Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and storylines belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, the Tolkien Estate or New Line Cinema (unfortunately).
Author´s note:
Fellow writer "Frodo´s sister" recently reviewed a story of mine which deals with two different occasions of leave-taking: the first one when Aragorn is very young, and the last one caused by his passing. And she suggested: "Maybe you can write about their friendship between those two times."
Well, I´ll give it a try- I still do not have much leisure for writing, but I´ll hopefully manage to post these (rather short, I´m afraid) episodes from time to time. I´ve been absent from ff net far too long anyway, and man I´ve missed it! Thanks, girl!
And now: enjoy!
~o~
One:
Keeping Watch
~o~
The dark of night was engulfing the forest; no stars were to be seen in the sky, for it was hung with clouds, and the cold air was carrying the scent of snow.
Next to one of the trees stood a light figure, wrapped in a cloak; it seemed as though it was completely still, but the figure was an elf, and he was conversing with the tree.
He was not greatly bothered by the chill, but looked over to his companion concernedly several times; it was a man clad in garments of dark green and brown, after the fashion of the Dunédain Rangers. He was currently lying on his bedroll next to a small fire, wrapped in a blanket and asleep, as the two travelers were taking it in turns to keep watch.
The night is quiet, the tree told the elf. I did not witness any dark creatures pass through this forest for a long time now. You may go and join your friend at the fire.
Legolas of Mirkwood, for he was the elf, smiled, and the emotion was evident in his voice when he answered quietly: "I do not feel the cold; it is my friend whom I built the fire for."
He went nevertheless, crouching down and putting some more wood on the flames, then stoking the embers until the fire was burning brightly again. He looked at the sleeping Ranger, who was buried deep in his thin blanket; he was used to staying outside throughout the seasons, but Legolas noticed that he was shivering slightly. He inched closer, cautiously whispering the man´s name: "Aragorn..."
Being a light sleeper, the Ranger opened his eyes. His gaze found his friend´s, and he smiled at him even before he was fully awake; the elf´s face was partly illuminated by the fire, his fair hair glimmering like spun gold, making him look like an apparition.
"Is something the matter?" Aragorn asked then, his voice still sleepy. Legolas returned the smile: "All is well," he replied. "You looked cold, though. Maybe you should get closer to the fire."
"I am fine," Aragorn sighed, too tired to get up and move; they had been traveling swiftly for days, intent on reaching Mirkwood before the first snow; they were indeed making good progress, but it was exhausting nevertheless.
The man soon went back to sleep, still shivering now and then, despite Legolas kindling the fire regularly; the cold came from the ground and his unprotected back.
Still smiling, the elf took his own cloak and spread it over his friend, then he sat down. The occasional shivering soon stopped due to the additional warmth, and once Legolas was satisfied that Aragorn was more comfortable, he leaned back against the tree, turning his attention back to the overcast sky.
~o~
Fin
(to be continued, though...)