"Father, Grandfather's health is getting worse by the day..." Denethor II, who had just turned twenty-one that year, sighed as he looked at his father, Exeterian II. Historically, his grandfather Turgon would die of illness in the year 2953 of the Third Age, and only then would his father inherit the office of Steward.
"Your Highness! The Steward requests your presence!" Keymaster Hulin personally came over to invite Exeterian II.
"Alright. Stay here and wait. I'll go see your grandfather!" Exeterian II patted Denethor II on the head before walking inside. Within the palace, Turgon and a group of nobles were discussing state affairs. Clearly, Denethor II's current status did not qualify him to join them.
"..." Denethor II gazed worriedly into the palace. Looking upon the magnificent White City, he inexplicably felt suffocated.
"Perhaps I should do something!" Denethor II cast a determined glance northward. While Roland's Lagrange Kingdom was continuously fighting the Orcs and winning battle after battle, Denethor II was not as delighted as the nobles of other kingdoms. He knew this was merely an appetizer. The tendrils of darkness would not cease their advance, and a few battles that had not caused catastrophic losses would not truly cripple Mordor. Fully aware of the Orcs' potential for war, Denethor II did not feel that everything was settled, unlike the other nobles.
History's evaluation of Denethor II was quite high. Other than Aragorn, shrouded in protagonist's luck, no one was better than him! In the original work, he was described thus: noble and powerful, with an intense desire for control and immense pride, even daring to challenge Gandalf. He was tall, brave, wise, farsighted, and exceptionally learned, possessing more kingly bearing than anyone Gondor had produced in many generations!
"The kingdom's military preparedness is lax, while the nobles