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***Chapter 9***

**Aragorn's POV**

She was in my dreams, whispering softly as she lounged back on her chaise. Her long black hair was sprawled out around her, making her look even more divine than she normally did. The light struck her pale face, glistening off a tear as it fell from her face. My Arwen's face.

"I wish I could have seen him, one last time." The sweet cadence of her voice was broken by emotion, before mixing with a gasp for fresh air.

I watched as her hand fell from the couch to the ground, releasing the silver pendant from her fingers as it shattered on the ground in a thousand rays of light. But what struck me the most, was the way that the red of life in her cheeks, was fading away, leaving only milky white in its place. Her breath stilled in her chest, eyes closing one last time.

A gasp rent its way from my throat; reflexively I drew a knife brandishing it before me as though I could fight off the threat which plagued my slumbering mind. But there was nothing before my blade, nothing I could banish. Yet standing at the flap of my tent, about two feet from the end of my bedroll, stood a man of Rohan.

"Apologies, my lord. But King Theoden awaits you." The man said, before moving away from my tent and back out into the darkness of the encampment.

In an effort to shake the image in my dream from my mind, I ran my hand down my face. Then rising from the bedroll, I pulled on my boots which I had abandoned for comforts purposes and settled my light weapons on my waist. The walk to the king's tent was quick and relatively quiet, considering that most of the soldiers were now gathered around fires and speaking in quitter tones. When I swung aside the flap which kept the privacy of the tent, I saw Theoden standing somewhat awkwardly next to a figure clothed entirely in black. Yet, before I had time to consider what would make the king look uncomfortable in his own tent, Theoden spoke.

"I take my leave." He stated, nodding curtly to me in recognition before leaving through the tent flap I had just moment's ago stepped through.

Not really knowing what else to do, I took a step closer to the robed figure in an attempt to discover who it was. Yet my actions seemed unnecessary, when the figure turned around and dropped his hood, revealing my foster father.

"My lord Elrond." I stated with a slight bow, remembering from my upbringing that unless we were in the halls of Imladris in his personal chambers, we were to behave courteously.

He waved off my bow quickly, but the frown which had marked his visage still remained.

"I come on behalf of one whom I love." Elrond stated, his voice sounding more gravely than I had ever heard before. "Arwen has departed, Aragorn."

His words were simple. Yet heart-wrenching. I knew when I told her to leave at his behest it would be what was best for her. But still, there was the slightest bit of hope which blossomed in my heart and mind that when we defeated Sauron and destroyed the ring, she would be standing by my side. She would come to Gondor, be the queen to my king. But it seemed that not even Deirdre's words of promise that I would keep my love had held true. She was gone, undoubtedly passing away to the Grey Havens and beyond. Where the grief of war would never touch her.

"She has left for the Undying Lands." He announced, almost as though he wasn't sure that I had understood what he had previously stated. "But before she left, she entrusted me with a task. A last sign of her endless love for you."

This caught my attention, pulling me from the despair which was quickly filling my heart. I looked to Elrond, the elf who had taken me in as a child and raised me with as much care as his own children.

"The Shadow is upon us, Aragorn. The end has come." Elrond stated, bringing grimmer news the longer that this meeting continued.

"It will not be our end, but his." I returned, attempting to sound as confident as Theoden had when we talked about this same thing earlier in the day.

"You ride to war, but not to victory." Elrond stated derisively. "Sauron's armies ride on Minas Tirith, you know this. But in secret, he sends another force, which will attack from the river. A fleet of Corsair ships sail from the South. They will be in the city in two days. You are outnumbered, Aragorn. You need more men."

"There are none." I returned.

"There are those that dwell in the mountains." He retorted.

"Murderers. Traitors. You would call upon them to fight?" I questioned, it was appalling to think that he would even suggest that. "They believe in nothing. They answer to no one."

"They will answer to the King of Gondor." He confidently announced.

'But what if that man has no desire to be King?' I thought, not wanting to take up the throne of Gondor. It was always Arwen's dream for our future. Yes, in the fellowship I had taken the leadership role after Gandalf fell to the Balrog. But there was a difference between leading seven other people, my friends, and leading the strongest kingdom of Men in Middle Earth.

I snapped from my train of thoughts as I saw Elrond remove a large sheathed blade from his cloak, pulling it free as he moved it into the open. The blade was as long as my arm easily, the handle bound in black leather. The candlelight gleamed off the bright metal. I could tell the sword was newly forged, the way that it gleamed. Yet there was something incredibly familiar about the blade.

"Anduril, flame of the West, forged from the shards of Narsil."

A smile worked its way onto my face. The blade that had been broken, before slicing through Sauron's hand separating him from the ring, was now newly made and shining before me. I took the sword by the grip, raising it to my face to examine the flame.

"Sauron will not have forgotten this blade." I commented, watching the light dance off the blade. "The blade that was broken will return to Minas Tirith."

The legacy which now rested in my hands gave me some measure of reassurance. Too long had my line fallen into shadows, leaving the care of Gondor to the hands of Stewards. And though it had survived all this time in their hands, the oncoming tide of Mordor would sweep through the city without more men.

"The man who can wield the power of this sword can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this earth." Elrond assured. "Put aside the ranger. Become who you were born to be. Ónen i-Estel Edain." I give hope to the Dunedain.

"ú-chebin Estel anim." I have kept no hope for myself.

I finished the phrase that Elrond had taught to me years ago, the saying which gave me my childhood name. With that said, I placed my new sword in the sheath, attaching it at my waist.

"So she has sailed then." I enquired, my mind turning back to Arwen.

"Yes, she left for the havens with the last cycle of the moon." He responded. "She had waivered from the day that you left. But it seems that the Valar have granted her the foresight of what should happen if she remained in Middle Earth."

A stroke of fear pierced my heart as I considered his words. As much as I had wanted Arwen to stay by my side, if her fate should she have stayed was death then I would not risk it for anything.

"It is good that she sailed then."

I hardly noticed his movement before Elrond pulled me into an embrace, the likes he had not done since I had become of age nearly seventy years ago. After a moment of shock, I returned it by placing my hand on his arm.

"Thank you, Estel. For giving me back my daughter." He stated quietly.

We both pulled away in the silence, waiting for the other to break the silence. I could see the pain in Elrond's face that he had feared he would lose Arwen, who reminded him of his lost wife.

"I must return to Imladris with haste, it is unwise to leave it vulnerable. And you need to leave for the mountains." He stated, grasping my shoulder briefly before sweeping from the tent.

I stood in the King's tent for a few more moments in silence before the sound of the flap moving caused me to turn around. Standing there was Theoden, his face curious as to what had occurred between me and the stranger.

"What has happened?" He asked, getting right down to business.

"I need to depart. My path takes me another route to Gondor than with your men." I replied, not straight out saying what I was going to do as it would be taken as insane.

"You desired me to take my men into battle for Gondor when it could have been avoided. Yet you leave." Theoden announced, I tried to respond but he held up his hand and continued. "In Helm's Deep when I despaired you saved my people. I will endeavor to do the same for yours."

I nodded my head once before clasping Theoden's forearm in my hand and he repeated the action to me.

"I will see you in Minas Tirith, where we will prevail." I proclaimed, looking solidly into the eyes of the king.

"May your path be safe." He replied.

"And your path as well." I returned before exiting the tent and making my way towards my own.

**Saffy's POV**

Tick. Tock. It's almost sad the things that you miss when suddenly you are vaulted from your own world and into a world which is essentially in the dark ages. Like the sound that a clock fills the air with when you are waiting for something to happen and literally nothing else is happening. You know the one, where in the utter silence it rings louder than a hammer falling on a balloon. Yet that is precisely what I was missing while we waited at the entrance to the Paths of the Dead, stuck here until Aragorn showed up. At least it was nice out tonight.

Finally, after almost an hour of waiting for him to arrive, Aragorn came into sight nearing his horse to prepare Brego for the ride. Yet, when Eowyn approached him she seemed so worried and desperate that the moment felt incredibly intimate and awkward for me to be watching.

"Why are you doing this? The war lies to the East. You cannot leave on the eve of battle. You cannot abandon the men." Her words were in a harsh whisper, which sadly carried fairly well.

"Eowyn…" Aragorn began, only slightly looking up from Brego's saddle when he spoke.

"We need you here." She cut him off.

"Why have you come?" the words seemed to come tiredly from his mouth as if he had already been dealt a great blow and just wanted to get the rest of this over with.

"Do you not know?" she asked him, her tone had softened slightly as she spoke.

"It is only a shadow and a thought that you love. I cannot give you what you seek." Aragorn's voice was broken as he spoke. "I have wished you joy since I first saw you."

Eowyn moved back quickly, turning so quick I was amazed her hair didn't whip Aragorn, before returning to the safety of the campfires and her people. I shifted slightly uncomfortable in the silence before Aragorn returned to his task of preparing Brego. My gaze moved over towards Legolas and Nimiwen, who were saddling our horses as well.

"Just where do you think you're off to?" Gimli's rough voice breaks the silence in the air as Aragorn moved closer and closer to the ravine.

"Not this time. This time you must stay, Gimli." Aragorn returned, attempting to sound firm but sounding more annoyed than anything.

"Have you learnt nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?" Legolas questioned rhetorically, slipping from the shadows to stand before.

"Or that of Elves?" I added on from my place on a boulder near to the edge of the ravine.

I felt the chill of the dead creeping up, like cold fingers gripping my shoulder. I couldn't suppress the shudder which shook my body. Aragorn let out a sigh of resignation as realization that we weren't giving up easily sunk in.

"You'd better face it, Laddie. We're coming with you." Gimli concluded, earning a brief nod from our ranger.

"Well, now that that's settled. Why don't we head down the dark path?" I asked, mounting my horse beside Nimiwen and looking down at my companions.

***End Chapter 9***

Sorry it's been taking me so long to update, I've been really busy with work and this has actually been my first day off since Easter.

Please Read and Review.