Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or concepts of Middle Earth; they belong to the estate of JRR Tolkien. Tanathel, however, is my creation and I would like to be asked before she is used in any other fic.
Author's note: This story is set in an Alternate Universe of my own making. It is after the War of the Ring and several years into the Fourth Age. Boromir will feature in this story, and if you wish to learn how he survived, you will have to read. This will be mostly movie-verse, since no one knows what happened to Saruman after the Ents trashed Isengard in PJ's world.
A special thank you is in order, to Ithil-valon, for tireless beta-reading and endless encouragement. Thanks so much for being a sounding board, hon, I really appreciate it!
Dedications: To Evendim, who helped me find the courage to seriously write in this fandom, and who has given me great fun with her own AU series. And to my darling AJ, without whom I would never have had the courage to allow my stories to see the light of day. I couldn't have done it without you, ladies, and I love you both for it. Don't ever change.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
The Courtyard of the Fountain was filled to overflowing with people. The White Tree was in bloom, the mood festive, though the damage from Sauron's brief tenancy was still painfully evident.
Aragorn stood at the head of the steps, looking splendid in his Court robes, though the sorrow in his face would never truly fade. As one, the crowd calmed and quieted, waiting to see what their King would say to them.
"My friends, my people," he began. "These times have been a trial to us all. We have all lost friends, family, loved ones. Words cannot express my sorrow, my regret. We have all been touched by this horror, and survived. We must continue to survive, to live as intended, that our loved ones' tragic ends shall not be in vain." He shifted slightly, keeping his attention on those that mattered; his people. "We have all been touched by evil, and have been reminded most forcefully that true evil cannot be destroyed; only vanquished for a time. Not for nothing has Minas Tirith stood guard all these centuries against Mordor. Never again will we allow that guard to fall, our vigilance to lapse." His voice took on strength. "Never again will this City fall to the Enemy!"
A roar of approval answered him, and he took heart from it. He'd been afraid these people were too careworn, too beaten down to truly respond to his words. "To that end, there are some changes I will make. Do not fear; these changes will please you, I am certain. Boromir, come forth!"
Boromir strode forward amid the cheers, the sunlight glinting off his newly forged armor, and knelt before his King. "What would my King have of me?" he asked simply.
Aragorn raised him up and made certain he would be heard. "Boromir, you long held the defenses of this City and commanded her armies to great effect. I would ask this of you: that you again assume the mantle of leadership that you wear so well, as Captain-General of Gondor's armies. What say you?"
"I would be honored, my King," Boromir replied with a dignified nod. Only those who knew him well would see the joy lurking in his eyes.
"Then take up your duties, Captain-General!" Aragorn clapped him on the shoulder and smiled, waiting only for Boromir to take his place in the Honor Guard before speaking again. "Faramir, Steward of Gondor, come forth!"
Faramir stepped up. "Faramir, Steward of Gondor, Prince of Ithilien, you have borne great pain and suffering at the hands of the Enemy and remained loyal to Gondor nonetheless. For this, we honor you." Aragorn lifted his chin slightly, knowing he was about to put a cat among the pigeons, but determined to have his way. "As there are no heirs of my body, I name you my Heir."
Faramir bowed low to hide the tears in his eyes and composed himself quickly. "It will be my honor, my lord, and let us all hope that occasion shall be long in coming."
Aragorn then turned his attention to Eowyn. "You have suffered much for the good of Gondor, my lady. You have shown true loyalty and exceptional bravery, and for that, I offer my most heartfelt gratitude. Please accept this small gift in appreciation of your sacrifices." He opened a small box to display the ring there. "This ring I give to thee, and all your daughters and their daughters. It was most beloved of Queen Arwen for the fire in the stone." The ruby lay gleaming against the silver of the setting, almost seeming to pulse with a beat of its own.
Eowyn took it gratefully and set it upon her finger, holding it up to the sun to catch the brilliance of the stone. "It is a far greater gift than I have earned, my lord, and I will strive to be worthy of it." So saying, she stepped back.
Aragorn nodded and turned to Eomer. "Eomer-king of Rohan, you have long been my friend and ally. You have come to my aid many times, and I am grateful to have had the support of so loyal a friend. Please accept this token of my esteem." He offered a long sword, crafted by the finest smiths in Gondor, properly weighted and designed for ease of use on horseback.
Eomer received the sword and held it aloft, turning it over in his gaze and giving it a practice swing. Then he returned his gaze to Aragorn, his eyes intense. "And to you, I say this: That the Oath of Eorl has bound us to Gondor's aid, but no longer do we fight merely for the sake of the Oath. We fight for friendship, and in recognition of the blood shed on both sides for the good of all. And we are ever willing to come to Gondor's aid."
Aragorn gave him a nod of thanks and moved to Legolas. "Ever you have been my friend, since I was a boy. I have not the words to express my gratitude for your help. I hope that this small token shall adequately express my gratitude and joy that you remain so." The gift was a small crystal square, in which was embedded a blossom from the White Tree. "Let this ever show the connections between our people, the friendship that has grown between Men and Elves."
Legolas gave him a proper bow, with just the hint of a smile. Then it was Gimli's turn. "For the Dwarves, I offer my gratitude, and ask what you would have in return for such loyalty and honor. Whatever you should ask, it shall be given, if it is within my power."
Gimli stood forward, holding up Falin's axe. "Falin, son of Farin, fell in battle in the tunnels beneath this city. What we Dwarves would ask is that our sacrifice never be forgotten. We would ask that his axe be ever displayed in a place of honor in your Hall."
Aragorn took the axe, his face grave. "It shall rest always in my Hall, Gimli, son of Gloin, with the highest regard." Faramir took the axe from him with a murmur and went to see it done, and finally Aragorn came to the Hobbits.
"You have never failed to amaze me, either of you," he said at last. "Your stature may be less, but your deeds would make proud the mightiest of men. I have nothing worthy of such bravery, nothing worthy of the love and loyalty you have given me since the first day we met. What would you have of me?"
Pippin gave Merry a nudge. Merry stepped forward, his face composed. "We have considered it our honor and privilege to serve, my lord, and need no recognition for our deeds. Rather, we would see Gondor restored. And in aid of this most earnest endeavor, we have sent word to some friends to have them bring some things for you."
The crowd parted, and Pippin continued when Merry indicated he should take over. "The Shire had a bountiful harvest this year, and we thought Minas Tirith could use a few fresh foodstuffs. So we sent for what the Shire could spare, and here it is!"
Sam stepped forward from the head of the procession of carts and gave Aragorn a low bow. "The Shire has come to the aid of the High King, as it should," he stated firmly. "We are ever at your service."
Aragorn was thunderstruck. Abruptly, his face lightened and he laughed softly. "I should never underestimate you, my dear friends! Very well, then, let us distribute this wealth among our people! Sam, Peregrine, Meriadoc, see to it, please." He had to either laugh or cry.
"There is one more I would honor. Where is Tanathel of Ithilien?" Aragorn had not seen her, and he hoped she had not simply returned to her duties. Then she stepped from the crowd and he breathed a sigh of relief. He quickly schooled his expression when he marked her halting progress. "Tanathel of Ithilien, you have more than proven your worth to Gondor. There is no gift worthy of your bravery and sacrifice. I offer you a full commission in Gondor's army, and placement as Archery Instructor at the Military Academy, answerable directly to the Captain-General and myself. What say you?"
Tanathel straightened, no longer relying on the cane to stand tall. "I accept, my King, and with my thanks." She made to kneel and Aragorn stopped her quickly.
"You should rest your leg, Lieutenant Tanathel. Come, we have feasting and celebrating to attend!"
END
(Have no fear, the story continues! I am already hard at work on the sequel! DJ)
