The night before the road.
Aragorn x reader
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
The halls of Rivendell were quiet—quieter than you had ever heard them. Even the waterfalls seemed hushed tonight, as if the valley itself understood what dawn would take from it.
You found Aragorn where you knew he would be: standing alone on one of the stone balconies, overlooking the moonlit forest. His cloak stirred in the cool night breeze, and the pale silver light caught in his dark hair, outlining him like the hero he would soon have to be.
He heard you long before you stepped into the light.
“Your footsteps are softer tonight,” he said, voice low, thoughtful. “Even for an elf.”
You managed a faint smile as you came to stand beside him. “And your heart is louder.”
Aragorn exhaled a breath that sounded like surrender. “Then you know what weighs on it.”
You did. The Quest. The Ring. Frodo’s impossible road.
And the knowledge that the man beside you would walk into danger with every step he took.
You reached for his hand without thinking, your fingers finding his—cold at first, then slowly warming against your touch. He turned toward you fully, the tension in his face softening as though the sight of you eased something deep within him.
“I should not ask you to stay up with me,” he murmured. “You deserve rest, peace—things I cannot offer you tonight.”
You shook your head gently. “I would not leave you alone with thoughts like these.”
His eyes searched yours, full of quiet gratitude… and something deeper, something aching.
A moment passed—soft as falling leaves, fragile as stolen time.
Aragorn lifted a hand and tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was tender, deliberate… almost reverent. “I fear what lies ahead,” he confessed. “Not for myself, but for those who will walk beside me. For what the road may demand of us.”
“And yet you will walk it,” you said softly. “Because no one else could carry the burdens you can.”
He bowed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. “If I could remain here… with you… I would.”
Your breath caught. “I know.”
The words throbbed in the silence between you—what you could not have, what you wished for, what tomorrow would take.
Aragorn’s fingers curled around your waist, drawing you into him. Not in passion, but in need—raw, human, honest. You rested your hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, memorizing its rhythm, knowing it would soon be far from you.
He whispered your name like a vow. “You have given me strength when my own faltered. Let tonight be a memory I carry into the darkness.”
You leaned into him fully, letting your forehead rest against his shoulder. “Then let it be a gentle one,” you murmured. “So that even in shadow, you remember you were loved.”
Aragorn’s arms tightened around you. He held you for a long moment—long enough to feel the rise and fall of his breath, long enough to pretend that time wasn’t slipping through your fingers.
When he finally spoke, his voice trembled despite all his control.
“When I return,” he said, “if fate is kind… will you be here still?”
Your heart nearly broke at the hope in his eyes.
“For you?” You cupped his cheek softly. “Always.”
He kissed your forehead—soft, lingering, full of everything the night allowed and everything the dawn would steal.
And beneath the pale moonlight of Rivendell, you held each other one last time, knowing that love was sometimes a waiting, sometimes a promise…
And sometimes, a farewell.