Restless

Chapter 4

"Day 45"

Arwen shot her husband a playful smile as she moved to mount Roheryn. The stable hand, used to releasing the reins to the King every morning, stared at her in awe.

“I will ride with Aragorn for the first part of the morning,” she told him and he moved to help her into the saddle. She accepted his help with a small smile. Please ready Asfaloth so I may move to him when my husband tires of me pushing him out of his saddle."

“Never,” Aragorn walked around a few of the saddled and waiting horses and smiled up at his wife and then down at the stable boy. “You will get no complaint from me.” He winked at the boy and then mounted his stallion behind Arwen.

As he settled behind her, she shifted her hips and leaned back against his chest. When his arms came down around her shoulders to grasp the reins, she arched her neck and looked into his eyes. “You look well this morning.” She whispered against his cheek.

“As do you, regardless of such little sleep." He flattened a hand against her stomach while the other held tight to the reins.

"Tonight, perhaps Gimli will sleep in a tree." Arwen offered with an amused smile.

"Love, please don’t give me any ideas." Aragorn groaned and whirled Roheryn toward the head of the caravan. "Ever since Legolas refused to sleep next to him, he has made his bed far too close to us for my taste."

Legolas brought Arod around to stand beside the King and Queen. There was something different about the Prince of Mirkwood this morning, and it wasn't lack of sleep. His eyes flickered with a secret knowledge and Aragorn stifled a groan of realization.

While Arwen leaned down to speak with a servant, Aragorn narrowed his eyes at his elven friend.

"Gimli's snoring does not drown every sound from the forest." The elven prince muttered quietly, careful that Arwen didn't overhear.

Aragorn winced and squeezed his eyes shut at the implication of Legolas' words. Aragorn began to redden with embarrassment but not before he noticed the deep flush tint his friend's ears.

Aragorn took a deep breath and Legolas offered his friend a small smile. He leaned toward Aragorn to be sure no one could hear his next words. "Worry not, I slept in the river."

Aragorn blinked as Legolas pulled Arod around and trotted toward the back of the company. He fought another flush of embarrassment mixed with amusement at the thought of Legolas needing to find comfort in a cold river solely because he could hear a simple passionate encounter.

He resolved to speak more of this with Legolas when Arwen was not within earshot.

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When thed std stopped for the evening, and night fell over the camp, Aragorn crept out of the pavilion like a thief, stalking toward the tall trees for a bit of solitude. He slipped through the watch of the royal guards and made for the dense forest. What he didn’t notice was the lithe form of a very limber elf following not far behind.

Aragorn found a large, tall tree and climbed easily into it, relieved to see that he still remembered his basic Ranger training. He breathed deeply of the bark, of the freshness of the air and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Legolas sat above him, staring down into his face. Aragorn sighed.

“Can I get no peace?”

“I will not let you alone in the forest, regardless of how safe these woods appear to have become.” Came the soft reply. A blond head glanced back toward the direction in which they had just come and smiled. “No one followed us.”

Aragorn nodded and fell into a thoughtful silence. “I was too harsh, I’m sorry.”

“It is understood,” Legolas said. “This has been a long trip, and we have not yet reached our destination. That stuffy Chamberlain is enough to grate on even the most patient man’s nerves.”

Aragorn chuckled. “He says the same thing about your banter with Gimli. I do believe you are driving the poor man slowly insane.”

A pale eyebrow raised in amusement. “And you complain?”

“Not at all, my friend.” Aragorn admitted with a wry smile. “Not at all.”

The two fell silent as they heard the crashing of footsteps below. “Find him!” The Chamberlain hissed to the royal guard. “I can’t believe you allowed the King to simply walk out into the dark forest without so much as an honor guard!”

Aragorn’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight torn with the choice of calling out his location or simply letting the Chamberlain think he had gone deep into the forest. The poor man was probably nearing heart failure at his disappearance. Aragorn smiled again as his mind whispered ‘little victories, take them while you can.’

“No one saw him leave, My Lord Chamberlain.” The captain of the guard said, eyes wide with fear.

“Then you and your men need to be better trained!” The Man refused to hear reason. “I do not want excuses. I want you to find him.” A long, deep sigh escaped his lips and he looked into the dark forest dejectedly.

Aragorn’s eyes caught those of his elven friend and Legolas nodded in understanding, obing ing his King’s unvoiced command. They remained completely still, watching with interest as the guards trouped through the forest.

“I’m certain no ill has befallen him,” The Captain attempted to reassure the Chamberlain but his calm voice only served to infte tte the man even more.

“Well, had you been more watchful, you would know for certain!” The Chamberlain whirled on the Captain of the Guard, eyes bugging as if they would pop out of his head. “If one hair on King Elessar’s head has been hurt, I will hold you personally responsible.”

Hearing the Chamberlain’s treatment of his well-trained men strengthened Aragorn’s resolve to remain right where he was – out of the Chamberlain’s sight. The Ranger in Aragorn, however, found it dif difficult to keep from slitting the Chamberlain’s throat for the unnecessary delivery of such harsh words.

Soon, the guards had moved on – at the Chamberlain’s insistent nagging - determined to find their missing King.

So concerned with the goings-on below, Aragorn did not see Legolas’ head snap in the opposite diron, on, eyes piercing the darkness as if it were daylight.

“Come,” Legolas stood, easily balancing on a branch no larger than the circumference of his wrist. His head was turned toward some invisible prey, his ears listening for the barest hint of sound. “There is trouble about.”

Aragorn frowned and stood, a little less gracefully, atop the branch on which he had been sitting.

Slowly, they began to climb the trees, moving from branch to overlapping branch with little effort. Legolas slowed to a pace Aragorn could keep up with, the man having not the training or the balance to move swiftly atop swaying branches.

When Legolas deemed they’d reached a far enough distance away from the camp, he crouched low, balancing precariously above a small rock-ladden stream. Aragorn looked around in the darkness, letting his elven-trained instincts take over. He looked toward Legolas, whose nose was turned into the wind.

“There is a foul stench on the air,” Legolas whispered, eyes piercing the darkness. “We must be wary.”

Aragorn’s eyes narrowed. “Is the camp in danger?”

“I do not think so.” Legolas turned to his friend, hearing immediately the concern for the Queen in his friend’s simple question.

Without warning, Legolas leapt from the branch and landed lightly on the ground below. Immediately his head jerked up and sniffed the air. When Aragorn landed solidly on the ground next to him, Legolas shoved his friend to the side, drew his bow and knocked an arrow faster than the eye could see.

“What is it?” Aragorn gritted as he nearly tripped on a protruding rock. As Aragorn peered into the darkness, two yellow eyes appeared before him. Bared teeth gleamed in the moonlight, haunting in their ferocity. The stench was nearly unbearable, made worse as the creature launched itself off powerful hind legs toward Aragorn.

“A Warg,” Legolas loosed an arrow that caught the advancing creature in the shoulder. It fell to the ground with an angry yelp but immediately gained its feet and continued to stalk toward the King. Aragorn drew Anduril, its ‘shing’, as it was released from its scabbard, echoed across the quiet forest and into the ears of the searching royal guards.

“If there are no others, we should be able to take him,” Legolas loosed another arrow, this time catching the snarling wolf in chest, dropping him instantly. But behind him, two more evil creatures lunged.

Aragorn caught the first in the chest, his blade slicing tendon and bone, dropping the vile creature where it stood. With an elegant flourish, Aragorn drew his blade from the torn flesh and brought it up to parry the flaring teeth that gnawed at his tunic.

“The guards!” Aragorn cried, concern for the well-being of his people carried in his voice. “Their senses are not so keen, they will be overtaken caught by surprise should there be more of these vile creatures about!” Before Aragorn could say any more, the creature’s teeth punctured the skin of his arm, drawing a shocked cry from the King’s lips.

Material ripped and blood flowed heavily from the wound as the creature’s teeth caught Aragorn’s arm. Aragorn blinked back the tears that pooled in his eyes. Skin was ripped painfully away from bone as Legolas fired two arrows straight into the Warg’s side, causing the creature to release Aragorn’s arm. Another arrow straight into the chest, silenced the Warg’s snarl for good.

Legolas whirled quickly around to be sure there were no more of the vile beasts lingering in the darkness. Once satisfied that there had been only three, Legolas rushed to his friend’s side.

The pain of the bite stung more than the King wanted to admit, and Legolas immediately grabbed the torn flesh and plunged it into the cool water of the stream. Aragorn bit back a cry of discomfort.

“We must cleanse the wound before the poison sets in,” Legolas ripped the shredded material away from his friend’s arm and scrubbed roughly at the skin with a fistful of nearby leaves.

Aragorn winced in pain at the harsh treatment but understood what his friend was trying to do. Fresh blood ran down his arm taking the poison of the Warg’s bitewith it.

Guardsman, having heard Aragorn’s earlier cry, trampled heavily through the trees until they reached their King. The Chamber mov moved from between the guards, a scowl permanently affixed to his wrinkled features. "My Lord! You should not have left camp without the appropriate escort! We heard your cry!” His eyes fixed on Legolas’ hands. “You've been injured - " He knelt beside Aragorn and Legolas favored him with an unemotional stare.

Aragorn glared at the man. "I am fine." He looked around at the guard that surrounded him. "And did you leave protection in the camp for my wife?"

The Chamberlain stood, snorting his disgust at Aragorn's complete disregard for his responsibilities. "I assure you the Queen is well protected, My Liege."

As Aragorn spoke with his Chamberlain, Legolas gathered a few herbs and squeezed the juices into Aragorn's open wound. Aragorn hissed in pain, drawing an angry look from his Chamberlain.

“Let him work.” Aragorn gritted. “He is the best healer among us. He knows what he is doing.”

"You may have a difficult time using the arm for the next few days." Legolas advised. "It will be stiff and may burn a bit." When he finished cleansing the wound, the elf placed a few leaves against the torn skin and wrapped them with a frayed piece of Aragorn's tunic to stop the bleeding.

"I'll be fine." Aragorn assured his friend. When he stood, his head began to swim and his eyes crossed.

"The effects of the herbs." Legolas said as the Chamberlain shot him a cold look. “As well as the loss of blood.” The Elf turned to the Chamberlain. "We must get back to the camp or we will be carrying the King to his bed."


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Arwen paced inside the pavilion. Royal guardsmen stood inside and out, weapons drawn and at the ready. Arwen's elven blade was never more than a few feet from her hand. She was torn between rage at him sneaking off and fear that he had been injured. The Chamberlain wasn’t the only one who may not survive the journey to the Shire.

When Aragorn, Legolas and the Chamberlain stepped through the flap, hours after he’d left, Arwen breathed a deep sigh of relief. She rushed to her husband and embraced him tightly, murmuring a few select elvish phrases into his ear.

"You're injured!" Arwen's eyes went wide and she quickly examined the rest of him to be sure he was still intact.

"Not badly," Legolas led Aragorn to the bed-chamber and assisted in the removal of his torn shirt.

Once bare-chested and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting breeches, Aragorn settled into the furs. "I think I'm fine for the rest of the evening." He stared at the men who insisted on remaining to lend their assistance and yawned. The herbs had begun to take the desired affect.

"Indeed you are," Legolas knelt beside his friend and gently touched his wrist. Noticing Arwen was otherwise occupied with the Chamberlain and a servant, Legolas leaned closer to add, "At least I will get some sleep for the next few nights."

Aragorn's eyes lit with understanding and he stifled a laugh. The herbs had not yet begun to affect his wit and he winked at his friend. "Oh, I don't know. Arwen can be pretty persuasive - "

Legolas stood quickly and shook his head. "There are some things, my friend, that I don't need to know. I've 'heard' enough for the rest of my days."

Arwen, hearing the end of the conversation, favored both men with a curious look.

"Don't ask," Aragorn smiled affectionately at his wife and Legolas bowed in respect before ma his his escape. He was not going to be the one to have to answer Arwen's questions about his conversation with her husband.

When the Chamberlain began nattering about protocol, leaving a secured camp to wander in the woods and various other ‘duties’, Aragorn's eyes began to cross. "We'll discuss this later. The herb’s medicinal properties are beginning to take affect and I will not be responsible for things that I should say from this moment forward." He gritted between clenched teeth.

The Chamberlain’s eyes widened and Arwen covered her smirk of amusement with the back of her hand.

Once Arwen recovered, she assured, "We will be fine for the evening. I will call should we need assistance." Arwen's gentle voice was a stark contrast to Aragorn's deep, rough tone.

The Chamberlain bowed gracefulnd snd stepped out of the pavilion, the guardsmen following close behind.

“And apologize to my Captain on your way out!” Aragorn called loudly, the annoyance in his voice shining through with amazing clarity. “Not many men can successfully track a Ranger.”
Arwen knelt beside her husband a brushed a few strands of hair that had fallen across his clouded eyes. "Don't ever do that again. I don't care who you think you are and who you wish you still were."

He turned sleepy eyes toward her as she settled into the furs beside him. She opened her arms and he settled into them, resting his head against her chest. He draped his injured arm across her waist and mumbled a response before falling into a deep, medication-induced sleep.

Arwen glared down at the sleeping man, her anger fading as she stared at his bandaged arm. She would have words with him in the morning when he was awake and unable to use medication as an excuse to extract himself from an argument.