━━━━»•» act four. age of glory

52. bound by blood «•« ━━━━

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ third age ━━ year 3019

𓇻 rohan; dunharrow

THE TENT WAS COVERED WITH TAPESTRYS ON THE INSIDE TO KEEP THE WARMTH IN. Patterns of red and green greeted her as she followed Aragorn inside. Two hammocks were placed in between the thickest wooden stakes keeping the structure up. There was a chest in the corner, filled with all the required medicinal necessities she had asked to bring along. Several candles lit up the space, flickering when the cloth was moved by the wind outside.

Aragorn was seated upon furs placed on the ground; the sword he'd been given on his lap. His fingers traced the patterns, his thoughts wandering through the stories of old that belonged to his blood line, now coming back to pull at the threads of his future.

She took off her cloak and sat down beside him. Words burned on her tongue, but she forced them down. This was his decision to make and, having made more than a few decisions burdened by a crown herself, she did not want to influence his choice by false reassurances. How could she tell him she wished he wouldn't take a path that might lead to the salvation of his people? No matter how much the ghosts of cursed traitors scared her, she couldn't possibly tell him not going was the right decision either.

"They came a long way to see you," she said at last, unable to bear the silence any longer.

He smiled, warmth of old memories shining from his face. "I have spent long years among them. They are my friends, my kin. I'm most grateful they came."

She wished she could tell him how it was so clear that he was the reason they came. His leadership, the crown awaiting him gave them hope and the fire to fight. But he would never accept such words and so she did not say it. For she wouldn't have accepted such praise either.

"I never thought to see this sword remade," he said, his fingers running along the sword.

The silver blade seemed to shimmer with a light shining from within, unable to be dimmed by even the darkest of shadows. A blade with just as much history held within as both their bloodlines. It seemed the heirs of the kings who marched against Sauron with this blade, were fated to do so once again. Who could say if this would truly be the end of their long fight?

She put a hand on his arm. "Lord Elrond clearly meant for it to give you strength for the road ahead, whichever road it might be."

A soft sigh left his lips, his gaze far away. "Even now my path seems veiled."

Her heart ached upon seeing him so filled with doubt, so unsure of how he could possibly do the right thing by his people. "Then tell me what burdens you."

He turned to look at her, grey eyes shining with a light she had not seen there before. The very same light she noticed upon seeing him standing among the Grey Company. The meaning of it hummed through her veins and made her shiver. Kingly.

"No matter what path I take, death awaits at every turn."

The burden of the crown, the burden of being a king. He had known it would weigh on him, but now that he truly felt it, she could see it was heavier than he had ever expected.

Elgarain squeezed his arm softly, feeling him lean against her. "The world is filled with shadows these days. There is no way to seek the path to the light without passing through the darkness."

A small smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "You are wise, anarinya."

"I wasn't always," she said, smiling as well. "But leading my people made me so." She moved her hand to his cheek, cupped it as her smile faded. "There is no way to know which path is the right one. So, follow the one that you judge to be best and leave the rest to fate. The only way you can ever fail your people is by choosing no path at all."

His gaze fell down to the sword again. As he put the blade back into the scabbard and put it aside, he muttered: "Ónen i-Estel Edain. Ú-chebin estel anim."

The words last spoken to him by his mother held an entirely different meaning now. As Gilraen had given up her son to be the hope of men, Aragorn would now have to carry the heavy burden of a crown. To give hope, even if he himself had none.

How many nights had she spent awake, wondering if the borders were safe enough, while her people slept safe and sound inside their walls? How many wounds had she healed, while her heart was torn open wide by pain and regret? She had given her people hope, but left her hope, Estel, behind in the years of her childhood. Looking back on it now, she could hardly regret the choice, but that did not make the pain any less. That was a future she never wished for him.

"Let me be your hope," she said, turning his face back to hers with her fingers beneath his chin. "Even if you have none, I will." She kissed him and whispered against his lips: "I will."

He answered her kiss with flaming intensity, one hand in her hair, the other pulling her closer by her waist. There was no way she would ever get used to the fire his touch ignited within her. It was all consuming, leaving her warm and yet shivering. The flame burned within her and tonight, she would let it consume her.

Her fingers pulled at the knots of his collar, and he let her take off his shirt. His chest was scarred and muscled, felt perfect beneath her touch. She left traces of kisses down his neck, felt her heart jump when he shivered beneath her touch.

Her dress followed his shirt, as did his trousers, a meaningless pile of cloth neither of them could be bothered with right now. Softly he put her down, his body warm against her. He pulled her closer, until there was no more space left between them. A gasp fell from her lips and the smile on his face could have saved her from ever feeling sadness again. He was all that flooded her senses, her hands on his back, his smell intoxicating her, his lips devouring her.

If there was nothing else left to live for, this would be what gave her hope. He would be her hope.

*.                             ✦                              °.

She wasn't sure exactly what woke her, for he barely made a sound. Maybe her father was watching from beyond the sea and was allowed this one pull at her consciousness to warn her. Maybe it was simply the fact she had known the path he would take. Of course she had known what he would choose, for there was only one true option after all. A fool's hope but hope none the less.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the cloth of the door being closed. The hammock beside her was empty. Her exhaustion melted like snow beneath the sun. She sat up, put her shoes on and clasped her cloak around her neck with the brooch gifted to them by Galadriel. She left the warmth of the tent behind and stepped outside.

A few fires were still flickering within the dark. Soldiers unable to sleep were huddled close together, telling stories or playing games to keep their nightmares at bay. Elgarain ignored them and headed towards the fire she'd been seated at last. The night had grown colder in the few hours she'd slept and she pulled her cloak closer around her shivering body.

Aragorn would be headed to the horses, but she had another stop to make first. She refused to let him make this journey alone. And she knew she would not be the only one to think so.

She noticed Gyda first, the Elleth was seated beside Galion and Eowyn. Both Gimli and Legolas were also still seated there. Along with Elladan, Elrohir and Halbarad. She approached them and watched as Gyda turned to look at her upon hearing her footsteps.

"He's leaving," she said. "Alone."

There was no need to say more, they all understood.

"So he thinks," Halbarad said, getting to his feet. "I'll gather the company. We'll wait for you at the entrance of the road beneath the mountain."

Elgarain nodded at him, grateful. Then her gaze turned to the others. "I know we all have our fears and doubts. The path of the dead will not be an easy one to take. But I will take it nonetheless, because it is the path Aragorn has chosen to go. Will you come with us?"

She would not have blamed any of them for staying. To follow the Rohirrim to Minis Tirith was just as noble a cause and the shadow of the mountain was a dark road filled with unknown dangers. Though it would shatter her heart, she would not hold it against them.

Gyda stood, "I promised my sword to Frodo, I shall do the same for Aragorn, whichever road he chooses is the one I will take."

She smiled. "Allon allen, nesa."

Legolas got to his feet. "As will I."

With a heavy sigh Gimli followed. "Well, you Elves know nothing of stone and mountains, you'll need a Dwarf with you." He smiled. "I will always follow that lad."

Elladan and Elrohir stood with graceful movements and bowed with their fists placed upon their hearts.

"Thank you, my friends," Elgarain said. "Our horses are stalled with his. I'm sure we'll find him there."

Gyda turned to look at Eowyn. "Eowyn, may I ask you to look after Merry as you take the road to Minas Tirith? I would be at ease to know someone will look out for him."

A moment passed before the blonde nodded, "Of course. I will watch him as if he is my own kin."

"For that, you have our deepest thanks, my Lady," Elgarain said with a nod.

Then she turned and headed towards the stables. The others followed close behind, a solemn heaviness between them as the path they had to take had been decided. As they rounded the corner, she could see Brego had been saddled up and Aragorn was now leading him by the reins, away from the encampment.

"Just where do you think you're off to?" Gimli's voice boomed through the night.

Aragorn halted, his shoulders tensioned slightly, as though he'd expected this to happen. He turned, a frown carved on his face as he shook his head. "Not this time," he spoke, "this time you must stay."

"How can you say such a thing?" Elgarain said, taking a step forward.

"It is too dangerous," he said, an ache in his voice that she recognized as worry.

She took another step closer and took his hand in hers. "Every road we take from here is dangerous. I'd rather face that with you because I've tried without you before and I couldn't bear it."

Silence lingered as her words seemed to slowly crumble his last resolve.

"Besides," Legolas joined in, already holding Arod by his reins. "Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?"

A spark lit up the grey of his eyes, and she was sure there was a laugh hidden there, only stopped from showing itself by the heavy burden now weighing on his shoulder.

"You might as well accept it," Gimli grinned. "We're going with you laddie."

"When we started this journey we all knew it was not without danger—I will not abandon my promise." Gyda added surely.

"And not just us," Galion added. "Your kinspeople are gathering at this very moment."

The last of his walls were lowered and Aragorn finally nodded. "Then, I'm glad for your company."

They saddled their horses, while Elladan was quick to gather some provisions for the road. This time, Elgarain took her own horse; a white mare. She had only taken a small pouch of her healing equipment from the tent but there was no time, or room, to take more. She could only hope she wouldn't need it.

As they made their way through the camp, the soldiers still gathered around the fire noticed their departure. Slowly they got to their feet, some calling out Aragorn's name or whispering among each other why he would flee. But as they approached the crack in the mountain leading to the path of the dead, the whispers died down. Surely the man of Rohan thought them to be mad.

The Grey Company was waiting for them at the entrance, as they promised they would. Halbarad moved his horse towards Aragorn and nodded at him.

"We did not come all this way to let you face this alone, my friend."

Aragorn bowed his head. "Forgive me."

"There's no need," Halbarad said with a shake of his head.

Then, with Aragorn at the front of their company, they left the encampment behind and moved into the shadows of the mountain. The path was just wide enough for two horses to ride beside each other. Steep, rocky walls rose on both sides of the road. It curled around the foot of the mountain and led them further towards the forest where they would find the entrance to the Path of the Dead.

Elgarain found herself riding beside Galion and she was glad for his company after all this time. Gyda rode behind them, with Legolas and Gimli beside her. She knew there was no way she could ask her question without her friend hearing it, yet her heart was burning for the answer. It had been ever since she left Imladris with the fellowship all those months ago.

"Galion, I have to ask you something and as your Queen I demand an honest answer."

He flashed her his infectious smile. "As you command, Tarinya."

She held on tightly to the reins, the leather sharp against her skin. "Do our people resent me for leaving?"

His smile disappeared and he stared ahead, pondering the words. Her heart was beating far too fast in her chest as she waited for him to gather himself and find a way to voice the truth.

"Your presence is missed, Tarinya," he said at last. "Considering the secret nature of the Fellowship, not everyone understands why exactly you left. While yes, some are hurt by your choice, I have not heard anyone speak of you with resentment."

She raised a questioning brow.

"You are loved by your people, El," he said softly.

An unexpected warmth engulfed her, and she loosened her grip on the reins. A small part of the weight she had carried all this time was lifted off her chest. Perhaps now she could finally make peace with the choices she'd made.

"Thank you, mellon nin."

He bowed his head at her. "Now, if I may, I have a question myself."

She eyed him, suspicious at his jesting tone. "Alright."

"What exactly has happened to my close hearted friend and her princeling?"

"I heard that!" Gyda called out from behind them.

Galion's laugh echoed between the mountain and brought an ease to the tense air. "You were supposed to," he called back.

Elgarain grinned. "Sadly, I do not know much. Though I have wondered about the truth of it as well."

Gyda tilted her chin up and averted her eyes, "I rather think such conversations have no place among company nor on dangerous roads."

"What about you Legolas?" Galion continued, pretending not to hear his friend. "You have somehow opened Gyda's heart, care to explain how you did it? Because I have yet to determine if you have earned her affections."

Legolas simply smiled. "Then rest assured I know her well enough not to talk of things she doesn't wish to disclose."

A thoughtful expression crossed Galion's face before he smiled, "It seems I shall be at peace then."

"What about your own heart?" Elgarain asked with a sly smile. "How is the Lady Arwen doing?"

Upon hearing the mention of his sister, Elrohir turned around swiftly. While Elladan only laughed and Galion pretended not to see the stern look of the Ellon. Which was truly quite a feat, considering the likeness of the stern look Lord Elrond would often wear was very close. There were very few known to withstand that gaze.

"She is lovely as always," Galion said, a lightness to his voice that made it sound like he might float if he could. "Though I do not see her as often as I wish."

"I am sure she shares the same sentiment, my dear friend." Gyda offered with a warm smile, leading her own horse closer to his.

"I trust you on that, seeing as you are now as experienced on this matter as I am," he replied with an equally warm smile.

"I am not above toppling you off of your horse Galion."

The Ellon faked a shocked expression, causing Elgarain to burst into bright laughter. For a moment, the darkness of the mountain was lit by the warmth of years of companionship rekindled by a bright flame.

As they drove on the path became wider and the mountain slopes started to disappear between thick dark trees. They talked of their adventures, though both Elgarain and Gyda were careful in sharing too many details with their friend. They mentioned nothing of Frodo and Sam, afraid of evil ears listening in. But the story of Gandalf's death and return was shared, as well as Elgarain's abduction by the Uruk-Hai and the chase Gyda, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas had set upon. Though they didn't mention the dreams they shared or how intertwined their spirits had become. Without needing words, Elgarain felt they both needed more time to tell their friend of the dark fate that awaited one of them. For now, by not speaking of it, they could pretend nothing had happened.

Slowly the forest became thicker, and their voices died away, stifled by the shadows that seemed to inhabit the trees. Elgarain had never felt such gloom within a forest. It reminded her of the feeling of walking through the Mines of Moria; a never ending darkness stretching out around her, clawing at her with cold talons.

Their horses bristled nervously, and it took them much effort to keep the animals moving. Soon, she could spot ancient stones between the trees. Strange symbols were carved into the rock, far too deep to be made with any knife. A shiver crawled down her spine and she turned her gaze away.

At last, they came to a small glade at the foot of the mountain. A single stone stood tall in the middle of the open place between the trees. The horses refused to pass it, forcing them to leave the animals behind and continue on foot. Hopefully they would find them again, though considering the way of the Rohirrim, it was more likely the horses would find them instead. After all, Brego had saved Aragorn before and brought him safely to Helm's Deep.

They continued across the glade and through the dark foliage. No one spoke, no one hardly seemed to breathe. The air grew colder and heavier, pressing down on her like a cloak that was far too heavy, forcing to drag her down.

Finally, they came to a halt. Elgarain shared a look with Gyda and as one, they moved towards the front of their company, followed closely by Galion, Legolas and Gimli. At the head of the company stood Aragorn together with Halbarad. When her eyes fell upon why they halted, she couldn't stop the small gasp escaping her.

A dark door gaped before them, carved from the stone of the mountain itself. The same strange symbols she'd seen on the stones were chiselled in the pillars on both sides of the door here. The language was unknown to her but her heart understood its meaning: turn back or meet your doom.

"The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away," Gimli muttered beside her.

"Only rot and deceit live beyond those doors." Gyda murmured with caution.

"The way is shut." Legolas regarded the carvings on the stones, "it was made by those who are dead...and the dead keep it."

For a moment none of them moved, facing the path before them with heavy hearts. Then Aragorn lit one of the torches he'd taken from the encampment and stepped forward. "I do not fear death," he spoke and disappeared within the darkness.

Elgarain took a deep breath and followed him, feeling as though invisible fingers pulled at her skin as she stepped beneath the door and the shadows embraced her. 

°∴,*⋅✲✦ ( ♕ ) ✦✲⋅*,∴°

𝕬𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝕹𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . .

Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while, life's been busy. But Chloe and I are planning on finishing this book before the end of the year, so hopefully updates will be coming more frequently from now on.

I'm very excited to have reached this part of the story. I found the path of the dead really fascinating in both the books and movies. And it's so fun to put my own spin on it. Also, that moment between Elgarain and Aragorn was a loooooong time coming ;) Hope you guys enjoyed it!

xx Nelly

TRANSLATIONS:

Ónen i-Estel Edain. Ú-chebin estel anim ― I give hope to men. I keep none for myself

Anarinya ― My sun

Annon allen ― I give thanks to you

Nésa ― Sister

Mellon nin ― My friend

Tarinya ― My Queen