The Confession of a Hand Maiden
By: The Pathetically Under Talented.
My name is Linwe, I am one of Lady Arwen*s handmaidens, and I have a secret. I love Lord Aragorn, my lady's lover, and he loves me as well.
I loved him from the very first moment I laid eyes upon him, the day I came to live at the Last Homely House.
He singled me out, I cannot say why. Perhaps it was because I was the only flaxen haired maiden in a crowd of beautiful raven-haired elves. Perhaps he felt I needed someone to talk to. Maybe he saw what no one else cared about. That's how it felt.
He smiled at me and his gaze met mind. You. His eyes said. I care about you. From that moment on, my heart was so full it felt as though it would break. And it does break every time I see him with my Lady, because no man can serve two mistresses, and she is the favored. I hate her for that, for stealing him from me.
I*m so ashamed of the way I feel I could cry, but no matter what I do I still cannot help the way the breath is pulled from my lungs when ever I see him enter a room or when he says my name. Linwe, I care about you. His eyes still tell me. No one has ever cared before.
King Aragorn, my illicit love. Mine. And I am his. No matter if Lady Arwen is the one by his side.
I love him. I know him. He's like me. Alone, lost in need of a friend. But Surely I jest. He has love. Arwen. He is not alone. He found his home, in Gondor, with her.
But that still leaves me lost in a place that is not my home, cannot be my home, but nevermore to be alone. He left me with one last sweet memory. The taste still lingers on my lips. I can remember just how the shiver went up my spine as he closed the space between us.
They say a ring was the source of ultimate, power, but I think that they were wrong.
I think there is no greater power in the halls of the living or the dead that can surpass the power of the purity of one last kiss, because in that one moment, he was mine forever.
A/N: I'll be awaiting your flames.
By: The Pathetically Under Talented.
My name is Linwe, I am one of Lady Arwen*s handmaidens, and I have a secret. I love Lord Aragorn, my lady's lover, and he loves me as well.
I loved him from the very first moment I laid eyes upon him, the day I came to live at the Last Homely House.
He singled me out, I cannot say why. Perhaps it was because I was the only flaxen haired maiden in a crowd of beautiful raven-haired elves. Perhaps he felt I needed someone to talk to. Maybe he saw what no one else cared about. That's how it felt.
He smiled at me and his gaze met mind. You. His eyes said. I care about you. From that moment on, my heart was so full it felt as though it would break. And it does break every time I see him with my Lady, because no man can serve two mistresses, and she is the favored. I hate her for that, for stealing him from me.
I*m so ashamed of the way I feel I could cry, but no matter what I do I still cannot help the way the breath is pulled from my lungs when ever I see him enter a room or when he says my name. Linwe, I care about you. His eyes still tell me. No one has ever cared before.
King Aragorn, my illicit love. Mine. And I am his. No matter if Lady Arwen is the one by his side.
I love him. I know him. He's like me. Alone, lost in need of a friend. But Surely I jest. He has love. Arwen. He is not alone. He found his home, in Gondor, with her.
But that still leaves me lost in a place that is not my home, cannot be my home, but nevermore to be alone. He left me with one last sweet memory. The taste still lingers on my lips. I can remember just how the shiver went up my spine as he closed the space between us.
They say a ring was the source of ultimate, power, but I think that they were wrong.
I think there is no greater power in the halls of the living or the dead that can surpass the power of the purity of one last kiss, because in that one moment, he was mine forever.
A/N: I'll be awaiting your flames.