Prequel to my version of The Lord of The Rings trilogy

Aragorn Takes the Path of the Dead

As the first light of dawn broke over the camp, Aragorn, Liv, and David worked quickly to ready their horses for departure. The sounds of bustling soldiers and the distant clamor of preparations for battle seemed to fade into the background as they moved with a quiet urgency. Each of them knew the importance of what lay ahead, yet their task was no less heavy for it.

From the shadows of the tents, Eowyn approached Aragorn. She had seen the preparations, heard the whispers, and now could no longer remain silent.

"Why are you doing this?" Eowyn's voice was sharp, laced with frustration and a hint of desperation. "The war lies to the East. You cannot leave on the eve of battle. You cannot abandon the men."

Aragorn paused, looking up at her, his expression unreadable. The weight of her words hung between them.

"Eowyn," he said, his voice low, as though his heart ached with the truth of it. "I do not abandon them. But my path lies elsewhere." He met her gaze, his eyes filled with sorrow and something deeper, something she could not name. "We need you here."

Eowyn stepped closer, her hands clenched at her sides. "Why have you come?" Aragorn asked softly, a question he knew the answer to, but still needed to hear from her.

"Do you not know?" Eowyn whispered, her eyes searching his. She stepped forward again, almost within reach, but Aragorn took a step back, the distance between them now not only physical but emotional.

"It is but a shadow and a thought that you love. I cannot give you what you seek," Aragorn said, his words heavy with the weight of his own heartache. His gaze softened as he saw the tear that formed in the corner of Eowyn's eye, but he couldn't bridge the distance between them.

Eowyn's face crumpled, a mixture of grief and anger rushing to the surface. She backed away, her eyes blazing with unshed tears, her heart breaking at the truth of his words. He could not give her what she sought because his heart had already been claimed.

She turned away, her back to him, tears streaming down her face. Aragorn's hand reached out instinctively, but he pulled it back, unwilling to reach for a future that would never be.

He turned and walked away, Liv and David following closely behind. Eowyn stood alone, her breath shallow as the tears fell freely now.

As Aragorn, Liv, and David moved through the camp, the sounds of their departure echoed in the still morning air. They were leaving, and the men would soon follow. But there was no turning back now.

Gimli sat near the campfire, a thoughtful expression on his face, his axe resting on his knee. He watched as the three of them passed by, his gaze shifting toward Aragorn.

"Just where do you think you're off to?" Gimli called out, his voice gruff with concern and curiosity.

Aragorn stopped and turned toward him, his face unreadable. "Not this time," he said quietly. "This time, you must stay, Gimli."

Gimli crossed his arms over his chest with a grunt of dissatisfaction. "Hm."

Legolas appeared beside Aragorn, his horse in tow, his face calm but with a slight furrow of concern. "Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" Legolas asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Liv smiled at that, a faint amusement flickering in her gaze. "He's got a point," she said.

Gimli shot her a glance but then grinned. "You might as well accept it. We're going with you, laddie."

Aragorn smiled in spite of himself, a brief moment of lightness amidst the gravity of their situation. "Then we ride together," he said, his voice filled with quiet resolve.

The five of them mounted their horses and rode out of the camp, the weight of their decisions heavy in the silence that followed. As they moved toward the Dimholt Road, the sight of their departure did not go unnoticed. Theoden, standing at the edge of the camp, watched as they disappeared into the cleft between the rocks, his expression grave. Behind him, the soldiers murmured among themselves.

"What's happening? Where is he going?" one soldier asked, confusion etched on his face. "I don't understand. Lord Aragorn... why does he leave on the eve of battle?"

A quiet, solemn voice spoke up from the shadows of the tents. "He leaves because there is no hope," said Gamling, his voice steady but filled with sorrow. "He leaves because he must."

Haldir stood nearby, his gaze distant as he took in the scene. The air was thick with the knowledge that their chances of survival were slim. "Too few have come," Gamling added, his voice low. "We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor."

Hama nodded in agreement, his face grim. Theoden remained silent for a long moment, his mind turning over the weight of Gamling's words. Finally, he shook his head, his heart full of resolve.

"No, we cannot. But we will meet them in battle nonetheless," Theoden said firmly. "And Liv has reinforcements coming." His voice held the quiet hope of someone who had lived too long with the knowledge of his people's fate, yet refused to surrender.

The soldiers nodded, murmuring among themselves, their spirits lifted slightly by the king's words. Theoden's eyes lingered on the road where Aragorn, Liv, David, Gimli, and Legolas had disappeared, a fleeting moment of understanding passing between them.

The battle was not over. It was just beginning.