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Chapter Nine: The Corsairs
-----------------
Aragorn was worried, and wondered if he worried too much, or too little. He was riding through Tarlang's Neck: a pass between a nameless cluster of hills and the White Mountains, through which ran the road from Erech and Calembel on the River Ciril. The host of the Dead rode at their heels.
He thought of Éowyn's desperate face the morning before, and hoped against hope that she would do nothing rash. She wanted to show that the House of Eorl is valiant, and not just the men of that house. She would do anything.
The road brought them too far south for Aragorn's liking. He would have preferred to leave to road at the borders of Dor-en-Ernil, cross the Gilrain and the Serni where they were large and slow. From there it was a direct route to Pelargir, where lay Umbar's armada.
It was the reason why Aragorn had split away from Rohan's main force. He understood the need of Gondor and had seen the flotilla in the Palantír of Orthanc. It drew nigh on seven thousand men away from Minas Tirith - seven thousand who would be sorely missed. They wanted to defend their homes before the city.
But the Dead had taken care of the fleet. Most were sent mad by fear and many jumped overboard and drowned. More waded ashore and fled south. The slaves, who (being chained up) had been unable to escape, were freed. Aragorn then took command of the ships and rushed to the aid of Minas Tirith.
Sailing up the Anduin left one with time for thought. He thought of Arwen and their history together, and of his natural compatibility with Éowyn.
"You've come too far to leave Arwen now," said one part of his brain.
"But love does not require half a century, as you have wasted on plans with Arwen," said another. "Love may take a second. Éowyn is young, but Arwen has been around for almost three millennia."
"Think of Arwen's lineage," protested the first. "Your children will be of pure blood, for Elros was her uncle. Is Éowyn of such noble ancestry?"
"Yes!" exclaimed the second part. "She is the granddaughter of Morwen of Lossarnach, who was of close kin to Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth - therefore of high Númenórean blood."
"But that blood has been diluted by the lords of the Rohirrim. She will not live as long as you, Aragorn. She is but 26, and will see 75. You will be 137 when you are widowered. Your death will come not for seventy more years, at worst."
Then Halbarad spoke. He, of course, knew nothing of this inner argument. "What troubles you, old friend?" he asked. But Aragorn only sighed.
He was afraid to voice his dilemma, for the sons of Elrond stood by; Elladan and Elrohir were Arwen's older twin brothers. The ship swung round a meander in the river, entering the view of Minas Tirith's watchers.
As has been told, Aragorn met Éomer and together they reached Minas Tirith.
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Chapter Ten: The Houses of Healing
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Aragorn healed first Faramir, who had lain longest with wound and was near death. He then sadly entered Éowyn's chamber. He had feared that she would try to come to war, and yet was a hint proud of her, but it seemed to him that Arwen frowned at his pride.
"Here there is a grievous hurt and a heavy blow. The arm that was broken has been tended with due skill, and it will mend in time, if she has the strength to live. The shield-arm is maimed, but the chief evil comes from the sword-arm. It is not broken, but it is lifeless. She was pitted against a foe beyond her strength, and who will take a weapon to such an enemy much be sterner than steel, if the very shock of it does not destroy them."
Éomer, who was present, had a sudden, unbidden remembrance. It was of his childhood, when Théoden had told them of their grandparents. "My mother was Morwen, from Lossarnach - a part of Gondor that is near Mundburg. She was tall and slender, not to mention very beautiful. they called her Steel- sheen."
"It was an evil doom that set her in his path, for she is the fairest maiden of a house of queens. I know not how I should speak of her. When I first saw her at Edoras, I perceived her unhappiness. She appeared as a fair, bittersweet flower that is frozen by frost. Éomer, am I right in thinking this malady goes back before this day?"
"I hold you blameless lord," answered Éomer earnestly, "But I was unaware that Éowyn was touched by any frost until she first looked on you. Her fear and mine grew as Wormtongue's hold on the King strengthened, but that did not bring this to pass!"
Gandalf then spoke to Éomer, and his tone was soft: "My friend, you had horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields; but she, born in the body of a maid, had a spirit and courage at least the match of yours. Yet she was doomed to wait upon an old man, whom she loved as a father, and watch him fall into dotage, and her part seemed to her ignoble. For Wormtongue poisoned her mind, also, calling her away from her nobility. You heard the words of Saruman, the teacher of Wormtongue on the house of Eorl. It seemed to her that the walls closed in about her like a hutch."
And Éomer thought about it. Gandalf's words struck a chord with him, for he now saw his sister's life clearly, as she did. Then he glanced at Aragorn.
"I saw it also," said Aragorn. "Few griefs in the world match the bitterness in a man's heart on beholding the love of a woman, which he is not allowed to return. Sorrow and pity followed me from Dunharrow and my greatest fear was of what might befall her. Éomer, I love her, but I fear that she loves you more truly, for she knows you. I am but a passing shadow of glory and great deeds, far from the fields that she knows. If I can heal her of the malady you behold, but she awakens to despair then she will die. If she is hopeful, she will live. It is a matter of mind, not of body. The will to live will sustain her; it is her only chance of recovery. She has already won herself renown."
Aragorn bent down and looked into her face. Verily 'twas like a frosty lily, but he kissed her brow. "Éowyn Éomund's daughter, awake! Your enemy is gone." Though she stirred not, her breath now came deeply. Aragorn crushed a pair of athelas leaves, and the air tingled with purity. Aragorn looked contemplative for a moment, then a sort of painful resolve passed over his face. He took her hand and relaxed as warmth began to return to it.
"Awake, Éowyn, Lady of Rohan! Awake! The shadow is gone and all darkness is washed clean! Éomer, call her." Éomer stepped forwards, taking her hand, and Aragorn left the room.
"Éowyn, Éowyn!" he cried. She opened her eyes slowly.
"Éomer, what joy is this? Nay, 'twas a dream - I dreamt you were slain. How long have I been dreaming?" asked Éowyn.
"Not long," replied Éomer. "Lord Aragorn has healed you."
"I am very weary," she said. "But what of the Lord of the Mark? I dreamt also that he had fallen."
"He is dead and lies in great honour," sighed Éomer, "But bade me say farewell to Éowyn, dearer than daughter."
Éowyn also sighed. "That is grievous, for he was dearer than father to me. Yet it is good beyond my hope in the dark days, when it seemed that the house of Eorl was bereft of all honour. But what of the Halfling - the King's esquire? Éomer, you must make him a Knight, for he is valiant!"
"He lies nearby in sickness and I must go to him," said Gandalf. "I am greatly gladdened to see you well again, but speak not of war and woe! Not until you are truly well." For Gandalf remembered the final words of Aragorn, and saw the wisdom in them.
"To health?" said Éowyn. "Possibly, as long as I can fill a fallen Rider's saddle. But to hope: I know not."
As Aragorn joked with the new-healed Hobbit, Éowyn enquired of him. Éomer did not know how to respond to that question. Her tone was anxious, as though she anticipated some long-awaited answer. "He is well," replied Éomer at last. He forgot not Aragorn's words: 'I love her', but also 'love, which is not allowed be returned'. And he pondered these words.
Chapter Nine: The Corsairs
-----------------
Aragorn was worried, and wondered if he worried too much, or too little. He was riding through Tarlang's Neck: a pass between a nameless cluster of hills and the White Mountains, through which ran the road from Erech and Calembel on the River Ciril. The host of the Dead rode at their heels.
He thought of Éowyn's desperate face the morning before, and hoped against hope that she would do nothing rash. She wanted to show that the House of Eorl is valiant, and not just the men of that house. She would do anything.
The road brought them too far south for Aragorn's liking. He would have preferred to leave to road at the borders of Dor-en-Ernil, cross the Gilrain and the Serni where they were large and slow. From there it was a direct route to Pelargir, where lay Umbar's armada.
It was the reason why Aragorn had split away from Rohan's main force. He understood the need of Gondor and had seen the flotilla in the Palantír of Orthanc. It drew nigh on seven thousand men away from Minas Tirith - seven thousand who would be sorely missed. They wanted to defend their homes before the city.
But the Dead had taken care of the fleet. Most were sent mad by fear and many jumped overboard and drowned. More waded ashore and fled south. The slaves, who (being chained up) had been unable to escape, were freed. Aragorn then took command of the ships and rushed to the aid of Minas Tirith.
Sailing up the Anduin left one with time for thought. He thought of Arwen and their history together, and of his natural compatibility with Éowyn.
"You've come too far to leave Arwen now," said one part of his brain.
"But love does not require half a century, as you have wasted on plans with Arwen," said another. "Love may take a second. Éowyn is young, but Arwen has been around for almost three millennia."
"Think of Arwen's lineage," protested the first. "Your children will be of pure blood, for Elros was her uncle. Is Éowyn of such noble ancestry?"
"Yes!" exclaimed the second part. "She is the granddaughter of Morwen of Lossarnach, who was of close kin to Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth - therefore of high Númenórean blood."
"But that blood has been diluted by the lords of the Rohirrim. She will not live as long as you, Aragorn. She is but 26, and will see 75. You will be 137 when you are widowered. Your death will come not for seventy more years, at worst."
Then Halbarad spoke. He, of course, knew nothing of this inner argument. "What troubles you, old friend?" he asked. But Aragorn only sighed.
He was afraid to voice his dilemma, for the sons of Elrond stood by; Elladan and Elrohir were Arwen's older twin brothers. The ship swung round a meander in the river, entering the view of Minas Tirith's watchers.
As has been told, Aragorn met Éomer and together they reached Minas Tirith.
------------------
Chapter Ten: The Houses of Healing
------------------
Aragorn healed first Faramir, who had lain longest with wound and was near death. He then sadly entered Éowyn's chamber. He had feared that she would try to come to war, and yet was a hint proud of her, but it seemed to him that Arwen frowned at his pride.
"Here there is a grievous hurt and a heavy blow. The arm that was broken has been tended with due skill, and it will mend in time, if she has the strength to live. The shield-arm is maimed, but the chief evil comes from the sword-arm. It is not broken, but it is lifeless. She was pitted against a foe beyond her strength, and who will take a weapon to such an enemy much be sterner than steel, if the very shock of it does not destroy them."
Éomer, who was present, had a sudden, unbidden remembrance. It was of his childhood, when Théoden had told them of their grandparents. "My mother was Morwen, from Lossarnach - a part of Gondor that is near Mundburg. She was tall and slender, not to mention very beautiful. they called her Steel- sheen."
"It was an evil doom that set her in his path, for she is the fairest maiden of a house of queens. I know not how I should speak of her. When I first saw her at Edoras, I perceived her unhappiness. She appeared as a fair, bittersweet flower that is frozen by frost. Éomer, am I right in thinking this malady goes back before this day?"
"I hold you blameless lord," answered Éomer earnestly, "But I was unaware that Éowyn was touched by any frost until she first looked on you. Her fear and mine grew as Wormtongue's hold on the King strengthened, but that did not bring this to pass!"
Gandalf then spoke to Éomer, and his tone was soft: "My friend, you had horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields; but she, born in the body of a maid, had a spirit and courage at least the match of yours. Yet she was doomed to wait upon an old man, whom she loved as a father, and watch him fall into dotage, and her part seemed to her ignoble. For Wormtongue poisoned her mind, also, calling her away from her nobility. You heard the words of Saruman, the teacher of Wormtongue on the house of Eorl. It seemed to her that the walls closed in about her like a hutch."
And Éomer thought about it. Gandalf's words struck a chord with him, for he now saw his sister's life clearly, as she did. Then he glanced at Aragorn.
"I saw it also," said Aragorn. "Few griefs in the world match the bitterness in a man's heart on beholding the love of a woman, which he is not allowed to return. Sorrow and pity followed me from Dunharrow and my greatest fear was of what might befall her. Éomer, I love her, but I fear that she loves you more truly, for she knows you. I am but a passing shadow of glory and great deeds, far from the fields that she knows. If I can heal her of the malady you behold, but she awakens to despair then she will die. If she is hopeful, she will live. It is a matter of mind, not of body. The will to live will sustain her; it is her only chance of recovery. She has already won herself renown."
Aragorn bent down and looked into her face. Verily 'twas like a frosty lily, but he kissed her brow. "Éowyn Éomund's daughter, awake! Your enemy is gone." Though she stirred not, her breath now came deeply. Aragorn crushed a pair of athelas leaves, and the air tingled with purity. Aragorn looked contemplative for a moment, then a sort of painful resolve passed over his face. He took her hand and relaxed as warmth began to return to it.
"Awake, Éowyn, Lady of Rohan! Awake! The shadow is gone and all darkness is washed clean! Éomer, call her." Éomer stepped forwards, taking her hand, and Aragorn left the room.
"Éowyn, Éowyn!" he cried. She opened her eyes slowly.
"Éomer, what joy is this? Nay, 'twas a dream - I dreamt you were slain. How long have I been dreaming?" asked Éowyn.
"Not long," replied Éomer. "Lord Aragorn has healed you."
"I am very weary," she said. "But what of the Lord of the Mark? I dreamt also that he had fallen."
"He is dead and lies in great honour," sighed Éomer, "But bade me say farewell to Éowyn, dearer than daughter."
Éowyn also sighed. "That is grievous, for he was dearer than father to me. Yet it is good beyond my hope in the dark days, when it seemed that the house of Eorl was bereft of all honour. But what of the Halfling - the King's esquire? Éomer, you must make him a Knight, for he is valiant!"
"He lies nearby in sickness and I must go to him," said Gandalf. "I am greatly gladdened to see you well again, but speak not of war and woe! Not until you are truly well." For Gandalf remembered the final words of Aragorn, and saw the wisdom in them.
"To health?" said Éowyn. "Possibly, as long as I can fill a fallen Rider's saddle. But to hope: I know not."
As Aragorn joked with the new-healed Hobbit, Éowyn enquired of him. Éomer did not know how to respond to that question. Her tone was anxious, as though she anticipated some long-awaited answer. "He is well," replied Éomer at last. He forgot not Aragorn's words: 'I love her', but also 'love, which is not allowed be returned'. And he pondered these words.