Misc. One Shots and Short Stories

Lord of the Rings - Aragorn

I was silent as I stepped into the room the innkeeper so graciously provided to us at the last minute, the four hobbits fast asleep in the bed. "You scare them, Strider," I drawled quietly, having done my rounds of Bree, sure that, at least for now, we were safe. "You know I hate when you call me that," he grumbled. "They are not scared enough; it was foolish to risk that much attention," he sighed darkly, turning to face me, a soft smile adorning his lips even with his words. I could have gotten lost in his gaze, the firelight bouncing off his tanned skin, dangerously highlighting his features. Shaking my head, I glared at the male. "They will be soon enough; there is no use adding to it," I scolded gently, stepping to the window, half expecting to see the nine hidden among the fog when I looked out. "You should not coddle them, my love," he murmured, joining me at the window. "They are gentle creatures, darling; they are not meant for the dangers they will face. A little compassion is not coddling," I sighed, leaning into him, relishing the arms that rarely held me. "Kaiva, they must learn the dangers of the world; you know what they carry," he whispered, lips brushing my ear as he spoke. "And they will, but they do not need to learn them from us," I murmured, looking up at him; we were meant to protect them. "No, I suppose not," he conceded, gently petting my cheek, our eyes locked in a loving embrace as the dark night turned into a gloomy morning. Once the hobbits were roused and ready, we set out on our journey, the hobbits meandering between Aragorn and me. I could tell the male was growing annoyed; the man was not accustomed to the childlike manner and naivety of the hobbits. It would be a test of his patience, unlike anything either of us had dealt with before. As soon as we had stopped for the evening, the man was wandering off. "These are for you," I sighed, unpacking four small swords. "Keep them close," I advised, passing them out to the hobbits. "Stay quiet, and stay hidden. We must not alarm any creatures of our whereabouts," I murmured, pushing to my feet. "I must go monitor the woods; I will return," I assured before climbing down and heading into the treeline surrounding us.  

I heard the screech of the wraiths echo around me, running as fast as my feet would go back up to the hobbits. My sword clashed with one of the Nazgul before it could reach Merry; Aragorn appeared on the other side and fought off two others. Only a few minutes before the screeches ceased, and the danger dispersed. "Strider!" Sam's voice shouted, my head snapping to see Frodo lying on the ground clutching his chest. "He's been stabbed with a Morgul blade," Aragorn muttered, throwing the smoking blade back to the ground. "We must move quickly; he needs Elvish medicine," the ranger ordered, picking the hobbit up and moving to leave the outcropping of rock we thought would be a haven for the night. "We're still six days away from Rivendell; he'll never make it," Sam called as the other three hobbits rushed to keep up with us. "Athelas may slow the poison down," I murmured to my male counterpart as we stopped to let the hobbits catch their breath. "Sam! Do you know Athelas?" he questioned the hobbit. "Athelas?" was parrotted back. "Kingsfoil," I added, knowing it was the more common name for the herb. "Yes, it's a weed." Sam nodded. "It should slow down the poison; look for it, but stay close," Aragorn ordered, passing the hobbit a torch, the small being setting off into the underbrush with a purpose. "Stay close," Aragorn repeated to me before we parted in search of a temporary help to the wounded halfling.

I never let Aragorn too far from sight; if this hobbit was carrying what we thought he was, our lives had just changed for the worse, and I would not risk the man's safety. "What is this? A ranger caught off guard," a soft voice sounded; the voice was familiar, making my blood run cold; turning back to where Aragorn had been to see the elven princess with her sword at his throat. "I wouldn't be so certain," I drawled, getting up to my feet, my arrow trained on the she-elf before I had even finished speaking. "Kaiva, I should have known you were near." she sighed, turning to face me, my bow dropping back to my side. "Yes, you should have." I agreed, turning to head back for the injured hobbit, a wad of the weed in my hand. Chewing on the weed, I pressed it into the wound, knowing it wouldn't save him, but it would stall his passing. "He is fading fast; if we do not get him to my father, he will have no hope," Arwen stated, passing her hand over Frodo's face. "I will take him," I offered, knowing she was right, and if we did not move quickly, we would lose the young hobbit. "If I can get to the river, I will have the power of my people," Arwen denied as Aragorn lifted Frodo onto her horse. "Kaiva is a faster rider and knows the powers of your people just as well," he grumbled lowly, trying to hand me the reigns to the horse from around the elf. I didn't want to leave them alone, but he was right, and Frodo didn't have enough time for me to argue that I didn't trust the princess with the male. "I'll send horses for you," I agreed, mounting the horse behind the injured hobbit and taking off toward Rivendell without looking back. I could hear the pounding of the hooves around me and the screeching of the wraiths bouncing around the forest. At one point, I was certain I felt the metal fingers drag through my hair, but with a few encouraging words to the horse beneath me, we pulled away. "Stay with me, Frodo. We're almost there," I whispered to the hobbit, spurring the horse on faster, nearly sighing in relief as we splashed into the river's water. 

Now that I was safely in the elven kingdom, the wraiths skidded to a stop on the other side of the river, angry screeches following as I spurred my horse on. I had no time to waste; the hobbit was fading fast. I prayed that the elves would spare the young creature as I skidded to a stop in the courtyard. "He hasn't much time," I informed as I slid Frodo from the horse and passed him into the waiting arms of Lord Elrond. "I will do what I can, Ildris; send horses for Arwen and the rest of our incoming guests," the man ordered as he disappeared into his halls, and I was left to wait; I had half a mind to ride back for my husband and the hobbits, but the horse was exhausted, and before I could ask anyone to borrow one, they were already leaving. "Kaiva, my child. What happened?" Gandalf sounded before the old wizard appeared. "We were attacked by the wraiths. Frodo was stabbed with a Morgul blade; Lord Elrond is with him now," I informed. "Where were you? They said you meant to meet in Bree?" I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest, hoping the wizard had a good explanation. "Ah yes, an unfortunate tale must I tell," he sighed, gesturing for us to sit on the bench near us. "I went to seek knowledge from Saruman and found naught but treachery," he murmured, puffing a ring of smoke out before us. "The black speech has infiltrated the white wizard's mind, and I fear we are now caught between Mordor and Isengard," he whispered, the words making my blood run cold. "Ah, but fret not. Things will work out as they should." he nodded suddenly cheerful, the sudden shift from the man not uncommon. "I should go seek Lord Elrond and offer my assistance," he sighed, pushing up to his feet and leaving me alone once more. Fret not; it was impossible not to fret over the impending doom before us. I had been alive many years and had not yet felt the dread and despair that was now looming. We had heard tales of the shadows over Mordor growing and the rise of Sauron beginning, but with the attack of the Nazgul and the betrayal of Saruman, it seemed the end was much closer than we had known.  

"Aragorn," I sighed, getting to my feet and meeting the man halfway as he trotted into the courtyard. "You made it?" he asked, sliding from the horse, gently brushing my loose hair out of my face. "Lord Elrond is with him now; Gandalf has made it as well," I nodded. "Gandalf, what happened? Why was he not in Bree?" he asked, pulling me away from the elves nearing to handle the horses and the hobbits. "It is Saruman," I whispered. "Gandalf sought him for aid and learned that he has let the black speech into his mind." I continued as we wandered the kingdom towards the living quarters to clean up. "How is it the one we thought powerful enough to save us may well be our downfall," the man sighed heavily, opening the door to our room and allowing me to enter. "We cannot lose faith, my love," I sighed, turning and pressing a hand to his cheek. "I have not lost faith, darling. As long as you are by my side, I have all the faith in the world," he smirked. "Now let's get cleaned up, shall we?" he added, gesturing towards the clean clothes on the bed and the water basins. "Perhaps, before we dress," I faded off, smiling at the man as he turned to me with an arched brow. "Before we dress?" he questioned, tossing his leathers and tunic aside and leaving his torso bare. "I believe I am still your wife." I shrugged, dropping my own tunic to the floor and pushing my trousers down to join them. "That you are," he growled, lunging forward and pulling me into his arms, pressing our lips together in a rough kiss. "Show me," I taunted, squealing as I was suddenly dumped onto the bed. "Black speech is nothing when I have a demoness in my bed," he grumbled, words ceasing as he let all his anger, worry, and adrenaline out on my body.