The way to Gondor (Aragorn and Legolas fanfic)

A new beginning

Third person POV

The yard was crowded, but it was not noisy as one would expect from such a mass of people. Black dresses and gowns were seen everywhere, and the men and women of Gondor talked in hushed voices. It was the day of king Théoden's funeral, and it was a day of grieving and remembering. In the shadows of the walls of Minas Tirith, a lonesome guard held his post, ordered by Gandalf to represent the guards of the capital city. He was also responsible for a safe ceremony. His name was Beregond, and it was him who first had defied Denethor, to keep his son Faramir from burning.

In the very first row stood the former fellowship of the ring, except Aragorn, who, as a king, stood in front of his people in the king's livery, with the white tree on his chest. Behind him was the coffin, covered with flowers, and next to it, the man probably most affected by the king's death. It was the third marshall of the Mark, Éomer, who later would be crowned king of Rohan. He looked somewhere into the distance, his eyes filled with tears.

"Dear people of Gondor, and dear guests from Rohan!", Aragorn started his speech. "Today we are gathered not to celebrate, but to grieve. A beloved man has left us, a kind and fair king, a great uncle." He shot one glance at Éomer, and then at lady Éowyn in the crowd, to see if they were ok. "Let us have a silent minute for King Théoden, who fought bravely in the battle of the Pelennor Fields, and is now travelling where no living man can follow."

A single tear rolled down Éomer's cheek, and the guard in the shadow watched him with sorrowful eyes. In the meanwhile, the crowd went even more silent and together, they recalled the dead king in their minds and remembered his bravery and kindness. 

"Thank you", Aragorn spoke again. "Now let this man rest in piece and never vanish from our memory!"

He finished the service and the crowd began to disperse. Only Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Éomer, Éowyn and Faramir stayed behind. The Rohan siblings both had tears running down their cheeks as they said goodbye to their uncle one last time. Faramir held the woman in his arms, holding her upright as she sobbed silently, leaving wet stains on his vest. Then they, too, left the yard.

The future king of Rohan was standing alone with his grief, swaying like a leaf in the wind and he seemed to fall any minute. Fall into a dark place of sorrow and he had no one to help him out of it. Because his sister would marry Faramir, and she would live in Gondor with her husband. And Éomer had to return home, his dead uncle constantly wheighing him down, and the first thing he would bring his country was the king's dead body. 

The guard under the wall came up to the group and said to Gandalf:

"If you need any more help, please let me know what I can do!"

The wizard nodded and smiled.

"Thank you, Beregond."

The king turned around too and his face lit up in a kind smile when he saw his most loyal man and guard of his city.

"Your majesty", Beregond said and bowed. 

"Beregond", he replied. "Thank you very much for your service. We will gather to have dinner soon, so if you want to join us?"

"Of course, my king, it would be an honour", the man answered. Aragorn nodded, then also decided to leave the yard. Legolas, Gandalf, Éowyn and Faramir followed him, but Éomer hadn't moved a bit. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, but they dragged him into a place of darkness.

"Can I help you somehow, sir Éomer?", Beregond asked. "I know how it feels like to lose someone you love."

The guard thought of his own father, who had died a few years ago, trying to protect his trading ship from corsairs out on the great sea. He remembered, how hard it was to even believe, that he was gone.

"I apologize", Éomer answered. "I should be stronger, I should be able to deal with this. We all knew, after all, that he wouldn't last much longer. But I never thought how much it hurt."

The tears still ran down his cheeks, but he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Beregond put a hand on the other man's arm. 

"You are strong", he told him. "Just by standing here you show your strength. And it is ok to sorrow."

Éomer looked into the other man's eyes and found the comfort he needed. Even though he didn't know how or why, the guard made him feel safe and valued. Not forgotten, like he had felt just some minutes ago, when he had seen Éowyn with Faramir. 

"May I ask your name?", he questioned.

"Sir, I am Beregond, head of the king's guards", Beregond replied with a smile on his face. 

"Nice to meet you, Beregond!", Éomer said.

"Nice to meet you too, Éomer."

The two of them left the coffin at last, filing into the Great Hall for dinner. They sat next to each other on the bench and got to know each other better. At the end of the evening, Éomer knew he had met someone he could rely on, someone who understood him. They shared a passionate interest in horses and red apples and Beregond had invited Éomer over to his house the next day, to play a game of chess, which they both loved. 

It was the beginning of a long-lasting friendship, that would even lead Beregond to leave the king's service, leave Minas Tirith, leave Gondor and follow his heart to the land he since childhood had wished to see. Where horses ran freely over the fields, red apples made the trees bend under their load, and the man who had opened a chamber of affection in his heart, that he hadn't known existed, was the king. 

I hope this chapter is not too cheesy, and please just ignore the fact that Beregond had a son and a wife in the books, because I just ignored it too. And don't tell me you had forgotten who Beregond was...