THE GRAVITY OF LOVE
(Or, The way that Lord of the Rings: The Third Age SHOULD have ended...)
This story was inspired by the Engima song "The Gravity of Love", which is quoted throughout the story. Don't be surprised if you also see some quotes from the movies "Little Women" and "Ever After" pop up in the very last scene. What can I say, the writers of those movies said it all a heckuva lot better than I ever could.
Anyway, this story is a complete rewrite of the last section of the LOTR:The Third Age game, starting from the end of the Nazgul battle on Pellenor Fields. This is for all the people who despised the ending of the game and wanted Berethor and Idrial to get together!
As the last Nagzul dissipated in a burst of eerie light, Berethor and Elegost ran to Morwen's side.
"Is she still alive?" Berethor asked, desperately looking for any sign of movement.
Elegost leaned in close to Morwen, picked up her wrist, and nodded gravely. "Yes, but barely."
The sound of footfall to their left side forced both men to look up. It was Aragorn. "What evil has happened here?"
"A Nazgul blade," Berethor replied. "Is there anything that can be done?"
"I will not let her pass," Aragorn said.
Whether it was secret Elven magic or something else that healed her, no one in the band of Berethor could be sure. But after a few moments, Morwen slowly sat up. She looked up into Berethor's face and beamed.
"You have given me hope," she smiled, touching his face tenderly with both hands, leaning in to kiss him.
Berethor smiled warmly, but took her hands in his and gently placed them down. "For that I am grateful. I regret, though, that I cannot give you what you wish."
Morwen's eyes grew large. "Berethor?"
"I am sorry," he said softly, then slowly stood and turned to look at Eoden behind him. "Is Mithrandia still on the field?"
Eoden nodded. "He and the King have just returned to the field from counsel. They have plans to take the battle to the Black Gate."
"Good," he said. "It is imperative that I speak with him before he goes."
"It is good to see you Gondorian," Gandalf nodded as he saw Berethor approach.
"As it is you, Mithrandia," Berethor said as he bowed. "I must speak with you about an urgent matter."
"There is no need," Gandalf said gravely. "For I already know to whom this matter applies."
"Can nothing be done to change fate? Does a man not have a choice to follow his own heart over the dictates of fate?"
Gandalf sighed. "The only one who may decide if that is true has already gone."
"She has already left?" Berethor asked astonishedly. Their band of six had been scattered to the four winds of the battlefield during their fight with the Nazgul, but he was certain she would still be there, somewhere, and that he would find her so he might finally find a way to tell her what was in his heart.
"It was the wish of the Lady Galadriel, so that she could leave to the lands to the West along with the rest of her people." Gandalf replied. "She desperately wanted to stay to the very end, to protect you, but I reminded her of the promise she made to Galadriel." He paused. "Under the circumstances, she thought it would be best to not give her farewells."
"It cannot end this way," Berethor pleaded. "Tell me it cannot end this way."
Gandalf placed a hand on Berethor's shoulder. "Let us face this last fight together, Gondorian," he said. "If there is an after to it, I shall do everything in my power to get you to her."
Don't think twice before you listen to your heart,
Follow the trace for a new start.
What you need and everything you'll feel
Is just a question of the deal
In the eye of storm you'll see a lonely dove
The experience of survival is the key
To the gravity of love
Idrial of Lothlorien stood at the open window, staring out into the harbor and the vastness of the sea beyond. Elegantly crafted boats filled the water as elves from every region of Middle Earth prepared for their final journey to the Lands of the West.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Why did she still feel so ill at ease? She had finished her job – she had played her part to help save Middle Earth. It was only right to now be leaving it behind. Was it not her destiny? Her family, her people were all leaving. There was nothing to keep her here anymore.
She took another breath and exhaled slowly again.
Yes, there is nothing to keep me here. Not anymore.
"Idrial, the time is drawing near," a gentle voice said.
Idrial turned to see the Lady Galadriel ascending the steps to her room. "I will be ready, my lady," she replied with a small smile.
"You have more than earned your journey," Galadriel said. " I could not have asked for a more loyal and valorous friend."
Idrial nodded in silence.
"That is, unless you do not wish to leave?" Galadriel said.
Idrial turned to her with an astonished expression on her face. "I wish for nothing more. To be with my people in the lands of Valar is the only thing I desire."
"Do not be too hasty, my beloved friend," Galadriel said with a cryptic smile as she turned to leave. "Like the seasons or even the ages, things have a way of changing in ways even we could never hope to understand."
The remaining members of the Band of Berethor stood outside of what once had been Mordor, solemnly surveying the destruction and ruin that surrounded them.
"I can scarcely believe it is all gone, that HE is gone," Elegost said. "It feels as if I am in a dream."
"What happens now?" Hadhod asked, shouldering his heavy axe.
Morwen, whose tired face still held the deep lines of heartbreak, gathered herself up into a proud stance. "Eomer and Eowyn will need assistance in the rebuilding Rohan," she said. "I may be Gondorian of birth, but I will be a shield maiden of Rohan until the day I die."
"I too shall return to Edoras," Eoden nodded. "After all they have endured, the people of Rohan will need many hands to help bring back all that once was."
"That is fine and good for all those that are of Rohan," Hadhod snorted, "but what are the rest of us to do?"
Elegost smiled as he raised an eyebrow at Hadhod. "You know, friend, I saw quite a large company of orcs escape past the forest and the Ents." He leaned in and added conspiratorially, "There are more than enough for the both of us."
Hadhod beamed and raised his axe. "Now that's more like it, laddie!"
Try to think about it ...
That's the chance to live your life and discover
What it is, what's the gravity of love
Berethor steeled his strength and pushed his steed to go faster. He knew he must be getting closer, as the smell of the sea permeated the air around him. He could not be too late. He could not fail in this quest.
Finally the trees fell away and the scenery opened up to reveal a mystic looking port, with glistening towers and otherworldly ships tethered in the harbor. Berethor had not seen such grace and grandeur since their stop long ago in Lothlorien.
Spying an elf clad in the style of the Lothlorien elves nearby, he reigned his horse to a halt and leapt off in one movement.
"Please sir, I must know," Berethor barely managed as he raced towards the elf, "does the Lady Idrial still remain on these shores?"
The male elf looked at him quizzically, as if he was not able to reconcile the presence of one of the race of Men at the port to the lands beyond. "All who are here but the Lady Galadriel and her consort are to leave at the setting of the sun one day's hence."
Berethor let out a relieved breath, then looked up at the elf again. "Do you know where I might find her?"
"She is a room in the Royal Quarters, near to the Lady Galadriel," he said. "I will take you there if you wish."
Berethor followed the placid elf, trying his best to suppress his impatience while willing him to walk faster with every step.
After what felt like an eternity, the elf stopped in front of a gilded door at the bottom of a long staircase. "She should be in the first room up this passage."
"Thank you good sir," Berethor said as the elf nodded and walked away. He reached for the door handle, then hesitated. What was he waiting for? He had come too far to give up now for fear of the answer he may very well receive. Steeling all his heart's courage, he slowly pulled the handle towards him and opened the door.
Look around just people, can you hear their voice
Find the one who'll guide you to the limits of your choice
But if you're in the eye of storm
Just think of the lonely dove
The experience of survival is the key
To the gravity of love.
She did not see him at first – Idrial was still gazing out of the window in her room, deep in thought. Berethor drew in his breath as he first saw her. He had thought her beautiful when he had first seen her, and despite all their battles and fatigue, that opinion had never once been altered. But to see her now was a revelation. Her usually braided hair hung free under a silver and teal headband. As she turned to acknowledge the presence in her room, her eyes reflected the teal, blue and green colors of the long, delicately embroidered dress she wore. Berethor wanted to drop to his knees in awe; she was a vision.
Idrial's face slightly crumpled in confusion. "Berethor?"
The dam that had held back what he had wanted to say in his heart for so long seemed to disintegrate as he walked to her with a complete sense of purpose. He dropped to one knee and took both her hands in his.
"I know what you said of fate, and that our paths would not cross again once our quest was completed. But I cannot follow a fate that is not in my heart." He took a deep breath and continued. "I come to you not as a Gondorian, or as a soldier, but as a man in love. I have loved you since the first moment I clasped eyes on you, but I shall lock everything that is in my heart away forever if you tell me you do not feel the same way."
Idrial's eyes watered as she gently pulled her hands away and, ashamed by her sudden burst of emotion, turned to the window. "You know full well I cannot say such a thing."
Berethor rose and stood next to her. "Then why stop this? Fate means nothing if there is love to counter it."
Idrial turned to face Berethor, her eyes shining with tears. "A fish may love a bird, Lord Berethor, but where would they live?"
"In a land all their own," he said, taking her hands in his once again. He turned to look out the window at the ships floating in the harbor.
"You, you do not mean to come to the West?" Idrial asked, astonished.
"Long ago, you saved my life from the Nazgul, and have done so countless times since. Were it not for you, I would not be here standing here today. My life is yours, my lady. I go where you go."
"I cannot ask that of you," Idrial barely breathed as she looked down. She squeezed both of Berethor's hands and looked back up at him. "Long have I felt an uneasiness about leaving Middle Earth. I knew it was my people's time to leave, but somehow, I felt that my life here was not yet finished. Now I am certain that it is not." She looked up at him. "There is no need to sail to the lands of the West, for I will go with you to Gondor."
Berethor looked at her quizzically. "But, your people, the Lady Galadriel..."
Idrial nodded. "The Lady Galadriel spoke of this to me, but I did not understand what she was trying to say until now."
Berethor embraced Idrial tightly. "I cannot ask you to do this for me. Like Lady Arwen, you will continue on long after I and everyone else you will know grows old and passes. I could not live with myself if you had to face such a lonely existence."
"But that is where you are wrong," Idrial whispered. "If we are so blessed, our children and children's children will grow to make this land great. In that I will never truly be alone, I promise you."
"But I cannot ask this of you," Berethor said, pulling away slightly to look her in the eyes.
Idrial looked up at him and smiled. "You cannot ask for something that has already been given," she smiled as his hand touched her face. He leaned in to give her a gentle kiss. As their lips met, Idrial felt her whole being fill with a happiness and contentment she could not have imagined.
She was finally free.
Fin