Rose Without a Thorn
Aragorn, as was his custom, took the midnight watch. Not because he liked rising in the blackest, coldest hours when the darkness pressed around him like a smothering cloak and the chill cut through even the warmest rainment like a frozen blade, but because midnight was when he could remember her.
Her. Arwen Evenstar. The most beautiful woman since Tinuviel, and doomed to share the nightengales fate.
Mithrander had laughed when he had told him that he thought of his love at this hour, and why shouldn't he. Aragorn knew this hour was associated with darkness, with cold, with evil. Arwen, his Evenstar, was none of these. Indeed she was the antithisis of all that was dark; a veritable beacon of light in his world that had been spiraling ever towards darkness for years beyond count.
A rose without a thorn. In the darkeness and the cold, he could see his loves face in the sky even when the stars themselves were hidden from his view. Her perfect features outlined against the night stood out ever clearer against the sky as dark as her hair, the water as gray as her eyes, the snow as white as her skin.
Beautiful and warm as much as this night was cold and dark, Aragorn was less of a stranger to the night then to his love, but he liked to think that these nights when the midnight watch was his, she had shared with him.
Aragorn, as was his custom, took the midnight watch. Not because he liked rising in the blackest, coldest hours when the darkness pressed around him like a smothering cloak and the chill cut through even the warmest rainment like a frozen blade, but because midnight was when he could remember her.
Her. Arwen Evenstar. The most beautiful woman since Tinuviel, and doomed to share the nightengales fate.
Mithrander had laughed when he had told him that he thought of his love at this hour, and why shouldn't he. Aragorn knew this hour was associated with darkness, with cold, with evil. Arwen, his Evenstar, was none of these. Indeed she was the antithisis of all that was dark; a veritable beacon of light in his world that had been spiraling ever towards darkness for years beyond count.
A rose without a thorn. In the darkeness and the cold, he could see his loves face in the sky even when the stars themselves were hidden from his view. Her perfect features outlined against the night stood out ever clearer against the sky as dark as her hair, the water as gray as her eyes, the snow as white as her skin.
Beautiful and warm as much as this night was cold and dark, Aragorn was less of a stranger to the night then to his love, but he liked to think that these nights when the midnight watch was his, she had shared with him.
