We Both Know - Aragorn x Reader
Aragorn x Reader Fanfic
Warnings/Content : longing, angst, flirting, terms of endearment
Summary : Aragorn arrives to ask you, a studious woman with a love for the land around you, to help the Fellowship find how to best navigate the coming leg of their journey. When Boromir shows interest in you, Aragorn has some...feelings about it.
A/N : This is currently a stand alone fic, but I will be continuing it with the hopes of turning it into a mini series. Enjoy!
Word Count : 1.7k
You sat quietly in your small cottage, the trees rustling gently in the breeze as you mend your garden apron. There was a hole in the floral-patterned front pocket where you gathered the produce from your small front garden. In front of you, various maps and quills were spread out on your desk. You studied maps religiously, and knew the land in and out. You breathed it, you lived it, and you loved it. You loved the feeling of the dirt beneath your toes as you gathered carrots from the garden patch, and at the moment you enjoyed the quiet peace that came with mending your personal items.
You finished up your apron and set it on the desk, flexing your neck side to side as you finally looked up. The strain was a bit bothersome, but you had suffered worse and were not too worried about it. Standing up, you bring the apron to the back door, hanging it gently from the golden doorknob. You hummed to yourself, shuffling into the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove. Tea sounded nice, and you searched through your cabinet for the perfect blend.
Living in between Lorien and Fangorn Forest was interesting at times, but your small cottage was cozy, quaint, and perfect enough for just you. You loved watching the birds and rabbits, and you loved it when you saw some of the elves out hunting. You pulled out a green tea blend and placed it into your mug. You startle slightly when the kettle whistles, so deep in thought you almost forgot you were waiting for that high pitch. You pour the hot water into your mug, bringing it up to your lips to blow lightly on your beverage when you hear a knock on the door.
You furrow your brow, curious about who could be at the door. Moving to your faded blue front door, you set your mug of tea on your desk as you move to the front. You open the door, surprised at who you find there.
“Lossë nin.” He says, quietly. You blink. And then you blink again.
“Aragorn?” You breathe. You glance over his shoulder, noticing a ragtag group of men standing across the front garden, near your gate. Your eyes slide back to Aragorn, your eyebrow raising.
“We need your assistance, y/n.” He says, and you motion for him to come in. You tilt your head at the group, then motion with your arm for them to follow.
After introductions are made and you are all settled into your small, warm living room, you look around at the group.
“We would be honored if you would assist us in finding the best route forward.” Aragorn says. You cannot believe that he would even think he would have to formally ask you. You nod deeply, quickly standing to grab the large map you keep for navigational purposes.
“You do not need to ask, Aragorn.” You say, spreading the map out in front of the men. You notice the hobbits gather close near your elbows, too small to see around the larger men and Gimli. You run your fingers over the weathered map, feeling as if your fingers were following a groove that had been traced there from excessive use by your seemingly endless studies.
“We are here.” You point. “You will have to take the boats to keep along Nen Hithoel, and go along the hills there, Emyn Muil.” You move your shoulders slightly. “This will be the best path for you, seeing as you have the Halflings here.” You smile down at them, and the ones called Pippin and Merry grin back at you enthusiastically. Your eyes travel back to Aragorn, who is nodding silently, looking down at the map. His dark hair falls forward, concealing his face.
You have known him so long, and yet you have not seen him in quite a few years. You had spent every moment together when he was last around. You bit your lip at this memory, remembering the upset you had felt and expressed to him then. He had left, leaving your heart aching. You were not quite sure why it had hurt so, it was not like Aragorn was a lover. He was just a friend.
Aragorn nods once more. “Yes. This is what we will do. Many thanks to you, y/n.” He looks up at you, blue eyes sparkling. He gives you a small smile. You smile back, then look around at the rest of the Fellowship.
“Well gentlemen, you must stay for rest and food. I will not hear of you leaving without. I have just made a lovely mutton stew.” You swore you could hear the Halfling’s stomachs rumble.
“Beautiful and hospitable!” roars Gimli. “Where have ye been hiding this lass, Aragorn?” You laugh openly, amused at the dwarf. Aragorn shakes his head at Gimli, as if to say “You are too much”.
Boromir claps a hand on Gimli’s shoulder. “Beautiful indeed, and I am sure she is a delightful cook as well.” He smiles at you, the glint in his eye almost mischievous.
You raise an eyebrow in return, waving your hand. “Who? Me? I am quite flattered, Boromir.”
At this, Aragorn clenches his jaw shut tightly. You pretend not to notice.
After supper, you watch Boromir wrestle with the Halflings, Pippin and Merry. You find it sweet. He treated them as if they were younger brothers. Legolas was whittling quietly while he listened to Gimli speak about dwarf women and what they were like. Frodo and Sam were next to you, looking at your garden. Sam was a gardener himself, and he was delighted at all of the different produce you grew. You told him to take what he wanted, so they may have food for their journey.
You did not know where Aragorn was. Boromir glances up at you and smiles, and you smile back.
Boromir makes his way over to you. “Lossë nin.” He says, mimicking what Aragorn had called you earlier. Legolas turns his head at this, brow raised.
You laugh lightly, unable to tell him that term is something Aragorn and Aragorn only called you. You hear Aragorn scoff, and you realize he was leaning against your front door. He pushes himself off the worn, weathered door, and stalks around the backside of your cottage, where the flowers rested. You blink. You look at everyone else, who in turn stare at you. You clear your throat and turn, quickly following after Aragorn. As you disappear around the moss covered stone wall, you hear whispers.
“That’s a term of endearment, Boromir.” Legolas whispers. You bite your lip, the urge to speak to Aragorn growing prominently.
Aragorn stands among the flowers behind your house, silent. You walk to his side, staring forward just as he does.
“What is it you want?” He says, and you turn your head at this.
“I do not have want for anything, seeing as this is my house.” You retort. He closes his eyes briefly at this, then turns to you.
“My apologies. I do not like it when others call you by the name I affectionately gave you.”
You narrow your eyes. You did not know why this bothered him so, but his apparent possession over you had something bubbling in your chest at the moment.
“How affectionate was the giving of this nickname? I do not find myself bound to you.” You say, your nostrils flaring. Aragorn’s jaw tenses again and he looks away from you briefly.
“We both know that I cannot be bound to you in the way that you wish, y/n.” He clenches his fist, and you can tell he is trying to control his emotions.
“You cannot or you will not?” You challenge. You did not know what had come over you. Perhaps it was the years missed, perhaps it was because he acted with jealousy and you secretly enjoyed that. Before Aragorn has the chance to answer, you move to another topic. “I have decided that I will accompany you on the next leg of this journey.”
Aragorn fully turns towards you now. “You cannot.”
“You cannot tell me-”
“I can and I will.” He says without letting you finish. He steps closer to you, his blue eyes blazing as he gazes at you. You look back at him defiantly, refusing to back down. He usually did not get this close to you.
“No. You cannot. I am the person to bring along. I know the route better than anybody. I am a valuable resource.” You state calmly, looking up at him. He leans in, his lips mere inches from yours.
“You are more than a resource to me, lossë nin.” He glances down at your lips, his eyes trailing up to meet yours. You swallow, becoming weak in the knees.
You steel your e/c eyes on him and give your response. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I think you know that.”
“We both know.” He says, leaning just slightly closer again. “But I cannot lose you.”
“It is not only about you, Aragorn.” You say, your tone becoming slightly heated. “I am able to make my own decisions, and if I choose to accompany the Fellowship as your guide, I shall.”
He shakes his head before you finish what you are saying. He is sighing, exasperated. “You…always so stubborn, y/n.” And then he cups his large hand around the back of your neck, and oh. Aragorn is kissing you. You kiss back, tasting the sweat and tears and hardship that has brought him to this point. You slide your hands up his chest, your delicate hands cradling his face. He deepens the kiss slightly, his arms encircling your waist and pulling you close. All too soon, the kiss is over and your head is reeling. You step back from him, breathless. You do not give him the chance to continue holding you.
“This changes nothing. I will be accompanying you when dawn breaks.” You inform him. He looks at you. But he doesn’t look disappointed, he looks almost peaceful, as if your lips had been just what he had required on this long journey.
“Please.” He says, as you start to walk away, back to the others. “Do not let Boromir call you as such, again, lossë nin.”
You tilt your head. “Perhaps he can bestow his own endearment upon me.” You retort, enjoying the opportunity to toy with Aragorn, who always seemed so stoic. You do not give him a chance to respond before you return to your front garden, wondering where this Fellowship would take you.
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translations
Lossë nin - my blossom
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