Middle Earth One-Shots (Characters X Reader) (LOTR/TH)

18. Hush Now [Aragorn X Reader]

A.N: So I cut the request a little short as it was pretty long but I think I still fullfilled what was asked for the most part. Additionally, read the warnings before reading. Also, if you ever need help or are in a rough spot, please reach out.

Request: Anon — Would you be comfortable writing a comfort fic with Aragorn and reader? (obviously don't write this if you're not in the mental capacity to do so!!! Your health and happiness come first and foremost.) Reader is, in general, recovering from anorexia, alcoholism, suicidal ideation, self-injury, and PTSD. Maybe she's in the thick of all this and Aragorn starts picking up on the fact she's not eating, she's cutting, and that she's planning to kill herself? Idk. I'm just in a rough spot and could use some comfort fic if you've got the time/energy/etc.

Pairing: Aragon X Reader

Summary: Reader is struggling a lot and Aragorn notices.

Word Count: 990

Warnings: suicidal ideation, self-harm, eating disorder, ptsd, fluff

...............

HUSH NOW

.....read the warnings before reading.....

Being a ranger of middle earth meant that you had clearly seen some shit. There is no other word for it—just: shit. And, quite frankly, (Y/N) would be lying if she said that it didn't affect her. Every time she closed her eyes, the horrified chill of what she had witnessed and been through engulfed her—taking over her life one aspect at a time. It consumed her every being—every second, every minute, every hour. Every face she couldn't save, every soul she couldn't rescue, every being she could not forget—it haunted her.

If they didn't get to live, why should should she?

Why should she survive when they didn't?

It plagued her.

That is why she joined the quest to destroy the ring. Not for the honor or fame; no, not for those frivolous glories—for death. A mission that was most likely going to result in every members' demise would be an easy way to go, would it not? Not one would question her or label her a coward. It was just....simple.

Well, so she thought.

Being surrounded by nine men, four of which who were very observing, made her addictions....difficult.

(Y/N) would decline some meals and dump others when she thought no one was looking. She would take large swigs of alcohol from her flask when she thought they were otherwise occupied. She would sneak away from the group and draw her blade across her skin when she thought no one was near. (Y/N) let herself dive into the addicting clouded release of it all...and she didn't care.

Of course, her self-destructive behavior did not escape everyone's attention. A pair of grey eyes lingered on her often—studying, analyzing, and examining.

Aragorn knew the signs all to well. The shifting looks, the grimly set jaw, and the lifeless eyes—all too familiar. The dunedain had come across many soldiers who could not escape the dark corners of their minds. Therefore, when dusk had settled into the sky and the female Ranger had taken off and had not returned for some time, Aragorn followed.

He held a makeshift torch in his hand as he made his way through the trees and brush. Winding and twisting he went, until the sight of a figure slumped against the trunk of a tree caught his gaze.

"(Y/N)?" He questioned softly.

No answer.

Aragorn frowned as he took another step towards her, lifting the torch.

As the light stretched forward, his lips parted and brows furrowed, for what was revealed to him made the thudding in his chest stop.

(Y/N)'s fingers played with a blade—a bloody blade. She let the metal dance upon her and reflect where the harsh crimson had come from. Long lacerations clung to her wrists and warm liquid ran down her arm. Red tears they were—angry and full of rage and sadness. This stream was mirrored on her face too, but with salty clear water instead.

The sight caused a shock to run through Aragorn's form, halting any response that could have come from him. Yet that frozen state soon faded and he rushed towards her immediately. He dropped the torch beside himself as he knelt next to her, grasping her arms. He spoke quickly as he ripped fabric from his tunic and began to bind the wounds, "(Y/N), why did you not tell me it was this bad?"

The young woman rolled her eyes and yanked her wrists from him. "It's nothing, Strider."

The man shook his head and reached for her arms once again, "This is not nothing, (Y/N)." He paused, "I have smelled the alcohol upon your breath. I have heard the soft whimpers when you sleep. I have seen the refusal of food from your lips."

The female Ranger closed her eyes and turned her head away from the man's words.

"(Y/N)," he whispered. "Look at me."

When she made no move to do so, Aragorn reached forward and grasped her face gently in his hand. He turned her gaze towards him and locked his stormy eyes upon hers.

"I know what it is like to be haunted by those memories. But this—this is not a solution. Why didn't you tell me it was this painful?"

She stood and began to pace, contemplating a way to respond to his question. When words could be formed upon her lips, she spoke frantically, "Because—because I couldn't. Okay I just....."

(Y/N) let her sentence drift into the cold air as she shook her head and blinked back more tears.

Aragorn closed his eyes for a moment as realization struck him, "Because you came on this quest to die."

The woman turned away from him, clearly trying to hide her expression for she did not wish for him to see her so; but the uncrowned king did not need his eyes to hear her suck in a shaky breath, telling him that he had been right.

Aragorn placed a hand upon her shoulder and gently twisted her body so she was facing him once again. He gazed at her with soft eyes and she seemed to let her strong façade crumple.

A cracked voice came from her lips, "I see them all—the ones I couldn't save. This...this is the only way to numb it—to ward them from my mind. I...I...just...."

Aragorn forcefully pulled her quivering form against his own and enthralled her cold heart with his warm embrace. Her fingers desperately clutched onto his sleeves as she buried her head into his chest. Loud sobs escaped her throat and she could not hold back the pain any longer. Yet the male Ranger did not mind; he let her absorb the comfort she craved.

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head before speaking in a quiet whisper, "Hush now. I've got you."

......