“More ale!” came the cry from further along the table. “More wine!” Aragorn smiled as he gestured to a servant.

“We don’t really care what it is, beer, ale, wine, ” came a voice in his ear. He turned. It was the thin face of Elladan, son of Elrond grinning at him mischievously, “Just something to get Eomer good and bloody drunk so we don’t have to deal with him tomorrow morning!” Aragorn laughed good-naturedly as he requested the capital’s strongest brew of ale. Better to get the King of Rohan good and drunk than to only go halfway. He knew of the duel that Eomer had challenged the twins to after their little prank last week. Gracious, he thought to himself. They were nearly 5,000 and still acted like they were not yet fifteen.

“Yes, my friend, you won’t have to deal with his fighting skills, just his massive headache and biting temper!” Aragorn chuckled.
He looked to his left, at the radiant female sitting next to him. This was their night, to celebrate three long happy years of marriage. She smiled at him, as If to say “You don’t know half of what they did as boys,” before rising from her chair and moving to talk to some of Gondor’s dignitaries.

The rest of the evening progressed slowly, but gracefully. It was nearly one in the morning before the king got to dance with his queen. They slowly glided across the floor, looks of happiness shining from their faces. They were like a picture from the old tales, her perfect immortal beauty, almost unreal, against his scruffy yet handsome looks. She broke away for a short second to make a remark to Prince Legolas, just arrived from Mirkwood a day ago. He smiled.

Aragorn saw it. A tiny flicker of something across her face.. almost fear, but yet surprise as well. With a slight smile..

Then she fell. Her thin body gracefully arched toward the floor, turning slightly. He was there to catch her before she hit. He picked her up, trying to laugh. “That’s enough strong wine for you tonight, my dear elf-princess queen.” A reassuring squeeze on his shoulder from Legolas. Aragorn attempted to lie to himself and his friend that this really was the reason why his beloved Evenstar had just weakly fainted. He tried to smile, without success.

“I would accompany you to your rooms to make sure all is well, but I have other matters to attend to. My horse injured a leg. I shall see you in the morning, Elessar.” With that, Legolas turned to bid his wife goodnight. She smiled, grazing his cheek with her thumb before placing a searing kiss on his lips.

Aragorn watched this exchange, already across the half-deserted room. Asta.. they’d been married for more than 500 years now, yet still so full of love for each other.. and they’d have the rest of their lives together. With a slight tint of sadness, Aragorn looked down at the still sleeping Arwen Undomiel. Even unconscious, she still gleamed with radiant beauty. He sighed, and turned toward their rooms.

It wasn’t long before he reached their hall. He turned into their chambers, and laid Arwen on their large bed. Slipping her out of her elegant gown, he pulled her nightdress over her head and tucked the light summer sheets around her, before climbing in himself. He laid an arm around her slim form before pressing a kiss and a blessing to her shoulder, drifting off into blessed sleep.

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This was written very spontaneously, shortly after my depressing muse returned from it’s EXTREMELY extended vacation.

Enjoy, and review!

~Shae