Author's Note: There are a few direct quotes in here. Plus, my own
personal feelings about what was really going on between Aragorn and
Eowyn. As for the Rohirrim royalty, that's my own personal feelings
based on a few things I've read recently.
Part 12
Gandalf stopped Pippin from using the palantir but know that the young hobbit would be in danger from it. Leaving it in Aragorn's care, he took the hobbit with him and immediately departed for Gondor. "The danger is even greater now," he explained.
Eowyn, Eomer, Aragorn, and Narvanata watched them go before turning around. "What now, your majesty?"
Aragorn was puzzled by the fact that it was directed towards Eowyn. She, on the other hand, seemed to find nothing wrong with it. Or surprising about it. "We split up the army into several small divisions. Dernhelm shall be in charge of homeland security. Where is he anyway?"
"I sent him to retrieve Theoden's sword, majesty. It is now yours, right?" There was a faint question in his voice, one that her slow nod answered.
"Thank you, Eomer. The other two should be made ready to travel to Gondor. I hesitate to suggest a course of action for Lord Aragorn as I am sure he has his own path to travel to Gondor. Our men are at you disposal. The best idea is to try to surround the enemy and fill in any blank areas inside the city itself. I believe you did say that its defenses are sadly lacking?"
"Very much so," Narvanata agreed.
"Then, I trust you to chose those who can get inside and support the walls. Dernhelm?" she questioned.
The knight knelt before her, extending the naked weapon in his hands. "King Eowyn, we return this symbol of your kingship to you. May it guard and guide you as it has all those who have used it before you."
She accepted it with a nod, "thank you, Dernhelm. Rest yourself and your men for a bit, we shall be on the move again soon. Narvanata, take a small scouting party, find out the road conditions and the quickest and safest route to Gondor. Eomer, check the weapons supply. If we have enough, check their condition. If what we have is troublesome and can't be repaired, take a party of scavengers. I shall go among the people and separate them into parties. Lord Aragorn, if you would accompany me?"
They sprang into action and Eowyn set off, sword in hand. "I must remember to get a sheath for this. Lord Aragorn, what troubles you now?" There was the slightest sound of exasperation in her voice.
"Dernhelm called you King Eowyn," he said. "Your brother yielded the sword to you."
"He did. Uncle Theoden disowned him before his death. As heir, I am the rightful possessor of the sword." Her iron voice was firm.
"But King?"
"What of it? To my people, when the female inherits, she becomes King. It has always been thus since the first princess to inherit. King Kristina's father declared her to be his heir and said that she would be raised as a prince would. Since that day, all girls born in the royal house are raised as princes," she elaborated.
"What of heirs?"
"It is up to the ruler in question. Some chose an heir among the many cousins that are born. They are raised by the ruler to take over one day. Others chose to marry and have children. As for myself, I shall never marry and plan to reinstate Eomer as heir."
Aragorn walked silently by her side, "to never marry seems a lonely lot, majesty."
"That is your opinion, Lord Aragorn, not my own. I shall not marry where I do not love, nor am loved in return. Which of these would you chose for your own party?" she ended their conversation.
"If its all the same to you, Elrohir brought word that the Rangers are riding to me. I shall travel with them, Legolas, and Gimli along the Parth Galen."
Eowyn gasped, stopping to face him. "The Paths of the Dead, lord? Are you sure that is wise? For I would not wish that something so noble be set upon a path that can only lead to destruction."
"They will give us the aid necessary if I call. You know who I am, I can and will enforce their oath."
"Would that I were a stronger person, I would keep these words locked inside. Do not go, my lord, I fear for your soul. Those that go down that benighted road, never return. I do not desire that something that is high and excellent cast away needlessly."
"Lady, I did not mean to distress you," he caught and squeezed her hand. "I take your words, not those of a coward, but those of a friend. Let your mind be at ease, I know that what I am to do is right." For he felt it was true. There was in her a reflection of himself. She was afraid, like he was. But unlike him, she had the courage to face it. In her eyes, he saw the king he was meant to be. He vowed to be worthy of her friendship.
And may be, someday, her love. If that was never to be, he would be content with her friendship.
Something passed between them, "then let it be as you wish. I shall say no more." They walked off in silence. Eowyn nodded firmly after a while, "I must see to my men."
"Lady?"
"Yes?"
"If I live through this, I shall come for you and we shall ride together." He left to join the arriving rangers.
"You shall make it, of that I have no doubt," she murmured.
The next morning, Aragorn and his riders rode away. He took one last glance behind and saw Eowyn watching him. Turning back, only those who knew him could see the pain he carried with him. Friend or a love dearer to him than he expected after Arwen, he cared only that he see her alive and well.
For he knew that her path as king would take her to Gondor. King Eowyn would lead them into battle. And he feared what might come from her battle against the King of Angmar.
/-/-/-/
Outside Gondor:
King Eowyn rode at the head of the Rohirrim army. To her right, Eomer sat, and on her left, Narvanata. "Join your queen in battle, Narvanata. We must be a cohesive unit, so I shall have the men stay out of your way."
With a nod, the Shield Maid rode away.
"Eomer, any word of aid?"
"The sky is clear," he replied.
She was silent for a moment, "I hate to be precipitate but we cannot allow the walls to fall any farther. Take your men and lead them well," she decided.
"See you on the inside!" he saluted and left. Once he was in position, he gave the signal to wait until Idis and Eowyn gave the joint signal. Three armies charged into the fighting arena, driving the forces from the walls. In the front lines, urging the enemies on, was the King of Angmar.
Merry leaned over, pointing him out. "Our moment, my king, is at hand." He returned to his position, clutching his elven knife tightly in his hand.
"Then we shall ride to meet it, Sir Merriadoc," she replied grimly. Turning Brego, she forced him to approach the dark shape surrounded by rotting, stinking beings.
As they drew nearer, the malevolent being turned and watched them. Brego tried to turn away but Eowyn held her firmly in place. "Insolent warrior. Know ye not who I am?"
She coolly stared at him, no answer but to tighten her grip on her blade. Around them, the sounds of the battle seemed to slow and quiet down. There was only the three of them, silently dueling it out.
A cold laugh passed dead lips, "foolishness. No living man may harm the King of Angmar."
"how brave your words for one who will fall by the blade of Rohan's king."
He grunted in surprise at the strength of the blows. "The brave words are your. Why waste your life in such futility? Sauron may have a place for one such as you."
Flinging aside her helmet, she proudly proclaimed. "I am Eowyn, Shield Maiden and King of the Rohirrim. I willingly bow to no one."
Incensed, he brought down his sword with a mighty blow that knocked Merry and Eowyn off Brego. She rose unsteadily to her feet and drove her blade deep into the thick skin of the Nazgul lord's mount, evening the playing field once again. Swords clashed, sending off sparks of light and heat. She grunted as he bent her back and towards the ground, gaining the upper hand when she stumbled. Merry darted out and struck him in the shin, moving back when he turned to search for him.
The warrior rolled over and lashed out with her whip, causing him to stumble and turn back to her. Their blades locked ferociously against each other. Dancing around each other, they were unaware of the battle stopping around them as the forces watched. Of to the side, Merry waited and rushed out when Eowyn went down with a cry as her arm landed with a sickening crack on the ground.
Driving his blade in deep, he heard the satisfying shriek of pain and rage come from the dark creature. Taking another chance, he slashed its other leg. The Nazgul turned and flung him back. Pale and shaky, Eowyn rose and blocked his blade, forcing it to turn with hers. With the last of her strength, she used the blade to severe the head from the neck and shoulders.
Merry rushed to her side as the armies of darkness began to flee, "majesty?"
Eowyn looked at him, smiling faintly. "Take this to my broir. Tell Eomer that the kingdom is his." Whisper soft voice, her eyes closed and her breathing slowly faded.
The young squire cried out, pulling her into a tighter embrace. Golden hair spilled down her back and mingled in the dirt and blood on the ground. Blood pooled from the open wound on her arm and traced grotesque patterns on the exposed white skin. Tears coursed down Merry's checks, cutting through the grime and leaving ghostly behind.
Eomer and Aragorn pushed their way through the carnage. Legolas and Gimli covering their backs while Elladan and Elrohir tried to make sense of what they were babbling about. Elladan immediately reached for his supply of Athelas. In Aragorn's hands, they would heal the dying ruler. Aragorn didn't even hesitate, kneeling beside her to administer to the wounds. Already the hand of death was staking its claim. But none of the men there would give it victory.
"Eomer, led the charge. Push them back, I need more time," Aragorn ordered through tense lips.
Elladan allowed him no chance to object. Taking his arm in a strong grip, he led him into the press of fighting men. Fury at the situation fueled his natural strength and he pushed through the enemy.
Hours later, she rested peacefully in the House of Healing. Pale but no longer a deadly white, her arm bound tightly to her chest to prevent her from re-breaking it. Her leg was tightly bound as well, luckily both breaks had been clean. A thin scar crossed the side of her face. It would fade in time, but would mar her features. Too others, it was a mark of shame. But to her and her people, a badge of courage.
Aragorn sat by the bed, counting her inhalations and exhalations. Three days had passed since the battle and she had only awakened once. He buried his head in his hands, sighing deeply. All his own efforts had been for naught, another voice had called her back. Why was he so upset about that? Should he not be thankful that she was back among the living?
Boromir found Aragorn still there when he made his rounds an hour before dawn. "You will make yourself ill with waiting, my king."
Aragorn sighed, "she did not come when I called."
"Why does this trouble you?" he asked, forcing him to his feet.
"I don't know," he shrugged. "May be I felt that her love for me would bring her back. I thought that we were friends."
"Aragorn, I know her better than you. She is your friend."
"Then why did she not come?"
"Why should she? She knew of your strength and nobility, she knew you would survive the path you had chosen. There was no doubt in her mind for the darkness to work with, no fear for it to feast upon. Since he could not torment her with visions of you fallen and trapped, why would she follow you? She stayed because she believed her brother was there, his fate was in question for her."
By this point, the Steward's son and his king were at the rooms Denethor had reluctantly given to him. From the thoughtful look on Aragorn's face, he knew that he was processing the words. "Rest, my lord, tomorrow we will see my father."
Gandalf waited in the shadows, "how is he?" The question came when both men were alone in the hall.
"Which?" he asked rhetorically, knowing that Istari knew he'd been with his father all day, arguing about Aragorn. "My father is mad. And our only hope is confused by his perceived failure. I fear the only one who can alleviate that fear still lies abed, deeply asleep."
"What think you of Aragorn and Eowyn?"
"I think it is too soon for either of them make any such commitments. Aragorn, though he may deny it, is a romantic. He senses their similarities and wishes to make her a part of his life. The problem is, he met her after letting go Arwen. There is a confusion about him, the fact that he is drawn inexplicably to this mortal woman. I fear for him. Eowyn is a practical woman, she examines everything carefully. Knowing her, she may feel that their deeper emotions are only be battle love."
"Not one to wear her heart on her sleeve, is she?" The Istari mused, "I wish the same could be said of Aragorn. I have heard much speculation about them."
"Yes, he sees much of himself in her," Boromir yawned. "She won't let him sway her. The belief in herself is awe inspiring, Aragorn is trying to emulate her."
"He is, which isn't a bad thing."
"But he may become dependent on her," Boromir worried.
"Ah, now who is making snap judgments. Aragorn has more strength than he knows and it is emerging." Gandalf smiled, "I shall find Pippin. You should rest."
"My father is quite taken with him," he mentioned tiredly.
"Yes. I had hoped that he would regain his humanity through association with him. Alas, that is not to be," he murmured quietly.
"Where is Faramir? I thought he arrived with that party."
"This I do not yet know, but I did see him." He replied, a slight frown marring his face. "I shall endeavor to find out."
They parted then and Gandalf made his way to the chamber rooms Denethor had taken refuge in. The state of the man frightened Gandalf, though logically he knew he should be beyond such emotions.
Pippin raced towards him, "Gandalf! I tried to stop him but he...he...took him down there, with a torch, claiming he was dead."
"Slow down, Pippin. Who?"
"Lord Denethor. He's taken the Lord Faramir down there. Says he's dead and needs to be burned since they can't bury him."
"Are you sure?" he asked, even as they ran down the hall.
Pippin's head nodded furiously, "I was there when they brought him in. Lord Denethor tried to cure him himself but whatever it was proved to be to strong. He wouldn't let anyone summon Aragorn, didn't believe that a 'dirty ranger' would be of any help."
"How was he injured?"
"One of the Nazguls got him while he tried to buy time for Frodo and Sam to escape," he panted. "A few days ago. What do I do?"
"You've done all you can. The rest is in the Valinor's hands." Gandalf's reply was grim, "go to the House of Healing and make sure someone's there with Athelas. They must use that if they are to heal him. I shall see to Denethor."
Somehow, Pippin was relieved to leave the situation in Gandalf's hands. He had become fond of the Gondorian Lord. The man had given him a chance and it hurt to see him act this way. The room was ready when Faramir was brought in, a tired Aragorn behind him.
/-/-/-/
Frodo, Sam, and Gollum struggled up them slope of Mount Doom. For a while, they had been pursued by the Nazgul but they had suddenly stopped their attack and changed direction. The trio were to relieved to question and, though Sam was wary of their guide, the journey was quiet.
"It knows what we plan to do, Sam," Frodo's voice was soft.
"I'm here for you, Master Frodo. Keep your eyes on the goal," Sam panted but kept positive. "We'll make it."
"Oh, Sam," he said no more as they pressed forward. Stumbling a bit the higher they went, he was relieved to feel the familiar arm of his friend urge him on.
"A few more steps and we'll be there," he encouraged. "Lean on me, I've got you safe and secure, Master Frodo."
Gollum followed, knowing that timing was everything. "Precious," he cooed softly, not wanting the fat one to hear him. That one was nasty and suspicious, he was. Never left him alone with his precious. Always watching and waiting.
As they made their way up, Aragorn was leading a company towards the Black Gates. It was hoped that they would prove to be a distraction to keep Sauron's eye on them. Idis rode Eowyn's place and they conversed quietly. The other shield maidens were dispersed among the men, never allowing the darkness to affect them. It stiffened the spines of the men who were unwilling to let the women show them up.
"Lord Aragorn, we would have been happy to stay behind and defend Gondor," Idis commented. "Why did you ask us to accompany you?"
"It seems Sauron was not as blind to your worth as we," he sheepishly replied. "His Nazgul are impervious to living men, but not so to women."
"So, it is up to us to destroy them?" she asked. "You have earned my admiration."
"And you mine, Queen Idis."
After the battle, back in Gondor, there was a large celebration. It was tradition and a sign that the dark times were truly over. Still filled with trepidation, Aragorn accepted the crown and all it entailed. There were speeches and presentations of the heroes of the war. Songs were sung and a large feast was held but it was the final day of the week long ceremony which Aragorn dreaded.
It would be his first official speech as king, the one most would remember him by.
"Lady, what am I to say?"
Eowyn rested against the headboard, "what's in your heart."
"But what if nothing comes?"
"Something will, majesty. Stop fearing it," she chuckled.
He stopped pacing, glaring. "You would not be so calm if you were in my shoes."
"I highly doubt that," she ironically said. "Then again, we don't wear the same size, I'd probably trip and fall."
Aragorn laughed, "how can you joke?"
"Easy. I open my mouth and the words just come," she smiled. "What's really wrong?"
He sat down, looking at her. "I loved once and lost her. There is someone else who fills my heart, yet she would refuse me. I am not prepared to run a kingdom, yet I must because it is my destiny. It's in my blood, what could possibly be wrong?"
"Aragorn, what we have is truly a wonderful thing. But is it love? I believe that it is one kind of love, that of friends of the soul. Could it become more? We shall see. Ask no more of me, nor yourself now. I believe that you have some lose ends to tie up."
With that, he had to be satisfied.
The day came. Gandalf announced him and he rose unsteadily to his feet. Every eye turned to him in silence and he cleared his throat. Mind blank, he cast about desperately for something to say. A song came to mind and he allowed it to come forth, filling him with calm.
Gray eyes darted about the room, lighting upon each face in turn and words flowed from his lips, each one sincere. "There are many things I could say but two come to mind with the most certainty-thank you. These words are not just for the warriors who fought on the battlefields. Each of us had a part in this war. Bearing a ring to destruction.
"Tending to the wounded. Keeping the fields fertile and filled with food. Caring for the sickened souls. Holding aloft the light of hope. Standing firm when all around was decaying and filled with death. Everyone served a valuable part in this war. I boldly state that we would not have won if it was not for all of these things. From the depths of my soul, I thank you and promise to try my best to live up to my duties as king."
"Hear, hear!" King Eowyn called into the silence and limped forward. Awkwardly, she dropped to her knees, "I pledge my eternal loyalty to you as High King. If ever you need the aid of Rohan, it is yours."
One by one, the nobles did the same. He went to each one and helped them to their feet, accepting their oaths. Last of all, he helped Eowyn rise to her feet, "only as High King?"
Her smile slowly came, "and as your friend."
"Nothing more?" he asked, somewhat hopefully.
"It is to soon for more, your majesty, as well you know."
"I had to try," he let her go with a smile.
The End.
Author's Note: I always believed that Aragorn loved Eowyn more than she did him, thus it is written that way. He never pitied her, unlike Faramir-it says so in the book. Nor did she enter the battlefield because of him, she's not fragile. She survived the hell that Wormtongue brought into her life. She is a strong, capable woman who knew where her duty and loyalty lay. If she couldn't fight with the one who saw her potential, she would fight with her people.
As Tolkien had originally wanted Aragorn to be with Eowyn but changed his mind, I decided to leave this open-ended and let the readers decide what happened to them in the end. If this bothers some people, remember that this is my opinion and let me have the freedom to have it without flaming me.
Part 12
Gandalf stopped Pippin from using the palantir but know that the young hobbit would be in danger from it. Leaving it in Aragorn's care, he took the hobbit with him and immediately departed for Gondor. "The danger is even greater now," he explained.
Eowyn, Eomer, Aragorn, and Narvanata watched them go before turning around. "What now, your majesty?"
Aragorn was puzzled by the fact that it was directed towards Eowyn. She, on the other hand, seemed to find nothing wrong with it. Or surprising about it. "We split up the army into several small divisions. Dernhelm shall be in charge of homeland security. Where is he anyway?"
"I sent him to retrieve Theoden's sword, majesty. It is now yours, right?" There was a faint question in his voice, one that her slow nod answered.
"Thank you, Eomer. The other two should be made ready to travel to Gondor. I hesitate to suggest a course of action for Lord Aragorn as I am sure he has his own path to travel to Gondor. Our men are at you disposal. The best idea is to try to surround the enemy and fill in any blank areas inside the city itself. I believe you did say that its defenses are sadly lacking?"
"Very much so," Narvanata agreed.
"Then, I trust you to chose those who can get inside and support the walls. Dernhelm?" she questioned.
The knight knelt before her, extending the naked weapon in his hands. "King Eowyn, we return this symbol of your kingship to you. May it guard and guide you as it has all those who have used it before you."
She accepted it with a nod, "thank you, Dernhelm. Rest yourself and your men for a bit, we shall be on the move again soon. Narvanata, take a small scouting party, find out the road conditions and the quickest and safest route to Gondor. Eomer, check the weapons supply. If we have enough, check their condition. If what we have is troublesome and can't be repaired, take a party of scavengers. I shall go among the people and separate them into parties. Lord Aragorn, if you would accompany me?"
They sprang into action and Eowyn set off, sword in hand. "I must remember to get a sheath for this. Lord Aragorn, what troubles you now?" There was the slightest sound of exasperation in her voice.
"Dernhelm called you King Eowyn," he said. "Your brother yielded the sword to you."
"He did. Uncle Theoden disowned him before his death. As heir, I am the rightful possessor of the sword." Her iron voice was firm.
"But King?"
"What of it? To my people, when the female inherits, she becomes King. It has always been thus since the first princess to inherit. King Kristina's father declared her to be his heir and said that she would be raised as a prince would. Since that day, all girls born in the royal house are raised as princes," she elaborated.
"What of heirs?"
"It is up to the ruler in question. Some chose an heir among the many cousins that are born. They are raised by the ruler to take over one day. Others chose to marry and have children. As for myself, I shall never marry and plan to reinstate Eomer as heir."
Aragorn walked silently by her side, "to never marry seems a lonely lot, majesty."
"That is your opinion, Lord Aragorn, not my own. I shall not marry where I do not love, nor am loved in return. Which of these would you chose for your own party?" she ended their conversation.
"If its all the same to you, Elrohir brought word that the Rangers are riding to me. I shall travel with them, Legolas, and Gimli along the Parth Galen."
Eowyn gasped, stopping to face him. "The Paths of the Dead, lord? Are you sure that is wise? For I would not wish that something so noble be set upon a path that can only lead to destruction."
"They will give us the aid necessary if I call. You know who I am, I can and will enforce their oath."
"Would that I were a stronger person, I would keep these words locked inside. Do not go, my lord, I fear for your soul. Those that go down that benighted road, never return. I do not desire that something that is high and excellent cast away needlessly."
"Lady, I did not mean to distress you," he caught and squeezed her hand. "I take your words, not those of a coward, but those of a friend. Let your mind be at ease, I know that what I am to do is right." For he felt it was true. There was in her a reflection of himself. She was afraid, like he was. But unlike him, she had the courage to face it. In her eyes, he saw the king he was meant to be. He vowed to be worthy of her friendship.
And may be, someday, her love. If that was never to be, he would be content with her friendship.
Something passed between them, "then let it be as you wish. I shall say no more." They walked off in silence. Eowyn nodded firmly after a while, "I must see to my men."
"Lady?"
"Yes?"
"If I live through this, I shall come for you and we shall ride together." He left to join the arriving rangers.
"You shall make it, of that I have no doubt," she murmured.
The next morning, Aragorn and his riders rode away. He took one last glance behind and saw Eowyn watching him. Turning back, only those who knew him could see the pain he carried with him. Friend or a love dearer to him than he expected after Arwen, he cared only that he see her alive and well.
For he knew that her path as king would take her to Gondor. King Eowyn would lead them into battle. And he feared what might come from her battle against the King of Angmar.
/-/-/-/
Outside Gondor:
King Eowyn rode at the head of the Rohirrim army. To her right, Eomer sat, and on her left, Narvanata. "Join your queen in battle, Narvanata. We must be a cohesive unit, so I shall have the men stay out of your way."
With a nod, the Shield Maid rode away.
"Eomer, any word of aid?"
"The sky is clear," he replied.
She was silent for a moment, "I hate to be precipitate but we cannot allow the walls to fall any farther. Take your men and lead them well," she decided.
"See you on the inside!" he saluted and left. Once he was in position, he gave the signal to wait until Idis and Eowyn gave the joint signal. Three armies charged into the fighting arena, driving the forces from the walls. In the front lines, urging the enemies on, was the King of Angmar.
Merry leaned over, pointing him out. "Our moment, my king, is at hand." He returned to his position, clutching his elven knife tightly in his hand.
"Then we shall ride to meet it, Sir Merriadoc," she replied grimly. Turning Brego, she forced him to approach the dark shape surrounded by rotting, stinking beings.
As they drew nearer, the malevolent being turned and watched them. Brego tried to turn away but Eowyn held her firmly in place. "Insolent warrior. Know ye not who I am?"
She coolly stared at him, no answer but to tighten her grip on her blade. Around them, the sounds of the battle seemed to slow and quiet down. There was only the three of them, silently dueling it out.
A cold laugh passed dead lips, "foolishness. No living man may harm the King of Angmar."
"how brave your words for one who will fall by the blade of Rohan's king."
He grunted in surprise at the strength of the blows. "The brave words are your. Why waste your life in such futility? Sauron may have a place for one such as you."
Flinging aside her helmet, she proudly proclaimed. "I am Eowyn, Shield Maiden and King of the Rohirrim. I willingly bow to no one."
Incensed, he brought down his sword with a mighty blow that knocked Merry and Eowyn off Brego. She rose unsteadily to her feet and drove her blade deep into the thick skin of the Nazgul lord's mount, evening the playing field once again. Swords clashed, sending off sparks of light and heat. She grunted as he bent her back and towards the ground, gaining the upper hand when she stumbled. Merry darted out and struck him in the shin, moving back when he turned to search for him.
The warrior rolled over and lashed out with her whip, causing him to stumble and turn back to her. Their blades locked ferociously against each other. Dancing around each other, they were unaware of the battle stopping around them as the forces watched. Of to the side, Merry waited and rushed out when Eowyn went down with a cry as her arm landed with a sickening crack on the ground.
Driving his blade in deep, he heard the satisfying shriek of pain and rage come from the dark creature. Taking another chance, he slashed its other leg. The Nazgul turned and flung him back. Pale and shaky, Eowyn rose and blocked his blade, forcing it to turn with hers. With the last of her strength, she used the blade to severe the head from the neck and shoulders.
Merry rushed to her side as the armies of darkness began to flee, "majesty?"
Eowyn looked at him, smiling faintly. "Take this to my broir. Tell Eomer that the kingdom is his." Whisper soft voice, her eyes closed and her breathing slowly faded.
The young squire cried out, pulling her into a tighter embrace. Golden hair spilled down her back and mingled in the dirt and blood on the ground. Blood pooled from the open wound on her arm and traced grotesque patterns on the exposed white skin. Tears coursed down Merry's checks, cutting through the grime and leaving ghostly behind.
Eomer and Aragorn pushed their way through the carnage. Legolas and Gimli covering their backs while Elladan and Elrohir tried to make sense of what they were babbling about. Elladan immediately reached for his supply of Athelas. In Aragorn's hands, they would heal the dying ruler. Aragorn didn't even hesitate, kneeling beside her to administer to the wounds. Already the hand of death was staking its claim. But none of the men there would give it victory.
"Eomer, led the charge. Push them back, I need more time," Aragorn ordered through tense lips.
Elladan allowed him no chance to object. Taking his arm in a strong grip, he led him into the press of fighting men. Fury at the situation fueled his natural strength and he pushed through the enemy.
Hours later, she rested peacefully in the House of Healing. Pale but no longer a deadly white, her arm bound tightly to her chest to prevent her from re-breaking it. Her leg was tightly bound as well, luckily both breaks had been clean. A thin scar crossed the side of her face. It would fade in time, but would mar her features. Too others, it was a mark of shame. But to her and her people, a badge of courage.
Aragorn sat by the bed, counting her inhalations and exhalations. Three days had passed since the battle and she had only awakened once. He buried his head in his hands, sighing deeply. All his own efforts had been for naught, another voice had called her back. Why was he so upset about that? Should he not be thankful that she was back among the living?
Boromir found Aragorn still there when he made his rounds an hour before dawn. "You will make yourself ill with waiting, my king."
Aragorn sighed, "she did not come when I called."
"Why does this trouble you?" he asked, forcing him to his feet.
"I don't know," he shrugged. "May be I felt that her love for me would bring her back. I thought that we were friends."
"Aragorn, I know her better than you. She is your friend."
"Then why did she not come?"
"Why should she? She knew of your strength and nobility, she knew you would survive the path you had chosen. There was no doubt in her mind for the darkness to work with, no fear for it to feast upon. Since he could not torment her with visions of you fallen and trapped, why would she follow you? She stayed because she believed her brother was there, his fate was in question for her."
By this point, the Steward's son and his king were at the rooms Denethor had reluctantly given to him. From the thoughtful look on Aragorn's face, he knew that he was processing the words. "Rest, my lord, tomorrow we will see my father."
Gandalf waited in the shadows, "how is he?" The question came when both men were alone in the hall.
"Which?" he asked rhetorically, knowing that Istari knew he'd been with his father all day, arguing about Aragorn. "My father is mad. And our only hope is confused by his perceived failure. I fear the only one who can alleviate that fear still lies abed, deeply asleep."
"What think you of Aragorn and Eowyn?"
"I think it is too soon for either of them make any such commitments. Aragorn, though he may deny it, is a romantic. He senses their similarities and wishes to make her a part of his life. The problem is, he met her after letting go Arwen. There is a confusion about him, the fact that he is drawn inexplicably to this mortal woman. I fear for him. Eowyn is a practical woman, she examines everything carefully. Knowing her, she may feel that their deeper emotions are only be battle love."
"Not one to wear her heart on her sleeve, is she?" The Istari mused, "I wish the same could be said of Aragorn. I have heard much speculation about them."
"Yes, he sees much of himself in her," Boromir yawned. "She won't let him sway her. The belief in herself is awe inspiring, Aragorn is trying to emulate her."
"He is, which isn't a bad thing."
"But he may become dependent on her," Boromir worried.
"Ah, now who is making snap judgments. Aragorn has more strength than he knows and it is emerging." Gandalf smiled, "I shall find Pippin. You should rest."
"My father is quite taken with him," he mentioned tiredly.
"Yes. I had hoped that he would regain his humanity through association with him. Alas, that is not to be," he murmured quietly.
"Where is Faramir? I thought he arrived with that party."
"This I do not yet know, but I did see him." He replied, a slight frown marring his face. "I shall endeavor to find out."
They parted then and Gandalf made his way to the chamber rooms Denethor had taken refuge in. The state of the man frightened Gandalf, though logically he knew he should be beyond such emotions.
Pippin raced towards him, "Gandalf! I tried to stop him but he...he...took him down there, with a torch, claiming he was dead."
"Slow down, Pippin. Who?"
"Lord Denethor. He's taken the Lord Faramir down there. Says he's dead and needs to be burned since they can't bury him."
"Are you sure?" he asked, even as they ran down the hall.
Pippin's head nodded furiously, "I was there when they brought him in. Lord Denethor tried to cure him himself but whatever it was proved to be to strong. He wouldn't let anyone summon Aragorn, didn't believe that a 'dirty ranger' would be of any help."
"How was he injured?"
"One of the Nazguls got him while he tried to buy time for Frodo and Sam to escape," he panted. "A few days ago. What do I do?"
"You've done all you can. The rest is in the Valinor's hands." Gandalf's reply was grim, "go to the House of Healing and make sure someone's there with Athelas. They must use that if they are to heal him. I shall see to Denethor."
Somehow, Pippin was relieved to leave the situation in Gandalf's hands. He had become fond of the Gondorian Lord. The man had given him a chance and it hurt to see him act this way. The room was ready when Faramir was brought in, a tired Aragorn behind him.
/-/-/-/
Frodo, Sam, and Gollum struggled up them slope of Mount Doom. For a while, they had been pursued by the Nazgul but they had suddenly stopped their attack and changed direction. The trio were to relieved to question and, though Sam was wary of their guide, the journey was quiet.
"It knows what we plan to do, Sam," Frodo's voice was soft.
"I'm here for you, Master Frodo. Keep your eyes on the goal," Sam panted but kept positive. "We'll make it."
"Oh, Sam," he said no more as they pressed forward. Stumbling a bit the higher they went, he was relieved to feel the familiar arm of his friend urge him on.
"A few more steps and we'll be there," he encouraged. "Lean on me, I've got you safe and secure, Master Frodo."
Gollum followed, knowing that timing was everything. "Precious," he cooed softly, not wanting the fat one to hear him. That one was nasty and suspicious, he was. Never left him alone with his precious. Always watching and waiting.
As they made their way up, Aragorn was leading a company towards the Black Gates. It was hoped that they would prove to be a distraction to keep Sauron's eye on them. Idis rode Eowyn's place and they conversed quietly. The other shield maidens were dispersed among the men, never allowing the darkness to affect them. It stiffened the spines of the men who were unwilling to let the women show them up.
"Lord Aragorn, we would have been happy to stay behind and defend Gondor," Idis commented. "Why did you ask us to accompany you?"
"It seems Sauron was not as blind to your worth as we," he sheepishly replied. "His Nazgul are impervious to living men, but not so to women."
"So, it is up to us to destroy them?" she asked. "You have earned my admiration."
"And you mine, Queen Idis."
After the battle, back in Gondor, there was a large celebration. It was tradition and a sign that the dark times were truly over. Still filled with trepidation, Aragorn accepted the crown and all it entailed. There were speeches and presentations of the heroes of the war. Songs were sung and a large feast was held but it was the final day of the week long ceremony which Aragorn dreaded.
It would be his first official speech as king, the one most would remember him by.
"Lady, what am I to say?"
Eowyn rested against the headboard, "what's in your heart."
"But what if nothing comes?"
"Something will, majesty. Stop fearing it," she chuckled.
He stopped pacing, glaring. "You would not be so calm if you were in my shoes."
"I highly doubt that," she ironically said. "Then again, we don't wear the same size, I'd probably trip and fall."
Aragorn laughed, "how can you joke?"
"Easy. I open my mouth and the words just come," she smiled. "What's really wrong?"
He sat down, looking at her. "I loved once and lost her. There is someone else who fills my heart, yet she would refuse me. I am not prepared to run a kingdom, yet I must because it is my destiny. It's in my blood, what could possibly be wrong?"
"Aragorn, what we have is truly a wonderful thing. But is it love? I believe that it is one kind of love, that of friends of the soul. Could it become more? We shall see. Ask no more of me, nor yourself now. I believe that you have some lose ends to tie up."
With that, he had to be satisfied.
The day came. Gandalf announced him and he rose unsteadily to his feet. Every eye turned to him in silence and he cleared his throat. Mind blank, he cast about desperately for something to say. A song came to mind and he allowed it to come forth, filling him with calm.
Gray eyes darted about the room, lighting upon each face in turn and words flowed from his lips, each one sincere. "There are many things I could say but two come to mind with the most certainty-thank you. These words are not just for the warriors who fought on the battlefields. Each of us had a part in this war. Bearing a ring to destruction.
"Tending to the wounded. Keeping the fields fertile and filled with food. Caring for the sickened souls. Holding aloft the light of hope. Standing firm when all around was decaying and filled with death. Everyone served a valuable part in this war. I boldly state that we would not have won if it was not for all of these things. From the depths of my soul, I thank you and promise to try my best to live up to my duties as king."
"Hear, hear!" King Eowyn called into the silence and limped forward. Awkwardly, she dropped to her knees, "I pledge my eternal loyalty to you as High King. If ever you need the aid of Rohan, it is yours."
One by one, the nobles did the same. He went to each one and helped them to their feet, accepting their oaths. Last of all, he helped Eowyn rise to her feet, "only as High King?"
Her smile slowly came, "and as your friend."
"Nothing more?" he asked, somewhat hopefully.
"It is to soon for more, your majesty, as well you know."
"I had to try," he let her go with a smile.
The End.
Author's Note: I always believed that Aragorn loved Eowyn more than she did him, thus it is written that way. He never pitied her, unlike Faramir-it says so in the book. Nor did she enter the battlefield because of him, she's not fragile. She survived the hell that Wormtongue brought into her life. She is a strong, capable woman who knew where her duty and loyalty lay. If she couldn't fight with the one who saw her potential, she would fight with her people.
As Tolkien had originally wanted Aragorn to be with Eowyn but changed his mind, I decided to leave this open-ended and let the readers decide what happened to them in the end. If this bothers some people, remember that this is my opinion and let me have the freedom to have it without flaming me.
