to love someone else

Chapter 41: after the war

They held the embrace for several moments amid the cheering and celebration that the battle of Helm's Deep was over, but remembered duties on both sides broke them apart. Aragorn drank in Eowyn's joyful smile. "You're all right," he said. "When the Orcs broke through, I thought ..." Then he saw her hands and the remnants of the blood she hadn't been able to scrub completely off. "Eowyn ..."

"A few got through," she said calmly. "We stopped them." He would have laughed if not for the whimpers of the wounded that were beginning to drown out the cheers. "More fools they, challenging a shield maiden of Rohan." She blushed and looked away, fighting a smile.

A queen of men, Aragorn thought, and the phrase echoed in the corners of his mind. A Queen for the race of Men. As he was meant to be their King. When he'd lived his life quietly, avoiding the destiny so many insisted he follow, he'd given his love without thought of what was expected of him. Now Arwen was gone to safety, away from the trials and war that were claiming Middle Earth. She was too fair for such troubles. One of the women hurried up and tugged on Eowyn's sleeve. "Lady, you're needed. There's folk hurt." Eowyn looked out over the ruined walls of the Keep and the Deeping. Tears started in her eyes at all the bodies, then she firmed her shoulders. "I'll be right there." She turned to follow the woman, then looked back at Aragorn. "You should rest. We'll need your help later." The expectation in her eyes wounded him. "I need to speak to Gandalf. There are--matters to discuss." He looked back towards the east, where the morning's bright sunrise was being dimmed by ugly clouds.

She stepped towards him. "You're leaving again."

"I must. This war is only starting." Daughter of warriors, she knew better than to protest, but her face spoke volumes. "When?"

"I don't know. Soon." She put a hand on his arm. "After you've eaten and gotten some rest." "I must find Gan--" Eowyn interrupted, "If you collapse from hunger and exhaustion, I don't think he'll be impressed." He snickered before he could stop himself, then got himself under control. He bowed deeply. "Yes, my lady. Do you know where Legolas and the others are?" She did her best not to smile at him. It wasn't quite enough. "Gimli is in the great hall, eating like the sensible person he is." Her smile faded. "Legolas is with the elves, tending their wounded."

"I should go help him--"

"Aragorn--"

"I must! They've lost Haldir, death is a stranger to them, Aerin is going mad. I understand them, I can help." She nodded after a moment. "Promise me you'll take some time for yourself soon," she said softly. He took her hand in his filthy one and kissed the knuckles. "I promise." Once again he saw the dried blood in the lines of the skin and under her nails. "Promise me you'll get some rest as well. You've done a hero's work tonight." Her smile held as much resignation as pleasure. "The hero's work is done. The woman's work is just beginning." She squeezed his hand, then walked away. She put a finger over his lips, then slowly dropped her hand to briefly touch the silvery jewel he wore at his throat. "There's another face in your mind," she whispered. "She has left Middle Earth."

"But not your heart."

Aragorn dropped his eyes, unable to deny it. Arwen's voice whispered in his ear, her perfume drifted through his dreams. When he touched Eowyn's skin, he was always faintly surprised at the human roughness when his fingers expected elven silk. "I am not toying with you, Eowyn."

"I know." Her voice was quiet, as if she was sure that no one lived who would trifle with Eowyn of Rohan. "You said you'd be leaving soon. Do you know when?" He sighed. "In two days. Gandalf has heard rumours of Orthanc, we must go see."

"You should get some sleep, then, before you continue your journey. Good night, my lord." She rose and walked to the doorway. As Aragorn walked back to the bed chambers saw Legolas leaning on a pillar looking up at the stars from a nearby window. "So how many?" He asked. Legolas looked up, peering at Aragorn through narrowed eyes. He was sure that Aragorn already knew the answer. Judging by the smile that was threatening to break out on his friend's face, he was right. "42," he said with a sigh. "And how many did Gimli kill?"

"43," he replied sulkily. "How did you lose the advantage?" Aragorn asked. "You started earlier. Ranged weapons, remember?" "I've been trying to figure that out myself," he admitted. "It must have been the causeway." Aragorn seemed mildly surprised. "Dwarves are best in close quarters and I lost time trying to pull you two up." Aragorn nodded and started to walk away. "If it makes you feel any better," he called over his shoulder. "I had to toss him." A beat passed and then Legolas was scrambling to catch up with him. "You what?" he asked, a positively gleeful note in his voice.

For a moment, Aragorn regretted telling Legolas what had transpired on the causeway of Helm's Deep but then, he thought, Gimli had been entirely too prideful the last few hours. "The distance was too far," he said evenly. "I had to toss him." A broad grin spread over the Elf's face and he hurriedly added, "You won't tease him about it, will you?" The smile on Legolas' face was dreamy and a glazed look had come into his eyes. "Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, hurrying off. There was silence for a moment. Then a gruff, Dwarven voice yelled from across the corridor, "Aragorn! You promised you wouldn't tell him!" Aragorn then ran off with an angry small red haired dwarf chasing after him carrying his axe.