FIC: A Thief in the Night for seleneheart (LotR, Aragorn/?)
Title: A Thief in the Night
Author: escribej
Trick or Treat: Trick
Pairing: Aragorn/?
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Written for: seleneheart
Summary: Someone’s having difficulty moving on….
Note: This is a standalone section from a larger story (so far 2000+ words) I began for my Trick or Treat fic-pal but I could not complete by the Oct. 20th deadline. I will continue to work on the whole story for posting later. Warnings/ratings may increase as the story progresses.
~~~~~~~
Upon the hilltop, he scanned the wooded lands below him a sense of impending doom laid heavy upon his heart. A bitter wind buffeted against him carrying the sounds of Orcish howls and clashing swords.
The call of a great horn ripped through him. He sprinted down the hill into the trees. Boromir was in need.
He ran hard toward the sound of the horn but it grew more faint with each call. He continued on, praying desperately that he would not be too late.
He staggered to a stop at the sight of Boromir lying quietly upon the forest floor. Three black arrows pierced his chest.
The sunlight filtering through the canopy faded. He fell to his knees at Boromir’s side as the air grew heavy and the darkness swallowed him.
“I would have followed you my Brother…. my Captain…. my King.”
He felt himself sinking as though a great weight lay upon him. And yet, a thought drifted to him.
He was not at Amon Hen. He lay in his bed and not upon the forest floor.
His eyelashes fluttered at the faintest of touches upon his brow and flew open at the sensation of his body being pressed into the soft mattress. Arms and legs felt as if they were made of lead. Labored breathing seemed to echo throughout the bedchamber.
He twisted his head. Arwen lay on her side sleeping peacefully.
Another light touch at his temple moved into a gentle caress down his jaw line to his bare throat. His heart pounded heavily in his chest as the weight upon his body increased. His mind found the words, but they would not come.
The caress slipped lower and became more possessive causing him to moan. “No.”
“I would have followed you my Brother… my Captain… my King.” A whisper or a thought, Aragorn could not tell.
The pressure upon his body lessened as a cheerful humming grew near. A servant entered the room and paused as he noticed the king was awake.
“Good morning, my lord.” The servant went to open the heavy drapes upon the terrace doors.
“Leave me be!” Aragorn cried out.
The terrace doors flew open with a gust of wind. The startled servant hurriedly closed and latched the doors. “I beg your pardon, my lord. I will make certain no one disturbs you or the queen.” The startled servant scurried toward the door.
At the gentle click of the bedchamber door, Aragorn turned to see Arwen’s stunned face.
“Are you well?” she asked with concern.
Aragorn rubbed a hand over his face. “I am well.”
Arwen brushed back a lock of hair from her beloved’s face. “Won’t you tell me what ails thee?”
Aragorn took his wife’s hand and kissed it. “It was only a dream.”
Arwen rested her head upon his shoulder. “You have had many restless nights of late. Perhaps Faramir can counsel you on the meaning of your dreams.”
“No!”
“Estel?”
Aragorn collected himself. “Faramir is prone to troubling dreams himself. I do not wish to --”
“Burden him?”
Aragorn nodded.
“It would gladden his heart if you were to confide in him.” Arwen smiled softly. “There is nothing you could ask of him that he would not do. You are his king.”
Aragorn broke from Arwen’s gaze and focused on the ceiling above. “Such power corrupts.” Aragorn pulled her hand to his chest and held it. “Do you trust that I will not abuse it?”
“I know you and I know your heart.” At Aragorn’s sigh, Arwen continued. “I trust you. Faramir trusts you. You need only trust in yourself.”
“You are right,” Aragorn conceded and returned her light kiss.
Arwen’s delicate fingers mirrored the caress from his waking dream. He captured her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze reminding himself that Arwen was here with him. The other was just a dream.
Author: escribej
Trick or Treat: Trick
Pairing: Aragorn/?
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Written for: seleneheart
Summary: Someone’s having difficulty moving on….
Note: This is a standalone section from a larger story (so far 2000+ words) I began for my Trick or Treat fic-pal but I could not complete by the Oct. 20th deadline. I will continue to work on the whole story for posting later. Warnings/ratings may increase as the story progresses.
~~~~~~~
Upon the hilltop, he scanned the wooded lands below him a sense of impending doom laid heavy upon his heart. A bitter wind buffeted against him carrying the sounds of Orcish howls and clashing swords.
The call of a great horn ripped through him. He sprinted down the hill into the trees. Boromir was in need.
He ran hard toward the sound of the horn but it grew more faint with each call. He continued on, praying desperately that he would not be too late.
He staggered to a stop at the sight of Boromir lying quietly upon the forest floor. Three black arrows pierced his chest.
The sunlight filtering through the canopy faded. He fell to his knees at Boromir’s side as the air grew heavy and the darkness swallowed him.
“I would have followed you my Brother…. my Captain…. my King.”
He felt himself sinking as though a great weight lay upon him. And yet, a thought drifted to him.
He was not at Amon Hen. He lay in his bed and not upon the forest floor.
His eyelashes fluttered at the faintest of touches upon his brow and flew open at the sensation of his body being pressed into the soft mattress. Arms and legs felt as if they were made of lead. Labored breathing seemed to echo throughout the bedchamber.
He twisted his head. Arwen lay on her side sleeping peacefully.
Another light touch at his temple moved into a gentle caress down his jaw line to his bare throat. His heart pounded heavily in his chest as the weight upon his body increased. His mind found the words, but they would not come.
The caress slipped lower and became more possessive causing him to moan. “No.”
“I would have followed you my Brother… my Captain… my King.” A whisper or a thought, Aragorn could not tell.
The pressure upon his body lessened as a cheerful humming grew near. A servant entered the room and paused as he noticed the king was awake.
“Good morning, my lord.” The servant went to open the heavy drapes upon the terrace doors.
“Leave me be!” Aragorn cried out.
The terrace doors flew open with a gust of wind. The startled servant hurriedly closed and latched the doors. “I beg your pardon, my lord. I will make certain no one disturbs you or the queen.” The startled servant scurried toward the door.
At the gentle click of the bedchamber door, Aragorn turned to see Arwen’s stunned face.
“Are you well?” she asked with concern.
Aragorn rubbed a hand over his face. “I am well.”
Arwen brushed back a lock of hair from her beloved’s face. “Won’t you tell me what ails thee?”
Aragorn took his wife’s hand and kissed it. “It was only a dream.”
Arwen rested her head upon his shoulder. “You have had many restless nights of late. Perhaps Faramir can counsel you on the meaning of your dreams.”
“No!”
“Estel?”
Aragorn collected himself. “Faramir is prone to troubling dreams himself. I do not wish to --”
“Burden him?”
Aragorn nodded.
“It would gladden his heart if you were to confide in him.” Arwen smiled softly. “There is nothing you could ask of him that he would not do. You are his king.”
Aragorn broke from Arwen’s gaze and focused on the ceiling above. “Such power corrupts.” Aragorn pulled her hand to his chest and held it. “Do you trust that I will not abuse it?”
“I know you and I know your heart.” At Aragorn’s sigh, Arwen continued. “I trust you. Faramir trusts you. You need only trust in yourself.”
“You are right,” Aragorn conceded and returned her light kiss.
Arwen’s delicate fingers mirrored the caress from his waking dream. He captured her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze reminding himself that Arwen was here with him. The other was just a dream.