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: This is a prequel to "Lost and Found." Feedback is welcomed.
Darkness and Light
Aragorn could not explain the dark cloud of unease which had settled over his mind for the last few days. He found himself restless and anxious, pacing the cold corridors of Minas Tirth late into the night; his thoughts drifted while meeting with his council; his eyes searched the Pelennor Fields that stretched out before the White City. For what he did not know.
He wished Eowyn was here. She would help him understand the reason for his distress; she would ease his mind. But she had left two weeks ago, riding to Rohan with Eomer. Gimli and Legolas were here visiting; yet he did not know how to unburden himself to them. He was further troubled by the fact that Legolas also seemed to sense something, somewhere, was not right.
The only brief moments when Aragorn was able to escape from the storm that hung over him were when he visited his and Eowyn's child, Arathorn, who was just seven months old. He would bask in how lulling his son to sleep gave him such now-rare pleasure.
A few days later, Aragorn went out riding. The sky warned of rain, but he needed to be free of the walls of the White City. He needed to be able to think clearly, freely. He rode aimlessly, some of the tension falling away from his shoulders. When the rain came pounding down on the earth, he rode on still. It was almost evening when he at last returned to Minas Tirth. He barely entered the entrance hall when Gimli pounced on him.
As the dwarf dragged him along through the maze of corridors, Aragorn tried to understand his friend's mutterings. Gimli then explained that a small group of Rohirrim had arrived at midday. They bore with them Eomer, who was gravely wounded and was being tended to in the Houses of Healing. An ice wave of shock hit Aragorn in the chest at this news. His eyes filling with fear and worry, he matched Gimli's pace and after an eternity arrived at the Houses of Healing.
He and Gimli found a group gathered outside the room where Eomer had been brought. Suddenly unable to go on, Aragorn leaned against the wall, his heart beating painfully. He felt no less at ease when a healer delivered the grateful news that Eomer was out of danger, though he had yet to awake. His head spinning, he listened in numb silence as one of the Rohan soldiers recounted what had happened.
They had been attacked, outnumbered by the orcs. Both King Eomer and Queen Eowyn fell. Nearly all with them were killed, except for a few who did not have the strength to fight. Then those orcs who had survived, fled. The soldiers who were still alive searched among the bodies for the king and queen. Eomer was discovered, alive. But they could not find any trace of Eowyn among the dead.
"No!" the anguished cry escaped Aragorn's lips as he turned pale and his knees buckled. He was caught by Legolas who lunged forward. He brushed off his friends' and the healers' concerns and stubbornly insisted on seeing Eomer.
The King of the Rider Mark's right shoulder was bandaged where he had been shot with two arrows. There was a faint color returning to his cheeks, and his breathing was slow and steady. Sinking into a chair by the bed, Aragorn dismissed all but Legolas and Gimli from the room. Trembling, he slowly dropped his head into his hands.
Eowyn…Eowyn…Eowyn… What had happened to her? Had she been killed? But she had not been found. Had she been taken away with the orcs? Aragorn's hands balled into fists. He could not lose her.
Eomer woke crying out his sister's name, demanding to know where she was. After Aragorn brokenly explained about Eowyn's disappearance, both brothers-in-law shed many tears.
For the next several weeks, soldiers from Gondor and Rohan searched in vain for any sign or word of Eowyn. Aragorn longed passionately to go out and search every inch of Middle-earth for her, but his council claimed he could not go off into the wilderness for possibly weeks on end to look for his wife; there were more pressing matters he needed to turn his attention to. He was needed here.
So he stayed. But his steps were full of despair and darkness. His heart felt like it was breaking piece by piece. He barely ate or slept. He would lie in bed, cold, missing the warmth Eowyn's body next to his had brought. He would spend each evening with Arathorn, knowing that even his son was aware of his mother's absence as he cried often during the night and would sometimes not stop fussing unless given to his father. Aragorn hardly allowed himself to wonder what he would do if he must go on without Eowyn and raise their son on his own. Once during a meeting a foolish and insensitive counselor had suggested he should start looking for a new queen. In a terrible, furious voice, Aragorn had darkly forbidden the subject to be mentioned ever again. He left as one who was slowly wasting away, being caged in the city, waiting hopelessly, when he wanted to be searching. He could not believe Eowyn was dead; she could not be taken from him in this cruel way – not this soon.
Hours passed like days, days like weeks, weeks like months, and months like years.
One bright morning, a youth requested an audience with the king. Trembling with nervousness and excitement, he explained how a few weeks ago he and his mother had discovered a woman collapsed by the brook where they get their water. She was sunburned and had scratches on her arms and legs, and her dress was near rags. They had brought her to their cottage; and looking at the stranger more closely, his mother believed the woman was the Queen of Gondor!
The youth then showed Aragorn, a handkerchief. While slightly dirtied, he recognized the embroidered patterns in gold and red threads. Tears of disbelief and joy filled his eyes as he brought the handkerchief to his lips. She was alive!
With new strength he jumped up from his throne and asked the youth if he would be willing to take him to his home.
"Of course, my king!" he replied.
A smile – the first one in months – lighted the king's face, and the age that had settled on his face fell away. His eyes were clear and fiery. Looking about at those gathered in the hall, he said, "We leave at once!"
THE END