𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖆

Chapter Forty-Three: The Palantir

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Footsteps disturbed the silent Hall, awaking me from my sleep. It was not yet light and my eyes had not adjusted to the darkness. But I was able to distinguish a dark figure that crossed the room, making for the fire. He stooped, and moved some logs about, stirring the embers and sending a waft of warm air towards me. As my vision at last adjusted, I recognized him as Aragorn.

I pushed myself up, cringing instantly as a bolt of pain shot through my head and nausea overcame me. I groaned, alerting Aragorn's attention to me. He stood from his place by the fire, taking slow and quiet steps towards me so as to not wake Éowyn, who slept soundly across from me.

"You should sleep," he said softly, kneeling.

"As should you," I said, shrugging off my blanket.

"You need it more than I, with the nasty aftershock from all that ale that's going to hit you."

"It already has, and I find I'm in no mood for sleep. Besides, some cold air would do me well," I whispered.

I went to stand, and Aragorn stood too, offering me his arm. I took it graciously, wrapping my hand around it. He pulled me to my feet and steadied me as I wavered for a moment, overcome by a sudden head rush.

"What time is it?" I asked, rubbing my temples to soothe the ache in my head.

"It isn't yet dawn," he replied, staring pointedly at his arm which I had not yet released.

I made to drop my hand from his arm, but he placed his own hand on top of mine, keeping it there. I paid it no mind, thankful to have someone to lean on in my nauseous and dizzy torpor. I only hoped a breath of the outside air would quell the nausea, or at least lessen it.

"What are you doing awake at this hour?" I asked, as the two of us made our way to the doors of the Hall.

"I suspect the same as you," he answered, "I'm not in the mood to sleep."

"What troubles you?"

He didn't answer, dropping my gaze and pushing open one of the doors.

"It is Arwen, is it not? Or perhaps it is Frodo and Sam?" I shook my head, sighing, "There is much to dwell over these days."

"That's certainly true," Aragorn said, leading me out onto the parapet which overlooked Edoras.

The silence that lay over it like a blanket was complete and unbroken except by the sounds of our footsteps and mingling breath. Not a single bird's song disturbed the quiet, nor even did the whinny of an early-rising horse sound from the nearby stables. The breeze, though strong, even kept the silent rhythm. A shiver ran down my spine at the cool air, which otherwise felt wonderful as I breathed it in deeply, quelling the nausea in my throat. The stiff wind cooled my warm and flustered face, and flew through the untied strings of my corset. I took long and thoughtful breaths, leaning into Aragorn's warmth as we gazed over Edoras.

"A drinking game, I think, was not the wisest of ways to introduce yourself to ale," Aragorn remarked with a grin.

"How long will the nausea and headache last?" I asked him sorely.

"No longer than a few hours."

"Joy," I rolled my eyes, "I'm curious; why do people drink?"

"They usually don't in such excess," Aragorn laughed, "Drinking can be enjoyable in minimal amounts."

"In any case, it is certainly the last time I drink, and you may quote me on that."

Aragorn looked down on me with a smile and I met his gaze. Silence fell again and the whole world seemed to freeze as the beginnings of dawn crept up brightly over the horizon.