Restless

Chapter 3

"Day 25”

"I do believe my count ended higher than yours, Legolas." Gimli argued, holding tightly to his stallion's reins. He would never be quite comfortable atop the four legged creatures but, for this journey, he had been required to get used to it, or stay behind.

Aragorn rolled his eyes and steered Roheryn closer to Arwen, who simply chuckled and gazed down the path ahead.

"I beg to differ," Legolas shot back, eyes darting around the landscape as they spoke. "You clearly mis-counted the number of kills that evening. Perhaps it was the blow to the head that you received.”

Gimli huffed and shot back a comment Aragorn did not completely hear. Arwen had taken his hand and settled it atop her thigh as the horses walked along the trail. That simple gesture had served to thoroughly distract him. “As much as I hate to remove your hand, love, I believe we should trot along a bit faster, perhaps the motion will jar them from their current feud.”

“Unlikely, but lets make the attempt,” Arwen removed her hand and gripped the reins tightly. As Roheryn trotted ahead of her, she gave Asfaloth’s sides a bit of a squeeze, urging him alongside her husband.

When the guard and the rest of the entourage noticed the change in pace, they matched it, keeping close to the king and his so so as to protect them should trouble fall into the path.

Aragorn’s plan worked for a time, and he quietly watched Arwen as they rode, entranced by her simple beauty. Her hair blew around her face as the breeze tugged strands of the long, dark mane from its braid.

When the sun began to set, the caravan stopped at the base of the mountain. Aragorn chose a site greatly surrounded by trees, their leaves full and green in the midst of the summer bloom. This would serve to protect and insulate the caravan as the temperature dropped.

Legolas scouted ahead, leaping off his horse before Gimli had the chance to follow the much more limber elf.

Aragorn could see that Legolas enjoyed loosing the Dwarf in the forest. His speed and agility, not to mention his familiarity with the trees, gave him much more of an advantage than the Dwarf would ever admit. Gimli muttered beneath his breath and followed the direction he 'thought' Legolas had gone.

The stable boys rushed to prepare a proper brushing for the horses, tending first to Roheryn and Asfaloth as the King stepped into the forest for a few moments of solitude.

Royal Guardsmen were never far behind and Aragorn sighed as he settled into the ground at the base of a large oak. Its roots delved deep into the earth, surrounding him as he sat between the dark wood. He leaned his back against the large trunk and closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the day's journey roll off his sdersders.

Once Arwen finished speaking with her attendant, she joined her husband. The Guardsmen took a few steps away from the couple, giving them what privacy they felt safe enough to permit.

"The journey is progressing much faster than I anticipated," Aragorn admitted, holding up his arms in an invitation Arwen could not refuse.

She sat comfortably on his lap and leaned deeply into his tight embrace. She closed her eyes and listened, the deep baritone of his voice reverberating through her back as he spoke. "But it does not satiate your restless blood."

He smoothed her hair and pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead. "We are never alone here. In ways it is worse than the City." Leaves rustled above them and Aragorn took a deep, relaxing breath. "But in many it is better. It is truly good to be out in the wild again, regardless of who trails on my heels."

Arwen nodded and pressed a kiss to his whiskered jaw. She laced her fingers through where his hands were clasped together at her waist and rubbed her thumbs slowly along his skin.

Silence fell as he bent over and pressed a slow kiss to the shell of her ear. A smile spread slowly across his face as he felt the tremor race down her spine at the simple touch. Encouraged by her reaction, he slowly rubbed his lips along the length of the lobe, stopping at certain points to press a short kiss to the sensitive skin. When he reached the pointed tip, his lips closed over the shell and she whimpered, sinking even deeper into his embrace.

"Perhaps the woods are not the best place for you to be exploring the more sensitive portions of my body," she whispered, abruptly turning so as to face him. When she set her hands on his upper thighs for balance, he quickly swallowed a muffled groan. But she smiled knowingly at him, eyes sparkling even in the rapidly approaching darkness.

"I believe it is time for bed, my Lady," Aragorn breathed hotly.

She took note of the drop in his voice and the crackle in the air now alive with the sparks of passion. "Yes, I do believe I agree." Arwen said as she stood. "They should have the pavilion set up by now." She reached down and held out her hand to her husband, who took it and pulled himself to his feet. Before turning away, he executed a most spectacular bow over her hand and pressed a lingering kiss to the soft skin.

When they returned, their pavilion was set up, food was cooking over the fire and guards had formed a parameter around the camp. Arwen immediately disappeared inside, but not before she tossed a look toward her husband that warned him not to be long. Arwen's attendant, seeing her enter the pavilion without her husband, moved to follow her charge.

Aragorn noticed this and held out his hand to prevent the young woman from entering. "Arwen is well. The evening is your own." He smiled down at the girl and she nodded and bowed to her liege before moving back to her own small bedroll.

A squire and guardsman approached Aragorn and proceeded to ask him a few questions about the company and the planned path for tomorrow. Aragorn answered as politely as he was able but, the recently kindled desire for his wife's touch, long held in check on this journey, was slowly beginning to boil his blood. The longer he was made to wait, the more impatient he became. Finally he just dismissed the two and rubbed at his eyes muttering something about exhaustion.

Just as he reached for the pavilion's flap, a rather exasperated Chamberlain interrupted his escape.

"What is it?" Aragorn asked calmly. He could feel the edges of his temper begin to fray, but he smiled politely.

The Chamberlain shot an annoyed glance at a bickering Gimli and Legolas, who had recently returned from securing the perimeter of the camp. "Do they ever stop?"

Aragorn chuckled, long and loud. It had been a standing bet between himself and his wife how long the Chamberlain would last before mentioning Gimli and Legolas' strange friendship. He mentally ticked off the days and groaned inwardly. Arwen won.

"It used to be worse." He admitted and they listened to the next few exchanges, unsure as to whom to declare the winner for the evening.

"It would be a lovely gift if we could be spared the sound of your attempt to pull a howling boar from your nasal passages this evening," Legolas settled onto his blanket and closed his eyes.

Gimli looked at Legolas horrified. Before he could frame an answer, Legolas continued.

"If you are incapable of preventing such an occurrence, could you please sleep at the head of the camp so as to scare away any large animals that may consider using us as its evening meal." Legolas said calmly, eyes still closed, senses outstretched to feel for any threat, veiled or evident.

"I don't know why I tolerate your treatment of me!" Gimli scooped up his blankets and scowled at Legolas. "Aragorn should send you up into one of those trees you love so much to spare us your unneeded boasts about elves and how you are so far above we meortaortal creatures. Forget not, Legolas, it is we 'mortals' who saved your collective hides during the War of the Ring."

"They used to mean every rude word they said to one another." Aragorn grinned at the irritated Chamberlain.

"They don't mean such words now?" The Chamberlain shot an exasperated look at the unlikely friends, "You could have fooled me."

Gimli muttered a few choice words in the tongue of the Dwarves as he passed the Chamberlain and the King, and Aragorn chuckled. The Chamberlain glanced at his King with a slightly confused look.

"The comment was rude, and rather untranslatable in any language."

The Chamberlain rolled his eyes and shook his head. He executed a perfect bow and added," Are you in need of anything else this eve?"

Aragorn smiled, "Nothing at all."

The man nodded. "Your meal will be delivered soon."

"No rush," Aragorn smiled at the Chamberlain and quickly disappeared behind pavipavilion's curtain before anyone else could stop him.

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Aragorn navigated his way around the silk hanging from the ceiling and stopped suddenly when he stepped into the makeshift bed chamber.

Arwen sat atop the furs, long hair flowing down her back as she attempted to comb out the knots from the day's travel.

Aragorn knelt beside her and covered her hand with his own. "Let me."

Wordlessly, she released the comb and turned her back to her husband. As he began to slowly brush her hair, she closed her eyes and sighed. His hands worked gently, pulling and smoothing the long, dark strands. Tremors raced down her spine when he leaned over her shoulder and unashamedly sucked the tip of her ear into his mouth. The comb fell forgotten to the furs as Aragorn trailed tack ack of his hand down the length of her neck. With the other, he delved into the smooth locks, and pulled her head to the side, baring even further the smooth, creamy skin.

"It has been far too long," Aragorn whispered against her neck. He nuzzled the skin with a whiskered chin as his hands slid around her waist.

"Yes," she melted into his embrace as his hands began to unfasten the intricate clasps that held the dress firmly secured to her body. Before he had finished with the first, there was a rustling inside the pavilion. They heard a small voice call to them from the other side of the hanging silk.

Aragorn tore his fingers away from the fastenings and cursed beneath his breath. Arwen chuckled and nudged him with an elbow to the side.

"Meal, my Lord," the servant called shyly.

Aragorn raised a curious eyebrow and waited for Arwen to decide what kind of hunger was more important. The only answer came in the form of her own fingers quickly unfastening the clasps on her dress. When the material slid down her shoulders, Aragorn called to the servant, "Leave it, please." To Arwen, much lower, he said. "We're not hungry."

"Only for one another," she whispered, cautious of the ears that could still be waiting on the other side of the cloth door.

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Aragorn leaned back, exhausted, drawing Arwen into his arms. She rested her cheek against the damp skin of his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his whiskered chin.

The rumbling outside the pavilion continued and Aragorn considered asking Gimli to move. But, he reconsidered, realizing that the Dwarf's snoring was probably the only thing that prevented the entire camp from becoming aware of what kind of 'rest' their king and queen were getting.

"Ah," Aragorn breathed. His muscles ached, his body was entirely satiated and he was finding it difficult to remain conscious.

Arwen could feel his fatigue and cupped his cheek in her hand. "Sleep, love. You will need rest for tomorrow."

Aragorn looked down his nose at her upturned eyes then sighed heavily. "There are times when I envy the speed in which elves recover."

Arwen chuckled and settled herself tightly against his side. "Sleep now." She flattened one hand against his bare chest. She could feel the strong and steady beat of his heart reverberate in her ears and she, too, closed her eyes.

Unfortunately, the close proximity to Gimli's snoring, caused the couple to remain awake, and mostly sated, for the entire night.