Chapter 48

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Chapter 48

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Chapter 48

Despite Aragorn's protests that he knew few dances, Théadain had managed to coerce him into following her own misplaced footsteps. In truth, his eyes rarely dropped to follow her feet, but instead remained locked on her face as she laughed her way across the floor of the hall, occasionally distracted by those that called out to her. When she was summoned to oversee the occasional drinking game, he followed, his hand settling on her waist as he stood with her, simply watching the joyful way she interacted with her people. He marvelled at the way she seemed so at ease, the tension and grief she had carried throughout the last few weeks seemingly forgotten – or at least held at bay – under the warm glow of the torches that lit the hall.

Each touch he placed on her sent Théadain's heart racing, even as she tried her hardest to appear composed before her companions. The heat of his hand radiated through the fabric of her gown and it was all she could do not to turn and pounce on him like a cat after a string. It had been too long since she had been free to kiss him; they had not been truly alone since that evening before the battle, when they had so briefly been reunited before the world threatened to tear them apart once more.

She knew her own heart now, and she had even admitted those feelings to him, albeit in the heat of battle. They were no less potent now, as she looked up into his face in the warmly lit hall. She loved this man, so fiercely that she thought when she looked at him her heart might burst from her chest, and she took every chance she could to show him so in the subtle ways she could in the crowded hall. Brushing her fingertips over his bare forearms, pressing her body to his side as she moved to pass him in the chaotic space, offering him every smile that the mere sight of him pulled to her lips. Though each touch seemed to sear her skin and leave her wanting more, it was all she could grant herself, until they were alone at least.

Gradually though, the night seemed to be drawing to a quiet close. Men staggered or were carried from the soft glow of the hall, either to their own homes in the city below or to the quarters that had been prepared just off the great room. As Théadain handed the staggering form of one of her men over to his wife at the doorway, she stepped out into the cool night air, drawing in a deep breath as she watched her people mill away into the night, the sounds of slurred singing rising up from the city below.

"Everyone is happy tonight." She murmured with a smile as she felt a hand lightly touch her lower back.

"Are you happy, Théa?" Aragorn asked softly, looking down at her as she gazed out over the dark plains, her face illuminated by the braziers that burned by the steps to the hall. He had never asked her that, for there had been little opportunity for it in the time they had known each other. There was always some loss, some threat hanging over their heads. There still was though; even now, those threats still lingered, focused somewhere over the Eastern horizon, but for now the joy radiating from Edoras seemed to be holding that darkness at bay.

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