Aragorn opened his eyes, or to be specific,opened his eyelids. Albeit to his flickering lashes that trembled like butterfly wings on a flower, his eyes kept still, staring at the hovering darkness abovehim which crouched down and bent over, with sharp white teeth and an evil grin.
Within the next blink, the bizarre shape hadgone. He could only see his bedroom ceiling, dim and shadowy.
Shadows was now creeping upon his chest. Thisshould be the shadow of his roof lamp reflected from the moon light thatsneaked into this room through curtains, but this was giving Aragorn an uneasyfeeling.
He stretched his limbs, could almost hearhis own joints moaned, and he didn’t care. It was about 2 o’ clock in the morning,and he had just had the wriest, if not one of, dream beyond his wildestimagination, with the screams of shapes like deformed half-human piercing thebloody sky of down. Those shapes were strong, swart, with large hands and thickfeet, carrying broad-bladed swords and bow of yew., but they screamed because theywere fleeing, fleeing from the battlement and chasers like swift wind behind. Theirugly faces twisted by the fear from their heart; their mouths opened so wideand wild that could swallow a small beast alive; their legs quivered and their feetwas padding the ground with all speed they could gather. They ran quick, but noquicker than valiant horses of Rohan behind.
Preys were hunted, their sarcastic yelling andcrying could be heard by white mountains stood far beyond, glittering in goldand red by the falling sun in the west. Aragorn’s face had been covered by bloodand dust, but no tiredness and weariness he was seen. He raised his blade and cried:‘Elendil !’,, with a flash of whit light an orc’s head was slain.
The little cracking sound of the closetdoor brought Aragorn’s attention back to reality. He had tried to re-sketch scenesfrom his dream, slaughter and carcasses lying motionless on the ground. But thedream was fading, colours and faces drifted away, diminishing in the deepestsea of his mind, and no star could shine upon them.
Aragorn opened the lamp, blinking his eyestwice, trying to adjust the pouring brightness that chased away shadows in thecorners. He glazed around his bedroom----standard single ensuite for collegestudents. His sight fixed on his study for a while, staring at it so burnt andhard, yet the desk still, no monster or creepy shape crouched beneath it,
Aragornmocked at himself for his over-tense, deciding to blame this bad dream to theextreme pressure before exams. It’s common for university students to stressout for the incoming final, and there is nothing special to it. He tried tocalm down, but his throat was burning, like fire licking woods, or like claws ofbeasts scratching his trachea. So he went out of bed, needing something warmfor a drink. Tea or coffee, he didn’t care.
He made himself a Cappuccino with plenty ofmilk in. With the normal habit of no sugar, he poured two tea spoons of cubicsugar this time. It is said that sugar has a strong calming effect, used totreat panic in the long past, and he decided to go with superstition now. Aragornheld his mug up, leaning to the kitchen table, sipping his over-sweeten coffee.It was hot, very hot, so he swayed his cup gently, blowing the surface of theliquid. The brown coffee was tilted a little, with small ripples blossomed on top,like a pound in a soothing spring rain.
His thoughts started to flow again,streaming from the head, falling and winding to the unexisted land beyond. Hesaw dome came, the shadow of night melted. the long arm of light stretched inthe east, red light glowing from the horizon. Men and horses glimmered in gold,their armours and spears reflected the shine of rising sun. Day had leaped tosky. The red rim of the sun rose over the dark shoulders of the land. Powerfuland young the sun climbed, night departed.
And behold! There stood Theoden King son ofThengel, his figure tall and valiant; in his eyes wisdom and mightiness forgedby the pass of time shown. His face was of a living king, highly and majesty helooked, the King of Mark. Beside him stood Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elessar,the Elfstone, Dunadan, King of the White Tree, hire of Isildur, the most mightblood inherited from the Westerness sailed from the grey sea.
The plain of Pelennor was beneath their feet,green grass had been trampled by horses, boots, orcs feet, and maybe evenhobbits. Blood splashed from here to there, piles of body mounded on the turf, sohigh that almost conceal the sky.
This should not be true, Aragorn thought tohimself, Theoden had long perished before he came to the battle of Pelennor, carryingthe aid with all the speed he had. Nor he was fighting on foot in suchbattlement.
So he looked around, but saw no TheodenKing of Rohan, but a slender Elf by his side. His eyes were of sea blue, glitteringlike diamonds in sunlight. Aragorn saw tree, water, freshness and freedom fromthose eyes, but he also saw courage and friendship, valiance and allegiance.Finally he saw affection, the love and adornment of elf poured out like water,poured to his heart and mind. So King of Gondor smiled, and leaned to kiss the Elf.
Aragorn almost jumped to his feet when heheard somebody talking to him from far off. His mug fell from his hand, justbefore clashing to the ground was it grabbed by a long, pale hand. But theremaining coffee had splashed, nobody could save that.
‘You are not sleepwalking, aren’t you?’ Hisfriend smirked at him, putting the cup back to kitchen table,‘Saw somebody went to the kitchen years ago, wandering if he wasdrowned in the sink.’
Aragorn sighed, ‘If it’s that easy.’
He turned around to find tissues, but hewas suddenly hugged from the back. Legolas’ long arms had crossed his waist,tightening around his belt. He felt the blond man leaned against him, put his jawon the shoulder, pinching at his collarbone.
‘Anything wrong?’ He asked softly behind.
Aragorn chose to say nothing but to lean back,he unbuckled Legolas’s hands, stroking gently his palm. The night is still deepoutside, they could hear nothing but the wind blowing trees , and leaves moanedfrom the chilly air.
Finally he asked: ‘ Would you beside me ?’For anything that happened and will happen.
He knew this is a statement rather thanquestion, so he cared no answer. He turned facing Legolas, seeing the unreadable grievances in his eyes. ‘Do not sorrow, for sorrowness eventually passes.’
He said gently, and kissed him, or kissed by him, it didn’t matter.
He remembered Socrates’s famous saying,that knowledge is recollection. You have the soul travelled far from the past, dwelling temporarily in this torso at present, but would ultimately relished back toheaven in the future . So Aragorn would then learn from his dream, about his glorious history that had been forgotten in the flow of time.
AO3 账号炸了所以暂时放到lofter来， 但是这个排版也太恐怖了吧。。有没有大佬教我怎么在lof打英语啊