His Queen

Chapter 6 - Kitra

With those words echoing in her mind, Kitra allowed her eyes to drift shut, exhaustion finally claiming her. Sleep came quickly, but it was far from restful. Dark dreams plagued her, visions of black riders and burning red eyes, of Frodo crying out in pain as the Ring consumed him. She tossed and turned, mumbling incoherently as the nightmares took hold.

Suddenly, a gentle hand on her shoulder pulled her from the depths of her troubled slumber. Kitra's eyes flew open, her heart pounding as she tried to orient herself. Aragorn's concerned face swam into view, his features softened by the flickering firelight.

"Shh, it's alright," he soothed, his thumb rubbing circles on her shoulder. "You were dreaming."

Kitra let out a shaky breath, the last vestiges of the nightmare fading away as she focused on the solid warmth of Aragorn's touch. "I'm sorry," she whispered, feeling foolish for causing him worry. "Did I wake the others?"

Aragorn shook his head. "They sleep soundly. It's a skill hobbits seem to have mastered," he added with a wry smile.

Kitra returned the smile weakly, pushing herself up into a sitting position. A quick glance out the window showed the sky beginning to lighten, the first hints of dawn creeping over the horizon. "Is it time to leave already?"

"Just about," Aragorn confirmed. "We'll let them rest a bit longer while we ready the horses and supplies."

Kitra nodded, grateful for the chance to collect herself before facing the others. She didn't want them to see how shaken she was by the dark visions that had plagued her dreams. With a deep breath, she pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the lingering aches in her muscles from sleeping on the hard floor.

Aragorn stood with her, his hand hovering near her elbow as if ready to steady her should she falter. The small gesture warmed Kitra's heart, a reminder of the unwavering support he had always shown her, even in their younger days.

Together, they made their way downstairs, careful not to disturb the peaceful slumber of the hobbits and Alana. The inn was still and quiet, the only sound the soft creaking of the wooden stairs beneath their feet. Butterbur was nowhere to be seen, likely catching a few precious hours of sleep before the new day began in earnest.

Outside, the crisp morning air filled Kitra's lungs, chasing away the last cobwebs of her troubled dreams. She tilted her face up to the pale pink sky, letting the gentle breeze caress her skin and tangle in her hair. For a moment, she could almost forget the perilous road that lay ahead, the heavy burden they had undertaken.

But reality crashed back in as Aragorn led the way to the stables, where their horses and packs awaited them. They worked quickly and efficiently, saddling a pony that they had traded for the two stallions that Kitra and Alana had come into town on. They securing their meager supplies to the saddle bags that the stable hand had given to them. There was no time for idle chatter, but the silence between them was comfortable, born of long familiarity and unspoken understanding.

As the sun began its slow climb into the sky, painting the world in soft golden hues, they led the pony around to the front of the inn. Alana emerged first, her sharp eyes taking in the readied pony and the determined set of Kitra and Aragorn's shoulders. She gave a brisk nod of approval before ducking back inside to rouse the hobbits.

One by one, Frodo and his companions stumbled out into the early morning light, yawning and rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Kitra's heart clenched at the sight of them, so small and vulnerable in the face of the great danger that pursued them. She vowed silently to do everything in her power to protect them, to see this quest through to its end no matter the cost.

With the hobbits finally awake and ready, Kitra helped them load their few belongings onto the sturdy pony. Sam, ever the practical one, fussed over the distribution of weight, insisting that they not overburden the poor beast. Kitra hid a smile at his mothering, finding it endearing despite the seriousness of their situation.