Title: In Dreams

Rating: G

Summary: Arwen watches over the man she loves. This was written for the ME Express Prompt #77: Watch.

Disclaimers: I'm not Tolkien, I have no claims on any of the characters used here.

Thanks to Padawanar for the title. I always have such a hard time coming up with good titles. And thanks to Wimsey for the beta read.

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'…Arwen remained in Rivendell, and when Aragorn was abroad, from afar she watched over him in thought…'

Appendix A: The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen.

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Arwen lay upon her bed, barely noticing the gentle breeze blowing through the window or the scent of the rosebushes nearby. Her mind was blind to her surroundings, stretched out into the wild, seeking the one she loved. It took only a moment of searching before she felt his presence in her mind. A frown crossed her face as she felt the pain and exhaustion emanating from him. Delving deeper into his mind, she saw flashes of battle, orcs on every side. Her heart raced and her fists clenched at her sides as she lay in her room, helpless to assist him. A gasp escaped her throat as she felt a fiery pain in her leg. She sat up abruptly, reaching down to clutch at her leg, only to realize the pain had vanished as her connection to Aragorn shattered. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head and prayed with all her heart that Aragorn would prevail in his battle, that he would return to her, whole and healthy.

Rising, she walked briskly to her balcony, stopping only when she could grasp the railing in her hands and look out over the valley, though her eyes saw naught of its beauty. Her heart was heavy with worry for Aragorn. She longed to be at his side, to fight beside him, to protect him. Ever had she been left behind, worry filling her heart as she watched Aragorn ride off, never knowing if it would be the last time she saw him.

Using her ability to watch over him from afar, she supported him as best she could and encouraged him in his dreams. At times like this, knowing he was fighting for his very life, it did not seem nearly enough. Glancing down, she saw that her hands were clenched so tightly around the railing that her knuckles were white from the strain. Loosening her grip, she released the railing and stepped away, beginning to pace slowly back and forth down the length of the balcony, her dress sweeping the stone and creating a hushed whisper in her ears. The sound barely registered, drowned out by the pounding of her heart. It took all her concentration to calm her mind and body once again. Only when she was calm would she be able to reach out to Aragorn again.

Sinking down upon the chaise near one wall, she closed her eyes and clasped her hands loosely in her lap, quieting her thoughts. Reaching out once more, she brushed against Aragorn's mind, and felt a wave of relief rush through her. He was alive! The sensations she felt now were not those associated with battle, but with the aftermath. There was pain and exhaustion, yes, but also relief, concern for his men, and satisfaction that the battle was won. Releasing the connection, she slumped back against the cushions. He was alive, that was enough for now. She would wait until he slept, then bring him into the world only they shared. In dreams, they could speak and touch; she could reassure herself that he was well, bring comfort to him and ease his pain. If dreams were all they had, she would make the best of them.