The night was silent. Aragorn laid in the bed hastily prepared for him by the Lady Éowyn. He knew he needed all his strength to face the Paths of the Dead, but he could not find sleep. His earlier confrontation with the Lady of Rohan had upset him more than he would admit.

He could still see her proud figure clad in white as she stood before him, her chin high and her eyes fiery. She had asked to go with him, to ride beside him through all the perils he had to face. And he had refused.

"I say to you, lady: Stay! For you have no errand in the South," he had declared.

And there she had responded, her voice steady, although he had perceived the light tremor behind its coolness. "Neither have those who go with thee. They go only because they would not be parted from thee - because they love thee." And she had disappeared, without giving him the opportunity to answer.

Because they love thee. She had said the words he longed to hear since he had met her, even if it was only implied. She had confessed she had feelings for him and he rejoyced at the thought. But it was a dark hour for all of Middle-Earth and he feared his own feelings. He did not want her to suffer needlessly if he were to fail. He could not bear to even imagine her beautiful face stricken with grief because of him.

Frustrated, the ranger decided to have a walk to calm the tension building within him. He silently left his chambers and wandered within the halls, trying to ease his mind. He knew he had done the right thing. He would not let the woman he loved go into danger. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her.

Aragorn stopped dead in his tracks as he recognised the figure looking at the sky a few meters away from him. She was still clothed in white material and her golden hair glimmered under the pale light of the moon. She looked both strong and fragile at this moment, her grey eyes lost in the immensity of the heavens above her. Aragorn did not dare to move but felt at the same time the urge to take her in his arms. There was no more denying. His feelings for the Rohirric woman were deep and true ever since he had seen her behind her uncle's throne.

Éowyn suddenly turned around, sensing a presence and eyes of steel locked with brown. A fleeting moment where Aragorn could read the turmoil of emotions which troubled the young woman. Pain, worry, sadness were present but there was something else, something which make her look softer and it was directed only at him.

"Lord Aragorn," she greeted him with a nod of her head. "You have trouble finding rest also, have you not? The Great Shadow is coming upon us. War is at hand and it may be the last days of Men."

Aragorn was surprised to hear so much bitterness in her tone. He knew he had hurt her by refusing her request but he did not want her to fall into despair and to slowly fade rotten by anger and helplessness. He tentatively got closer to her slender form and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"You should not grieve for something that is yet to come," he said, gently trailing his hand at the base of her neck. "The path ahead of us is still full of possibilities."

Éowyn tensed under his light touch and Aragorn smiled lightly, enjoying the warm skin under his callused fingers.

"You are speaking of possibilities when you have already set yours. And you would not allow me to choose mine."

Her voice was still a bit harsh but the Dúnadan delighted in the sharp intake of breath she took when he lightly touched her waist with his other hand. He put her head on her shoulder and breathed in her ear, "Éowyn, the darkness is not upon us. And as I'm standing here with you, I can hardly believe such evil even exists."

He tightened the grip he had on her waist and turned her around. She wordlessly complied and let her hands wander on his shoulders. The light caress was enough for Aragorn. He looked once again in the grey pools of the beautiful woman and leaned in to kiss her. He touched her lips lightly at first, a light pressure to allow her refusal. But one of her hands sneaked under his head and increased the touch. Her mouth opened and the ranger took what she offered, engaging in a soft battle between their tongues. When they pulled apart in need for air, Éowyn took Aragorn's hand and dragged him along with her, stopping at her chamber's door.

Aragorn was about to speak but he was silenced by her finger on his lips. Her eyes were shinning even in the soft darkness and she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "No one knows what the future will hold. Long have I awaited thee, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I will take what the present is offering me."

He followed her inside the room and everything seemed to suddenly go in slow motion. Heated kisses and soft caresses, clothes pulled off in haste and then the wonderful feeling on skin on skin. Aragorn marvelled in her body as he made love to her in the intimacy of her quarters. She was everything he had always hoped for and now she was his. No matter what dangers would lay on the road he had to take, he knew he would overcome them all, to return to the woman he loved. This woman who was looking at him with mirth in her eyes, her golden hair making a halo on the mattress. And as they reached bliss together, he sealed his promise.

---

Aragorn woke up at the first rays of sun and found himself alone in the bed. Panicked, he glanced around to be greeted by the most unexpected view. Éowyn, clad in mail and hair tied back, was trying a cloak.

"I am to go with you" she said simply. "For I will follow you to the end, my love."

Aragorn wanted to protest but knew better. He swiftly prepared for the journey to come. It was clear that his lover will follow him whatever he would say. He smiled. He may be on the Paths of the Dead, but he was not alone.