Prompt: "Imagine, that after believing that you died to save him, Aragorn's face light up when he discovers you turning up to Helm's Deep looking half-dead, beaten up, bruised and scarred, looking for him"

Author's note: This one shot is the second part to "All the words left unsaid."

You were dead; no other explanation could be made. Falling off a cliff into the rocky rapids below, was a feat nobody was able to survive. Not even you.

Yet 24 hours on, from your watery demise, almost everyone had come to terms with your absence. Almost everyone. One man, the man who'd always harbored affections for you, was taking the revelation harder than most. Aragorn tried so hard to delve himself into his work - to keep his mind distracted. But nothing worked; with each free moment he had, he glanced towards the old, weathered bracelet that he had thrust into his possession - it was your mothers, then it became yours. You seldom parted from it, and now it was his final piece of you.

The sun fell, then rose, and his attitude hadn't changed. Legolas began to grow concerned for his friend's well-being, but the Elf knew that he wouldn't be able to understand the pain and loss the Ranger was going through.

More work. Planning the defensive maneuvers. Debating with hope, as to whether Saruman had fallen for their sudden evacuation; with Grima on his side, there was little reason to believe in success. More work; even more planning. The monotonous nature of the work that he threw himself into was never ending. The majority of those he came across either knew nothing about your fate, or they'd had their lives changed dramatically by you.

You were a shining star to him, that had been snuffed out like a wax candle.

The time was now long midday - two days. Two days without you in the world. So much work had been accomplished, but he needed something. He wanted to say those words to you; the words that continue to burn in his mind, his heart - within his very soul.

War planning with Theoden seemed to put his broken mind to rest for a while, but when he left to catch up on some rest , he could only think about one person - you.

Unknown to everyone else, you had managed to survive the plunge into the rapids; you were still unsure how. But riding towards Helm's Deep upon Brego's back, you were highly thankful for you ability to cheat death.

The sight of the monstrous army that was heading directly for your destination was one of the reasons that you urged the horse faster. The other reason that drove you forwards... What was it? You weren't sure entirely, but your heart pulled, twisted and ached terribly every time your mind dared to think and consider it.

The wind blew through your dirty hair. The sense of freedom overwhelmed you for a brief moment, but it was short lived, as you noticed it was the heaving breaths before the determined slaughter. Nobody at Helm's Deep realised just how wrong they were, but as you glanced upwards to the horizon, you saw Helm Hammerhand's Rohan stronghold. Sighing deeply, you mentally prepared yourself for what you needed to do; nobody likes being the bearer of bad news, and were basically delivering a death warrant.

They say that the hands of a king are the hands of a healer,but right now no amount of healing would be able to make this king-in-exile feel better.

He'd helped out as much as they would all let him; with nothing to do, he headed to his temporary living space and sharpened his sword. Nobody bothered him, which meant he was being bombarded with guilt-ridden thoughts. How could he not save you? Why did Eru have to claim you now, while you had all that time left?

The feelings kept coming, until he was disrupted by a commotion outside. He'd expected the refugees to be angry, frustrated and desperate to return to their homes, but nothing that he could hear sounded anything like what he expected.

They sounded happy.

Confused, as to what could be happening outside, he placed his sword and whetstone down on the bed sheets, before heading out to see what the commotion was about. As he walked through the halls, he listened to what was being cried out in joy; many different voices overlapped one another, but out of everything audible, he was able to make out one word:

[your name]

He passed Legolas, who pushed his friend forwards with a knowing smile. And, when he managed to get outside into the open, he heard it, as clear as day. You, asking Gimli where he was. He felt his heart leap and ache, but a smile transformed the gloomy atmosphere. Aragorn waited where he was, leaning against the support beam with your most prized possession in his hands. He couldn't stop smiling; you'd returned.

Moments passed, but they didn't feel as agonising as the eternity that passed, while he waited for you. Like he always promised himself that he would. He heard somebody begin to walk up the front steps, the stairs he was waiting beyond, and within moments he saw you.

You had cuts, bruises and looked completely beaten up, but you were alive - you had come back. He noticed that you glanced around the place as you walked past every opening; your weary eyes surveyed the entire area, taking everything in. Then, they landed on him, and a wide smile erupted on your face; Aragorn felt his smile grow wider.

You walked - or rather, limped - towards him, and stopped when you were close.

"You're late." He mentions and you roll your eyes.

"I'm always late." You reply, scoffing. It was true; no matter how well you fought - words or sword - you were almost always late for anything important. The council of Elrond was a good example.

He smiles wider at you, glancing down with such admiration in his eyes. Aragorn's heart tugged when you laughed lightly at him. Then, while taken of guard, you moved forward and hugged him. When he came out of his shock, he hugged you back. Several moments were spent in this embrace, with you trying to avoid wincing from the pain you were experiencing, and with him trying to hug as you as hard as he dared. You both let go of one another eventually, and your hand subconsciously went to your wrist; to grasp the bracelet that no longer resided there.

Aragorn watched as you frowned at this realisation, and after being confused for a moment, he gingerly placed the bracelet against your palm and you encased your fingers around the cool, calming and carefully shaped steel.

A smile blossomed over your features when you spied the bracelet that had now returned rightfully to be within your grasp once again.

"How did you find this?" You query, desperate to know how he had retrieved it from the masses of grass and destruction.

"Does it really matter?" He asks back.

"No, I suppose not." you reply, smiling. Aragorn felt his heart flutter when he once again spied on the smile that you gave him the hope he sometimes lacked. He sighed lightly, preparing himself; he's going to tell you something he should have mentioned a long time ago.

"[your name]" he says before lightly sighing once more. "I need to tell you something." You gazed at him in wonder, before you realised what he was going to say - what he was finally going to reveal to you.

And you were glad that he felt the same way.

Working with your instincts, you lean forward before he has time to open his mouth. Moving your arm, so that your hand rested against his neck, you close the agonising gap that had been left for far too long.

Aragorn hesitated for a split second, before he gently kiss you back. His arms snaked once more around your waist, and your slung themselves around his neck. Pulling one another closer, neither of you seemed to desire breaking apart. But after what seemed like an entire age, you removed the connection between you both.

You placed your forehead against his, before whispering something for his ears only.

"You don't need to say a word mellon-nin." you hummed to him; both of you couldn't help but smile.