Author's Note:

You may have missed six updates before this.


Aragorn

He lay on his back and thought about all things cold in an attempt to trick his mind. The summer struck Minas Tirith and left the days unusually hot. What was more; the marble now thirstily drank the heat, turning the interior into a blistering furnace. At night, there was no respite. The heat remained, slowly disappeared until the morning and increasing again when the sun rose.

"It's too hot," Arwen murmured. He sympathised her. His poor wife enjoyed the cool summer and colder winter of Lórien and Rivendell.

"I know." Aragorn said wearily. Sleep would not come to him. Not in this weather.

"I would like to hug you, dear husband." Arwen admitted. "But this heat does not make me eager for any proximity."

Aragorn laughed.

"I can say that the feeling is quite mutual." He confessed, earning a laugh from her. They fell into a long silence until they individually drifted off to sleep.

They did not sleep close together, but their feet were slightly touching each other throughout the night.


Author's Note:

We reached 100 drabbles! Yay!

Can we like... take the reviews up to 500? *makes wide puppy eyes* Puh-lease?