Disclaimer: I do not own The Prydain Chronicles, it's characters, or any of its affiliates.
"The King of Mona is dead."
Taran's words hung in the air like the tolling of a bell. Swallowing back his emotion he reached forward a trembling hand to close the young man's eyes, but before it reached its destination his hand was slapped away by that of Eilonwy's. The girl had rested Rhun's head on her knees and now she wrapped her arms around him protectively as she addressed Taran in a quivering voice.
"He's not dead. You can heal him. Take the arrow out and heal him."
"Eilonwy, the horn of Gwyn has already called him. Can you not hear it? He is gone." Taran tried to form his words calmly despite his agitation. Eilonwy's voice grew shrill as she relinquished her hold on Rhun to grab the front of Taran's jacket.
"He's not gone! Where are your herbs? I'll heal him myself since you won't lift a finger!" She began wildly clawing at his jacket looking for his bag of healing plants. Her words grew louder and angrier as Taran struggled to restrain her. "There's still time I know it! Rhun can't be dead he can't be dead! Let me go - we can still save him!"
"Eilonwy, Rhun is dead! Leave him be!" Taran had managed to grasp the flailing girl's wrists tightly and with these words he shook her so violently that she winced and gasped in pain. Taran released her quickly and turned away, looking at his hands angrily before resting his forehead in his palms while his fingers gripped his hair. Eilonwy was silent for a few moments as she sat looking at Rhun and breathing heavily. Finally, she reached down and slowly closed his eyelids. She groaned and leant forward, resting her head on Rhun's still chest.
Coll came forward and gently pulled her away, tucking her into his arms and murmuring to her as if she was a little girl instead of a woman who had recently rescued them from a castle dungeon and selflessly risked her life in battle. In truth she was both, and Taran knew that he was no more or less of a man than Rhun was and his heart bled at this thought. He could hear Eilonwy's whispered words to Coll even as they ran through his own mind.
"Why him? He has a mother and a kingdom full of subjects. How can I tell the queen that her only child is dead while I live with no parents to weep over me? I am not a better person or better loved than he was, and yet I live and Rhun does not. How can this be, Coll?"
Coll's eyes filled with grief at the girl's words and he shook his head slowly as he answered, "These are questions to which we are not given the answers, child. But take comfort in the fact that Rhun was loved, as you are, very much by many. In your youth you do not understand your importance, you don't realize that you are the center of the world to someone. Remember every hour that you are loved, especially in these evil days." With these last words his glance fell on Rhun and Taran could see the anger and bitterness in Coll's eyes that he concealed from Eilonwy. Taran felt the bitterness too, and knew that it would never be healed completely. He looked at his remaining companions and said quietly, "Let us bury him." They all nodded their heads sadly and gathered around Rhun's body.
When their cheerless work was done they lingered over the pile of earth that now covered the once smiling face that had endeared itself to all, bidding farewell to their brave friend. Remembering Coll's words, Taran drew near to Eilonwy and placed his hand carefully on her arm. "I'm sorry about Rhun, and that I hurt your wrists when…" He fumbled over the words but she thankfully interrupted him.
"It was not your fault that Rhun died. I told him to stay away but he made his own decision. It saved our lives, but this is where it lead. And you don't need to apologize over my wrists, that was my fault. In fact, I should be the one asking your forgiveness. How like an assistant pig-keeper to apologize for two things that weren't his fault." At her last statement her lips almost had the strength to smile, but not quite. Not yet. Taran almost smiled back at her. He gently squeezed her arm as if trying to tell her through his touch that she was the center of his world and that he loved her every hour of every day. Once again the question that he had been longing to ask her rose into his mind, but this was not the time or the place. Another day, a better day. He checked himself as a warning sounded in his mind – these were all evil days, and there was no certainty that any of his companions would be with him tomorrow or even the next hour. As they turned mournfully away from the grave of Rhun Taran moved his hand into Eilonwy's and clasped it tightly, silently vowing that he would not let any harm come to her or any of his friends. He feared, however, that this was a fruitless vow, that there were forces at work which were beyond his control, and that there was much they still had to face.