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Many thanks to Cairistiona for the beta

Chapter 33 Halbarad

This is an evil door and my death lies beyond it.

Halbarad: The Passing of the Grey Company

The oarsmen labour tirelessly at full stretch to haul this mighty dromund to war with all the speed they can muster. The harbour fast approaches as the wind that has been strengthening behind us aids them in their task and carries us swiftly to our doom. We can see clearly the battle awaiting us now and it is terrible; the might of our enemies beyond our greatest fears.

We arrive not a moment too soon. Now I understand the great need that drove you to push us to the very brink of exhaustion on our long road from that haunted mountain. Had this fleet sailing behind us been filled with the swords of our enemies, all hope would now be lost. Instead, aboard these Black Ships, a great army sails under your command and the men within the hulls are but the vanguard of those who rallied to your banner. With them rides our only hope of turning the tide that waxes against Gondor even as we prepare to enter the fray.

But I do not believe we are finished yet. The City burns, as you long feared, but the day is yet young. We can still rout this spawn of Mordor. Hope has ever been your companion and it will not desert you now. The Men of Gondor and the Men of Arnor, long sundered kin, are sundered no more. As we prepare to challenge the might of the Dark Lord, it lifts all our hearts to see the Dúnedain united again and standing shoulder to shoulder, as they have not since Earnur came to the aid of Fornost in the dying days of our kings. We have tasted victory once already and, although the greater battle looms before us, I feel in my heart you will not be defeated. When we took that terrible, dark road through the mountain, I feared we would never feel the sun's welcome rays ever again. As it was, when we emerged from that dreadful path, we had but one day only before the descent of this oppressive blackness. But, if my eyes do not deceive me, even now it seems the sky grows light above us. The sun strives for the mastery of the skies, and my troubled mind is greatly eased. The foul air of Mordor will not prevail; already it takes flight at our coming.

~oo0oo~

It is seventy years, my friend, since first we met. You were but a tender lad, untested and chaffing with the unknowing eagerness of youth to wield your sword in anger. Your Elven brethren were with you as I recall. A secret long shared, we all knew whose son you were though you, of course, did not. You were free of all cares then, your only concern not to disappoint those who had taken such pains to teach you well. You did not notice the knowing and approving looks that passed among us. Glad we were and proud that our young chieftain showed such promise.

That day our hope returned.

And when you at last learned of your inheritance and left the sanctuary of Rivendell, we rejoiced to have you returned to us. I regretted then the years of our youth that we had not shared. Had you been other than Arathorn's son we would have played together as small boys and got into trouble as young lads will. I took you to my heart from the very first, although at times your Elvish ways were strange to us and we could not resist a jest.

So quickly you grew into your new role and impressed us all with your valour and your skill. Soon none would dare to tease you. Nor was it long before you captured the hearts of all our people and even the dourest old campaigners came to love you. But in too short time, it seemed, you left us again and were gone for many long years in the service of foreign lords. Some of our people, I know, despaired that you would ever return. But my faith in you was strong and I put my trust in your wisdom. Long did we patiently await you and when at last you came North once more, it was clear to all how you had changed. Mighty you had become, a great leader of men and we followed you gladly. Now when you are abroad, as you too often are, it is I who has the duty of leading our people in your absence and I am honoured by the trust you have so often placed in me.

Long years we have spent on the road together and many a cold, wet campsite have we shared as we trudged the wilds of Eriador. But when we at length returned to our homes, my heart always grieved that it was not your fate to find a wife among the Dúnedain. I have my own beloved and my dear sons to bring me succour in my lonely life, but you, my cousin, have no one to ease your cares and comfort your body. Hard are our lives, but harder still is yours. You push yourself unceasingly to achieve what you must. Only you understand what truly drives you, but your people know the purity of your heart and we will always stand beside you, whatever you ask of us.

When lately we had word that you were in need of your kin, all who heeded the call came gladly to your aid, though we could not have known then how terrible was the path that you would lead us upon. On the day we left Rivendell in search for you, I was humbled that it was I whom your lady asked to carry the Standard of the King, made, she told me, with her own fair hand. No greater honour could she have bestowed upon me, yet I feared we would never find you as we rode through those empty plains of endless grassland. Great was our joy when we at last met on the fields of Rohan.

Dark and long have been our days lately, but I count standing beside you in that bleak tower in the Hornburg as the darkest. That day, I knew more fear than at any time in all my years. What you went through in that encounter I can only guess, but you emerged the victor and now the Dark Lord knows his foe and he fears you.

~oo0oo~

Yet, your hope is not my hope. The walls of the White City are nearly before us and here, when all the battle is raging in our midst, then I shall meet my doom. Long have I foreseen that I shall not live to enjoy the peace that our victory may yet bring. Ever would I be at your side and there is nothing I would change, yet, as I wait on the prow of this our enemies' ship, I nonetheless feel my bowels shrivel within me as they never have before. I clasp the black staff tightly as if to crush my fear beneath my bloodless knuckles.

As the ships dock at the Harlond, I prepare to unfurl the banner of my lord but I can not prevent the tremble in my fingers as I untie the thongs that bind it tight around the staff. I have only to release it, and the White Tree of Gondor and the Crown of Elendil will once more fly free in the wind before the City of Kings. At last, Aragorn, you can throw away your disguise and as a king you will ride to the White City, though you have ever been a king to those of us who know and love you.

I glance across at you as you sit, tall and upright, astride your great horse; your face grim and fell, your eyes ablaze. Never have I seen their light burn so keenly as they do today as you prepare to claim that which has for so long been denied you. On your brow is the Star of Elendil, in your hand is his sword, reforged and aflame, and on your breast, the Elessar.

How great a lord have you become; my heart soars to behold you thus. This is your hour, my friend; you have laboured long and hard for this day and now may you find victory and so shall all behold the return of the king. You catch my eye and as you smile, the king recedes and it is my companion of old I see before me once again. And I do not doubt that even now, when all you desire is so nearly within your grasp, you would still give your very life for even the least of those who follow you.

Suddenly, I feel my resolve strengthen for I, Halbarad Dunadan, shall offer no less. Fear loses its grip upon my heart and I know I shall not falter. I shall ride into battle beside you, holding high the great black standard of my lord and, if it is indeed my fate to give my life for you, then I will do so gladly, knowing it could not be given for greater cause.

For you, my king, there is no higher honour.

.

~oo0oo~

Thus came Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elessar, Isildur's heir, out of the Paths of the Dead, borne upon a wind from the Sea to the kingdom of Gondor… There came Legolas, and Gimli wielding his axe, Halbarad with the standard, Elladan and Elrohir with stars on their brow, and the dour-headed Dunedain, Rangers of the North, leading a great valour of the folk of… the South. But before all went Aragorn with the Flame of the West, Andúril like a new fire kindled, Narsil re-forged as deadly as of old; and upon his brow was the Star of Elendil.

The Battle of the Pelennor Fields The Return of the King

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