Chapter Fifteen - Another Day, Another Path
"We have to make our own way to Gondor," said Aragorn four hours after Pippin's departure.
"I thought that's what Théoden agreed to do," said Halbarad as he sat sharpening his sword. "Once he receives a signal from Gondor, he and his men will ride."
"We must leave sooner," said Aragorn. "It is time for us to part company with the Rohirrim."
"And go where?" asked Dídauar, resting her head against the wall behind her.
"When first you arrived in Rohan, Elladan gave me a message from Lord Elrond. He bid me remember the words of the Seer," replied Aragorn. Dídauar sat bolt upright.
"Paths of the Dead?" she asked. Aragorn nodded.
"None have ever returned from the Dimholt road," exclaimed Dídauar in alarm.
"I do not intend to return," said Aragorn. Dídauar's eyes went wide. "Once I start upon that path, I will have no choice but to continue forward, whether to victory or my death I do not know."
"Most likely your death if you call traitors to your ranks," muttered Halbarad, now searching around for his cleaning rag.
"Is there no other way?" she begged. Aragorn shook his head.
"Even should every Rohirrim able to ride was to answer Théoden's call, they would not be enough. If Boromir spoke true then the Gondorians are spread too thin as well. We have no other choice but to call upon the forgotten warriors," he replied.
"What do you propose to tell Merry?" Dídauar asked. "Most Men do not have the heart to pass through the Door, a young Halfling will certainly not survive."
"Merry has more courage than even he is aware of," said Aragorn. "But you are right, the Paths of the Dead are no place to take an innocent. It will best if he stays in Rohan."
"I will go and speak with Théoden," said Dídauar standing up. "Then I have some old friends to visit, do not expect me for a few hours."
Aragorn and Halbarad watched her go, an odd look shining in Aragorn's eye. He turned to Halbarad.
"She is hiding something," he said. Halbarad cocked his head.
"She is?" he asked.
"What was her vision?" asked Aragorn. "She has not spoken of it, yet for it to be sent it must be important."
"Battle by a golden city. Thousands of dead, a burning tree, a figure and a red tower falling," replied Halbarad, recalling what Tarcil had told him as he watched over Aragorn. "Tarcil and Théoden think the city is Minas Tirith and that the dead have no faces because she is not supposed to help any of them. Other than that, they don't understand."
Aragorn sat mulling over the information for the next half an hour muttering to himself and tracing patterns on the table before him as he thought. Dídauar was known for making off the cuff gestures and seemingly irrational decisions but there was always a reason, even if it wasn't understood initially. Now however, Aragorn was at a loss as to what his sister was doing. The charms she had given Pippin had rarely left her neck from the moment she was given them, the memory of the two who had gifted them being to precious for her to lose. He clearly remembered an occasion when they had been removed because Elrond had needed to treat an swipe to the curve of her neck and the thong was in way. Dídauar had panicked and then, once the charms were returned, reprimanded Elrond in a way similar to how she dressed down a disobedient soldier. It simply did not make sense for her to give them away to the Hobbit when there was very little chance that she would see them returned.
Eventually, having gotten nowhere with the sketchy details of the vision, and the seeming disjointed actions of Dídauar, Aragorn stood up.
"I'm going to find her," he said tracing Dídauar's footsteps. Halbarad raised an eyebrow.
"What have I missed?" he asked to his deserted surroundings.
"Kalya!" called Aragorn as he hurried after the retreating back of his sister. Dídauar, who was heading down the steps towards the memorial garden of Helm's Deep, stopped and turning, canted her head in question.
"Are you alright?" she asked when Aragorn reached her side.
"No," replied Aragorn before taking Dídauar's arm and dragging her into the nearest alcove.
"What has you so flustered?" asked Dídauar once she had found herself deposited on a stone shelf.
"What did you See?" demanded Aragorn. "Why did you give Pippin your charms with the explicit instruction that they were to be given to Denethor?"
"Because they are unique and unless Denethor's memory has been addled he will recognise them," said Dídauar. "I sent them as a sign of hope and promise of help."
"There is little use in promising what you cannot deliver," replied Aragorn. "Did Denethor not say that he would have you thrown in jail should you attempt to contact his family again?"
"And you will be allowed to simply ride through the Gate?" demanded Dídauar. "I was not the one who willingly abandoned his friend!"
"What did you See?" asked Aragorn, bringing the conversation back to its original starting point.
"Surely Halbarad has already told you," replied Dídauar.
"He told me a brief outline. Kalya you have never been this defensive about a vision before. What did you See?" asked Aragorn, taking a seat.
"A golden city, which I believe to be Minas Tirith. Even more so, given what Mithrandir and Boromir have said," said Dídauar. "Thousands of dead bearing no face. They represent a nation. A red cloak, which is the banner of the Haradrim."
"Halbarad also spoke of a burning tree," said Aragorn. "Also a falling figure and collapsing tower. What do they mean?" asked Aragorn. Dídauar shook her head, biting her lip as she did so.
"Kalya who are they?" prodded Aragorn. Dídauar refused to speak but her gaze had become fixed on the spot where Orophin had been killed.
"Haldir?" he asked. Dídauar bit back a sob and nodded. Aragorn's breathing hitched when he identified the second casualty.
"Halbarad?" he whispered. This time Dídauar couldn't suppress the sob. Aragorn reached out and pulled Dídauar to him, wrapping one arm around her chest and cradling her head against his shoulder with the other, thinking over what else had been shown, namely The White Tree of Gondor. The Tree had been tied to the life of the Ruler of Gondor for as long as records existed. To have it burning was definitely not a good sign and could only mean that either their lives, or the lives of the Steward was in grave danger. Believing it unlikely that Dídauar would have so calmly accepted the fate of her twin, or have been given a glimpse of her own fate, Aragorn's mind turned the family of Húrin. Boromir and Finduilas were already dead, which ruled them out as the casualty. From what Boromir had said on the quest, Denethor was becoming increasing secluded which would make it harder for him to be a victim, though not impossible. A final name, which was attached to an as yet unknown Captain floated around the elder twins mind and though he was loath to cause Dídauar any further pain, he spoke it.
"Faramir?"
Dídauar's last emotional defence collapsed at her feet and she clung desperately to Aragorn as she sobbed into his shoulder. Aragorn held his sister tightly as the emotional storm swept through her, silently pleased (and hating himself for it) that Dídauar had finally broken. Dídauar allowed very few people to see behind the mask of Dúnedain Captain and allowed even fewer to her heart. It was an emotional defence she had developed early in childhood to prevent betrayal. The young and innocent had a knack of chipping away at that defence and though even they rarely penetrated, Dídauar would fight to protect them with everything she had irrespective of the fact that one day it may cost her life or whether the defended knew of her actions. The small number of those she trusted completely and loved unconditionally was slowly being reduced while all she could do was watch, each death bringing her more and more pain because of it.
"We will protect them," whispered Aragorn. "Rúmil and Celeborn will hold Haldir to this world. Halbarad will be guarded by our people and Faramir will be watched like a hawk by his if Boromir's tales are to be believed."
"It won't be enough," sobbed Dídauar. Aragorn increased his grip, running his hand through Dídauar's hair and pressing a kiss to her crown.
"We will protect them," he repeated.
"I had hoped that there would come an hour where we draw swords together," said Éomer as the Dúnedain, along with the Elven twins, Legolas and Gimli, saddled up. "But no one who sets out along the Dimholt Road has returned to tell the tale."
Aragorn smiled at the young man before holding out his hand. "We shall draw swords together, but not this day," he said. Éomer grasped Aragorn's wrist firmly.
"I will hold you to that," he said. Aragorn inclined his head before hauling himself on to Roheryn's back. Dídauar approached Éomer, a determined, yet slightly haunted, look in her eye.
"Do not stray far from the side of your King," she said. "And protect Merry."
"I will not stray from his side," Éomer vowed. "And Merry will never leave our sight. I swear." Dídauar inclined her head in acceptance.
"Nan lû i agovaded vîn," she said holding out a hand to Éomer. Éomer took it, once again looking like an eager schoolboy in the company of his heroes. (Until next we meet)
"Good luck," he said, not actually understanding what Dídauar had said but understanding enough to know that it was a farewell of some kind. Dídauar gripped his wrist slightly tighter before climbing on to her mare's back and walking to Halbarad's side. Aragorn gave a final salute to Éomer before calling out the order to ride and his people trotted from the courtyard before breaking out into a cantor as soon as it was safe for their horses to do so.
The company of two-dozen rode through the day and arrived at Edoras just before dusk. Éowyn, who was still in charge awaiting the return of her uncle, was pleased to see them and welcomed them to Meduseld which was once more coming to life again. She bombarded Aragorn with questions concerning her people, especially Théoden and Éomer, whilst seeing to it that the riders were fed and given a place to sleep. When she found out the reason for their departure from the King, she was devastated.
"Do you seek your death?" she demanded, confronting Aragorn who was sitting by the open fire that blazed in the centre of the Golden Hall. The heir of Isildur had been chewing he end of his pipe, lost in thought as the flames danced before his eyes. It appeared that he had actually forgotten to ignite the weed held in the bowl as his thoughts jostled for position in his mind.
"I go where I must," replied Aragorn removing the pipe and raising his eyes to meet Éowyn's.
"You needed on the battle field!" protested Éowyn, the volume of her voice indicating that she disapproved of Aragorn's choice. "More than ever we need warriors of skill."
"I will be on the final battle field. As for now, I go where fate decided long ago," replied Aragorn.
"We make our own fate," replied Éowyn firmly. "Would you at least consider waiting for my brother and the King to return?"
"We would not have left them if it was our intention to ride in their company," said Aragorn, running the pad over the bowl of the pipe as he spoke.
"Then take me with you," begged Éowyn. Aragorn shook his head solemnly.
"I will not take a woman into battle, least of all this one," he said.
"A woman rides within your company!" exclaimed Éowyn. "You let your love ride out to battle yet you command me to stay, skulking in the hills where I am little more than a dry nurse! Where is the valour in that?"
"My Lady," began Aragorn. "Valour is not always to be found on the battlefield. Many who find it there do not live to hear it boasted. Deeds do not have to be renown to be valiant."
"Yet still you allow her to ride to battle and glory while commanding me to remain to find bedding and food when the warriors return," replied Éowyn.
"That is an honourable charge," said a voice behind them.
Aragorn and Éowyn both turned in the direction of the voice. Aragorn smiled when he saw Dídauar standing by a pillar a gentle smile gracing her features. She had been out gazing at the stars, desperate to know whether Haldir was still with them, no matter how faintly. Even a whisper of life was enough to give Dídauar hope. Aragorn stretched out a hand towards her and Dídauar gladly accepted the offer.
Standing before the pair, Éowyn watched with an increasingly distressed gaze. It became more obvious when Dídauar wrapped her arms around Aragorn from behind and pressed a kiss to her brother's crown. Aragorn tilted his head back and kissed her cheek in an equally chaste manner though that was not how Éowyn interpreted the move.
'You are happy,' commented Aragorn.
'Haldir's star still shines,' replied Dídauar. 'You are ignoring the lady,' she added when Aragorn continued to study her, having plainly forgotten Éowyn's presence. There was little wonder that there had been numerous rumours that the relationship between the twins was stronger and deeper than they protested. Gestures that were natural, and wholly chaste, to them, were most certainly open to misconstruction. Aragorn tilted his head back so that he was able to look at Éowyn, who was looking like she was caught between envy and terror. When she spoke, it was the envy that was voiced first.
"I am a shield-maiden of Rohan," she said. "I have as much right to fight and defend my people as she does." Théoden had warned her that Aragorn's heart was already taken, and had been for longer than she, Éowyn, had lived but that had not stopped her from fantasying that one day Aragorn would be hers. Now the challenger to her pursuit was apparently in the same room as her.
"Which gives you the duty of protecting those who are weaker than yourself," said Dídauar, removing her arms for around Aragorn and standing up straighter. "Caring for your people, and those who return from battle, injured and grieving, is not as thankless as you believe it to be."
"I am of the House of Eorl, not a serving woman," protested Éowyn. "I can fight as well as my brother and cousin."
"You cousin died!" said Dídauar sharply causing Aragorn to grip her wrist. "The rest of your family barely made it through the battle at Helm's Deep."
"I do not fear pain or death," stated Éowyn drawing herself up.
"Then what do you fear?" asked Aragorn.
"A cage," replied Éowyn.
"If only we all lived within such gilded cages," rebuked Dídauar, pulling her wrist from Aragorn's grasp. "Excuse me."
Aragorn bend his head forward and scrubbed a hand across his face in exasperation. He had thought that Dídauar would begin to emerge from her shell following her outburst that morning but it was obvious that not even a hairline crack had appeared. Éowyn scowled at Dídauar's retreating back before turning back to Aragorn.
"You would make her your Queen?" she asked.
"No, she is my sister. Forgive her Éowyn, she is still grieving for those we lost in the battle. For your people and her own," he said. Éowyn flushed and quickly cast her eyes to the ground.
"I am sorry my Lord, I thought……" she began. Aragorn smiled gently and took one of Éowyn's hands in his.
"You thought nothing different from what your forebears did when first we arrived in Rohan," said the Dúnadan Chieftain. "Do not follow us in the morning, Éowyn. You will only be chasing a dream which I cannot fulfil."