Disclaimer: All to Tolkein!
A/N ICRep: I apologise! I said two weeks and it took much longer! I blame university education. Stupid essays. Anyway, here it is: the next chapter of 10LR.
Seriously though: ONE GROSS WORTH OF REVIEWS? YOU GUYS ROCK.
The stone caught her tears faithfully, held each one like a star. Like a shining diamond or pearl. But there was no light in Arwen's heart. Just that ache and pain. The parapet was cold against her cheek, against her skin. She lay so precariously, on the edge of the wall, staring out over the plains, the glassy tears rolling down her face. All she felt was pain; all she knew was darkness.
Aragorn… Aragorn… Aragorn… She sobbed his name, silently, again and again. She knew without knowing that this was the pain of Tinúviel, the pain she must have felt when she lost Beren to the ravages of time. A mortal, even a mortal who loved an elf, was still mortal. And he died, and Tinúviel soon after.
Aragorn… Not even the grace of the Valar saved you, my love….
Arwen closed her eyes and sighed painfully. She had no voice for loud proclamations of grief. Just silent ever-falling tears. Silver gems for her beloved, for the one who loved the star Undómiel.
Her heart told her: He lives! Aragorn lives! Do not despair! But Arwen could not believe that which was broken. If he lives, she murmured voicelessly, opening her eyes and staring out over the wide plains, Bring him back to me. Bring my King and love back to me.
A figure in white crossed the plains, suddenly and without ceremony. Arwen half-lifted her head, wiping her eyes to clear them. Gandalf? Shadowfax? No. But the figure was familiar that it made her breath catch a moment. Asfaloth! Faithful Asfaloth! She'd let the steed run free after saving Frodo from the Wraiths, that long time ago. She'd thought he would have chosen to return to Glorfindel, since his duty with her was complete. Yet he was here, and making an easy loping pace across the plain towards the fortress Helm's Deep.
Have you come to bring me news, my friend? Arwen slowly sat up on the wall's edge, focusing her sight on the white horse. Or have you come to bear me to where he lies dead, so that I may say my farewell?
A second horse appeared on the plain, harder to discern from his dark colouring. But this one bore a rider. Arwen stared a moment, seeing the rider's face from this distance, but scarce able to believe who is was she saw. But the rider - though battered and bloody and soaked to the skin - was joyously and wonderfully unmistakable.
Aragorn!
Arwen turned from the wall and ran down to the gates, crying anew but this time with joy and with relief. She could feel her heart beating again, loud in her ears and flooding her body with the warmth she hadn't felt for what seemed like so long.
"Open the gates!" She shouted as she ran, "Fling them wide, he returns! Open the gates!"
The warriors by the gates heard her from where she shouted on high, and complied without hesitation. Arwen hurried, panting as she leapt down stairs and through narrow passages, climbing ever downwards to the courtyard. She heard the sound of horses' hooves coming closer, and ran even faster. Both Brego and Asfaloth stood proud and tall; Aragorn turned, eyes wide with hope and relief. Arwen laughed, still crying, and threw herself into Aragorn's waiting arms.
"You live! You live!"
The Elvish words were music to his ears. Aragorn all but crushed Arwen in his embrace. He could tell from the tears on her face that her joy at having him return to her surpassed the grief she must have felt. Aragorn held Arwen close, and breathed in the scent of her hair and skin as though it were the finest perfume. If she did not mind the state he was in, then neither did he.
Arwen drew back a moment, to stare with wonder into Aragorn's eyes, to hold his face in her hands. "I saw you die!" She cried, the words tumbling out of her. "The warg, and the cliff, and the river… I saw you die!"
"I live," Aragorn said simply, shushing her gently. He kissed her gently, then once again. The river had not been kind to him, as his wounds showed plainly. But in his mind's-eye he had seen Arwen languishing, and had been afraid. Whether it was a trick of the mind, or a vision of the woman he loved suffering in grief, he knew not. But he knew he never wanted to see her heart broken ever again. He held her gently, and stared into her eyes. "I will not be taken from you so easily," he told her. "Amin mela lle." 1 Arwen smiled and cried all at once, and then kissed Aragorn again.
"He's alive!"
Both Arwen and Aragorn realised now they had an audience - well-wishers glad to see Aragorn were gathering. It was a little late for subtlety, but Arwen and Aragorn drew apart slightly. She smiled at him, then moved between the two horses, murmuring to them in Elvish and stroking their faces.
"Where is he?" A familiar brogue voice bellowed through the crowd. Aragorn's smile hitched wryly at the corner of his mouth as he watched the crowd part for Gimli. "Let the dwarf through! Where is he? I'm gonna kill him!" The dwarf finally made it to the forefront of the crowd. The dwarf shook a finger at Aragorn. "You," he said, admonishingly, "You are the luckiest, the canniest, and the most reckless man I ever knew!"
Aragorn smiled, just as relieved to see his friend survived as Gimli was.
Gimli's faux-anger was quickly swept away. The dwarf stood a moment, axe in hand, glowering at Aragorn, then with a cry, leapt froward and embraced him. "Ah, bless ye, laddie!" He hugged Aragorn; the ranger awkwardly patted the top of Gimli's head as the dwarf blubbered, "Bless ye!"
"Seems I am not the only one pleased you are still alive," Arwen murmured, in a voice just for Aragorn's ears. Aragorn pulled a wry smile in return as he patted the sobbing dwarf's helmet.
There wasn't time for everyone to welcome him back. He had to speak to Théoden. When Brego had pulled Aragorn from the river and carried him to this fortress, Aragorn had spied the army of Saruman. It was marching tirelessly across the sweeping plains, and would soon be upon them. There was little time to prepare.
"Gimli," Aragorn looked down at the dwarf, "Where is the king?"
Gimli must have seen something in Aragorn's eyes, because he stepped back, and nodded to the left. Aragorn looked - the hall was not too far from here. A council of war. And one he should be a part of. He had news they must know. Thanking Gimli, Aragorn made his way forward.
But he paused, and looked back. Arwen had her arms wrapped around Brego's neck. Even from here, he could hear what she was telling the horse. "Brego, you good and faithful friend. I shall always be in your debt!" Arwen looked up, and smiled. There were still some tears in her eyes. Aragorn saw only the way they sparkled, and thought once more how beautiful she was when she smiled. The ranger smiled in return before turning back to the council hall.
Legolas stood in the doorway. Aragorn halted his steps, waiting to see what his friend had to say.
"Le ab-dollen," Legolas noted wryly.2
Aragorn laughed shortly. "It couldn't be helped, my friend."
Legolas looked with critical concern at the ranger, taking in the bruises and the cuts and the tears in his clothes. "You look terrible," the elven archer offered. Aragorn raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Coming from an Elf who never seemed to be injured, tired, or even dirty, the comment seemed pretty steep. Legolas smiled at the expression on Aragorn's face. The elf held out his fist, proffering something to Aragorn.
The Evenstar dropped into Aragorn's palm.
Aragorn stared, dumb-struck. He'd thought this lost forever. He thought it had been destroyed in the battle, or lost in the river. Yet here it was. Whole, and just as beautiful as the night he'd received it. He looked to Legolas, not knowing what to say. Finally, he smiled, and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Hannon le," he murmured.
Legolas smiled knowingly, then stepped aside for Aragorn to enter the hall. Aragorn slipped the Evenstar over his head, and felt somehow safer, more complete. A King among men.
Aragorn pushed wide the doors and entered the council.
"A great host, you say?" Théoden frowned darkly.
"All Isengard is emptied," Aragorn nodded.
"How many?" The Lord of Rohan showed no sign of despair
Aragorn paused, then answered truthfully. "Ten thousand strong, at least."
"Ten thousand?" The King's eyes widened.
"They are an army bred for a single purpose," Aragorn folded his arms and surveyed the room. "To destroy the world of men." He looked again to the Horse Lord. "They will be here by nightfall."
Théoden turned away from his advisors and marched resolutely to the door. "Let them come!"
Aragorn followed after him. Théoden strode from the hall, Gamling at his side. Legolas and Gimli saw and followed after Aragorn. The party walked through the passage behind the Deeping Wall.
"I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms to be ready for battle by nightfall," Théoden told Gamling. The advisor nodded, and went on his way. Théoden continued on until he stood at the gates, and addressed his words to Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas. "We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the Deeping Wall or set foot inside the Hornburg." There was pride and surety in his voice.
Gimli sat down on the steps and rested his axe on his shoulder. "This is no rabble of mindless Orcs," the dwarf said pragmatically, "These are Uruk-hai. Their armour is thick and their shields broad."
Théoden looked almost disdainful. "I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep." He turned and marched back into the fortress. Aragorn spared his friend a sympathetic glance as he followed the lord of Rohan; Legolas clapped a hand briefly on Gimli's shoulder as he passed.
"They will break upon this fortress like water on rock," Théoden said, surveying the high stone walls. "Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn, we've seen it before. Crops can be resown; homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them."
Aragorn frowned and went to Théoden's side. "They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages. They come to destroy its people. Down to the last child." He kept his voice low. There were too many people here.
Théoden glared somewhat at Aragorn, and his voice dropped to a murmur. "What would you have me do?" He asked, something like despair in his eyes. "Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance."
A noble goal, Aragorn thought. But a foolish one. Out loud, he said, "Send out riders, my lord. You must call for aid."
Théoden half-laughed, and shook his head. "And who will come? Elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead." He turned away, eyes filled with bleakness.
"Gondor will answer," Aragorn said, thinking of Boromir's strength and determination.
"Gondor?" Théoden turned back, incredulous. "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gon…" He stopped, anger leaving him at a loss for words. "No, my lord Aragorn," Théoden said quietly, "We are alone." He turned away from Aragorn and started shouting orders.
Aragorn turned away as well, and walked with heavy steps through the stone walls. His feet led him to the stables, where the smell of horses and hay was something comforting. Unlike this strange battle ahead. Aragorn shook his head wearily. The Uruk-hai will show no mercy. Blood and death would drench the soil around this place.
The sound of a woman singing lifted Aragorn's thoughts from despair.
May it be
The Shadow's call
Will fly away
May it be
You journey on
To light the day
When the night is overcome
You may rise to find the sun
A horse snorted and whinnied. Arwen paused in her singing to laugh. "Oh, my good and faithful friends! Asfaloth, you wonderful creature! Brego, you hero! My friends! I have a debt to you I cannot hope to repay!" She laughed again. Aragorn smiled to himself, and rounded the corner. Arwen stood in the stalls between the two horses, brushing down their flanks and smiling. She saw Aragorn and paused. Her smile widened further yet, but this smile soon faded when she saw the burden in his eyes.
"Heruamin," she murmured, moving towards him, "What troubles you?"4
Aragorn leant against the stable wall and sighed. "I fear for this place," he murmured, "And for the people who dwell here."
Arwen set down the brush and moved to Aragorn's side. Her fingers gently touched the Evenstar at his throat; Aragorn closed her hand in his and held it tight. Neither of them spoke a long moment. They simply stared into each others' eyes, seeking comfort and assurance. Aragorn wished he had some to give her.
"What is it you fear?" Arwen asked gently.
Aragorn sighed. "Every man and strong lad able to bear arms is to be ready for battle by nightfall." He stared out into the distance. "This fortress seems sound but… Saruman's army…The numbers are immense."
"It would be foolish of me to tell you not to fear," Arwen murmured. "But have courage, Aragorn." She smiled and squeezed his hand. "This will pass."
"But at what cost?" Aragorn frowned. One of his open wounds twinged, and he flinched. Arwen stepped back, and noticed the blood in his clothes. She frowned slightly with concern.
"Let me tend to your wounds, Aragorn. Then you must rest. The battle will come sooner than you think. And if you are unprepared, then who will men turn to for their strength?"
Aragorn bowed his head, and did not contradict her. But while Arwen went to fetch bandages and healing salves, Aragorn leaned against the wall and stared out into nothing. He was not afraid. Not for himself. But for the men, women and children who thought this place a place of safety. Who had sworn to protect. They came here expecting protection and courage.
What they will get, Gandalf's words echoed back, Is a massacre.
1) I love you
2) You're late.
3) Thankyou.
4) My Lord
A/N ICRep: It was interesting to write from Aragorn's perspective this time. New one coming soon, hopefully before my mid-year exams. But no promises.
ALSO I'D LIKE TO THANK EVERYONE (on behalf of Nerwen and Tinuviel, as well) FOR LEAVING ONE GROSS WORTH OF REVIEWS. 144 reviews! Whoooo! I feel like I should be making a Bilbo birthday speech of some kind, but we love reviews too much to say that we like you less than half as well as you deserve. We love you twice as much as half the times Nerwen and Tinuviel write chapters, and more than half as twice as many as I do! (No, don't try and figure that out. I failed Maths, so I'm making this up to sound smart.)