WARNING - LONG CHAPTER (3,750 words)

CHAPTER FORTY

The years past and Eldarion fell comfortably into the role of Prince Regent to Gondor, and the people loved him for it. He was as kind and as just a ruler as Aragorn and he had, as of yet, not had to chase anyone up for the tasks he asked them to complete, though he did begin to understand why exactly Aragorn and Faramir complained so much over the insane level of paperwork that needed to be carried out.

"Remind me Faramir," the young man had said one day four years after he had returned, resting his head on his arms after reading the report from a particular tedious Council meeting, the subject of which Eldarion couldn't, for the life of him, understand. "Why do we have scribes and a Council?"

"They are supposed to help with the running of Gondor," replied Faramir stacking the sheets of parchment in front of him.

"So I end with the paperwork how?" asked Eldarion rolling his head to one side so that he could look at the Steward and his surrogate father.

"You are Regent. The scribes may write a majority of the reports and letters that flow from the Citadel and the Council may help in the decision making but they all need royal approval," replied Faramir, uncapping his ink well and raking out a quill.

"I would rather be a ranger," muttered Eldarion as he straightened up again. Faramir chuckled.

"Even as a ranger you have to write field reports," he said.

"Ergh, bureaucracy gone mad!" muttered Eldarion, reluctantly turning his attention back to the parchment in front of him. "Warriors shouldn't have to deal with paperwork!" Faramir chuckled again and reached over to pull a report from under Eldarion's elbow.

"The one way in which you and Elboron will always differ," he said. Eldarion smiled.

"Then he can do my paperwork and I will happily train the novices," he said. Faramir shook his head.

"You would still have to read the reports," he said. Eldarion's response was to gaze longingly at the pile of papers and then the fire.

"Oh no," laughed Faramir, dipping his quill in the ink and setting it to the paper. "Your father would flay me alive!"

Slowly the years past, the summer of 25 and spring of 31 bringing news from Annúminas that Arwen had birthed Gwenel and Alphwen respectively. Eldarion travelled back to the northern city once, in order to celebrate his coming of age with his family rather than the 'stuffy lords of the court' as he so eloquently put it! Aragorn, along with varying family members, travelled back and forth between the two realms. When in Gondor however, Aragorn saw it as time off and tended to allow Eldarion the luxury of control.

Eldarion would forever remember the expression of disgust on Túnír's face up seeing the seven tiered city. "There are no open spaces!" he had declared in repulsion. Eldarion had simply laughed and explained that was why Ithilien was so appealing!

The winter of 34 brought the shock news that Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth had died of pneumonia after spending to long in the gardens on a particularly cold day. Faramir had been devastated, the last true link to his mother having been snatched from his grasp. Eldarion had ordered him to take a leave of absence and Éowyn, along with Díorn and Rosruin, had taken the grieving man to Dol Amroth while Elboron had stayed with Eldarion. The two Princes spent every night together for two weeks, Eldarion offering as much strength as he could to his companion as once again death paid a visit to the families of the Citadel.

Minas Tirith, July, FA38

Normally when Elfwine arrived in Minas Tirith or Ithilien, it was for a social visit – he was either bored in Rohan or was in need of escape from the temper tantrums of Eledher. He truly adored his little brother but there was only so many tantrums from the teenage Prince that he could take. This time however, he came before the Council, dressed in full armour and accompanied by four soldiers.

"I have never had you before this Council before," said Eldarion as he descended from the Throne, which he was still convinced he shouldn't using. For one he felt miles away from the people who sought his counsel and judgment, and for another it rightfully belonged to Aragorn.

"And I never thought it would be you I was approaching," said Elfwine, his gloved hand grasping Eldarion's bare forearm. "Alas, dark times are upon us again," said Elfwine. "Éomer, King, asks for aid."

"What's happened?" asked Eldarion.

"Dunlendings and Uruk-Hai," replied Elfwine. "Their numbers has mounted again and they have been attacking our border villages. Edoras has also been attacked though little damage was done other than partial destruction of the eastern wall."

"And you are seeking Gondor's help to fight your battles? Is it possible for the Sons of Eorl to fight any for their battle themselves?" asked a Council member.

"Rohan rode to the aide of Gondor during the War," replied Elfwine.

"So this is your way of asking for the debt to be repaid?" asked the councilman.

"What is done under a mutual treaty does not incur debt," replied Eldarion, signalling Elfwine to take a seat as he himself sat on the steps to the throne. "Karan!" he called.

A young page boy, with a shock of mahogany red hair, appeared at Eldarion's elbow. "Karan, can you find Lord Elboron? Ask him to appear before the Council on a matter of great importance."

"Yes my Lord," replied Karan and after a swift bow, darted from the room.

Five minutes later, Elboron appeared in the Throne Room, fresh from the training field and therefore not dressed suitably for his social station. His shirt was half open, mud and sweat stained his skin and his hair stuck out in wild angles. He stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight Elfwine in armour.

"What's happened?" he asked.

"Dunlendings and Uruks are attacking my people," replied Elfwine. "We need Gondor's help to repel their attacks."

"Your family?" asked Elboron.

"Mother is still in Dol Amroth and does not yet know of the troubles in our land. There is a messenger on his way. Father requested that Eledher go to her but he refuses and insists on being on the front line with Father and myself," replied Elfwine. Elboron groaned inwardly at that news while Eldarion nodded.

"Captain, how many warriors can we spare and still leave our own people protected?" he asked of Elboron. The elder started at the formal address but recovered himself.

"Two battalions can be summoned and ready to leave two mornings from now," replied Elboron. "Half the garrisons at Osgiliath and Cair Andros can be reassigned to protect Minas Tirith if the need arises."

"My Lord, may I speak?" said Pilimór, standing slowly from the table. His mind was not addled by age but being a soldier during the most violent part of the Ring War had played havoc with his joints; knees, hips and elbows in particular. Eldarion nodded his head. "Two battalions seems a little extreme. Prince Elfwine, what size is the Dunlending army?"

"From what we have seen, seven hundred strong, but they do not attack all at once. For that alone I am thankful," replied Elfwine.

"Might I suggest taking four companies?" said Pilimór.

"Three hundred men," replied Elboron. "With the Rohirrim, we should make equal numbers. And we can have three further companies held in reserve should things turn ill."

"A total of five-hundred-and-twenty-five men. I'll take my unit ahead as scouts," said Eldarion. Eldarion, though he was Regent and primarily responsible for filling Aragorn's role in Gondor, was also the leader of Gondor's elite force, who were the replacement for Faramir's rangers of Henneth Annûn. A hand picked group of warriors whose basic task was scouting, but they were highly trained and able to dispatch enemy soldiers without leaving to much trace. Eldarion's statement immediately caused a flurry of protests.

"My Lord, as Regent you have to stay within the City!" exclaimed Cúnír. Eldarion turned to him with a frown.

"I have a Steward," replied Eldarion, motioning to Faramir. "It is only if I have no one able to replace me that I would have to remain. As commander of the elite forces, I can hardly allow my men to fight whilst I sit here in luxury. Pilimór please, you do not have to be standing any longer." A number of protests continued to follow but Eldarion held up a hand for silence.

"Prince Elfwine, you have your men. Captain Elboron, you leave in two days," he said.

"Rohan is in your debt," said Elfwine with a grateful smile and held out his hand again.

"No debt, and do not thank us yet," said Eldarion, shaking the proffered limb. "Now, you must be tired from your journey. Would you like to rest first or would you prefer to eat?"

"Rest," replied Elfwine. Eldarion nodded.

"Will you join us for dinner?" he asked. Elfwine nodded and Elboron directed his cousin out of the room while Eldarion dismissed the Council before turning his attention to the throne above him as though seeking his father's approval. Little did he realise how much he was mimicking the behaviour of all new Stewards and a certain former Ranger Captain.

"Ready to pick up the mantle of Captain General?" asked Faramir, as he moved to Eldarion's side. Traditionally, the title of Captain General belonged to the heir to Gondor and was usually given upon their coming of age. That meant Eldarion. Said heir, while not objecting to the fact he had the title, felt like a fraud holding such an office.

"I have little battle experience and what I do have has been with the rangers. There is no way that I can command an army the size of which Elfwine needs," said Eldarion turning to face Faramir.

"You will be fine," said Faramir clasping Eldarion's shoulder. "Usually when you get into battle, there is little opportunity to dish out orders." Eldarion smiled weakly.

"It's getting them there in the first place?" he said. Faramir nodded.

"But you are a tactician so that should be no problem for you," he said. He gripped Eldarion's shoulder again before leaving him to his contemplations.

Eldarion and Díorn left the City the following morning, twenty of their unit in tow. The morning after that, five-hundred-and-twenty-five men rode out of Minas Tirith, three hundred headed, with Elboron and Elfwine, to Edoras and the others, under the command of Lieutenant Brégon, to Cair Andros to be held in reserve.

Those who could remember the War painfully watching as their champions rode at the head of the varying armies. True, neither were on the suicide ride on which Denethor had sent his son but it was still a battle. Floral tributes were thrown in the path of the riders only to be crushed seconds later by the hooves of three hundred horses.

The pace to Rohan was swift, the warriors stopping only at night and long enough to allow their horses rest. They carried nothing other than food rations and light blankets for night. Upon reaching Edoras, whose eastern wall was all but destroyed, they were gladly welcomed by Éomer.

Eldarion and his unit arrived two days after, having taken a detour via a few of the Dunlending settlements. A majority of the people they had seen were women and child but two of the encampments they found were predominately men, numbering around two-hundred-and-fifty, and they were all heavily armed. Unfortunately, these encampments were between four and six leagues from Edoras and the scouts found evidence that Uruk-Hai had been near as well.

Upon reporting this information to Éomer, who had looked more than a little concerned about the proximity of the opposing army to his people, Eldarion had apparently vanished.

"There you are!" exclaimed Elfwine as he and Elboron came across Eldarion sitting on the roof of one of the stables, gazing out over the Plains of Rohan. "What in the name of Valar are you doing up there!"

"Thinking," called back Eldarion.

"Painful," threw Elboron. Eldarion chuckled and decided against throwing some of the thatch at Elboron. Instead he slide down the slope and landed with catlike grace beside his friends.

"The thinking wasn't painful. The subject was," he said.

"Pre-battle nerves?" asked Elfwine.

"In a manner," replied Eldarion.

"Kalya?" said Elboron. Eldarion shook his head.

"I was wondering how many men we will be leading home. Will it be more or less than the number we bury?"

"More," said Elboron with such conviction that Eldarion was almost convinced.

"I am barely a Captain," replied Eldarion. "Let alone Captain General. I am used to leading two-dozen men as scouts. I cannot lead five score into battle."

It had been agreed that afternoon that only one hundred of the Gondorians would march into battle behind Eldarion, and yes it would be behind, whilst the another company would remain within close proximity of Edoras in case detachments of the enemy should attack the settlement and the rest would form a perimeter a league from Edoras. Eldarion was still not confident about leading the men, knowing that they only did so because of some inexplicable loyalty shown to him. As to why he received such adoration, Eldarion was completely in the dark. Yes he much preferred to mess around with the novices and older guards than the court, but that only made him seem more human, not some hero that should be worshiped and followed into death!

"It is who you are," said Elfwine, as they began to ascend the steps to the Golden Hall.

"By tradition only," replied Eldarion. "Elboron, you know these men, have helped train half of them! If you lead them into battle then they will have a chance of returning home."

"No," said Elboron, taking a guess as to what Eldarion was hinting at. "I will not take what is rightfully yours."

"You will not be taking it," replied Eldarion. "I am giving it to you."

"And I am giving it back," said Elboron. "I thank you for the confidence vote but I cannot usurp you."

"What would you have me do?" asked Eldarion. "I cannot lead one hundred men and hope to win this battle!"

"You manage well enough with leading Gondor in your father's stead," remarked Elfwine.

"The Council will not be killed if I make an error of judgment!" shot back Eldarion. "Elboron please. I will follow you into battle and I would lay my life on the line if it meant my people would be safe for another day."

"Don't say that!" hissed Elboron stopping short and turning Eldarion sharply to face him. Eldarion cocked his head, and his eyebrows raised when Elboron took hold of his hands.

"Please don't say things like that," he whispered raising the hand and clasping it to his chest. "I can't lose you."

"Which is why you have to take this station," murmured Eldarion, clasping his free hand to Elboron's shoulder, Elfwine temporarily forgotten. Elboron shook his head and dipped it so that their foreheads were resting against each other.

"Is this a bad time?" asked Eledher as he appeared from the Hall. The three elder warrior Princes glanced up at Eledher, who was the spitting image of his father.

"I wish you would join Mother in Dol Amroth," said Elfwine. Eledher shook his head.

"I will not run when there is battle to be fought. There is no glory to be found in hiding away with the women," replied Eledher.

"Do not go into battle looking for glory," warned Eldarion. "It will make you careless and all you will find is death."

"So you are an expert on this?" asked Eledher and Elfwine winced. Where Eledher's boorish manner had come from, no one was entirely sure. Éomer and Lothíriel both denied that it was from their blood.

"No. I have seen little battle and to be honest, I do not wish to see it again," replied Eldarion. "But I have seen what battle does to people and it is not pleasant."

"You want all the glory to yourself," said Eledher folding his arms. "Why else would the two heirs of Gondor ride to the aid of a provincial country like Rohan? Or are you simply here to clear the debt which Gondor owes to Rohan?"

"Eledher inside! Now!" barked Éomer as he exited the Hall. Eledher remained where he was.

"I will not tell you again," warned Éomer. Elfwine and Elboron moved and grabbed Eledher under the arms, pulling him backwards. Scowling at his father, Eledher was dragged back into the Hall, as Éomer settled beside Eldarion on the steps.

"We are not here to clear a debt," said Eldarion almost immediately. "Nor are we glory hunting."

"Gondor owes Rohan no debt," replied Éomer. "And you are already a champion among your people, what else could you achieve by entering battle?"

"I will not be a champion when we return," muttered Eldarion. Éomer cocked his head.

"Why not?"

"I am no battle leader," replied Eldarion. "You know yourself that leading a council meeting is different than being in battle. I have little to no experience and the one who does will not take the role because of tradition!"

"You need to have more confidence in yourself," said Éomer. "You are more of a leader than you give yourself credit for. Remember whose blood you share."

As Éomer spoke, the fingers of Eldarion's left hand made contact with the faint scar across his right palm and he allowed a small smile to form. His blood oath with Elboron wasn't the connection Éomer had in mind when he spoke but it was one which bore the greater meaning for Eldarion.

"He will give me strength," he muttered, still gently tracing the scar across his palm.

"You need sleep Eldarion. Whether battle comes knocking on our door tomorrow or not."

Dreamscape

Courage has always been the best form of defence, pen dithen, said Lórien as he crouched in front of Eldarion who was idly rolling his Mithril ring between his fingers. little one

"But not always that easy to find," replied Eldarion without looking up.

You are simply looking in the wrong place, replied Lórien. As the Rohirric King said, you are more of a leader than you give yourself credit for.

"Have you been spying on me?" asked Eldarion, his head shooting up. Lórien chuckled.

Pen dithen, as the chief guardian of your line, it is my duty to know what you get up to, he said. little one

"So you will be watching when we go into battle?" asked Eldarion.

Yes, but before you ask, no I cannot save those who fall. When your world was but a note in Ilúvatar's song, the Valar swore not to directly interfere with the goings on. How else did the Ring of Power manage to survive for so long?

"So what is the point of being a guardian then!" snapped Eldarion.

To ensure that the line of your forefathers does not wither and die, replied Lórien. I am bending the rules even by talking to you on such a intimate basis to give you hope for the future. But I have taken a liking to you and I deem you worthy of a lecture from my brother.

"I think there was a compliment in there somewhere," smiled Eldarion slipping the ring back over his head.

There was, said Lórien. Eldarion, fear not for the decisions you make. I will not lie and say that all will be well for I respect you too much to offer you such false hope, but I will give you one piece of advise; trust your instincts. They will lead you along the right path, though sometimes other options seem more appealing.

As they marched towards battle, Eldarion kept running over the words of Lórien. fear not the decisions you make…….trust your instincts …… I cannot save those who fall

'Please protect them,' whispered Eldarion, casting a look back at his soldiers and briefly making eye contact with Díorn. 'Take me before you take them.'

'Do not strike such deals!' hissed Elboron, who was still a little unnerved by Eldarion's declaration that he would willingly give up his life in return for another day for those he loved. Eldarion smiled weakly in his direction.

'It is willingly struck Elboron. If it is a choice, I would rather Námo take me to his halls than any of you.'

'Then I pray it will not come down to such a decision!' replied Elboron.

Eldarion had not lied to Eledher - battle was not glorious. It was brutal and violent. Red and black blood mingled with the green earth, cries of anger and pain rent the copper-tang air. Uruks and Men met on the plains of south Rohan in a fight whose violence had not been seen since the twilight years of the third age.

Elboron and Eldarion fought back to back as did Éomer and Gamling. Eledher and Elfwine were separated and it was probably just as well. Elfwine was a methodical fighter, moving around the field as though caught up in some energetic dance, making sure that he defended both his front and back. Eledher however was erratic, lashing out at anything that moved but not moving from his position, making him an excellent target, especially when arrows began to fly. The attention of the warriors was diverted as they sought to fight both enemies.

"Eledher move! You are a target!" yelled Elboron, raising his shield to block another arrow before stabbing an Uruk that was charging towards him with a scimitar raised. Eledher gave no indication that he had heard his cousin and continued to lash out randomly, the crowd around him thinning as the warriors bunched together for protection. Snarling at the disrespect of authority, Eldarion charged towards Eledher, Rosruin quickly moving to cover Elboron's now exposed back as Díorn ran after Eldarion.

"Move!" Eldarion hissed and grabbed Eledher's arm. He made to pull the teenager back into the middle of the group where he would not be an obvious target for the archers, when a tell tale sound of flying arrows was heard behind them.

A shout went up.

Two bodies hit to the ground.