Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, places, or plot. They all belong to the Tolkien Estate and whoever else shares the rights to the wonderful trilogy.

Author's Note: This is based on Tolkien's original draft and notes. Please let me know what you think.

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A True Love Lost

Aragorn sighs and a tired smile flees across his face as Merry opens his eyes. Welcome back, little one.

Merry blinks and looks around the unfamiliar room, trying to recall how he got here. He then notices several faces peering down at him. There are Aragorn…Gandalf…and Eomer. At seeing the marshal, Merry's eyes dart over the faces again and around the room wildly.

"Where is she? Where is Eowyn?" he asks, panic building inside him.

Eowyn? Aragorn wonders. He looks toward Eomer.

"Eowyn is dead, Merry," Eomer tells the hobbit in a quiet voice.

Merry looks stricken. "Dead…? She can't be! She killed… She did what no man could have done…the Witch King said so." Tears form in Merry's eyes as the truth sinks in.

Aragorn can hardly breathe. Eowyn…dead? When? How? His heart freezes when Merry mentions the Witch King. Thoughts and questions spin endlessly in his head.

"She is laid down next to her Lord," Eomer interrupts Aragorn's thoughts, "in the Hall of the Tower."

Aragorn looks back and forth between Eomer and Merry, who is now silently weeping. "What tale is this that I do not know of?" he whispers in a husky voice.

Then he hears tell of a deed that will be remembered for many years in Middle Earth, of an ancient prophecy now fulfilled. Aragorn listens to Merry, awed and dismayed at the same time. When all has been said, a sorrowful silence hangs in the air.

"Eomer, would you stay with Merry for a little while?" Gandalf asks.

The marshal nods and goes to sit by the hobbit. The wizard steers Aragorn from the room and through several hallways and staircases. The only noise is of their footsteps which echo, bouncing off the walls. Finally, Gandalf pauses before two large doors.

"Here is the Hall of the Tower," he quietly informs.

Aragorn nods, suddenly incapable of speaking, and they enter. His and Gandalf's eyes are drawn towards the end of the hall. Lying in front of the dais is Théoden, King of the Mark, and the Lady Eowyn, niece of the king, on beds of state. Guards stand around them.

Aragorn first goes to the king. Théoden's sword lies upon his chest and his shield at his feet. In death wariness and sorrow are gone from his face, replaced with peace, youth, and fairness. Aragorn looks on Théoden with sadness and respect. He bows his head in farewell and then moves to the side of Eowyn. The shards of her sword are at her feet. Her face is slightly sad but also looks peaceful. She appears to only be in slumber. Her pale skin glows in the light from the candles that surround her and the king. Aragorn softly touches her hair, which is spread about her.

Aragorn thinks back to the last time he saw Eowyn. He and those with him were about to leave for the Paths of the Dead when the Lady Eowyn came to bid them farewell. She had begged to go with him, but he had said nay. He would not risk such a fair thing in so evil peril. She had knelt before him with tears in her eyes. He had been firm and raised her to her feet, carefully kissing her hand, and left her without another word, though there was much in his heart that he both wanted to say and not say. He had ridden away, but his heart had been heavy.

Continuing to stroke Eowyn's hair, Aragorn then remembers the visit she had paid him the night before he left. She begged him not to go. But it was her parting words that were burned in his memory.

"Those who go with you have no reason to – they go because they love you. As do I."

Those small three words were only a whisper as she quickly turned and walked into the darkness. But Aragorn heard them and gazed after her. He had been tempted to follow, but he had stayed. And I you, my Lady.

And now here the Lady lies; she had despaired because she could not be free and had thought her affections were not returned. He had been well aware of her feelings, but he never showed what he felt towards her. He never told her that his heart belonged to her alone. She obviously never suspected. And now she would never know.

Paying no mind to those who stand in the hall, Aragorn presses his lips against Eowyn's cold ones for a long moment. Then with a sad sigh he pulls away. He gazes at her closed eyelids; no more will she turn pools of pale blue towards him. His gaze travels to her golden hair, which will not be blown in the wind again.

Aragorn leaves the hall as quietly as he had entered it.

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Many of the king's advisors said there could still be an alliance between Rohan and Gondor. There was Idis, also of royal blood, Théoden's daughter. But Aragorn rejected the suggestion. He swore he would never marry and to the dismay of many held to his promise until the end of his days.

THE END