Dawn stepped into Eowyn's room, her eyes fixed on the bed. She could
hear Aragorn out in the hall, yelling at some old woman who talked too much
to find some athelas, but she tuned him out. Her friend was paler than
usual, and drawn against the pillows. Her left arm had been bandaged and
put in a sling, and her right arm lay doormant beside her.
Tentatively, Dawn reached out to touch the unmoving hand. She was reminded a little of seeing her mother's corpse in the hospital morgue. Eowyn was so cold Dawn actually shivered and pulled away. She curled in the bedside chair to wait for Aragorn to finish healing Faramir, now the Steward of Gondor so he could come and help the White Lady.
Minutes later, Eomer stormed in, Aragorn barely a step behind. Dawn moved out of the way to make room for the men. Aragorn tended to Eowyn's poisoned arm with the athelas, and left Eomer to talk to her, hoping her brother's voice would coax her back into consciousness.
Eomer sank into the chair, eyes wide with fear as he looked at his little sister, so quiet and unmoving, almost lost in the large bed. Dawn watched him sadly for a moment, before giving him a supportive kiss on his forehead and dashing out to catch up with the others, who were watching Aragorn tend to Merry.
She bit her lip to keep from laughing as Aragorn teased Merry, who was unable to locate his pack, which was currently sitting at the foot of the bed, in plain view of everyone but the injured Hobbit.
When Aragorn and the others left Merry under Pippin's care to rest, Dawn stayed behind to hear his story. Merry and Eowyn had disobeyed the King's orders for them to remain behind as they marched into battle, and had attacked, and killed the Witch King of Angmar, the head Nazgul.
Dawn shook her head. If this didn't teach them about equality, nothing would. She did not have time to dwell on the thought though, as someone had just mentioned the tragic fall of Theoden, King of Rohan on the battlefield. She felt a little guilty. She'd noticed he was missing from among them, but it hadn't dawned on her that he had been killed. And now Eomer was the King.
After a few minutes of discussing the kindly old man Merry had become such fast friends with, they made time to hear Pippin's story of why Faramir had needed the healing skill of Aragorn so urgently.
It was sickening to think that a father could want control of his son so badly as to almost will for him to die, and go so far as to try and immolate him, as Denethor had done with Faramir. Pippin had discovered the plan, and summoned Gandalf, which, Dawn decided, explained the Wizard's conspicuous absence from the battlefield.
She watched as the two young Hobbits dropped off to sleep beside one another and covered them over with a blanket. While she was watching over them, Aragorn came from war counsels to speak with her.
"I looked into the Palentir a few days ago," he confessed to her.
Dawn said nothing, just listened.
"I managed to control it over Sauron, which was a grievous blow to him. Nearly killed me though," he joked with a crooked smile.
She smiled back and rested her head on his shoulder, patting his knee supportively as he continued.
"By drawing the attention of the Eye towards me, I hope I can create enough of a distraction for Frodo and Sam... Valar-willing they are all right... to slip into Mount Doom unnoticed. But now a hard fate awaits me, Dawny. I started this chain of events, and I am bound to see it through. So we march. In two days, we are gathering an army to ride to Mordor in hopes that Sauron will believe I have the Ring and focus his wrath on me."
"Good plan," Dawn murmured.
"It will most likely kill us all," Aragorn responded, his sadness and guilt resonating through his words.
Dawn nodded. "Well, yeah, there is that. But it's still the right thing to do. Sometimes the only way to win is accepting that you will lose, Estel."
"You're coming with me, aren't you?" he asked, resigned before she had even answered.
"Yeah," Dawn responded softly.
Their attention turned back to the sleeping Hobbits. "They will hate to be left behind, but they cannot come. Not this time."
"One of them can," Dawn pointed out. Off Aragorn's look, she continued. "They deserve to represent their people, just like the Elves and Dwarves... and the Keys, and Pippin is physically capable of the march. Whatever the danger to him, he won't stay behind."
Aragorn nodded, knowing she was right. He watched Pippin, moved by the innocence of the tiny being as he snored softly. He felt a pair of arms creeping around his waist.
"Your family would be so proud of you, Estel. All your different families, I mean. I know I am."
Aragorn kissed the top of her head. "Thank you Seler'nin. But I find the word 'family' strange to me, I always felt like I never had a true family to belong to," he admitted. Somehow he knew that Dawn both understood and shared his pain.
"You belong to none of them, yet you are loved by all of them. Like me," she explained.
He smirked. "Right you are, Dawn."
* * * * *
It took five days for them to march to Mordor, and they arrived in the grey gloom of early morning. The Nazgul hovered above Barad-dur and watched as a group of captains marched forward. Gandalf was chief herald, Aragorn and the sons of Elrond went as well, as did Eomer and the Prince of Dol Amroth, Imrahil. Legolas, Gimli, Pippin and Dawn were also included so that all enemies of Mordor should have a witness.
They called Sauron out, but nothing happened for the longest time.
"Bored now," called Dawn in a sing-song voice, mimicking Vamp Will.
Now used to her odd wit, Elrohir grinned at the young woman next to him.
"Sorry, 'Ro," she smiled sheepishly. "Did I say that out loud?"
Just as they were about to turn away, giving up on receiving an answer to their challenge, a long, thunderous drumbeat sounded and the Lieutenant of Barad-dur rode out with a small guard. He introduced himself as the Mouth of Sauron.
"Pfft. Don't any bad-guy minions around here have decent names?" Dawn muttered, half to herself, half to Elrohir, who just shook his head at her. First Grima Wormtongue, now the Mouth of Sauron. Geez- much as she hated everything that had anything to do with the Hell-God, she had to admit that at least her head minion, Dreg, had a cool name. And then there was the Mayor's Mr. Trick...
Dawn was pulled out of her reverie as Aragorn stared the dark ambassador down. After a minute, the ambassador had a bundle brought forward, out of which he pulled a three items. First came Sam's short sword, second a grey cloak with an elven-brooch, and last of all, a tiny coat of Mithril. Pippin sprang forward with a cry of grief.
"Silence!" ordered Gandalf, but the Messenger laughed.
"Well, it is plain that this brat at least has seen these tokens before, and it would be vain for you to deny them now."
Gandalf and the Mouth of Sauron argued back and forth over Frodo and Sam's belongings, and the Messenger laid out Sauron's terms. They were to become his slaves, for the most part, in exchange for the captured Hobbit. By now all the captains had realised that the enemy had discovered only one of the Hobbits, Frodo it would seem from the Mithril coat, and that he had been assumed a spy, not the Ringbearer.
Gandalf rejected the terms, and snatched away the Hobbits' belongings. The Mouth of Sauron fled back to the tower, his guards blowing horns as they went. In the blink of an eye, the captains found themselves, and their armies surrounded in a ring of enemies ten times greater than themselves.
"Oh crap," moaned the lone female voice on the battlefield.
"I agree," returned Elrohir and Elladan as one.
Aragorn had little time to order his battle, but he managed to do so. He stood on one of two hills, with Gandalf by the hastily raised Gondorian banner. Opposite them he sent Eomer's men, their hill containing the banners of Rohan and Dol Amroth. Elladan and Elrohir he sent with Imrahil to the front lines, facing the first assault, which would come from the gates of Mordor. They led the remainder of the Dunedain, and the men of the Tower of Guard. Dawn stood by them.
Suddenly, the Nazgul came swooping over and all hope was quenched.
The small voice of Pippin could be heard lamenting, "I wish Merry was here."
But then nothing else could be heard above the clash of metal upon metal. Hill-trolls from Gorgoroth came bearing down upon them, and Pippin found himself alone facing one of the beasts. He stabbed upwards, and the creature, its vitals pierced, thundered down on top of him.
Vaguely, voices could be heard crying: "The Eagles are coming! The Eagles are coming!"
The Eagles came, and the large, mighty birds chased the Nazgul off. Somehow, they all felt hope returning to them as they fought. And a little ways off, Mount Doom began to shudder and shake. All their enemy seemed to quail, as if they had lost their will, and became easy prey for the army of the West.
A great shadow rose up from the tower and engulfed them all, but was taken away, disippating in the wind.
Aragorn spared a second to exchange a hopeful glance with Dawn across the sea of bodies separating them. "Sam," he guessed.
"Frodo," Dawn replied, daring to hope for her burdoned friend.
They shrugged, having no time for speculation at the present, and turned back to watch their foes scattering like dust on the wind.
* * * * *
Dawn looked around her. Everything seemed so bleak, so grey. But it was over. Whatever the cost, they had won. And they had survived. She scanned the battlefield, looking for her companions. Aragorn, Eomer... Gandalf she had seen taking off on the back of a massive eagle called Gwaihir to rescue Frodo and Sam from the volcano's depths. Elladan and Elrohir... she let out an involuntary sigh of relief when she spotted Legolas. She scanned more furiously- where were Gimli and Pippin?
Finally, she saw them. Gimli had just pulled the Hobbit out from underneath a huge troll, and it was obvious that the beast had been slain by the tiny Pippin. They both seemed ok. It was eerily quiet. A sudden impulse came to Dawn, and without thinking twice, she acted upon it. She began to sing.
"/Where do we go from here?/"
Everybody close enough to hear her turned their heads to stare. Dawn ignored them all and continued.
"/Where do we go from here?
The battle's done, and we kinda won,
So we sound our victory cheer.
But where do we go from here?
Why is the path unclear,
When we know home is near?
Understand we'll go hand in hand
But we'll walk alone in fear, tell me,
Where do we go from here?
When does the end appear?
When do they trumpets cheer?
The curtains close on a kiss, God knows
We can tell the end is near,
But where do we go from here?/"
When she had finished, Dawn looked up. Everyone looked sombre and Pippin was actually crying. She cringed inwardly. She hadn't meant to cause a scene and hurt everybody's feelings, she just felt like singing that song. It always seemed so appropriate.
She knelt down beside Pippin and gave him a gentle hug. She looked up into Aragorn's eyes, surprised to find tears shining in those grey depths, too. Then Dawn noticed that her own cheeks were wet with tears. She released Pippin and stood up, allowing her brother to gather her up in his arms.
She sniffled and kissed his cheek. "All hail King Estel," she joked softly.
Standing near enough to hear, Elladan and Elrohir chuckled quietly at Dawn.
* * * * *
They took their time marching back to Minas Tirith. For several days the majority of the host, including all four Hobbits (Sam and Frodo having been rescued from Mount Doom and Merry having been sent for from the city) camped in the fields of Cormallen. The rest spent nearly a week riding deep into Mordor to destroy all the fortresses there.
Finally, though, they made their way back to Minas Tirith, to Aragorn's crowning. The gates were broken, but heavily guarded, and in front of them stood the Steward of Gondor, now fully healed, with the White Lady of Rohan by his side. A great crowd of people had gathered all around them.
In a loud, clear voice, Faramir presented Aragorn to the people, and asked them if he should now enter the city and become their King.
The answer was a resounding, "Yea!"
Faramir took the crown and gave it to Aragorn, who insisted that Frodo bring it to him so he could be crowned by Gandalf.
Dawn stared up at Aragorn, wonder shining in her eyes.
Faramir cried out, "Behold the King!" and the reign of Elessar began in a flurry of excitement which lasted the next several days.
Dawn grinned to herself. Almost from the moment he had been crowned, Aragorn began to spoil her. He put the Fellowship together in a large house right by the castle, but he insisted that his 'sister', as she quickly became known as to the citizens of Minas Tirith, have a room near his inside the castle.
He had many dresses made for her, including one very elaborate gown which he cryptically suggested she would need very soon. For the most part, Dawn was happy, spending a lot of time with Eowyn and Eomer, and also with the Hobbits. Elladan and Elrohir had left a few days after the coronation, but had promised they would return soon.
But every time she caught sight of Legolas, whose fair Elven features easily set him apart from the crowds of humans, a cloud passed over Dawn's eyes. Naturally, she tried to hide her pain, which mostly involved disappearing whenever the Elf came within a hundred yards of her. But there were times when she could not escape him. Either by accident or on purpose, Aragorn had seated the pair directly across form one another at meals, so Dawn was often quiet, keeping her head down and concentrating on playing with her food whilst the conversation swirled around her.
She never noticed a pair of wizened eyes often resting on her, or the hand stroking a long white beard as its owner studied her, deep in thought.
* * * * *
A/N: I think that part moved kinda swift, but it's not as if you didn't know they were gonna win anyway. R&R please (since I remembered my manners this time) ~Anoron
Tentatively, Dawn reached out to touch the unmoving hand. She was reminded a little of seeing her mother's corpse in the hospital morgue. Eowyn was so cold Dawn actually shivered and pulled away. She curled in the bedside chair to wait for Aragorn to finish healing Faramir, now the Steward of Gondor so he could come and help the White Lady.
Minutes later, Eomer stormed in, Aragorn barely a step behind. Dawn moved out of the way to make room for the men. Aragorn tended to Eowyn's poisoned arm with the athelas, and left Eomer to talk to her, hoping her brother's voice would coax her back into consciousness.
Eomer sank into the chair, eyes wide with fear as he looked at his little sister, so quiet and unmoving, almost lost in the large bed. Dawn watched him sadly for a moment, before giving him a supportive kiss on his forehead and dashing out to catch up with the others, who were watching Aragorn tend to Merry.
She bit her lip to keep from laughing as Aragorn teased Merry, who was unable to locate his pack, which was currently sitting at the foot of the bed, in plain view of everyone but the injured Hobbit.
When Aragorn and the others left Merry under Pippin's care to rest, Dawn stayed behind to hear his story. Merry and Eowyn had disobeyed the King's orders for them to remain behind as they marched into battle, and had attacked, and killed the Witch King of Angmar, the head Nazgul.
Dawn shook her head. If this didn't teach them about equality, nothing would. She did not have time to dwell on the thought though, as someone had just mentioned the tragic fall of Theoden, King of Rohan on the battlefield. She felt a little guilty. She'd noticed he was missing from among them, but it hadn't dawned on her that he had been killed. And now Eomer was the King.
After a few minutes of discussing the kindly old man Merry had become such fast friends with, they made time to hear Pippin's story of why Faramir had needed the healing skill of Aragorn so urgently.
It was sickening to think that a father could want control of his son so badly as to almost will for him to die, and go so far as to try and immolate him, as Denethor had done with Faramir. Pippin had discovered the plan, and summoned Gandalf, which, Dawn decided, explained the Wizard's conspicuous absence from the battlefield.
She watched as the two young Hobbits dropped off to sleep beside one another and covered them over with a blanket. While she was watching over them, Aragorn came from war counsels to speak with her.
"I looked into the Palentir a few days ago," he confessed to her.
Dawn said nothing, just listened.
"I managed to control it over Sauron, which was a grievous blow to him. Nearly killed me though," he joked with a crooked smile.
She smiled back and rested her head on his shoulder, patting his knee supportively as he continued.
"By drawing the attention of the Eye towards me, I hope I can create enough of a distraction for Frodo and Sam... Valar-willing they are all right... to slip into Mount Doom unnoticed. But now a hard fate awaits me, Dawny. I started this chain of events, and I am bound to see it through. So we march. In two days, we are gathering an army to ride to Mordor in hopes that Sauron will believe I have the Ring and focus his wrath on me."
"Good plan," Dawn murmured.
"It will most likely kill us all," Aragorn responded, his sadness and guilt resonating through his words.
Dawn nodded. "Well, yeah, there is that. But it's still the right thing to do. Sometimes the only way to win is accepting that you will lose, Estel."
"You're coming with me, aren't you?" he asked, resigned before she had even answered.
"Yeah," Dawn responded softly.
Their attention turned back to the sleeping Hobbits. "They will hate to be left behind, but they cannot come. Not this time."
"One of them can," Dawn pointed out. Off Aragorn's look, she continued. "They deserve to represent their people, just like the Elves and Dwarves... and the Keys, and Pippin is physically capable of the march. Whatever the danger to him, he won't stay behind."
Aragorn nodded, knowing she was right. He watched Pippin, moved by the innocence of the tiny being as he snored softly. He felt a pair of arms creeping around his waist.
"Your family would be so proud of you, Estel. All your different families, I mean. I know I am."
Aragorn kissed the top of her head. "Thank you Seler'nin. But I find the word 'family' strange to me, I always felt like I never had a true family to belong to," he admitted. Somehow he knew that Dawn both understood and shared his pain.
"You belong to none of them, yet you are loved by all of them. Like me," she explained.
He smirked. "Right you are, Dawn."
* * * * *
It took five days for them to march to Mordor, and they arrived in the grey gloom of early morning. The Nazgul hovered above Barad-dur and watched as a group of captains marched forward. Gandalf was chief herald, Aragorn and the sons of Elrond went as well, as did Eomer and the Prince of Dol Amroth, Imrahil. Legolas, Gimli, Pippin and Dawn were also included so that all enemies of Mordor should have a witness.
They called Sauron out, but nothing happened for the longest time.
"Bored now," called Dawn in a sing-song voice, mimicking Vamp Will.
Now used to her odd wit, Elrohir grinned at the young woman next to him.
"Sorry, 'Ro," she smiled sheepishly. "Did I say that out loud?"
Just as they were about to turn away, giving up on receiving an answer to their challenge, a long, thunderous drumbeat sounded and the Lieutenant of Barad-dur rode out with a small guard. He introduced himself as the Mouth of Sauron.
"Pfft. Don't any bad-guy minions around here have decent names?" Dawn muttered, half to herself, half to Elrohir, who just shook his head at her. First Grima Wormtongue, now the Mouth of Sauron. Geez- much as she hated everything that had anything to do with the Hell-God, she had to admit that at least her head minion, Dreg, had a cool name. And then there was the Mayor's Mr. Trick...
Dawn was pulled out of her reverie as Aragorn stared the dark ambassador down. After a minute, the ambassador had a bundle brought forward, out of which he pulled a three items. First came Sam's short sword, second a grey cloak with an elven-brooch, and last of all, a tiny coat of Mithril. Pippin sprang forward with a cry of grief.
"Silence!" ordered Gandalf, but the Messenger laughed.
"Well, it is plain that this brat at least has seen these tokens before, and it would be vain for you to deny them now."
Gandalf and the Mouth of Sauron argued back and forth over Frodo and Sam's belongings, and the Messenger laid out Sauron's terms. They were to become his slaves, for the most part, in exchange for the captured Hobbit. By now all the captains had realised that the enemy had discovered only one of the Hobbits, Frodo it would seem from the Mithril coat, and that he had been assumed a spy, not the Ringbearer.
Gandalf rejected the terms, and snatched away the Hobbits' belongings. The Mouth of Sauron fled back to the tower, his guards blowing horns as they went. In the blink of an eye, the captains found themselves, and their armies surrounded in a ring of enemies ten times greater than themselves.
"Oh crap," moaned the lone female voice on the battlefield.
"I agree," returned Elrohir and Elladan as one.
Aragorn had little time to order his battle, but he managed to do so. He stood on one of two hills, with Gandalf by the hastily raised Gondorian banner. Opposite them he sent Eomer's men, their hill containing the banners of Rohan and Dol Amroth. Elladan and Elrohir he sent with Imrahil to the front lines, facing the first assault, which would come from the gates of Mordor. They led the remainder of the Dunedain, and the men of the Tower of Guard. Dawn stood by them.
Suddenly, the Nazgul came swooping over and all hope was quenched.
The small voice of Pippin could be heard lamenting, "I wish Merry was here."
But then nothing else could be heard above the clash of metal upon metal. Hill-trolls from Gorgoroth came bearing down upon them, and Pippin found himself alone facing one of the beasts. He stabbed upwards, and the creature, its vitals pierced, thundered down on top of him.
Vaguely, voices could be heard crying: "The Eagles are coming! The Eagles are coming!"
The Eagles came, and the large, mighty birds chased the Nazgul off. Somehow, they all felt hope returning to them as they fought. And a little ways off, Mount Doom began to shudder and shake. All their enemy seemed to quail, as if they had lost their will, and became easy prey for the army of the West.
A great shadow rose up from the tower and engulfed them all, but was taken away, disippating in the wind.
Aragorn spared a second to exchange a hopeful glance with Dawn across the sea of bodies separating them. "Sam," he guessed.
"Frodo," Dawn replied, daring to hope for her burdoned friend.
They shrugged, having no time for speculation at the present, and turned back to watch their foes scattering like dust on the wind.
* * * * *
Dawn looked around her. Everything seemed so bleak, so grey. But it was over. Whatever the cost, they had won. And they had survived. She scanned the battlefield, looking for her companions. Aragorn, Eomer... Gandalf she had seen taking off on the back of a massive eagle called Gwaihir to rescue Frodo and Sam from the volcano's depths. Elladan and Elrohir... she let out an involuntary sigh of relief when she spotted Legolas. She scanned more furiously- where were Gimli and Pippin?
Finally, she saw them. Gimli had just pulled the Hobbit out from underneath a huge troll, and it was obvious that the beast had been slain by the tiny Pippin. They both seemed ok. It was eerily quiet. A sudden impulse came to Dawn, and without thinking twice, she acted upon it. She began to sing.
"/Where do we go from here?/"
Everybody close enough to hear her turned their heads to stare. Dawn ignored them all and continued.
"/Where do we go from here?
The battle's done, and we kinda won,
So we sound our victory cheer.
But where do we go from here?
Why is the path unclear,
When we know home is near?
Understand we'll go hand in hand
But we'll walk alone in fear, tell me,
Where do we go from here?
When does the end appear?
When do they trumpets cheer?
The curtains close on a kiss, God knows
We can tell the end is near,
But where do we go from here?/"
When she had finished, Dawn looked up. Everyone looked sombre and Pippin was actually crying. She cringed inwardly. She hadn't meant to cause a scene and hurt everybody's feelings, she just felt like singing that song. It always seemed so appropriate.
She knelt down beside Pippin and gave him a gentle hug. She looked up into Aragorn's eyes, surprised to find tears shining in those grey depths, too. Then Dawn noticed that her own cheeks were wet with tears. She released Pippin and stood up, allowing her brother to gather her up in his arms.
She sniffled and kissed his cheek. "All hail King Estel," she joked softly.
Standing near enough to hear, Elladan and Elrohir chuckled quietly at Dawn.
* * * * *
They took their time marching back to Minas Tirith. For several days the majority of the host, including all four Hobbits (Sam and Frodo having been rescued from Mount Doom and Merry having been sent for from the city) camped in the fields of Cormallen. The rest spent nearly a week riding deep into Mordor to destroy all the fortresses there.
Finally, though, they made their way back to Minas Tirith, to Aragorn's crowning. The gates were broken, but heavily guarded, and in front of them stood the Steward of Gondor, now fully healed, with the White Lady of Rohan by his side. A great crowd of people had gathered all around them.
In a loud, clear voice, Faramir presented Aragorn to the people, and asked them if he should now enter the city and become their King.
The answer was a resounding, "Yea!"
Faramir took the crown and gave it to Aragorn, who insisted that Frodo bring it to him so he could be crowned by Gandalf.
Dawn stared up at Aragorn, wonder shining in her eyes.
Faramir cried out, "Behold the King!" and the reign of Elessar began in a flurry of excitement which lasted the next several days.
Dawn grinned to herself. Almost from the moment he had been crowned, Aragorn began to spoil her. He put the Fellowship together in a large house right by the castle, but he insisted that his 'sister', as she quickly became known as to the citizens of Minas Tirith, have a room near his inside the castle.
He had many dresses made for her, including one very elaborate gown which he cryptically suggested she would need very soon. For the most part, Dawn was happy, spending a lot of time with Eowyn and Eomer, and also with the Hobbits. Elladan and Elrohir had left a few days after the coronation, but had promised they would return soon.
But every time she caught sight of Legolas, whose fair Elven features easily set him apart from the crowds of humans, a cloud passed over Dawn's eyes. Naturally, she tried to hide her pain, which mostly involved disappearing whenever the Elf came within a hundred yards of her. But there were times when she could not escape him. Either by accident or on purpose, Aragorn had seated the pair directly across form one another at meals, so Dawn was often quiet, keeping her head down and concentrating on playing with her food whilst the conversation swirled around her.
She never noticed a pair of wizened eyes often resting on her, or the hand stroking a long white beard as its owner studied her, deep in thought.
* * * * *
A/N: I think that part moved kinda swift, but it's not as if you didn't know they were gonna win anyway. R&R please (since I remembered my manners this time) ~Anoron