~@-/Pains in the Heart\-@~
I don't own Middle-earth or anything in it, Tolkien is the master, blah, blah, blah...
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Don't flame me! Whoa, you reviewed in your - erm, half-dozens... I care not! Keep doing that!
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Lúthien Tinuviel8: LOL! I didn't get that at first (me big thicko) but I agree with what you're saying. Faramir will be further redeemed in... No, I'll not say. Anywho, yeah that's prolly why nobody's reviewing, but now they're over and we'll be off school soon (roll on Friday) and we'll soon be enflamed by LOTR fever (roll on tomorrow) AND I'll have more time to type, maybe you'll keep up :)
Oh! You forgot "access to a decent-sized kingdom desirable" and "must NOT worship Sauron". I share in your jubilation since I'll be in the cinema in 2 hours *happy dance*.
Writerbrat: *shifts uncomfortably* I got onyx from Houses of Healing... Well, I was inspired! ;) I'm not from the US - not from that side of the Atlantic, quite frankly - but from where I stand, Bush seems like a total moron. Not to bring politics or controversy into it.
Common Welsh Green: Yes I am.
The Dark Wanderer: It was a lot of fun not writing what wasn't said! And yeah, more action.
Necole: More trouble, but it's not between them.
Mousie2: They're not having cold feet. The euphoria of getting together at last is passing and they're beginning to see that their marriage isn't going to be perfect - this isn't Valinor, people - but they can make the best of it.
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--+-- Aragorn's Chambers --+--
"Aragorn?" said Éomer. He gave the King of Gondor a quick shake. "They say you are to come immediately!"
Aragorn dragged himself into a sitting position and tried to wake his eyes by blinking. "What's happening?"
"The Haradrim..."
He sighed. "I feared this." Éomer stared. "The Haradrim are shrewd. They did not send more than a half of their men to Sauron, lest his plans go astray as they did once before. The Rohirrim slew their commander, a prince of the Near Harad, and Umbar is not solely inhabited by Black Númenoreans. Not one of their people returned, and the shadow has lifted from their hearts: they know that Sauron has failed again, and that they are the only great power that can threaten Gondor; long have they built their army."
"What is your counsel?" asked Éomer. This was going to be more serious than he had first thought.
"I say this to you only," said Aragorn warningly: "we must counter them quickly, long before they reach the River. If they march, then they also sail. I have fought the Haradrim at sea before, and they are formidable!"
--+-- The War Council --+--
"Yes, yes, I know," said Aragorn briskly, brushing away the messengers as he strode into the council room. He slammed his palms down on the table, leaning forward, looking from stunned old face to stunned old face. "Look, I want to win this war, so you are dismissed."
The silence deepened. "My liege, do I-"
"Yes, Nimwaer, you do. What are you waiting for? Go!"
The shocked councillors scurried out. Aragorn swung round to face a page. "You! Summon Imrahil, Frodo, Gimli, Legolas and Gandalf!" he cried in his haste. Seeing the page's confusion, he translated gently, "Prince Imrahil, the Ringbearer, Lord Glóinúl*, Lord Thranduilion and Lord Mithrandir."
"Yes, my liege!" said the page, and he scampered out. Aragorn sank into his chair with a sigh. Éomer took a place.
"I am sorry to see them go," said Aragorn, "for each of them was wise in his own right - but they were utterly useless as war councillors."
They sat in tired silence until the others arrived. When all were seated, there was just one empty seat. "Where is Lord Faramir?" asked Frodo, frowning. "And why have you summoned me, of all people, to a war council?
Gandalf smiled. "The wise oft need an opinion free of clutter."
"Yes, but where is Faramir?"
"Haven't Merry and Pippin spoken to you of this?" frowned Legolas.
"No, why?"
"It will suffice," said Aragorn, "to say that he has gone to Ithilien. But something else is come there. The Haradrim are on the march. To an army of that size, Gondor may fall, for they fight with the fury of the grieved."
"I can see that your mind is already made up," said Gandalf, "so why do you not take action? Are you afraid?"
"No," said Aragorn. "I seek another way, that is all."
"You purpose to fight them yourself," said Gimli, mystified. "Are you mad?"
"Do not jest, son of Glóin!" cried Imrahil; "he would not leave his people so early in his reign."
"I would," said Aragorn, "if it meant that I still had a people to rule."
All fell silent. "What, then, would you do?" asked Éomer. "How many men?"
"I will take as many as can be spared to Ithilien to head off the Haradrim, then take to the battle to the sea. Imrahil, your men are fine sailors. Find me as many as you can."
"When will we leave?"
"As soon as possible. You must each lead a company. Not you, Frodo, of course, or Sam - you have been through enough. But if Merry and Pippin desire to come, they may. I will take the Dúnedain and some Men of the City: we shall leave at sunset."
"I shall lead the Rohirrim," Éomer announced. "They will be ready by sun-up tomorrow."
"There are no Elves for me to lead," said Legolas, "but I shall lead such archers as I can find. Those of Morthond and the Rammas shall be my company."
"I have no Dwarves," Gimli agreed, "so I beg leave to march in the King's company."
"And I grant you leave," smiled Aragorn. "Imrahil, I request that you stay behind to order the sailors. Gandalf, would you be willing to stay and rule the City?"
"No." His voice was flat. "There is one better suited to the task."
"Faramir?" said Aragorn disbelievingly.
"Nay, not Faramir," said Gandalf, "but this person may not be willing."
"Éowyn cannot handle this City alone," said Aragorn simply. "Not yet."
"I would not be so sure," said Éomer. "She sees and knows more than she pretends. And Minas Tirith does not depend over-much on its king."
--+-- Éowyn's Chambers --+--
Éowyn was clad in a simple blue dress, not wanting to spoil her new ones, when she left her chambers. He head was abuzz. Why had Aragorn come to her sleeping? Where was he? Éomer, too, was gone. The sun was glaring with noon anger and there was not a soul to be seen in the palace.
Bewildered, she went to the dining hall and its everlasting feast. Just as she was tucking into some sausages, Aragorn arrived. "Éowyn," he said, "come with me."
She did. He led he up steps at the back of the hall into a deserted passage. "There is trouble on the borders," said Aragorn as he hurried along, "and I must go to war."
"What?" Éowyn felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.
"It is too great a threat to leave to Faramir and the other captains," he said, stopping to face her. "And I want your consent: will you rule in my stead?"
Éowyn was astounded. "Rule?"
"It is either you or Faramir," said Aragorn helplessly. "I do not want to foist this upon you, but it shall help you learn the ways of the City, as you wished, and to gain the love of the people."
"How long..."
"No more than three weeks," he said. "No more. You shall be a Regent."
"I have little choice in this matter," said Éowyn, resent tweaking her words.
"You know I would not go if *I* had the choice," said Aragorn. "But such is the life of the king."
"I accept," sighed Éowyn. "Three weeks? And then Dernhelm shall ride once more!"
"Yes," laughed Aragorn, "for if it takes three weeks then we shall need every soldier we can find. Éowyn, I know you want to go, and I want to stay, but such is life. When this is over," he stooped and kissed her brow, "it shall be time. You will feel ready."
--+-- The Pelennor Fields --+--
Sunset poured blood over the Pelennor, and Éowyn was strongly reminded of the last time she had seen troops upon it: the battle. She had missed the departure of the Captains of the West. She would not miss their second riding.
At the Gate of the City stood the families of those under Aragorn's command. Éowyn was among them. Final goodbyes were being said to wives and sweethearts, Éowyn among them. Aragorn came to her, and she flung her arms around his neck; he took her in his arms and kissed her, and men were glad to see their happiness, yet bittersweet was the parting.
At last the men drifted down the slope to their places on the Pelennor. Aragorn released her, and they embraced, her head on his chest. "Be sure to come back," she whispered.
"I will," he replied. "I love you."
"I love you," said Éowyn, and tears filled her eyes as she kissed him again.
"It is time."
Aragorn hurried to the head of his company. As before, he was leaving enough to guard the City from attack, lest Imrahil's forces failed. Éomer's group would ride quickly behind and catch up by noon of the next day, but until then Éowyn couldn't suppress the fear of his death before reinforcements could arrive. Of their deaths.
What if Éomer and Aragorn were both killed - then where would she stand? She would be alone, all alone. Éowyn convulsed with heavy sobs as Aragorn gave a great shout and rode away into the twilight.
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*I noticed that, when translated, the tomb of Balin is in fact inscribed "Balin, Fundinúl" leading me to believe that "úl" is the Khuzdul suffix for "son of". *sticks out tongue*
Going to see ROTK in 2 hours! Yay!
I don't own Middle-earth or anything in it, Tolkien is the master, blah, blah, blah...
-------------------+-------------------
Don't flame me! Whoa, you reviewed in your - erm, half-dozens... I care not! Keep doing that!
-------------------
Lúthien Tinuviel8: LOL! I didn't get that at first (me big thicko) but I agree with what you're saying. Faramir will be further redeemed in... No, I'll not say. Anywho, yeah that's prolly why nobody's reviewing, but now they're over and we'll be off school soon (roll on Friday) and we'll soon be enflamed by LOTR fever (roll on tomorrow) AND I'll have more time to type, maybe you'll keep up :)
Oh! You forgot "access to a decent-sized kingdom desirable" and "must NOT worship Sauron". I share in your jubilation since I'll be in the cinema in 2 hours *happy dance*.
Writerbrat: *shifts uncomfortably* I got onyx from Houses of Healing... Well, I was inspired! ;) I'm not from the US - not from that side of the Atlantic, quite frankly - but from where I stand, Bush seems like a total moron. Not to bring politics or controversy into it.
Common Welsh Green: Yes I am.
The Dark Wanderer: It was a lot of fun not writing what wasn't said! And yeah, more action.
Necole: More trouble, but it's not between them.
Mousie2: They're not having cold feet. The euphoria of getting together at last is passing and they're beginning to see that their marriage isn't going to be perfect - this isn't Valinor, people - but they can make the best of it.
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--+-- Aragorn's Chambers --+--
"Aragorn?" said Éomer. He gave the King of Gondor a quick shake. "They say you are to come immediately!"
Aragorn dragged himself into a sitting position and tried to wake his eyes by blinking. "What's happening?"
"The Haradrim..."
He sighed. "I feared this." Éomer stared. "The Haradrim are shrewd. They did not send more than a half of their men to Sauron, lest his plans go astray as they did once before. The Rohirrim slew their commander, a prince of the Near Harad, and Umbar is not solely inhabited by Black Númenoreans. Not one of their people returned, and the shadow has lifted from their hearts: they know that Sauron has failed again, and that they are the only great power that can threaten Gondor; long have they built their army."
"What is your counsel?" asked Éomer. This was going to be more serious than he had first thought.
"I say this to you only," said Aragorn warningly: "we must counter them quickly, long before they reach the River. If they march, then they also sail. I have fought the Haradrim at sea before, and they are formidable!"
--+-- The War Council --+--
"Yes, yes, I know," said Aragorn briskly, brushing away the messengers as he strode into the council room. He slammed his palms down on the table, leaning forward, looking from stunned old face to stunned old face. "Look, I want to win this war, so you are dismissed."
The silence deepened. "My liege, do I-"
"Yes, Nimwaer, you do. What are you waiting for? Go!"
The shocked councillors scurried out. Aragorn swung round to face a page. "You! Summon Imrahil, Frodo, Gimli, Legolas and Gandalf!" he cried in his haste. Seeing the page's confusion, he translated gently, "Prince Imrahil, the Ringbearer, Lord Glóinúl*, Lord Thranduilion and Lord Mithrandir."
"Yes, my liege!" said the page, and he scampered out. Aragorn sank into his chair with a sigh. Éomer took a place.
"I am sorry to see them go," said Aragorn, "for each of them was wise in his own right - but they were utterly useless as war councillors."
They sat in tired silence until the others arrived. When all were seated, there was just one empty seat. "Where is Lord Faramir?" asked Frodo, frowning. "And why have you summoned me, of all people, to a war council?
Gandalf smiled. "The wise oft need an opinion free of clutter."
"Yes, but where is Faramir?"
"Haven't Merry and Pippin spoken to you of this?" frowned Legolas.
"No, why?"
"It will suffice," said Aragorn, "to say that he has gone to Ithilien. But something else is come there. The Haradrim are on the march. To an army of that size, Gondor may fall, for they fight with the fury of the grieved."
"I can see that your mind is already made up," said Gandalf, "so why do you not take action? Are you afraid?"
"No," said Aragorn. "I seek another way, that is all."
"You purpose to fight them yourself," said Gimli, mystified. "Are you mad?"
"Do not jest, son of Glóin!" cried Imrahil; "he would not leave his people so early in his reign."
"I would," said Aragorn, "if it meant that I still had a people to rule."
All fell silent. "What, then, would you do?" asked Éomer. "How many men?"
"I will take as many as can be spared to Ithilien to head off the Haradrim, then take to the battle to the sea. Imrahil, your men are fine sailors. Find me as many as you can."
"When will we leave?"
"As soon as possible. You must each lead a company. Not you, Frodo, of course, or Sam - you have been through enough. But if Merry and Pippin desire to come, they may. I will take the Dúnedain and some Men of the City: we shall leave at sunset."
"I shall lead the Rohirrim," Éomer announced. "They will be ready by sun-up tomorrow."
"There are no Elves for me to lead," said Legolas, "but I shall lead such archers as I can find. Those of Morthond and the Rammas shall be my company."
"I have no Dwarves," Gimli agreed, "so I beg leave to march in the King's company."
"And I grant you leave," smiled Aragorn. "Imrahil, I request that you stay behind to order the sailors. Gandalf, would you be willing to stay and rule the City?"
"No." His voice was flat. "There is one better suited to the task."
"Faramir?" said Aragorn disbelievingly.
"Nay, not Faramir," said Gandalf, "but this person may not be willing."
"Éowyn cannot handle this City alone," said Aragorn simply. "Not yet."
"I would not be so sure," said Éomer. "She sees and knows more than she pretends. And Minas Tirith does not depend over-much on its king."
--+-- Éowyn's Chambers --+--
Éowyn was clad in a simple blue dress, not wanting to spoil her new ones, when she left her chambers. He head was abuzz. Why had Aragorn come to her sleeping? Where was he? Éomer, too, was gone. The sun was glaring with noon anger and there was not a soul to be seen in the palace.
Bewildered, she went to the dining hall and its everlasting feast. Just as she was tucking into some sausages, Aragorn arrived. "Éowyn," he said, "come with me."
She did. He led he up steps at the back of the hall into a deserted passage. "There is trouble on the borders," said Aragorn as he hurried along, "and I must go to war."
"What?" Éowyn felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.
"It is too great a threat to leave to Faramir and the other captains," he said, stopping to face her. "And I want your consent: will you rule in my stead?"
Éowyn was astounded. "Rule?"
"It is either you or Faramir," said Aragorn helplessly. "I do not want to foist this upon you, but it shall help you learn the ways of the City, as you wished, and to gain the love of the people."
"How long..."
"No more than three weeks," he said. "No more. You shall be a Regent."
"I have little choice in this matter," said Éowyn, resent tweaking her words.
"You know I would not go if *I* had the choice," said Aragorn. "But such is the life of the king."
"I accept," sighed Éowyn. "Three weeks? And then Dernhelm shall ride once more!"
"Yes," laughed Aragorn, "for if it takes three weeks then we shall need every soldier we can find. Éowyn, I know you want to go, and I want to stay, but such is life. When this is over," he stooped and kissed her brow, "it shall be time. You will feel ready."
--+-- The Pelennor Fields --+--
Sunset poured blood over the Pelennor, and Éowyn was strongly reminded of the last time she had seen troops upon it: the battle. She had missed the departure of the Captains of the West. She would not miss their second riding.
At the Gate of the City stood the families of those under Aragorn's command. Éowyn was among them. Final goodbyes were being said to wives and sweethearts, Éowyn among them. Aragorn came to her, and she flung her arms around his neck; he took her in his arms and kissed her, and men were glad to see their happiness, yet bittersweet was the parting.
At last the men drifted down the slope to their places on the Pelennor. Aragorn released her, and they embraced, her head on his chest. "Be sure to come back," she whispered.
"I will," he replied. "I love you."
"I love you," said Éowyn, and tears filled her eyes as she kissed him again.
"It is time."
Aragorn hurried to the head of his company. As before, he was leaving enough to guard the City from attack, lest Imrahil's forces failed. Éomer's group would ride quickly behind and catch up by noon of the next day, but until then Éowyn couldn't suppress the fear of his death before reinforcements could arrive. Of their deaths.
What if Éomer and Aragorn were both killed - then where would she stand? She would be alone, all alone. Éowyn convulsed with heavy sobs as Aragorn gave a great shout and rode away into the twilight.
===================
*I noticed that, when translated, the tomb of Balin is in fact inscribed "Balin, Fundinúl" leading me to believe that "úl" is the Khuzdul suffix for "son of". *sticks out tongue*
Going to see ROTK in 2 hours! Yay!