The two weeks dragged by, each day filled with a palpable sense of anticipation and unease. Finally, the announcement was made that they were ready to depart from the safety of Rivendell. Kitra did her best to stay away from Frodo, knowing that the longer she spent in close proximity to the ring, the more vulnerable she became to Sauron's insidious influence. She could feel his malevolent gaze on her at all times, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked within the deceptively simple golden band.
Despite the hurt glances she received from Frodo when she would quickly walk away if he approached her, she knew it was for the fellowship's own good that she stayed distant. Instead, she focused on training Alana and delving deeper into the library's vast archives to uncover any information on her mysterious lineage.
But even amidst their preparations and planning, Kitra couldn't resist stealing every possible moment alone with Aragorn. Both of them understood that once they set foot on this perilous journey, their chances for private moments together would be scarce, so they cherished each one they had in these final days before their departure.
As sunlight filtered through the window, she stirred from her slumber to find Alana already awake and neatly packing what remained of her belongings. The warmth of her robe still clung to her body, a fond smile spreading across her face as she remembered how Aragorn had likely tucked her into bed last night. Their conversation had been so engaging that she couldn't recall drifting off to sleep; only him standing on the balcony with a glass of wine in hand as she sat on the chaise in the open night air.
"How early is it?" She asked as she swung her feet over the edge of the bed.
"Not yet dawn," Alana replied quietly. "We leave at sun up."
With an exasperated sigh, she rose gracefully from her plush velvet chair and gathered up her garments to change behind the privacy screen. The soft fabric of her silk robe slid effortlessly off her body, revealing a canvas of scars that told stories of battles fought and won. In their place, she donned a sleek black high-necked tunic with the sleeves slightly too long, giving it a hint of nonchalance. Her form-fitting leather trousers hugged her figure perfectly, tucked into tall, sturdy brown boots that spoke of both style and practicality. Over this, she layered a dark brown leather coat that cascaded past her knees in a dramatic fashion. The deep V-neckline showcased just enough of her skin, while the tailored fit accentuated her hourglass silhouette. To complete the ensemble, she added an ornate leather corset adorned with multiple buckles at the waist, cinching it perfectly. And finally, she slipped on a pair of black fingerless gloves, seamlessly blending with the extended sleeves of her tunic.
As she emerged from behind the screen, a sharp knock at the door interrupted their silence.
"Enter." She walked over to the chest at the end of the bed. Opening it up she grabbed her sword and dagger. The sword went around her waist and her dagger she placed at her lower back where it would be concealed under her cloak. She looked up to find Aragorn opening the door, clearly ready to leave Rivendell behind. "Good morning."
"Good morning. How'd you sleep?" He asked as he closed the door behind him.
"Quite well actually."
"I'm about to visit my mother before we join the rest of the group. Would you care to join me?" He asked as she slipped her cloak on. She slipped her bow and quiver over her back and readjusted the hood so it sat on top of the strap. She nodded in agreement and told Alana they would meet her there. He took her hand in his and lead her through Rivendell to his mother's grave where they knelt before her.
"She's beautiful." She whispered as she peared up at the statue. He just smiled, looking straight forward and the headstone. She looked down and read the inscription out loud. "Gilraen; Onen i-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel anim. I gave Hope to the Dúnedain; I have kept no hope for myself."
Aragorn reached out to pull the moss out of the lettering that had accumulated over the years. She too reached forward and wiped away the mud and the leaves that were sitting on the edge of the white stone. She looked at her lover with an understanding look as he reached up and touched the face of the statue of his mother.
"Anirne hene beriad I chên în. Ned Imladris nauthant e le beriathar aen." (She wanted to protect her child. She thought that in Rivendell you would be safe.) Lord Elrond's voice suddenly appeared behind them and it took everything she had not to jump at the sound. She hadn't even heard him approach. "In her heart, your mother knew you'd be hunted all your life; That you'd never escape your fate. The skill of the Elves can re-forge the sword of Kings, but only you have the power to wield it."
"I do not want that power. I have never wanted it." Aragorn told his old mentor, she looked back at Elrond and could see the annoyance of Aragorn's stubborn mindset written on his face.
"You are the last of that bloodline. There is no other." Lord Elrond implored. She looked back at Aragorn and he stayed silent. She could hear Lord Elrond's sigh followed by his retreating footsteps and she also had to try not to sigh. Aragorn was so stubborn and while she understood the reason he didn't want to claim the throne, she also knew that by the end of this war he may not have a choice in the matter. Next to her Aragorn stood and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Come, it's time for us to depart." She nods and follows him out of the graveyard. As they make their way to the courtyard, she saw Arwen approaching and decided to give them some space. She gave a short explanation that she left something in her room and left his side. The truth was she did forget something in her room, but it was an action she had meant to do last night, not an item she needed to grab.
After arriving back at her room, she wasted no time before retrieving her trusty dagger from its well-worn sheath and placing herself before the mirror. The journey ahead would be a grueling one, and she knew that her long hair would only get in the way. With resolve in her eyes, she quickly gathered her locks into a tight ponytail and positioned her blade just above the ribbon. With a swift yet careful motion, she began to slice through the thick strands. It took a few moments of focused determination, but soon she held her severed ponytail in her hand. Her remaining hair now fell in messy waves, just brushing the top of her shoulders. Smiling with satisfaction at her new look, she left the discarded hair on the vanity and made her way to join the others. Though it was not a perfect haircut, she had no doubt that Alana would fix it up for her along their journey, as she always did with any imperfections.
With swift, eager steps, she raced through the courtyard, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized the sun had just begun its ascent into the sky. She knew she was going to be the last one to arrive and she pushed herself harder, determined to make it before anyone noticed her tardiness.
As she rounded the corner into the courtyard, she immediately spotted the hobbits huddled together off to the left. Legolas stood tall and regal beside Gandalf and Boromir, while Gimli stood off on his own, lost in thought. Her eyes then landed on Alana, who was engaged in a conversation with Aragorn. As if sensing her presence, Alana turned and caught sight of her just in time. With a playful grin, she smacked Aragorn on the chest.
Aragorn's protests were cut short as Alana took hold of his chin and forced him to face in her direction. His gaze locked onto hers and for a moment they were both taken aback. The intensity of their eye contact made her cheeks flush with heat.
"What?" She asked Aragorn as she stopped in front of the pair.
"It's so short." He chuckled, running a couple of strands through his fingers.
"Don't worry my lord there is still plenty to grab on to," Alana remarked rather quickly before she ran off to join the hobbits. Her cousin threw a mischievous look over her shoulder and wiggled her eyebrows at the pair. With no hesitation, Kitra's face turned bright red from embarrassment and she stumbled over her words.
"P-p-please ignore her." She stuttered for a moment before yelling over at her cousin. Alana only laughed and continued on to join the others, leaving Kitra flustered and flustered at her own reaction. She couldn't help but feel annoyed at Alana's teasing behavior.
"I like it," Aragorn told her, as he leaned down to give her a quick kiss. Her face burned even hotter as she realized most of the fellowship was starring at them and she had to resist the urge to throw her hood over her face to hide the blush on her cheeks.
"The Ringbearer is setting out on the quest of Mount Doom and you who travel with him, neither oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose and may the blessings of elves, and men, and all free folk go with you." Lord Elrond addressed them, placing his hand over his heart before extending it to them in an elven farewell. Legolas, Aragorn and herself copied his movements as a sign of respect before they moved out of the way to let Frodo pass.
As the sun set over the elven city, Gandalf's deep and commanding voice echoed through the stone paths. "The Fellowship awaits the Ringbearer," he declared to Frodo, who stood at the edge of the archway. The ancient stones of the city seemed to vibrate with anticipation as Frodo slowly turned around to begin his journey. His eyes flickered nervously, betraying the weight of his task. As he made his way through the arch, she watched him with a mixture of fear and admiration. Every fiber in her being wanted to step backwards, but she stayed rooted in place, watching as Frodo passed by her and disappeared into the unknown. A sense of foreboding hung in the air, and she couldn't help but wonder what fate awaited them all on this perilous quest.
"Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?" Frodo asked. Gandalf stepped up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder to guide him.
"Left."
Kitra fell into step beside Aragorn as the fellowship made their way out of Rivendell, the elven city growing smaller and smaller behind them with each passing step. Though her heart was heavy with the weight of their quest, she drew strength from Aragorn's steadfast presence at her side.
As they trekked through the rugged wilderness, Kitra kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, her keen senses alert for any signs of danger. The hobbits chattered quietly amongst themselves, their spirits still high in these early days of their journey. Gandalf led the way with purposeful strides, his staff tapping a rhythmic cadence against the rocky ground.
During their brief rests, Kitra would steal glances at Aragorn, admiring the way the sunlight glinted off his dark hair and the determined set of his jaw.
Kitra couldn't help but feel a fluttering in her heart whenever Aragorn's gaze met hers. She tried to focus on the task at hand, scanning the horizon for potential threats, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the ranger.
As they made camp that evening, huddled around a small fire, Kitra found herself seated next to Aragorn. Their shoulders brushed lightly, sending a shiver down her spine despite the warmth emanating from the flickering flames. She glanced over at him, admiring the way the firelight danced across his chiseled features.
While Sam busied himself with preparing a modest supper and the others set about unrolling their bedrolls, Kitra volunteered to scout the perimeter. Aragorn fell into step beside her, his presence both comforting and electrifying.
They walked in companionable silence for a time, their senses attuned to the rustling of leaves and the distant hooting of an owl. As they neared the edge of the clearing, Aragorn gently caught Kitra's elbow, pulling her out of view of the others.
Aragorn turned to her then, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You've been quiet today," he remarked, his voice low so as not to disturb the others.
Kitra shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just lost in thought, I suppose."
Aragorn reached up and tilted her chin up so she could look at him. Kitra met Aragorn's gaze, her heart skipping a beat as she lost herself in the depths of his eyes. In that moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them standing amidst the rustling trees and the soft chirping of crickets.
"What thoughts occupy your mind, my lady?" Aragorn asked softly, his thumb gently caressing her cheek.
Kitra leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before she spoke. "Thoughts of you and our happy moments in Rivendell."
Aragorn's eyes softened as he gazed down at Kitra, a tender smile gracing his lips. "I, too, find my thoughts drifting to our time together in Rivendell," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "The memories of those stolen moments bring me comfort."
Kitra felt her heart swell with emotion at his words. She reached up to cover his hand with her own, savoring the warmth of his touch against her skin. "I wish we could have had more time," she murmured, a wistful note creeping into her voice.
Aragorn's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over Kitra's ear. "Then let us make the most of the time we have now," he whispered, his deep voice sending a delightful shiver down her spine.
Before Kitra could respond, Aragorn's lips found hers in a tender, yet passionate kiss. She melted into his embrace, her fingers tangling in his dark hair as she pulled him closer. The world around them faded away, and for a few blissful moments, there was nothing but the two of them, lost in the sweetness of their stolen kiss.
When they finally parted, breathless and flushed, Kitra rested her forehead against Aragorn's, a contented sigh escaping her lips. "We are supposed to be scouting for dangers."
Aragorn chuckled softly, his breath warm against her skin. "I believe we can spare a few moments more," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her jaw.
Kitra couldn't help but agree, the allure of his presence far too tempting to resist. She tilted her head, capturing his lips once more in a slow, sensual kiss that set her very soul ablaze. Aragorn's strong arms encircled her waist, drawing her flush against his solid form as he deepened the kiss, pouring all of his longing and affection into the intimate gesture.
Lost in the heady sensation of Aragorn's kiss, Kitra barely registered the sound of approaching footsteps until a pointed cough shattered the spell that had enveloped them. Reluctantly breaking apart, they turned to find Legolas standing a short distance away, an amused expression playing across his fair features.
"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything," the elf prince remarked, a hint of mirth in his melodic voice. "But I thought I'd come let you know Sam has finished dinner."
"We will be right there." Aragorn said, grinning at his friend.
Kitra felt a blush creep up her neck as she and Aragorn followed Legolas back to the campsite, their fingers still intertwined. Though slightly embarrassed at being caught in such an intimate moment, she couldn't help but smile at the memory of Aragorn's tender kiss and the way it made her heart race.
As they approached the flickering firelight, the savory aroma of Sam's cooking wafted through the air, reminding Kitra of just how hungry she was after a long day of travel. The hobbits were already gathered around the fire, eagerly awaiting their portions of the hearty stew bubbling in the pot.
"Ah, there you are!" Gandalf exclaimed as Kitra and Aragorn took their seats beside him. "I was beginning to wonder if you two had gotten lost out there." His eyes twinkled with knowing a
Kitra felt her cheeks flush at Gandalf's teasing remark, but Aragorn merely chuckled, his hand finding her lower back, guiding her over to Sam. As Sam ladled out bowls of the steaming stew, Kitra couldn't help but marvel at the camaraderie that had already begun to form among the members of the fellowship, despite their differing races and backgrounds.
Merry and Pippin regaled them with tales of their mischievous exploits back in the Shire, their laughter infectious and lightening the mood. Alana sat on the other side of the fire talking with Boromir. Even Gimli cracked a smile, his gruff exterior softening as he listened to the hobbits' antics. Legolas sat with an air of serenity, his keen eyes occasionally scanning the perimeter, ever vigilant.
As the evening wore on and the fire began to dwindle, Kitra found herself leaning against Aragorn's sturdy frame, the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling her into a state of peaceful contentment. Around them, the hobbits had begun to settle into their bedrolls, their soft snores mingling with the gentle crackle of the dying embers.
Gandalf, his pipe still smoldering, rose to take the first watch, his ancient eyes glinting with wisdom and determination in the fading firelight. Legolas and Gimli followed suit, the elf's light footsteps hardly making a sound as he moved to scout the perimeter once more, while the dwarf's heavy boots crunched against the rocky ground.
Kitra reluctantly disentangled herself from Aragorn's embrace, knowing that they too needed to get some rest before their turn at watch. As she moved to stand, Aragorn gently caught her hand, his calloused fingers intertwining with her own.
"Stay with me tonight?" he asked softly, his eyes reflecting the dying embers of the fire.
Kitra's heart skipped a beat at his request, a warm flutter spreading through her chest. She glanced around the campsite, noting that the others were already settling in for the night. With a small smile, she nodded, allowing Aragorn to guide her to where their bedrolls lay side by side.
They settled in, Aragorn's strong arm draping protectively over Kitra's waist as she nestled against his chest. Kitra nestled closer to Aragorn, savoring the warmth and security of his embrace. His earthy scent, a mixture of leather, pine, and something uniquely him, enveloped her senses, making her feel at home despite the vast wilderness surrounding them. As she closed her eyes, she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her back, a soothing lullaby that gradually lulled her into a peaceful slumber.