Fic: ‘In the depths of night.’
Title: In the depths of night.
Fandom: Lord of the Rings (movies).
Rating: (G)
Time Period: During events in Return of the King.
Summary: He cannot sleep.
Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).
I couldn’t imagine Aragorn sleeping too well after seeing the vision of Arwen in the palantír.
And it would take time for the troops to gather everything together to ride, I feel.
Disclaimer
All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of JRR Tolkien, the Tolkien Estate and the Tolkien Trust & Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh & Philippa Boyens (their interpretations); I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by them.
_______________________
So pale she looks, dark hair an unformed shadow against the pallid skin. Crimson and blue so dark it reminds him of the deep waters of the sea. So naked she appears without the Evenstar, so unearthly beautiful in death.
So mortal.
He doesn’t remember when he last slept; all that fills his nostrils, even away from the Houses of Healing, is the sweet scent of athelas. Standing, he walks toward the window looking to the East. There are no stars; the Shadow its hand stretches toward Minas Tirith but even if they were to be seen, they would bring no comfort.
“She has gone West,” he whispers. “Beyond the reach of Mordor.”
And death. He does not say this aloud; it would bring his waking nightmare too close again. Instead, he turns from the window and back toward the bed; the chair by the door catches his eye and he sits, waiting for the dawn and respite from the vision of his beloved sent him by the Enemy that the day would bring.
“She has gone West,” he repeats, “with her Kin.”
Fandom: Lord of the Rings (movies).
Rating: (G)
Time Period: During events in Return of the King.
Summary: He cannot sleep.
Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).
I couldn’t imagine Aragorn sleeping too well after seeing the vision of Arwen in the palantír.
And it would take time for the troops to gather everything together to ride, I feel.
Disclaimer
All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of JRR Tolkien, the Tolkien Estate and the Tolkien Trust & Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh & Philippa Boyens (their interpretations); I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by them.
_______________________
So pale she looks, dark hair an unformed shadow against the pallid skin. Crimson and blue so dark it reminds him of the deep waters of the sea. So naked she appears without the Evenstar, so unearthly beautiful in death.
So mortal.
He doesn’t remember when he last slept; all that fills his nostrils, even away from the Houses of Healing, is the sweet scent of athelas. Standing, he walks toward the window looking to the East. There are no stars; the Shadow its hand stretches toward Minas Tirith but even if they were to be seen, they would bring no comfort.
“She has gone West,” he whispers. “Beyond the reach of Mordor.”
And death. He does not say this aloud; it would bring his waking nightmare too close again. Instead, he turns from the window and back toward the bed; the chair by the door catches his eye and he sits, waiting for the dawn and respite from the vision of his beloved sent him by the Enemy that the day would bring.
“She has gone West,” he repeats, “with her Kin.”