Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate.

Author's Note: Written for dernhelm's "Outside" challenge over at the Elfsheen boards.

The Parting

"Why are you doing this? You cannot leave on the eve of battle! You cannot abandon the men."

Aragorn bowed his head slightly as her voice reached out to him. Why have you come, Eowyn? he silently asked, a feeling of sadness washing over him. Composing himself, he turned and watched Eowyn approach him, her eyes full of questioning.

"My road lies elsewhere…in the mountain," he answered softly, turning his eyes to the mountain that loomed forbidding above them.

Eowyn followed his gaze, the questioning in her eyes slowly replaced with dawning understanding. "The Paths of the Dead," she breathed. She met Aragorn's eyes. "You would dare take this deadly road?"

"I must," Aragorn said firmly.

"You know those who enter never return! What errand have you there?"

Aragorn turned away and strapped Anduril to his pack. "Arwen is dying…You need more men…" Elrond's words echoed in his head. He did not have hope that he would be successful in calling the ghosts dwelling in the mountain to fight for him. If he failed, what chance did Frodo have? Arwen would die, and what would become of him, Legolas, Gimli, Eowyn, all of Middle-Earth…? No, he dared not think of the possibility of defeat.

"We need you here. My uncle looks to you…" Eowyn's voice trailed off, a sob catching in her throat.

"Do not doubt your uncle's wisdom and ability," Aragorn said gently.

"I do trust my uncle," she said with conviction.

"Stay by him." Aragorn turned to her once more. "He will need you."

"And who shall go with you on this perilous road?" Eowyn asked, tears forming in her eyes.

"I go alone," he said firmly.

Eowyn stared at him, stunned speechless for a moment. "Not alone!" she gasped. "Let me ride by your side!"

"Nay, my Lady." Aragorn shook his head. "I could not allow you." He took Brego's reins in his hand, and when he raised his eyes, he beheld Eowyn kneeling at his feet. His resolve almost gave away at this sight, but he reminded himself of his honor. Thus, he did not give in to her tearful pleadings, though his heart was a heavy weight in his breast as he quietly denied her request, and his own eyes became moist. When she spoke no more words, she simply gazed up at him, her eyes wide, shining, and open, showing all the emotions hidden in their depths. Aragorn could not hold her gaze, grieved by the hopelessness and love he found: a hopelessness he was unable to lift and a love he was not permitted to return. Perhaps had the circumstances and times been different… he mused.

Carefully, tenderly, he raised Eowyn to her feet and pressed her hand to his lips for a long moment. His heart bled at how white she appeared in the moonlight, tearstains sparkling on her cheeks, her eyes now clouded. Not trusting himself to speak, he turned away from her and began to lead Brego through the encampment, aware of her ever-following eyes. As he moved on, a great pain came over him, and he feared what would befall the Lady in the future.

THE END