Dawn of a New Day

The corridors and stairs from the main hall to the base cavernous paths that would lead into the caves was straightforward. The main hall was the last stronghold of the fortress, the last line of defense. While the caves could be reached from paths carved into the mountains from below, the paths would be sealed behind the women and children. There had to be another way that could take a soldier or guard to the caves to give the all-clear once the enemy was dealt with. It was the only path left, the only one that the women could trust good news came from. For when the battle was done, someone would come from above, down that path, from the hall where all were safe, to give word.

It was with a heavy heart that Menna led Boromir down those paths towards the caves, for it would not be a joyful news given.

That they were racing down halls and jumping down steps spoke of the danger behind and the time they did not have. With each second that passed, all she could think was how the Uruks would likely take the same path down if they made it past those in the halls above. They would storm down the stairs, their footfalls shaking the walls, echoing down to the women. They would surge into the caves and slaughter everyone unless they got to the refugees first.

But even then, she knew, it would be a near thing to get all of them further into the cavernous passages, deeper into the mountain before the enemy arrived.

While it would be near, nay likely impossible, she was not going to stand by and wait or allow it to happen without doing all she could to help.

"There!" Boromir shouted, pulling Menna from her darkening thoughts as they came upon a wider chamber with a set of doors.

"Boromir, wait!" Menna called as the man ran towards it, half throwing his shoulder into the wood, expecting it to push open and allow them passage into the caves. But the doors held firm, refusing to budge, "It is a fortress," she reminded him, "The best defense is to barricade in."

Boromir rubbed his arm, understanding that there was likely a beam across the door, but on the other side. He shook his head and strode towards the doors, banging on them, wincing when startled screams sounded on the other side of the wood.

"Make into the mountains!" his voice boomed out, calling through to the women inside, "Go! Now!"

"Eowyn!" Menna added, moving so close to the doors her lips nearly brushed the wood, "Lead your people!"

Boromir looked over at her for her words, giving her a nod of approval for the added command. Eowyn, he was sure, would understand what that meant, how dire the situation was, that she could not rush out there with the Shieldmaidens to join the fight, but that they needed to protect who was left. Theoden King was in danger, it did not appear that they would survive, Eowyn needed to know these were her people to lead now.

He let out two more calls through the door, repeating the order, needing to make sure they had been heard, before he turned to Menna when she spoke to him, knives gripped in her hands, "Shall we make our stand here?"

"No," he shook her head, "Closer to the hall," he countered, "The halls are narrow, it will force them to thin down to face us. And we can have more room to retreat further and make more stands than to wait here for them to reach the doors."

She nodded, the logic was sound and the tactic well thought out. The further away from the doors they could get, the more stands they could make, the more time they would give the women and children to get further into the caves. THEY had come down the halls and stairs, they were more familiar with their placements and turns than the Uruks would be. If they were overwhelmed, they could retreat, make another stand and another stand, until they fell or the Uruks were defeated.

"Aye," she agreed, turning to rush forward back the way they came, Boromir close behind, his sword drawn, a hand gripping her knives tightly as they went.

They could only hope they made it in time.

~8~

Aragorn turned away from the window he was looking out of, from the horde of Uruk-hai marching towards them still. He glanced at the doors that would lead outward, to the fierce and unceasing banging of the battering rams. It would be mere moments before the Uruks broke though the doors. Even with the darkness of the night fading into the lightening that came with the approach of dawn, even with the creatures faring better in the dark, they would be slaughtered where they stood if they did not do something.

They needed to make one final stand and he knew he would not merely wait there for his fate to come, he would not lay down and die, he would pick up his sword and bring that final fight to his enemies.

"Ride out with me," he spun sharply to face the weary Theoden King, "Ride out and meet them."

Theoden looked up at him with a deep frown upon his face, before glancing at his men beside him, still standing, the fearsome and true Horse Lords of Rohan. They would not be cowed by the odds, not when there was still life within them, not when there was still much to defend. His thoughts drifted to the caves, to Eowyn, the last of his family, to her courage and spirit, he would die to keep her safe and if that was his fate, so be it. But he would be damned if he did not go down without a sword in his hand, without being on a horse and showing these foul beings the true might of Rohan.

"For death and glory," Theoden nodded, looking now to Aragorn, a new determination in his voice.

"For Rohan," Aragorn added, "For your people."

For Menna, he did not dare add for that was not upon Theoden to do. Menna and Boromir were behind that door, working to get the women and children safe, and if he knew them, they would put themselves between the doors to this hall and the caves, one last stand against the Uruks, to protect the lives behind them. If this attack of theirs did anything, he hoped it would be to cut down more of the Uruk numbers, to give Menna and Boromir a better chance.

"The sun is rising," Gimli remarked, looking out the window where a faint stream of light was beginning to shine through the darkness.

It was then that Aragorn recalled Gandalf's last orders, to look for his coming at the first light on the fifth day, to look east at dawn. THIS was the fifth day, and dawn was steadily approaching.

For the first time since this battle began, Aragorn felt hope return to him.

Gandalf would not break his word. Even if he returned without the riders he had gone out to seek, he would still return and a wizard's assistance would be invaluable against such dark magic as these Uruks. They just needed to hold strong a little longer.

Theoden, not knowing these final words from Gandalf, had a fire lit within his soul for battle no matter the odds, "Yes!" he cried out, turning to his men, "Yes! The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep one last time!"

"Yes!" Gimli cheered, "I shall make for the horn," he told them, "We Dwarves have stronger lungs than any!"

One of the guards nodded when Theoden indicated to him to guide their ally to the horn, to sound it once more in a call for the final attack, and led Gimli out of the room. A handful of other soldiers rushed out after them, returning with what few horses had managed to get into the fortress during the attack, offering them to their king.

"Let this be the hour when we draw swords together!" Theoden cried out, gesturing Aragorn and Legolas each take a horse as he did, "Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath! Now for ruin! And a red dawn!" he quickly mounted his horse with a skill and ease that could only come from a lifetime of utilization, putting his helmet on and drawing his sword.

They had only but a few more moments to wait before the echo of the horn sounded above them.

"FORTH EORLINGAS!" Theoden gave the command, charging his horse forward, the others close behind. Guards near the main doors threw them open at the approach, allowing their king safe passage out, following after the horses as they sailed past.

Theoden led the attack, Aragorn and Legolas behind him, with more of his loyal soldiers behind them, their horses crashing into the ill-prepared Uruk-hai, their swords slashing at their unsuspecting enemy. They continued on, storming down the causeway, knocking what Uruk-hai that tried to block them off the sides as they went. They did not stop even as they reached the base of the way, urging their horses on, slashing and hacking and striking at any Uruk they could reach.

Aragorn looked up, to the east, as the light of the sun was felt on his skin, to see, at the top of a steep hill, a white rider approach, somehow shining brighter than the rising sun behind him.

"Gandalf!" Aragorn cried out.

Despite the distance, despite the battle raging around them, the words spoken by the wizard were heard by all, "Théoden King stands alone."

As were the words of a single Rider of Rohan that came up behind him, "Not alone," with the raising of but one hand and a call of, "Rohirrim!" a mass of riders joined him, far more than the remnants of the Fellowship had seen when first encountering them.

"Éomer!" Theoden gasped from beside Aragorn, staring up at his sister-son in grief and awe and guilt and relief.

It spoke volumes to Theoden that the man had come, even more that he had rallied all the Riders spread out through the kingdom. Whatsmore, it was his next cry that proved the bond between family, the loyalty, for Eomer did not even hesitate to give the command, "To the king!"

The Rohirrim and Gandalf now launched their own attack, charging down the slope. Their battlecries, their sheer numbers, were enough to turn the Uruk-hai away from the king and the few other fighters on horseback behind them and face the mounting threat, their spears bared and ready. But the Uruks were at a disadvantage for they were now forced to look directly towards the blaring sun, nearly blinding their nocturnal eyes. Horses crashed into the creatures, trampling over them, swords swinging, as the Rohirrim attacked with a vengeance, determined to avenge their fallen kin and protect those still living.

With the additional army come to their aid, the tide of the battle quickly turned, the Uruks outnumbered and overpowered quickly fled towards the forests in a retreat, not knowing that the true danger lurked among the trees.

"Victory!" Theoden cried out, his sword held high in the air, "We have victory!"

~8~

Menna and Boromir slowly crept down the last path towards the main doors to the hall, cautiously listening for any sign of battle to come. When there was nothing but silence, concern wormed its way into their minds for what other reason could there be for such quiet but that those fighting were not alive to fight any longer? They paused just before the doors to the main hall, looking at each other for but a moment. With the subtlest of nods, with a tightening of their grips on their weapons, they turned and threw the doors open, ready to attack…

But there was no one there.

The hall was empty, not a soldier in sight, but even more so not an Uruk about either.

Still unwilling to lower their weapons, they slowly made their way further into the room, on guard should this be a trap.

It was not until a roaring sound beyond the walls rose up that they even looked at the windows.

Menna breathed out, her arms lowering as she hurried over, staring out at what appeared to be a wall of horses striding down the steep slope just outside the walls of the fortress. There was a white speck leading the downward attack, which could be none other than their own white wizard.

"Gandalf!" Boromir gaped, spotting the same.

"He has found them," Menna murmured, watching in awe, unable to get herself to move to help, as the horses nearly leapt over the Uruks, crushing them as they slammed into the wall of their enemies. she felt hope flood her, for astride a horse and with a sword in hand, a horse lord of Rohan could not be beaten.

And these were not men who had spent the entirety of the night fighting for their lives, these were not horses kept back and off the walls for the disadvantage it would make. These were fresh men, rested horses, fighting in daylight, with a wizard at their point, and the sun at their back. It had come time for the Uruks to be the ones slaughtered now.

Menna could not help the smile that grew across her face as she observed the attack from above.

All the soldiers, so weary from the night, seemed to find a renewed strength and launched themselves at the Uruks from behind, trapping them between two enemies until the only direction to run was to the side, towards the forests.

"They are escaping!" Boromir cried, alarmed at the sight, for it would only allow the army to regroup, replan, and gather reinforcements.

Menna's smile faded with that realization, especially when none of the Rohirrim went after the creatures…only for her eyes to widen as she realized why.

"The trees!" she pointed, they were moving!

It was not the force of the Uruk deserters rushing through that shook the trees. Those of Rohan's Forests were not so easily swayed. No, the trees themselves were moving, and the sounds of thousand of Uruks screaming could mean only one thing: their enemy had well and truly been defeated.

"Huorns," Menna breathed, shaking her head in awe, recalling tales scattered through Middle Earth of the creatures, half-tree, half-alive, most stationary and sleepy, yet when woken could attack with a vengeance, "There were always legends…but I never thought them true."

The words Legolas spoke when they had wandered through those very woods came back to her. The trees were old and speaking. She had thought it merely the eerie quality of the forest, but perhaps his Elf ears had heard voices they could not. Whatever the case, she was grateful for it now, the trees, their allies, had truly won them the victory she could hear Theoden King crying out below.

Boromir was the first to shake himself out of the relieved stupor that came with victory, with surviving the battle, and spoke, "The women," he recalled, "We must tell them it is safe now."

Menna nodded, they had put an awful fright into them, she was sure, it was only fair that they reassure them now that the fight was over and they were safe.

~8~

It was a bittersweet moment, when the cave doors were open and the women told of the victory, the cheers that went up when, only a heartbeat later, the men appeared, trickling in and looking for their families. To win the battle, but know not every father or brother or son would return. Menna watched from the main doors as the families that could reunite did, as the women who had lost more than others came together in their grief.

She could see Boromir among the refugees-turned-soldiers, speaking with them and praising their bravery, wanting to give them something more than the fate that had pushed a blade into their hands. They had not chosen the life of a soldier or guard or warrior, they were simple people who just wanted to go back to their homes and tend their fields.

She glanced back, hearing a loud bellowing, to see Gimli stalking in front of Aragorn and Legolas as they too made their way to the caves. The Dwarf was grumbling how he had missed the battle due to 'all those damned stairs' he had had to navigate down after blowing the horn of battle. He had, it seemed, come out just as the Uruks were already fleeing and was not pleased the Elf had more chance to up his count.

She shook her head, patting the Dwarf on the shoulder as he passed by, giving Legolas a respectful nod, unsure if touch would be welcome. The returning nod answered her question as Legolas stepped past her into the hold as well. Aragorn, however, came to stop beside her, taking in the sight as she was, before his gaze landed on her, looking over her, his eyes tracking every injury and wound she sustained, much as she was doing to him.

Neither of them had come out unscathed, both were bruised and battered, sore and cold, with cuts and strains. But both were alive.

And it was in that moment of sweeping relief Menna allowed herself this one weakness, stepping closer to him and embracing him tightly, her arms around his shoulders as his wound around her waist, burying her face in his neck as tears prickled her eyes but she would not let them fall this time. She was so grateful they were both standing. She had, for a brief moment, dared to hope they might all survive the night, what remained of the Fellowship, before brutally crushing it as the fancy of a girl. She knew the realities of the world and she knew not all of them may live still.

Yet they did and it was more than she could have asked for.

"I am glad you are here," Aragorn's voice rumbled in her ear.

She heard more in his voice than she was sure he meant to reveal, and stepped back from his tight hold, giving him a wry smile, "I am not one so easy to kill."

He chuckled at that, a soft laugh as he shook his head, but gazed upon her still.

Neither noticed Eowyn watching, the woman having rushed forward to hug him in her joy to see him returned, only for him to turn his attention to another, before she did the same and moved to her uncle's side, to her brother, even more joyful they had come back to her whole and hale.

Aragorn looked out at the people still huddled in the cave, to where Legolas and Gimli had moved to Boromir, clasping arms and exchanging glad tidings. Though he was reluctant to part from her side, his relief so great at seeing her alive, he gave her a nod and moved to greet Boromir as well.

Menna smiled softly as she watched him go, looking over to Eowyn as she seemed to be prying the events of the battle from her uncle while her brother looked on with a fond amusement.

A sniffling reached her through the din of the reunions and mourning, and she looked to the side to see a small girl-child, clutching a cloth doll in her hands, curled up against the wall, crying into her knees. Menna glanced around but saw no one tending to the child and so she moved over to her, crouching down before her.

"I am so sorry for your loss," she told the girl, for there was but one reason to be crying tears of sadness now.

"Papa is gone," the girl looked up at her, her face red and splotchy from her tears.

"And your mama?"

"With my brother," the girl turned her head to where, a few feet away, a mother was sobbing into the arms of her son as he held her, the restored prince of Rohan approaching them, speaking quiet words to the still-terrified boy.

Menna understood, the girl's brother was safe but her father lost, and as happy as the girl was for the former, the latter was still painful, "A wise man once told me, no one is ever truly gone," she told the girl, reaching out to run a hand down her matted hair in comfort, "They become one with the stars that watch over us in the night."

"Truly?"

Menna nodded at the girl's hopeful look, "I would bet anything that there will be many more stars shining this night than any other. It will be up to you to find your father among their light."

She gave the girl one more gentle smile, before she stood. Thinking of all that had been lost reminded her of the things she needed to find. She had to reclaim as many of her knives as she could, knowing a vague area the Uruks had fallen who attacked her…and she needed her pack. She did not feel right without its weight on her back or in her arms, felt lost without it within sight, and so she quietly left the hall.

The trek to the armory was short and silent, everyone had gone to the caves and only a handful of riders were outside the walls to keep watch. It truly showed the drive of the Uruks that they did not raid the armory but went straight for their enemies, the room was largely untouched.

The relief she felt to see the hiding spot of her pack untouched nearly rivaled what she felt when she beheld Aragorn and the others approaching the caves. She let herself sink to the floor, the pack clutched tightly to her chest, taking a deep breath of the scent of its cloth, nearly burying her nose in the top of the pack. She would have to venture out and search for what knives she could find soon, before the Uruks began to be moved as the men of Rohan searched for their dead to lay them to rest. But that could wait a moment longer.

She leaned back only slightly, enough to press a hand to her face, along her hairline, her eyes scrunched closed, her jaw tensed. She was alone, and so she could allow this moment.

She inhaled sharply, her entire face scrunching now that the battle was over and the energy she felt during the fight had drained from her. Now she felt...she didn't know. Her stomach was twisting, her head pounding, her throat tight, her mind spinning. She could feel her body shaking now, her other hand near white as it gripped her pack to her. The hand by her hairline slid down her face to press against her mouth, helping to mute the anguished groan that threatened to escape.

She had not known it would be like this, when she argued so strongly to fight in this battle. She knew it would be horrendous, terrifying, that her life could end at any moment. But this was so far away from a skirmish in the woods in daylight where only the Fellowship was in danger, from the ambush in the plains where the soldiers stood against the wargs and their riders. This had been the beginnings of war, with men and children involved who had no skill to fight. She had seen Uruk after Uruk come, with no end in sight. She had seen Elves, immortal and for so long thought invincible, fall to their deaths from the walls of Helm's Deep. She had seen old men, children, cut down before her eyes and cast aside as though manure in the fields. In the heat of battle she could ignore it, look away, knowing she could not rush to help the fallen, knowing any distraction could mean her end too. There was no time to give thought to it...

But now?

Every time she closed her eyes she saw it. She saw it all.

So many had perished, so many humans, allies. They did not deserve that fate, they deserved to live on, to see their sons bear children, to grow and have children of their own.

Why was SHE still there?

Why had she survived when so many others had not?

It was not fair.

Of all the lives that had fought during the night, hers was worth the least...and she still had hers.

She took a shuddering breath, her hand curling into a fist against her mouth, trying her best to push the thoughts away. Whatever the reason she lived, there was more to do. There were still injured to assist, still dead to reclaim, still her knives to hunt for, still so much more to do. She couldn't afford this weakness. She had had her moment, she had to force it back down, put on her mask and pluck up every ounce of bravery she could muster to go on. The others would come search for her soon if she took too long. She did not want to have to explain to them her state if they found her now.

She wiped her hand down her face, taking special care to rub the back of her hand under her eyes, taking as many deep breaths as she could till she felt calm enough. She would go in search of her knives first, give herself more time to collect herself. The others would not think it odd, not when they knew how much she relied on her blades, how little she had to her name.

"You will tell me where you obtained that."

Menna nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of a voice behind her, scrambling to her feet, her pack clutched to her as though a shield...until she saw who had followed her, "You startled me."

"Apologies," Eomer spoke, though there was a distinct lack of regret in his voice that belied he felt something else was more important, "Tell me where you obtained that," he repeated, his expression carved of stone as he looked upon her, the words he heard her speaking in the caves disturbed him enough to urge that he follow her instead of see to his people.

"Obtained what?" Menna asked, clearing her throat for the hoarse quality of it, slinging her pack onto her back in a fluid motion, trying her best not to wonder how long he had been behind her before he spoke, what he might have seen.

"Your pendant."

She gave him an odd look, "And why should I tell you that?" she demanded, "Given how nicely you inquired."

Eomer crossed his arms, "If you do not tell me, I will have you taken off as the thief you are."

"What makes you think I'm a thief?" she countered, before sighing, "As I told your sister, it is a mere trinket. I bartered it from a craftsman when last I passed through your lands."

"You lie," he took a step towards her, his expression twisting, "I was the craftsman who made that token, and I know it did not end up in the hands of my people to be given away."

Menna's jaw clenched and she looked away, caught. Eomer's hand snapped out to grip her chin, turning it to face him, but she moved to slap his hand away, "I bartered it," she insisted, hoping he could not hear the lie on her tongue.

"From whom?"

"Would you not know?" she countered, knowing this was something impossible to lie about give all he had said, "If this is a token, then it was intended as a gift for another. And if you know for certain it did not end up in the hands of your people, then you had already given it."

The way his face paled, the quickness of it, nearly alarmed her, though it did serve to confuse her even more, this visceral response.

"You encountered her?" he breathed, lunging forward suddenly to grip her arms near the shoulders, shaking her in his haste, desperation to know clear in his voice, "Where? When? Why did she…"

"Peace, my Lord, peace," Menna held up her hands to slow his rabid questioning, "I came across a girl in the woods many years ago, a pitiful creature, starving and weak. I bartered a loaf of bread for the pendent for it was all she had."

Eomer blinked, seeming to take in what was said, before he began to shake his head in earnest, "You lie," he repeated, though a whisper this time.

"I do not."

"You lie!" he insisted, squeezing her arms, a fury and devastation growing on his face, "You must. Do not..." one hand rose to point a threatening finger at her, "Do NOT stand there before me and tell me my cousin, whom I loved as dearly as a sister, would cast that off for a mere piece of bread!"

There was a hurt in his voice now.

But what else could there be? So many tragedies were revealed in so few words. To think his cousin, a mere scrap of a girl when last he saw her, would be in such dire straits as to part with his gift to her for food? To remember the joyful way her face lit up when he had given her the token, an emblem of their family, a totem of a courage and strength she felt she hadn't possessed? To recall how she had sworn and promised to never take it off and yet handed it to a complete stranger?

It had to be truly terrible and that thought made him shudder violently.

She must have been truly fearful and hungry and alone to resort to such a thing, to relinquish the pendant for food.

And if that did not break his heart to know as much as carrying Theodred's lifeless body had.

Menna eyed the man warily as he finally released her, his expression crumbling in true devastation and grief as he stepped back. This…this did not make any sense to her. All she knew told her anger, hatred, derision, disgust, those were emotions to expect...not this. He stood before her, crumbling as though he had just witnessed the death of someone he...

"You mourn for her," she murmured, small pieces of the puzzle coming together in her mind, "You…you love her still."

How...how was that possible?

Eomer shuddered, "I would never stop," he spoke, his breaking voice echoing the pain in his heart, "She is family."

"Why do you care for her?" Menna demanded suddenly, something like anger and grief and regret in her voice, "She is a traitor to your noble house! She brought shame upon the Horse Lords with her very being! Why do you care for one who was so cowardly she abandoned her family in their greatest need?"

Eomer's eyes closed tightly, shaking his head, the anger he felt at her baseless accusations drowned out by the utter despair and torment in his very soul at the news he had learned, "It was my fault," he admitted, turning away from her, unable to speak to her face, unable to speak these words while looking anyone in the eye, so great was his shame, "I could not protect her. She was lost to us because of my failure."

Menna stepped back at the grief and guilt in his voice, looking away as she blinked back tears of her own. She swallowed hard, "You are not to blame, Eomer," she said quietly, after a long moment of silence where all that could be heard was the man struggling to hold himself together as his world crashed down around him amid what should have been one of the greatest victories of Rohan.

"You know not of what you speak," he countered, turning to look at her over his shoulder.

Menna inhaled sharply at the look in his eyes, the raw pain reflected in them.

"I was to protect her," he repeated, and his voice cracked on the last, agonizing word, "Her and Eowyn, the purest treasures left of our family. It was my duty to keep them safe from all dangers, from the darkness lurking around the King. I could not save him, I was not strong enough," he shook his head, looking down, "I was not strong enough to protect either of them in the end. And now she is lost to me. It was my fault. My family has paid the price for my weakness."

He turned to go, his entire being sagging with the burden of what he had admitted to her.

Menna could not stop her lip from trembling as she watched him step away, utterly defeated, as though a hope he had held onto, one of his last hopes, had been extinguished. She could not stop the way her hands shook, nor how one touched her pendent.

Everything crashed down around her in that moment, the battle, the fighting, how near she had come to losing her life, the loss of all the other lives, the women mourning their families, that sorrow so strongly reflected in Eomer, even more so in him, and so...she could not stop the words slipping past her lips.

"She would not."

Eomer stopped and turned to look at her, weary and worn and resigned, not even bothering to ask what she meant for there was nothing left in him, no curiosity, no joy, no anger, nothing.

She swallowed hard and took a breath, her heart racing as she spoke one of the first truths she had in too many years.

"She would not part with such a token, given by one she loved as a brother," she elaborated, "Not for anything."

The breath left her as she watched the words reach his ears, watched him frown in confusion as she countered everything she had said only minutes ago, watched as the realization of what they meant played out across his face.

He strode towards her, a hand reaching for her face, and this time she did not flinch back, did not slap at his hands, but allowed the touch. To any other who might have spied them, it would appear he had cupped her cheek, but she could feel how his fingertips alone touched her skin, moving towards the back of her left jaw, tracing a faint scar that existed there, one given in youth, when an ill timed turn had allowed a would-be shieldmaiden to land a slash, causing red to trickle down to the fright and alarm of two male cousins who had been egging them on.

She watched him so intently, now so close, she could see the way his wide eyes stared at her, could see the exact movement of his mouth as he opened it, his lips forming a name…

"No," she cut in before he could speak it, "She is dead," she spoke outright, ignoring the flinch he gave, "She has been for a long time. That girl in your memories, she does not exist any longer. Do you understand?"

Eomer could only nod that he did.

It had been too many years for that child to remain the same, life had not been kind, but life had endured.

"It is just as well," he said, eyeing her carefully, taking her in with new eyes, his hand still on her face, needing the warmth, needing the faint pulse he felt in his fingertips to remind him she was truly there, alive, "The boy who lost her died the moment she vanished."

Menna's face scrunched in pain at his words for the briefest flicker of a moment, but it was enough.

Eomer pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly as she tucked her face into his chest, resting his chin on her head as he looked upwards, thanking every power out there for this restoration in the face of all he'd lost.

So tightly did they hold each other, so great was their reunion, that neither noticed Aragorn step into the room, having gone in search of Menna when he'd been told by a small girl that she had left the caves.

He could only look on for a moment, before silently returning to the darkness of the steps and turning to leave.

To be continued...in...Queen's Gambit!

A/N: I have to start this by saying no, there will be no love triangle nor a mistaken love triangle on Aragorn's part. And no, this revelation of Menna's will not become some grand reveal or affect anything in a major way. Those are two tropes/traps that won't feature here lol ;)

Aragorn is a very observant man. He's seen something that is not a 'betrayal' (Menna in the arms of another man) but something he can't make sense of. Because he's come to know Menna and what he knows is not matching up to what he's seen here. He will watch and he will learn quite a lot through watching that will both reassure him and make him wonder. But I can assure you, no jealousy, no Aragorn acting petulant or bitter or challenging Eomer for her hand ;) He doesn't seem the sort to make a huge scene about anything, but more to learn before he reacts.

The revelation Eomer has had will also not affect much. Menna does NOT want anyone to know about her or else she would have revealed herself to Theoden and Eowyn earlier. Eomer will respect that out of love for her, he will tell no one. Though...Eomer may not be subtle in his sudden trust of and concern for her (a man who runs across a battlefield and collapses in tears for their sister doesn't seem the sort to hold much in). Menna is still Nameless, she still lived her life how she did, she is still Menna, her relation to Eomer is not the ONLY thing about her, just one piece he happens to know that others don't. I'm going to do my best to keep it from becoming a 'she's their long lost family' bit, she is lost for a while and she is family but I want to try and get around it by it not being a big to-do, only one person knows, she's not going to suddenly reclaim a crown and title, she isn't that girl any longer. She's not 'the true heir of Rohan' or older than Eomer or Eowyn so she can't usurp them or their claim. It's really just a sort of 'here's where she came from' but she isn't really feeling like she can go back :(

I feel like many of you called it, Menna's connection to Rohan. She knows their language, she's familiar with their customs, she knows Fangorn Forest, her reaction to learning who Eomer was. There was even tiny hints that she knew which direction to direct the refugees when the wargs attacked and she knew which path from the main hall would lead down to the caves where the women hid ;) I really tried to make this revelation not a huge surprise but still an 'I knew it!' moment, alluding to it and building up to it so it wasn't out of the blue.

I can say that there will be much more on both Menna and Eomer's inner thoughts about all this, about her past and why she did what she did, the crime she feels she's committed, which appears to be a little more complicated than originally thought (Eomer had NO idea where his cousin went or why, so was it really her family that kicked her out? Did Wormtongue get to Theoden and the king cast her out without speaking to the others? What really happened?). Menna's reaction to Eomer's grief will be something to be discussed in the next story. She truly believed she wasn't important enough for him to care that she disappeared, she didn't think it would affect his life or the lives of the family as much as it clearly did. Why? We'll see more about it in the next story }:)

Speaking of the next story...it may take a while before we can get to it. I'm going to be aiming for finishing Sadie, Claire, and Angel's stories first and then evaluating where I am and what stories will come next. But I'll do my best to put a note about it on tumblr when I get to that point ;)

Poor Menna though. It's so easy to forget, given how she holds herself and the life experiences she has, that she is actually the youngest member of the Fellowship. Everyone else, even the Hobbits, are older than her, even Pippin is older than her. She hasn't seen a real battle nor has she ever trained for one, so I felt like she needed that one moment of breaking down :( With her personality, I couldn't see her falling apart anywhere others could see her, I couldn't see her doing so for long. I imagine she's had plenty of times in the past where she took time to cry over something and suffered for that weakness or delay when she was found or didn't get far enough away in time :( She's learned to feel it, but push it down and get back up as fast as possible, because you can't afford to be caught. She had her moment, but before she could gather herself completely, Eomer found her.

I honestly think she would have taken her secret of the pendent to the grave against Eomer, would have allowed herself to be arrested as a thief and go through a public spectacle of a trial, if it hadn't been for that breakdown. She was emotionally overwhelmed, exhausted, and just a wreck, and then to see Eomer break down, not over the battle or the losses or the horrors of war, but because he'd learned that someone he loved was likely dead for a while now? To see him having carried that hope for so many years and then have it shattered? To have THAT be what broke him? I don't think she could stand it, being the cause of it in terms of telling him that tale and being the focus of his mourning :'( If he had caught her earlier or even an hour later, she would have denied it to her dying breath. He overheard her speak words of comfort about the dead that he himself had said in the past, and followed, he had some good timing in that sense.

And, just to end...I really have to say thank you guys SO much! Really, I give each and every reader/reviewer/favoriter/follower/ko-fi giver/anythinger a virtual hug because you guys are amazing :) I write for all of you guys and I'm just so touched that you all liked the story and am truly thankful that you're enjoying Menna :) I'll do my very best to keep it up in the future, because you guys most definitely deserve it. I love you all :')

Some notes on reviews...

Very true, Arwen, being as old as she is, is probably past any sort of jealousy and would move into more hurt and sorrow in lost love. I can say we'll see a hint of her thoughts in the next story (not at the very end but early-ish) that might foreshadow if she'll be there at the end or not ;)

I'm glad you're liking the story! You were very, very close about Menna :) I can say a little more now that there's been a pretty significant reveal in this chapter, I tried laying out some subtle references for her connection to Rohan so I'm glad it was picked up on but also a sort of 'IS she?' thing :) You hit the nail on the head with the shame she feels in being afraid of horses, we'll see MUCH more about shame and how she views it and herself in the next story. From what I know of Rohan, Theoden had at least 4 sisters, 1 of whom was Eowyn and Eomer's mother. Not much was known/written about his other 3 sisters, whether they died as infants or children or in childbirth or married or anything. Just that they were no longer alive. So I took a little liberty to imagine that they all lived to different ages but at least one of them lived to the point of having children, and through various situations all died till it was just Eomer, Eowyn, Theodred, and you know who left ;)

Oh yes, Aragorn when Menna's hurt? Run :) Menna would NOT have been a fan of that 'ride or die' plan lol, and I think Aragorn would have left her behind, not out of a cruelty to mock her fear but she would be unable to fight given her fear of horses and he would have done it to protect her. That was something I wondered too about the women and children and who rode out when. I tried to answer it here, a few people had horses and rode out, the rest followed on foot, but Menna and Boromir remained behind to take on any stragglers that made it past that attack. Lucky for them, when Gandalf arrived all the enemy turned on him and stopped trying to attack the keep :) Yup, the horses are connected to her pas, we'll find out what else in the next story ;) The battle at Helm's Deep was more her first real taste of warfare. Shieldmaidens would handle it better, training for battle, but Menna only has her practice. She was determined to fight, but not prepared for the absolute horror it was :'( She had her little breakdown moment there :( My nostalgia moments always come whenever Sailor Moon is involved, like I can legit see a postcard of it and I'm like 'Now I need to go home and watch the entire series...and the live action...and the musicals...' :) But yup, story is over for now :( So far, if I keep the updating schedule I've been doing, I'll reach the point of revaluation around end of August/beginning of September, so a bit of a wait, but I've definitely kept Menna high on my list of next-step stories, since there's only 1 story left of hers to wrap up her entire series so you never know ;)

Thank you :) I'm glad the battle scene went ok, I think I rewrote it about 3 times because I would start to writ out the entire scene, then realize 'wait, Menna and Aragorn aren't right there seeing it so...why?' and then go back and then I'd get a little too into going back and forth to follow each character and it didn't flow so I'm glad it eventually worked out :)

I completely understand! No worries :) I've heard from a friend or two that they've had the same issue with the ads popping up each time they try to read a story on heir phone. I'm not sure if it's the same on desktop. I definitely did not set anything for ads and double checked to be sure, nothing on my side is set like that as far as I'm aware :( I hope it's just a bug and the site fixes it soon :( I hope you enjoy the rest of the story when you're able to get to it without the ads everywhere :)