Winds
By
Necole
Disclaimer: All of this belongs to Tolkien.
Notes: Well, this was one hell of a chapter to write! I'm still not sure about it. So be kind! This one is not as cheerful as the others have been. If cheerful is what you want to call them. Very AU, but I stole a lot of stuff from the book and movie this time! So *SPOILERS*
This is for anyone interested, I started a Yahoo group for A/E fan fiction. I know! I know! I've mentioned it before. This is the last time this very desperate person will mention it! I promise!!!
But I have since corrected some problems. There is no longer this evil adult restriction that has kept a lot of people from joining. It's just a very nice place for us A/E shippers to come and mope around about Tolkien's finished product. You do not have to be a writer to join. Just come on and join! I know you want to!!! Just go to my profile and under my homepage will be the link! Go and join right now!!! J
Thank you to all who reviewed! I appreciate your kind words!!!!
A special thank you to Lisa, who provided me with some much needed lines from the movie! THANK YOU! I hope you enjoy the scene!
Okay, here we go!
I hope you all enjoy!!!!!
Chapter Four: Words
Aragorn watched as the last rays of sun fell behind the western horizon. There would be no twilight to whisper words of promise or hope. Dark fingers of the enemy had now come announcing the true reach of evil. The wide expanse of sky filled with a vaporous shadow, consuming the stars and their promises. Now, not even he whom the Elves had called Estel could find hope in his heart. The world seemed to be on the edge of doom. One more step and all would be lost. He thought back to his mother, a presence that never left his thoughts.
"I gave hope to the Dúnedan, I have kept none for myself."
The weight of his heritage fell heavily upon his shoulders. He looked down upon the tents of the camp at Dunharrow. Fires were being lit, men talked, and made some cheer even with darkness looming over them. Hope still remained, but he knew it would fade with the coming dawn. The number of men was not enough and there was nothing for him to do.
The stillness of the dark air was broken as a sudden wind blew from the west. Aragorn closed his eyes and listened.
Echoes, voices of the past glided freely past him. The sounds brought the sight of memory.
He saw his mother's gaze, changing from illuminated to shadowed as she learned of his father's fate.
"No tears, you must be brave."
Words she had spoken to him on their flight to Rivendell. The darkness of her eyes and of the night had frightened him. Yet never once did she allow for tears of her own to fall. Stern had been her face, though a shroud of sadness hung from her frame for the rest of her days.
He listened to her whispers and drank in her strength.
Another voice accompanied his mother's ethereal words. Soft and enchanting it was. His heart forgot conflict as the new voice reached out with delicate tendrils drawing him away from the western sky.
His eyes opened to golden beams of hair dancing wickedly in the wind. A kind face with eyes of ignited faith and strength. Light steps brought her closer to him. Hesitation slowed her hand as she reached out to touch his brow. His grim face fell with her gentle touch. Two soothing fingers brought his chin back up. Looking upon her again all contradictions seemed to leave his heart. Here, looking into her eyes he saw his truth. He closed his tired eyes and buried his face in the relief of her shoulder.Éowyn's eyes shut and with her hands she left only the small memory of touch.
"You must grow weary. I wish I could take some of your burden."
Her voice sang the words quietly, another gift of comfort.
He inhaled slowly, not wanting the moment to pass.
"The future seems dark, then I look into your eyes and I see the light again."
Her soft caresses continued,
"And I see the light you give to the men. They have found their captain. No matter what evil you may lead them to, you will have their faith."
Aragorn turned his head resting his cheek on her shoulder,
"That burden I wish was not mine. Their faith, so willingly put into a stranger's hands. I do not wish to lead, but if I must, then I will."
She placed both hands on his face, raising his gaze to meet hers.
"It is that in which urges them to follow you. You are a humble man, my Lord Aragorn. Greatness is often found in those who do not seek it."
His lips twitched into a sad smile,
"I do not know what it is I seek."
No words were spoken for a long while. Only the secrets that silence can possess passed between them.
Slowly she withdrew her hands from his face. Both thumbs left the heat of her touch upon his lips. Delicate fingers slid down his chin, neck, and finally his chest. Her hands rested upon his heart. Then her eyes lifted to meet his,
"Will you look for me at dawn?"
One step brought him a breath away from her. He gently brushed her lips with his own. Éowyn's arms encircled his neck as the kiss deepened. Their lips broke apart leaving only the whispers of breath. Aragorn placed his forehead against hers before he spoke,
"Too long have I sought loneliness, even when darkness had its hold over me. I have been foolish, your presence I have wanted, but did not have the courage to seek."
He heard her take in a sharp breath as she hid her face in his neck. She held on to him tightly as the much desired words filled her ears.
"I will look for you Lady Éowyn, that is my promise."
They stood for a long time in each others arms. Then Éowyn pulled away, her hands resumed their journey down his body. One hand traveled the length of each arm. She took hold of his hands and looked into his eyes. Her clear gaze told of the admiration and love that she held for him. She smiled as a tear slid down her cheek. She freed his hands and presented her own wrist. There hanging as a bracelet of gold was a lock of her hair, braided and tied. She removed it and took up his left hand again. In silence she gently tied the golden chain of hair around his wrist. With her job done, she allowed his wrist to fall from her grasp.
Aragorn looked upon her with much confusion.
"Éowyn? I do not. . ."
"No, do not speak," she wrapped her arms around him again.
"Bear my gift without question for at least this one night. When the sun rises, I will explain."
Her arms fell away from his neck,
"I should leave you. You need rest, I have stayed too long as it is."
She turned to leave, but Aragorn caught her arm. He needed to tell her something, something that he was sure he would be able to voice this night. But as her eyes met his with their questioning gaze, his courage failed. He stammered and withdrew his hold of Éowyn's arm.
"Tomorrow, I will see you tomorrow."
She smiled at his strange behavior, then nodded.
"Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight."
She turned and walked away, leaving him alone with his memories. Memories of another farewell and another gift that he still carried.
* * * * * * *
Out of the hushed stillness of the night a voice called,
"Renewed shall be blade that was broken."
"Your days are short!"
The cold wind came, freezing the Evenstar, shattering it into many pieces.
"Farewell Estel, Farewell."
His heart constricted with her words. The pain her voice held made him gasp in his sleep. He saw her depart, her back forever turned from the shores of Middle-earth. Why had she left if her heart had not truly desired it? Arwen's ship departed, leaving behind only the memory of light. Slowly his mind's eye wandered through the vast lands of twilight. No longer was there light, nor was there darkness. Lost were the truths he had held.
Appearing out of the many purples and pinks of twilight lay a crossroads. He looked down each path, debating which would be chosen. Suddenly hair golden as the sun blew in a quiet breeze, touching his face. Then there was laughter, light and joyful echoing through the haze of half light. The bright rays of shining hair flew past him, the enchanting laughter called to him. Left he went, following the golden hair of the laughing girl. She ran, always out of his reach, until stopping and resting at the foot of a fallen king's statue. Legs still remained upon a pedestal but the upper half had since been maimed. The echoes of laughter stopped as the small girl kneeled down. He stood looking over her shoulder, waiting to see what she had found. She moved slightly allowing him to view the severed head of the fallen king. Aragorn looked upon his own face, a crown he bore. A plant had come and entwined itself around the fallen statue. Small white flowers that resembled stars intermingled between the green leaves of the new crown.
The small girl turned, her piercing blue eyes stayed his heart.
"The crownless again shall be king."
Aragorn opened his mouth to voice many questions. But the small girl closed her eyes, and with a brief flicker, all turned to black.
He sat up, startled out of a restless sleep. He turned to look at the opening of his tent, his dagger at the ready.
A young member of the king's guard jumped back at the quickness of Aragorn's motions.
"My lord, the king he-he has summoned you."
With slow sleep calling steps Aragorn went forth with the young man to answer Théoden.
The young guard stopped just outside the royal tent. Aragorn entered to meet a very grim Théoden. The king removed his hand from his face and stood. With determined steps he walked past Aragorn.
"I take my leave."
A black hooded figure stood allowing his anonymity to be revealed.
"Lord Elrond!"
Aragorn bowed before the Elf-lord.
Elrond approached him with graceful steps.
" I come to you now at the end of all your wanderings. The days grow short, soon the lives of men will be nothing but memories of stone and forgotten graves. It is time for you to accept your heritage."
Aragorn's face fell,
"I turned from that path."
From under Elrond's black cape came the shining beams of red and white that had once been Narsil.
"Take the sword Aragorn. It is the shards of Narsil, forged again. Andúil, the flame of the west. You are the only one who can wield it. Take it, take it and set out upon the path of the doomed. It is there where the hope of men lies."
Aragorn hesitated before reaching out and taking the sword from Elrond.
"You speak of the paths of the dead. How will the spirits of traitors help us in our need?"
Elrond nodded his head towards the sword.
"You are Isildur's heir, only you can call upon their forgotten vow. Like the shards of a mighty sword, promises can also be renewed."
Intense were their stares upon one another. Elrond noticed the grimace on Aragorn's face.
"I know this is not the fate you would have made for yourself." He placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder.
"Remember the words of one who wishes to be here."
Aragorn looked upon Elrond with desperation, his heart pleaded for words from across the sea.
Words, words of rhyme and of legend were all that escaped from Elrond's mouth. No message of want or of regret. Nothing but the old words that had been put to rhyme by an old friend.
The desperate glance of Aragorn's turned to kindness as the words reached him. Moments of simple pleasure returned as memories. Peace and great happiness he had always found at the Last Homely House.
"Bilbo."
A soft smile lit his face.
Elrond nodded,
"Yes, it was Master Baggins who first spoke those words. It is he who persuaded me to come and give you the gift of your fathers. He wishes he could be here, to see you now that your time has come."
Elrond's posture and voice changed. No longer was there request upon his breath, now he demanded.
"The blade that was broken has been made new. It is time for you to set out upon the path that will lead you to a crown. The crownless, shall again be king."
Aragorn lowered the sword, allowing the true pain of indecision to be revealed.
"I do not know. How am I to do this, when weakness, the same weakness of all men runs through my veins. Promises I have broken, words that have not been kept. I am guilty of all the sins of men. How am I to stand and rule, when I cannot promise strength?"
Elrond took hold of Aragorn's wrist and raised the blade, pressing the hilt to the man's chest.
"You will find your strength. All of us who believe in you know you will find it."
Aragorn shook his head,
"No! I do not know what it is I seek."
Elrond let out a breath of impatience, then calmed himself.
"Your heart has already decided, it will guide you. You only have to listen."
Aragorn closed his eyes in defeat. He knew that Elrond spoke the truth. His time had indeed come.
Lord Elrond took a step back from Aragorn,
"I have given hope to Men."
Aragorn opened his eyes with recognition,
"I have kept none for myself."
Elrond placed the hood of his black cloak over his head once again.
"You know what it is you must do."
Aragorn simply nodded.
Elrond moved to leave, but Aragorn stopped him by offering the Evenstar
"Take this, it is no longer mine to keep."
Elrond placed one palm up, declining the token.
"No, it still has some part to play yet. Bear it for a while longer, you will know when to part from it."
Unnerved by this night of gifts, Aragorn searched Elrond's face for answers, but found none.
"Farewell Elessar."
* * * * * * *
The camp stirred with restless men. Words of fear and of abandonment echoed through the tents, blowing the smoke of displeasure into Aragorn's eyes. He did not want to leave the men of Rohan in such a manner, but he did not have a choice. Death, he did not fear, only the weakness that failure would bring to the Men of the West. He readied his horse for departure, attempting to turn a deaf ear to the disturbed words that surrounded him.
The Paths of the Dead brought enough disturbed thoughts to his own mind. How was he to accomplish this, his second task. His mind still burned with the memory of his previous act. A treacherous act indeed. A hobbit, and now a man had seen the face of Sauron. Shadows of their meeting would forever haunt Aragorn. His strength had been barely enough to endure. Weariness that had been brought on by the meeting, was now slow to leave his body. Tired, sleep ready eyes closed as all action stopped. He would need rest to draw the darkness out.
Then, from the not so distant past, a voice came. It called him from the very edge of the void. The doom in his heart was forgotten as his mind reached out to the voice. He turned and opened his eyes to the light.
"Aragorn!"
The Lady Éowyn was approaching fast. Strong and fierce were her eyes, her jaw was set.
Light she did bring, but her disappointment, he could not bear.
"Éowyn, why have you come?"
She stopped short, her face washed over with the pain of injury that his eyes brought.
"Do you forget your words of promise, my lord? Or do you simply wish to break them?"
He finished preparing the horse, then he turned. His face held the grim reminders of battle and heartache. He approached her slowly, stopping an arms length from her.
"I have not forgotten. My time grows short, I must depart in haste."
Tears sprung from her eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks.
"Then the men are not the only ones who suffer at the hand of your broken words of promise!"
He stepped closer and reached out with one hand to wipe a tear away. Éowyn reacted with anger and pushed his hand from her face.
"Why? Why do you abandon those who believe in your cause?"
Aragorn shook his head,
"I do not abandon. This is my path Éowyn. I wish this evil on no one but myself."
Her eyebrow questioned his response.
"I must travel the Paths of the Dead. It is our only hope."
She stumbled back in shock, her hand placed over her mouth. It fell away slowly, allowing her to finally speak.
"I do not understand! Why must you travel this deadly path? What hope could it possibly bring?"
He went to her now and placed his hands on her shoulders.
" I do not just seek the hope of a forgotten vow. But I leave now to bring hope to the men of Rohan. I have looked into the palantír, Sauron has seen my face. Only my departure can insure the safety of those who reside here."
Words would not come. The shock of his deeds were still too great. He watched as the silent battle played upon her face. A quivering chin, a furrowed brow, weakness she had shown no one. He could do nothing, this was his fate that he had accepted. He wished to bring her no more pain, there had been enough. Aragorn's hands fell from her small frame. He turned his back on her.
"I beg you. Let me ride."
Lifeless were the eyes that he saw when looking again in her direction. She had fallen upon her knees, her hands motionless at her sides.
"I can fight. I will follow by my own free will. Please let me ride with you."
Still, there was no emotion in her voice. She had returned to Winter, no longer did Spring bloom in the depth of her eyes. Her stern face made of ice forgot the warmth of smiles and the freedom of laughter. Her golden light stopped its glitter, creating not a shadow, but a dull light of protection.
Aragorn went to her and he too fell upon his knees. He took up her hands and with a desperate plea tried to explain.
"You cannot go. Think of your uncle and your brother. They would not want to see you go on such a perilous journey. Stay here Éowyn."
He placed their clasped hands over her heart.
"Remember your promise to your people. You will have rule over them when your uncle departs. You cannot find your valour upon a haunted path. Battle might come without you following me. Valour is found by way of your duty here."
Raising one of her hands, he kissed it. Then he stood and brought her to her feet. No emotion touched her vacant face.
"I will leave you now, Lady Éowyn. I wish upon you nothing but good fortune."
Aragorn then turned and walked away from her. A wind blew from behind him, carrying the whispers of her small voice.
"Do I mean nothing to you?"
His step hesitated, he felt the burning gaze of Éowyn calling to him. And though there was want in him, he did not look back.
He set out for the Paths of the Dead, Legolas and Gimili followed. Only they knew of the pain those words had bought him.
He would carry the memories of that night for the rest of his days.
* * * * * * *
If fate had allowed Aragorn and his company to stay at Dunharrow, dawn might have brought a different scene. It was while the bright rays of the new sun could be seen, that Théoden went in search of his niece. There she stood watching, waiting for the sun to be extinguished by the shadow.
She was changed this morning. Forgotten was the glow of her features. Her light had been frozen once again. She was like the water of a small stream, when the sun was out, it sparkled with life. Yet, when the winter came and the sun was gone, she would freeze, allowing nothing to enter.
He approached her carefully,
"Merry has been looking for you. I believe he is quite worried."
Éowyn turned, startled from her reverie.
"What?" Then as understanding took her, she responded.
"Oh yes, I will see him before he rides."
Théoden bowed his head,
"I do not think that battle is a place for little hobbits. I must tell him that he cannot go."
There was a brief flicker of anger in her eyes, but then it faded quickly. Her face was frozen in the same vacant mask.
"Yes, of course, for his own safety."
He nodded his head.
"Yes, for his own safety."
He came to her uncrossing her tight arms from around her body. He leaned in and quietly said,
"I have left instruction at Edoras, that you shall rule in my stead."
She blinked as if the words had stung her. Yet, no real emotion was shown on her face.
"What other duty would you have me do, my lord?"
Théoden's brow furrowed with puzzlement,
"Duty?"
He cupped her face with both hands, attempting to break through her frozen features. Then with a father's care he spoke the words he wished for her.
"I would have you smile again, do not grieve for those whose time has come."
He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.
"Goodbye my niece, my daughter."
A tear quietly sparkled in the fading sunrise.
"Goodbye uncle."
He left now for war, for Gondor.
The king was only a few paces away from her when she called out to him.
"Yes Éowyn, what is it?"
There was a small shine of life in her eyes when he looked upon her again.
"Uncle, did-did you know that there were no stars last night?"
Théoden's eyebrows showed his confusion.
"No, I did not notice. Why? What, if anything, does the lack of stars mean?"
She set her jaw before she answered.
"It means that there are no promises."
By
Necole
Disclaimer: All of this belongs to Tolkien.
Notes: Well, this was one hell of a chapter to write! I'm still not sure about it. So be kind! This one is not as cheerful as the others have been. If cheerful is what you want to call them. Very AU, but I stole a lot of stuff from the book and movie this time! So *SPOILERS*
This is for anyone interested, I started a Yahoo group for A/E fan fiction. I know! I know! I've mentioned it before. This is the last time this very desperate person will mention it! I promise!!!
But I have since corrected some problems. There is no longer this evil adult restriction that has kept a lot of people from joining. It's just a very nice place for us A/E shippers to come and mope around about Tolkien's finished product. You do not have to be a writer to join. Just come on and join! I know you want to!!! Just go to my profile and under my homepage will be the link! Go and join right now!!! J
Thank you to all who reviewed! I appreciate your kind words!!!!
A special thank you to Lisa, who provided me with some much needed lines from the movie! THANK YOU! I hope you enjoy the scene!
Okay, here we go!
I hope you all enjoy!!!!!
Chapter Four: Words
Aragorn watched as the last rays of sun fell behind the western horizon. There would be no twilight to whisper words of promise or hope. Dark fingers of the enemy had now come announcing the true reach of evil. The wide expanse of sky filled with a vaporous shadow, consuming the stars and their promises. Now, not even he whom the Elves had called Estel could find hope in his heart. The world seemed to be on the edge of doom. One more step and all would be lost. He thought back to his mother, a presence that never left his thoughts.
"I gave hope to the Dúnedan, I have kept none for myself."
The weight of his heritage fell heavily upon his shoulders. He looked down upon the tents of the camp at Dunharrow. Fires were being lit, men talked, and made some cheer even with darkness looming over them. Hope still remained, but he knew it would fade with the coming dawn. The number of men was not enough and there was nothing for him to do.
The stillness of the dark air was broken as a sudden wind blew from the west. Aragorn closed his eyes and listened.
Echoes, voices of the past glided freely past him. The sounds brought the sight of memory.
He saw his mother's gaze, changing from illuminated to shadowed as she learned of his father's fate.
"No tears, you must be brave."
Words she had spoken to him on their flight to Rivendell. The darkness of her eyes and of the night had frightened him. Yet never once did she allow for tears of her own to fall. Stern had been her face, though a shroud of sadness hung from her frame for the rest of her days.
He listened to her whispers and drank in her strength.
Another voice accompanied his mother's ethereal words. Soft and enchanting it was. His heart forgot conflict as the new voice reached out with delicate tendrils drawing him away from the western sky.
His eyes opened to golden beams of hair dancing wickedly in the wind. A kind face with eyes of ignited faith and strength. Light steps brought her closer to him. Hesitation slowed her hand as she reached out to touch his brow. His grim face fell with her gentle touch. Two soothing fingers brought his chin back up. Looking upon her again all contradictions seemed to leave his heart. Here, looking into her eyes he saw his truth. He closed his tired eyes and buried his face in the relief of her shoulder.Éowyn's eyes shut and with her hands she left only the small memory of touch.
"You must grow weary. I wish I could take some of your burden."
Her voice sang the words quietly, another gift of comfort.
He inhaled slowly, not wanting the moment to pass.
"The future seems dark, then I look into your eyes and I see the light again."
Her soft caresses continued,
"And I see the light you give to the men. They have found their captain. No matter what evil you may lead them to, you will have their faith."
Aragorn turned his head resting his cheek on her shoulder,
"That burden I wish was not mine. Their faith, so willingly put into a stranger's hands. I do not wish to lead, but if I must, then I will."
She placed both hands on his face, raising his gaze to meet hers.
"It is that in which urges them to follow you. You are a humble man, my Lord Aragorn. Greatness is often found in those who do not seek it."
His lips twitched into a sad smile,
"I do not know what it is I seek."
No words were spoken for a long while. Only the secrets that silence can possess passed between them.
Slowly she withdrew her hands from his face. Both thumbs left the heat of her touch upon his lips. Delicate fingers slid down his chin, neck, and finally his chest. Her hands rested upon his heart. Then her eyes lifted to meet his,
"Will you look for me at dawn?"
One step brought him a breath away from her. He gently brushed her lips with his own. Éowyn's arms encircled his neck as the kiss deepened. Their lips broke apart leaving only the whispers of breath. Aragorn placed his forehead against hers before he spoke,
"Too long have I sought loneliness, even when darkness had its hold over me. I have been foolish, your presence I have wanted, but did not have the courage to seek."
He heard her take in a sharp breath as she hid her face in his neck. She held on to him tightly as the much desired words filled her ears.
"I will look for you Lady Éowyn, that is my promise."
They stood for a long time in each others arms. Then Éowyn pulled away, her hands resumed their journey down his body. One hand traveled the length of each arm. She took hold of his hands and looked into his eyes. Her clear gaze told of the admiration and love that she held for him. She smiled as a tear slid down her cheek. She freed his hands and presented her own wrist. There hanging as a bracelet of gold was a lock of her hair, braided and tied. She removed it and took up his left hand again. In silence she gently tied the golden chain of hair around his wrist. With her job done, she allowed his wrist to fall from her grasp.
Aragorn looked upon her with much confusion.
"Éowyn? I do not. . ."
"No, do not speak," she wrapped her arms around him again.
"Bear my gift without question for at least this one night. When the sun rises, I will explain."
Her arms fell away from his neck,
"I should leave you. You need rest, I have stayed too long as it is."
She turned to leave, but Aragorn caught her arm. He needed to tell her something, something that he was sure he would be able to voice this night. But as her eyes met his with their questioning gaze, his courage failed. He stammered and withdrew his hold of Éowyn's arm.
"Tomorrow, I will see you tomorrow."
She smiled at his strange behavior, then nodded.
"Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight."
She turned and walked away, leaving him alone with his memories. Memories of another farewell and another gift that he still carried.
* * * * * * *
Out of the hushed stillness of the night a voice called,
"Renewed shall be blade that was broken."
"Your days are short!"
The cold wind came, freezing the Evenstar, shattering it into many pieces.
"Farewell Estel, Farewell."
His heart constricted with her words. The pain her voice held made him gasp in his sleep. He saw her depart, her back forever turned from the shores of Middle-earth. Why had she left if her heart had not truly desired it? Arwen's ship departed, leaving behind only the memory of light. Slowly his mind's eye wandered through the vast lands of twilight. No longer was there light, nor was there darkness. Lost were the truths he had held.
Appearing out of the many purples and pinks of twilight lay a crossroads. He looked down each path, debating which would be chosen. Suddenly hair golden as the sun blew in a quiet breeze, touching his face. Then there was laughter, light and joyful echoing through the haze of half light. The bright rays of shining hair flew past him, the enchanting laughter called to him. Left he went, following the golden hair of the laughing girl. She ran, always out of his reach, until stopping and resting at the foot of a fallen king's statue. Legs still remained upon a pedestal but the upper half had since been maimed. The echoes of laughter stopped as the small girl kneeled down. He stood looking over her shoulder, waiting to see what she had found. She moved slightly allowing him to view the severed head of the fallen king. Aragorn looked upon his own face, a crown he bore. A plant had come and entwined itself around the fallen statue. Small white flowers that resembled stars intermingled between the green leaves of the new crown.
The small girl turned, her piercing blue eyes stayed his heart.
"The crownless again shall be king."
Aragorn opened his mouth to voice many questions. But the small girl closed her eyes, and with a brief flicker, all turned to black.
He sat up, startled out of a restless sleep. He turned to look at the opening of his tent, his dagger at the ready.
A young member of the king's guard jumped back at the quickness of Aragorn's motions.
"My lord, the king he-he has summoned you."
With slow sleep calling steps Aragorn went forth with the young man to answer Théoden.
The young guard stopped just outside the royal tent. Aragorn entered to meet a very grim Théoden. The king removed his hand from his face and stood. With determined steps he walked past Aragorn.
"I take my leave."
A black hooded figure stood allowing his anonymity to be revealed.
"Lord Elrond!"
Aragorn bowed before the Elf-lord.
Elrond approached him with graceful steps.
" I come to you now at the end of all your wanderings. The days grow short, soon the lives of men will be nothing but memories of stone and forgotten graves. It is time for you to accept your heritage."
Aragorn's face fell,
"I turned from that path."
From under Elrond's black cape came the shining beams of red and white that had once been Narsil.
"Take the sword Aragorn. It is the shards of Narsil, forged again. Andúil, the flame of the west. You are the only one who can wield it. Take it, take it and set out upon the path of the doomed. It is there where the hope of men lies."
Aragorn hesitated before reaching out and taking the sword from Elrond.
"You speak of the paths of the dead. How will the spirits of traitors help us in our need?"
Elrond nodded his head towards the sword.
"You are Isildur's heir, only you can call upon their forgotten vow. Like the shards of a mighty sword, promises can also be renewed."
Intense were their stares upon one another. Elrond noticed the grimace on Aragorn's face.
"I know this is not the fate you would have made for yourself." He placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder.
"Remember the words of one who wishes to be here."
Aragorn looked upon Elrond with desperation, his heart pleaded for words from across the sea.
Words, words of rhyme and of legend were all that escaped from Elrond's mouth. No message of want or of regret. Nothing but the old words that had been put to rhyme by an old friend.
The desperate glance of Aragorn's turned to kindness as the words reached him. Moments of simple pleasure returned as memories. Peace and great happiness he had always found at the Last Homely House.
"Bilbo."
A soft smile lit his face.
Elrond nodded,
"Yes, it was Master Baggins who first spoke those words. It is he who persuaded me to come and give you the gift of your fathers. He wishes he could be here, to see you now that your time has come."
Elrond's posture and voice changed. No longer was there request upon his breath, now he demanded.
"The blade that was broken has been made new. It is time for you to set out upon the path that will lead you to a crown. The crownless, shall again be king."
Aragorn lowered the sword, allowing the true pain of indecision to be revealed.
"I do not know. How am I to do this, when weakness, the same weakness of all men runs through my veins. Promises I have broken, words that have not been kept. I am guilty of all the sins of men. How am I to stand and rule, when I cannot promise strength?"
Elrond took hold of Aragorn's wrist and raised the blade, pressing the hilt to the man's chest.
"You will find your strength. All of us who believe in you know you will find it."
Aragorn shook his head,
"No! I do not know what it is I seek."
Elrond let out a breath of impatience, then calmed himself.
"Your heart has already decided, it will guide you. You only have to listen."
Aragorn closed his eyes in defeat. He knew that Elrond spoke the truth. His time had indeed come.
Lord Elrond took a step back from Aragorn,
"I have given hope to Men."
Aragorn opened his eyes with recognition,
"I have kept none for myself."
Elrond placed the hood of his black cloak over his head once again.
"You know what it is you must do."
Aragorn simply nodded.
Elrond moved to leave, but Aragorn stopped him by offering the Evenstar
"Take this, it is no longer mine to keep."
Elrond placed one palm up, declining the token.
"No, it still has some part to play yet. Bear it for a while longer, you will know when to part from it."
Unnerved by this night of gifts, Aragorn searched Elrond's face for answers, but found none.
"Farewell Elessar."
* * * * * * *
The camp stirred with restless men. Words of fear and of abandonment echoed through the tents, blowing the smoke of displeasure into Aragorn's eyes. He did not want to leave the men of Rohan in such a manner, but he did not have a choice. Death, he did not fear, only the weakness that failure would bring to the Men of the West. He readied his horse for departure, attempting to turn a deaf ear to the disturbed words that surrounded him.
The Paths of the Dead brought enough disturbed thoughts to his own mind. How was he to accomplish this, his second task. His mind still burned with the memory of his previous act. A treacherous act indeed. A hobbit, and now a man had seen the face of Sauron. Shadows of their meeting would forever haunt Aragorn. His strength had been barely enough to endure. Weariness that had been brought on by the meeting, was now slow to leave his body. Tired, sleep ready eyes closed as all action stopped. He would need rest to draw the darkness out.
Then, from the not so distant past, a voice came. It called him from the very edge of the void. The doom in his heart was forgotten as his mind reached out to the voice. He turned and opened his eyes to the light.
"Aragorn!"
The Lady Éowyn was approaching fast. Strong and fierce were her eyes, her jaw was set.
Light she did bring, but her disappointment, he could not bear.
"Éowyn, why have you come?"
She stopped short, her face washed over with the pain of injury that his eyes brought.
"Do you forget your words of promise, my lord? Or do you simply wish to break them?"
He finished preparing the horse, then he turned. His face held the grim reminders of battle and heartache. He approached her slowly, stopping an arms length from her.
"I have not forgotten. My time grows short, I must depart in haste."
Tears sprung from her eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks.
"Then the men are not the only ones who suffer at the hand of your broken words of promise!"
He stepped closer and reached out with one hand to wipe a tear away. Éowyn reacted with anger and pushed his hand from her face.
"Why? Why do you abandon those who believe in your cause?"
Aragorn shook his head,
"I do not abandon. This is my path Éowyn. I wish this evil on no one but myself."
Her eyebrow questioned his response.
"I must travel the Paths of the Dead. It is our only hope."
She stumbled back in shock, her hand placed over her mouth. It fell away slowly, allowing her to finally speak.
"I do not understand! Why must you travel this deadly path? What hope could it possibly bring?"
He went to her now and placed his hands on her shoulders.
" I do not just seek the hope of a forgotten vow. But I leave now to bring hope to the men of Rohan. I have looked into the palantír, Sauron has seen my face. Only my departure can insure the safety of those who reside here."
Words would not come. The shock of his deeds were still too great. He watched as the silent battle played upon her face. A quivering chin, a furrowed brow, weakness she had shown no one. He could do nothing, this was his fate that he had accepted. He wished to bring her no more pain, there had been enough. Aragorn's hands fell from her small frame. He turned his back on her.
"I beg you. Let me ride."
Lifeless were the eyes that he saw when looking again in her direction. She had fallen upon her knees, her hands motionless at her sides.
"I can fight. I will follow by my own free will. Please let me ride with you."
Still, there was no emotion in her voice. She had returned to Winter, no longer did Spring bloom in the depth of her eyes. Her stern face made of ice forgot the warmth of smiles and the freedom of laughter. Her golden light stopped its glitter, creating not a shadow, but a dull light of protection.
Aragorn went to her and he too fell upon his knees. He took up her hands and with a desperate plea tried to explain.
"You cannot go. Think of your uncle and your brother. They would not want to see you go on such a perilous journey. Stay here Éowyn."
He placed their clasped hands over her heart.
"Remember your promise to your people. You will have rule over them when your uncle departs. You cannot find your valour upon a haunted path. Battle might come without you following me. Valour is found by way of your duty here."
Raising one of her hands, he kissed it. Then he stood and brought her to her feet. No emotion touched her vacant face.
"I will leave you now, Lady Éowyn. I wish upon you nothing but good fortune."
Aragorn then turned and walked away from her. A wind blew from behind him, carrying the whispers of her small voice.
"Do I mean nothing to you?"
His step hesitated, he felt the burning gaze of Éowyn calling to him. And though there was want in him, he did not look back.
He set out for the Paths of the Dead, Legolas and Gimili followed. Only they knew of the pain those words had bought him.
He would carry the memories of that night for the rest of his days.
* * * * * * *
If fate had allowed Aragorn and his company to stay at Dunharrow, dawn might have brought a different scene. It was while the bright rays of the new sun could be seen, that Théoden went in search of his niece. There she stood watching, waiting for the sun to be extinguished by the shadow.
She was changed this morning. Forgotten was the glow of her features. Her light had been frozen once again. She was like the water of a small stream, when the sun was out, it sparkled with life. Yet, when the winter came and the sun was gone, she would freeze, allowing nothing to enter.
He approached her carefully,
"Merry has been looking for you. I believe he is quite worried."
Éowyn turned, startled from her reverie.
"What?" Then as understanding took her, she responded.
"Oh yes, I will see him before he rides."
Théoden bowed his head,
"I do not think that battle is a place for little hobbits. I must tell him that he cannot go."
There was a brief flicker of anger in her eyes, but then it faded quickly. Her face was frozen in the same vacant mask.
"Yes, of course, for his own safety."
He nodded his head.
"Yes, for his own safety."
He came to her uncrossing her tight arms from around her body. He leaned in and quietly said,
"I have left instruction at Edoras, that you shall rule in my stead."
She blinked as if the words had stung her. Yet, no real emotion was shown on her face.
"What other duty would you have me do, my lord?"
Théoden's brow furrowed with puzzlement,
"Duty?"
He cupped her face with both hands, attempting to break through her frozen features. Then with a father's care he spoke the words he wished for her.
"I would have you smile again, do not grieve for those whose time has come."
He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.
"Goodbye my niece, my daughter."
A tear quietly sparkled in the fading sunrise.
"Goodbye uncle."
He left now for war, for Gondor.
The king was only a few paces away from her when she called out to him.
"Yes Éowyn, what is it?"
There was a small shine of life in her eyes when he looked upon her again.
"Uncle, did-did you know that there were no stars last night?"
Théoden's eyebrows showed his confusion.
"No, I did not notice. Why? What, if anything, does the lack of stars mean?"
She set her jaw before she answered.
"It means that there are no promises."