So sorry it's been so long. I had a LOT of trouble with this chapter. That is aside from the fact that school started this week. YIKES!

EllowynTinuviel: Frankly, I still don't get why you didn't read "To Understand." However, it doesn't matter. THANK YOU!

Sam: Thank you. Love your name. As for Eomer, I just always imagined him particularly tall, riding a giant horse and all that. After that, I read on a website that he's supposed to be six feet or taller.

Vor Tirla Laime: I agree in every way. A/E is awesome, but Faramir's just better. Thanks for putting me on your favorites!

Telhyandowen: I've been waiting for your review! Thank you so much. I hope you keep reading. I really like what she said too. I was really surprised by that when it came out. Oh, and about Eomer, yeah, I adore him. He's one of my favorites (if you want more, I'm going to post an E/L story soon). PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING!

Thank you to everyone who read this story and did not review. As much as I wish you would review, I know what it's like. I don't review as much as I'd like. THANK YOU!

Someone to Catch My Tears

Part Three: Aragorn

I searched the dead for familiar faces, and I was not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing when I saw how few I knew. As a ranger, friends were hard to come by, and I had fewer than most. Sometimes I missed the company; it was why I relished in taking those hobbits, however annoying they were sometimes, to Rivendell. It was why I didn't let Frodo die when he could have. Well, the fact that he was the ringbearer also played into it; if it had been Pippin, I don't know what I would have done. Also, Frodo was the calmest of the four. Sometimes Pippin became unbearable. However, on the good side of things, having few friends meant having few lives about which to fret.

I was startled from my search when I heard Eomer crying out; my heart broke. I spotted Theoden's stallion, and I knew that the king was dead underneath the horse. But I was surprised when Eomer did not drag his uncle out from underneath the horse, instead, he cradled someone else in his arms.

Suddenly, I was numb. There were two people in Eomer's life whom he would love like this. I saw Theoden then, crushed beneath Snowmane, and I knew who the first person must be.

My mind screamed a thousand thoughts at once, but I only heard one of them. Why? Why her? Why did she have to be taken from me so soon? Why did she have to ride to battle, and why did she have to die? I remembered those few sweet days of comfort. We became inseparable. She accepted my offer immediately, and from that point on we decided to spend what little time together. I could feel how much she loved me. I almost even forgot about Arwen. Eowyn was such a relief from the spell, and I felt so strongly for her. Arwen became part of my past; she was no longer part of my present. Only Eowyn was. We played these games; we would see how much we could get away with, right under Eomer's and Theoden's noses. Such joy: a joy I had not known for such a long time.

I numbly made my way through the dead and wounded bodies, and finally reached Eowyn. My dear, beloved Eowyn. How could she leave me?

Why?

Eomer looked up at me, tears making lines all over his face, and more still coming. I realized I had voiced my question aloud, rather than in my head as I had thought.

"Why did she have to die?" I asked.

Eomer just shook his head and looked back down at his sister. What right does he have to hold her like that? I wondered. I should be the one holding her, weeping over her. Instead, it was that brother of hers. It was probably his fault that she rode to battle in the first place. If he had let her go…

I realized that my thoughts were no longer making sense.

You blame whatever you can for your misfortune and misery.

Eowyn's words came back to me, haunting me. Would I ever be free from the spell that she too had placed on me? I didn't know. Yet, I found it somewhat odd that I felt as though I could never be free from Eowyn, yet I had been just as devastated over Arwen. How quickly I had dealt with my loss of Arwen. Would the same stand true about Eowyn? Could I ever find someone to love for my entire life? Was it wrong to love a woman for sixty-eight years and then, as soon as she was gone from my life fall for someone else? It sounded wrong, yet I felt so happy with Eowyn. Everything was so nice with her.

I looked around me and noticed one of the Nagul beasts lay there, slain. I moved to examine it, and the empty cloak that lay with it, and I saw that it was none other than the Witch King himself who had been slain. I glanced over at Eowyn, in her brother's arms, and then back at the Witch King's cloak. Then I bent and examined the shattered shield that lay there as well. It was Eowyn's. And then, too, I saw a sword, bent and shattered. I fingered it, and realized that it, too was Eowyn's. I glanced back at her, and realized that she, Eowyn of Rohan, future Queen of Gondor, had slain the Witch King and his foul beast.

I bent down and touched the younger man's shoulder. He looked up at me, and I searched his face I often did. He understood my message without words, and nodded. Together, though I was sure that either of us could have done it without the other; I suppose that we just both wanted to do the job; we lifted Eowyn up above the people, and carried her into the city. Behind us, people carried the king in as well.

As I entered the city, I thought about what a shame it was that Eowyn had not lived to see this magnificent city. It was lovely. Giant stone pillars and arches graced the causeway, as we went up into the citadel itself. This would have been Eowyn's kingdom, had she lived. She would have been Queen of all of Gondor. I wondered if she thought of this as she rode through Gondor.

She would have made a great Queen of this city. It suited her well. It was white, just like her, and it was complex yet very simple. It was a true jewel, as they said. I wondered about the name though. I had thought that perhaps when I became King I would change it back to Minas Anor, for the war would be over by then. But would these people want to change their name? This city had guarded so many people, almost all of Middle-Earth, so what would the people's reactions be?

But it was not the time for that. I had to see to Eowyn's corpse. I shuddered to think of her body in such a way.

We finally reached the citadel. So many people were there, dead. I saw a man, his armor glittering in the sunlight that streamed in through a window. He was walking through the citadel with his head bowed, mourning for each of the men who fell.

We lay Eowyn down upon one cot, and then left to see to other men. Eomer sobbed over his sister and his uncle, as well as the other people he had lost. I simply went on with my duties, only realizing much later that I, too, had been crying.

As I entered the citadel, carrying some man I did not know, I spotted the man in the shining mail looking down upon Eowyn. Of course she would attract attention. She was the only woman who had fought in the battle. Besides, she had slain the Witch King, of course he did not know that; she would attract attention being man or woman, or even hobbit. Which made me realize that I had not yet seen Pippin. Surely he had not died. I thought of the look on poor Merry's face when he learned of his friend's death. Of course, it was doubtful that Merry would ever know. He would likely die in Rohan, when the Shadow came.

Suddenly, I sensed someone approaching me from behind. I spun around, my hand on the hilt of my sword.

The man behind me raised his hands in peace, and I realized that he was the man who had been mourning these people.

"Please, Milord, I mean no ill. I only wish to say that I noticed you carrying in the lady yonder. Perhaps 'twould ease your heart to know that you made a mistake. The lady is not dead, but she is in urgent need of healing. Take her to the Houses of Healing. There she will be well."

I did as he said. But my heart would not calm down. Eowyn was alive! Yet I feared she would not find the healing she needed at the Houses. She had the Black Breath upon her, and I doubted the ability of the healers. So, dressed in a cloak, I followed Gandalf to the Houses of Healing where he spoke to the man to whom I had spoken earlier, whom I had learned was none other than Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, and Eomer about Eowyn and the Steward of Gondor. Surprise shook me when I learned that Denethor was dead, and I was not sure whether to be relieved or sad. I had known him when I worked for his father, and I had found him to be an envious and suspicious soul. He knew who I was. He never betrayed me to his father, for which I was grateful, but I sensed that his reasons were more selfish than helpful. Instead, his son, not Boromir of course, but a different one, about which I had heard little, was now the Steward. But he, too, was wounded terribly. Then Imrahil asked after me, and I decided the time was right. I revealed myself, and urged them to use my true identity, and instead heed me as the Captain of the Dunedain.

Finally, we entered the Houses. I was eager to get to Eowyn, but ere I could reach her I came across the hobbit I had also been eager to see. There stood Pippin, all dressed up in the livery of the citadel, as though he was playing a game. We spoke briefly together, and then Gandalf lead me to Lord Faramir, to my disappointment. I wanted to see Eowyn again, to have her open her eyes and seem me, smile at me and tell me I was forgiven. But first I had to go to Faramir.

When I saw him, I was surprised. He resembled both his brother and his father in appearance, but as I studied him, I found him to resemble his mother much more strongly in some unnoticed way. I turned from the man and asked for athelas. Which seemed to be to be one of the few herbs they did not have. So I had to do with sitting there, calling Faramir back from Death as I awaited the athelas. Finally, a young boy raced into the room, babbling about the freshness of the herb. I could care less about the freshness, so long as I had some. But when I saw the boy's face when he looked upon Faramir, I pitied him. Perhaps the boy was the son of Faramir, though he did not resemble him. Perhaps he merely loved him as I had learned many had. Finally I was able to crush the herb in my hand and put it into the bowls of water. Again I called for Faramir in his mind, and this time he replied. He opened his eyes and looked upon me. He looked deep inside of me I felt. Yes, the boy had his mother's eyes with his father's keenness. His eyes were so expressive; I saw the wonder stirring in them, and the admiration. For whom? I wondered. Then the answer came back to me. For me. He admired me.

"My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?" he asked. I was startled in my mind, for he had read me more shrewdly than any ere had. But I kept my surprise from my face and answered, "Walk no more in shadows, but awake! You are weary. Rest a while, and take food, and be ready when I return."

He answered, but I did not hear him. Instead of replying to him, I said my apologies for leaving so soon, I think, I do not remember quite what I said, and left, knowing that Eowyn was next. O yes, Eowyn. For she was not yet gone from this life. She was not yet in the halls of Mandos. She was still in my grasp. I strode to her room, with Eomer trailing behind me. Finally, finally I reached my beloved's chamber. Again, I crushed the herb, and I used the herb-saturated water to bathe her brow.

"Eowyn, please wake, Eowyn, my love, wake and walk amongst the living once more!"

She did not respond to my pleas. However, I knew what I had to do. Eomer, her brother, had always been there for her. Perhaps Theodred would have been a better pick, but he was probably one of the men calling her to death. I placed her hand in her brother's, and said, "Call her!" Quickly, I left the room, for I could not see Eowyn responding, or not responding, when she would not to me. My hopes rested on Eomer, and I would learn soon enough whether my trust had failed or succeeded. Until the time was right, I went to my third patient: Merry. What he was doing here I did not know, nor did I want to at the moment. Pippin and Gandalf followed me into the room a little later. Pippin and Merry were happy together, finally. They were so lonely without each other.

As I left the room, I pondered upon the Steward. There was something to Faramir. Something more than I wanted there to be. As my grandfather foresaw my parent's fate, I could foresee mine. In some way yet unexpected, Faramir, son of Denethor, brother of Boromir, would provide an obstacle for me and something I held dear.

A/N: Next up: PART FOUR: FARAMIR.