disclaimer: tolkien blah blah blah.
Chapter Five: Coming Home
The road was long and dangerous, Aragorn knew this for he had many times ridden throughout Middle Earth with only himself for company, or sometimes a horse. This time there were many men to travel with, and twenty of Elrond's good archers. Although there were few, Aragorn knew that the skill of these elves would be worth more than the extensive number that men had to offer.
It had been at least two weeks since Aragorn had last seen Arwen and he had missed her every moment that they had been parted. Their time together in Imladris had been wonderful as it always had been in the mortal life, and he longed for her company.
Faramir saw Aragorn sitting alone on the edge of the company, his face showing deep thought as he looked up at the stars in the sky.
"What do you think of?" Faramir asked as he walked over and sat on the ground next to Aragorn.
"I think of my wife," Aragorn replied.
"Tell me about her," Faramir said quietly.
"You have seen her before," Aragorn said. "The elf with dark hair, and skin as pale as moonlight. I have known her since we were children; watched her grown for centuries. Even now I can almost feel her skin beneath my fingertips."
"You must have great love for her."
"Always."
Faramir looked up as Éowyn began walking toward he and Aragorn. She had a soft smile on her face.
Faramir looked at Aragorn and sighed softly, "Éowyn is my soul."
Éowyn opened her mouth to speak when Aragorn's ears picked up the osund of horses in the distance. He was not he only to hear as his elven kin stood and walked to the border of the camp, their eyes scanning in the distance as well. Faramir stood and put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder.
"What is it?" he asked worriedly.
"Riders, coming from the west at a great speed. Friend or foe I am not sure, but you should have the others at the ready."
Faramir looked at Éowyn and pleaded with her to run to safety, hide somewhere unseen from these intruders until it was safe. Not wanting to argue, she did as she was told, leaving everyone else ready to fight.
Aragorn, being the leader of the elves, and Faramir, being the leader of the men, stood to the front with their weapons at the ready as a band of perhaps twenty strangers rode near. One of the riders rode forth and stopped in front of Aragorn.
"Go back the way you came," the rider proclaimed loudly. "There is nothing left."
"Nothing left? What do you mean?" Faramir asked worriedly.
"Orc and Uruak-Hai have conquered the Riddermark. All survivors travel north to distant lands where they may find safety."
"We travel to Minas Tirith," Aragorn said.
"Minas Tirith is nothing more than a wasteland. Its people were destroyed."
Aragorn felt a hand clamp onto his shoulder as Faramir tried to keep balance. Aragorn closed his eyes and took steady breaths as images of the city flashed before him.
"I beg you t-" the rider stopped in mid sentence as a large arrow lodged itself into his chest. He looked down at the object before falling to his knees
All heads turned to the sight of armor and weapons glinting in the moonlight.
A large band of orc and Uruk-Hai stood atop a nearby hill, their weapons at the ready. Aragorn was surprised that he had not heard or seen them before they had so slyly made their way to the camp.
There was a shocked moment of stillness before chaos ensued as everyone tried to find battle equipment. Aragorn found himself reaching for the sword at his side that he had not taken off earlier in the evening.
It was already clear to him that even with the skill of the elves sent with him, this fight was not going to turn out well. Bodies of men and elves were already beginning to fall upon the ground like rain. It made him wonder how long her had stood there in contemplation.
The sharp pain of a weapon grazed into his arm and he looked up to see the face of a horrid beast standing there with a knife held in his hand.
Aragorn brought his sword up to lodge in the creature's side, knocking it off of his arma dn taking the knife with it. Aragorn stared at the blood that had begun to flow down his arm, but he paid no heed as shrill cries errupted from everywhere around him. Never in all of his days had he sensed so much loss. Maybe it was the elvish side getting to him.
Aragorn threw himself into the battel with fierceness that surprised even himself. He fought bravely for the life of his comrades that now lay still on the battlefield, and the few that fought in anger around him.
He could see Faramir a few feet away dripping blood from the side of his face in the moonlight that now seemed as bright as day to his eyes. An aura of anger and hostility could be seen glowing form the Captain's body as he ruthlessly fought with the orc in front of him. It was no surprise as Aragorn's eyes turned to the figure at Faramir's feet.
Éowyn.
Somehow the Uruk-Hai had found her. She now also lay still upon the ground, her garments laced with blood and dirt. Another victim of the terror that this evil uneashed.
Aragorn's focus had been so much on that of Éowyn that he did not notice the Uruk-Hai that had stumbled upon him. The blade of the beast's weapon plunged through his side from the back, protruding out the front.
Aragorn looked down in shock at the blade.
There was silence in his ears as he watched the blade twist, his blood flowing from the wound. And he looked up to see Faramir's hopeless and frightened face as he watched the beast finish what he had started.
Blackness began to swirl around his vision, the sights of the night and of the one-sided battle flashing before him. And in the midst he saw Arwen, her face lingering near his. He reached up to touch her, but felt leather and the metal from a uniform. Opening his eyes, Aragorn saw Faramir hovering above him.
"I am sorry, my friend," Aragorn whispered. "I could not save your city."
"There is nothing to be sorry for. You fought bravely."
"Do not stay and fight, Faramir. Run, take what survivors you can and be gone from here. You have a chance to live."
Aragorn began to cough roughly. He could feel and taste the blood in his mouth.
"Tell Arwen that I love her. Tell her..."
Aragorn watched Faramir fade from his vision as the battle and the moon turned into black.
~-~-~-~-~
Aragorn sat up abruptly and looked around to find himself not in the Rohan, but in his bedhamber in Minas Tirith. A cold sweat clung to his skin, making him shiver in the night. Beside him lay his wife, her back rising and falling in the comfort of the dreamworld.
The dreamworld.
Aragorn let out a long, heavy sigh s he realized that it was all a dream. A horrifying dream that he had put upon himself.
"Arwen," Aragorn said as he lay back down next to his wife. "Arwen..."
Arwen's eyes opened and she look over in worry at her husband. "What is it meleth-nin?"
"Nothing, it was nothing."
Arwen reached over and touched his face softly.
"Are you sure you are alright?" she asked.
"Yes, I will be fine. It was nothing more than a dream."
"What did you dream?" Arwen asked curiously.
Aragorn's brow furrowed as he lay there in silent thought, wondering if he should tell her about his curious experience.
"I dreamed of you, and of Imladris."
Arwen nodded and let out a contented sigh.
"Some days I long for the past, but then when I realize that you were not in my past, I long more for the present," she said while reached over to kiss him sweetly on the lips. "And for the future."
"You are happy here with me?"
"More than I could ever hope to be."
Aragorn nodded and closed his eyes as he lay back on the pillow. Being an elf was alright when there was no responsibility involved. Not that running a kingdom was any different. But at least he would never have to deal with torturous decisions of the sea and partings to the Halls of Mandos. No, he would be content to sit back and wait for the end of his existance with his beloved at his side.
a/n: you're probably going to want to hurt me right about now. sorry for waiting so long to update. i've had pneumonia, so that's sucked. but this story is at its official end, so i hope you enjoyed. thanks to all who have read and reviewed. and i'm sorry if you don't like this ending. i don't either, but with my medication, it's all i could come up with. my apologies if all is not well. once agian, blame it on the meds. typos and all. REVIEW!!
IMPORTANT*************IMPORTANT
well, kind of. i've got a new fic coming out soon that will be centered around boromir, and it's going to be hella good. i've got a bunch of it written, but if i post the first chapter, you have to promise me that you'll review it. because i don't ahve intentions to post it until it's all written. unless i get pursuaded otherwise....
Chapter Five: Coming Home
The road was long and dangerous, Aragorn knew this for he had many times ridden throughout Middle Earth with only himself for company, or sometimes a horse. This time there were many men to travel with, and twenty of Elrond's good archers. Although there were few, Aragorn knew that the skill of these elves would be worth more than the extensive number that men had to offer.
It had been at least two weeks since Aragorn had last seen Arwen and he had missed her every moment that they had been parted. Their time together in Imladris had been wonderful as it always had been in the mortal life, and he longed for her company.
Faramir saw Aragorn sitting alone on the edge of the company, his face showing deep thought as he looked up at the stars in the sky.
"What do you think of?" Faramir asked as he walked over and sat on the ground next to Aragorn.
"I think of my wife," Aragorn replied.
"Tell me about her," Faramir said quietly.
"You have seen her before," Aragorn said. "The elf with dark hair, and skin as pale as moonlight. I have known her since we were children; watched her grown for centuries. Even now I can almost feel her skin beneath my fingertips."
"You must have great love for her."
"Always."
Faramir looked up as Éowyn began walking toward he and Aragorn. She had a soft smile on her face.
Faramir looked at Aragorn and sighed softly, "Éowyn is my soul."
Éowyn opened her mouth to speak when Aragorn's ears picked up the osund of horses in the distance. He was not he only to hear as his elven kin stood and walked to the border of the camp, their eyes scanning in the distance as well. Faramir stood and put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder.
"What is it?" he asked worriedly.
"Riders, coming from the west at a great speed. Friend or foe I am not sure, but you should have the others at the ready."
Faramir looked at Éowyn and pleaded with her to run to safety, hide somewhere unseen from these intruders until it was safe. Not wanting to argue, she did as she was told, leaving everyone else ready to fight.
Aragorn, being the leader of the elves, and Faramir, being the leader of the men, stood to the front with their weapons at the ready as a band of perhaps twenty strangers rode near. One of the riders rode forth and stopped in front of Aragorn.
"Go back the way you came," the rider proclaimed loudly. "There is nothing left."
"Nothing left? What do you mean?" Faramir asked worriedly.
"Orc and Uruak-Hai have conquered the Riddermark. All survivors travel north to distant lands where they may find safety."
"We travel to Minas Tirith," Aragorn said.
"Minas Tirith is nothing more than a wasteland. Its people were destroyed."
Aragorn felt a hand clamp onto his shoulder as Faramir tried to keep balance. Aragorn closed his eyes and took steady breaths as images of the city flashed before him.
"I beg you t-" the rider stopped in mid sentence as a large arrow lodged itself into his chest. He looked down at the object before falling to his knees
All heads turned to the sight of armor and weapons glinting in the moonlight.
A large band of orc and Uruk-Hai stood atop a nearby hill, their weapons at the ready. Aragorn was surprised that he had not heard or seen them before they had so slyly made their way to the camp.
There was a shocked moment of stillness before chaos ensued as everyone tried to find battle equipment. Aragorn found himself reaching for the sword at his side that he had not taken off earlier in the evening.
It was already clear to him that even with the skill of the elves sent with him, this fight was not going to turn out well. Bodies of men and elves were already beginning to fall upon the ground like rain. It made him wonder how long her had stood there in contemplation.
The sharp pain of a weapon grazed into his arm and he looked up to see the face of a horrid beast standing there with a knife held in his hand.
Aragorn brought his sword up to lodge in the creature's side, knocking it off of his arma dn taking the knife with it. Aragorn stared at the blood that had begun to flow down his arm, but he paid no heed as shrill cries errupted from everywhere around him. Never in all of his days had he sensed so much loss. Maybe it was the elvish side getting to him.
Aragorn threw himself into the battel with fierceness that surprised even himself. He fought bravely for the life of his comrades that now lay still on the battlefield, and the few that fought in anger around him.
He could see Faramir a few feet away dripping blood from the side of his face in the moonlight that now seemed as bright as day to his eyes. An aura of anger and hostility could be seen glowing form the Captain's body as he ruthlessly fought with the orc in front of him. It was no surprise as Aragorn's eyes turned to the figure at Faramir's feet.
Éowyn.
Somehow the Uruk-Hai had found her. She now also lay still upon the ground, her garments laced with blood and dirt. Another victim of the terror that this evil uneashed.
Aragorn's focus had been so much on that of Éowyn that he did not notice the Uruk-Hai that had stumbled upon him. The blade of the beast's weapon plunged through his side from the back, protruding out the front.
Aragorn looked down in shock at the blade.
There was silence in his ears as he watched the blade twist, his blood flowing from the wound. And he looked up to see Faramir's hopeless and frightened face as he watched the beast finish what he had started.
Blackness began to swirl around his vision, the sights of the night and of the one-sided battle flashing before him. And in the midst he saw Arwen, her face lingering near his. He reached up to touch her, but felt leather and the metal from a uniform. Opening his eyes, Aragorn saw Faramir hovering above him.
"I am sorry, my friend," Aragorn whispered. "I could not save your city."
"There is nothing to be sorry for. You fought bravely."
"Do not stay and fight, Faramir. Run, take what survivors you can and be gone from here. You have a chance to live."
Aragorn began to cough roughly. He could feel and taste the blood in his mouth.
"Tell Arwen that I love her. Tell her..."
Aragorn watched Faramir fade from his vision as the battle and the moon turned into black.
~-~-~-~-~
Aragorn sat up abruptly and looked around to find himself not in the Rohan, but in his bedhamber in Minas Tirith. A cold sweat clung to his skin, making him shiver in the night. Beside him lay his wife, her back rising and falling in the comfort of the dreamworld.
The dreamworld.
Aragorn let out a long, heavy sigh s he realized that it was all a dream. A horrifying dream that he had put upon himself.
"Arwen," Aragorn said as he lay back down next to his wife. "Arwen..."
Arwen's eyes opened and she look over in worry at her husband. "What is it meleth-nin?"
"Nothing, it was nothing."
Arwen reached over and touched his face softly.
"Are you sure you are alright?" she asked.
"Yes, I will be fine. It was nothing more than a dream."
"What did you dream?" Arwen asked curiously.
Aragorn's brow furrowed as he lay there in silent thought, wondering if he should tell her about his curious experience.
"I dreamed of you, and of Imladris."
Arwen nodded and let out a contented sigh.
"Some days I long for the past, but then when I realize that you were not in my past, I long more for the present," she said while reached over to kiss him sweetly on the lips. "And for the future."
"You are happy here with me?"
"More than I could ever hope to be."
Aragorn nodded and closed his eyes as he lay back on the pillow. Being an elf was alright when there was no responsibility involved. Not that running a kingdom was any different. But at least he would never have to deal with torturous decisions of the sea and partings to the Halls of Mandos. No, he would be content to sit back and wait for the end of his existance with his beloved at his side.
a/n: you're probably going to want to hurt me right about now. sorry for waiting so long to update. i've had pneumonia, so that's sucked. but this story is at its official end, so i hope you enjoyed. thanks to all who have read and reviewed. and i'm sorry if you don't like this ending. i don't either, but with my medication, it's all i could come up with. my apologies if all is not well. once agian, blame it on the meds. typos and all. REVIEW!!
IMPORTANT*************IMPORTANT
well, kind of. i've got a new fic coming out soon that will be centered around boromir, and it's going to be hella good. i've got a bunch of it written, but if i post the first chapter, you have to promise me that you'll review it. because i don't ahve intentions to post it until it's all written. unless i get pursuaded otherwise....