Though we have not been traveling long, the weather has grown steadily colder at night. I curl tightly in my blanket, trying desperately to ignore the sly suggestion in my mind to ask Aragorn to help me warm up. Across the fire from me he sits, his back to the flames, and softly sings. Despite the warrings of my hormones and heart, I drift into a gentle sleep, lulled by the smoothness of his voice.
I am sitting on the bank of my favorite stream, my back propped up against the willow tree whose branches trail along the flowing water. From behind me, footsteps aproach. I smile, recognising the pattern of walk, and turn just as he leans down to kiss the top of my head. His lips instead find my own, and we freeze for a moment. Then he stands and smiles down at me. Grinning broadly, I pull him down beside me and nestle against his chest. The fingers of my right hand play with the ring on his left. We seem to sit in happy peace for an eternity.
Then the wind picks up, carrying with it the sound of tramping iron-shod feet. We both jump up, weapons drawn in a matter of moments, but the orc host is upon us even as we rise. They sweep us apart, and I loose sight of him in the press of battle. "Aragorn!" I cry, panic stricken. An orc turns in the general mass and comes straight at me. I raise my sword and run him through with it, but his momentum carries me backward, and he falls on top of me, pinning me to the ground.
"Wake up, Lily. Lily." I push back from the person crouching over me, his hands on my arms, shaking me. My eyes are wide in fear as I scuttle back a foot. I whip my head from side to side, realizing that instead of being in the midst of a battle, I am in the quiet clearing where Aragorn and I had set up camp. My darting eyes finally come back to rest on Aragorn's face. "Aragorn?" I say, with a voice that trembles and sounds small even in my own ears.
"Shh Lily. It's alright. It was just a bad dream." He sits there, caring and concern written on his face. His eyes warm with sympathy. Torn between several courses of action that would undo my careful use of the Forget Me knot, I begin to tremble. He reaches out and cradles me against his chest, rocking back and forth in a way that should be soothing. Given the state of my emotions, it is anything but calming. My muscles continue to quiver, despite my ordering them to be still.
"Are you cold?" Aragorn asks. I nod, grateful for an explanation of my actions that does not bring up my raging hormones. The next moment, however, I am wishing I had found another excuse. Aragorn pulls his blanket out of his pack and spreads both it and his own cloak across both our backs as he sits down next to me and puts his arm around me.
The contact of his hand on my arm, skin on skin, nearly sends my pounding heart out my mouth. I swallow convulsively a few times and breathe deeply, trying to think of an example of how one of the PEFs would act. What would Val do? She'd hooch the Ranger, that's what. No help there. Esgal? No, even worse. ML? There we go. She'd curl up against him and go to sleep. Sigh.
Mentally shaking my head, I lean over against his shoulder. The warmth of the fire before me and the Ranger beside me combine to lull me to sleep once more.
I awake lying on my side. The fire infront of me has burned itself out, but the light of the rising sun has found a chink in the branches and is shining right in my eyes.
Groaning softly, I roll over. And come face to face with Aragorn. My heart stops for a moment. His face is peaceful in repose. I have to stop myself from either reaching out to stroke his cheek or kiss him. Wishing with all my heart that things had turned out differently, I roll back over and stare at the waking day. His arm comes up around my waist, and he snuggles closer, murmuring in his sleep. I wish fervently that I knew who he was dreaming of.
I am sitting on the bank of my favorite stream, my back propped up against the willow tree whose branches trail along the flowing water. From behind me, footsteps aproach. I smile, recognising the pattern of walk, and turn just as he leans down to kiss the top of my head. His lips instead find my own, and we freeze for a moment. Then he stands and smiles down at me. Grinning broadly, I pull him down beside me and nestle against his chest. The fingers of my right hand play with the ring on his left. We seem to sit in happy peace for an eternity.
Then the wind picks up, carrying with it the sound of tramping iron-shod feet. We both jump up, weapons drawn in a matter of moments, but the orc host is upon us even as we rise. They sweep us apart, and I loose sight of him in the press of battle. "Aragorn!" I cry, panic stricken. An orc turns in the general mass and comes straight at me. I raise my sword and run him through with it, but his momentum carries me backward, and he falls on top of me, pinning me to the ground.
"Wake up, Lily. Lily." I push back from the person crouching over me, his hands on my arms, shaking me. My eyes are wide in fear as I scuttle back a foot. I whip my head from side to side, realizing that instead of being in the midst of a battle, I am in the quiet clearing where Aragorn and I had set up camp. My darting eyes finally come back to rest on Aragorn's face. "Aragorn?" I say, with a voice that trembles and sounds small even in my own ears.
"Shh Lily. It's alright. It was just a bad dream." He sits there, caring and concern written on his face. His eyes warm with sympathy. Torn between several courses of action that would undo my careful use of the Forget Me knot, I begin to tremble. He reaches out and cradles me against his chest, rocking back and forth in a way that should be soothing. Given the state of my emotions, it is anything but calming. My muscles continue to quiver, despite my ordering them to be still.
"Are you cold?" Aragorn asks. I nod, grateful for an explanation of my actions that does not bring up my raging hormones. The next moment, however, I am wishing I had found another excuse. Aragorn pulls his blanket out of his pack and spreads both it and his own cloak across both our backs as he sits down next to me and puts his arm around me.
The contact of his hand on my arm, skin on skin, nearly sends my pounding heart out my mouth. I swallow convulsively a few times and breathe deeply, trying to think of an example of how one of the PEFs would act. What would Val do? She'd hooch the Ranger, that's what. No help there. Esgal? No, even worse. ML? There we go. She'd curl up against him and go to sleep. Sigh.
Mentally shaking my head, I lean over against his shoulder. The warmth of the fire before me and the Ranger beside me combine to lull me to sleep once more.
I awake lying on my side. The fire infront of me has burned itself out, but the light of the rising sun has found a chink in the branches and is shining right in my eyes.
Groaning softly, I roll over. And come face to face with Aragorn. My heart stops for a moment. His face is peaceful in repose. I have to stop myself from either reaching out to stroke his cheek or kiss him. Wishing with all my heart that things had turned out differently, I roll back over and stare at the waking day. His arm comes up around my waist, and he snuggles closer, murmuring in his sleep. I wish fervently that I knew who he was dreaming of.