Hello. I'm Ashley, my friend Michele wrote the first chapter for our story.
And I must apologize to all you Aragorn fans; (I am one myself) for those
horrible comments about his hair. Thank you Michele. I was disgusted. I'm
sorry you all had to read that. This chapter is for all of you Aragorn
fans! Our loveable, adorable, CLEAN Ranger is slightly uncoordinated, but
he's still really hot.
Disclaimers: For Eru's sakes, people, how many of these stories have you read? And how many of the authors actually own anything Tolkien related? Yeah, I didn't think so. But anyways, no, I don't own the books, characters, plot, and try as I might, I STILL don't own Aragorn, damn security...
On with the chapter!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Knock. Knock. Knock. Aragorn heaved a sigh. What was Middle-Earth coming to when the King of Gondor couldn't sleep in on a Saturday morning? He gently removed his hand from around Arwen's waist and kissed his beautiful sleeping wife on the forehead. Stepping out of bed, he tripped and fell, pulling the fine gauzy curtain hanging delicately around their bed to the floor and awakening his wife. Arwen opened her eyes and began to laugh at the sight of her husband desperately trying to get up, but being held down. As he fell, the curtain had wrapped itself around him, which put forth a problem, because it was still partly attached to their bed.
"Uh... my lord?" A servant knocked again, after hearing the loud crash from inside the bedroom. Arwen rolled off the bed from laughing and fell to the floor with a soft thud. Aragorn, by now very tired and nearly drowned in a sea of gauze, stood up, and with a sickening ripping noise walked to the door, the curtain trailing, half of it still wrapped around his body while the other half was hanging from the ceiling. The servant gasped at the sight of the room, but even more so at his King.
"Yes?" Aragorn sighed impatiently. "Uh... you have a phone call my lord," the servant stuttered. "Is it important? I'm sort of busy..." Aragorn trailed away, glancing back at the state of his room and at his wife sitting on the floor, legs spread apart, looking completely disheveled. "Well my lord, it's a long-distance call from a... hmmm... what's his name?" the servant scratched his head, "Fido, Fobo, Frogo..." Not remembering the name, the servant trailed off and looked completely lost. "Frodo?" Aragorn asked, with sudden interest. Why would Frodo call me on a Saturday morning... when I could be asleep!!!?? he thought to himself. "Right my lord, Frodo!" the servant exclaimed, then quickly shoved the phone into the King's hands and ran away.
"Frodo?" Aragorn said into the phone. "Aragorn?" Frodo wondered excitedly at his very good friend's voice on the other end. "Frodo! How good to hear from you!" Aragorn perked his voice up, despite the desire to crawl back into bed. "So how've you been?" "Well, I can't complain, but the reason I'm calling is to see if you can come to the Shire for my birthday party..." Frodo suggested hopefully. "When is it?" Aragorn asked. "Two weeks" Frodo replied. "Does this mean you can come?" Frodo questioned him with almost too much enthusiasm. "By the way, Arwen's invited also!" "Good, because she wouldn't miss it for the world!" Aragorn grinned, watching his wife, as she was trying to figure out what he was talking about. "So you'll come?" "Yes, we'll come." "Good, because you know, well it wouldn't be a party without you two. Gandalf will be telling all the stories of the ring and how he saved everyone, PRECIOUS!!, and getting high on our newly improved stock of Southfarthing. Sam will be off canoodling with Rosie. Did you know they got married? Yes, lovely little ceremony, if I do say so myself. And to think..." Aragorn drifted out as his bed called to him.
"Aragorn!" the bed said, "Come rest your head, for I am the fluffiest! And will someday rule the world! Mwahahahahahahaha!" After pondering if it's possible that after being vanquished, Sauron returned as their bed, Aragorn drifted back into listening...
"...Oh, and be careful of Arwen, because Merry and Pippin might try and-" Frodo was cut short by Aragorn's yell. "What!? They'll keep their hands off my wife!" "Whoa! Whoa! Buddy, I was just kidding! You tuned out, so I figured I'd screw with your head a little. I touched a nerve there, didn't I?" Frodo sounded as if he was stifling a laugh.
"HaHa... pretty funny," Aragorn's anger subsided, although he was really pissed off. "So, I'll see you at the party, okay?" Frodo said in between laughs. "Certainly, we'll see you then," Aragorn managed through gritted teeth before hanging up on the hysterical hobbit.
The first thing Aragorn did was slide out of his gauze cocoon, and saunter over to his wife. Arwen sat there, smiling up at him, unsure of what was going to happen. He scooped her up and threw her on the bed. "I think it not wise to openly insult the King of Gondor, my lady," Aragorn said sincerely with a wicked grin. "And what might the consequences be, my lord, for such a crime?" Arwen smiled, trying hard to match her husband's serious tone.
He then proceeded to tickle her mercilessly, until he was interrupted by another knock. "For Eru's sake! Why can't I spend some time with my charming wife and my bed!?" Aragorn gave a long and drawn out sigh, gave Arwen a quick kiss, and turned to the door. A timid young servant was standing apprehensively a few feet from the door. "My lord, you are going somewhere?" "Ummm... yes... but... how-" Aragorn was confused as to how this servant could possibly know anything of the birthday party. "An attendant guessed from your conversation that you would be traveling and informed me," the boy explained shyly. "But I thought... oh, never mind. Yes, the Queen and I are journeying to the Shire," Aragorn sighed, remembering his bed. "We shall set off tomorrow, begin to ready the horses and inform the cooks of our journey. Ask them to pack various... traveling... food," slightly unaware of what he was saying. "Very self-explanatory..." Arwen stood there smiling at her husband. "Well unless you would rather live off the land, my dear, I expect we bring something," Aragorn smiled exasperatedly. "Inform the cooks I shall be down shortly to compile our supplies," Arwen spun her head around to face the servant. "Yes, my lady," the servant nodded. "My lord, my lady," he bowed and walked quickly out of sight.
"Well, now that everyone knows we're leaving, we might actually get ready to leave," Arwen stated matter-of-factly. "Nooooo..." Aragorn moaned, looking back at his bed. Then he realized that it might be Sauron. So he sighed heavily and threw his shoulders down, giving off a defeated and extremely exhausted appearance. "Fine... I'll go prepare... something," Aragorn heaved an exasperated sigh. Arwen smiled at her husband, thinking he looked absolutely adorable (AND CLEAN!!!!!!!!). She watched him shuffle away, heave a sigh of her own, and turn down the hallway leading to the kitchen. It's going to be a long day, she thought.
Disclaimers: For Eru's sakes, people, how many of these stories have you read? And how many of the authors actually own anything Tolkien related? Yeah, I didn't think so. But anyways, no, I don't own the books, characters, plot, and try as I might, I STILL don't own Aragorn, damn security...
On with the chapter!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Knock. Knock. Knock. Aragorn heaved a sigh. What was Middle-Earth coming to when the King of Gondor couldn't sleep in on a Saturday morning? He gently removed his hand from around Arwen's waist and kissed his beautiful sleeping wife on the forehead. Stepping out of bed, he tripped and fell, pulling the fine gauzy curtain hanging delicately around their bed to the floor and awakening his wife. Arwen opened her eyes and began to laugh at the sight of her husband desperately trying to get up, but being held down. As he fell, the curtain had wrapped itself around him, which put forth a problem, because it was still partly attached to their bed.
"Uh... my lord?" A servant knocked again, after hearing the loud crash from inside the bedroom. Arwen rolled off the bed from laughing and fell to the floor with a soft thud. Aragorn, by now very tired and nearly drowned in a sea of gauze, stood up, and with a sickening ripping noise walked to the door, the curtain trailing, half of it still wrapped around his body while the other half was hanging from the ceiling. The servant gasped at the sight of the room, but even more so at his King.
"Yes?" Aragorn sighed impatiently. "Uh... you have a phone call my lord," the servant stuttered. "Is it important? I'm sort of busy..." Aragorn trailed away, glancing back at the state of his room and at his wife sitting on the floor, legs spread apart, looking completely disheveled. "Well my lord, it's a long-distance call from a... hmmm... what's his name?" the servant scratched his head, "Fido, Fobo, Frogo..." Not remembering the name, the servant trailed off and looked completely lost. "Frodo?" Aragorn asked, with sudden interest. Why would Frodo call me on a Saturday morning... when I could be asleep!!!?? he thought to himself. "Right my lord, Frodo!" the servant exclaimed, then quickly shoved the phone into the King's hands and ran away.
"Frodo?" Aragorn said into the phone. "Aragorn?" Frodo wondered excitedly at his very good friend's voice on the other end. "Frodo! How good to hear from you!" Aragorn perked his voice up, despite the desire to crawl back into bed. "So how've you been?" "Well, I can't complain, but the reason I'm calling is to see if you can come to the Shire for my birthday party..." Frodo suggested hopefully. "When is it?" Aragorn asked. "Two weeks" Frodo replied. "Does this mean you can come?" Frodo questioned him with almost too much enthusiasm. "By the way, Arwen's invited also!" "Good, because she wouldn't miss it for the world!" Aragorn grinned, watching his wife, as she was trying to figure out what he was talking about. "So you'll come?" "Yes, we'll come." "Good, because you know, well it wouldn't be a party without you two. Gandalf will be telling all the stories of the ring and how he saved everyone, PRECIOUS!!, and getting high on our newly improved stock of Southfarthing. Sam will be off canoodling with Rosie. Did you know they got married? Yes, lovely little ceremony, if I do say so myself. And to think..." Aragorn drifted out as his bed called to him.
"Aragorn!" the bed said, "Come rest your head, for I am the fluffiest! And will someday rule the world! Mwahahahahahahaha!" After pondering if it's possible that after being vanquished, Sauron returned as their bed, Aragorn drifted back into listening...
"...Oh, and be careful of Arwen, because Merry and Pippin might try and-" Frodo was cut short by Aragorn's yell. "What!? They'll keep their hands off my wife!" "Whoa! Whoa! Buddy, I was just kidding! You tuned out, so I figured I'd screw with your head a little. I touched a nerve there, didn't I?" Frodo sounded as if he was stifling a laugh.
"HaHa... pretty funny," Aragorn's anger subsided, although he was really pissed off. "So, I'll see you at the party, okay?" Frodo said in between laughs. "Certainly, we'll see you then," Aragorn managed through gritted teeth before hanging up on the hysterical hobbit.
The first thing Aragorn did was slide out of his gauze cocoon, and saunter over to his wife. Arwen sat there, smiling up at him, unsure of what was going to happen. He scooped her up and threw her on the bed. "I think it not wise to openly insult the King of Gondor, my lady," Aragorn said sincerely with a wicked grin. "And what might the consequences be, my lord, for such a crime?" Arwen smiled, trying hard to match her husband's serious tone.
He then proceeded to tickle her mercilessly, until he was interrupted by another knock. "For Eru's sake! Why can't I spend some time with my charming wife and my bed!?" Aragorn gave a long and drawn out sigh, gave Arwen a quick kiss, and turned to the door. A timid young servant was standing apprehensively a few feet from the door. "My lord, you are going somewhere?" "Ummm... yes... but... how-" Aragorn was confused as to how this servant could possibly know anything of the birthday party. "An attendant guessed from your conversation that you would be traveling and informed me," the boy explained shyly. "But I thought... oh, never mind. Yes, the Queen and I are journeying to the Shire," Aragorn sighed, remembering his bed. "We shall set off tomorrow, begin to ready the horses and inform the cooks of our journey. Ask them to pack various... traveling... food," slightly unaware of what he was saying. "Very self-explanatory..." Arwen stood there smiling at her husband. "Well unless you would rather live off the land, my dear, I expect we bring something," Aragorn smiled exasperatedly. "Inform the cooks I shall be down shortly to compile our supplies," Arwen spun her head around to face the servant. "Yes, my lady," the servant nodded. "My lord, my lady," he bowed and walked quickly out of sight.
"Well, now that everyone knows we're leaving, we might actually get ready to leave," Arwen stated matter-of-factly. "Nooooo..." Aragorn moaned, looking back at his bed. Then he realized that it might be Sauron. So he sighed heavily and threw his shoulders down, giving off a defeated and extremely exhausted appearance. "Fine... I'll go prepare... something," Aragorn heaved an exasperated sigh. Arwen smiled at her husband, thinking he looked absolutely adorable (AND CLEAN!!!!!!!!). She watched him shuffle away, heave a sigh of her own, and turn down the hallway leading to the kitchen. It's going to be a long day, she thought.