In the Morning
By
Morfinwen
The morning came.
He awakened, as the sun came shining through gauze curtains.
Below him, the city awakened.
Beside him, she awakened.
To the west, in the valley of the elves, she awakened.
And they all dreamt of him.
He, who was first, dreamt of his face, dreamt of his voice as he answered him, telling him to rest, to sleep.
She, who was second, dreamt of his hands, dreamt of his voice as she bore the stirrup-cup to him.
She, who was last, dreamt of his eyes, dreamt of his voice as he pledge his love a long time ago in a faraway land.
And yet, he whom they all dreamt of, dreamt of someone else.
He dreamt of the trees, in that faraway land, the tall mallorns of gold.
He dreamt of the journey, that journey along the river, closer and closer to his doom.
And lastly, he dreamt of his last words, my brother, my captain, my king.
And he awakened.
And he remembered.
And he wept in silence, in remembrance of the man that taught him, taught him how to dream again.
Another morning.
They were together, and stood at the gauze curtains, hand in hand.
He remembered his dream, and smiled, and leaned towards her, and the dream drifted off like wisps of clouds in the wind.
She remembered her dreams, and smiled, and kissed his cheek lightly, and the dream flew as lightly as eagles far far above a distant plain.
But she, no longer in that faraway land, looked out of the windows in the city at the gauze curtains, and smiled, sadly, for she knows that the man in her dreams has changed, and has gone as their dreams went.
And he, he dreamed, and was lost in another world.
A/N: A little AU, especially Aragorn's attitude towards Arwen.
Thanks to Kristie and Jasmine for beta-ing. And general encouragement.