Chapter eighteen: A Man So Changed
Aragorn lay awake long after she had fallen asleep, letting his mind wander aimlessly over the events of the past weeks. They had stayed in Rivendell for nearly a month before Lady Galadriel arrived and he had rejoiced in being among those whom he most loved. Soon though, all those who were to sail left the realm for the last time and he could still recall the grieved voices of the elves that lingered there at his father's leaving.
At Frodo's request, he and Saeorii had ridden with them. Aragorn could still remember his father's tears when they parted for the last time. Just as strong was his remembrance of Cirdan who had been brought to his knees by the return of Saeorii. He remembered plainly the tears of the old shipwright as he held his long lost child in his arms one last time before he sailed. The parting of Gandalf was no less painful to him than that of his father, and he had been deeply saddened to say goodbye to Frodo who was most dear to his heart. Yet, among all this sorrow there was a moment of joy immeasurable and he smiled to himself as he watched her sleeping safely at his side.
He stood watching the shadows across the sea lengthen and the setting sun turn the sea and the shore alike to gold. He did not turn at her noiseless footsteps as she came to stand at his side and he felt sorrow, wondering if this might be the last time she would do so. She seemed to sense his heartache and tenderly took his hand in hers. He turned and held her gently to him, as he continued to gaze out at the water behind her, a single tear finding a path down his aging face. She moved slightly, placing her hand gently over his heart as he pulled her closer still as if to keep her there and never let her leave.
"If wish you to go with Cirdan, if that is what is best," he began softly and sensed her listening to him intently, "I know that you were not given a choice in your marriage to me and it is not fair of me to ask that you stay here among men when you have felt so much pain. You are not of my kingdom and do them no misdeed by sailing. The people of Gondor love you and therefore they will understand your leaving." His voice was thick with tears as he continued, "I will miss you though, and both my heart and my halls shall seem dark and empty without your light."
She backed away from him slightly and he could not bring himself to look at her until her gentle hand guided his eyes to meet hers.
"Why should I sail from these shores, when the one who holds my heart is here," she asked him quietly and for a moment his mind did not comprehend the words that she had spoken, so simple and yet so true as to make his heart overflow with his love for her.
He reached out gently to touch her soft hair as she slept soundly; the stars twinkling above them were easily seen through the door to their tent that stood partly open. He knew that none would harm them for close by were those of the old kingdom, the Dunedain who were to become his first guard and council. They were beginning the journey back to Gondor for the winter months by way of Rohan. His heart yearned to see Eomer again and if possible mend the friendship that had been lost.
His attention was drawn to her once more as she sighed softly in her sleep. She seemed perfectly content and at ease here as she slept on soft pelts beneath a light blanket on the lonely plains of Rohan as the cold days of winter began. In his eyes none could compare with her beauty and gentle kindness and he could not believe that she was his for all of the years left to him, whether they be few or many, as Elrond had said.
He leaned closer unable to resist the urge to touch his lips to hers one last time before he began to seek illusive slumber. He was surprised when she stirred slightly as he kissed her lips lightly and was soon graced with the sight of her deep eyes as she looked up at him warmly. He smiled but did not move away as she blinked sleepily,
"Forgive me, Melleth, I did not mean to wake you," he whispered quietly as he looked down at his beautiful wife.
"Do not worry," she answered and her voice was enough to stir the deep undying desire for her within him and he leaned forward and kissed her again.
For moments he knew nothing but her as she tenderly returned his affections until he knew that he would not find sleep for some time. He kissed her once briefly as he rose and fastened the door to their tent before returning to her side. She smiled at him as she reached out and stroked the side of his face lovingly, unafraid and completely trusting of him as always as he pulled her closer and took her sweet lips in his own. He sighed deeply as he delighted in the smoothness of her skin and he drew her closer still as she allowed him to deftly undo the ties of her nightgown.
He backed away slightly and raised himself up on his arm and looked over at her as she lay on her back, watching him silently. Her shady eyes and pale skin were stunning against her dark hair that was splayed beneath her small form. Her lips were traced with a small smile as he looked at her adoringly and wondered what he had ever done to deserve such a treasure. She stretched out her slender arm towards him he took her hand and kissed it tenderly. She laughed softly and pushed herself closer to him so that he knew she could hear his heart beating strongly in his chest.
She reached up and pushed an unruly lock of his hair from his face endearingly and he was unmade by the simple tenderness of her gesture. He reached out and cupped the side of her face in his large hand and felt pleasure as she placed her own smaller hand over his. Slowly, he pulled her close, reading her movements, always aware of any fear but she showed none. He paused for a moment, his face mere inches from hers and looked into her eyes in the dim light of the moon that seeped through the tent.
"I love you," she murmured before kissing him delicately as she watched him with dark eyes for a moment before he leaned down and kissed her deeply, telling without words that he loved her above all else.
Ernin slowed his mount to a trot as he neared the tents. His breath came in frosty clouds as the steely sky above him threatened the first snow. The dawn was just breaking but it was not the cool air that made him shiver. He was afraid. He had heard the great legends of the Dunedain and knew that if they were truly what they were said to be that he was no match for even one of them. He knew his king was worried about the fact that the Riders of Eraidor were in the Riddermark but he did not understand why he had been the one elected to go and speak with them.
Despite the early hour, most in the camp seemed to be up and about and small fires dotted the plains. Their horses were not tied but had not strayed any farther than the brook that ran nearby. As he drew closer he could see the impressive shadows of these legendary warriors and reined in his mount and dropped to the ground as he reached the edge of their encampment and for a moment he froze. In the centre of all the tents was one much larger than all the others, in front of it blazed a large fire by which a fair elf and stout dwarf sat among many men the likes of which he had never seen before. Their faces, though full of grief and wisdom held a light much like the elf's and he now knew that those who spoke of their greatness had not lied.
In front of the tent a flag flew and his heart leapt in his throat as he realized that it was the white tree of Arnor and knew that meant that someone important from Gondor was among these men of the West. A man unlike the rest in stature and familiar to him joined those around the fire and laughed heartily at something said by the elf. It was Prince Faramir. It was none of these though that had caused his breath to shorten and his heart to race, it was she who stood among these great men.
Her face was radiant and unlike anything he had ever seen as she laughed and talked easily with these gruff men. He did not miss the look of deference they gave her nor the respect that was shown plainly in their eyes. Her dress was simple and did not reach the ground, and he could not miss her slight figure as she turned to greet a cloaked man who seemed to appear from the shadows. The others around the fire stood and bowed slightly at the man's appearance before taking their seats once more as the man pulled the breathtaking lady to him and kissed her tenderly.
"You there, halt!" Ernin froze as he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder. "Who are you?" the man demanded. It was some time before Ernin could find his voice but finally he answered.
"I have come from the King Eomer."
"Then I will take you to the one with whom you should speak."
The man let go of his arm, all anger gone from his voice as he led him towards the large fire. The cloaked man now sat on the ground, speaking animatedly to those who were there, the beautiful lady sitting at his side, her ebony hair pulled back slightly from her face to reveal delicate elven ears. He felt like the intruder he was as the man paused in the tale when he stepped into the light. For a moment he was almost sure that the lady seemed to shrink against the man, seeming to be afraid of him but that seemed strange to him considering the company she kept. All around him grew silent and he did not miss the fact that each bore a sword and that every hand now rested on the hilt. The man who had brought him bowed in the direction of Prince Faramir but he realized that it had been to the cloaked man that he had bowed when the man stood.
"I bring a messenger from King Eomer," his guide announced and he bowed slightly, somehow feeling it was right.
The cloaked man held out his calloused hand to him and the cloak he wore moved so that Ernin was able to see the mighty sword at his side. He swallowed the lump of fear in his throat as he held out his hand in return and realized that it seemed very small in comparison to the one that clasped his own. The man pulled back his hood to reveal noble features and piercing sterling eyes that held wisdom beyond what he had expected for the man did not appear to have lived forty years. His features were dark like the Dunedain with whom the man kept company but there was a light about him that reminded him of the fair elf who sat not far from where they now stood more than all the others.
"Well met," the man stated and his voice was deep and clear, startling Ernin slightly as he released his hand. "What tidings do you bring from your king?"
"I bring no tidings, my lord, only the request that you make known to him why it is you are here within our borders."
He sensed some of the men around him bristle as he spoke and wondered what he could have said to offend them. The man seemed to sense it too for he turned to them and spoke to them calmly.
"There is no need to feel anger, he means no harm. It is not an unreasonable request, you must remember that it has been many years since any here have been here to these plains."
One of the men laughed and called out,
"Since before your reckoning, young one."
The man before Ernin laughed and it was a deep and rich sound and Ernin found himself more at ease as those around him seemed to relax as well.
"Aye, but you must remember it has not been so long since he has been here, Garrin," commented Prince Faramir and the others laughed.
"Come and warm yourself by the fire, the morning is cold and you are chilled."
Ernin did not argue with the man and sat close to the roaring fire, sighing as his cold hands begin to feel warm again. The cloaked man did not leave him however, but sat at his side. Ernin was silent for some time before he dared speak.
"If I may ask, my lord, when were you last to Rohan, I do not remember your face."
"I do not mind at all, my friend, I was last here under the reign of King Theodan. I was here when Theodred was laid to rest and fought with both Theodan and Eomer in the battle for Helm's Deep. I am afraid though that it has been nearly two years since I was last here."
"You fought in Helm's Deep?" the man chuckled softly at his incredulous tone and Ernin blushed slightly.
"Aye, I did, as did Legolas and Gimli," he said pointing to the dwarf and the elf that had moved to sit by the beautiful lady who laughed softly as the pair argued over something that he could not hear.
"You are among those who are regarded as great within Rohan then for few returned from that battle I fear," he stated sadly remembering the death of both his brother and father.
"Aye, but that shadow has passed," the man stated wisely as large flakes of snow began to drift down slowly from the sky.
"Please," he began meekly, "I do not mean to seem rude but a storm is brewing and I wish to read the Golden Hall before the worst of it. What news may I take to my king?"
The man was quiet for some time as the voices around them continued but Ernin felt their eyes watching him carefully and he began to wonder who this man beside him could be. There was a greatness about him that made him feel as though he were in the presence of one of the Wise and yet there was a humility about him that made him feel strangely welcome here. He could not accurately describe the man but he knew that he had never met another man like him.
"Would you like something to eat?"
The soft voice of the beautiful lady startled him from his reverie as she bent forward timidly offering him a steaming bowl.
"Thank you, my lady," he answered her kindly and was rewarded with a shy smile before she turned to feed the others.
"I have no news for you to take to your king," the man stated finally, Ernin paused with his spoon partway to his mouth and looked at the man beside him. "You need not fear the storm either, for my company and I shall ride with you to the Golden Hall. It has been too long since I last saw Eomer," and Ernin was puzzled by the tinge of sadness in the man's voice as he spoke.
"When shall we leave," asked one of the men who sat nearby.
"As soon as things can be made ready, Haelin," the man answered.
"Of course, my liege."
Ernin was puzzled by the man's title but did not have time to question it before the man stood and entered the large tent into which the lady had gone only moments before. Ernin contented himself with the warm food and offered to help when he had finished. The elf smiled at him warmly and thanked him and so Ernin found himself tying tents and making the horses ready for these great riders. All the while he worked though, he watched these men. They spoke like nobles and were not gruff as it was said but they were strong and he had no doubt that they were much more skilled than he with a blade. Soon all was ready and it was then that he realized that he had not seen the cloaked man for some time. He was just about to ask one of the men when the elf called out to him and motioned that he should follow.
He walked quickly to catch up with the elf's light strides but soon walked at his side as he passed the rows of men, each wearing the grey cloaks of the Riders of Eraidor, fastened with the star of Westernesse.
"Please, where is the man who I spoke with before, I wish to thank him for his kindness."
"He is waiting for you," the elf told him warmly and Ernin stopped suddenly as they came to the endless rows of riders.
Two guards bore the flags of Gondor that snapped in the growing wind, the dark cloth easily seen through the white of the floating snow. Close beside them stood Prince Faramir and the dwarf, the elf went to stand beside them as the man he had sought walked towards him. He could not speak for no longer was this man a mere Ranger, but the King of Gondor himself. If he had doubted it, upon his brow blazed a silver crown and at his side the magnificent sword he had seen earlier. He swallowed hard for there was no mistaking who this man was or the lady who stood at his side. He was bewildered; where was the terrible king of Gondor of whom he had been told for surely this man was not he?
Eomer stood watching the first snow of the season drift slowly down from the endless sky above through the window to his throne room that had belonged to his uncle before him. He wandered aimlessly about the room; glad that his council had ended for as the afternoon wore on he grew more and more restless for reasons he could not understand. He wished that Ernin would return, he had looked for him at noon and already the dark sky was beginning to bring an early night.
He turned and looked at the room from the pavilion on which his throne sat. He longed again to be out, riding with the Rohirrim and surveying the borders, keeping those within the kingdom safe. He had never desired the crown and was there another who he could have passed it to he would have, but there was no one. His father and mother had died long years ago, his uncle and Theodred died only two years before. He longed again as he had nearly everyday since the foreign council nearly a year ago that Aragorn had not changed. The man had become like his father, but most importantly, his friend and he mourned his loss most of all for it was different. The others were beyond his reach, but he was forced to bear the knowledge that Aragorn dwelt nearby in Gondor and still he was lost.
He sat on his throne and rested his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his hands and wishing that he could ride to clear his head. There was a soft knock on the side door and he knew without asking that it would be his sister. Only she was his comfort in these days when it seemed that all had been lost to him. Only she knew of his pain when it seemed that his people were just beginning to live. He did not move to greet her but followed her soft footsteps to his side and sighed as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Do not grieve so, my brother," she instructed softly but he remained silent. "All is not lost as you seem to think. Your people are safe, they are well, they are happy. No longer does the shadow poison our land. Rohan is now what it has not been for years, but still your people need you."
"You would be better suited to the throne, my sister," he mumbled as he finally sat up and met her cornflower eyes. "Your strength would serve them well and your spirit is stronger than mine."
"Do not tell such lies," she told him sharply, obviously hoping to spark some sort of fire in him but he would not yield.
"I only speak the truth, Eowyn."
He was not struck with her sharp reply however, as the main doors flew open and a startled looking messenger raced towards him.
"King Eomer! Lady Eowyn!"
"What is it," they demanded in unison and Eomer let none of his own grief show as he walked swiftly towards the man.
"You must come quickly," the man stated and began to run from the throne room leaving Eomer and Eowyn no choice but to follow.
They followed the distraught messenger through the halls until finally they were outside and Eomer stopped.
"What was so important," demanded his sister as she came just a few steps behind but the sight before him left Eomer unable to answer.
Hundreds of riders were making their way towards the palace with great haste. Slightly before them rode two bearing flags of Gondor.
Eowyn's heart leapt into her mouth, as she stood unmoving beside her brother. She could not believe that he had come. She hoped that Eomer would tell them to leave and not return. Finally, the great company stopped, the foremost rider dismounting and running up the stairs towards them. Eowyn recognised him as Ernin and Eomer ran to meet him. They spoke quietly for some time and Eowyn looked down at the foremost riders. Among them she was pleased to see Legolas and Gimli but most of all Faramir who merely smiled and inclined his head to her when she caught his eye.
Eomer descended the stairs the rest of the way and moved towards Aragorn warily. However, it was not he that held the attention of Eowyn but the lady who sat at his side. She was reminded again, as she had been during her brief stay in Gondor what a beautiful creature the Queen was. Her skin was pale, her cheeks flushed by the cool air and her dark hair sparkled with snowflakes more beautiful than the slender silver crown she wore. Her dark eyes were enchanting and her dress fit her perfectly, clinging to her slender form until it reached her waist and then falling beautifully around her. She seemed not to belong to the realm of men but the dark cloak that trailed behind her bearing the white tree of Arnor proclaimed that she was.
Eowyn was startled when Aragorn dismounted and did not hear what was said between he and her brother before the two embraced heartily. Eowyn was stunned and raced down the steps, being sure to lift the edge of her dress so she would not trip. Once she reached them though she did not know what to say and so merely stood watching as Aragorn led her brother towards his wife. Aragorn offered the beautiful creature his hand and Eowyn was startled see the look of deep adoration in his silver eyes as he looked up at her. His actions were all that was gentle as he helped her down from her mount and put his arm around her protectively as he led her towards them.
Never had she seen a man so changed as Aragorn was. He was as he had been the first time that she met him. He stood tall, his silver eyes portraying wisdom and kindness. His voice was again strong and clear and she was again reminded of all the qualities that had drawn her to him in the first place. His wife seemed to seek refuge in his embrace and there was no sign that she feared the man who now held her with a tenderness that Eowyn admired. He looked up at her warily and Eowyn did not feel anger, as she would have thought. Instead she felt compassion and inclined her head respectfully as she smiled. This was the man she had looked for in Gondor, this was the King.
To be continued……
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Sierra
