Disclaimer: I don't own Aragorn or Arwen or any LoTR people.
By the way I just wanted to say that I normally write stupid humor that
requires no thinking, so this is kind of different for me, so it is
probably going to be really really bad. So when you review this (because I
KNOW you will..) please consider that its my first "serious" story. And I
just thought that there were not really any, or many, aragorn/arwen stories
and those are the best kinds so this is just a very short little thingy
that I wrote because I had nothing better to do. ~Fay
Aragorn was sitting in a pub, watching the doings of people all around him. Merry and Pippin stood on a table, dancing and warbling a shire drinking song. Legolas and Gimli sat in armchairs by the fire, Gimli drawing on his long pipe. Aragorn took a sip of his drink, and went outside to clear his head. Not two steps out the door, a horse galloped through the gates of the pub, and short elf jumped down.
"Aragorn son of Arathorn," he said, bowing his head. "I send news from Lord Elrond. He bids you come to Rivendell as soon as convenient for you, sir." Aragorn, confused, asked him why.
"The Lady Arwen is ill. I-" Before he could finish, Aragorn had set off for the stables.
"Farewell! And make haste!" the elf called after him, and mounted his own horse. Aragorn messily threw a saddle on his steed, and with a cry bolted him to the road. Legolas had come out of the pub after him, and called to him.
"Aragorn! Where do you run?"
"To Rivendell!" he cried, and took off down the crude dust road.
He road for two suns, barely stopping for rest. Finally, at the beginning of the third day, he reached the golden walls of Rivendell. As he came to the stable he leapt off his horse and let the elves that dwelt there take care of him. He ran up the winding stairs until he saw Elrond standing in a doorway.
"I have come, my Lord." Elrond turned to face him, and Aragorn had never seen him look so tired.
"I am grateful. But I am not sure if you should see her just yet."
"Let me pass!" "She-" Elrond sighed heavily, lost for words, and reluctantly stepped aside. Aragorn ran across the room, barely heeding Elrond's commentary (".she has been like this for a fortnight, I would guess. I am lost for a cause.") and fell to his knees beside the bed. It was worse than he had expected. She lay covered by a thin blanket, her head sunken into the feathery pillow which, as dainty as it was, did not make the scene any gentler. Her normally smooth skin seemed darker, and faint bags hung below her closed eyes. Sweat clung to her face, which was pale and clammy, and Aragorn lay a hand on her forehead. It felt as though a fire raged inside her. She seemed to be in some sort of feverish sleep. "How long has she been sleeping?" he inquired of Elrond. "For most of her sickness. She seems not healthy enough to even wake." Elrond grimaced. "I would leave you now." He walked slowly out of the room into the sunlight that shone from the happy sky above, which did not seem to be able to crawl into the room. Aragorn carefully folded the blanket back, and set it aside. But in the blink of an eye, he saw that she was shivering slightly. He felt her cheek, and it was frigid, like ice. He pulled the blanket back over her, and in a sort of panic, he ran outside. A boy was running along the foyer, and Aragorn beckoned him. "Boy! Run and get blankets! Your Lady needs them!" The boy looked skeptical, but he took off nonetheless. Aragorn hastened back inside. Not sure what to do, he felt her cheek again, and it was still cold. In good time the boy appeared in the doorway bearing a lump of thick blankets. He dumped them at Aragorn's feet and rushed out again to spend as little time around the sick as possible. Aragorn quickly layered the blankets on Arwen's limp body until she had stopped shivering. She looked confused and almost frightened as she slept, and he saw that wisps of hair were stuck to her face. He smoothed them back, and felt her face getting hot again. In not 15 minutes she was burning again, and he peeled all the blankets off and piled them on the floor. He sat by her side for the remainder of the day and much into the night, stripping the blankets off when she was hot and piling them back on when she grew cold. At last he too feel asleep, much against his will, and Elrond found them the next morning. He had sent an elf ahead with a platter of cheese, bread and apples, and a goblet of water, but had decided to go see how Arwen was faring. He found Aragorn leaned against the wall, sleeping, holding the tips of Arwen's fingers. She too was asleep, sweating, and Elrond took the blankets off, and put some on Aragorn, which only woke him up. He looked around, and saw Arwen was not uncomfortable, and then looked to Elrond. "What time is it?" "It matters not. I have brought you food and drink, as I assume you are tired from you journey yesterday." Aragorn shook his head. "I could not think of eating right now." "How is she doing?" Elrond asked him. "The same," Aragorn answered with a sigh. "Maybe a little better. She woke earlier, but only for a moment, and she mumbled something that I could not understand. I don't think she was very conscious." Elrond nodded, and took his leave. Aragorn took up his seat on the bedside floor, and readied the blankets. He dipped his fingers in the water that Elrond had prepared for him, and spread droplets of it on her face. It seemed as though this sickness would never end. In fact he too was beginning to despair, although he did not want to admit it to himself. For another day he watched her fever, and tried to nibble on the bread and cheese that was left for him, but he could not bring himself to eat. Elves came in every now and again to see what was going on, and always left disappointed. Later, once the shades of evening had crept into the city, he again fell asleep. It was a fitful sleep, and he would be awake in a blink if anything went wrong, but it was a sleep nonetheless.
* *
*
Arwen lay in a fever, but suddenly, she woke. She kept her eyes closed, and feeling cold, drew the blanket up about her. To her surprise though, she did not feel sick at all. She must be cured! But still she was tired, for no sleep the past six days had been real, and she was ready to drift off again when she was aware of breathing other than her own. Confused she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw in the dim room, only lit by the slowly rising sun, was a white jewel shining. As she looked more closely, she recognized it as her Evenstar pendant. I must be dreaming, she thought to herself. Then, as her eyes grew more accoustumed to the dark, she saw that it was her necklace, and it was attached to a neck. She gasped as she saw Aragorn, his head rested on his arms, taking up the smallest bit of the side of her bed. Surely it could not be. she reached out her arm and touched his face, to be sure she was not hallucinating. He opened his eyes.
"Arwen," he breathed disbelievingly. "What are you doing here? I mean, you are awake! When-"
"What are you doing here, is what I should be asking you," she whispered, for no apparent reason other than it was night and you were just supposed to be quiet at night. She smiled as he stared at her in surprise. She leaned over and gently kissed his cheek. She sat back and smiled at him again and was not surprised when he kissed her back. It was not a lusty kiss, but a gentle one, and when he drew back she kissed him, and it was like a chain reaction.
The next morning, Elrond came in again to check on his daughter, and to his surprise, found her leaning on Aragorn, who was sitting on the bed to act as a pillow. He was asleep too, and both looked peaceful, and somehow Elrond could tell that Arwen was not ill anymore. He could not help chuckling at how quickly the tides had turned. He decided to leave them to wake on their own, however, went back out to deliver the good news to the elves.
The Happy End
Aragorn was sitting in a pub, watching the doings of people all around him. Merry and Pippin stood on a table, dancing and warbling a shire drinking song. Legolas and Gimli sat in armchairs by the fire, Gimli drawing on his long pipe. Aragorn took a sip of his drink, and went outside to clear his head. Not two steps out the door, a horse galloped through the gates of the pub, and short elf jumped down.
"Aragorn son of Arathorn," he said, bowing his head. "I send news from Lord Elrond. He bids you come to Rivendell as soon as convenient for you, sir." Aragorn, confused, asked him why.
"The Lady Arwen is ill. I-" Before he could finish, Aragorn had set off for the stables.
"Farewell! And make haste!" the elf called after him, and mounted his own horse. Aragorn messily threw a saddle on his steed, and with a cry bolted him to the road. Legolas had come out of the pub after him, and called to him.
"Aragorn! Where do you run?"
"To Rivendell!" he cried, and took off down the crude dust road.
He road for two suns, barely stopping for rest. Finally, at the beginning of the third day, he reached the golden walls of Rivendell. As he came to the stable he leapt off his horse and let the elves that dwelt there take care of him. He ran up the winding stairs until he saw Elrond standing in a doorway.
"I have come, my Lord." Elrond turned to face him, and Aragorn had never seen him look so tired.
"I am grateful. But I am not sure if you should see her just yet."
"Let me pass!" "She-" Elrond sighed heavily, lost for words, and reluctantly stepped aside. Aragorn ran across the room, barely heeding Elrond's commentary (".she has been like this for a fortnight, I would guess. I am lost for a cause.") and fell to his knees beside the bed. It was worse than he had expected. She lay covered by a thin blanket, her head sunken into the feathery pillow which, as dainty as it was, did not make the scene any gentler. Her normally smooth skin seemed darker, and faint bags hung below her closed eyes. Sweat clung to her face, which was pale and clammy, and Aragorn lay a hand on her forehead. It felt as though a fire raged inside her. She seemed to be in some sort of feverish sleep. "How long has she been sleeping?" he inquired of Elrond. "For most of her sickness. She seems not healthy enough to even wake." Elrond grimaced. "I would leave you now." He walked slowly out of the room into the sunlight that shone from the happy sky above, which did not seem to be able to crawl into the room. Aragorn carefully folded the blanket back, and set it aside. But in the blink of an eye, he saw that she was shivering slightly. He felt her cheek, and it was frigid, like ice. He pulled the blanket back over her, and in a sort of panic, he ran outside. A boy was running along the foyer, and Aragorn beckoned him. "Boy! Run and get blankets! Your Lady needs them!" The boy looked skeptical, but he took off nonetheless. Aragorn hastened back inside. Not sure what to do, he felt her cheek again, and it was still cold. In good time the boy appeared in the doorway bearing a lump of thick blankets. He dumped them at Aragorn's feet and rushed out again to spend as little time around the sick as possible. Aragorn quickly layered the blankets on Arwen's limp body until she had stopped shivering. She looked confused and almost frightened as she slept, and he saw that wisps of hair were stuck to her face. He smoothed them back, and felt her face getting hot again. In not 15 minutes she was burning again, and he peeled all the blankets off and piled them on the floor. He sat by her side for the remainder of the day and much into the night, stripping the blankets off when she was hot and piling them back on when she grew cold. At last he too feel asleep, much against his will, and Elrond found them the next morning. He had sent an elf ahead with a platter of cheese, bread and apples, and a goblet of water, but had decided to go see how Arwen was faring. He found Aragorn leaned against the wall, sleeping, holding the tips of Arwen's fingers. She too was asleep, sweating, and Elrond took the blankets off, and put some on Aragorn, which only woke him up. He looked around, and saw Arwen was not uncomfortable, and then looked to Elrond. "What time is it?" "It matters not. I have brought you food and drink, as I assume you are tired from you journey yesterday." Aragorn shook his head. "I could not think of eating right now." "How is she doing?" Elrond asked him. "The same," Aragorn answered with a sigh. "Maybe a little better. She woke earlier, but only for a moment, and she mumbled something that I could not understand. I don't think she was very conscious." Elrond nodded, and took his leave. Aragorn took up his seat on the bedside floor, and readied the blankets. He dipped his fingers in the water that Elrond had prepared for him, and spread droplets of it on her face. It seemed as though this sickness would never end. In fact he too was beginning to despair, although he did not want to admit it to himself. For another day he watched her fever, and tried to nibble on the bread and cheese that was left for him, but he could not bring himself to eat. Elves came in every now and again to see what was going on, and always left disappointed. Later, once the shades of evening had crept into the city, he again fell asleep. It was a fitful sleep, and he would be awake in a blink if anything went wrong, but it was a sleep nonetheless.
* *
*
Arwen lay in a fever, but suddenly, she woke. She kept her eyes closed, and feeling cold, drew the blanket up about her. To her surprise though, she did not feel sick at all. She must be cured! But still she was tired, for no sleep the past six days had been real, and she was ready to drift off again when she was aware of breathing other than her own. Confused she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw in the dim room, only lit by the slowly rising sun, was a white jewel shining. As she looked more closely, she recognized it as her Evenstar pendant. I must be dreaming, she thought to herself. Then, as her eyes grew more accoustumed to the dark, she saw that it was her necklace, and it was attached to a neck. She gasped as she saw Aragorn, his head rested on his arms, taking up the smallest bit of the side of her bed. Surely it could not be. she reached out her arm and touched his face, to be sure she was not hallucinating. He opened his eyes.
"Arwen," he breathed disbelievingly. "What are you doing here? I mean, you are awake! When-"
"What are you doing here, is what I should be asking you," she whispered, for no apparent reason other than it was night and you were just supposed to be quiet at night. She smiled as he stared at her in surprise. She leaned over and gently kissed his cheek. She sat back and smiled at him again and was not surprised when he kissed her back. It was not a lusty kiss, but a gentle one, and when he drew back she kissed him, and it was like a chain reaction.
The next morning, Elrond came in again to check on his daughter, and to his surprise, found her leaning on Aragorn, who was sitting on the bed to act as a pillow. He was asleep too, and both looked peaceful, and somehow Elrond could tell that Arwen was not ill anymore. He could not help chuckling at how quickly the tides had turned. He decided to leave them to wake on their own, however, went back out to deliver the good news to the elves.
The Happy End