Until the End

Wormtongue was thrown from the hall, tumbling down stone steps into a disheveled heap. He looked up at Theoden, frightened by his vengeful stare. “I have only ever served you, my lord.” Brunfair followed with the rest, trying to focus on what was happening here rather than on something else, someone else.

“Your witchcraft would’ve had me crawling on all fours like a beast!” He swung his sword high, but Brunfair could see Aragorn leap into action out of the corner of his eye, grasping the hilt and halting the blow.

“No, my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account.” Brunfair watched as Grima lifted himself from the ground, fighting his way through the crowd to escape Edoras. The citizens ignored him, praising Theoden for his return to power, kneeling for him. A guard kneeled nearby, knocking Eowyn into Brunfair. They brushed shoulders as she turned to look at him nervously, lingering there for a moment before she turned away, kneeling to the king. Brunfair, his stomach turning over and his head lightening, knelt closer to Legolas. Legolas stifled a laugh at the encounter, and it was all he could do from breaking the silence as Brunfair aimed empty obscenities at him under his breath.

********

Theodred had his funeral only hours later. He had died long before the five had reached Edoras, and the king had paid no mind. Brunfair could tell he felt an even stronger hatred for the snake Grima, watching with a distanced stare as they proceeded to his son’s tomb. Brunfair stood right behind him, staring down alongside Gandalf. He still couldn’t get the sickening feeling out from his stomach that the Rangers had told him to end. He saw Eowyn at the bottom of the hill, holding back her tears and waiting for the procession.

They arrived at the bottom. The bearers of Theodred set him low, fitting him into his tomb. He watched as the tears finally slipped down Eowyn’s smooth face, and shakily, she began to sing.

Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended
giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende

Brunfair had no clue what any of the words meant, but he could feel the raw emotion emanating from the woman, and how she was slowly letting out her pain. He could feel her mind grasping and weaving the words together, and as they reverberated across the hills, he suddenly felt his mouth moving in time, matching her words, giving them support. It went from a burst of emotion into a beautiful lament.

on Meduselde thæt he ma no wære
his dryhtne dyrest and maga deorost

The lament ended, and the tomb was shut. Brunfair watched as the congregation slowly left its remarks for Theodred and went back into town. He saw Eowyn make her way to Meduseld, and he followed close behind. He saw Aragorn watching curiously as they climbed to the hall, looking down at Edoras. Brunfair tried to stammer an apology when she noticed him, but she fell into his arms, sobbing for the loss of her cousin.

“He was like a brother to me. I grew up with him the same as I grew up with Eomer. He was always kinder to me; all Eomer aspired for was greatness, but Theodred could slow down and live a little.” She buried her head in his shoulder. “What you did at the funeral was noble, traveler, and for it, I thank you.” She laughed. “I don’t even know your name, but I still spill my heart to you in this troubled time. “

“Brunfair,” he mumbled, almost stuttering. “Brunfair of the Rangers.”

“Nice to meet you, Brunfair.” Her face lightened, and they looked upon Edoras in silence. Her hand clasped his, and it took all of his will to supress the reflex to pull away, the reflex ingrained into him. He could see white flowers blooming all around the borders of the city, all of the green grass, alive and unharmed.

He could see two children riding in on horseback. He watched as one fainted, falling from the saddle, and he began yelling for the guards.

********

Meduseld was much less ominous now that the evil shadow of Saruman had faded, but tension still lingered. Theoden had locked out all but himself, Eowyn, the two children, and the five travellers. Eowyn nurtured the poor children, coaxing their stories from them. Brunfair watched as she turned to the king now.

“They had no warning,” she reported anxiously, “and were unarmed. Now the wilds men are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go.” She set a blanket over the youngest child, a girl, as she asked for her mother. Brunfair looked to Theoden for a response, as did the others. As Gandalf tried to sway him, Eowyn again found her way next to Brunfair as he uneasily allowed her to bear herself upon his shoulder. Brunfair noticed that Aragorn saw him jerk away for but a moment, saw the hesitation in Brunfair’s eyes, and recognized it immediately. He kept silent for a moment, returning to the conversation.

“You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Eomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king.”

Theoden rose from his throne, beginning to pace. “They will be three hundred leagues from here by now. Eomer cannot help us. I know what it is you want from me, but I shall not bring further death to my people.” He paused, gathering his wits. “I will not risk open war.”

“Open war is upon you,” Aragorn declared, ignoring the scoffs from Brunfair and Gimli, “and whether you’d risk it or not will not change the fact.”

Theoden drew close to Aragorn, boring into his eyes. “When last I looked, Theoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan.”

“Then what is the king’s decision?” Theoden looked to the ground, pondering a solution, gathering the plan in his mind. The travelers would find it grave news, but now, Aragorn pulled Brunfair aside, and they left the halls.

They pushed through the city, now alive with its king back in power. They found their way to the stables, where Shadowfax, Hasufel, Gradir, and Aron remained. Brunfair found himself stroking the mane of his horse Hasufel, Aragorn sitting on a barrel of feed. He looked to Brunfair, sighing as he shook the hair from his eyes.

“I have seen how Eowyn gazes at you longingly, Brunfair, and can see your unease. I can hear the echoes of Ranger doctrines telling you love is forbidden. And although I must admit that it makes you a far stronger warrior, you must make a choice I too had to make at your age. Do you accept the curse of life without love for strength? Or do you accept love’s toll on the battlefield?

“My uncle was on his deathbed. He was one of the greatest fighters the Rangers had ever met, but old age had brought him to his knees. He was weak, crying as I drew up to him, and he looked at me from behind those tear filled eyes and spoke to me. I’ll never forget the words he said. He said, ‘You’ll someday follow in my footsteps, and become stronger than I could ever dream of. But I have renounced love to become strong, and it has torn apart my life in these later days. I die alone, and my strength can do nothing to change it. Just promise me, Strider, you’ll find love. The Rangers are wrong, for love is much mightier than any blade, any poison-tipped arrow, or any army marching across an open plain. Promise.’

“And I did. I returned to Rivendell, and fell in love. I can tell you, I would be a different man without it. My uncle changed my life greater than any of the trainers ever could, and in his honor, I’ll still use that nickname he gave me from time to time.” By then Brunfair was staring down at the hay lining the stable floors, in thought.

From outside the stable doors, Hama could be heard barking orders at the citizens. “By order of the King, the city must empty. We make for the refuge of Helm’s Deep. Do not burden yourselves with treasures. Take only what provisions you need.” Aragorn wistfully shook his head, mumbling. Gandalf strode into the stable, followed by Gimli and Legolas.

"There is no way out of that of ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety but what he'll get is a massacre. Théoden has a strong will, but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defences have to hold."

Aragorn nodded. “They will hold.”

Gandalf climbed upon Shadowfax."The Grey Pilgrim, that’s what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I walked this earth, and now I have no time. Look to my coming at first light of the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East." Aragorn and Brunfair opened the gate, and Shadowfax bounded out of sight, into the town at full gallop. He watched as the blur of white receding into the distance, hoping it would return in time.

********

They sat preparing horses for the arduous journey that lie ahead, Brunfair brushing the brown mane of Hasufel. He had replenished his daggers and knives, placing a lance and Death’s Edge in the saddlebags on Hasufel’s back, along with canteens of water he’d give citizens along the way. The horse was prepared for the journey, and he pondered Eowyn as he sat beside his steed.

A horse bucked somewhere beside him, giving a whine of resistance as three men struggled with its restraints. Brunfair left his stall and approached the great beast, whispering comforting words. He grabbed a rope from one of the men, getting closer until he was patting its nose, whispering comforting words as he reached for an apple half eaten by Hasufel. It slowly calmed, finding delight in the fruit as it chomped. All of the soldiers, content that the final horse was being handled, filed out of the stables. All he could hear now were his breathing, the horses around him, and one more person watching as he pet the horse.

“His name is Brego.” The soft, delicate voice coming closer to him brought a smile to his face. He’d thought long and hard about Aragorn’s words, and was finally bringing down his walls. He turned to her, her hand reaching for the horse’s mane. They sat in silence for a moment, until his hand engulfed hers. They turned to look at each other, and he noticed the blue of her eyes. They were light blue, almost silver, but as their faces grew closer, he noticed the flecks of deep blue and flashes of white, until her eyes fell shut, and her face grew only inches away, and-

“Brunfair!” The moment ended, and Brunfair saw Legolas standing at the stable doors, suddenly apologetic as he took notice of what he’d interrupted. “Some of the guards ask for training with knives, and I thought you’d be best, so-”

“Have Aragorn come for this horse, Brego, and decide its fate.” He nodded nervously at Eowyn, and left for Meduseld.