My gratitude to Mirach for nurturing my muse!
The night lengthens, and by all rights, I should have retired my post to the next shift nearly an hour ago, but I cannot seem to force myself to move. The stars are icy above us, and a brisk wind whistles through the clear night. It is a truly beautiful night, one to savor, but there is a blemish upon it, one that I cannot ignore. Nothing disturbs the camp this night, and it is a picture of serenity, save for the weight in my heart. I watch you, Aragorn, as you sleep, and my heart is burdened. Today was not an easy day for you… as you fought to save the life of the young Ranger. You are wearied, and more so then I have yet seen you. Dunedain blood or no, the years grow on you, and yet you do not embrace the truth of who you could be. You do not speak a word of it, but yet I hear. I see the tightening of your face when anyone mentions Rivendell, or the Lord Elrond. I see the pain hidden behind your eyes when anyone speaks of the twins, when they are not here, though you hide all emotion when they are. You grow old before your time, and this conflict between your father and yourself does little good. You say that you are fine, that you are simply tired but I know otherwise.
One would have to be blind to not notice the way that your eyes sagged, barely open as you stumbled across the doorway to the healer's tent, your steps uncertain. If it were not for a timely hand, I fear you would have fallen straight into the fire meant to boil fresh water with! To be honest, Aragorn, you frightened me in that moment, for I have never seen you so thoroughly sapped of your energy. In those few desperate moments before anyone could convince you to see sense; you looked as pale as the one whose life you had fought to save was. His blood still covered you, but you took no notice of it until someone pressed a warm wet rag into your shaking hand, and gave you a clean shirt. But, you refused them both, wishing only to make sure that the lad's family knew that he would survive the night. I'm sure you gave them quite a fright, just as you did I. Finally though, you sat down for a moment to mop your face, to take some nourishment. That was your undoing, or so you would see it, wouldn't you? Within a matter of minutes, I watched as your head nodded, then fell to your chest. You had fallen asleep, mug in hand, seated on one of the hardest chairs in all of Arda, but yet, you fell asleep! It was then that I could intervene, and so I did. I carried you to your bed, and that is where you remain- now, hours later.
The stars glitter in the clear sky above us, marking the passage of time, and with the sound of a slight rustling fabric, I know that the next watchman has realized my delay in coming. True enough, I feel a hand on my shoulder. There are no words between us, all he needs to do is to follow my gaze to you, and he understands. With a quiet word, he admonishes me to sleep, and I follow his advice, for I know that my strength will be needed tomorrow, to strengthen you, who thinks nothing of himself when there are others who need aid.