A Simple Conversation
Still Awake
Pangs for Home
The fire had burned down and loud snores of half-inebriated humans, dwarves and Hobbits filled the close, warm air of the room. He was sure that most of the inhabitants of the room did sleep soundly, judging by the chorus of contented snores, but Aragorn did not. Many troubles plagued his mind. Troubles that did not allow him to lower his head and immerse his senses in the soft caressing hold of sleep. He knew this would be the case as it had been like this for many nights. Although he had craved sleep the blissful lack of awareness of his surroundings refused to make haste to come to him.
With a soft and quiet sigh he rose from the chair by the fire and stretched his back that had seemed to freeze and constrict from his uncomfortable slouched position that he had been too insensible to shift from.
After a loud crack resounded around the room he relaxed and shivered slightly from his sudden change of position. It felt like something extremely cold had just been poured down his back. After the sensation had departed he moved to the door of the room, the door, which led to the outside.
He had been sitting in the entrance hall, it being the next room from where the company slept in the mutual safety of company.
He reached forward and opened the large doors, which had no need to be bolted as guards cast their protective gazes on it from dawn till dusk. Closing the large gate-like door behind him with ease allowed him by his strong, and well-practiced arms.
Allowed access to the covered entrance of the Golden Hall and the cool breeze of the Rohirrim wind, Aragorn was finally content. Never had he been overly comfortable indoors. Being raised in Rivendell, the majority of his early life had been whiled away in the outdoors. And because of the Elves perfectionist nature and attention to detail, combined with their deep love of the woods, all of Rivendell held a feel of the wild. Trees that grew under the roofs of porches, some that even held up the structure itself. Few rooms were completely enclosed and none without a window, to act as a portal to the outside forest.
As he closed the door behind him the soft breeze hit him and he walked over to the grey clad figure, which he knew was Legolas. A short conversation of not much importance occurred (A/N: Not much importance to this fic I mean) and the pair of old friends stood beside each other, in a comfortable silence.
"Sleep still eludes you then, mellon-nîn?" Legolas asked without setting his gaze upon his friend.
"Whether it eludes me or I elude it I do not know," answered Aragorn, gazing out across the wide plains of Rohan that stretched for all eternity until they met the horizon.
"You are troubled by something still? Perhaps some friendly conversation would banish the unfriendly matter from your thoughts?" Legolas suggested with a wayward grin.
Aragorn turned his eyes to his Elven friend. With a smile that bordered on the edge of grim he replied; "I think that no amount of conversation would banish the unruly serpent from my mind. Morgoth himself seems to meddle."
"It is your choice, mellon-nîn. You should know that if you change your mind, here is where I shall be…"
Aragorn simply nodded in his reply and returned to the interior of the lavish Golden Hall.
The sounds of snores assaulted his ears once more. It is strange that whenever you cannot sleep, it feels like you are the only one in the world still awake…
Kind of pointless, but sure, do you really need a
reason to write an Aragorn Fanfiction?
Review please!