Journey's End
Pairings: There are some book pairings.
Events: This fiction is one that follows the path of Rohan through the end of the War of the Ring. Beyond the end of the story, there are chapters concerning the first few years of the Fourth Age, after the passing of the Ringbearers into the West.
Disclaimer: J.R.R. Tolkien owns 'The Lord of the Rings' book series. Joss Whedon controls the world of Buffy. Peter Jackson and company own 'The Lord of the Rings' films. We only own a part of the plot.
Summary: Buffy is summoned to fulfill an oath before she can rest in peace.
In Gratitude: Thank you ever so much for your patience in the past four weeks. My time was well spent with my friends and family. As for the remainder of this story, I will hopefully have it posted by summer's end.
Jumping-jo - Well, she is about to get a few more choices that might cloud her judgment of being able to freely have the life she wants. In other words, no choice is ever easy.
Evilelvengoddess - well, we both thank you. I only hope the end of the story meets with your expectations!
Renna - A great time was had by all! I tried to time it so that I wouldn't take a month to update, because sometimes real life does interfere with the best of intentions. However, three weeks wasn't too terribly bad. Thank you for your review!
lil-saturn-goddess - Thank you.
Sukera - well, thank you!
Sparky24 - Buffy is going to have even more choices presented to her in this chapter. Basically, this all boils down to facing what the potentials were forced to face when given the chance to change their destiny. I found it a fitting tribute, really. Eowyn was technically stuck within the Houses of Healing in the books and I wanted to keep it at that. However, things are starting to change. Spring is most definitely in the air. As for the interaction between Frodo and Buffy,
there was a substantial piece removed to be placed into this chapter to give it some length. All in all, destinies are about to be made.
Lorency - You did not have to wait a month. I was only gone for approximately five days total. And a grand day and a half for the reunion. It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be, with children and all. A great time was had by all is all I can say!
FairyQuilan - Well, thank you for that comment. I hope you mean to say that you like her in the situations we keep dumping her into instead of the fact that we have warped her character so much you can hardly remember her true self.
Russa - Things returning to normal? I didn't know Middle-earth even had a normal period. I know I borrowed that scene from the extended version of the movie, but I did it to prove a point that no matter which race you are, you can all get along. Gimli was picked on because of his size, I think. Being someone short and somewhat stocky in nature, I can attest to that. I just wish that I could have used these minor characters a bit more, but that would have added complexities and when you have two writers, it can quite easily get out of hand. And yes, they are starting to realize their feelings for one another. I won't say who, because there are three couples in this chapter that will see the light at the end of the tunnel... finally.
Chapter Summary: Aragorn returns to Minas Tirith for the Return of the King. This is part one of a two part chapter featuring the returns of two Kings to their respective lands.
Chapter Warning: This chapter does contain a bit of dialogue from the book. I chose not to do the movie version because, in my mind, it didn't do this chapter justice. As for the next part, it is mostly entirely original. Both are quite long, too, so there is your warning. This was once a single chapter spanning nearly 30 pages before the editing process began. Welcome back to Minas Tirith, for the warriors have been surely missed.
x-x-x
Chapter 24
A Royal Welcome, Part I
By Alyson Kay and Katrina Claire
x-x-x
"Why do you linger here, my lady?"
Éowyn turned at the sound of the voice and found herself gazing upon the Steward. True, she did not have an answer for him. Her mind could think of a hundred possibilities, but not one of them came spoken from her heart. She lifted one shoulder and turned back to gazing over the gardens.
"Will you not answer?"
"I have none," she replied softly. It was the honest truth, she felt. She really had no answer for him. "I linger because I have not been bidden to leave."
"Would you leave the city given such a choice?" Faramir asked. Éowyn could have hit him. The amusement in his voice was all too clear.
"Nay," she said, a bit more harshly than she would have liked.
"It is obvious that the lady is upset with me," Faramir said, walking behind her and coming up to her opposite side. "What must I do to let her smile again?"
He watched as her eyes closed and, he thought sadly, the frost seemed to settle in, unbreakable and unimaginably cold. "I see no joy in departing this city," she said, her tone growing in intensity as she met his eyes. He was startled by the force of her gaze. He had once seen her as a pitiable creature, one desperate for a swift death in battle to be known for glory for all times. Now he saw her as someone he found himself wanting to spend even more time with, despite his tasks as Steward. "I see no joy in anything at all."
"May I speak plainly?" he asked.
"You may," she said, averting her gaze and staring out over the city one more.
"I knew in your heart when I met you that you loved the Lord Aragorn. To see him now would bring you no joy even in his earliest hours of victory," he began quietly. "For this reason and perhaps this alone, you will not leave this city."
"I would betray my thoughts if I said there was no other," Éowyn said, her chin dipping. Faramir's brow furrowed as he studied her movements. She seemed almost bashful around him. She had hidden nothing before him when he knew her best. To see her tuck away like a wayward child made him think she was concealing something from him. "But you are correct. I was ready to die on that battlefield, to have my name known and spoken through the ages. I was ready to die for Rohan."
"You are brave and loyal to your people and that is what I respect about you," he said, reaching out and placing his hand over hers. "I do mean what I said when I sent that letter, Éowyn. I have never seen you pity yourself and in my eyes I admire you all the more for it. Please tell me that my admiration is not for me alone."
Her gaze stayed with his until he caught the slightest motion, a shake of her blonde head. Turning her fair head, she glanced back over the city. "I have sought a new destiny," she said softly. "But that was not my answer. I have found myself wanting more. I have found myself wanting…" Her voice grew too soft for him to decipher her words. She shook her head again and glanced up at him, a slight smile coming to her face. His hand reached down and lovingly brushed her cheek.
"Now that is a face any man would love to remember," he said. Her eyes closed as he moved his hand across her forehead before pressing his lips to her brow. "I will leave you to your solitude."
Even as he stepped away, he heard her voice beckon to him after a few silent moments. "Don't."
"I have my duties to see to," he said, spreading his arms as though to remind her that he had a city to rebuild.
"Do I have a place in your duties?" she asked, moving towards him. With the sunlight burning behind her, she appeared to him as though an angel walking to him from above. He stretched out his hand to catch her cool grasp. "Do I not have your thoughts?"
"Every day my thoughts turn to you," he said, cradling her cold hands within his. "Every day I wish I had the courage to say what I long to. You are a valiant lady and were you the Queen of Gondor, as I know you wish you were… I would love you still."
Her smile widened. "Have I not told you that I no longer wish to remain a shieldmaiden? I want more than a life of broken glory and constant torment. I want to see a world renewed under a new spring, a new dawn. I want to walk amongst the greatest gardens and be with the one that calms my soul. I have no desire left to lose."
"I have nothing to give to you that would speak of renown and glory," he said, reaching out to stroke her face.
"I want you," she replied. He found himself gazing at her, as though seeing her for the first time. Had she truly found him to be worthy of her adoration? He was certainly enamored with her. He had loved her from the first moment he had seen her. And now, with that inner fire that drove him to respect her further, he felt as though he were the luckiest man in Arda.
"My heart sings for those words, for I have longed to hear them," he said, a bit breathlessly as he pulled her into his warm embrace. She smiled as she tipped her head to his shoulder, feeling as though this soaring sensation within would never falter. "I love you, my White Lady. If I can do anything for you, let me. If you wish to see your brother or your companion, I will gladly see that you go to the fields."
"No," she said, pulling back. Her face was glowing, as though the frost had melted and had given way to brilliant spring dew. "I will remain here until they return. I wish not to leave."
He had no words for her. Instead, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her beneath the sunlit sky and cared not for those that could see them, for many were standing about. They saw the light surrounding them and could feel their joy and, for awhile, some of the wounds of the city were cured.
Hand-in-hand, Faramir led the glowing Éowyn to the Warden and announced that she was cured. "Thank you for your care," she said, pressing her hand to the face of the kind Warden who had spent so much time looking after her. "But with your blessings, I would wish to remain here until my people return. This House has become to me of all dwellings the most blessed."
She sighed as she spoke those words. Buffy had told her to be happy and to live, because it was the hardest thing to do. She had found her happiness. She had only been looking in the wrong place. With the burden of a great untold destiny off of her shoulders, she could breathe freely and smile. Her frost had truly melted, leaving behind one beautiful glow. She only hoped that Buffy would take her own advice and cast off the burden of such a heavy fortune. She may have been a chosen one to save the world at one time or another, but in this world, there were many who were chosen to lead. She only hoped that Buffy would have the strength to follow such wisdom. After all, Éowyn surmised, Buffy would make an excellent sister and would truly bring a great pride to the Rohirrim and the people of Rohan. They would finally get their King and with that, a Queen unafraid to take chances and risk everything there was to risk for eternal peace.
The Warden nodded and gave his word and Éowyn remained amongst the Houses of Healing. But word soon was spread around the large city of the Steward's budding romance with the White Lady of Rohan, an untamed shieldmaiden who had captured his heart as none of Númenor could. And, as she heard the whispers, a smile would grow about her face. This was how it felt, she surmised as she continued to work hither and thither, a smile broadening her face. She refused to confirm or deny the rumors, but all that worked in the Houses of Healing could already tell the change was for the better.
x-x-x
There was a long line of horses and men that stretched beyond the usual line of sight. She clasped her arms around her knees and leaned back slightly, tipping her face away from the dying sunlight. Already, the forces were returning from what Aragorn had called 'destroying Mordor utterly'. Oh, she thought to herself as she continued to watch the forces come forth, these men and their obsessive use of adjectives.
She heard a slight rustle in the grasses next to her. She turned to see a small figure peeking out curiously, the top of his curling brown hair evident even at this distance. "I don't bite," she called by way of greeting.
She seemed to have startled the Halfling as he stumbled through the high grasses and approached her. "My lady," he said, quickly bowing his head.
"Oh, don't do that," she said, waving him off. "You might as well sit down. It has the best view, Frodo."
The young Hobbit took her advice and sat on her opposite side, his eyes widening as the horses drew nearer. "Do you suppose they finished what they had wanted to do?"
"I have no doubt," Buffy said dryly. "I think that man could move mountains if he wanted to. I think that's why he's the King."
Frodo glanced down at the soft grasses swaying around them. "Maybe that is what it is like to be someone chosen."
"As someone who was chosen, I'll agree," Buffy said. She wasn't looking at him, but for a moment, he saw her grimace. "Trust me. If we want something to happen, we'll find a way to make it happen. No matter what the cost."
Frodo seemed to remain silent, her words sinking in. After a moment, he added, "I can see why they trust you."
"Oh, because they all should trust the little blonde who drops in paradise in the middle of a war," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "No… you earn trust by stabbing the other guy with the pointy end of the sword."
"And yet no matter what happens, no matter how much they celebrate because you were the one to destroy what threatened to destroy all…" Frodo said quietly, his voice trailing off. "I did not ask for this."
"We never do," Buffy replied. "We're just picked out of the bunch, given a huge role and then when we complete it, bam… we get the second chance and we don't even know how to use it." She paused and glanced out at the riders fast approaching. "I don't even know if I want it."
"I know what I would want is peace," Frodo said, and it seemed that he had a problem getting the word out.
She gazed at him a long moment before continuing. "I'm not going to lie to you. I can't say that the world is right again and that evil is gone forever, because it never is. The good guys don't just walk off a battlefield at the end of the day, go home and everything is peachy again."
She could tell that Frodo did not understand some of her jargon. It was easy enough to see, she supposed. Frowning, she continued on. "At the end of the day, the warriors look out and they see what they did. They have to live with those consequences of taking a life. They have to live with the knowledge that instead of peace, they have war. And then they go home and try to pay for what they did, but they never can. They call it peace, but people like Freud were probably calling it madness. Oh, sure, the world has its peace. There's not a war. But inside, we're dying. We will always pay for the choices that we made, Frodo," she said, unconsciously grasping her bruised hand. Still, weeks after the final battle, it was a small scar she would likely carry for awhile before her skills allowed it to fully heal. If she were a normal woman, it would be with her the rest of her life. "We don't deserve to pay for them, but we do."
"I think I understand," he said uncertainly, reaching over to feel where the evil blade had gone into his abdomen. "I believe that this choice is one of the most painful of all."
She glanced at him and saw that he was feeling along the inside of his tunic top. She smiled in sympathy, but she refused to pity him. "Don't worry," she said comfortingly. "We'll have peace when we die. And when we have that peace, well… it's both inside and out."
Frodo nodded, indicating that he understood her. She turned her gaze and lowered herself onto the grass, pressing her hand to her eyes. She was so comfortable here that she was willing to sleep. All day long there had been men and women moving things to the boats docked at the shores of the Anduin. Now as the men returned, she knew that it was only a matter of a few days before they returned to Minas Tirith, where the remaining soldiers had been yammering on for days about the coming of the King and his coronation. She supposed it would be a cool thing to see. She hadn't exactly been conscious enough to see Princess Diana's coronation as she married Prince Charles, but that was so long ago she couldn't remember it. Now this, she thought to herself with satisfaction, is how the history book should have been written. If she'd known that these stupid wars had had so much… well, character, she would have been able to actually pass those classes.
After a long pause, he finally spoke up again. "There are many who say that you will be Queen," he said at last. It was though he was dying to ask her, but couldn't figure out how to say it. She lowered her hand and glanced at him, frowning.
"Why would they think that?" she asked curiously. It was interesting to know that the rumor hill hadn't shut down since they'd been there.
"You have spending much time with the King of Rohan," he said, giving her a calculating look as though trying to decipher her thoughts. She tilted her head and glanced at him as he spoke. He caught that look and smiled despite the glare that was sharpening her hazel eyes. "They can all see it. I cannot see why you do not. You would make a fine queen."
"Oh, right," she said slowly, hoisting herself up on her elbows. "And I suppose you heard about this from…"
"Merry," Frodo admitted.
"Merry," she deadpanned. "Oh, he is so…"
"Don't blame him for seeing what you cannot," Frodo said sternly. "He has done a great service to Rohan as have you. As he is my kin, I am indebted to your care for both him and Pippin." He paused. "Merry claimed he could see you speaking the night before the King left on his errands."
"Oh," she said darkly, remembering that night all too fondly. That conversation had been much too serious for her liking. While they were far from admitting their feelings, mainly because Buffy knew she had them but expressing them had become a whole lot more difficult, he had been going on and on about not coming back should something happen. She remembered telling him that nothing was going to happen because they had nothing left to kill. He had said she didn't understand. She told him she understood perfectly. It hadn't been a very romantic evening, she thought dryly. She was trying to figure out why Merry could have seen something that anyone with half a brain would clearly see as an argument between a King and his so-called counsel.
"There was another time," Frodo said gently. "It was some time before that."
"At the victory dance?" she asked, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. Well, duh, she thought to herself. Even an idiot with no brains could have seen that there was something between the King and his counsel. After all, he had silenced her at the most inopportune time, but in the moment, she hadn't exactly pushed him away. She admitted that part of her liked the attention, but dealing with the aftermath was far too cumbersome to worry about. She preferred her silent role in sitting on the sidelines.
"Well, yes…"
"And…?"
Frodo felt his eyes narrow as he surveyed the woman. She was definitely observant, this one. "Gandalf may have said something."
"I knew it."
She was observant. It was quite interesting to watch the emotions cross her face. "He seems to think you would make an excellent Queen. This is coming from the Wizard who said that I alone could carry a great Ring of power across the—"
"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, brushing the hair from her eyes. "He's a meddler and you know it."
"That is true," Frodo admitted.
Buffy threw him a triumphant smile before returning to gaze at the ships. "So… how long do you think it'll be till we get back to Gondor?"
"We are in Gondor, my lady," Frodo replied.
"Well, yeah, but… you know…"
"No, I do not," he replied. He was rather confused by the way she ordered words. From the hours they had spent together talking about their destinies; she was definitely not one of the normal women in this world. She was slightly taller than the average Hobbit and yet smaller than any man he had ever seen. She lacked the beard so calling her a Dwarf was not an option. He had seen firsthand the effects of calling her a Dwarf. Poor Pippin would likely never be the same.
"I know that many of you find it exciting to sit on this mound and drink to your heart's content at all, but I'm getting bored. I don't know about you, but I've been stuck here for a month. Sure I go on routine patrols. But can't we just shove the crown onto him, say see you later and just, you know… go? What would be so bad about that?"
"You have no idea how much we have to celebrate after thousands of years of turmoil," Frodo said, glancing at her in disbelief. From what he had been learning, she was an intelligent woman. She knew the skills and arts of fighting rather masterfully. Why was it so difficult for her to see how hard things had been? Sure, she had heard the stories. She had had a hard life. No one said that she didn't. But no one had said that their lives were easygoing either! "How hard is it for you to understand that after centuries a King has finally come forth to unite two nations that have not been brothers for over three thousand years?"
He had obviously angered her. He saw her draw in a single breath and watched her eyes narrow as she studied him before rolling over onto her side to face him. "Look," she said, smacking her hand into the grasses. "You may know everything that's been going on here, but I don't okay? I just got here about a blink of an eye ago. I don't need this. I didn't choose this. Where I come from, royalty isn't treated like some celebrity. They're the average Joe of our time. This is unlike anything that I have ever known… ever."
"Then maybe you do not understand," Frodo said quietly. "You say you pay for consequences…"
"Well, yeah," she said, gesturing to her surroundings. "You don't see a big bright light anywhere, do you? That was supposed to be my tunnel."
"Yet you have no idea what it would mean for these people to see you as Queen," he concluded. She shook her head slightly. "I pity your world."
Buffy snorted and dropped back onto the grasses. "You go ahead and pity it," she sighed as she pulled her hands to her eyes. "I had to go and save it."
"Were you not a leader amongst your people?"
"I was," she said, not moving. "At least, I used to be. But things get complicated. People make mistakes. And then I spend the rest of my life paying for their stupidity while I save the world. So the whole weight of the world thing? I've been there, done that. I so don't want to go through that again."
"Even if they asked you to?" he dared softly.
She pulled her hands away and stared into the sunlit sky. She didn't have an answer for him. Éomer she was sure she could turn down. They weren't close. Well, they had their moments, but as for the familiarity of seeing choices and reasoning, well… they didn't have that. Éowyn would be more difficult to say no to, she decided. But to know that there was a deep sense of attachment to her, well… it was the whole popularity thing all over again. She wasn't about to deny herself the benefits of being a war heroine. She was especially not going to just walk around miserable for the rest of her life, either. Éomer was a considerably generous man for giving her this chance. And despite her best efforts, it was proving to be more difficult to keep her distance. She was more than just a little attracted. She wasn't afraid to admit it. Hell, she wasn't afraid to admit anything.
Frodo got up and moved away sometime during her reverie. He watched as she began to sleep under the dying light and sighed. Just gazing at her face was a history lesson unto itself. He saw the bumps and bruises that still lingered despite the slayer's best efforts to heal herself. He had seen many falter under the greed to achieve more power. But not her. She wanted only for others what she had not taken for herself. No wonder the King liked her. No wonder his people respected her.
He heard a voice call out and glanced up. There was an Elf standing in the light over the woman and the look on his face was pensive. Frodo quickly bowed his head and ducked away. Obviously she was needed for something and far be it for him to intervene where he knew he was in over his head. Unlike her, he knew his boundaries.
But today, he thought, he had crossed that line.
x-x-x
"We're going tomorrow?"
Elladan was beginning to regret his favor to Aragorn to collect this human woman. He winced slightly as she strode beside him. His legs carried him further per step, yet she had no troubles keeping up with him. She had been asking him questions since he'd collected her. And she had had the nerve to act insulted because he had awakened her from her sleep!
"Yes," he said, quickly cutting off her path as he strode across to the grand tent fluttering on the next hill. She quickly paused and followed behind him.
"And you were going to tell me when?" she snapped, her tone irritated. Well, she had no idea how he felt.
"How much longer could you remain here before you felt the need to torture something?" he asked in response.
"You have a point," Buffy replied as they finally reached the tent.
"My lord," Elladan said by way of greeting as they ducked inside. Aragorn had his back to them and was pulling off his gloves.
"I heard you had a bit of fun without me," she said, folding her arms as the King turned to regard her.
"You were missed," he admitted, setting his gloves aside and tugging at his armor.
"Yeah, but, you know, I just had to sit this one out," she said, clearly stating that she wasn't very happy with this decision.
"It was not meant as an insult," Aragorn said quietly, bowing his head to Elladan who happily ducked outside of the tent. The tension had grown to near breaking point when she had stepped inside to face the man who had claimed, of all things, that this was a petty task beneath her. "Your hands were meant to slay foes and destroy armies, not to burn cities."
"Same difference," she said coolly, relaxing against one of the posts. "So… we're heading back to your city."
"It is not my city alone," Aragorn chided her. She rolled her eyes and remained there.
Remembering Frodo's words, she felt her lips twist. "I'm not being very respectful, am I?" she asked, moving towards him.
"I would never see you as having any reason to," he replied, turning towards his water bowl.
"You must think of me as some kind of idiot," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not uncivilized."
"No, you are not," he replied in his pleasant tone, glancing at her as he raised a glass to his lips. "But neither are you prepared to face the days to come."
"I'm getting etiquette lessons from the grubby stubbly guy now?" she asked, bemused.
"Not exactly," he said, his words faltering a bit. "I have asked my foster brothers to assist you. This is but one of the challenges you will face in the days to come. Gondor is one circumstance that you can crawl on all fours for all that matters to me. Rohan will be a new story altogether. They will expect you to act as Gandalf would."
"Oh, so grumpy old man…" she said, shrugging. "I'm not so sure I can pull that off."
Aragorn sighed as he gazed at her. "Do try and remember that this is the first peace these people have known in thousands of years, lady. Underneath your cold, slaying exterior is a woman who is afraid to act like she is." He reached out and took her face, which was twisting into another bemused expression. "It is time to show that you are more than the ice within. There is more to you than a soldier. If the King of Rohan can see it, many will. It is time to become the woman you were born to be."
"Gee, so much inspiration," she murmured. "You're good."
He released his hold and moved towards the back of the tent. She released a long breath. "All right," she said, surrendering her will. "Every now and then, I like to get dressed up and act pretty."
"There is more to you than 'pretty'," he replied, his back to her again. "I think this world is ready for remarkable."
It was late that night when Buffy at last returned to her tent, making sure that every last flap was sealed. She had no desire to be seen by anyone tonight, especially Gandalf or Aragorn. She was already in a foul mood as it was. It didn't help that Aragorn thought she needed to dress up for his coronation. Even with the ships taking them to Osgiliath, it would take a few days to get there. She was going to enjoy all of the attention, but she was beginning to wonder what waited for her in Rohan.
She was just turning her back to change into something more suitable for sleeping when she heard the tent flaps part behind her turned back. "Oh, I am so not in the mood to deal with this right now," she sighed, turning to face the front. "Please, just…"
"Did you wish for me to go?"
Despite her anger, Buffy felt a small smile grace her features. "No," she said, ushering the young King inside. He was a sight for her very sore eyes. "I'm glad to see you."
"Your demeanor would suggest otherwise," he said in a teasing tone as he sat on a bench near her bed. She turned and quickly wrapped her cloak around her shoulders as the cold wind rippled through her small tent.
"Well, until you say otherwise, I'm still your counsel. I still have a right to see my King," she teased in return, sitting on her bed. "But I am glad to see you. I've…" She spent a moment searching her brain for the right word. "I've missed you."
The surprise on his face was evident, even in the darkness. "This is new," he surmised, leaning back.
"I have had almost no one to talk to about anything other than 'yay, king' for the past two weeks," she said with a slight pout. "At least you're interesting."
Something of a smile suddenly flickered on his face. "This coronation will be the greatest affair in all the world," he said. "Surely you must see and respect that."
"I do," she said. "It's just that, well… I don't really know what happens here for a coronation. I just spent the entire evening walking around with a pack on my head."
She swore she saw him smirk as he glanced down, trying in vain to hide his laughter.
When he glanced up, he saw her irritated glare. "My apologies, my lady."
"Yeah," she said, shaking her head. "That's just great. You think it's so amusing… your little counsel gets to learn how to finally act like a lady. The first thing I'm going to do when I get my sword back is chop those fine Elvish necks off."
"I thought you were being taught to possess a gentler nature," Éomer protested.
"This is me you're talking to," she said, giving him a disbelieving look. "I'm not Sears."
"What is this Sears?" he asked her, puzzled.
"Never mind," she said, waving her hand slightly. "All I'm saying is… don't expect too much from me."
He leaned towards her, that glint in his eye maddening. "I would have you no other way," he admitted. "I like your nature the way it is."
"Maybe you should tell that to the grumpy king," she said, pouting slightly.
He reached out to push her hair from her face. "You will endure what is to come," he said. "You are resilient."
"Big words confuse me," she admitted. "Some counsel I've turned out to be."
"You will make a marvelous captain," he said, tilting his head to the side.
She paused, biting her lower lip. "As long as I'm not wearing a dress I'll be okay with it."
"Buffy, Buffy," he said with a sigh, his thumb moving down her cheek. "You make my life complicated for reasons I cannot begin to understand."
"If you say migraines, I will hit you," she said, her eyebrow lifting slightly.
He actually had the nerve to laugh as he looped his arms around her, drawing her into a warm, comforting hug. Buffy found her eyes closing as she rested her head upon his shoulder, inhaling that deep scent he almost always carried with him. As she remained there another minute, her thoughts zoned in to that. Since when had she identified a scent and since when did she find she appreciated it? He sort of smelled a cross between hay and leather and, for some reason, it appealed to her senses. She pressed her nose into his armor and inhaled deeply. Yes, it was definitely that fine scent. As she pulled back, he released her, looking more at ease.
"I hope that one day you will see me as I see you," he said, his fair eyes slightly sad as he pressed his hand to her cheek. "There is much to offer you if only you are willing."
She felt her breath catch in her throat and forced a small smile. She needed to get out of this situation now. "Thank you," she said, flashing him her smile.
She knew he cared for her, but lately those feelings had been changing with her absence. His army just wasn't the same without the blonde riding at its head, commanding the utmost respect. Her speeches left something to be desired, but maybe the Elves could assist her with that. If she were to become a captain in his royal guard, that was something only family could become. He only hoped that someday she could see herself as family, even if she were as close as a sister. He thought of her not as a sister, however. What he felt he couldn't describe, but it was both frightening and intriguing. She commanded both the respect of his soldiers and of himself. He knew he would always be able to count on her because she had never let him down in the months they had now had in one another's company. He bowed his head to her and, to his utmost surprise, she bowed back, grinning. She was teasing him and he knew it. He was beginning to get used to her humor. Slipping away from her tent, he headed into the night, but not before his departure caught the eye of others, further adding rumors to the never-ending mill that Rohan would soon have two leaders instead of only one.
x-x-x
It was on the fifth morning that Faramir came to collect his new lady. She was waiting for him at the gates of the Houses of Healing. In the distance, they could already see four riders coming near the city, announcing the arrival of the King. Aragorn's fleet had landed the morning before and after a long day in Osgiliath, they were finally making the journey west. She smoothed her gown, yet another from Faramir's vast collection, and took the arm of her new paramour. They talked quietly as they moved down the tiers, greeting those who came forth. But nearly everyone was making the long journey outside of the gates.
It was at this time that she saw the efforts Faramir had put into his job and, she thought with a proud smile, Aragorn would be very pleased.
Heralds had been sent to every corner of Gondor and beyond, announcing the return of the King. All who could make such a journey hastened to the city and soon the streets were overflowing once again. Trade and commerce began once the rubble had been cleared away. The sounds of laughter and children filled homes and birds flocked to the trees. The sun grew in strength day by day until all of their dreams were realized and their hope had been restored. For, it was on this day that King Elessar made his way to Minas Tirith.
Thousands upon thousands of people were gathered outside of the gates. Éowyn smiled at the familiar presence of the Rohirrim and felt the slightest flutter in her stomach. She was going to see her brother again this day and with him, her dearest friend. Her smile widened as she felt caught up in the excitement as they reached their final destination. All had gathered bearing their best clothes with banners of all shapes and sizes fluttering in the war breeze from the sea. The trumpets and flutes sounded as the dancers began once again and soon, Éowyn thought, these people would have their faith restored for good.
This had gone on for but an hour when a long line appeared on the horizon. Knowing that her people were amongst them, her smile glowed as Faramir reached for her hand and squeezed it. Giving him the resounding pat in return, she glanced out, waiting for those returning from war to come home at last.
x-x-x
It had been one hell of a long morning.
Buffy had been placed on a bench in Osgiliath, despite the dead city's appearance, it made for one crappy dressing room. She had been given her privacy though and she was ever grateful for that. But when she stepped over to the public for the first time, she could see the awe in their eyes. She felt herself smirking in her old, self-assured ways until she saw the amusement on Elladan's face. He was gazing at her as though he was looking at a ghost. He called her a soldier in formalwear but she basically called him Pointy Ears, which irked him to no end. But today she knew she appeared to be something else when she saw the amusement drift away. He even bowed and offered her an arm. He led her straight to Gandalf and the four Hobbits, who looked upon her with wonder.
"Now this is what living is worth," Gandalf said, obviously pleased with her appearance. He stood aside and gestured her forward. She felt her hand move to her hair. It felt heavy pulled and tugged on top of her head like that, but the two maidens had sworn they knew what they were doing. And she smelled light and fruity and now heavy and dank as the other fragrances she had tried.
Today, she almost felt like royalty.
The Rohirrim awaited her. King Éomer stood at the front of his column and gazed at her. She saw the double-take and tried not to laugh, knowing that she was pretty today. "My… my lady," he said, bowing to her.
She knew that if she returned it, her hair was going to topple from her head. She thought it best to just nod and smile.
And then their long walk began. Sador was obedient, even civil as they walked in their long, controlled columns of horses and men. She must have seen all of the flora in the valleys ahead and was at least trying to act decent and ladylike for a horse. It was as they neared the city did she gaze upon a flood of color and realized it was something other than flowers.
They were people. And there were many of them.
Thousands of people were facing towards each other, divided along the center. As they came upon the vast crowds, many bowed their heads and gave cries of greeting. Buffy felt herself being caught in all of the excitement as they rode on. Her feet were aching from the rather stupid sandal-like shoe as compared to her usual hearty boots. Her hair was starting to feel heavy and her face hurt from smiling so damned much, but still, she thought, it was exciting.
"Are you anxious?" Éomer asked her as they approached the main throng of people. As they were among the first in the long line, they were the first to halt. Aragorn rode forward with his closest guards and what she saw took her breath away. This man was truly a King.
"Just a little," she said to Éomer, turning to him with a smile. "Don't tell me you're not."
"If you believe that this is an occasion to feel anxious about," he said, dismounting with his usual flair. "Just wait until you get to Rohan."
She watched as he was called forward before gently drawing Sador to a halt. Éomer and Imrahil had detached themselves from their men and were moving forward along with a few others. It wasn't until Gandalf turned back and beckoned her forward did she gracefully slide from her mount and moved towards the others.
"This day is for you," Gandalf said once she had reached his side, "as well as for them. Recognize this and prepare for the party of a lifetime."
She was about to open her mouth to reply when a figure stepped forward. From his circle of Rangers, Aragorn stepped forward. Buffy felt a clog in her throat, remembering the Rangers that had died in the battle and were unable to see their King return to his throne. She blinked away any thoughts of sadness though at seeing the King step forward. And what an image he was! He was dressed in his dressy black chain mail and leather-like suit of armor with the white tree and seven stars. Behind him, clasped in the hands of his Dúnedain Rangers, was the black standard sewn for him by his beloved. He wore about him a cloak of pure white, so white that even Shadowfax was pale by comparison. A green jewel held the cloak at his throat and he indeed appeared Kingly as he stepped before them.
At length others went out to meet him. Buffy was very pleased to see that Éowyn was among those standing before the fallen gates to the city. She was dressed in a gown of gold and blue, her fair hair blowing in the great sea breeze. The others caught the look of wonder on her face as she stepped forward. Éomer stepped forward and gently clasped her shoulder with his hand. Her own moved up to cover his as her eyes looked upon the scene unfolding before them. Gandalf moved forward, an old man with his walking stick, towards Aragorn as a large black crate was moved out by four Gondorian guards.
The one Buffy recognized as Faramir met Aragorn in the middle between the two large groups and quickly knelt down upon his knee. "The last Steward of Gondor begs leave to surrender his office," he said, and in his hand he held out a white rod, which had been explained to her as the symbol of someone who only watched over the royal house but didn't exactly rule over it.
Aragorn took the rod and glanced at it before pushing it back into Faramir's hands, nearly knocking the man over. "That office has not ended," he replied in a loud, kingly voice. "It shall be thine and thy heirs as long as my line shall last. Do now thy office!"
Faramir rose then with a grateful smile, smoothed his cloak, and turned to his people and spoke in a loud, clear tone. "Men of Gondor, my brothers! Hear me now as the Steward of this realm! Here is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dúnedain of Arnor and Captain of the Host of West! In his hands he brings healing and from the north he comes to claim the throne. Shall he be named King and enter into the City?"
It seemed that a great roar spread through the crowd as the people began crying "Yes!" in one loud tone. Even the instruments sounded momentarily before Faramir held up his hand, silencing the dense crowd.
It was then that Buffy noticed the four men had set the casket down, allowing Faramir to crack it open and pull out a large crown. It was a stunning white, brilliant in the sunlit sky. He was saying a lot of other stuff, too, but little of it she understood. It was something about how a crown was placed on the head of the new King and something about this crown being the crown the last King wore before his death. Then Aragorn took the crown and held it up. His speech was vastly awaited by the entire crowd, but he didn't put it on. Instead, he started talking in what was obviously Elvish, since Legolas, the Elf nearest her, seemed to understand what he was saying. Gandalf stood before her, whispering silently under his breath the meaning of the words. Out of the GreatSea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.
"Those words were spoken by Elendil when he came from the Sea in the wind," Legolas said quietly from beside her. "He was the first of the line of Kings of Gondor back in the Second Age.
"Good to know," Buffy muttered under her breath.
Aragorn continued to hold the crown, but he didn't place it upon his head. Instead, he gave that back to Faramir as well and said, "By the labor and valor of many I have come into this inheritance. I wish to have the Ringbearer bring to me the crown and allow Mithrandir to set it upon my head for this, too, is his great victory."
Gandalf and Frodo suddenly became the center of all attention as Faramir turned back towards the swell of soldiers and called out, "May the Ringbearer and Mithrandir come forth!"
Frodo came forward and took the crown from Faramir and turned to give it to Gandalf. The Wizard took the crown and held it high as Aragorn bent down to one knee. Slowly, dramatically, Gandalf set the crown on top of Aragorn's head. "Now come the days of the King," he said, standing back and smiling down at the newly crowned King. "May they be blessed."
As Aragorn stood up, a loud roar spread through the crowd. The roar quickly dulled as he turned to face his people, walking towards them as Faramir closed the box, beaming. They gazed at him in amazement as he finally turned to face the Steward, who called out, "Behold the king!"
Then they started cheering. The instruments played and children came forward, jumping up and down and waving their arms. Men thrust their fists into the air and quickly the people swelled about him as he took in his new nation.
He quickly stood back and held out his arm, allowing Frodo and Gandalf to move forward. When the keeper of the keys stood aside, Aragorn passed into the city of Minas Tirith and Gondor once again had its King.
Buffy stood behind, watching as thousands of people struggled to push through the narrow gates and move into the city behind their King. She felt someone trying to direct her and realized that Éomer was still holding onto her. She allowed herself to be directed forward. From where she was standing, she could see level upon level of people following their King. She had a feeling that this was one celebration that would never end.
It was then that she heard someone calling her name. She lowered her gaze and lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the strong sun. Éowyn was moving towards them, beaming. By her side was the Steward Faramir, who released Éowyn's arm before joining the throng still attempting to move into the city. Éomer released Buffy and moved forward to embrace his sister. Buffy found her heart simply moved as she saw their exchange and found herself missing her own sister. She missed Dawn so much right now. She would have loved this.
Before she realized it, there was a stray tear running down her cheek. Éowyn noticed the other woman brushing the tear from her cheek as she gently nudged Éomer aside. For a moment, Merilin looked so sad. Éowyn, who had been granted a great gift of happiness, knew that she had it within herself to put a smile on Buffy's face. She looked absolutely stunning in her own gown of a shade of light green and blue. The sleeves were long and trailed frailly to the ground. It gleamed like silver in the sun, making her stand out rather nicely next to Gandalf.
"Merilin," she said, coming up to the smaller woman.
"It's Buffy," she said with a tremulous smile as she pulled her hand from her eyes. "It's good to see you."
Éowyn smiled at her and hugged the smaller woman. Buffy, caught up in her thoughts of her sister, felt herself return the hug woodenly before Éowyn pulled back. It was then that she saw a rather noticeable change. Éowyn, who had been bummed and rather sulky a little over a month ago, was now glowing. She radiated the sun's warmth, it seemed. Something seemed to have changed within her.
Bending down to the other woman's ear, Éowyn breathed, "The hardest thing in this world is to live in it… that is what you said to me."
Buffy looked at her in disbelief. "What?" she asked softly.
"But to live a life you thought you could only dream of… that is the happiest moment of all," Éowyn said with that small, joyous smile as she moved away.
"Huh?" Buffy asked, turning around to watch Éowyn join Faramir in the long walk towards the city. Shaking her head in puzzlement, she glanced over at Éomer, who looked as confused as she did. "What was that about?" she asked him.
"Of this I am uncertain," he replied, moving towards and then around her. "But we should hasten. If we wait too long, we will miss tonight's celebration."
"Whatever," Buffy said, feeling slightly grumpy as she followed him to stand in the swell.
It was nearly an hour before they even crossed underneath the gates of the great city and another hour before they finally reached the seventh tier. Once again, as they reached the top, they saw Faramir and Éowyn together once again. They were walking hand-in-hand, smiling at one another.
Buffy suddenly understood. "Oh," she said softly.
Éomer, on the other hand, looked rather embarrassed. "Perhaps we should…" His voice trailed off uncertainly.
"You really have no idea how to handle this, do you?" she asked, turning to grin up at him. "Do you have a lot to learn."
"It would appear that I do," he said, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed Faramir.
"Relax," she said, her small hand moving up his chest armor and resting beneath his chin. "Your sister is a big girl. She knows what she's doing. Besides…" She bit her lip as she glanced over at the couple's rather private moment. "It isn't as though you've been all chaste, either."
He blinked as he gazed into her open face. For some reason, he felt as though he were in too far over his head. "You do not have long to wait," he said, suddenly bringing his arm around her narrow shoulders and drawing her to him. She jumped slightly at his sudden movement, but her gaze turned almost sly as she gazed at him. "Our people have been talking about their King, as I have heard."
"So have I," she said, almost conversationally. "And they have the strangest idea that their King is going to get hitched."
He bent down so that his breath tickled her neck. "Their perceptions may not be as far removed as you may think," he whispered. He felt her stiffen in his arms, but he held on. "Rohan awaits you, my lady."
As she watched him walk away, she never really thought about how many meaning those two words had.
But she knew he was correct. Who knew what sort of reception she would receive in Rohan…
x-x-x
In Part two of this chapter… King Éomer returns to Rohan with both his sister and his counsel in tow. And does Rohan have a few surprises in store…