Title:The Many Facets of Light
Author: Arinya
Rating:R

Disclaimer: All Lord of the Rings characters belong to J.R.R Tolkien, however, this story itself belongs to me and that also applies to the plot. The character "Aldíren" also belongs to me, he is mine, no stealing is permitted. This disclaimer applies for all chapters, of this fanfiction.
Summary: Sam is forced to retell all the things that happened after the Fellowship had succeeded in destroying the Ring. All the members of the Fellowship have their own problems. Darkness returns, and Love struggles to conquer all. But as the problems mount up to a peak, can they survive? And can Sam bear telling his audience the true story?

Chapter Forty: Recalling

Éomer saw a fleeting darkness in Aragorn's eyes. Was it just him, or had he spotted malice in the King? It was most unlike Aragorn to feel any type of malevolence. Even against Sauron, he had shown the cool, calm, collected gaze of the Ranger, always hopeful that things would turn out for the best. Hate, was not a word to describe the High King.

Aragorn passed out of the haze when he saw Éomer's brow knit together in concern. He was painfully aware of what had just happened, and what was worse was that he had been unable to stop himself from feeling the way Sauron wanted him to. He had once been convinced that the blood of Isildur was weak, the War of the Ring had taught him otherwise, yet now, the same doubt was beginning to overcome him again.

Éomer quickly averted his gaze, and they walked into the camp. Other men came to work on the trunk, releasing the two from pulling it along for a while longer. Éomer went into his tent. He just couldn't look at Aragorn right now. He didn't want to think of the possibilities.

Going in, he sat down heavily for a moment, then got up again. He was restless. There was work to be done, but he didn't want to be out there. The air was foul in its own way. He remembered how before, during the War of the Ring, as lorebooks now called it, everything just seemed to weigh down on him. He was always tired, and was never able to see the end of the battles. What a similar effect now, he was feeling unsure of everything, everyone. Aragorn was hiding something, he was changing on the inside. The atmosphere was doing something to him as well. They had to get this over with. If the battle wouldn't kill them, the anticipation and waiting would. The land it seemed, was alive, and with purpose. It was crushing them.

Eowyn had not been able to come along. He knew she would have if she could, but Rohan needed her. With Theoden gone, she had wholeheartedly taken the responsibility of being a ruler. He had to grin a little, remembering her fierce objections long ago, how women should be able to fight alongside men. Well...if all women were as brash as she was, a race of men would be a frightful thing to behold during a fight.

He then remembered what she had given him before he had departed from Rohan. Getting up, a new energy went through him. Happiness it seemed, was returning at just the right moment. He reached into a satchel on the ground, and pulled out a small wooden box.


Flashback

Eowyn was bustling around, packing the saddle bags and making sure they were strapped on tight enough. Her fingers were quickly at work as she spoke.

"First a council, then a War. What is Aragorn thinking?" she said in a snappish manner.

He pushed her hands away from his horse, smiling a little because it was amusing and to reassure her.

"Everything will be fine. Just take good care of the city and our people"

"Éomer, I always do that. I don't understand why you continue to tell me to 'take good care of the city and our people'," she mimicked him perfectly.

"Stop that," he said with a serious face, his brow creased. "That's unbecoming for a Queen"

She just gave him a look.

"Please. I'm your brother. I have privileges, remember? And another thing, thank you for doing this for me"

She tossed her head a little, letting gold strands fly in the wind. There was a wry grin on her face.

"You're just lucky that I'm not with child"

"Oh is that what you're working on these days with Faramir?" asked Éomer with a raised eyebrow.

She shoved him.

"Be quiet"

He shook his head, laughing now. Eowyn let out a few of her own. Her blue eyes were shining brightly, and the green dress she wore whipped around her legs. She was such a child sometimes. They even had their little scuffles now and then. Some things just never die.

"Give Faramir my regards, he'll be lonely without your pretty face around," he got on his horse and stroked its mane.

"You must be the most redundant brother in the world. If I had followed your directions for the past ten minutes, I would have given Faramir two regards, and take care of the city like a god over their temple. Do not worry about me! You must be selfish sometimes Éomer. Especially now. I want you to come back in one piece you know"

He was mildly rebuked, and nodded.

"I will return," he promised.

She leaned up to him for a hug and he bent down to accept it. While they parted, she managed to sneak into his hand a wooden box. He looked at it surprised.

"What is this for?"

"Something to remember me by on the way there and while you wait for the storm. Memories to strengthen and such," she said as if it were a mere nothing, and smacked the rump of the horse, sending him off quite unexpectedly.

Éomer quickly grabbed the reins to steady himself as his horse sped away. He held the box tightly, and looked out for a moment. His forces were being led by a few subcaptains and he would be joining with them soon to lead himself. In the meantime, he let go of the reins, trusting his steed not to throw him off, and examined the box.

It was a sturdy thing, and was almost squarish in shape. Flower patterns were carved into the sides of the box without much skill. Eowyn he knew, could do much better than the workmanship he saw. This must have been from a while back. He opened it, and let out a gasp.

"My Lord, is there something the matter?"

He looked up with a jerk of his neck, hiding a wince. Luern was curious as to what he was so emersed in. Éomer closed the box with a quick snap, and smiled.

"Nothing. Nothing at all"


End Flashback

Éomer tipped out the various miniature wooden horses and warriors that the box held. They were cool against his hand and made him recal many things. Many happy moments where he and Eowyn had played together, competed with each other, and most of all, got in trouble.

"Memories to strengthen and such..."



A/N: I apologize for the delay and for the quality of this chapter.