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fandomweekly2026-04-19 04:38 pm
vamp_ress) wrote in fandomweekly2026-04-19 04:38 pm
Entry tags:
[#297] Stray (The Lord of the Rings)
Theme Prompt: #297 "Unexpected Kindness"
Title: Stray
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings
Rating/Warnings: None, General Audiences
Bonus: No
Word Count: 1000
Summary: The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen, with the addition of some fantastical whimsy.
Once upon a time, in a valley so beautiful yet remote that it was slowly passing into legend and myth in the minds of the people living in the area, lived a princess. She was fair of face — with skin as pale as ebony and long silken tresses the colour of midnight. She was in the habit of walking in her father’s spacious garden during the nights when the moon was full. To pass the time she would sing a melodious tune and dance amongst the blossoming roses with such a light step that her feet hardly touched the ground.
It was on such occasion that a spectator’s gaze fell on her graceful body for he, too, liked walking beneath the sparkling stars on warm summer nights. Such was his surprise upon witnessing the princess’ beauty that he believed her to be a spectre sent to him during a dream.
However, she was no dream. Love for the princess grew in his heart. It grew into a tall tree with strong roots, yet the princess was not ready to answer his call. She was young and independent, and vowed to only bend the knee for someone with a true heart and a caring soul.
He promised that he was in possession of both these traits and that his intentions were honourable, but words could deceive and the princess would not be swayed by arguments, however convincing they tried to be. She wanted to see words turn into action and promises into deeds and so she sent her suitor away.
“Prove to me that you are of noble character and I will follow you and give you my heart.”
He was a man of strong will and vowed to return to her a hero. And so he took to wandering the wilds and fighting battles in the hope of winning his lady’s heart. His name was spoken with reverence, but his princess continued to withhold her love.
For the noble deed she expected was not one that would be sung about in songs.
~*~
Damnation, Aragorn thought while he drew his cloak tighter around his shivering body. Winter seemed to hold sway forever this year and an icy sprinkle of rain was falling from a veiled sky. It did not manage to put out the little fire he had going, but it was enough to make him feel damp and miserable and utterly alone during this long and cold night far from the place he had called home during his childhood years.
A hare was roasting over the fire. Once he had skinned the animal it had become apparent that it had hardly any meat on its bones, but gnawing on the sinewy meat would still be better than going on an empty stomach once again. Aragorn shivered and looked at the fire. He longed for warmth, for the summer sun. And he longed to feel dry once more.
Suddenly, he felt eyes on him. Instinctly, his hand went to his sword even while he was trying to pierce the darkness with his gaze. And then he smiled and let go of the pommel of his sword. “Hello,” he said in a voice raspy from long disuse. “Have you lost your way?”
There was a pitiful little squeak and Aragorn held out a hand to beckon the small creature into the circle of light. “Come here, little one.”
A small, black cat emerged and gracefully walked up to Aragorn, only to sit down again — far enough away that it was just out of reach. The creature looked soaked, its fur standing up in spikes. The cat started to lick its paws and its belly and then its tail. The smell of the roasting hare hit its nose and it sniffed the air in interest.
Aragorn looked at his meagre meal and then he looked at the cat. “You’re a stray like me, are you not? Come over here and we’ll share the food. There’s enough for the both of us.”
The cat’s response was an appreciative meow.
“Alright, then. Let’s eat,” Aragorn proposed and the cat’s nose twitched as if in understanding.
The cat looked at him in interest while he took out a small knife and cut off a piece of meat. He blew on it and then held it out to the cat with an outstretched arm. In one swift move, the cat shot forwards and snatched the meat from his fingers, swallowing it whole. Aragorn smiled. He cut off a piece of meat for himself and then another for the cat. He went on like that until there was nothing left. He reliquinshed the bones to the cat and kept one for himself to suck on in the hope of keeping the hunger away for a while longer.
The cat gave a little chirping sound and laid down, putting its nose under the tail and making itself as small as possible to preserve body heat.
Aragorn rubbed his hands together and held one out in invitation. “Come on, you’re cold. Come closer.” He opened his coat a little. “If you snuggle up you won’t be quite so cold. I’ll stroke your fur if you like.”
The cat looked at him out of yellow eyes. Aragorn kept beckoning and eventually the cat came closer. Aragorn shivered when the cat was finally under the coat because it felt cold and wet against his shirt. He closed the coat tightly around the small creature and started to sing a lullaby.
When a new day dawned and the fire had burnt down to embers, the cat was gone. It had left a present for Aragorn, though. A tiny, dead mouse had been placed next to his foot.
“Thank you,” Aragorn said out loud. “Safe travels.”
~*~ The princess smiled, humming the lullaby her suitor had sung. She brushed black cat hairs off her dress and made a little noise in the back of her throat that could only be called a purr.
Title: Stray
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings
Rating/Warnings: None, General Audiences
Bonus: No
Word Count: 1000
Summary: The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen, with the addition of some fantastical whimsy.
Once upon a time, in a valley so beautiful yet remote that it was slowly passing into legend and myth in the minds of the people living in the area, lived a princess. She was fair of face — with skin as pale as ebony and long silken tresses the colour of midnight. She was in the habit of walking in her father’s spacious garden during the nights when the moon was full. To pass the time she would sing a melodious tune and dance amongst the blossoming roses with such a light step that her feet hardly touched the ground.
It was on such occasion that a spectator’s gaze fell on her graceful body for he, too, liked walking beneath the sparkling stars on warm summer nights. Such was his surprise upon witnessing the princess’ beauty that he believed her to be a spectre sent to him during a dream.
However, she was no dream. Love for the princess grew in his heart. It grew into a tall tree with strong roots, yet the princess was not ready to answer his call. She was young and independent, and vowed to only bend the knee for someone with a true heart and a caring soul.
He promised that he was in possession of both these traits and that his intentions were honourable, but words could deceive and the princess would not be swayed by arguments, however convincing they tried to be. She wanted to see words turn into action and promises into deeds and so she sent her suitor away.
“Prove to me that you are of noble character and I will follow you and give you my heart.”
He was a man of strong will and vowed to return to her a hero. And so he took to wandering the wilds and fighting battles in the hope of winning his lady’s heart. His name was spoken with reverence, but his princess continued to withhold her love.
For the noble deed she expected was not one that would be sung about in songs.
Damnation, Aragorn thought while he drew his cloak tighter around his shivering body. Winter seemed to hold sway forever this year and an icy sprinkle of rain was falling from a veiled sky. It did not manage to put out the little fire he had going, but it was enough to make him feel damp and miserable and utterly alone during this long and cold night far from the place he had called home during his childhood years.
A hare was roasting over the fire. Once he had skinned the animal it had become apparent that it had hardly any meat on its bones, but gnawing on the sinewy meat would still be better than going on an empty stomach once again. Aragorn shivered and looked at the fire. He longed for warmth, for the summer sun. And he longed to feel dry once more.
Suddenly, he felt eyes on him. Instinctly, his hand went to his sword even while he was trying to pierce the darkness with his gaze. And then he smiled and let go of the pommel of his sword. “Hello,” he said in a voice raspy from long disuse. “Have you lost your way?”
There was a pitiful little squeak and Aragorn held out a hand to beckon the small creature into the circle of light. “Come here, little one.”
A small, black cat emerged and gracefully walked up to Aragorn, only to sit down again — far enough away that it was just out of reach. The creature looked soaked, its fur standing up in spikes. The cat started to lick its paws and its belly and then its tail. The smell of the roasting hare hit its nose and it sniffed the air in interest.
Aragorn looked at his meagre meal and then he looked at the cat. “You’re a stray like me, are you not? Come over here and we’ll share the food. There’s enough for the both of us.”
The cat’s response was an appreciative meow.
“Alright, then. Let’s eat,” Aragorn proposed and the cat’s nose twitched as if in understanding.
The cat looked at him in interest while he took out a small knife and cut off a piece of meat. He blew on it and then held it out to the cat with an outstretched arm. In one swift move, the cat shot forwards and snatched the meat from his fingers, swallowing it whole. Aragorn smiled. He cut off a piece of meat for himself and then another for the cat. He went on like that until there was nothing left. He reliquinshed the bones to the cat and kept one for himself to suck on in the hope of keeping the hunger away for a while longer.
The cat gave a little chirping sound and laid down, putting its nose under the tail and making itself as small as possible to preserve body heat.
Aragorn rubbed his hands together and held one out in invitation. “Come on, you’re cold. Come closer.” He opened his coat a little. “If you snuggle up you won’t be quite so cold. I’ll stroke your fur if you like.”
The cat looked at him out of yellow eyes. Aragorn kept beckoning and eventually the cat came closer. Aragorn shivered when the cat was finally under the coat because it felt cold and wet against his shirt. He closed the coat tightly around the small creature and started to sing a lullaby.
When a new day dawned and the fire had burnt down to embers, the cat was gone. It had left a present for Aragorn, though. A tiny, dead mouse had been placed next to his foot.
“Thank you,” Aragorn said out loud. “Safe travels.”
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