Main Characters: Aragorn, Éowyn
Rating: G
Pairings: Aragorn/Éowyn
Genre: Angst/Drama
Length: Short story
Summary: Aragorn is on his death bed (AU)
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As King Aragorn attended to matters of state on this cold January morn, his thoughts strayed frequently. He thought of his beloved wife and children. Éowyn, his brave wife, had been his wife for nearly fifty-five years. With each new day, he had loved her even more than the previous day. She had been a loving mother to their five children, now all of them grown. As he signed the document placed before him by his faithful steward Faramir, he looked upon his hand, now withered with age. He knew his time was drawing nigh. He had seen many winters come and go. He had seen this one come, but in his heart he knew that he would not see this winter go.
As each new day progressed, his strength waned, until at last King Aragorn was ordered by the healers to remain in bed. His children, now grown and married, had been bid to come to their father's bedside by their aging mother, for she knew all too well that he would not defeat this illness, for he was too old. The thought made her nervous, him leaving her. She did not fear death… for herself, but for those she loved, it was what she feared the most. Yet the fair Queen of Gondor remained strong for her children and the love of her life. She would not place her burdens of pain and fear on her dying husband.
The greatest King of Men lay on his bed surrounded by his entire family. His second son, Elboron, had traversed from his home and his wife in Dol Amroth to be by his father. His oldest son and heir, Eldarion, lived in Minas Tirith and arrived at his father's bed within minutes of his mother's request. His oldest daughter, Lúthien, now a wife and mother herself, arrived from her husband's home in Minas Ithil within a day. Gilraen, newly betrothed to an elf lord, still lived in the King's house. Her heart had ached when her mother had bid her come. The youngest of all their children, Théodwyn, still considered a child in the race of Númenor, was perhaps the most heartbroken of all of the King and Queen's children. For she felt the sting of the pain of others, yet none for herself… much like her mother. All Aragorn's beloved children now sat around their ailing father for his last moments on Middle-earth.
Aragorn's breathing became slower and more forced. He beckoned to Lúthien to come by his side. She truly held beauty to rival even her namesake. She had fair skin and night-dark hair. She could see how her father was striving to just breathe. "My fair Lúthien, how I love thee. I want you to love your children as much as I love you and your brothers and sisters. Never leave them. Cherish your husband as I have cherished your mother. I love you and will never leave you." His breathing became even shallower. Lúthien slowly let go of her father's hand. She slowly walked out of the room, then when she knew her father could not see her, she began to sob.
"Elboron, come here, my boy. You have brought me so much joy in life. To have seen you grow into the man you are has made me so very proud. Take care of your wife. Since Prince Faramir has no children, you will one day become the steward to your brother and Prince of Ithilien. I love you, Elboron. I may not be with you physically ever again, but I will never leave you. Goodbye, my dear son." The tall, fair-haired man, Rohirric in looks and spirit but with the dignity of Númenor, finally shed a tear for the first time in his life. He stood up and left the room slowly. As he approached the door, he turned briefly for a last glimpse of his father.
"Gilraen, my love, please come sit next to me." The beautiful young woman, fairer than any elf, slowly approached her dying father. She had his eyes and her mother's skin, yet somehow she was blessed with fiery red hair she must have inherited from her namesake. She kneeled down to be near her father. Aragorn tied to speak, but no sound came out save a short rasp. His voice was beginning to leave him. At last, though, his voice returned but very strained. Every word was difficult. "My dear daughter… I am sorry I will miss your wedding to Lord Fiënor. Just know that I will be with you always. I love you. Fiënor is a noble man and will take good care of you, though you can very well take care of yourself. Goodbye, my dear Gilraen."
As she took her father's hand in her own, she gently kissed it. A lone tear fell from her ice-blue eyes onto Aragorn's hand. She looked into his eyes for a moment longer and said, "Farewell, dearest father. I love you more than words can say." She then slowly walked out of the room.
Théodwyn stood beside her mother in tears already. Aragorn looked upon her fair face. She was the exact image of her beautiful mother. She also had her mother's determination and warrior's spirit and courage. Aragorn gave her a weak smile. "Théodwyn, come here, love. Why do you weep, my daughter?"
She looked at him through her teary eyes and replied, "Because I am afraid for you. And for the first time in my life, I am afraid for myself. I am afraid to live in a world where you are not."
Her father made a great effort to lift his hand to wipe a tear from her face. "You need not fear, daughter. I will never leave you. You will never live in a world where I am not, for I will stay with you in your heart for the rest of your life." She gave him a small smile. "I love you, my baby daughter. Goodbye."
She seemed to feel comforted now by her father's last words to her. She kissed him on his brow. "Goodbye, Father. I love you too." And with that she left the room, yet no longer in tears.
"Eldarion, come here, lad." The tall man, alike to his father in looks, approached his bed. He kneeled down on one knee next to his father. "My boy, you are to be the King of Gondor and Arnor very soon. I know you will be a fine King. Take a wife, though, my son, and continue the line of Isildur. I love you. Please look after your mother and sisters."
His son nodded his head and looked into his father's eyes. "I love you, Father. I will miss you." Eldarion kissed his father's brow, then stood and turned and left the room.
Only one other person remained in the room with King Aragorn. Éowyn, Queen of Gondor, Shieldmaiden of Rohan, the White Lady of Minas Tirith, and the love of Aragorn's life, pulled a chair next to her husband's bed. He looked upon her face, which had aged very little for a woman of Rohan. To him, she was more beautiful than when he had first met her.
He smiled at her and said, "Well, my Queen… fifty-five years together. We had a good run, didn't we?"
She laughed. It was a joyous sound to Aragorn's ears. "It was a bit too long!" she joked.
Aragorn laughed. "I have loved you my whole life, and I will love you still in death. Please do not despair, love. Be joyous. We will see each other again soon."
Her eyes, still bright with youth, shone with unshed tears. She stood up from the chair. She lifted the covers of the bed and crawled in next to her husband. "I love you more than you could possibly imagine, Aragorn, my ranger, my King, the love of my life."
He smiled and grasped her hand. They lay in bed for another hour, holding each other, not needing words to express their love and feelings. Aragorn's breathing began to diminish. He slowly turned his head to look upon his wife. Éowyn knew it was now time. She held his hand and kissed his lips. As their lips parted, a final breath escaped Aragorn's lips.
"Farewell, my love. I will see you soon," she whispered. Long she lay there by his side.
When she awoke the next day, she glanced over at her departed love, and she noticed that the lines of age had smoothed over, yet there was more wisdom in his face than ever.
The whole of Middle-earth seemed to mourn the loss of the great King of Men. The birds sang bittersweet songs in the gentle softness of the morning. The sun was veiled with opaque grey clouds. The mists of evening lay heavily upon the land, dead in the winter. People everywhere were somber and silent. All mourned the loss of their king.
King Aragorn's body was laid for all to see on a cloudy day a week after he left the world. He came to death an image of the splendor of the kings of Men, in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world. Queen Éowyn wept over his peaceful body. It seemed to her people that she had come to be as nightfall in winter that comes without a star. She was changed, though she did not give in to the sorrow of Aragorn's passing, for she was a woman strong and noble, a queen of great renown. The queen remained a loving mother and grandmother, until at last her time came to make her last journey and follow her husband.