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She started when Èomer came up silently behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Forgive me for startling you, my Lady. 'Twas not my intention. May I have a word with you?" he asked.
Braenna turned away from him. "Forgiveness you have, but I believe you have already had several words, my Lord," she replied bitterly.
"I intend to ask Faramir for your hand in marriage," Èomer announced.
"You cannot. I am not of the proper rank, Èomer King," she pointed out.
"Aragorn has made Faramir the Prince of Ithilien. As his sister, that makes you Princess of Ithilien. One of the proper ranks, my Lady," he retorted.
Braenna turned to him. He saw her begging for his words to be true in her eyes. "You lie," she said softly, skeptically.
"Never. Braenna, I would ask Faramir if we could be wed even if you lacked the proper rank. I would much rather marry for love than for rank. I know it is you I love above all else. No woman has made me feel that this war should end so I can make the vows of marriage. No woman has made me think of marriage as you have," he revealed, speaking softly.
Braenna rushed into his arms. They clung to each other, neither wanting to release the other. "I love you," Braenna whispered. Èomer stroked her hair gently.
"As I love you," he whispered back. She held her head back to face him. "Why do you cry?" He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs gently.
"I cry because just as it seems our love is undying, true, and has a future...you ride to the Black Gate...to a battle which is most likely suicide," she replied tearfully.
Èomer kissed her gently. "I promise you, I will return. And you will be the first I come to," he assured her gently.
Braenna nodded, putting on a brave face for him. She removed the ribbon that held her hair up in a bun. She tied it to his wrist, then looked him in the eye. "For luck," she said simply.
He brushed her hair back behind her ears. Now that he had finally seen it down, he was sure to keep it this way whenever she graced his presence. Her gesture had been precious to him. "The best token I have received from anyone," he whispered. Their lips met passionately. Èomer pulled away to catch his breath. He would have continued if a runner hadn't joined them in that moment.
Èomer and Braenna both looked at the boy, maybe all of nine years old. Èomer briefly wondered what his fate would be should they fail. Braenna smiled warmly.
"Beg your pardon, my Lord and Lady, but Mithrandir sent me in search of King Èomer. He says it is nearly time to ride out," the boy said.
"Thank you, Gaenry," Braenna said after a brief moment of silence. The boy ran off.
Èomer held her to him once more. "Do not die on this day, Èomer son of Èomund," she whispered pleadingly.
"I will come back for you, my love," he assured. He kissed her forehead gently before leaving her standing there, holding herself.
Faramir and Èowyn joined her as she watched the army ride out below them. Faramir wrapped a comforting arm around his sister's shoulders. She buried her face in his shoulder "He won't let you lose another man you love, Braenna. He'll be back for you," he assured, stroking her back gently.
"He is a strong warrior, my Lady. You shan't lose him this day," Èowyn added.
Braenna remained in a worrisome state until cries went up that the men had returned. She and Èowyn exchanged looks beyond Faramir. They both dashed off quickly, Faramir realizing after a moment that both women had gone.
Èomer had no sooner slid off of Firefoot's back when two female bodies slammed into him. He wrapped an arm around each of them, glad to see Èowyn well again and just glad to see Braenna. "I told you I would not fall. I always keep my word," he whispered in Braenna's ear.
Èowyn slipped away to return to Faramir's side, the two of them getting details of the battle from Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Merry, and Pippin. Èomer tightened his embrace of Braenna.
"I'm so glad to see you alive and well, my Lord," she said as she pulled back.
"My Lady, when will you ever return to calling me by name?" he asked teasingly. He smiled as he watched her blush.
"I assume when you start calling me by mine," she retorted after a moment. They shared a laugh, a truly happy one.
Braenna turned her head to see two more Hobbits, one of them unconscious. Faramir had told her of his meeting with these two. She gave Èomer a look. "A Healer's duty is never done," she sighed.
He gently squeezed her hand before letting her go about her duties. She carried the unconscious Hobbit to the Houses of Healing, several men with some minor and some serious injuries going with her, as did Aragorn. Èomer looked over at Èowyn, surprised to see her smiling and looking happy at Faramir's side. He walked over to the two of them.
"It would seem that I am not the only one with my sights on a fair woman these past few days," he said sternly. Faramir did not know how to react until Èomer gave him a gentle smile and Èowyn laughed.
Èomer grew worried when he did not see Braenna at the midday meal. Aragorn entered just as Èomer finished eating. "You look exasperated, my friend," Èomer said.
"A very strong-willed Healer just banished me from the Houses of Healing until I've had some rest and a proper meal," Aragorn stated.
Èomer and Faramir exchanged knowing looks. "I wonder who that could possibly be," Faramir said jokingly. He, Èomer, and Èowyn laughed.