This story is dedicated to Amazin Angel, cos she really is the most amazin friend I could ever have wished for :) … xxxxxx
…And of course it's something fluffy!
The Storm at Night
A white flash filled the room and Aragorn snapped awake, alarmed by the disturbance. The bedroom was thrown into deep darkness once more and he blinked unsurely, not knowing whether he had imagined the piercing light. Torrents of rain were beating against the walls of the Tower and forceful gusts buffeted so hard and so loudly that he sincerely believed that the downpour would break in and drown him. Dark ominous shadows passed over the windows and Aragorn sank down below the covers, perturbed by the unnatural shapes and their strange forms.
Suddenly there was a loud thunderclap which shook the whole room and made the floor tremble. Aragorn shrank into the bed, cowering away in terror and shutting his eyes as if it would shut out the storm. Even though he was King, it didn't mean he was not afraid of the simple things which haunted little children.
Aragorn had always been scared of thunder and lightening, and even when he had been a Ranger and travelled outdoors for months upon end, whenever there had been massive black clouds casting over the sky he had crept away somewhere safe, in a hollow or crevice where he might not be agitated by the fierceness of the rain torrents. He could still remember why he had been frightened like this, for every time this had happened the memory had flared across his mind.
When he had been a little child, and he had lived with his mother, there had been a storm one evening. As he had watched his mother gather firewood to keep them warm, Estel had seen a bolt of lightening strike a tree nearby, and as it split, it tumbled down onto his screaming mother. The cries still made him shiver as he thought about it, the blaze of fire and the paralysing shock as he had seen her fall to the ground. She had not been killed, but she had been injured badly, and luckily for both Estel and his mother, some Wood Elves had passed by and rescued them.
But the pain had never left Aragorn's heart, and he believed it never would. He had thought his mother had died as she had been crushed, and that fear still lingered. Not for his mother now, but for another woman.
Aragorn slowly turned to look at his Evenstar sleeping beside him. She was completely undisturbed by the thunder and lightening outside, and her chest was still rising and falling gently beneath the blankets. Her dark hair rippled out from her pale face, which was so smooth and looked almost untouched. Closed lightly were her eyes, still and calm and dreamlike as the wind howled menacingly outside of their room, and the sound of her breathing was so quiet that it was drowned out, vanquished unfairly from Aragorn's alert ears. Every single movement terrified him, making him think that the thunder had broken through and was coming for them. She seemed even more beautiful than ever before, and he was so afraid that Arwen would be harmed, be hurt as his mother was by the heartless lightning.
Suddenly the room was lit up eerily again by a blinding white light, and then it was blanked out as quickly as it had appeared. He cringed into the unwelcoming bed, his body numb from the cold and the air all around chilled as if by the evil wind outside. His ears throbbed as he lay in wait, listening for the strike of the thunder, not wanting it to come, but knowing that inevitably it would. He held his breath, time going slower than ever, just waiting there to catch him and draw him in.
The roll of thunder came, and it blasted through the room, throwing Aragorn into a state of terror. He flinched and bunched up into a fetus position, trembling nervously and begging for the storm to go away. He whimpered as if he had been struck down himself, the panic hurting him agonizingly already.
"Shhh," Arwen softly whispered, and Aragorn heard her turn onto her side as she edged nearer to him. He was too afraid to look up, but he felt her warm hand touch his chest where the nightshirt did not cover him.
"Shhh," Arwen hushed, and she stroked his arms slowly, knowing the fears which haunted Men so easily. "Estel…" Arwen began to sing quietly an elvish song, the melodious words melting his rigid body and warming his shaken heart. He felt himself being lulled into a deep sleep, the elven magic taking over him, Arwen's gentle voice so full of love and peace…
The music stopped and Aragorn looked up. He found himself on the middle of an island hidden in bleary murkiness. All around him was thick fog and stinging rain, and he was drenched completely. A biting wind whipped at his body and cut into his skin like a knife. Beside him Arwen lay, still and motionless, on the hard sharp rocks. As he gazed around unsurely, he saw creepy fingers of mist reaching out to her, grey apparitions straining to pull her body away from him. They squirmed as they came nearer, sucking away the air around him and filling it instead with suffocating fog which choked his lungs. He tried to brush the hands away, but they made his arms go all leaden and icy, and he couldn't move his body even in the smallest way. Very soon he was enclosed, trapped, ensnared, and unable to escape. He wanted to save Arwen, but he could not do anything, nothing at all, and the frustration was unbearable. Suddenly he heard a deafening roar, and he looked up to see a white streak shoot down from the black sky, fiery and writhing with hatred, falling down quicker than he had ever thought possible. He saw it draw closer, nearer and nearer, and then it struck Arwen's lifeless body, and there was a massive explosion of light. Aragorn screamed and screamed, desperately trying to save her, but it was too late…
"Estel! Estel!" Aragorn stopped yelling as Arwen's concerned voice called him, and he blinked awake, mortally relieved that she was there. The pain was unbearable, and his heart was pounding so fast he thought his ribcage would burst. Freezing sweat covered his shaking body, and he shivered uncontrollably.
"Estel…" Arwen soothed him, and she moved closer to his cold body, stroking his damp forehead. "Don't worry…" she smiled softly at him through the gloom, leaning gently on his chest as she cuddled him lovingly.
Aragorn smelt the familiar scent of her hair, and her warm touch against his skin. She was with him, and she was safe… Gradually he calmed down, and his breathing becoming slower and his heart not hurting his chest. He blinked rapidly, not wanting to risk loosing the sight of Arwen's face again. Shakily he reached out a hand to hold her closer, to never let her go, to never loose her…
He saw the flash again, and the sight of Arwen being hit by the twisting lightening bolt. He cried out again, and he closed his eyes in fear, wishing the image would go, and leave him alone.
"Shhh," Arwen whispered, "don't think about it." She leant closer so that he could see her face clearer. "I'm here. Don't worry Estel." Slowly Arwen gave him a kiss, parting his lips so that she could gently massage his tongue and warm his heart with her love. She heard Aragorn give a little sigh as he felt her slip inside his mouth, and she didn't want to let go as she parted for breath. He smiled up at her as she breathed heavily, gazing into his eyes and pouring out her soul so willingly.
"Arwen…" he called her, and she smiled at the sound of her name. His lips parted slightly as he watched her beautiful face, sensing her infatuation for him wash throughout his shaken body.
"I thought I lost you," he stuttered hoarsely, blinking quickly again. But Arwen passed her fingertips over his eyelids and whispered quietly.
"Don't dream of that." She closed her eyes as she laid a hand on his face, praying in her mind that he would not see her haunting dead figure again as he drifted to sleep again. As she brought her hand down his cheek and over his bristly chin, he sighed gently, and she knew her elven power had passed into him without even his knowing.
She opened her eyes again, and immediately she fell into Aragorn's eyes as she was filled with the highest love and lusting for him. His innocent face was so pure, and his soft eyes were just calling for her special touch. What could she do except give him his heart's most passionate wish?
"Estel," she breathed, drawing her body onto his, and feeling his hands bring her nearer to him. As she stared into his eyes she felt her body begin to react without even her ask for it. Her tummy pressed to his and his night-shirt slid up to his chest whilst Arwen leant down upon him, brushing her lips over his. Slowly, she pulled her own nightdress up and brought Aragorn's hands up to her bare chest. Aragorn sighed fervently and dragged her closer, the craving for her luscious kiss too much to bear.
Just before Arwen touched his soft lips and submitted to their love she whispered,
"Let me show you your dream…"
