A/N: Hey guys, I'd like to apologize because this chapter should have been published a while ago. However, each time I planned on doing so life got in between. Nevertheless, the chapter's finally here. I hope you will all enjoy reading it.

As usual Italic is flashbacks.

Minas Tirith

Looking to his side, Denethor bites his lips momentarily before remembering himself. He cannot show emotions like this in public. At his side, Faramir stumbles a bit and his hands tremble. His face is pale and sweaty. He is clearly not yet fit enough to be out of the houses. What was master Neston thinking? Why did he not interfere? He has no idea but hopes Faramir will get in sufficient trouble for this. Preferably by being on reinforced bedrest for a few days.

Stepping out of the houses, he narrows his eyes. Three full companies of Citadel guards stand in waiting next to their horses. What are these companies doing here? He had asked for two companies and not three. Thinking about it, he groans.

"My lord?"

"It is nothing, Faramir. Someone just caught onto something I planned to do and prepared accordingly. Without my permission, I have to add."

"Mhh, what did you plan to do? Does it concern the task you gave me?"

"It is nothing you need to worry about. It does indeed concern that task. Besides, you should focus on your recovery and allow Lord Húrin to assist you."

He turns his eyes back to the companies quickly. In front of them, two stablehands hold the reins of their horses. His horse is fully prepared for what is to come. The armor rests neatly on his horse's back. The blanket beneath it glitters in the sunlight. On its face, his horse has even more armor. Faramir's horse on the contrary is only tacked for riding. Only a saddle and blanket have been placed on the horse's back.

"I will do as you request. And I will look forward to learning what it concerns. My lord, how will these companies be incorporated within the host?"

"Let me worry about that."

"Of course, my lord."

He takes the reins in his hands before mounting his horse. Everyone else follows his example. Turning his horse around, he finds Faramir sitting a bit uncertain on his horse. Steering his horse towards him, he takes a hold of the reins.

"Are you sure you can accompany us to the gate? You are paler than before."

"I am fine, my lord. There is nothing you need to worry about."

He stares at Faramir who meets his gaze head-on. He narrows his eyes but Faramir's expression does not change. After some time, he turns his horse around. Faramir is convinced he can handle himself. He will allow him to do as he pleases. If Faramir is overextending himself, master Neston will have to handle it. He cannot be bothered with it any longer.

Moving his horse forward, he hears the company following him. One man rides up next to him. He glances at Faramir who is on his other side but does not seem to notice it. Silence falls between all of them as they ride down. He uses this time to consider previous Faramir's agreement. He is pleased Faramir agreed even though it took him some time to convince Faramir. A lot of his worries are taken from him by it. He should not have to concern himself with those matters when he has to also focus on the battle. By Faramir's agreement, he has arranged it.

At the same time, he realizes Faramir has to look into things he will not fully understand. Faramir misses vital information to do so. It is not an ideal situation but a conscious choice he made. No one should know these things until he feels ready to share them. He grimaces slightly hoping it will not result in problems for anyone.

Glancing at Faramir once more, he is met with furrowed eyebrows. A smile tugs on his lips. Faramir's concern for him still exists. It is good to see his recent behavior has not fully destroyed the bond which existed between them. A bond which was thin at times but one he nevertheless cherished. In the future, he will set out to strengthen it.

Reaching the first level, he is met with rubble on the side of the street. No stones lay there anymore which is a relief. The remaining gravel is not. An open space greets him where the gate once was. In its place, a wooden beam hangs over two doors made from patchwork wood. All in all, the current gates are hastily put together. Pulling on the reins, he turns towards Faramir.

"Here I will leave you, Captain Faramir. From this day forth until my return, you are the acting steward of Gondor. I have confidence you will look after Gondor's interest to the best of your abilities while I am away with the army giving us the final success we so need over Mordor."

Pelennor field

The wind beats on his face. He turns his eyes towards the banners and sees them flowing frantically in the wind. The horses pant loudly in the background. Still, the wind blowing makes it barely hearable. Looking around the yard, he is met with wide eyes. He frowns. What did they expect? Faramir to be going with the host? Do not make him laugh. Faramir is not in any condition to go anywhere. And besides, if they thought so, they should have looked at their attire; he is dressed for battle and Faramir is not. Turning back to Faramir, he nods.

"I bid you farewell, acting steward."

"I bid you farewell too, my lord. I have high hopes you will return with a well-earned victory. Open the gate!"

He bows his head and turns his horse towards the gate. Moving his horse towards the gate, he hears hoofbeats following him. Banners flap in the background. Rustling metal accompanies it resounding all around him. He moves slowly through the gate knowing what he will be met with once he is out of the city.

Crossing the gateway, snickering of horses reaches his ears. Accompanying it is the flapping of banners. He looks straight ahead at the army assembled in the distance. Over their head, multiple banners flow in the wind showing which lords have gathered. A few leaves roll over the field in between them. He calmly rides towards the frozen army. Why they are frozen he does not know. They should have expected him. What is going on here?

As he nears the army, banners, and standards are lowered. It allows him to look better at both the banners and the standards. He can finally differentiate those from Gondor and Rohan. At the distance he was at before, it was nearly impossible to completely differentiate between them. It is then, he tilts his head. They are missing one banner. Gil had one when he disembarked during the siege. Where is it?

Looking over the army, he searches out the men of the north. All he can see are the men of Gondor and Rohan. What were the men of the north dressed in? He keeps his face as emotionless as he can. Let them all think he is inspecting them. The men of the north were dressed similarly as the Rangers of Ithilien but in darker colors. So, where are they now? He cannot see those colors anywhere. Slowly moving along the army, he masks his search into an inspection.

There! In the distance, a few elves can be seen. He recognizes them by the different armor than the men are wearing. And wherever they are, the men of the north will not be far away. A horse moves forward. The sun reflects off the armor stinging in his eyes. The rider is illuminated in blinding light. He narrows his eyes and shields them with his hand.

"My lord Denethor, my men are ready to march."

"Thorongil, it is good to see you had no problems preparing. I am glad to see my gift has been well-received."

"It was a surprise to receive it. Thank you my lord for your thoughtfulness."

He smiles lightly and tips his head. He refuses to react to Gil's response to his name being used. There was something about it. It was almost like a wince but he cannot be sure. It was well-hidden behind a neutral face. Still, he has a chance to discover it by responding.

"It was a pleasure. Do you wish for me to address you by Aragorn and not Thorongil?"

"I would indeed prefer to be addressed by my real name."

"Then, my lord Aragorn, I would like for you to explain why your standard is not being shown."

"I did not wish to sow discord among your men, my lord Denethor."

"Nonsense, you will not sow discord. We all know what your standard means to Gondor. It was a relief for the men to see it. It brought all of us hope. I admit I miss seeing it."

Gil mentions with his hand and dismounts. He follows his lead. Dust flows in the distance accompanied by the sound of hoofbeats. Following the dust trial, he sees it is heading back to the Dúnedain camp. At least, the direction the trail is moving towards is where the camp is located. So the standard is being fetched. The only question remaining is by whom. Hopefully, not Halon. Shivers still run over his back if only he thinks about him. Turning his eyes back to Gil, he intends to finish another business right now. It might be even more important than the other business.

"My lord Aragorn, there is another matter I wish to discuss with you."

"And that is?"

Gil looks at him with furrowed eyebrows and a tilted head. He smiles calmly. It would do no good if he upsets Gil. At the same time, he can understand Gil's feelings but hoped their earlier meeting had removed them. No matter, he will have to work with the situation as it is.

"I would like to ask that when we speak, we do so cordially. We have more than enough to discuss in the future and this will make those discussions more pleasant. And also, we will be able to talk in comfort while we wait for your standard-bearer to return."

"I was not aware we were so close after the events prevailing my departure from Gondor."

"I am aware there is a barrier between us. I regret it grew due to our fight. You need to know I am not your enemy. I regret the accusations I made."

"I…"

A horse approaches quickly from the distance stopping Gil from finishing his sentence. Gil quickly turns his head in the direction the horse is coming from. He follows Gil's gaze and smiles. A rider and horse are hurrying towards here. The furled standard in his hands becoming more visible the nearer he gets. Within moments, the rider is close enough to see his face. He bites back a groan; it is Halon. Just what he needed. He has to fight to keep his grumbling contained. He dares a glance around but no one seems to have noticed his struggles.

Halon stops next to Gil sharing a look with him. Whatever is being said, remains a mystery. No explanation is given nor can he understand their shared looks. He clenches his fists seeing the closeness between the men. A closeness, he would have liked to have with Gil at this time. Their silent conversation lasts but a moment. He looks at the other Dúnedain. Those closest to them are smiling. He would not be surprised if a few of them would actually be laughing silently.

A swooshing sound reaches his ears. He turns his eyes back onto Halon. He smiles brightly. The standard of the king has been unfurled and is blowing in the wind. Glancing behind him, he locks eyes with his own standard-bearer. A frown greets him. He makes a small motion with his hand glaring at him. No one should get any sign of what the standard-bearer should do.

Turning back to Gil, he smiles calmly. Gil's eyes widen and his mouth falls open slightly. He now knows his standard-bearer followed his orders and has lowered his standard. He bows his head to make his point even clearer; Gil is the rightful king of Gondor. It will be obvious to everyone who has been watching this exchange.

The army behind him is speechless. The wind blowing in his ears louder than any sounds coming from the army. He knows why; no one will have expected him to do something like this. Some lords, he imagines, would have expected problems from Gil's earlier declaration. The lords follow his example by lowering their standards.

With this knowledge in mind, whispering reaches his ears which he focuses on. Most of it is simple gossiping. He tins his lips. Gossiping does not require his attention at all so he shuts it out. He turns his eyes to Gil who has mounted his horse once more. He moves forward mentioning for Gil to move to the front. After a moment, Gil overtakes him with Halon not far behind him. Moving to Gil's right, he takes up his position. Looking to his left he finds Imrahil has moved to Gil's left side.

Turning back to Gil, he finds one company of Citadel guards have moved into a position to guard him. He smiles for he did not have to order them. They understood his intention. At the same time, a few Rohirrim have moved forward covering Éomer who is riding nearly next to Gil. Glancing at Imrahil, he finds a company of swan knights have done the same for him. Just as the other company of guards has done for him. He sees this when turning back to determine if they are ready to march.

Where are the Dúnedain? He can only see Halon but no other. Turning to the army, he finds they have moved in front of the Gondorians together with the elves, halflings, and the dwarf. He locks eyes with one who glares dagger at him. He frowns before his eyes widen ever so slightly. They must have intended to do the same thing the company has done. Now, they are pushed back. Locking eyes with Gil, he nods. Gil moves his horse forward leaving Minas Tirith.

Aragorn POV

Aragorn stares ahead ignoring the company and men who ride behind him. He bites back a sigh from time to time. He does not appreciate this because it makes too much of a statement. It could result in trouble he does not want. Sharing a look with Halon, he finds his feelings are returned. With that knowledge, Thor's actions rise to the front of his mind once more. Not that they have left his mind for long.

Denethor looks at his standard with a bright smile. He frowns. What is he so happy about? And why did he ask for his standard to be brought forward? He would have thought Thor would want to discuss his claim after returning from Morannen. But by having it brought forward eliminates this possibility completely.

He narrows his eyes focusing on Thor. Thor turns around toward his standard-bearer. The angle hiding his emotions. What would he give to get a look at Gil's emotions? The standard-bearer's reaction, though, is not hidden; he frowns in response to whatever he sees on Thor's face. They stare at each other.

After a long moment, the standard-bearer sighs glares at Thor. Thor's shoulders twitch in response. The standard-bearer lowers the standard. His eyes widen. Why did he do this? He must know what this means. The gasping lords among the army tell him they know it also.

Looking around, he finds Dan and Ro smiling brightly. His eyes narrow. Are they laughing at him? He sighs deeply; they are. He glares at them. Whatever they find funny about this he does not share their sentiment. Legolas and Gimli are looking thoughtful while Pippin is frowning. He must not understand what has happened just now. Standards lowering has him turning back to the army. His eyes widen once more. The lords followed Thor's example. But why? For what reason?

He still cannot believe why Thor has done this. It makes no sense. The whole events were a maelstrom of emotions for him. This and everything else which happened since their first meeting confuses him. Thor does not act like he expected him to. He does not act according to the state of their relationship. Thor has never been a very forgiving person. Why should he be forgiving towards him now?

On another note, he knows what Thor's actions mean. He is recognized as the rightful king of Gondor. Or at least someone of a higher position than Thor. As only a king outranks a ruling steward here he is recognized as such. The present lords also understood this.

The army looks upon them speechlessly. A few leaves fly over the field. The wind batters against his ears overshadowing every other sound at this moment. Some lords look with their mouths fallen open. Others have furrowed their eyebrows or are biting their lips. Of those, a few are throwing daggers at him.

He does not dare show his unease. Goosebumps litter his skin making it difficult for him to not move around. He can understand their emotions to a certain degree. He is also confused and shocked. As for those who are angry, he thinks they will not accept a king. They will want things to remain as they are right now. Or could they be angry he has not made his claim earlier? He slaps himself mentally. This is impossible.

He focuses once more on the lords and tilts his head. Prince Imrahil looks at him with steel eyes but still bows his head. The young men behind him do the same. Who are they? They look very similar to him. Are they his sons? He has heard a bit from them but has never seen them.

Forcefully pulling his eyes off them, he looks at the other lords. A few bow their heads but most stare at him defiantly. It is clear Thor's actions have thoroughly annoyed them. None appear too happy about it.

He sighs and glances around. Thor looks at him questionably. He smiles calmly even though he does not feel like it. It is almost as if he is a rope pulled too tight while being pulled from both sides. Thor is pulling him in his direction while the lords are pulling in the other. He shakes his head. If this continues conflict will be created within Gondor. It is the last thing he wants to be responsible for.

Or what Thor wants, considering his recent behavior. It is almost as if Thor wants him to take the throne. Thor's lack of intent to create conflict makes no sense when considering his submissive act understandable. He must know it will create conflict among the lords. There will be those who are willing to accept him as king and those who will outright refuse to do so.

One thing he knows for certain, he has to prove himself as a leader to the lords. The coming battle will be the start of it. And afterward, he will have to ensure he finds ways to keep proving himself. But while he does so, he has to keep an eye on things. His actions will not create conflicts. Nor will conflict be created on his watch.

First level, Minas Tirith, Faramir POV

Watching the banners grow steadily smaller in the distance, Faramir bites his lips. Something does not feel right to him in regards to his father. And it is not father leaving with the host. No, it is father's recent strange behavior. Father has been soo calm and collected as of late; it is surreal and unbelievable. What is going on with him? He was clearly worried but also annoyed at something.

More importantly, father has been hiding something. But what, he cannot be sure about. A few examples of hiding things come to his mind. The first being father's refusal to explain who the healer was they were talking about. And the second being what he really should make the preparations for. No matter the examples, he cannot figure out what is being hidden from him. Are these examples even related?

He scratches the back of his neck. All of it gives him the impression the stress of recent years has not impacted his father. Something which does not add up because he can clearly remember father has, in fact, been impacted by it. And even if father had gotten over his grief for Boromir's death, the change should not be so quick or large. It should have taken more time. A lot more time.

He clenches his fists tight. He cannot figure out what is going on with his father. Nothing makes sense. He smiles ruefully. Does nothing make sense? Well, the preparations he has been asked to make make a tiny bit of sense. Everything else seems to have no reason. No reason for being made or planned. What has father been thinking?

He looks over the banners and standards focusing on the standard of Elendil. He smiles calmly. This standard changed everything when it was unfurled. His struggle to keep his mouth from falling open remains clear in his mind. The struggle he lost was his eyes widening. He never expected to see this standard in the presence of his father. Not ever. He knows it was brought forth at his father's request. It was not present when father entered the field. And once it was unfurled, father had his standard lowered. By doing this, he acknowledged the user of this standard as the rightful king of Gondor.

He looks up at the cloud-covered sky. Sunlight filters through the cracks in the clouds. Father's actions regarding the king make no sense. In fact, they make even less sense than father's other actions. It would only make a tiny bit of sense would father be waiting for the king's return. A wry smile pulls on his face. He knows his father too well. Father would never wait for the king's return. He would never allow a king to ascend the throne so long as he is alive without fighting said king.

All father's acceptance does is explain some aspects of the preparations he has to make. As for himself, he will make the preparations as if they are waiting for the king to ascend the throne. Even if father's actions do not make sense. Even if he risks a harsh berating. He will make his father proud. And in time, he will be able to question his father more about his recent actions regarding the king.

Seeing the first standards and banners disappear in the distance, he turns his horse around. The company of guards follows him quietly. The gate slams shut behind him with a wooden beam being slammed onto it. Men move around behind him as well as on his sides. It is good to see they have gone back to their work.

As for returning to his work, he deems his ride back to the houses offers the best time to inspect the damages. All in all, he can see the first level has been nearly destroyed. Stones lie in heaps. A small amount of grind remains on the roads. It is impossible to see where the other buildings were before if one has not been in the city before. A few walls remain standing here and there. Just like one or two small buildings. It is questionable how long they will remain standing.

A shadow passes over him for a moment. Moments later, light blinds him. He narrows his eyes giving them time to adjust to the bright light. Opening his eyes again, he sees the second level laid out in front of him. It is a similar picture to the first level but also not exactly. The major difference is the buildings are still recognizable. The roofs, though, are mostly destroyed as well as a few walls.

Both levels will have to be repaired. Father will have known that. As well as knowing it will be impossible to repair everything in a short amount of time. Depending on the available resources, it might take anything from six months to a few years to conduct all the repairs. So what can he actually do besides make father proud?

He takes a deep breath already knowing the answer. To make father proud he will have to make preparations to repair the city. Based on his experience, this is the most important thing for him to focus on now. Without those repairs, Minas Tirith will be left vulnerable. This he has to avoid at all costs. If at all possible, he should start with executing the preparations for the repairs he made.

His eyes widen. How could he be so stupid? He just forgot something equally as important. He also needs to work out a suitable defensive plan for the city. Preferably with the captains. As such, he needs to plan to gather the captains soon. Getting answers for his questions will have to wait. And who knows, maybe later he will get the answers either way. All of this he has to do while also making preparations for a celebration.