NOTE: Thank you guys so much who reviewed and who are reading this! It means a lot :). Ah, there is still a good bit to go as well now that their life together is beginning. We will see Eldarion soon too. Enjoy!

golden lorien: Wow, thanks so much! I’m very glad to know that the characters are coming off well with their emotions and such. Thanks again for letting me know what you think.

Lady of Imladris: Thank you! I hoped it would be.

mIthrandIr: Thanks for the feedback :). Yeah, it can be melodramatic at times, but… ah well. I wrote this when I was still not honed as a writer, lol. Yes, I did start writing Aragorn’s service in Rohan and Gondor, but it hasn’t really worked. I may someday try to do it again. Thanks!

Istarnie: Here’s more! And there’s much more to come :). Thank you so very much for your kind words!

* * * * * * * * *
Chapter 25: Renewal

Arwen donned on travelling garments and her silvery cloak for the journey to Edoras. Aragorn joined her outside the White Tower where many Elves waited. Their shifting cloaks shimmered in the soft sunlight gilded in puffy, white clouds. Those with hoods drawn back had hair that glimmered when they turned their heads and eyes shining stars like deep pools of water. At their head stood Galadriel and Celeborn speaking to Elrond and his two sons. The four hobbits rode their ponies close behind the King who wore a white cape and the glittering Elfstone, the green gem given him by the Lady Galadriel who had been instructed to give it him from Arwen.

Aragorn, Éomer, Éowyn, Faramir, Merry, the Rohirrim, and Arwen had escorted the body of Théoden, son of Thengel, from inside the Tower. Sombre silence fell through the ranks of Men and Elves. The entire city of Minas Tirith seemed to have a reverent quiet to its white streets in honour of those who had given their lives for the greater freedom of Middle-earth.

The mood was carried on for the next few days though the dear Periannath could not push away their inborn cheeriness and light hearts. Merry was the only one that seemed gouged by the dismal yet fair procession moving across the plains and past the mountains. Arwen had seen the way he glanced at the shrouded figure of cold death the Rohan men carried.

Arwen watched her beloved from the corner of her eye. He had changed so quickly from Ranger of the North to King of Gondor and Arnor — not to mention all of Men — and had slipped into place as if he had been taken out originally only to be returned later. Arwen smiled softly and patted her white mare’s neck. She gazed more intently ahead when a hill loomed up in the lush plains covered in wood and stone buildings while the largest glittered in the sunlight. It was the hall of Meduseld.

Théoden’s golden bier was carried in to Edoras while its people lined the streets to pay respect to their past king whose name had earned a high place in their histories. Men along with women wept for the son of Thengel and many did not pay heed to the shining Elves escorting his body for they lowered their heads in honour.

Aragorn dismounted at MeduseldÂ’s golden doors along with the high elven-lords and Arwen. He turned to help her dismount, finding her already down beside him. He smiled softly and offered his arm to her which she took gladly.

The funeral of Théoden son of Thengel touched hearts and livened the memory of the honourable man in their minds. The last tears were shed and wiped away; the last grieving spent.

Now the greatest feast that had taken place in the Golden Hall was begun. Éomer was made king of all Rohan and Arwen heard Aragorn slowly exhale in relief when Faramir and Éowyn announced their betrothal. She had seen the gaze of Éowyn and known that she had once loved Aragorn. At first it had set a different impression of the golden haired woman, yet Arwen had forgiven her, knowing how tempting it would be to just love Estel. She also sighed with relief as she caught the true love shining in Éowyn’s eyes when she met Faramir’s gaze. At last the fair Lady of Rohan had found her place and one who would return her love.

Glittering torches lined the walls setting a warm light to the hall decorated in rich reds, browns, and greens. Gold gilt work flowed up the pillars and across the roof matching the golden rooftop for which the hall of Edoras was named: Meduseld. Colourful depictions of the RohirrimsÂ’ history covered the walls on the woven tapestries and banners.

Aragorn and Éomer laughed mirthfully in each other’s company and found comfort in the other’s friendship. Arwen knew the tightly bound alliance between Gondor and Rohan would last for many long years after they had passed, that their bloodlines would remain close for as long. War and circumstance had brought the two mighty men together as fate wove its pattern, so that through such they had become companions to last all of their long lives.

Wine was poured freely, bread was broken continually, and merry singing filled the hall as the Men of Rohan inquired of the Elves to honour them with songs of their kindred. In this, resplendent music danced about all who listened bringing to life that which was traced with melodious, divine voices of the Fair Folk, named rightly so by Men. The Golden Hall had never seen such beauty and light in all its time.
* * *
“Namárië, meldanya,” Aragorn murmured as he bid farewell to Arwen where she stood at the doors of Meduseld. She graced him with a beautiful smile and did not bow her head as she had done at each leave-taking of theirs in all the years past when neither knew what the parting would bring. Such beauty she possessed always touched his spirit when he gazed into her eyes the colour of the morning mist or the sky at evening as the stars began to shine.

“Not farewell, my love,” she answered with radiant countenance. “Only a short time shall you be gone. I shall see you not long from now.”

Aragorn smiled and took her hand in his. “Then so be it. Farewell for a moment, Arwen.” He bent to gently kiss her hand.

He mounted his horse, given him by Arwen herself, and rode at the head of the fair company. They would depart to their own ways at last and the Fellowship of the Ring was to be apart until the end of time, for never would they all stand together once again unless it be after the end of the earth. Aragorn rode among his beloved companions with the elven-lords and ladies close behind. Legolas Greenleaf and Gimli son of Glóin shared the same horse Arod and Gandalf the White rode his glorious steed Shadowfax, lord of horses. The proud horse stepped lightly and its glossy coat shimmered in the sunlight as its rider sat erect and silent.

Aragorn signalled their start and looked over his shoulder one last time to see his fair Queen gazing upon him with shining eyes and face. His snow-white cape glimmered as he heeled his horse forward through the streets with the rest following close after. Arwen watched until they had all departed Meduseld’s steps and were scarcely seen moving down the hill of Edoras. She turned to enter unto the Golden Hall once again only to find Éowyn there as well.

“Good day to you, my lady,” she said curtsying. Her eyes were full of curiosity.

“And to you,” Arwen answered graciously.

Éowyn met her gaze confidently. “Their departing is difficult, I am sure.”

“Only for a fleeting moment for there is but a bare time which they shall be gone from here.”

The other woman nodded, but her eyes still held Arwen’s. There was a measuring glitter in their grey depths. Her golden hair glimmered as she turned her head to look out upon the lands from that high place. “Often have I wished to see you, the Evenstar of the Elves who sacrificed their gifts to be with a Mortal Man.” She hesitantly looked again to Arwen. “I suppose I shall never quite understand how.”

Arwen wondered at the woman’s boldness. “Yet you understand something of it, I think.” Her own piercing gaze bore into Éowyn and she saw her lift her head.

“Now, yes,” she said softly. “I believe I do.”

“Come then. Let us speak together and not recall what has passed.” Arwen had no need to say outrightly what she meant for Éowyn was a perceiving woman.

“Yes. That would be well for us.”
* * *
In the brief time Aragorn was not present, Arwen was greeted warmly by those in Meduseld. Some even came to the doors to inquire of the Queen of Gondor and to catch a glimpse of the renowned, fair maiden. Éomer, Éowyn, and Faramir all took joy in her presence as all four usually sat together in the hall. Éowyn especially had a great respect for the maiden who had put aside immortality for a man, the same man she had once loved. Many were beginning to hear of it from someone or other and all watched her with awed faces.

Aragorn returned then with far less companions than before and Arwen grieved briefly to see that her father had gone. They had spoken together privately one last time and her tears could not be repressed at that last moment. All had been spoken that was needed and all was done as well.

He entered the hall, his brow unadorned as before and the Elessar grasping and reflecting all the light in that place. Green specks danced across his throat and white cape.

“Glad we are to see you again,” called Éomer rising to his feet. He had been sitting on the raised chair on the dais.

“And glad am I to arrive once more,” he answered slowing his brisk step once he saw Arwen standing in one of the doorways. “As always, my friend. Bitter was our parting in our Fellowship and I have need to see those who remain here with me.”

Arwen strode to his side and smoothed her draping, dark green skirts. “Bitter was the parting of my kindred knowing that I shall never see them again. Long years will pass but they shall never cross my path.”

Aragorn’s eyes were full of understanding and he touched her cheek. “Yet those long years shall not be passed alone.”

Éomer had become silent and he gazed at the stone beneath his feet for a moment as he awaited them. “What do you intend to do now that the rule of Men is yours, Lord Elessar?”

Aragorn’s eyes alighted, burning with an intent fire. “I intend to set things aright. My messengers will move along the roads again. Lands will be given or added to. All the Enemy’s work will be washed away in Middle-earth no matter where it is. The lands in the East will take much time to mend, yet some day things will grow and life will return. There is a King again in Gondor.”
* * *
Aragorn and Arwen returned to Minas Tirith after a few days in Edoras. They were welcomed heartily by their people and joy sprung up in even the darkest of places. Light shone in all of Minas Tirith as it never had before.

Aragorn at once began rebuilding the City of Kings to resemble its past glory and to go beyond it. The War had taken its toll on the city: the gates had been utterly destroyed — so they were removed from the wall — the fires of the enemy had burnt stone and all that had been out in the streets, and walls had been shattered or felled to the ground. The city had been diminishing through the Third Age even before the War of the Ring had come upon them, so abandoned dwellings were cleansed and built up once again so that men could return to the City of Kings after long years of toil. The banner of the King flew over the White Tower of Ecthelion, proudly fluttering in the cool breeze as its city below was slowly restored.

Celebrating continued in MenÂ’s hearts though they returned to somewhat normal lives better than before now that things were changing for the better. Perhaps they were not quite normal for in days past they had always prepared for battle when they awoke, knowing Mordor was on their doorstep and looked despairingly to the East. Now they looked joyfully to the White Tower gleaming as white crystal seeing that the East was no longer so dark. The King had come again to restore beauty and light to the lands. Many were content with the fact that their children would see days of peace and the rule of a King after hundreds of generations had gazed upon an empty throne.

Faramir, now the Steward to the King, and Éowyn were recently come to their new abode Emyn Arnen for Faramir was set as Prince of Ithilien. Imrahil returned to Dol Amroth after his long time spent with King Elessar while Èomer began his rule in Rohan which was one of the only lands not ruled by the King in Middle-earth.

Gimli son of Glóin had brought many of his kin to the Caves of Aglarond — of which he had at once become enamoured with in the time of the War of the Ring — to dwell in. Once they came there work had begun on a special gift for the new King Elessar Telcontar of Gondor that would aid the city though there was no long much threat upon Minas Tirith. Soon it would be ready.
* * *
Arwen found Aragorn speaking to an assemblage of Dwarves led by Gimli son of Glóin. They had arrived the day before and planned on remaining for a time in the fair City of Kings. There were also Elves of Mirkwood that were come with Legolas, friend of Aragorn and member of the Fellowship of the Ring. Aragorn was discussing the putting in place of the great stone doors they had brought. Minas Tirith had never seen such grand gates with such detail in all its years. The Elves were present to make a request of the new King of the West. They had looked upon the Queen with sad gazes mingled with joyful smiles for, by the tale of Beren and Lúthien, they knew love was the most powerful of beings; it severed differences and tore kin apart.

Aragorn did not even have to turn round to see his wedded Queen. His voice slowed and he smiled. The Dwarves had not yet seen or met the Queen of Gondor. They looked in her direction when Aragorn turned to meet ArwenÂ’s glimmering gaze. There were some few gasps.

Aragorn, noble King beyond compare, lifted a hand towards Arwen palm-upwards. She glided forward, slipping her pale hand into his. Their eyes never left the otherÂ’s as the Dwarves bowed their heads in solemn reverence. Arwen nodded to each of them in turn as Aragorn introduced them.

“…and Gimli son of Glóin who is a dear friend of mine,” he said smiling broadly. “You will wish to know the whereabouts of Legolas, yes?”

Gimli’s chuckle rumbled and he stroked his braided beard. “Ah yes! I had heard he was here with some of his kin as am I. I shall go to him once we are finished!” Through him was the friendship between Elves and Dwarves restored and the rift laid over by a bridge of love and forgiveness.

Gimli again looked upon Arwen Undómiel with eyes full of wonder. “Again I have glimpsed a star come down from the heavens at twilight to grace us with her presence.”

Arwen laughed gently. “And fair are the words of Gimli, and generous is his heart. Thank you, young Dwarf, and may your fortunes soar. Already you have done more than your need. The Elves are grateful for your repairing of our lost alliance. Much thanks is due to you and Legolas Greenleaf.”

Gimli bowed low. “Such praise from you is worth more than all the gems of the mountains.”

Aragorn clasped the Dwarf’s shoulder. “Go then to your friend, good Dwarf.” He looked to the others with shining eyes. “And take what rest you can, my friends, in this fair city.”

They bid him farewell and departed for the noon meal. Arwen laced her fingers through AragornÂ’s and smiled brightly.

“Fairest by far is the star that steps down from heaven than the one that falls,” whispered Aragorn near her delicately pointed ear.

“And greatest is the King who cares,” she said in return. “I have known of many who do not.”

Aragorn laughed lightly and walked with her down the great hall. They revelled in the silence arm-in-arm not having to speak audibly to converse. The mighty Kings of old looked down upon a descendant of theirs who indeed would, and already had, become mightier than they and like unto the mighty Men of the First and Second Age: Bëor the Old, Beren Erchamion, Túrin Turambar, Tuor of Gondolin, Elros first King of Númenor, and Elendil the Tall who saved the White Tree Nimloth and began the great kingdoms of Men in Middle-earth.

They soon found themselves in the Court of the Fountain near the edge looking out over the land shining in the sunlight. There were men down near the gate opening preparing to raise up the new gift of the Dwarves.

“The Elves will wish an audience with you today,” said Arwen.

“I know.” He looked into her large grey eyes. “Do you ever grieve to see your fair kindred… your lost kin?”

Arwen answered without hesitation. “Nay, my love. I would have made no other choice no matter how many times I went back. My heart belongs to you alone, and I wish for nothing more than you here with me.”

Aragorn never had any doubts, yet his mind was smoothed and his being filled to overflowing with a warm light bursting through ever fibre of his heart and spirit.
* * *
26: Lingering War

Aragorn did meet with the Elves who had come to Minas Tirith later that day. Legolas was among them. They all stood fair and proud with shining faces, so different from the mortals they passed in the streets, and long hair glistening golden, shadowy, or pale in the sun falling upon the lands of Gondor in shimmering shafts. They were with the new King in the presence of the White Tree glimmering pale and crystal droplets of water falling from the low branches where the fountain touched the white petals.

Legolas stood before his former companion. “You honour us with your presence, noble King of the West,” he said bowing low with a hand on his breast. The others did the same with admiration and awe in their eyes.

Aragorn reached out his hands to them. “Please! Please stand my friends,” he said with a grateful smile. “You should not have to bow to me.”

Another of the Elves spoke in his melodious voice and stepped forward. “Yet we wish to honour you as we can for you are the mightiest of all Men in this age. Your are an Elf-friend like those of old.”

“You faced the darkness and struck where it was greatest. With this mighty blow, it was destroyed. It takes astonishing courage to do what you did,” said another with golden hair and brilliant blue eyes. “Even as it is accounted among the Elves. We are leaving these lands more rapidly each day, and so you are given Middle-earth’s care.”

“And I shall keep it well for the sake of your people and those who remain here, but most of all for those who will come after us,” said Aragorn.

The Elves smiled and knew that Elessar Telcontar was more kingly than all those before him. Legolas clasped his friendÂ’s forearm with shining eyes of blue.

“We also have a gift to give to the King of Gondor and Arnor,” he said. “Your city is fair, and yet we bring the beauty of our lands to yours for even greater it will be with trees of the wood and green things of the valleys. The gardens of Minas Tirith were once renowned for cities of Men, though now,” he motioned to the Elessar glimmering green upon Aragorn’s breast, “it shall have a blessing of the Elves and become more lush and beautiful than ever before so that it will rival even the wild forests.”

Aragorn looked down into the six levels below and was content. “The thanks of all the people and myself I give to you. It is a priceless gift. What can I give in return to such friends of Gondor?”

The Elf who had spoken after Legolas spoke again. “Only to grant us leave to make our dwellings for some of our Elven-kindred in Ithilien where the Shadow of the Enemy could not fully destroy. It will be made clean and beautiful as it once was.”

“Then I shall gladly grant you this,” said Aragorn. “It would be a glorious thing to have Elves return to this land. You are most welcome.”

1. “Anar kuluva tielyanna,” said the Elf, “ar eleni calaor ostolla.”

2. “Ar or lieolla,” Aragorn said bowing slightly.
* * *
Legolas and the Elves began to plant trees in all the places they could in Minas Tirith the following day. Aragorn was sometimes among them. The people rejoiced to see Fair Folk in their proud, white walls. The Elves sang softly as they put the seeds or saplings in the brown earth.

The Dwarves aided in the placement of the new gates along with strong men of Gondor. The city was buzzing with excitement and busy with labour for all were working to restore the city after the great battle that had ended the Third Age. Stone was rebuilt with as much skill as in the Elder Days, walls replaced, and large banners of Gondor flown high against the brilliant blue sky. Common men and women found their King among them clothed only slightly different with the White Tree and Seven Stars emblazoned on his breast and nothing upon his head. Everyone who was able aided in the rebuilding and refurbishing of Minas Tirith.
* * *
Aragorn was exceedingly busy in all this time, as it is seen, yet there was no lack in his time spent with his new and glorious Queen. No passion was stronger for they had endured such trials of their love like no other since Beren and Lúthien so long ago.

When Aragorn was finished commanding the masons of the city, Arwen came to him where he stood beside a young tree sapling planted by the hands of Legolas himself. He was lightly fingering the Elessar that was pinned upon his breast, catching and reflecting the sunlight falling in golden beams upon the gleaming city.

She drew up beside him and a soft smile appeared on his lips.

“It is good to know that both Legolas and Gimli will be so near. I already wish that the dear hobbits would not have gone,” he said.

Arwen laid her hand in his. “Some you shall see again but not Frodo. He will soon pass over the Sea with our beloved Mithrandir and… others we have cherished.” She no longer spoke of her father after their last parting in Edoras where her heart had been torn in two. Aragorn knew not to broach the subject and not for some time or until she spoke of her burden. He had seen his beloved weep only once, and it had been enough to rent his spirit and churn his stomach for he could not bear to see her broken or suffering.

Aragorn drew her to him as he saw the pain in the depths of her grey eyes. “Do not despair, beloved, for all shadow has passed and perhaps there will be some end Ilúvatar has yet to reveal to us where the ones we have lost will reunite with us once again after passing to a place we cannot go. There are many Elves I would wish to see, yet I have parted forever from them.”

Arwen lifted her head to look into his eyes. “As long as I have you… all will be well.”
* * *
Now, Sauron had been defeated along with many of his wicked hordes, yet not all who were allied with him were destroyed or rooted out. There were also evil things that had not been united with the Dark Lord still concealed in Middle-earth. Many corrupt creatures were slain while wicked Men plotted secretly to gain Gondor once again and to defy the new King that had arisen.

King Elessar knew of all that was happening, so he called the counsellors to him to discuss the matter. When he looked around at them, he recalled such meetings he had had with his companions: dear Gandalf who was now gone, Legolas who was among his woodland kin again, Gimli who was with his people also in Erebor, and Éomer who was now king of Rohan. He missed their insight somewhat as he stood among the wise of Minas Tirith. There were not many of them, yet he felt crowded by their presence.

“You may already know why we are here,” he said. “I have called you here to discuss the scheming of wicked Men in the far East and South. Not all of our enemies were destroyed in the War of the Ring. You might even say it is still continuing for it will take time to root out all evil in men’s hearts.”

“My lord,” said a tall, lean man of grey hair, “you wish to attack the Men of Khand and Rhûn?”

“If they do not surrender to the King of Gondor, then they shall pay the price,” said Aragorn in a voice that tolerated no argument. It was the same tone that the men had shuddered from in Helm’s Deep as he stood upon the wall to watch the sun rise. “Men are weary of war — I know it for I too am weary — yet for peace to settle in all the lands of Men… we must strike our lingering enemies hidden away in the far lands. To gain peace is to gain it through war.”

“Then let it be done!” cried another man who only had streaks of grey in his hair. Aragorn had been in his presence before and had found the man bold and gallant. He would be one that Aragorn listened to more closely perhaps than the others. His blue eyes burned with passion. “We will follow our King wherever he may lead us whether it be to more war or to the ends of the earth!”

Aragorn smiled slightly and nodded. “Send emissaries to King Éomer for he will not wish to miss this chance to draw his sword once again. We shall need all of the aid we can gain.”
* * *
King Éomer sat on the throne in Meduseld waiting for the messenger of Gondor that had been sighted to arrive in the great hall where little time ago councils and debates had taken place with noble folk of the highest and after these many of the Fair Folk had walked and feasted. He recalled King Elessar sitting at meat at his side, his eyes bright and his bearing proud. The thought of his staid companion in kingship and battle brought a soft smile to his lips: the messenger was most assuredly bearing word from him.

The man was admitted, and Èomer rose to his feet. The man of Gondor bowed low before approaching the king with a letter in hand.

“The King Elessar bids you well, King of the Mark! Yet he brings urgent word also.”

“Thank you,” said Èomer grasping the message. “You are welcome to abide here tonight if you wish and take rest from your journey.”

“Thank you, my lord, I shall.”

As the messenger was led away to staying quarters, he broke the seal to swiftly read the strong, flowing script. As he did so, a smile crept upon his lips and his eyes began to shine.

“So it has not completely ended…”
* * *
The messenger of the King Elessar carried a reply at his belt as he urged his horse forward over the Fields of Pelennor and to the gates of Minas Tirith. He went into the city making his way swiftly to the seventh level where he passed the Court of the Fountain and finally to the Hall of Kings where the King sat upon the high throne.

“My lord, King Èomer sends word.” He knelt before his King.

Aragorn stood to receive it then gave the man leave to go, yet thought better of it. “Wait,” he said holding up a hand, “for I may have word for you to carry, though not to Èomer.” He read the letter as the man waited eagerly to hear the reply. The King nodded slowly and looked up from the message. “You must bear word to the hosts of Gondor…”
* * *
Word spread through Minas Tirith of the KingÂ’s decision. They were to bring war upon those who still opposed the Men of the West. Sauron was destroyed forever, yet the seed of his malice had taken root in many lands and in many hearts; particularly those who had served him before such as the men of Khand. The Easterlings had surrendered to King Elessar after seeing him command the dead and sweep away the evil hordes on the Fields of the Pelennor to shift the battle, and peace was sought between Gondor and the people of Harad. So the opposing forces had been greatly lessened though the enemy was still many.

RohanÂ’s enemies, or threats, were practically none. The Dunlendings realised their their mistake of attacking the horse lords and were willing to have peace among them. The Wild Men were not wholly peaceful, yet they had been utterly defeated never again to trouble Middle-earth.

Èomer gathered his riders of Edoras, Helm’s Deep, Snowbourn, and other villages to ride to Gondor before the entire host set out on a journey into the barren lands in the East beyond Mordor.

When they arrived in Minas Tirith, King Elessar greeted his friend with a shining smile.

“Èomer! How good it is to see you again! Even under the circumstances…”

“Yes, my friend, but I understand your reasons and that is why I am here. Did you think I would pass the chance to draw my sword with the King of Gondor?” His eyes lighted with a smile.

Aragorn’s laugh was rich and deep. “I am honoured to have you at my side once again, Èomer. My heart has never been so light.”

The Riders of Rohan abided in Minas Tirith for two days only as the armies of the city joined them. The meeting was as brothers reuniting as men clasped arms and greeted each other with raucous shouts of joy. The two forces mingled together as one and waited with thrilled anticipation as the time drew near to set out for the far lands of Khand where the Variags sat in evil brooding. They had been present in the Battle of the Fields of Pelennor and had not surrendered as the Easterlings had done.

Faramir arrived in those days after receiving a message from Aragorn, for he would rule the city during the King’s absence. Aragorn and Èomer were waiting for him in the Hall of Kings.

“Prince Faramir!” King Elessar called. “Join us, my friend!”

Three mighty men of great wisdom and valour stood together in that grand hall. Golden light poured in through the windows upon them and their eyes glittered like mithril under starlight.

The following day the councils were concluded and the great company of Rohirrim and Gondorians set out with their kings at the head. There was a rumble of hooves and feet moving swiftly over the lands to challenge those who opposed the King and his allies. Banners of the white horse on green and the White Tree on black rippled in the wind as they were carried on the journey.

Faramir had been left in Minas Tirith, but there also was the Queen for Aragorn did not wish her to accompany them to battle. She had wished to go, yet knew it was not her place. She would wait for her beloved to return safely.
* * *
Andúril glittered with a silver sheen as it was drawn forth. Aragorn’s eyes blazed as he rode forward with his men close behind. They had come upon a city of Khand without warning and the Variags fled at their wrath as they plunged into its streets. They were a stubborn people and none surrendered to the flying standard of the King of Gondor who swept through them in a burst of glory and wrath. Some quailed at the presence of the mighty men invading their city whether on foot or mounted on great beasts of war.

Aragorn himself found their leader and rode forward to meet him for he had slain a Rohirrim man to gain his horse. His eyes were red with fury as he saw his men cut down like wheat by gleaming swords and glinting spears, yet it grew the greater when he saw their Captain charging towards him. They met in a clash of steel and Aragorn threw the man from the beast to the earth where he landed on the hard ground with a great shout. He dismounted and slew him before he rose again. The city was taken without difficulty and few had been slain of his forces.

He found a man, his skin swarthy and his eyes like coal, who was cowering in an alley.

“Tell your people that if they do not surrender to the King of Gondor and Arnor… they will surely fall as your men have this night. Take word of your own account and be swift!”

The man trembled as he stood and ran with all his strength out of the city and on to the nearest dwelling place of his kin. Aragorn watched him go and drew a deep breath of the warm air. It will not be long nowÂ… My heart will rejoice when I can return homeÂ…
* * * * * * * * *
NOTE: I would love to know how you all like the story as it’s going…