DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters, ideas, or world of Lord of
the Rings. All quotes in quotation marks are from Peter Jackson and
company. I borrow them from Mr. Tolkien and New Line Cinema with thanks,
and hopefully return them unharmed.
"And what would you have me do?" Theoden hissed at Aragorn. Look at my men - their courage hangs by a thread."
Theoden was very aware of the ears that strained to hear his quiet comment. His men had heard their King's brave speech "Within these walls we will outlast them." They had also heard the doubt in the dwarf's reply.
Now, as he strove to provide his men with some hope, some small measure to cling to in the dark hours ahead, Aragorn brashly pointed out the truth to all that listened.
By morning, they would all be dead. The Uruk-hai would have no mercy on Rohan. In the end, not even the ancient walls and defences of Helm's Deep would protect them.
Once, Theoden would have been confident that the battle could be won, even out-numbered as they were. Rohan had once had many friends, when Gondor was strong, before the dark times. Messengers and friends had travelled freely between the capitals. Aid would have been swift and sure.
Now, the old alliances were broken. No help would come, not from Dwarves, not from Elves, and certainly not from Gondor. Rohan stood alone against the enemy.
Still, Theoden would not have despaired. The Rohirrim had proved them selves in battle many times. He would have had hope that his people would survive to fight another day.
But, his son was dead, lost to the enemy. Eomer, too, was gone, banished by his own hand. Theoden King stood alone with his people. If there was no hope for the future of Theoden's house, there could be no hope for Theoden, and no hope for the survival of Rohan.
Too long had their King lingered in shadows. Too long had he allowed his eyes to be blinded to the fate of the Riddermark. His people had needed him, and he had been weak. Now, it was too late.
Only one thing remained. "If this is to be our end, I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance." The people of Rohan would not fade quietly into history. They would fight until the last breath of the last child wailed out in despair. Men everywhere for all time would sing of the last defence of the Eorlingas. Theoden would ensure not one of his people were ashamed to enter the halls of their forefathers.
Sometimes, the only thing a King could do was help his people face the truth - there could be no hope. **************************************************************************** **************
"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn's words echoed in his ears as he sat alone on the stairs, watching the Rohirrim prepare for war.
It was the first time he had ever publicly aligned himself with the world of men. He had always been more elf-like, quick to scorn human ways. He smiled briefly - no wonder Legolas seemed so shocked.
Legolas thought the battle hopeless. He did not understand what drove men to fight battles that could not be won. For elves that lived forever, the senseless deaths in war could never be understood. And Legolas was angry that his friends were in the midst of it.
Aragorn looked down at his hands. There on his finger was the ring of Barad-hur - the symbol of both the weaknesses of his past, and the hope for his future. Aragorn had grown up in an atmosphere of subtle contempt for mankind. Although he had no doubt his foster father had loved him, he could still hear the oft-repeated comment of Lord Elrond "Men are weak." And for a long time, Aragorn had believed it.
Yet, there was strength in the world of men, as he had privately acknowledged many times, with out understanding it. Aragorn briefly touched the black leather vambraces he wore on his forearms. Not too many days ago, he had privately pledged himself to the defence of men, to Boromir and to Gondor. "Our people", he had said. In return, Boromir had come to believe in Aragorn's strength, and entrusted him with the future. "My Brother, my Captain, my King." Aragorn could not betray his friend's oath.
And years ago Aragorn had rode with Thengil King, Theoden's father. Although few now lived who remembered, under the name Thorongil Aragorn had pledged his service and his allegiance to Rohan. The Rohirrim had accepted his service, and for a time Aragorn had belonged to the world of men.
Now it was time for him to publicly affirm those secret vows. Too long had he hid in the shadows, content to watch the fate of men. Too long had he allowed his personal fears to rule his actions. But it was not too late.
There was still strength in men to overcome the enemy. There was still strength in his blood to resist the lure of evil. And maybe, there was hope.
Aragorn lifted the white Evenstar, his hope, to his lips in a silent benediction. Sometimes, the best thing a King could do for his people was give them hope.
Catching the glance of a young lad barely into his teen years, Aragorn called him over.
"There is always hope."
"And what would you have me do?" Theoden hissed at Aragorn. Look at my men - their courage hangs by a thread."
Theoden was very aware of the ears that strained to hear his quiet comment. His men had heard their King's brave speech "Within these walls we will outlast them." They had also heard the doubt in the dwarf's reply.
Now, as he strove to provide his men with some hope, some small measure to cling to in the dark hours ahead, Aragorn brashly pointed out the truth to all that listened.
By morning, they would all be dead. The Uruk-hai would have no mercy on Rohan. In the end, not even the ancient walls and defences of Helm's Deep would protect them.
Once, Theoden would have been confident that the battle could be won, even out-numbered as they were. Rohan had once had many friends, when Gondor was strong, before the dark times. Messengers and friends had travelled freely between the capitals. Aid would have been swift and sure.
Now, the old alliances were broken. No help would come, not from Dwarves, not from Elves, and certainly not from Gondor. Rohan stood alone against the enemy.
Still, Theoden would not have despaired. The Rohirrim had proved them selves in battle many times. He would have had hope that his people would survive to fight another day.
But, his son was dead, lost to the enemy. Eomer, too, was gone, banished by his own hand. Theoden King stood alone with his people. If there was no hope for the future of Theoden's house, there could be no hope for Theoden, and no hope for the survival of Rohan.
Too long had their King lingered in shadows. Too long had he allowed his eyes to be blinded to the fate of the Riddermark. His people had needed him, and he had been weak. Now, it was too late.
Only one thing remained. "If this is to be our end, I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance." The people of Rohan would not fade quietly into history. They would fight until the last breath of the last child wailed out in despair. Men everywhere for all time would sing of the last defence of the Eorlingas. Theoden would ensure not one of his people were ashamed to enter the halls of their forefathers.
Sometimes, the only thing a King could do was help his people face the truth - there could be no hope. **************************************************************************** **************
"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn's words echoed in his ears as he sat alone on the stairs, watching the Rohirrim prepare for war.
It was the first time he had ever publicly aligned himself with the world of men. He had always been more elf-like, quick to scorn human ways. He smiled briefly - no wonder Legolas seemed so shocked.
Legolas thought the battle hopeless. He did not understand what drove men to fight battles that could not be won. For elves that lived forever, the senseless deaths in war could never be understood. And Legolas was angry that his friends were in the midst of it.
Aragorn looked down at his hands. There on his finger was the ring of Barad-hur - the symbol of both the weaknesses of his past, and the hope for his future. Aragorn had grown up in an atmosphere of subtle contempt for mankind. Although he had no doubt his foster father had loved him, he could still hear the oft-repeated comment of Lord Elrond "Men are weak." And for a long time, Aragorn had believed it.
Yet, there was strength in the world of men, as he had privately acknowledged many times, with out understanding it. Aragorn briefly touched the black leather vambraces he wore on his forearms. Not too many days ago, he had privately pledged himself to the defence of men, to Boromir and to Gondor. "Our people", he had said. In return, Boromir had come to believe in Aragorn's strength, and entrusted him with the future. "My Brother, my Captain, my King." Aragorn could not betray his friend's oath.
And years ago Aragorn had rode with Thengil King, Theoden's father. Although few now lived who remembered, under the name Thorongil Aragorn had pledged his service and his allegiance to Rohan. The Rohirrim had accepted his service, and for a time Aragorn had belonged to the world of men.
Now it was time for him to publicly affirm those secret vows. Too long had he hid in the shadows, content to watch the fate of men. Too long had he allowed his personal fears to rule his actions. But it was not too late.
There was still strength in men to overcome the enemy. There was still strength in his blood to resist the lure of evil. And maybe, there was hope.
Aragorn lifted the white Evenstar, his hope, to his lips in a silent benediction. Sometimes, the best thing a King could do for his people was give them hope.
Catching the glance of a young lad barely into his teen years, Aragorn called him over.
"There is always hope."