MAEday: They're my favorites too, and they do deserve each other. I was thinking about making this a little less-than-perfect, but I think it will end up that way no matter what I do, so I might do so, you'll just have to wait and see (hehehe)

EllowynTinuviel: As usual, your comments are very welcomed and appreciated. I'm glad that you liked what I did with Arwen. I had meant this to be a threesome, but I guess that chapter was rather necessary. Thank you! (write!)

Steelelf: I'm usually pretty merciful. Don't you fear.

Rebby-Eowyn: Thank you very much. Oirin was truly not intended to happen. He's sort of like Faramir in that way :-)

Telhyandowen: I went into mourning when you said that your stories were lost. I don't know how you get over things like that. Thank you so much for your encouraging comments. It is always nice to read them. As I said to Rebby-Eowyn, Oirin was way out there and not intended. But he turned out well. I shared your concerns about bringing Arwen in, but I liked the chapter in the end.

Someone to Catch My Tears

Part Seven: Aragorn

I woke breathing heavily. I knew why I had dreamed as I had dreamed. I also doubted that she remembered. Elves don't hold to dates as we do. Arwen always asked, "Why is one day more important than another? Why should I remember what happened twenty years ago today, and not last year tomorrow?"

Though my answer to her made sense to me, that there was nothing significant to her that happened tomorrow, when there was today, she still didn't understand.

"What if tomorrow the greatest hero of Arda was born?" she would ask.

"What if he was not?" I would reply. Yet it wouldn't make any difference. She would still insist that tomorrow MIGHT be as important as today, and today MIGHT be utterly insignificant in the long run.

I suppose it was true, too. March twenty-second. What was special about that day? Twenty-two days after my twentieth birthday, I returned to Rivendell. That was what was significant about that day. Yet, in the long run, it didn't matter. I would marry Eowyn, whether I had met Arwen or not. The question remained, however, would I have fulfilled my destiny as King of Gondor if I had not met Arwen?

Of course, that day was not entirely insignificant to me now, for that was the day I learned of my heritage. But was that enough to make it worth thinking about it.

I had dreamed of her. We were together again. I do not remember my dream, but I know it was of her. Perhaps it was a resurfacing memory, a flash of foresight, or a final contact over the great distances that stretched between us. Those distances that I so sorely felt, and she seemed to disregard as if they were two inches.

Again I wondered why she had abandoned me. What had made her change her mind? Would I ever understand? Or was it a question beyond my reaching. Perhaps it was merely a sudden whim upon which she acted. That was how it felt to me. But I knew Arwen better than that. She had thought about it. She had decided that she didn't want to live with me; she didn't want to live among men; she wanted to go to the Grey Havens; she didn't want me to be so dependant upon her.

I knew that the last reason was probably the main one. I knew that I had done everything for her, when I should have done it because that was who I was. I knew that I could not marry her until I was King of the United Kingdoms, so I set my heart about doing so. There were parts of my heart which begged me to forsaken this plight, but I could not.

Yet, I found it strange that I had had no difficulty being forever faithful to Arwen until the day she moved on. I never cast an eye on another woman, yet I could not resist Eowyn when she came to me. Yet only after Arwen was gone. I had known Eowyn before Arwen left my life, but I did not love her as she loved me. But now, I thought about her in my every waking moment.

But of whom do you think in your sleeping moments?

I would not answer that vile voice in my head, for it already knew the answer when it asked that sly and sharp question that was liable to open a thousand and one wounds all over again. I would not heed such a cruelly intended question, for I was stronger than that.

I looked out the tent flap, and realized, to my bitter relief, that it was nearly dawn. The men would rise soon, and we would continue on another treacherous day to our doom.

Yet, at least it would be day, when I could control my thoughts. In the presence of others, I had learned to almost completely void my mind of thought. Living with Elves will do that to you, as they can practically read minds. It was when I was alone in the dark that I feared most what my dark mind might think. Particularly in sleep, when I could not cut off a thought that had gone too far.

I heard a cough from Eomer's tent, and I knew that he too was readying himself for the day. I crossed over to the center of the tent circle and rekindled last night's fire. I started preparing to fix something warm to eat for the captains. The others made their own food over their own small fires.

Eomer joined me shortly. We were both grateful for the silence that surrounded us for the moment. Both of us thought our own thoughts, but we both knew upon which lady both of our thoughts lay.

It was not long, however, before our silences were broken by a small, breakfast craving, man. Pippin scurried over to join us at our fire, and his loud voice soon woke everyone in the camp. There was no more time to think. All the better.

The long day passed, and by the time we stopped for the night, I did not think I would have the strength within me to think that night. I did my best to exhaust myself beyond the point of exhaustion to ensure that this be the case. Yet, none can ever challenge fate, even with something as solid as fact. Logically, I would have passed out the moment I entered my tent that night, if not before, after the long day I had endured. But (and perhaps it would be fair to say "fatally," for this torture nearly killed me), I would not sleep that night. For fate defies logic, and indeed I did not fall asleep until many hours after I had lain down to sleep.

I thought of her. Of Arwen and of Eowyn. Who is "She?" Only one wiser than I in such matters could know. I did not understand my own heart, which is a dangerous fact. I did not doubt my love for Eowyn; I just doubted its nature. Did I truly love her as I said I did, or did I merely hope fore someone to take the place of Arwen? I did not truly believe myself to be that sort of person, but I did not understand why I had so willingly accepted Eowyn.

My heart told me that I had known all along that it was meant to be Eowyn, and that I had just refused to see it until I finally realized that Arwen didn't care, so I then opened my heart to my true love. But I had long since learned that the heart is a fickle thing, and the words that spring from it are like flowers in summer. They live out their time, and then they die. They cannot be trusted.

But one fact remained true. Eowyn and I needed each other. We were both lost causes, and we had turned to each other in our times of need. We had both been wounded painfully, and both been cured by each other. Why shouldn't we be in love? We had saved each other from a disaster unthinkable.

I decided that I would find a way, no matter what happened in the next few days, to return to my beloved, at least for the very end. Just so that she knew I loved her, and that I had not abandoned her. I refused to let myself consider that I had made this oath just so that I knew that I loved her. I decided that I would fall asleep, confident in my love for Eowyn.

The only concern was, when I imagined returning to her for the final hour, it was not Eowyn I saw in my mind's eye.

Nor was it Arwen, but another maid. One I had yet to lay eyes one in reality. So I told myself that it was my tired brain's manifestation of a woman. Perhaps this was what someone looked like that I had known long ago. I did not know. But I did not let myself think upon it any longer.

Instead, I focused myself on preparing for tomorrow. I don't know if fate became so bored of me and my boring subject of thought, or if I became so bored of myself and my boring subject of thought. But one way or another, I fell asleep soon after.

That night, I had another dream of Arwen. She was on a ship this time, and she was crying. "I was scared, Thorongil, I could not face it. The Shadow was too heavy," she said. I reached out my arms for her, wanting to hold her one last time. I wanted to protect her against her fears, but she shook her head. "Nay, I will not go to you, for it will only make the next parting harder. Aragorn, know that I am happy. Be happy yourself. Turn away from what we had. It will remain a good memory, but it can be nothing more, for we have nothing to bring us together now."

"What of our love?"

"Do you not see, Aragorn? Our love is for naught. Find your own love in your own time, for this was doomed from the beginning."

"So you say that they were all right? Our love was not strong enough to bring us together?"

"Not at all, it is just that your fate doomed our love. I could not fulfill that destiny for or with you. It was not in me to take on such a burden. It is your destiny, and you must carry it, but you cannot carry it because you have to. You had a choice; you made your choice. You made the right choice for the wrong reasons. Now you have to seek out why you are doing what you are doing. Once you can truly content yourself with what you have done and what you will do, then you can be happy. You'll see."

I didn't bother to reply. There was no reply I could make to that. I saw in the distance behind Arwen, there was a sailor that was standing and watching us. I wondered who he was, and what right he had to watch us like that. It was as though he was waiting.

Arwen slowly got farther from me, as I knew she would I let her go. I was too weary of this to fight it. Besides, I loved Eowyn now.

Eowyn!

I woke with a start, realizing that all that time I had forgotten about my love. I was arguing for another love, when I had my love right in front of me. I began to wonder if I'd ever heal.

I knew that that would be the last dream, at least this you. I dreamt of her this morning and this night, but now we had reached the twenty-third of March. I decided to sleep away the next few hours.

When I woke again, it was already late morning. When I exited my tent, the men were crouched around their fires, whispering. I caught snippets of the conversations. They were saying, "It is dark…. I don't know if we can face another day…The Shadow grows heavy…" Arwen's words suddenly came back to me. Those first words she had uttered in my dream. "I was scared; I could not face it. The Shadow was too heavy…" But I knew where I had heard those words. Finduilas had told them to me years ago. She was afraid of the coming darkness. Finduilas and I shared something special. We were the dearest friends at the time. She would hold me up, and I would hold her up. We supported each other no matter what. We fought off each others demons, and we comforted each other when the other one was sad. We were like brother and sister.

Of course, this did not sit well with Denethor, as I had already stolen his father's love, according to him. But he didn't stop us. He thought that Finduilas loved me, and he would do anything for her, she was so dear and beloved to him. So he became more distant from her, wanting to give her the room she needed, as she didn't seem to retain any of her past love for him. But he was wrong. She loved him and not me. We were just very close friends. We wouldn't dream of making such a mistake as becoming involved, even if we were both as single as the day we were born.

I stopped short in my tracks, realizing just who was so similar to the late stewardess.

Eowyn of Rohan.

They were so very similar. They cared for the same things, and distained the same things. Though Finduilas may not have been as wild-hearted as Eowyn, Eowyn herself was not as wild-hearted as many thought her. I had heard her whispering to herself, and I knew that the Shadow fill her too with dread.

But no, I know these things. I love Eowyn!

But I had already noted the similarities in both the women, and in my relationships with both of them. I was getting into a mess with Eowyn, and I knew it. I decided to break off the engagement when I returned to her.

If I return to her, I reminded myself sharply. I knew my chances, and I would not be misled by illusions.

I strode over to Eomer, Gandalf, and Pippin, trying to pry these thoughts from my mind. Instead of my heart, I focused on others. I decided that I would release the men who could not do this, without any shame upon them. Arwen and Finduilas's words haunted me, and they would not let go of me. I could not blame these men for being faint hearted in these words' presences.

Two more days passed.

We finally reached Mount Doom. Much is told of this tale, so I will not recount it in depth. I knew something then, though. I saw something in my future. I looked at the Orcs there, and the men there, and thought about who we all really were. It was then that I knew that there was something more to life than Arwen or Eowyn. There were other emotions that could sustain me besides love, upon which I had been sustained for so long. It was then that I truly saw hope.

But I still knew that I needed a queen. I could not rebuild Minas Tirith alone, and the men would be uncomfortable with my age. Few yet have the blood of Numenor in their veins, and those who do, do not herald it, for people are predisposed not to trust you. They will want me to have a wife and child as soon as possible. In fact, this would probably be the case if I were merely fifteen. Anything can happen, and a king has more enemies than anyone else in the country.

So who would my choice be? Would I wait a little longer, and then marry someone I didn't know?

No, for I still had Eowyn. She loved me, and I needed her, what was so wrong with pretending that I still loved her? Was it even a pretence? My mind told me yes, but my heart told me no. Or was it the opposite? I had never had to separate the two, in all of my eighty-eight years. How could I learn now? Even should I tell the difference, which voice was I to follow? My mother always said that I should follow my heart, but a heart has no logic. That's what the mind is good at. So shouldn't I logically follow my mind?

Mind, however, that these were not my thoughts on the battlefield. These were my musings from long rides to the battlefield. I was plagued by this ghost.

Yet, I knew in my heart that Faramir, the son of my dear Finduilas, was going to trample my hopes somehow. I recognized that I should not try to predict fate when there was such a wild card as Faramir. I knew utterly nothing about the boy, but I knew that he had a strength in him that I did not have. He knew what to say in those long moments that seem to never end. He knew what not to say in those long moments. He was natural at this kind of thing. I could read it in his eyes.

Yet, I remembered a conversation that I had had with his brother, Boromir. "Be wary of the shrewd," he said. "For they hide their truest and purest selves beneath layers of darkness and confusion."

I had asked him what had made him say that, and of whom he thought when he gave me such advice, though I thought that I already knew. Galadriel. He did not trust her. She reminded him of the darker parts of the people he knew. She was a constant reminder of anything outside of the at that time safe prison of the mind. There, when we were in Lothlorien, we could imagine that our families were alive and happy, just waiting for us to return, but one look into her eyes would dash all of that, for her eyes had acquired the watery elements of her Mirror. We knew when we looked into those beautiful, mysterious eyes, that not all was well. All was just as dark and gloomy as ever. Galadriel was the Queen of Darkness, robed in the Mantle of Light. For she had seen many things beyond our imaginations.

Indeed, Galadriel. He thought upon her when he spoke those words, that went without speaking, however, he also told me that he had thought upon his father and his mother and his brother. They claimed darkness as their hearts' abodes. They shrouded themselves with mystery, because they were afraid of what another would find should he look deep enough. They had a gift of sight similar to that of the Elves. This gift had turned against them, however, as they did not want other to see in them what they saw in others. Boromir told me how he remembered his father staring at his brother for hours, but he could not break down his son's mental defenses.

So, thus, I knew that perhaps Faramir was not natural at this type of thing. He pretended to be. I wondered deep down who he really was, for the man so puzzled me. Was he a liar as I had come to believe? A dark man with a dark past, who would go to any lengths to hide it? I could not see who he was, or what his past might have been, but I knew in my heart that he was different from what all knew of him.

I wondered if Faramir would be able to withstand Galadriel's eyes. I did not know him well enough then, but I can tell you now that he could. There is only one living being who can break into that mind without Faramir wishing it. Again, the name is that of Eowyn. She who could control thousands of lives just by looking at them, for her gaze commanded obedience. It was she who had captured the captain of Gondor's heart.

However, this I did not know at the time. I pondered him nearly as frequently as I pondered Eowyn and Arwen. Those were the three people who could and would change my life completely. Those were the three people, along with myself, who play the major roles in the story that my dear reader reads, and who have written it down in their own words so that others may truly understand our trials.

More than that, now we understand each other's trials, and why we did what we did. However, that is speaking of now, and not then, so I shall now beg the reader to allow me to return to the story.

My mind was blank when we reached the Fields of Cormallen. I attributed this to shock from defeating Sauron at last, with whom I had struggled for so long. But I knew that my brain had become numb because of the silent war that had been waged. Neither side had yet won, but the two thoughts seemed to have made a treaty, and I no longer suffered being a battlefield for their struggle.

Thus, I had a satisfying peace when I reached the fields. No confusion plagued me, and no doubt shrouded me. But soon, I again came to the struggle, for I did not know whether I should summon Eowyn or not. I did not know how I felt, and I did not want to mislead her. Though, I reasoned, I had already misled her by asking her to marry me. But that was of no matter now. I could still fix that if I decided that I should.

But soon, that dilemma was too solved, for Eomer summoned his sister himself. I did not have to blame myself for either lifting her hopes or dashing them without due reason. She would come for her brother, and I could take my time in judging what the best path would be for me to follow.

But, as usual, I was wrong. So very wrong. At first I feared that she was dead, and then I wondered if she had not received the letter. But then, perhaps she was not well enough to travel. Or maybe she had met someone else in the city…

This was the thought that began to plague me. I knew that if it was the case, and I had become convinced that it was, then she would leave me alone. For Eowyn had already proven herself uncaring to duties and promises. If it did not suit her heart, she would not obey.

Perhaps this was the right thing to do. It was an uncommon stance in life, to be sure, but perhaps it was not wrong. I knew that part of the reason why Arwen left was because she did not follow this idea, and she was a dutiful daughter. She did as she knew was expected of her, and even wanted it because it was what the others around her wanted.

But my dear Eowyn would do what she felt was right for her. For, as she thought, what would be the point in living life if you do not live it?

I knew that she was going to abandon me, and I know wished that I had never left the city. I knew I did not have a choice, but I still blamed myself. Perhaps it was the fault of my doubts of my own faithfulness. I knew that I had had those thoughts, for I have just filled up several pages of such doubts. I could not reconcile with myself what my feelings were before, but now they were as clear as day. I needed Eowyn. I needed her so much that I could not stand the idea of her not being with me. I waited with great impatience the moment that we would leave these fields and I could again gaze upon her. She had rescued me from the darkest time of my life, but now she threw me into turmoil at the thought of her infidelity.

I shouldn't have worried, but I hadn't a choice. I was so terrified of the prospect of seeing her every day in the city, and knowing that she was not mine. It was utterly horrifying to think of.

My only comfort was remembering how long she had stood by my side, even before I welcomed her there. I knew that she would not turn me away so easily, despite my fears that she would. I knew that I shouldn't worry. Yet I still did. Was there any reason for this? No. I would cease it, I told myself. So I did for the most part. For some reason, this worry was much easier to let go of than the previous one, probably because it was not the cause of so much guilt.

But sometimes, late at night, I would remember my mother telling me that the worst thing that you can think of will always happen, so never think of bad things. Would I be the cause of Eowyn turning me away? I told myself that I was being silly, and I would then fall asleep.

Yet, maybe I wasn't so silly after all.