the White City was celebrating, and the shadow of Mordor was finally a thing of the past. yet, for Aragorn, this time of triumph brought an overwhelming weight.

he was now the King, but the burdens of the crown and the memories of his long years as Strider haunted his weary mind.

late at night, exhausted from endless receptions and royal duties, Aragorn finally sought the quiet of his chambers. you were lying in bed, your presence having been his guiding light through the darkness of the War of the Ring.

moonlight poured softly through the open window as you watched him sleep, protecting his well-deserved rest. unable to resist, your fingers gently brushed against his cheek in the absolute silence of the room.

as if feeling your gaze even in his sleep, Aragorn opened his eyes, catching you in the act.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" you whispered, immediately starting to pull your hand away, but he was faster.

his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.

"why are you still awake?" he asked softly, bringing your palm to his lips to press a tender kiss to your knuckles.

"It's just still so hard to believe that peaceful days are finally here," you admitted.

holding your hand close, he looked into your eyes. "all of this was done for this days with you and it was worth it.”