Again, I am sorry for the delay.

Thanks for staying with this story and for reading.

I try to update more regularly...

Enjoy.

Stand strong

The gate to Mordor now laid in front them. It was black and the land bleak. For the first time Éomer had to endure this view. He did not like what he saw. It would be the last time he swore to himself. Neither his men nor the ones of Gondor said a word. The marshal exchanged a view with Boromir. His friend shared his dislike about the door they were about to open. Aragorn rode forward and the core of them followed. That was him and Merry, the Captain General of Gondor and Pippin, Legolas and Gimli and the white wizard. He already felt the cold and evil presence of the enemy. The gate opened and one very ugly... creature rode out. The horse does look like one of his people. Poor beast. Éomer laid his right hand on his sword. Aragorn did not speak. Boromir like him, had trouble holding back. "My lord, delivers a message to you. The one you wish to protect should no longer be of your concern," they were informed and Sauron's mouth presented Frodo's mail shirt. His horse was about to back away, blinded by it obviously but the marshal hindered his steed.

"No," Merry mumbled behind him.

"This can't be...," added Pippin.

"That is a lie. We don't believe you. Our all friend is strong and smart," voiced Boromir. The gate keeper laughed viciously and was beheaded by Aragorn. Then the Dúnedain rode back and they turned their horses. "I have expected something, my king but... not this," mumbled the Gondorian. Elessar nodded and returned a faint smile. Next, the man drew Andruil and began to speak to them all:

Hold your ground! Hold your ground!
Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers,
I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me.
A day may come when the courage of men fails,
when we forsake our friends
and break all bonds of fellowship,
but it is not this day.

Aragorn lifted the renewed blade and continued:

An hour of wolves and shattered shields,
when the age of men comes crashing down,
but it is not this day!
This day we fight!
By all that you hold dear on this good Earth,
I bid you stand, Men of the West!

Oh, Éomer would follow him. Boromir and Legolas exchanged views, Gimli lifted his axe and he, present king of Rohan drew his sword. Their wizard's expression was grim and sad, as was Aragorn's when he felt unobserved. He felt the same but had put on a strong facade since they rode out. "For Frodo," the Dúnedain added and the battle began.

Faramir has left Éowyn and searched for his father. Denethor appeared... more ill than before and did not look good at all. So, the young ranger decided to search for the Steward after he ensured the shieldmaiden's well-being. The man was glad that he could comfort her. One day, Éowyn would be able to see the light again. One day, the darkness will be gone. He arrived at the gardens of his mother. He was not the only visitor. The Steward sat there but did not see him. Faramir paused at the gate to regard his father. The younger one smiled faintly. Denethor acted differently when he had met him. Faramir was not used to kindness expressed towards him from this man. Suddenly his father looked up and saw him. The older man's gaze changed when their eyes met. They did not look kindly at him. His smile faded and he lowered his head. Then he opened the gate and entered. "Father," the young ranger greeted him. Denethor had not stopped looking at him.

"This man... I saw him before. I know him," replied the Steward.

The younger one nodded," Yes, Aragorn, my friend, has been here..."

He began but was interrupted by Denethor, "He was known by the name of Thorongil and served as soldier of Gondor." His father's gaze was now focused on the ground and his hands clenched to fists. Faramir's eyes found his own.

"I do know that," he answered.

"Tell me then, captain, the reason of favouring this man over your Steward to whom you swore allegiance," the older man demanded while grabbing his hands. The young ranger blinked then opposed his father with all the strength he could muster.

"The reason I favour him is simple my lord. He is not only a friend, a companion and brother. He is heir of the crown of Gondor. He was and will be my king. Our all king," he declared and squeezed the hand of his father. "My lord, I swore an oath to fall or stand with my land. To protect our city and people. To protect the ones, I love. I hold on to this promise. You have guided our land well. Now, however is...," Denethor backed away, viewed him with death glares and interrupted him again.

"I will not pass the command to a man who is not worthy of being king of all Gondor," his father stated. "Never," the older man added. "Valar may brought my sons back to me but I do not recognize them," the Steward continued. Faramir viewed him this whole time. It was then that Denethor answered it. "I could call this one son who is loyal to me to the very end. I do not see anyone like that. I do not wish to lay a glimpse on you again. Captain, you are dismissed of service as your second in command is. Leave the walls of this city and do not come back. Take your commander with you. A man tainted by your ideals is no longer welcome here," his father imposed and left, refusing to turn around again. This time it was different. Last time the man called him son. Now, he was banned. Faramir did not shed a tear. Could not. The younger one, always treated less, had no more left. Again, he missed his brother dearly. Then the younger one stood up and made for his chamber to pack his things. He wished it would be otherwise. He wished he would not be forced to leave Éowyn alone. However, Denethor's orders were very clear. He had to go.

Calemireth still couldn't take her eyes off the letter. It was one written by her mother. It told the woman that her father had died and demanded her return. She carefully smoothed it and pressed it to her heart. The lady found a quiet place near the gate. Most soldiers were needed in battle and therefore their posts were empty. Calemireth silently sobbed. Her father would have wanted his daughter to be strong. She has failed him. Again. If only Boromir would be here with her. Unfortunately, he wasn't and even if, she could not tell if he had comforted her. Then someone laid a hand on her left shoulder and Calemireth turned around. It was the woman she had seen on battlefield. "Éowyn," the other lady introduced herself.

"Calemireth," she answered. "I would not have thought to see you here at the gate," the brown-haired woman added.

"I said farewell to Faramir," Éowyn replied, her voice faltering while she said it. The lady of Dol Amroth wondered herself about this news.

"Why...," she began but the fair-haired woman had regained her composure and explained," He did not tell me. Said it would be for the best. However, the Steward ordered his leave." Calemireth regarded the shieldmaiden.

"I suppose that we both could need distraction. Would you accept my request for a swordplay?" she countered.

Éowyn smiled faintly," I accept but before I would like to know the reason for your disconsolateness." The lady of Dol Amroth looked away.

"My father died in battle and only now I am informed. I have left my home to follow Boromir into battle. I suppose you are one of the few of those who understand. I had to fight for our country and the people," she paused then smiled at the thought of this one man. "As well, there is one who gained my liking and I had to rescue him. Twice," Calemireth added.

"My uncle died on the Pelennor as well. And indeed, I perfectly relate. It was me who... slayed the witchking," Éowyn responded. "No one really listened to me. I ever wanted to be with the soldiers," the shieldmaiden continued. The brown-haired woman viewed her again.

"We are very similar then," Calemireth concluded. The fair-haired woman nodded in agreement. "You have earned Faramir's liking," the lady of Dol Amroth stated causing Éowyn to smile again.

"Have you earned to one of Boromir?" the shieldmaiden then asked.

"If I only knew that. I am very bad at hiding it. Faramir knows as well," Calemireth replied.

"You are good at it. However, there are few men who come into question. It was a good guess of mine," Éowyn reassured her. Calemireth stored the letter in one of her pockets and laid a hand on the hilt of her sword. The shieldmaiden understood and both started to climb levels to the training grounds.

Frodo and Sam had come so far and still none of them could rest. Not yet. Not when the final act, to destroy the ring once and for all, laid in front them. Sam had left his knapsack and therefore nearly all their belongings behind. Only the letter and last pieces of lembas, he now carried in his pockets. His friend had lost breath halfway up Mount Doom, so he decided to carry him. Sam could not do that with the ring, Frodo would have refused. However, his friend, he could. They had given up everything, not so the hope. Sam would never lose it. And friendship. Nothing could lessen the power of true friendship. With every step the hobbit took, he became more breathless, more exhausted but also brought them closer to their goal. Frodo would reach Mount Doom. His friend would soon be relieved of his burden. Very soon. Sam would ensure that. Regardless of the dark that surrounded him. The hobbit carried light in his very heart.

I hope you liked it.

The speech of Aragorn is the one out of the movie (should be)

Read you.