~Chapter Thirty Four~
For Us
Silly Thoughts of Small Deeds;
Everything That Once Answered To Your Needs;
The Thoughtless But Kind,
The Caring But Blind.
For Your Love, I'm Sorry.
For Your Pain, Don't Worry.
Everything Fades Away.
Don't Give Up.
~Fade Away, by Poets of the Fall
Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.
"You must stop, Samantha, lest I forget and take you now."
Hurriedly, I reassured him that I would not mind at all, but Aragorn cut me off with his lips. He finally retreated after another heated kiss, his lips sticking to mine a moment longer because of the saliva coating our parted lips. "Do not test me," Aragorn muttered, his stern voice sending shivers down my spine.
"Fine," I pouted, turning around and facing the other direction, pointedly ignoring his stunned expression. My arms were stretched out, hips curved softly beneath the tunic that ended at my rear, and I thoughtfully pretended that I did not notice his erection pressing into my rear.
"Dammit, Samantha," Aragorn growled out through gritted teeth, his resolve nearly evaporating beneath the picture I presented in the hopes of him giving in and making love to me again. Hot breath whispered against me, and I shivered, which made Aragorn stiffen, his hand curiously reaching out to ghost over my erect nipples. He groaned.
"You will be the death of me," Aragorn grimly stated, but his stormy eyes were soft with heated affection, his hand slipping further down between my parted legs, moving my panties aside to explore the soft curls there.
Wickedly, I smiled at him, mischief glimmering in my eyes, and playfully said, "We should probably stop, then!"
"Never," Aragorn declared, before descending again to take me.
And I let him.
Fourteen days…
Honestly, I knew it should have seemed like forever, but at the moment, I did not think much of it in terms of length and time. I did not actively count the minutes, hours, days, and weeks until the Fellowship and I would reach Helms' Deep with the rest of the Rohirrim. Before, I would have groaned loudly in misery. I would have counted down the days until I could call it quits and head back to the college dorms again. Which had been small and noisy and…yeah.
If I had been expected to trek through the Wild two years ago without the necessities – books, technology, fast food, and bathrooms with indoor plumbing – which could only be considered luxuries here, I would've turned right back around. I would not have cared who'd die if I left! Heels spinning, I would have bolted, leaving only dust in my wake. Back home, I mean. In Middle Earth, however…
I feared that there wasn't enough time.
No time. No time. No time. Brego continued to walk forward, steadily passing over grass, rock, and dirt without complaint, his dark brown head bobbing up and down in time to the beat of the thoughts whirring inside of me. No time, no time, no time.
"Relax, Samantha," A voice quietly whispered to me, its tone stern and completely at odds with the gentle nature of the speaker. Lips pressed themselves to my cheek and heat seared through me. I melted.
Sleepily, I leaned back into a pair of strong, warm arms, and curled further into the embrace of the Man seated directly at my rear. A strange churning in my stomach made it hard to find the most comfortable position in the saddle, and I shifted restlessly though his words were meant only to calm me. But I preferred to lean against him, his familiar smell in my nostrils and his body heat burning embers into my skin, and I found comfort in his close presence. I quickly burrowed into his protective warmth, loving that I could be shielded from the world by his stronger, taller body when it curled itself protectively around mine.
It was nice.
But…
"How could I possibly relax?" I mumbled into his chest, lips pressed to the expanse of skin that peeked out from between the flaps that created the collar of his black tunic. My small fingers stealthily lifted to pull at the strings that kept his tunic tied together. Though not for much longer! "Too much to worry over…"
Grunting, Aragorn pulled his left hand from the reins and gently removed the fingers I used to increase the amount of his skin visible to my eyes. His hand did not return to the reins; instead, the Ranger curled his arm over my waist, palm resting atop the back of mine, and lightly pressed its soft fingers with his own. A soft sigh whispered in my ear, and I turned halfway in the saddle to curiously stare at him, the picture of innocent confusion – head tilted to the side, eyebrows furrowed, and pink lips pulled down. He chuckled lightly at the concerned expression, and I pouted, folding both arms over my upset stomach again.
Damn, I wish that this stomachache would leave because – really – do I look like I have TUMS?
"Worry not," Aragorn said, his lighthearted laugh fading beneath the weight of his seriousness, and then straightened in the saddle, back ramrod straight. "No harm will befall either of us."
"Jesus Christ, Aragorn! Ya can't promise me somethin' like that in the middle of this war!" I groaned, hands in the air and completely exasperated to the point that I slipped in reference to my own religion. Yep, I sounded like a redneck, too. Just like old times!
My lover paused, his expression now one of familiar brooding, and stated, "The Fellowship shall be fine, and I will protect you."
"Aragorn…" I sighed, his name warm on my tongue though I wanted to sound cold and annoyed.
Gray eyes were colder than the steel of his blade, and Aragorn darkly vowed, "This, I promise you, as your companion, protector, friend, and…" A soft growl of possessiveness purred low within his dark voice. "…lover."
My cheeks flamed brightly, dusted red with affection and lust, and I shyly glanced at him from beneath lowered eyelashes. We were in the midst of courtship, and had been for the last month, but I could not get enough of him, always longing for his naked skin on mine. Still, Aragorn and I'd only slept together twice. Our first time was in Edoras; the second, three weeks ago, in camp. We made love several times that day and well into the night. He was soft, gentle with me.
But I became restless and responded fiercely to his touch, begging him for more. Gently biting his lips and scratching at the muscles straining in his back as our orgasms screamed through us. Eventually, Aragorn became more passionate, his large, hot hands leaving bruises at my waist when the Man realized that I wouldn't break in half. His fingernails dug into my rear and left small scratches in their wake. But I didn't care.
No, I wanted to feel again, to remember that although I had nearly died (again), I still lived here, in his arms, and in this world. Middle Earth. My world. Our home.
A home that I wanted to fight for…
I will protect you.
My spirit roared through veins, and I wanted to demand that I be left to fend for myself, but I could not speak up. I was now accustomed to being responsible for myself because Seth, who used to look out for me, was gone as soon as we were seventeen. He had left to join the military and hadn't looked back once. I learned to look out for myself (translation: I would cook once in awhile and I bought pepper spray) while attending college 'cuz there were plenty of stalkers and rapists running around the bustling campus; however, before then, I had only been responsible for my own wellbeing maybe ten to fifteen times before that horrible year.
It always revolved around the same issue, too –
Sometimes, if Seth had slunk away, spending the night with some new woman, or was too drunk to know the difference in up and down, I cared for him, too. I cared for all of the horses back at the Ranch. I cared for the wild animals that hurt themselves and needed help to walk and fly again. I cared for the grass, plains, fields, bushes, and trees. I cared. Too much, Seth said…
Yes, I cared for others, mainly animals and plants, but I cared. However, I could not remember having someone older, stronger, and wiser wanting to protect me. After I returned with the nasty arrow wound, however, Aragorn could not stand leaving me alone. He was always there, always standing beside me now, a shadow (tall, dark, and handsome in every way) that warned others, especially Men, to keep their distance. My Ranger became increasingly protective – and possessive – of me.
An arm over my waist, hands to hips, fingers curled around mine, hot lips on my ear, my cheek, neck, shoulders, lips. Anywhere Aragorn could reach, and anytime that Aragorn could swing it, his hands and lips met mine with passion. He would hold and hug me. Caress me. Kiss me.
Because I was unaccustomed to it outside of the bedroom, I often shied off to the side at first, which hurt his feelings and caused conflicting emotions to stir inside of me. Legolas, who could tell that I struggled with the confusion, gently asked if perhaps affection scared me. He was, as usual, right. (Don't tell him I admitted to it, either!) It hurt to know that I still feared Daddy showing up and taking all of this happiness away. I would get over it eventually, though, because I wanted to move on and live – with Aragorn. My Aragorn…
So I started to deliberately search for Aragorn once my mind made the distinction between Daddy hitting me as a punishment and Aragorn touching me as a sweet display of his affection. I was incredibly embarrassed to talk about it, but I trusted Aragorn, and I finally explained to him what all went on as my childhood transitioned to adolescence and early adulthood. Seth and I suffered quite often from physical and mental abuse at the hands of "Daddy Dearest."
Quietly, I pulled him aside and hesitantly explained to the Ranger why I'd been afraid of him –
"Please, Aragorn, I'm really trying here, and I promise to try harder, but…"
"What could possibly be stopping you? Do you regret entering into this courtship with me?"
"No! Never! But I…I'm scared that this is going to turn out like…like…Daddy…and I…"
Silence, during which Aragorn thoughtfully continued to smoke his pipe, and then –
"…you are afraid that I will become him."
"…yes."
Thankfully, Aragorn did not hold these fears against me. Child abuse, while less common, was a possibility in Middle Earth. The Ranger had heard of such horrors in his travels and hated that a person could do that to his wife and children; Men should not abuse their families. He promised immediately, eyes warm and hand holding mine, that I should not fear him in that way. Ever.
No, Aragorn wouldn't deliberately harm Women, least of all his own. While I did know that to be true, I still needed to hear him promise the same. It seemed silly, but I needed to hear him speak the words and promise that his children and I would not suffer through that abuse. My lover cautiously started to physically show his affections again, this time through the gentle touches of his fingers to mine, kisses to the cheek. Softer than butterflies…
Be brave enough to live, laugh, and love.
This time, I let him.
Aragorn and I quickly discovered through these interactions that I loved being touched – the hugs especially made me smile – and it became quite normal to find comfort in the other. I did not venture far from Aragorn, and Aragorn refused to be parted from me, either. We were seen very rarely without the other. King Théoden and Boromir noticed this closeness, like most, but actually addressed it by pulling Aragorn aside to speak to him in the privacy of the Royal Tent.
Curiously, I asked him what had been discussed between the three, but Aragorn remained silent, completely tightlipped. I begged, I pleaded, I coerced. Hell, I tried seduction! (It did not reveal anything, but in the end, Aragorn and I made love for the third time). No matter how hard I tried, however, Aragorn pretended not to know the answer. Crazy old Ranger…
My answer came soon enough, though, because a week later, Aragorn calmly announced his courtship with me. I practically fainted from shock because, in all honesty, I'd thought Aragorn might change his mind if I continued to stupidly question his love for me. My insecurities aside, I appreciated his willingness to make it official. The Rohirrim congratulated him, and Boromir was, oddly enough, ecstatic. Why? Because Gondor would live on!
Damn Gondorian, I fondly grumbled to myself. First, I couldn't be anywhere close to Aragorn because the Man would undoubtedly turn me into his unwilling broodmare. Now, however, Boromir keeps dropping hints about Princes and Princesses! Idiot…
After announcing the courtship, Aragorn became even sweeter, if not overbearing, and made it his priority to keep me safe and happy – whenever possible, anyway. Meaning that if I mumbled something about missing the library, books or parchments would mysteriously appear in the tent, and if I wanted to sleep in, Aragorn would wait until the last possible minute to wake me up. He still bitched at me and made certain that I trained regularly, though; with the Prince, I practiced the bow, and with the Wizard, I learned of Magic. Arrows and fireballs hit nearly half of the makeshift targets now!
So while I wasn't the best warrior around, I could certainly defend myself and hold out against enemies, at least until reinforcements came.
Maybe…
Regardless of this improvement, Aragorn would hover if I wanted to speak with someone, more so if that somebody wasn't part of the Fellowship of the Ring. When I became restless, I left the tent Aragorn and I shared in search of King Théoden, Eowyn, and Seth to ask if I could help out. If I wandered too far off – in his opinion, anyway – the Ranger quickly appeared beside me. He always seemed to materialize out of thin air, too! Seriously!
"How the fuck is that possible?" I muttered in annoyance, arms over my chest, and swayed side to side with the occasional rocking caused by Brego walking swiftly down the trail. "Bloody Ranger…"
"You certainly know how to make my ears cry and bleed, Samantha," Boromir dryly stated, his warm gray eyes meeting mine from the three feet of distance in between his horse – well, Orion was mine, but the Gondorian promised to ride him since Aragorn insisted that I stay with him – and Brego.
"Sorry, Boromir," I mumbled. However, I did not really feel apologetic, and only halfheartedly shrugged in response to his reprimand which, coupled with his annoyed expression, was usually enough to make me squirm in guilt. I couldn't quite bring myself to feel too terrible, though…
My Guardian noticed this apathetic response and frowned, his lips weighted with concern. He gently brushed his fingers against mine as we continued down the path of dry, brown grass our companions and the Rohirrim beat down with boots, hooves, and cart wheels. I smiled at him, but it did not reach to my eyes, and convinced him of nothing. Mischief gleamed in his eyes. Slowly, Boromir smirked – first, at Aragorn, and then, at me.
"Honestly, I cannot believe that you are so uncouth," Boromir happily continued, his stern voice a complete contrast to the teasing glow of his light gray eyes. "Imagine, as you will, the Queen of Gondor stomping down the streets and hissing such nasty words at her people!"
"Kiss my ass," I quipped and pointedly stared at him from beneath raised eyebrows, to which the Gondorian slapped his knee and barked in laughter.
"No, thank you," My Guardian replied, his smirk entirely too cheeky to be good. "I believe it best to leave that to Aragorn, given his fondness for touching that particular part of his 'sweet Little One.' He might feel threatened if I touched what is his!"
Oddly enough, Aragorn inhaled sharply at the insinuation and blushed, his tan skin reddening in embarrassment – which I found completely adorable. He glared darkly at Boromir, beyond mad, and muttered to himself in quiet Elvish. While Boromir and I did not understand anything said by the Ranger in the next fifteen or so seconds, I believe that we could be certain that it – whatever it might be – was rude. Incredibly so!
How did I know? Because Legolas laughed. That – I mused quietly – is never a good sign.
"A sweet young woman, corrupted by the lustful mind of the Ranger that saved her from the Wild," Boromir continued and sighed wistfully, scratching at the scruff of his beard. "It makes for a wonderful bedtime story to frighten little girls into chastity." He smiled and turned to another Man. "What say you?"
"Bite me!" I cried, before reaching out to playfully slap at his round shoulder, hoping to all that was good and holy that it actually hurt the annoying Man. Alas, I only managed to cause my palm to sting and his mouth to erupt with laughter. Grrr…
The Gondorian continued to laugh brightly and pointed to the small collection of love bites on my neck, which I desperately tried to cover as a nearby Woman stared at us. "Again, I shall leave that to your overzealous lover!" Boromir cheerfully responded without a care.
Embarrassed, I attempted to hit him again. Boromir snickered gleefully at the pitiful amount of force behind that smack and responded in kind, his hand sneaking out to ruffle the (stupid, thick) hair that fell into my eyes. My counterattack – which consisted of nearly leaping right out of the saddle to strangle him – was enough to startle Aragorn, who immediately growled at both of us. The Gondorian positively roared with laughter as a continual stream of scolding words left Aragorn and attacked the wounded appendages that I used to refer to as my ears.
"You are endangering yourself and others with this foolhardy behavior, Samantha! What if I had not noticed and caught you?" Aragorn reprimanded – loudly enough that nearby Men and Women (and the damn Elf prancing twenty five feet in front of us) could hear. Everyone smirked at us.
Then I would have fallen on my ass which, Boromir believes, is something that you'd like to see!
"Honestly, I wish that you would consider the consequences of these actions before committing to such misbehavior," Aragorn continued to bulldoze over my young age and experiences with his belittling words. Misbehavior? Really? Was I twenty one or one?
God, I couldn't take it anymore! Cheeks stained bright red with the embarrassment of being subjected to his overprotective streak in front of everybody else, I sweetly interrupted, "…Aragorn?"
My lover finally seemed to notice that the attention of everybody within hearing range was on us and smiled nervously at me. He cleared his throat, stalling for time, and hesitantly asked, "Yes, Little One?"
"Shut up!" I quietly whispered to him, hissing through bared teeth and bristling with like a very wet and annoyed cat. My Ranger blinked at me and then bit back his smile of amusement, finding this reaction cute. I huffed and glared daggers at him for it, too. Burn in Hell!
"You tell him, Lass!" Gimli exclaimed, his head thrown back in laughter until his hair and beard became indistinguishable from the other. He wiped at the moisture in his eyes. "Just like the Dwarrowdams! She knows how to keep her One in line, this one!"
Laughter quickly ceased, however, because Hasufel slowed down and turned around to walk beside Brego and Orion. My horse, steered by Boromir, did not stay too much longer, leaving only Brego and Hasufel. My Guardian, who wished to stay behind and listen to the impending argument, dutifully – but reluctantly, I swear – marched the Blue Roan forward to speak to King Théoden, who called for him to head to the front of the line. The King of Rohan and the Son of Gondor quickly began discussing the remaining stretch of road – trail, really – to the fortress. From what I could hear, Boromir believed that it would take the rest of this afternoon and probably half of the next morning to reach Helm's Deep.
War…
"Thank you," I happily said to Gimli (and blissfully ignored the fear of being that close to the fortress), chest puffed out with pride because – hey! Someone was actually supportive of the whole I-Am-Woman-Hear-Me-Roar Campaign.
Granted, Eowyn and I were currently the only members of this imagined club, but…
"Wait, Lord Aragorn, Master Gimli! I wish to walk with you and Sammy," Eowyn cried, her soft but undeniably warm and strong presence seemingly summoned by these thoughts. She swiftly gathered her dark skirts in her long pale hands to run up and continue the rest of the journey beside us.
Yes, Eowyn was walking with the rest of the Rohirrim. My Twin offered her the chance to ride with him and Aglæca – the foul tempered beast – but the young woman politely declined. She preferred to stay in the back of the procession, walking side by side with the rest of her people (though said temper, shared by rider and horse, might have had something to do with this decision). My eyes wandered from the pretty young woman and toward the hotheaded, handsome blonde that I loved and called Twin. He was, er, moodier than usual…
Poor Seth, I quietly thought, before smirking faintly in glee and thinking: He actually has to work to coerce a woman into his bed! Ha!
"Good afternoon, Lady Eowyn," Gimli politely continued. He hummed in thought, his huge hand stroking the braids in his beard, brown eyes on the clouds above. "Where was…? Oh! Yes, Dwarrows and Dwarrowdams are nearly impossible to distinguish between so…"
Hearing the Dwarf trail off, Aragorn coughed into his fist and turned to the side, his lips pulling into an unrepentant grin. I laughingly smacked his arms. My lover shifted back around to wink down at me, our argument quickly forgotten, and then faced the front again. When Eowyn turned, lifting her thin eyebrows in his direction, Aragorn smirked deviously. He swiftly gestured to his strong chin, which lacked the definite length of beard that most Dwarves preferred, and whispered, "It is the beard, I hear!"
A soft snort escaped, but Eowyn bit back her laughter and scolded, "Hush! Master Gimli will hear you!" She immediately whirled back around to stare at the Dwarf, fascinated with his stories, which told of Dwarflings rising up out of the rock in Erebor and the Iron Hills.
Oh! I'm going to have plenty of fun with this one…
"Hey, Seth," I whispered teasingly, before reaching into the saddlebags to remove a piece of charcoal to chuck at the back of his head. Thankfully, I hit him and not the other warriors surrounding him. My aim really had improved! Yes!
Grumbling, Seth rubbed the black dust from his hair and turned around to glare halfheartedly at his attacker – moi. "What the fuck, Twin?" My brother demanded, his cheeks puffed out in brotherly annoyance, and scowled at me. Kinda like when I used to steal his M&M's…
"You have competition!" I announced through small bursts of laughter, too amused to really think about how others might react to the mischief I would help create in another moment. Thumb pointed to Gimli, who continued to brag to Eowyn. My Twin glowered darkly.
When I burst into giggles, Aragorn bent down to whisper in my ear, and murmured, "Be nice, Samantha. You know better than to harass the wounded. It is not good for their health." Mischief gleamed in his stormy gray eyes.
Hearing the laughter in his voice, I could tell that Aragorn didn't mind the distraction and would actually like to join in. So I playfully responded, "Choices, choices! I have to ask, though – are ya referring to his poor mental health or perhaps his wounded dignity?"
My Ranger smirked, his hand reaching forward to tap my nose, and said, "Oh, I believe the latter is more applicable in this situation, given his frustrations, whereas the former is an illness occasionally shared with his little sister."
"Hey!" I vehemently protested, hands already slapping his thighs, which curled around mine as we continued to brush against each other while riding Brego. He only responded by smirking and pushing himself forward in the saddle to brush his front – and his manhood – against my rear. I blushed. "Uh…"
Up ahead, Legolas smiled brightly and held out what appeared to be the snake Seth discovered in his bedroll this morning. My Twin, hearing the faint hissing from the angry, captured creature, straightened in his saddle, jade green eyes on our shortest companion. Gimli, too enraptured in his storytelling, didn't notice the small serpent; his steed, however, was more observant, and Hasufel whickered loudly in distress. The brown stallion reared back, depositing a stunned Dwarf – "Oi! Does this beast not have brakes?!" – upon grass.
Covering her mouth with her hands, Eowyn observed the fallen Dwarf with concern, and then unselfishly darted forward to help him. I easily slipped from the saddle, but not before kissing Aragorn and telling him that I would be back shortly. Gimli, Eowyn, and I spent another hour together, trading childhood stories and attempting to laugh off the dark shadows rising up and threatening to claim us. Seth quickly joined in the festivities because the Elf and Dwarf commenced throwing insults at each other.
"Aim higher," Legolas suggested to his shorter companion, taunting him because the Dwarf couldn't quite reach his shoulder to smack it with the handle of his short axe. "Although, I believe that it is impossible for you, so perhaps it would be best to retreat!"
Darkly, Gimli snarled at his chest because, well, that is where the Dwarf could reach. He was much shorter than the Elf and – because Legolas is Legolas – listened to his continued insults with growing ire. "Come down here and speak such words face to face!"
Eyes wide, I stared between the two and worried: It looks like Gimli is going to finally attempt to murder the Prince of the Woodland Realms. That might hinder relations between Mirkwood and Erebor. Maybe I should find Aragorn and Boromir…?
My Twin, however, could only slap his left hand to his stomach in between fits of laughter. He clapped the other on my smaller shoulder the moment I worriedly turned around to find the two aforementioned Men and wheezed, "Leave 'em alone, Sammy! This is too good to pass up on."
Legolas slowly leaned down to stare directly into the face of his adversary, which made Gimli pale somewhat, clearly not expecting the Elf Prince to listen to his demands. "'Aim higher, Dwarf,' I said," Legolas kindly repeated his insult.
Predictably, Gimli exploded in his rage and loudly bellowed, "Du bekar! We shall fight to the death! Pointy-eared, tree-shagging bastard…!"
My mouth dropped wide open, unhinged by the shock of seeing this spectacle before me, a response that made Seth laugh all the harder. Eowyn, who continued to walk beside us, only rolled her chocolate brown eyes and smiled at the slowly darkening skies above us. I bit back laughter at her expense. She feigned exasperation, true, but I could tell that the other Woman was also incredibly amused with the entire situation. Especially Seth. She loved Seth. Me, too…
"Dear me," Eowyn said, her voice slow and dry, much like that of her Uncle, King Théoden. A soft sigh escaped from between her parted lips, and the Woman murmured, "We will have two less companions to feed –" Here, Seth and I shuddered at the thought. "– at this rate."
Admittedly, Seth and I stared at her in surprise, but Eowyn stared back at us in amusement, and laughter filled the air. Most Men and Women glared darkly at the sound, feeling mocked by the happiness of others – us – in the midst of this crisis. Some, however, smiled kindly at us, an understanding light in their eyes. We continued to laugh for one reason, you see…
Glancing around, I could practically smell it in the air, and I shivered, feeling chilled to the bone.
…Everyone is scared.
"Well, I have offered aid to those cooking for the masses," Eowyn finally continued, her voice more subdued this time, and smiled faintly at my older brother. "Have you and Sammy eaten anything, Lord Seth?"
"Oh, Sammy and I had beef stew earlier, with lots o' cheese bread," Seth hastily reassured her, which – according to the soft growling of his stomach – could only be the worst lie in the world. She glanced to me, and Seth shoved his elbow into my ribcage; I nodded frantically at her.
"Good evening, then," Eowyn sweetly said and curtsied to the two of us. She departed quickly in search of the cooks, her determination to help sweet but ruined by the fact that her – uh, food could actually serve as rat poison.
"Thank God," I muttered, before walking off to the other side of the camp, my arms over my chest to ward off the chill of night. I remembered Aragorn trying her soup and, this time, I shivered out of fear. "I actually thought Eowyn was going to force her Stew Surprise on us –again."
"We might have survived that round," My brother grumbled while sympathetically rubbing his protesting stomach in circles, "but I could still do with some warm grub and couple of tankards of ale…"
"We could always ask Aragorn if there's anything left from lunch," I lightly suggested, before shrugging at his strange expression, and explained, "Legolas has been forcing food onto me – seriously, the Elf is freakin' obsessed – and Aragorn stores whatever I can't eat."
"Sounds good to me," Seth finally said, clearly attempting not to mentally picture the Ranger and his little sister in the same vicinity. We were, essentially, living together in that tent.
"Come on!" I laughed, while pushing him in the middle of his back and cheerfully guiding him to the section of tents being used by the Fellowship. Of course, Seth deliberately made himself heavier, and it became hard to support his weight while searching for Aragorn. So I let him fall!
"Dammit, Sammy!"
I laughed.
In the end, Seth and I managed to find him because I returned to where I last remembered seeing and hearing the Ranger. We made our way over a series of odd, makeshift campsites, with tents and fires, and through countless throngs of chatting people – Man, Woman, and child – until I could hear his gentle laughter singing above other voices. It called out to me. Little Lover…
While I wanted to walk forward to great Aragorn, Seth fisted his fingers in my collar, and tugged backwards, his strength outmatching my own. He pointed silently in the direction of the largest of the four tents. In confusion, I stared at the Man that I loved – Aragorn, I noticed with relief, appeared to be at peace and had taken to lounging beside the campfire, his pipe in between his lips. A small smile claimed his lips in response to whatever the King of Rohan said to him.
"What are you…?" I quietly asked, but Seth made another frantic motion to stop whispering and then walked another rock to hide behind the closest tent, only peeking out when I made my way over.
Hiding behind the tent, Seth and I listened closely to the words spoken between the two because, for some reason, my crazed brother thought it might be important. He seemed happy enough listening in, but I thought of the generosity of both Men and immediately regretted eavesdropping. Okay! Not really, but –
"You will have little time for yourself, Lord Aragorn," King Théoden mused, his smile full of good cheer because of the laughter exhibited by his niece, who continued to spend time with Gimli, "if you and Lady Samantha continue this way."
My brother slowly turned to glare down at me and darkly grumbled, "You damn well better be usin' protection with that old pervert, Twin." Green eyes were now on my stomach, which I protectively shielded from his view.
"Shut it, Seth!" I hissed at him through clenched teeth, but after another minute of thought, I smiled sweetly at him and hummed, "At least I have a need for protection! Others are not fortunate enough, I've heard…"
"Jesus! Who asked for yer opinion, anyway?" Seth flushed in embarrassment, his face partially hidden behind the long hair that had slowly grown out and down to brush his cheekbones. He huffed in annoyance as my attention returned to Aragorn.
"True," Aragorn bashfully admitted, his quiet admission followed by a small, playful smile, "but I believe that Lord Seth and Lady Eowyn –" Seth yelped faintly. "– will certainly be good competition in that regard, King Théoden."
Slowly, I turned to smirk at him, but I said nothing because Seth could obviously figure out what I meant by the dark eyes and naughty smile. As expected, Seth pushed his shoulder against mine and smirked when I fell to my rump. Another laugh escaped the pair seated around the small campfire, the sound of joy bright and happy in this time of darkness. My Twin and I quickly turned back to the King of Rohan and the future King of Gondor.
"Children will fill the halls of Gondor and Rohan once more," Théoden laughed cheerfully and reached out to clap the Ranger across a shoulder, his hand beating against his muscular back in male comradery.
Children…?
Blushing, I placed both hands over my stomach, which continued to swirl around with anxiety – yes, anxiety. It could be nothing else! Not morning sickness! Nope! My nerves were simply going haywire because of the fears that I harbored for the upcoming events – scouts would stumble into danger, Wargs would crash the party, and all Hell would break free.
Have Faith, Samantha.
…Manwë?
"My King," Aragorn politely interrupted his good cheer with worry and fear regarding the bleak uncertainty of this bright future that the King of Rohan wished to paint, "We must first win this war and guarantee the safety of Ladies Samantha and Eowyn."
The King of Rohan remained silent for another moment, (rare) good mood vanishing, and then firmly said, "We will win, Lord Aragorn, because these young women and their children – our children and grandchildren – depend solely on us. It is the duty of warriors to protect their precious ones." He stared directly into his eyes. "We must fight for their happiness."
"I will fight for you and for those that cannot defend themselves," Aragorn solemnly stated. His fingers trailed to his neck, where his keepsake – once mine – continued to rest beside his heart. He touched the small golden ring and smiled faintly with affection brimming in his silver eyes. "…and I will fight for her."
"What shall happen if Lady Samantha is lost to us?" King Théoden quietly asked; his voice was wary and concerned about the wellbeing of his people because, if Aragorn left, then the Fellowship would follow in his wake.
"Honestly, I do not know, King Théoden," Aragorn softly responded to him, his stormy eyes warm and thoughtful in the glow of the campfire, which bathed his tan face in hues of red – blood red. "Somehow, I cannot quite picture the future without her standing beside me anymore..."
Heart in my eyes, ears, and throat, I blinked back tears and clutched at the tunic over my chest. I breathed in and, in the next exhale, I desperately whispered, "Oh, Aragorn, I love you so much, and I will always, always be here for you. We will win this war!"
My Twin wordlessly placed his hand in mine.
"We have to…"
For us.
***Author's Note***
Hello again! I'm still posting the edited version - Edited 2015.
Okay! Here is the update I promised! It is three days late because I'm sick - yes, again. Always happens to me in March and April...
So! Lighthearted humor before the next chapter, which takes place at the cliffs! It will darker, much darker, and I wanted to show a more emotional bond - the improvement, if your will - in the relationship between the Fellowship in this chapter. Friendships have been forged through battle. These friendships will be tested next few chapters because, well, Sammy can't really resist meddling in the affairs of The Lord of the Rings. ;)
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it and I will have the next chapter up sometime next week because it is already halfway done!
Thanks again for all the awesome reviews, alerts, follows, and favorites! You're all wonderful!
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!
Update = ~465ish Reviews
:)