It was not the first time that Aragorn had fought for his life, but it was one of the
few times that he was in grave disadvantage. He was too weak to fight for long.
Goran grasped him from the back, pushing his hands around the Ranger's throat
and pulling against him, forcing him on the ground.
His legs kicked furiously at the Horseman holding him down, only to receive a kick
in the back as result. The fight was to no avail.
"Goran, stop it!"
Moira's voice startled Goran as she crawled over the ledge and rested tiredly on
the ground for a few brief seconds. Her arm bled where skin had torn off her arm.
Her hand grasped for Aragorn's sword and when she found it, she rose it until it
was close to Goran's face.
Goran looked up, his fingers still grasping Aragorn's neck. To her astonishment
Moira saw that Aragorn no longer moved. He lay still on the ground, face down,
no longer stirring. She was too late. She could hear the breaching of the outer
door as help came, but she felt they were too late already.
"Let go of him," she said firmly, her sword at Goran's throat.
Goran let go now, dropping Aragorn on the ground, turning towards Moira. He
smiled.
"I am sorry Goran," she said, "but if you do not step backwards now, I will run
this blade through your chest, I swear."
Goran smiled. "I finally have your attention now, do I, Lady Moira?" He spat out
her name as if she bore a curse.
"You always had my attention. You did not need to kill anyone for that."
"Oh, but I did not. I did it because I liked it. And why would I not? None of you
hardly paid attention to me. None of you have. Look at me, Moira, and then ask
anyone of Edoras if they remember me."
"I know that you did not receive the attention that you sought."
"I was an innocent little Man that lived for horses. That is it. Nobody ever thought
more of me, and I not of them. But that does not matter now, does it? My life is
over. I am gone. They will not keep me alive."
"You have killed, Goran. Over and over."
Goran smiled. "I did, did I not? And I shall not step out of this life until I kill
again."
"Do not move, I beg of you."
"You are not one to kill your fellow Man, Moira, Lady of Rohan. And I wish to tell
you that I have my eye set upon you."
Beyond them the heavy door missing its key was submitted to the axe of many.
Moira's glance cast upon Aragorn who had not stirred still. Goran stepped over
him, ignoring him. Moira's hand shivered, her sword shaking in her hand. She was
afraid, but she would not step away.
"You bleed," Goran spoke in wonder.
"It is just a scratch."
"Let me help you." Goran stretched his hand. Aragorn's sword rested against his
throat, the tip now cutting into his skin.
"No, stay away."
"I want to help you."
Moira stared in wonder at the Man who had changed so quickly from danger to a
soothing normality, using the voice he only used upon his animals. It worked
every time, calming them down. And it worked for her.
The Lady of Rohan felt how her hand lowered the sword, even though she did not
want it to go from her hand. Yet it did. She stared at Goran who approached her,
and took the sword from her, and lowered it so that it fell to the ground, ending
near Aragorn's head. He tilted her chin and stared into her eyes.
"How I wish the moon and the stars could be as beautiful as you, but it all falls
into nothing compared to you. How I wish you would believe me when I say that I
have loved you from the moment that I saw you, even though it took me a
lifetime to understand it."
Goran's voice entered her thoughts and Moira knew there was nothing she could
do about it. Her thoughts were no longer hers. She could see how Goran grasped
a dagger and brought it to her face and there was nothing she could do about it.
And then the dagger's point was inside of her skin, inside her flesh and she did
not react.
But then the dagger left her again, and she looked down and saw a sword –
Aragorn's sword – run through Goran's chest. And then she saw an arrow sticking
from his chest coming from the front. It had swift passed her, and she had barely
noticed.
She saw blood come out of Goran's mouth and the Horseman stared at her in
pure shock. And he smiled, as the light died from his eyes and he fell forward, his
body sliding off the sword and falling on the arrows that entered his flesh more
deeply.
Moira sunk to her knees, crawling to Aragorn who lay his side on the ground, his
bloodied sword in his left hand, exhausted by his effort. And she saw Legolas
stumbling towards them, holding his head wearily.
"It is over," Moira said, holding Aragorn's head in her lap as she stroked his hair.
Their eyes met, as he struggled to keep his senses. Legolas lay his hand upon her
side and looked at the wound where the dagger had entered her body. She barely
noticed the pain.
Moira felt her eyes shut, the despair taking over her senses. She felt herself fall
against Legolas. The Elf grasped her, and laid her on the ground, lifting her away
from Aragorn. The Ranger fought to keep his eyes open, staring at her in despair
as he found no will to even sit.
"No," Aragorn whispered, remembering what had happened in the cottage. The
memories came back vividly, as the blanket of forgetting was removed from his
eyes. "Not again. Let her live."
"Do not trouble yourself," Legolas spoke gently, grasping his friend's shoulder as
if he understood exactly what the Man was thinking. "She will live. Just let her
rest."
Aragorn smiled wearily yet relieved. "Then he failed."
"Oh yes, he did."
"That is a good result, is it not?"
"Aye, it is."
Aragorn stared at the Man laying next to him on the ground. Goran's open eyes,
filled with nothing now, stared back at the Ranger.
"Stay with me, Aragorn," Legolas urged, his weary attention divided between his
friend and the unmoving Moira.
But Aragorn could not fight the dark and allowed his mind to slip away, despite
Legolas' urgent calls to remain alert. Legolas too found it hard to fight the herbs,
but he remained alert. He had to. Yet he was too tired to even look up when help
finally came.
It was that way that Lord Elrond and Théoden King found them when they
breached the door and rushed forward to find their friends.
"Aragorn." Lord Elrond's voice spoke of his deep despair, but relief shone from his
eyes when he knew his son lived. Then he turned to the woman whose life had
been so bound to Goran's fate.
Moira opened her eyes and looked into her King's eyes.
And she smiled.