Remember How I Love You (Sequel to 'Through Fire and Water')

A Moment Alone

If I was struggling to sleep before, I don’t stand a chance now. I’ve been tossing and turning for hours and I haven’t even come close to sleep. All I can think about is how painfully empty the bed is without Ana and about all the awful things that could have happened to her. If something happened that meant she never came home I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t go on without her, let alone raise 2 children without her.

The sounds of my home press in on my ears. All the normally quiet sounds seem to boom like explosions in the still blackness. I can’t stay here. Lying in the dark like this allows my brain to wander, allows me to think. Which is always a bad thing.

Establishing that lying here trying to sleep is bad for my sanity, I slip out of bed. Pulling on my dressing gown and padding barefoot through to the living room. The fire is now just a pile of glowing embers and the room is lit entirely by moonlight which seeps in through the windows, giving the room a cold, empty feel. A shiver goes down my spine as I look at the entirely motionless centre of my home. I quickly make my way over to the fireplace and grab a log, some kindling and the poker, piling the kindling on the embers and jabbing at them. Tiny flames curl upwards and lick at the edges of the dry sticks which stubbornly refuse to light. I blow gently on it, feeding the fire and encouraging it to grow. After a moment the flames flare and catch on the brittle, dry kindling. I put the log on top of the now smoking sticks and lean back as the flames slowly grow. Once I’m satisfied that the fire will stay I move up onto the nearby armchair, tucking my knees up and staring at the whirling, dancing flames, searching for shapes.

After a few minutes my ears pick up on a new sound, a soft whimpering. After establishing that it is definitely not me, I know it’s one of the kids and a lump forms in my throat. It only takes a moment to track the source of the noise to Estel’s room. The door doesn’t even creak as I gently push it open, peering into the darkness at the small form in the bed, tossing around and emitting quiet whimpers. I’m at her bedside in an instant. She’s asleep still and when I put my hand on her forehead I can tell that she is a lot hotter than usual. Now I’m worried.

I scoop Estel up in my arms and carefully carry her through to the living room, curling up with her in the armchair by the now crackling fire. She doesn’t wake at all, but when once she’s in my arms the whimpering quietens and gradually stops as she seems to settle down in her sleep. I lean my head back onto the chair and close my eyes, listening to the comforting crackling of the fire.

Aragorn’s P.O.V.

It’s late and I should probably go to bed. But I’m alone in the Royal apartment, finally alone, and I am loath to give up my solitude just yet. Being king means practically wherever I go there are people who want to talk to me about something or guards who want to make sure I don’t get murdered, a task I am perfectly capable of accomplishing on my own. Nighttime is the only time I get to relax. Arwen and I spent some time together but she’s gone to bed now. I think she sensed I needed to be alone and quiet for a while.