Chapter 41: Beyond Dark Horizons

Summer in Gondor was hotter than Toven had expected.

He could already feel sweat gathering on the back of his neck as he walked down to the first circle of Minas Tirith, his pack slung over his shoulder. Heat shimmered in the air above the fields outside the city, which blushed green with budding crops. Under Aragorn and Boromir's guidance, the land and its people had finally begun to heal, and Toven was grateful he was able to bear witness to that.

The open space just beyond the city gates was bustling with activity. Most of the people gathered there were Rohirrim, saddling up horses and making last-minute preparations for their departure. In the center of the group was a wagon carrying a casket wrapped in a golden shroud.

Toven made his way towards the smaller group standing off to the side—the reunited Fellowship. They would be accompanying the Rohirrim west before turning north and escorting the hobbits back to the Shire.

"Hey!" Quinn waved to him as he approached. "I was wondering when you were going to show up."

"Sorry." He fastened his pack to the saddle of one of the horses. "I overslept."

"If you are simply reluctant to leave the city, there is no need to hide it," Boromir said, coming up behind him and slinging an arm over his shoulders. "We would do well to have another Ranger in our company."

"Don't worry," Toven said with a slight smile. "I'll be back before you know it."

He was only going to accompany the others partway through their journey. When they reached the Snowbourne, he would be turning west to Edoras with the Rohirrim. He felt somewhat out of place, offering his support as the people grieved their king, but he wanted to be there for Éowyn.

"Until your return, Toven." Boromir released him and took his hand in a firm grasp. "I am glad to have met you."

"And I am glad you were stubborn enough to follow me across the plains of Rohan, despite my attempts to get you to leave," he said. "Gondor is in good hands, thanks to you."

"I cannot take credit for that alone," Boromir said as Aragorn approached them. The two of them would be staying behind, along with Faramir, to manage the affairs of the kingdom.

"It is as Boromir says," Aragorn said, and the steward turned aside to give them a moment of privacy. "This victory belongs to all of us."

Toven smirked. "Ever since that crown landed on your head, you've spoken almost exclusively in inspirational phrases and elegant proverbs."

"And they have proven effective, more often than not," he replied, quirking an eyebrow. "I hope you will continue the legacy of the rugged Ranger I used to be."

A small lump rose in his throat. It was mostly a joke, but Toven recognized the meaning behind his words. Even if Aragorn was king now, he had not forgotten the kinship between them.

"I will. You're still my captain, and you always have been."

They shared a tight embrace, and Aragorn turned to say farewell to the others.

Toven spotted Éowyn's blonde hair among the Rohirrim and made his way towards her. Her brow was tense, but she still smiled when she caught sight of him.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked when he approached. "I do not want to rob you of the chance to say goodbye to your friends."

He glanced towards the hobbits, who were mounting a set of ponies. "Quinn and the others will get them safely back to the Shire. And I'll always be able to visit afterwards." He took both of her hands in his. "I just want to be there for you, if you'll still have me."

Gratitude melted over her gaze. "It would be a great comfort to me, Toven."

"Good." He looked up as another man approached them. "I was wondering if you were going to see us off."

"You must forgive me," Faramir said. "There was something I had to see to." He turned to Éowyn. "And were it not for the matter of securing our eastern border, I would gladly join the two of you."

"I would not part Gondor from its most valiant captain." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. "But I will return when I am able."

"I look forward to it, my lady." He pulled back and held her gaze for a moment, his eyes soft, then turned to Toven. "I will be awaiting your safe return as well."

"You speak as if you have something to worry about."

Faramir shrugged. "You seem to have a tendency to find danger where there should be none."

"Indeed," Éowyn added, unable to hide her smile, "it is fortunate you are traveling with a company of experienced riders."

"All right." Toven rolled his eyes. "If, by some chance, we come across any danger, I'll just hide behind you."

The three of them laughed at that, and Faramir pulled him in for one final embrace.

"Look after her," he whispered before letting go.

Their eyes met, and Toven gave a small nod.

Soon, the three of us will be together again.

And there was the feeling he was still getting used to—the anticipation of something that wasn't danger or doom. For the first time in a long while, he had something bright and safe in his future to look forward to.

It made parting from his friends easier. There were no more broken, jagged edges of uncertainty. Now, and hopefully for many years to come, there was the promise of a home waiting for him after a long journey.

The Rohirrim were solemn and quiet during their journey east. It made sense—after all, this was an extended funeral procession for them. But Quinn still managed to find lighthearted moments among her friends. She teased Legolas and traded barbs with Gandalf and joked with the hobbits, and the sun shone bright and hot above them.

Toven spent part of his time with them, and the other half riding with Éowyn. She tried not to tease him about it too much, but she couldn't stop herself from grinning whenever she saw them together. It was a relief to know he was able to be vulnerable with someone else enough to form a relationship. And it was just a bonus that Éowyn was a certified badass on top of being a genuinely nice person.

Quinn had asked her at the feast about how she'd killed the Nazgûl, but it didn't seem like Éowyn fully understood it herself.

"It was done in desperation," she'd said softly, her gaze far-off. "I raised my sword and thrust it beneath the creature's helm, and in the next moment it seemed to shrink away beneath its mantle, as if there had been nothing there at all."

"With just a regular steel sword, huh?" Quinn had crossed her arms. "Well, color me impressed. I don't know how you did the impossible, but you saved a lot of lives in the process."

"And I would save more in the coming days. I want to learn the skills of a healer. This, I think, would serve my people more than the sword."

"That sounds like a good plan."

Éowyn had smiled and inclined her head. "I am glad to have your approval."

"Ah, you don't need it. I'm not really one to do the crazy-mother-in-law routine."

That had brought a blush to Éowyn's face. "I did not mean to imply…"

"I got you." She'd winked. "I think you two will do just fine."

About a week after they left Minas Tirith, the bulk of Edoras rose on the horizon. Inviting columns of smoke curled into the sky as they drew nearer, and a crowd of people began to stream out of the gates to receive them. Most of the riders made for the city directly, but a few stayed behind to say farewell.

Éowyn dismounted to hug the hobbits goodbye, and Quinn nudged her horse up next to Toven's.

"You gonna be okay here?" she asked.

Toven nodded. "I have a feeling I'm going to be seeing more of these folk. It's probably best I start getting along with them."

She smiled. "That's the spirit."

He glanced at the riders approaching Edoras, then turned back to her. "I've spent the weeks since the battle discussing with everyone what comes next now that we've won the war, but I don't think I've heard an answer from you."

"Oh." Quinn shifted in the saddle. "What, do you think I plan farther ahead than the next five minutes?"

"Maybe you should try it."

Her conversation with Belekur lingered at the back of her mind. If she chose to help them, that would mean putting an expiration date back on her life in Middle-earth. But staying here for the rest of eternity like an elf…could she really handle something like that?

"We'll talk once I get back," she said, knowing Toven had picked up on the uncertainty on her face. "I have to think some things over first."

"You have plenty of friends to offer you counsel when you need it."

"I know. I'll see you in a few months, T." She reached out to clasp his hand. "Take care of yourself."

"You as well." He made a brief round of goodbyes to the others, then joined Éowyn as they rode towards the city.

"This is where we must part ways, too," Legolas announced, causing everyone to turn to him.

"What, you're too cool for us now?" Quinn asked.

"Gimli has persuaded me to go see the Glittering Caves of the White Mountains," Legolas said, indicating the dwarf sitting behind him.

"And in return, I've agreed to walk beneath the boughs of Fangorn Forest," Gimli said. They both spoke as if they were having to fulfill some unpleasant debt, though neither of them looked unhappy about the arrangement.

"Well, I'm glad you two are finally being friendly with one another," Pippin said.

Beside him, Merry arched an eyebrow. "And you're just now noticing, Pip?"

Quinn snickered, though she couldn't exactly claim to be any more observant. She probably wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't literally walked in on them. "Have fun on your honeymoon, then!"

Legolas flipped her off with a smile, and Quinn waved goodbye as they rode off towards the mountains.

She looked around at her remaining companions: four hobbits and a wizard. "And then there were five."

"That's six, including you," Sam said. "Unless you've somewhere to ride off to as well."

"No, I'm just bad at counting. I'll be sticking with you all until we reach the Shire." They nudged their mounts onwards. "Never thought I'd be seeing the other side of the Misty Mountains again, so I might as well make the trip."

Her thoughts drifted to Rivendell, and the autumn leaves that had swept its halls the last time she'd been there. It would be strange, returning to a place she'd said goodbye to.

A sudden weariness overcame her. It looked like she'd be doing a lot of that in the coming weeks.

The Rohirrim buried their dead outside the walls of Edoras, beneath mounds of earth dotted with white flowers. It seemed fitting for them, that their king and the rest of his kin would be laid to rest among the rolling grasses and the wind's breath.

Éowyn sang during the burial, a Rohirric song that carried over the plains even when her voice faltered. Toven gave her space to grieve with her own people, not wanting to overstep. Afterwards was the coronation, and though the ceremony was solemn at first, Éomer gave a rousing speech about Rohan's future that lifted everyone's spirits.

The mood maintained itself during the subsequent feast, when drink was brought out and everyone had a chance to celebrate the victory they had won against all odds. Partway through the feast, Éowyn found him. He sat beside her and held her hand beneath the table, doing his best to instill what comfort he could through the touch.

He wished he could hold her, but he was all too aware of the watching eyes around them and the fact that he was an outsider among these people. No matter what he felt for Éowyn, and she for him, it didn't change the fact of her status, and his.

His anxiety only increased that night, when a knock resounded from the door of the room he'd been given. Toven paused with his fingers on his bootlaces and straightened with a sigh. The strike on his door had been too heavy to have come from Éowyn. He didn't know what anyone else would want with him at this time of night, and guessing only made the knot in his stomach grow tighter.

Toven rose from the edge of the bed and opened the door. On the other side was a man with a ruddy face and broad shoulders—a lieutenant or something similar that had often been at Éomer's side during their march to the Black Gate.

"The king requests your presence."

"All right." Toven swallowed and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. The man began walking without another word, and Toven followed him.

He and Éomer had barely spoken to each other since that day in the Houses of Healing, and Éomer's harsh words still stung in his memory. He doubted seriously the king was summoning him for a friendly chat.

Wordlessly, the man showed him through a sturdy door carved with ornate designs. Toven stepped into a modest study, illuminated by a roaring fire despite the summer heat. Éomer was sitting in a chair by the fireplace, still dressed in his ceremonial attire from the coronation. He gestured for Toven to take the seat across from him.

Steeling himself, Toven sat down, and the door swung shut behind him. Éomer poured from a bottle of liquor into two small cups and handed one to him. Toven didn't think so low of Éomer to suspect that it was poisoned, but he didn't drink, just held the cup as he leaned an elbow on the armrest of the chair.

Éomer had a small frown on his face, though he seemed to be trying to smooth it out. "I hope your accommodations have been to your liking."

Toven looked him in the eyes, and some of his apprehension faded. Despite his tall stature and renown in battle, Éomer was young, most likely not yet thirty. As quickly as children of men matured, he was still too young to have the burden of the crown. Perhaps he felt just as unprepared for this conversation as Toven did.

"I would ask only one thing from you."

A fraction of Éomer's frown returned. "And what is that?"

"Speak plainly to me. I grew up around dwarves and never found a use for preambles or niceties. Say whatever it is you want to say."

Éomer nodded, and seemed to relax a little. "All right, then. What are your intentions with Éowyn?"

Toven had expected a question along those lines, but it did nothing to ease the knot that reappeared in his stomach. "I enjoy her company. I want her to be happy."

His gaze drifted to the fire. "I wish for her happiness, also. She is the only family I have left. And I nearly lost her, too."

So Éomer still blamed him for Éowyn's injuries during the battle. Toven watched him, the tips of his fingers pressing hard against the surface of the cup.

"I know better than to think I can dissuade Éowyn when her heart is set on something," Éomer continued. A hint of a fond smile flashed on his lips. "She is stubborn and free-spirited, and I admire her for it. But she does not always act in her best interest."

"This sounds like a conversation you should be having with your sister. What has this got to do with me?"

Éomer lifted his eyes to Toven's face, his gaze hardening. "I will speak plainly, then. Éowyn is now a princess, and she will be expected to marry someone of an appropriate status and bear children. You cannot give her that. And neither can Faramir."

His breathing stilled, but Toven maintained eye contact with the other man.

"I have seen the joy on her face when she is with you," Éomer continued in a softer tone. "And I would spare her the heartbreak of having to give that up when duty demands it."

Duty. For Toven, the word only invoked brittle, archaic rules that seemed to place nothing more than obstacles in the path to happiness. Duty was a cage that would cause Éowyn to wither.

He took a slow breath to calm himself. "I won't speak for her. I won't tell you what she wants, because only she can do that. But I would have her be free from these…these expectations you are placing on her. If you love someone, you have to let them choose their own path."

"I have told you before," Éomer said slowly, "you know nothing of the ways of my people. It is not me who is placing these expectations on her, but tradition itself."

"If only there were someone who could show your people a new way of thinking," Toven said, unable to keep the bite out of his tone. "A king, perhaps."

Éomer's expression darkened. "And who are you to tell me how to rule my kingdom?"

"I'm a Ranger," he shot back, "from a town that will never appear on a map, lowborn, uneducated, incapable of fathering children. If you are so certain that I do not belong in your world, then it is within your rights to send me away. Setting aside Éowyn's future, that is the crux of the issue, is it not? I am of little value to the royal family of Rohan."

The fire let out a loud crack, and one of the logs shifted with a dry grating noise. The light in the room shifted, and Éomer took a sip from his drink, the defensiveness leaving his shoulders.

He swallowed and said, "I have not forgotten that you fought with us in Helm's Deep. You are an honorable man, and I do not take that lightly. There is more to a man than the circumstances of his birth."

Toven took a measured breath to rein in his temper. He didn't want to argue with Éomer, and letting anger control his words would only worsen the situation between them.

He raised the cup to his lips. The liquor ran smooth over his tongue and seared the back of his throat. "I would have liked to be friends with you, rather than enemies. Despite the circumstances of your birth."

Éomer let out a bark of laughter, then turned his gaze back to the fire. "Yet this does not resolve the issue before us."

He set the cup aside and crossed his arms. "The way I see it, we have a few different options. I could vanish back into the forests, and one day Éowyn might marry a lord or baron and bear his children. You could set a series of impossible and almost certainly fatal trials for me to prove myself worthy of your sister. Perhaps you could ask me to change the course of the Snowbourne, or wrestle a pack of giant boars—"

"Are you jesting because you have no answer?" Éomer asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I haven't told you my most ludicrous suggestion yet. Perhaps you could ask Éowyn what she wants to do." Toven held the other man's gaze. "If you are going to deny her, then deny her. But don't do it through me."

Éomer stared at him for a long moment. "There are few who would speak to me so…bluntly. I see why Éowyn has taken a liking to you." He dropped his gaze to his drink. "I will not send you away. You are welcome to stay in Edoras as long as you like."

"And you'll speak to her."

"I am still learning how to be a king. But I have not forgotten my duties to my family." He was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze to look Toven in the eye. "I apologize for the way I spoke to you earlier. It was in poor taste."

Toven relaxed a little. "I apologize for speaking to you bluntly."

The corner of his lips lifted. "I have taken no offense. And I will not take any more of your time."

He recognized the dismissal for what it was and stood up. By the time he began to wonder if he should have bowed, he was already stepping out into the empty hallway. Letting out a shaky sigh, Toven made his way back towards his room. His conversation with Éomer had confirmed the fears he'd been harboring since returning to Edoras, but that hadn't been all. There was a chance too for forgiveness and reconciliation.

And perhaps, one day, they would be friends.

Toven gave up on trying to sleep and pushed himself out of bed. It must have been past midnight, and drowsiness weighed on his limbs, but something at the back of his head kept prodding him to remain alert. He dressed himself and made his way outside.

A gust of warm, dry air greeted him. The plains below Edoras were shrouded in dusky gray, the sliver of moon in the sky concealed by wispy clouds. The dark made him feel secure, inscrutable, and brought back his longing for the forests in the north. On a night like this, he might have climbed a tree and sat obscured in its branches, listening to the night birds and relaxing in the knowledge that he was not being watched.

There was no opportunity for that in a place like Rohan, with open fields below and an endless sky above and barely anything to keep them apart. Here, he walked with his hood down, and he knew the men saw him differently. Éomer had been civil to him in the days since their conversation, but that only did so much to put him at ease. Often, his thoughts strayed to Ithilien, and he wished he was back with Faramir and the others.

But there was a good reason he hadn't left yet, Toven reminded himself as he rounded the corner of the hall and realized he wasn't alone.

Éowyn had her back to him, and was dressed only in a white shift with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. He let his boots scuff against the stone so she would hear his approach, and she turned to him.

"Nightmares?" he asked, moving to stand beside her.

"I did not make it that far," Éowyn said, turning back to the shadowed landscape below. "Some nights it is difficult to even close my eyes."

"I know the feeling."

He hesitated, then placed an arm around her, and she leaned against him. They hadn't had many moments alone, and part of him still felt nervous touching her, as though he was breaking some unspoken rule. If Éomer had finally had that talk with Éowyn, she had not mentioned it to him.

"Toven," Éowyn began after a long stretch of silence. "You do not have to stay here."

"What?"

She turned so she could look him in the eye, a sad smile on her face. "I know you would be happier in Gondor, among friends. If you wish to go back, I would not begrudge you that."

"I came here for you. And I'll stay for as long as you need me." He smiled and half-jokingly added, "Unless this is your way of asking me to leave."

"No." She grasped his arm. "I am happy to have you with me. But I know you are not at ease here. You roam the city alone, you do not eat with the other men—"

"They don't see me as one of them," Toven said lowly. "And not just because I am a foreigner."

"I will speak to them."

"Please don't do that." He took a moment to gather his patience. Faramir would have already understood, but Éowyn was new to this. "You cannot force people to change their beliefs. If…If they are going to look upon me differently, there is nothing either of us can do to make that happen."

Her brow furrowed. "There must be something I can do to help you."

"It's enough to have your company." He gave her a small, reassuring smile. "I've lived this way for most of my life. I know how to take care of myself."

Éowyn took his face in her hands and drew him nearer. "I see you for who you are, Toven. And there are men in this city who have good hearts and open minds. I believe they will be able to change in time."

Her words were a striking echo to what he had said to Faramir during their first meeting, and Toven could hardly catch his breath as she leaned up and kissed him. Gratitude swelled in his heart as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This was more than enough to remind him why he was staying.

When they broke apart, Éowyn rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh. He held her, listening to her breaths even out, then nudged her.

"Hey, don't fall asleep on me."

She raised her head with a teasing smile. "But you make such a wonderful pillow."

He laughed softly. "Come on. I'll walk you back to your room."

They walked through the stone corridors, hand in hand. Toven wished they could do this even in daylight. One day he would work up the courage to try.

It wasn't long before they reached the door to Éowyn's chambers, the rich brown wood carved with intricate designs.

"Try and get some sleep," Toven said, releasing her hand, but she reached back and took hold of his wrist.

"Will you stay with me?"

Toven hesitated, familiar uncertainty welling up inside of him. He took a deep breath and tried to release his doubt. He wanted to. He'd thought about it more than once.

And for the moment, it was simple as that—just the open doorway and the cool night air and the places where their skin touched.

For tonight, for once, it could just be simple.

Toven let her lead him through the doorway, slipped off his boots while she draped her shawl over a chair, and climbed into bed. She slid under the covers beside him, tucking her hair out of the way, and rested her head on his shoulder.

He held her close, his chin against the crown of her head, and within minutes he was asleep.

It was not my intention to paint Eomer in a bad light this chapter. I think he wants the best for Eowyn, and he's a good guy, but he's also dealing with his grief and trauma in a way that's not entirely appropriate. But I didn't want the two of them to end the story on bad terms, so I was like…I'm not ending the scene until y'all make up lol

Just one more chapter to go, which will be the epilogue! See you guys then!