Notes, Warnings etc
This chapter is over 4500 words.
Chapter Thirty-Four -
The Journey Home Is More Than Just Putting
One Foot In Front Of The Other
Glorfindel did not find Dídauar that night, as Aragorn and Erkenbrand had warned him would be the case. He returned to Edoras an hour after sundown and not in the best of tempers. Erestor had ended up with the task of calming the warrior down, the Imladrian Councillor having known Glorfindel from before the fall of Gondolin. The result was a haggard Erestor and an ill-tempered Glorfindel arriving for breakfast but both were professional enough not to let the rest of the party see the full extent of their emotions. Much to everyone's surprise, Dídauar had not returned to Edoras that morning and come the time for Théoden's funeral, she was still nowhere to be found. Even if they were panicked by such a turn of events, no one could do anything about it, it being highly impolite and incredibly disrespectful to miss the funeral of the Rohirric King for the sake of a runaway warrior.
Retracing the steps that had brought the fallen King to the Hall of Meduseld, Éomer, Gamling, Erkenbrand, Elfhelm, Grimbold and Éothain placed the litter on a golden bier which would bare the King on his final journey from the Golden Hall to the Barrowfield. Beside him rode Merry, the young Esquire once more clutching Théoden's weapons and his face a mask of such sorrow that not even the greatest of jesters could imitate it. Éomer and Éowyn led the procession, his face a mask of sobriety, hers, one of deep pain, though both managed to maintain control of their emotions. Behind them followed their guests, Gondorian, Hobbit and Elven, while the Dúnedain lingered around the fringes, not used to such formality for funeral rituals and feeling out of place. As Théoden was laid in his tomb, Gléowine once more struck up a song for his King which was taken up by the Rohirrim as the door was closed across the mound and the women and children came forward with Simblemynë to cast across the grave. Only Théodred's mound would remain thus unmarked, instead baring the banner of his people and the arms that had been used to defend them.
It was as Éomer was making his announcement to the people that Éowyn was to marry Faramir come the spring that Aragorn sensed a new presence at the fringe of the crowd. Turning his head, he caught sight of Dídauar standing in the shadow, her arms folded and her head bowed in what could be assumed was prayer. As though she sensed she had been caught, she glanced up and her eyes met with Aragorn's. The Gondorian King held out his hand to her, beseeching her to join the crowd by Dídauar shook her head slightly, motioning to the rest of the Dúnedain. Aragorn inclined his head in understanding – it was his job to act as the dignitary while Dídauar would remain with her people, on the outskirts of the unfamiliar setting, to offer a source of familiarity if nothing else. Before the younger twin could slip back into the shadows, Aragorn signed something else and Dídauar gifted him with a gentle smile and a nod of agreement.
That night, there was a feast in honour of Théoden's name and life for, as Elrond had told Éomer, Théoden had lived a full life, and lived it to the full, and had met his death in battle with such honour that he was counted among the greatest of his Sires. The Elf-Lord's words were not simply those of a wise man seeking to alleviate grief, but those of one who had lived through the darkest times of the world and who knew, and understood, the definition of honour and the making of a hero. The feast was also a celebration of the betrothal of Rohan's White Lady and the reunion of ties between the two noble states of Gondor and Rohan, with Faramir and Éowyn somehow being persuaded to take up the places of honour at the main table. Éomer had used the redirection of attention to his full advantage and spent the better part of the meal speaking with Lothíriel, the daughter of Imrahil who had accompanied her father to say farewell to the late Rohirric King. Anyone would have been forgiven for believing the pair were courting, Éomer doing his utmost to appear like a proper gentlemen and King of Rohan rather than the third-marshal rider who was more used to the meals and suggestive conversation that could often be found around a campfire, but the slightly disapproving gaze with which Elphir, Imrahil's eldest son, watched their interactions would have led some to question their conclusion.
As the feasting dissolved into dancing and music, Lindir and Gléowine getting on spectacularly and insisting that the both share the task of further entertaining the guests, Aragorn left his wife in her father's care while he sought out his sister. Noticing her lingering about the edges of the Golden Hall, he made his way to her side, dodging the children and Hobbits that were careering across the floor on their bellies, imitating the flightless birds that were found in the most northern regions of the world. Aragorn was convinced that Merry and Pippin would not be popular with the mothers when they realised the state of their child's clothing but for the moment, they were left to their entertainment.
'You can't possibly be hiding from Mithrandir!' teased Aragorn by way of greeting, having noticed that the wizard was only just in their line of sight but ducking behind a pillar would hide them completely.
'You're not the one who he pesters to sing,' replied Dídauar. 'And when I have him, Erkenbrand, Lindir and Elrond all in the same room together and entertaining is on the agenda, I am quite willing to hide. Honestly, I thought Théoden and Eadwig were bad! Now, what have you done with your wife?'
'She's with Adar,' replied Aragorn. Dídauar goggled at him. 'What?'
'You haven't called Lord Elrond, or anyone for that matter, Adar since you met Arwen,' replied Dídauar. She shrugged before taking a drink. 'I missed hearing it.'
Aragorn continued to look a little startled, honestly unaware that his term of address to Elrond had changed. His behaviour towards Elrond hadn't changed much since he was a child – he gave him the appropriate title and gestures of greeting and farewell when they were in a formal setting and such etiquette was required fromall, including Arwen and the twins, but he would still impulsively hug the Elf, was more than willing to join the twins, Glorfindel and Erestor in their teasing, was not afraid to make his opinion or his emotions known to him. His feelings towards the Elf hadn't changed either so why had he stopped calling him father and why did nobody feel the urge to call him on it?
'Estel?' asked Dídauar, realising that Aragorn wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to what was going on around him.
'Sorry, did you say something?' asked Aragorn as he jerked back to reality.
'Only that I was contemplating joining the Hobbits in their attempt to polish the floor,' replied Dídauar with a grin. Aragorn raised an eyebrow in response. 'Seriously, where were you?'
'I didn't realise I'd changed,' said Aragorn quietly. Dídauar blinked at him. 'Why did nobody tell me?'
Dídauar shrugged. 'Everyone thought it was natural. You'd spent nearly thirty years away from Imladris and in the company of Men. You'd fallen in love with the only daughter of your foster-father, it was assumed that you felt awkward calling him 'father' yourself.'
'And nobody thought it was odd that you continued to use the name?'
'If they did, they never spoke to me about it,' replied Dídauar, setting her cup down as the minstrels picked up a familiar jig. 'Do you remember this?'
'I remember a lot of bruises,' said Aragorn as the warriors swarmed into the centre of the hall that had been cleared for the dancing and additional entertainment. Anyone with knowledge of this particular dance moved well out of the way, grabbing stray children and Hobbits as they went.
'Very few of which actually appeared on you,' grinned Dídauar. Aragorn chuckled and allowed his twin to drag him into the middle of throng of warriors to be greeted with a loud cheer, not least from Éomer and Erkenbrand.
The feasting and celebration continued long into the night, resulting in a vast majority of the children and the four Hobbits finding a shadowy corner to curl up in when it appeared none of the 'big people' were going to be finishing any time soon. At some point, someone had collected a few blankets and spread them across the huddled mass, both child and Hobbit using each other as pillow, mattress and blanket. Gimli had once more keeled over where he sat and it took two of the Rohirric warriors to move him over to where the youngsters slept. Most of the Elves bid goodnight to their hosts before things descended too far into chaos while the Dúnedain had retreated out into the grounds of Edoras. Éomer had offered them rooms in the Golden Hall but they had declined the offer, claiming that they were far more used to, and comfortable with, having the sky for a ceiling and the stars and moon for light. Éomer had not pressed them, understanding that it was often difficult for seasoned warriors to be comfortable in more 'civil' surroundings. He himself still had difficulty sleeping in the King's chambers and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was still doubting his ability to rule his people as the successor to his uncle.
The guests remained with Éomer for four days and pressure from their respective council members saw Aragorn and Éomer quickly being pulled into political discussions, much to their displeasure. This left Éowyn to act a predominant host to the remaining visitors, something which she would have managed with ease had she not such a fear of the Elven members of the party. All except the youngest members of the Elven guard took pity on the young woman and if they did notice her hesitancy, they did not draw attention to it. However, it did not bode well for her future as the wife to Gondor's Steward if she could not even stand in the presence of her Queen without shaking like a newborn lamb struggling to maintain its balance. It was Culas, who had taken quite a shine to the Shield-Maiden, that managed to calm her enough so that she could at least talk to the Elves without physically portraying her fear and the young woman was grateful. Dídauar paid another visit to the graves of her former champions and Théoden, though this time she had the sense to take Glorfindel with her. She wasn't concerned with her own safety but when Erestor had told of the state the Balrog-slayer had worked himself into the night before the funeral, she decided that she would spare everyone's sanity providing Glorfindel was nothing more than a silent guard.
The morning of fourth day following Théoden's funeral saw the Hobbits, Dúnedain, Elves and Aragorn's Gondorian guard depart from their host, their mounts laden with provisions enough for their respective journeys home. At the breaking of their fast that morning, Éomer had extended the hand of friendship to all of those now leaving but even he realised that the time of the Elves was ending and that only a handful of those before him would return. Merry was pulled aside by his King shortly before the riders set out but what was said in their conversation would remain between them unless Merry chose to retell the story. No one missed the finely wrought horn that was settled against his hip as they set out but while the warriors were polite enough not to hound the creature with questions, his fellows pestered him for details and the story behind the gift. Merry told them very little, only that Éowyn had wished him to have the horn. Faramir, Imrahil, Culas and Arwen were not among the number setting out however, the four electing to stay in Rohan. Elphir and Lothíriel also stayed behind but Amrothos opted to travel with the company. Similarly to his cousin, the fair-haired son of Imrahil was enamoured by anything Elven or Númenorean and he fired question after question at the Elves and the Dúnedain like an eager schoolboy, listening with rapt attention to the stories of old that were willingly recounted around the campfire or during the ride.
The company presently came to Helm's Deep, the stone fortress once more restored to its former glory at the hands of those Dunlendings who had been spared by Théoden following their defeat four months previously. The Dunlendings were not to be found around the Keep which was probably just as well since not all the Rohirrim had yet forgiven them for their attack. While the resident warriors of Helms Deep set about housing their guests within the Keep, Gimli had dragged Legolas off to the hidden caves where they remained unseen and unheard from for at least a day. What words passed between them there remain unrecalled but upon remerging, Legolas was jokingly demanding that they journey to Fangorn immediately so that they could settle yet another score between them. On a more sombre visit, Haldir and Rúmil, along with the Elven twins, retraced the steps to the wall where Orophin had made his last stand against the Enemy. The twins had stood with their heads bowed, one arm folded across their chests as they sent another pray to the Valar for Orophin's soul. Haldir stood beside them but counterpoint to the twins, his face was cast up to the clear August sky, tears falling silently as he silently spoke words of farewell that he had not managed until now. Rúmil however, had dropped to his knees almost immediately and his body shook with grief as he unintentionally recalled Orophin's last moments. The youngest of the four Elves could not yet bring himself to fully release his brother's spirit because that meant acknowledging that the bond they had shared from Orophin's birth was permanently severed. For over 2000 years, there had been another soul to dance in sync with his own and Rúmil could not yet bring himself to admit that he now danced alone. All left them to their grief and remembrance, only Celeborn daring to approach as the moon climbed to her peak, bidding them all to return to the Keep and to recall Orophin's life rather than his death.
The morning after their arrival saw Dídauar once more vanishing from the main contingent though this time she did not go alone. Together with Gamling and Aragorn, she went to the burial site of those who had fallen during the battle of Helm's Deep. Neither twin had served with many of the fallen Rohirrim but Dídauar had heard tales about of many of them from Théodred and subsequently passed them on to Aragorn. It wouldn't have mattered though, the twins were there to recall the sacrifice of the many who had made one last desperate attempt to protect their people from an enemy that offered only two choices – surrender or die – and to honour the names of those who had inevitably ensured their ascension to the Throne of Gondor. Gamling had collapsed similarly to Rúmil upon arriving at Háma's grave and neither twin hesitated in offering the proud warrior the comfort that he would not ask for but which he was desperately seeking. It was as they sat together at the grave that Dídauar learnt how Háma had taken over her duties after she had departed Edoras and had taken Gamling under his wing following the death of the younger warrior's parents. The twins also learnt that, together with Grimbold and Théoden, the former Royal Guard had striven to keep the names of Faerlain and Thorongil alive in Rohan and, while the latter held more acclaim in Gondor, the name of former had been repeatedly raised around a campfire and within the Golden Hall itself, the names of the twin warriors were uttered with an air of hope surrounding them. Aragorn had returned to the Keep around noon to check on the Dúnedain and the remaining members of the Fellowship, while Dídauar stayed with Gamling, the warrior not quite ready to make his final farewells to his mentor and friend. The two warriors remained by the gravesite until the sun retreated behind the mountains and a harsh summer wind whipped around the cove, sometimes sharing their memories of the fallen guard, others just sitting in silence, lost in their own memories that they felt to private to share.
On the twenty-second day of August, the remaining company of Elves, Men and Hobbits arrived at Isengard where they were met by Treebeard, much to Merry and Pippin's delight. The grounds surrounding Orthanc were no where near their full glory but they were no longer scared by the machinery of war and the flood water had been redirected into a running stream that encircled the black tower. Instead, much to Legolas' and the twins (both sets) delight, there was evidence that trees were returning to the former stronghold of Saruman, forming orchards and copses. Treebeard was equally optimistic about the prospect and rambled on at great length about it as well as praising the deeds that the company had carried out in Gondor and Mordor, for he was well informed of all the goings on in the world even after war had departed his sight. While accepting the praise, and giving thanks of their own, the company received some startling news – Saruman had been allowed to go free. While some greeted the news with an exclamation of "What?!" and accused Treebeard of slipping in his duty and yet others accused him of growing bored with his task and releasing the fallen wizard was his way of relieving himself of an unwanted burden, Gandalf sat patiently astride Shadowfax as Treebeard to explain. And explain Treebeard did, in the manner of a child wanting nothing more than an adult to understand why they took a particular course of action and with a lot more haste than had previously been seen from the ancient Ent.
"Alas, he has yet to lose the power of his voice," sighed Gandalf. "He has outwitted even you, Treebeard. But, even the wise have been known to fallen foul of his honeyed tongue and what has been done cannot be undone."
"Tarcil!" yelled Dídauar suddenly, startling those around her. The young commander appeared quickly at her side, wearing a look of both confusion and concern.
"Take Nemír and one other, not Arahael, back to Helms Deep. Send a message to Hinor," she ordered in a low voice, aware of the Hobbits that were well within hearing range had she spoken normally and she did not wish to panic them. "Have him strengthen the patrols around The Shire. Rohan and Gondor are beyond Saruman's reach now and he will know that. The Shire however is still vulnerable and he will wish to do injury to those he sees as having contributed to his fall from grace. And warn him to be vigilant, Saruman knows how we work. Warn him that an attack will come when least expected."
"Yes Captain," said Tarcil, saluting Dídauar and, signalling to Nemír and Calemir, he remounted. Waiting just long enough for his companions to mount as well, he rode out of Isengard with decidedly more haste than he entered. When Dídauar turned her attention back to the main group, Quickbeam was leaning towards Aragorn as Treebeard continued to speak, addressing first Aragorn and then the Elven members of the company, particularly the contingent from Lothlórien.
"It is time to repay a debt laddie," said Gimli, turning to Legolas. The Mirkwood Elf bowed his head in agreement but they were the only members of the party who accepted Treebeard's offer to travel to Fangorn once more.
"And so ends the Fellowship," said Aragorn quietly, sounding mournful as he did so. Not that the Quest was successfully completed but that the company formed eight months previously was parting ways.
"In name only," said Legolas, crouching before the King. "But bounds have been formed that will not fall victim to time or distance."
"We will visit when our Lords permit," promised Gimli. "Legolas to tend your gardens and I to instruct your stone masons."
"I will look for your coming," vowed Aragorn and embraced both the Dwarf and Elf before the pair mounted Arod.
'Namárië, mellyn nîn. Nen vaer a lalaith veren ir i lû tôl a adgevedim,' said Legolas, offering the company one last salute that was returned by the Elves and the twins, before kicking Arod into a trot which extended into a gallop as the stallion once more reached the plains of Rohan. (Farewell my friends. Sweet water and joyous laughter till next we meet)
The remaining members of the company made their way south to the Gap of Rohan where Aragorn reigned Roheryn to a stop.
"This is where we must part," he said, casting a pained look in Dídauar's direction. The King was not the only one who looked stricken by the separation. It was nearly a year since the foursome of Hobbits had been discovered in Bree being far more careless than they should have been considering the burden that they carried. Aragorn had readily placed himself as their protector and despite the fact that they had been separated from Rauros, he had never let them down.
"It is only farewell should you wish it," said Dídauar, her words meant for both Aragorn and the Hobbits as Aragorn stepped down from his mount. The Gondorian King chose to address the matter of the Hobbits rather than his own.
"You forget my dear Hobbits, that my realm also lies in the North," he said with a small smile, the height of ponies that the four were riding meaning that they were eye-level with one another rather than the Man towering over them. His embraced each of them in turn before stepping back and speaking to them all.
"While I do not journey there now, one day I shall return. And Pippin? You are still a knight in the Army of Gondor. You are on leave for the moment but there may come a day when I require your services once more."
"Once a silver-and-black always a silver-and-black," murmured the youngest of the four, glancing between Aragorn and Dídauar. Both twins chuckled while Gandalf rolled his eyes.
"It is a high honour, master Took," the Istari said. "And one that is not readily forgotten by those who bestowed it. But come, it is getting late and Aragorn should return at least to Isengard before the Sun disappears completely."
"But it is alright for us to travel by moonlight?" muttered Merry as Aragorn moved to bid farewell to the Lothlórien Elves. "What is his obsession with travelling in the dark?"
"You do not wish to camp on the Gap of Rohan, Merry," said Elladan, startling the sandy-haired Hobbit. "Here is where the wind is harshest and even the sturdiest of Elven warriors seek other refuse."
"Ah," was all Merry said, slightly embarrassed that his comment had been overheard. Elladan gave the Hobbit a small smile and together with his twin and father, stepped down from his mount so that they could give Aragorn a slightly more personal farewell than traditional salutes and blessings. Between the twins however, decorum and etiquette was thrown from the proverbial window and for several moments they stood tightly held within the other's embrace, murmured endearments passing between them and a few tears splashed on to tunics. Though neither had realistically expected a different outcome, it had not stopped either of them dreaming of their twin remaining with them, either wandering the northlands or governing the southern state and know they felt the pain of this separation keenly. Only once before had they felt such anguish – fifty years ago when Aragorn had ridden from Rohan to join the army of Gondor while Dídauar's services were retained by Thengel and such a transfer had resulted in a separation spanning nearly twenty years, something which neither twin had dealt with especially well though both had learnt to erect strong barriers when in public.
'Raid gîn celin ar i 'waew chwest adel chen, muindor nîn,' murmured Dídauar. (May your paths be green and the breeze behind you, my brother)
'Guren niniatha nan lû i ammin achenitham,' whispered Aragorn. (My heart shall weep until it sees you again)
"Look for me when the crops turn golden once more under the sun," said Dídauar, pulling back.
"I will," promised Aragorn. Dídauar smiled at his weakly as she brushed away a few of his stray tears and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Aragorn returned the gesture and as though it was the sign that they had both been waiting for, they broke their embrace and stepped back to their respective companies, Dídauar swinging herself into her saddle and turning the mare in preparation to ride west. Aragorn remained on his feet for the moment.
"Farewell for now my friends," he called. "May the Valar keep you safe till next we meet."
A multitude of farewells were called back from all the company and with slightly saddened smiles and laughter, they turned to continue west. Aragorn stayed on the hilltop, slightly apart from his guard, watching the retreating backs of kith and kin, refusing to move from the hilltop until the recently departed company were out with his vision, going as far as to mount Roheryn so as to prolong visual contact. In the twilight, he saw heads turn to back to face him and he raised his hand as though to wave a final farewell, the setting Sun catching the gem stone about his neck and causing it to glint like an emerald fire. When the company had finally passed beyond his sight, Aragorn steered Roheryn around and kicked the eager stallion into trot and allowed the horse to dictate the pace which he rode after the initial start, expecting the creature to stretch into a gallop as soon as he was able. He was not disappointed and the stallion was swiftly off at a gallop, not caring whether the horses of Aragorn's guard were capable of keeping up.
Headed in the opposite direction, a chestnut coloured mare slowly meandered its way south along the Isen before turning north-west into Dunland. It was as though the horse sensed her mistress' reluctance to continue along her chosen path and was given her the opportunity to turn back before the distance between them and the eastern side of the mountains became too great. Dídauar however, resolutely rode northwards to the wild plains of Eriador. She had sworn on the name of her fallen kin that she would continue the task they had started until such time as the Valar saw fit to send her elsewhere but it was not only duty that called her northwards. As Faramir had once explained to the Lady Éowyn, while Dídauar could settle in a foreign land for a time, only in the Valley of Imladris or the rugged northlands of Eriador was she truly at home.