A/N: The song the workers sing after burying the dead is loosely based on a Spiritual called "Soon One Morning."
- Aristophanes -
Chapter 44
Epilogue - Part 1 of 4
Aftermath
When Aragorn and the others finally reached the tent city, they found a milling mass of people waiting for them. The pale faces, some staring off into nothingness, the crying, the nausea and the purposeless wandering – all of these things were to be expected. For now that their goal had been realized, these gallant rebels had become the walking wounded - in shock, uncertain and frightened of what the future had in store for them.
That they had survived the day while their friends had not, was a mystery yet to be pondered. The close brushes on the battlefield as death had whispered in their ears, laughed, then had walked away, their first kill and the blood that did not seem to want to come off their hands - true living nightmares - and something they would all have to learn to deal with in the days to come.
Aragorn was still the leader the people trusted, and with the help of his brothers and Legolas, began "digging" in to try and give the lives of these faithful warriors some semblance of order. Now, less than a day after the ending of The Second Battle of the Camp, as the rebels ended up calling it, he and the others were walking the camp to better get an idea of what needed to be done and what supplies they had on hand that might meet the needs of the survivors.
Halgar and his assistants had been treating the wounded since the fighting had begun, but no matter how busy the young man was, or how tired he felt, he still had an encouraging smile for Aragorn whenever the young man stopped in the doorway of the healer's tent. With a nod to each other, Halgar returned to his wound stitching and Aragorn returned to his tour of the camp.
He put the twins in charge of food procurement, for there were many people to feed and the food resource they expected to have after the battle was over, was now laying somewhere near the bottom of a dark chasm underneath tons of stone. Aragorn's attention was turned away from the discussion between he, his brothers and Legolas when he heard a new voice speaking beside him.
"My Lord?"
Aragorn felt a tug at his sleeve and looking down saw a young woman, dirty faced and with the grime of battle still upon her, yet with a spark in her eyes that acknowledged that she was alive - and free.
"My lady? How may I assist you?"
"I am sorry for interrupting you, my Lord, but I think I can help with the food problem."
His interest piqued, he gave the young woman his full attention.
"I have just come from the western edge of the pit, and have found that the orchards and produce fields that stood on the western border of the city are mostly intact and I saw some of the bovines grazing in the forest." She looked down at her hands shyly. "I just thought you would want to know, my Lord."
Aragorn lifted her chin so he could look in her eyes.
"What is your name?"
"It is Edda, my Lord."
Aragorn smiled.
"Well, Lady Edda, I am putting you in charge of assembling able people to go do a quick harvest of the produce and gather as many of the grazing animals as you can and bring them back here." He looked at her earnestly. "Can you do this for me and then report back to one of us?" He indicated his brothers and Legolas.
The young woman bowed.
"Aye, my Lord. I can do anything - thanks to you."
Almost as an afterthought, she suddenly stood on her tiptoes and kissed Aragorn on the cheek before turning away and walking off, calling and pointing to people as she went.
Aragorn did not turn back to his brothers and Legolas right away, for he knew if he did that he would disgrace himself by bursting out in tears, and now was not the time for himself, for he needed to be strong for those who had yet to find a way to be strong for themselves. When he felt the comforting hands of his brothers and Legolas on his shoulders he patted them in acknowledgement, took a deep breath, then continued his tour.
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The Guards had escaped with only minor damage, the worst being suffered by the Silvan Guard, Súrion, who had spent the entire day of the battle with a Wainrider arrow in his side. It was only when they had been exiting the field after everything was over that Semoro had noticed the large stain on his friend's tunic, and when he and the other three Guards had looked, all had seen the broken off shaft of the arrow.
Anayah had found them soon after they had arrived back at the tent city and was now in the process of removing the arrow. However, each time she would touch the thing, the big Guard would wince and say "Ow." Anayah looked up at her friend with concern but when she saw the twinkle in his eye had just shook her head, and after tweaking his sensitive ear, continued on with what she was doing.
She did not see when Greyfell caught Rahan's attention and pointed to Anayah's back. As soon as she had finished stitching the "mighty war wound," as she called it, he scooped her up in his arms and immediately started walking towards the healer's tent. There was no amount of arguing, words, pleading, glaring or pouting that could make Rahan put her down and when they finally reached the tent and he had seated her on one of the cots, she had folded her arms and turned her head away from him.
When Halgar had walked up to them and asked what had happened, Rahan told them that Anayah's back wound probably needed stitching – again – for she had torn out every stitch that Greyfell had put in it after they had returned from the bluff. The young healer looked from the Captain, with his crossed arms and the look of determination in his eyes to Anayah, with crossed arms and the look of "stubbornness" in her eyes. He wanted to laugh at the situation but valued his life too much, so gathering what healing supplies he needed, sat in back of Anayah and looked at the healing sword slash.
"This doesn't look too bad, Anayah. I don't think it's going to need more than 150 to 200 stitches - at the most." He winked at Rahan over Anayah's head.
"WHAT!"
Anayah sprang to her feet and started backing away, holding the blanket to the front of her almost desperately. When she backed into Rahan who was refusing to move from his position in front of the door of the tent, she stopped, then seeing the look on his face, hung her head then went back to the bed and sat back down.
"I was jesting, my Lady." Halgar said as he prepared needle and thread for his work. "It is my opinion that if you start being a little kinder to yourself that you should be healed in only a short time. As to the stitches - you only need about 50."
"Oh." She looked at Rahan sullenly. "I guess that's alright then." She looked back over her shoulder. "This won't take long will it?"
When she received only silence and benign smiles in answer, she sighed.
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As the afternoon wore on, Halgar found himself looking towards the door of the tent more and more often. Lothur had not been far from either his mind or his heart, for the two of them had become quite close friends since they had first met. When the big human had not returned with the others after the end of the battle, and nobody he had asked had seen the man, Halgar had begun to get concerned. He wanted nothing more than to be able to go and search for his friend but knew he could not, for the injured and ill needed him, and their needs superceded his own. With a sad sigh, he returned his attention back to those inside the healer's tent.
"Hellooooo!"
Halgar's eyes widened, the flush of his excitement turning his cheeks a bright pink and almost sending his heart into spasms – he would know that voice anywhere. He spun just in time to have large arms thrown around him in a strong hug but when he tried to speak, and found he could not, the woman standing in front of him seemed to understand. The two just stood in front of each other, their eyes filled with tears of loss, understanding and the beginning of hope.
"Aunt Minore ..."
He gently kissed the forehead of his beloved Momma Cwén's only sister. Halgar was about to say more when the tent flap opened and a tall dark-haired human walked in. Minore looked from Halgar to Lothur and back again. She fully understood what Halgar was feeling, for she had heard Lothur explain how worried Halgar was going to be if he didn't get back to the tent city, so many times during the past day, that she had almost insisted that he go on ahead of their group. She had known that Lothur would keep his promise and take them back, but the big man had been a handful, and 6'5" of nerves was an extremely large handful.
Halgar had never had a close friend before because the nature of his position as Legend Keeper had made close friendships forbidden and impossible but now that he had a good friend, he meant to keep that friendship. The two clasped forearms then hugged as only brothers could.
After a few moments, Halgar felt his Aunt Minore's hand on his shoulder and turned to her.
"Halgar, your friend Lothur and I have a surprise for you – come." She motioned toward the door and Lothur raised the flap.
Halgar had seen many things since he had come to Hoth, both good and bad, and he had learned much. But nothing he had learned or had seen to this point in his life could have impacted him more, emotionally or physically, than what he saw when he exited the healer's tent.
There was a sea of familiar faces standing in front of the tent and with only a few exceptions, they were almost all there – the people of a small village named Hope. In truth, Halgar would later admit that when he first set eyes on his people that he had almost fainted and he may have actually hit the ground if Lothur had not quickly found something for him to sit on. He looked to Minore.
"Aunt Minore – how can this miracle be?"
Minore laid a gentle hand on Halgar's cheek then brushed the hair out of his eyes in a way only an Aunt could.
"We have learned much from you, Legend Keeper, including how to be resourceful." She smiled sadly. "We tried to keep track of each other and when news of the rebellion reached us, we started sneaking out of the city and have been living in the orchard and sometimes in the forest."
Minore reached out and gently caressed the heads of two of the younger children.
"The children keep talking about Cwén, Díriel and Ialassë helping them get away then seeing that they found the others." Minore looked at Halgar. "I know they are gone, Halgar, but how else could these children have been kept safe for us? None of us knew where they were being held."
While Lothur found warm blankets for the villagers from Hope then got each of them a warm bowl of nourishing soup and a cup of tea, Halgar and Minore worked side by side, tending the sick and injured. When the villagers had found each other, it had almost seemed like they had taken the first step back to peace of mind and spirit. But when they had found the children they had almost felt complete once more, although the finding was one of the many wonderful happenings that would never be fully explained or understood.
It had been a very good day.
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Aglarion had been working with Halgar since he had arrived in the tent city after making his "run" through the streets of Hoth. After the young man had had some time to catch his breath, he had volunteered to help Halgar in any way that he could and had been such an invaluable aid to the young healer that Halgar had begun to entertain thoughts for a possible future for the boy.
In Aglarion, Halgar saw something of himself when he had been the same age and Halgar knew that he might possibly have found someone to pass his knowledge and skills on to. For even though the oath and obligations of the Legend Keeper had been met, the knowledge and history of the last 3,000 years should never be lost and the skills he had should not go to waste, for if they did then the sacrifice of every Legend Keeper who had ever been, would be dishonored – and that was something that could not be allowed to happen.
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Aragorn had made it about half way through camp when he felt an arm go around his neck and a kiss was placed on his temple.
"And so ... how ya' doin'?"
Aragorn hugged her back.
"Little sister, you have far too much energy for me. By the way, my undying gratitude for that magnificent shot." He frowned when he saw Anayah blush and suddenly look away. "Sister, what have I said that distresses you?"
Anayah had to try twice before she could get the words out of her mouth.
"I was going to apologize for missing that shot, Estel. I know I should never make excuses but my arms were getting a little tired – I am truly sorry."
Aragorn walked a few more steps before stopping and facing his sister.
"I'm not understanding, Anayah. Why do you think you missed?" He frowned for he was truly curious why an archer with Anayah's skill level felt she had missed when the arrow had entered the target's forehead, dead center.
"She was aiming for his left eye." Greyfell said as he passed the group while carrying blankets to people who needed them. "Never knew an archer who could make such a fuss over two inches, especially when the shot was made under such deplorable conditions."
Anayah hid her eyes but could not hide her blushing face. Aragorn put his arms around his sister and hugged her tightly.
"Right eye, left eye or middle of the forehead – dead is dead Anayah – and I thank you for what you did."
Aragorn could see that Anayah was truly embarrassed about missing the shot but he also saw a look in her eyes that told him that she cared about him and would do it all again tomorrow, if necessary. When the two siblings finally parted company, each had a bit more bounce in their step.
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Elladan and Elrohir were helping Halgar and Minore care for the sick and injured. The compassion and gentleness of the twins inspired many to live and comforted others whose spirits had been so horribly bruised. It was not uncommon to find one or the other of the twins holding an unconscious human tenderly in their arms, rocking them soothingly and almost willing them to take a breath and then another.
Aragorn and Anayah were standing in the doorway of the tent watching the twins as they were comforting some people who were having trouble dealing with the horrors of the past few days.
"I see a lot of Ada in them." She said to her brother.
"I would certainly hope so."
There was a pause as Anayah thought about her brother's reply then turned to Aragorn and smacked him in the arm afterwhich he rubbed his arm with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Smart ass - and I'm not talking about Cyrano!"
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Anayah had been walking through the camp, helping where she could, and when she encountered parents who obviously needed a break, had volunteered to watch the young boy and his sister while the parents took a walk and stretched their legs. The children, also casualties of the great battle, sat quietly with their hands clasped together and sitting in their laps with only their eyes moving to look about them. To see the young and innocent so fearful and so diminished, was almost more than she could bear and she had to work hard to keep from crying in front of them. For too long had the youngest of the slaves been kept from the light. These children would truly have to be taught to smile again.
It wasn't but a short time later that a scream pierced the night and Anayah and others ran towards where the sound had come from, to give what aid they could. Everyone was saddened to see a woman screaming her grief, hunched over the body of her husband, her life-mate, who had just died from injuries suffered in the great battle. The wife's face was disfigured by her grief, twisted and wet from her tears, as she looked from face to face of those gathered round her, begging for them, for anyone, to tell her that it was not so, begging for someone to tell her that her Beloved was only sleeping.
Just beyond this tragic scene, Elladan and Elrohir stood forehead touching forehead, as they grieved for the man they had tried to save, silent tears sliding down their cheeks.
War. What is it good for? The night seemed to whisper.
"Absolutely nothing." Anayah answered quietly as she walked away, tears sparkling in her own eyes.
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When the sun had risen on their first full day of freedom, those who had the strength for such a task, met on what was left of the battlefield. They had come to tend the dead, to lay to rest their mortal remains. The workers split into two groups with one group starting on the western side of the pit and the other group starting on the eastern side. It had been agreed that they would work their way along the edges of the pit until they finally met on the southernmost point.
It was very difficult for even the stoutest heart to bury someone who looked like they were only sleeping, someone they had been living, eating and sometimes even laughing with, not that long before. There wasn't a soul on the field that day that didn't wish they could have done more for the dead than just dig a hole and place them in it.
Anayah, Greyfell and the Thurin Tirith stood at attention with their back to the pit at a midpoint between the two converging groups. Aragorn, Legolas, the twins and the others of their extended family stood next to the other workers. Finally, it was done and the last of the rebel bodies had been laid to rest. As the last shovel of soil was placed on the last grave, Anayah raised the hood of her cloak and covered her head in mourning.
The humans sat in the same two workgroups that they had spent the day in, silent and deep in remembrance for those who no longer walked among them. After a bit someone in the group of western workers began to sing a soulful song, a lullaby for the dead. It was a lullaby that had once belonged to field workers in a far away land but now as then, the song, soft and gently sung, spoke of what was in the hearts of all.
"Soon one morning. Death comes a-creeping into this place."
The voices of the western workers sang deep and low, grief plainly heard in every note of music and in every word.
"Soon one morning. Death comes a-creeping into this place."
The eastern workers answered the soulful song in kind, their voices echoing the depth of feeling of the other workers.
"Soon one morning. Death comes a-creeping into this place."
The two groups sang together.
"What shall I do, what shall I do, what shall I do?"
Heads were raised as another voice joined them, a voice that carried to the very fringes of the crowd gathered at the burial site. With tears streaming down her face, Anayah sang. The words had touched her heart and she knew that even though it was but a song they sang, the words were in everyone's heart as well as on their lips.
"You had better hush, hush, hush."
Both groups sang.
"Somebody's calling my name."
Anayah sang in a sultry voice that caught and held the meaning and emotion of the words and song until the reply had been made.
"Hush."
"Somebody's calling my name."
She once more sang.
"Hush."
"What shall I do, what shall I do, what shall I do?"
Was her reply.
The entire song was repeated one final time and just when the last note died away, so too the last ray of sun slipped behind the mountains. The workers sat for a few more moments in remembrance of those they had just laid to rest, then almost as one, rose and walked back towards the tent city.
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Though nobody among all those who had survived the battle would begrudge the Wainrider dead their final rest, there was not one among them who volunteered to stand the watch over those who would be laid to rest the next day. Nobody felt too bad about that fact for no matter the ill will involved, the bodies were only that, empty shells without life, and nobody was willing to risk life and limb by facing the creatures of the night for the empty shell of a person that had been intent on killing them not that long before. The dead could wait their turn.
The physical and psychological impact of the conflict was different for each person and was handled, each in its own way. Nobody would forget what happened but with the passing of time, the burden of grief would not seem so heavy.
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Rahan had been walking through the camp so that he could keep in touch with everything that was going on. He stopped at the door of the healer's tent and watched as Halgar held the hand of an unconscious man. A single tear rolled down the young man's cheek and Rahan frowned as he wondered how such a tender spirit was going to survive the full impact of what had happened. There was strength there, of that Rahan had no doubt, but he also saw a softer side, a vulnerability that yearned mightily for another soul to share his burden with.
When the young woman named Edda, finally walked up to Rahan and reported that she had finished her task in the orchards, the bovines had been secured and she was ready to help somewhere else, the bug of ingenuity bit the big Captain badly. With a small smile he pointed to the healer's tent.
"I think you are needed in there."
With a nod, Edda walked away toward the tent, disappearing inside. With a deep sigh and a smile, the Captain walked away.
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Returning to camp after the ceremony to honor the dead had been concluded, Anayah had been too unsettled to rest and so had just walked here and there in the camp, unable to settle her mind and attention on just what it was that had her feeling this way. As she was walking by a small stand of beautiful, fragrant pine trees, she heard a sound and when she finally found the source of the sound, wasn't really all that surprised - for she had been expecting this particular occurence much sooner.
Aragorn was sitting on the ground, knees drawn up and his forehead resting on them as he quietly sobbed. Anayah was amazed that her brother had held together as long as he had and sending a mental request in another direction then walked to her brother's side and knelt, wrapping her arms around him as he finally gave voice to his grief.
Perhaps if and when he finally took the crown and the throne as the King of Gondor and Arnor, many years in the future, he might then have the experience that could blunt the wounds to his heart so they wouldn't always feel like they were trying to tear his soul apart. Perhaps. But in the meantime, family would have to perform the tasks now, that time and experience would eventually take over.
She continued to rock her brother until finally his sobbing calmed and he started to loosen the death grip he had of her neck. When a warm blanket was placed around his shoulders to keep away the chill of the night and a hot cup of tea was waived under his nose, he finally looked up.
"I guess you two must have all the confidence in the world in a leader who can be found after a battle, crying his eyes out." He smiled sarcastically as he wiped the tears off his cheeks.
"I think we might have been more surprised if this hadn't happened." Legolas replied quietly as he put an arm around Aragorn's trembling shoulders.
Anayah encouraged her brother to take a sip of the hot tea as she tugged the blanket a little higher on his shoulders.
"I know the two of you have many manly things to talk about that females shouldn't be privy to so I will say one thing then leave. This battle was but one of many that you will face before you become king, Aragorn."
Her brother did not fail to notice the respectful use of his name.
"You will feel every arrow, every blow from sword and mace and you will grieve each life's passing. Just remember, my brother, that if you did not, then you would have already lost the battle, for when you forget to honor each life in even a small way, then you have become no better than a fool laying out in an empty field somewhere with an arrow sticking out of the middle of his forehead - bastard!"
When her brother and Legolas finally caught the meaning of what she had just said, they both laughed. Anayah kissed her brother's cheek.
"That's right, my brother, come back to the light where your family and friends wait to share your burden with you."
After kissing Legolas on the cheek, Anayah left so that the two brothers of the heart could try and demystify the meaning of life and death ... all in one night.
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When Anayah went to check on her injured Guards, she found both Semoro and Súrion sleeping soundly. When she checked their foreheads for fever, though slightly warm, as was to be expected, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Barring unforeseen circumstances, both Guards would probably feel much improved by the morning.
She was just about to leave when she saw something move near Súrion's chest. As she watched, a tiny nose started making its way from underneath the covers, followed by two large, brown eyes and two extremely large ears.
"Tinu! Are you keeping this big baby company?"
When the tiny baby audibly sighed and settled deeper into the covers, Anayah just sighed and shook her head. After pulling the blanket a bit higher on the elf's shoulders and giving him a kiss on the cheek, she rose then walked away.
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Anayah was finally beginning to feel the day catching up with her. Grabbing a blanket she found Greyfell and sat next to him and for a bit they both gazed up into the sky at the majesty of Ilúvatar's creation. The talked about the different constellations and the legends that went with them. When Greyfell asked a question but didn't receive and answer, he looked down and saw that Anayah had finally fallen asleep while leaning against his shoulder. The elf tucked the blanket securely around her shoulders then smiled as he continued looking up at the stars.
He felt someone watching him and when he looked up, saw Rahan, the Captain of Anayah's Guards gazing at him intently. Rahan walked a little closer.
"Captain Greyfell, walk with me, if you please."
The two elves walked a short distance away from the sleeping she-elf then turned to face each other.
"My elves and I think a lot of that little lady, Captain Greyfell. Please do not make the mistake of hurting her."
Greyfell's eyes began to snap with the intensity of his emotion and ire.
"I know that she saves her heart for another, though she will be the first to deny it. However, Captain Rahan, if friendship is all she will ever be able to give me, then in turn, I will be her best friend and staunchest ally until the end of all things and ever after, if Ilúvatar will allow it."
The elf turned and without another word, walked away from Rahan and back to where Anayah still slept. For a moment Rahan remained motionless - staring at the retreating elf.
"And perhaps a worthy ally and friend as well, Captain. Hm." Shaking his head, Rahan turned to walk away. "Yes, life is good."
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The early morning routine of the large encampment was in full swing and everybody was busy with one task or another when they heard a scream followed a few moments later by a set of elven twins running by the Guards and everybody else who had come to investigate the scream and possibly give aid. Not long after the twins had run by seeking the sanctuary of a far distant land, an extremely irritated she-elf with her sword in one hand and a harmless snake in the other hand also ran by.
When everyone looked at Rahan for either an explanation or instructions, he shook his head resignedly, adjusted his tunic, rolled his head to loosen his neck muscles and said, "Ah yes, as I have said upon more than one occasion - life is good." As he walked off everyone clearly heard him say, "Anayah, you do NOT have permission to hurt your brothers."
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Who was it that had called out to Isildur, that drew the shade from his tortured sleep? Was it a whisper from she who had first commissioned the creation of the Elendilmir? Through the great jewel, did the Lady see the need of Isildur's Heir as well as the people he was trying to help? Did the spirit within the heart of the jewel see the means for redemption, reconciliation and finally, a chance to go home - to a far green country where both she and he who wore her last could finally find peace as well as rest for their weary hearts?
Perhaps Isildur had been drawn to that field by the valor and courage of the worthy warriors who fought against overwhelming odds without guarantee that at the end of the day they would still draw breath. Who can say, for sure? One thing can be said with certainty and was said, before the battle even happened.
"These people will face the enemy and will neither flinch nor turn away, Legolas. They will not wonder whether or not they had the courage to stand there - but will know only that they did - and they will be a proud people because of that. They will know that they have done their best with a dignity they had thought long gone and beyond the realm of possibility - and that, my friend, will be most precious to them." (Aragorn to Legolas, previous to the battle.)
It had indeed been a very good day.
TBC
A/N: For those of you who did not get a chance to read Chapter 7, "Honoring the Dead," Cwén, Díriel and Ialassë were Halgar's Foster Mother, Foster Brother and biological sister, respectively, that gave their lives with seven others so the Legend Keeper could run to protect the secret kept by he and his predecessors for 3,000 years.
NEXT: Going Home, Epilogue Pt. 2 of 4