Another request for Aragorn, by Ainu Laire.
'Tis midnight when a small figure joins him. "Is aught wrong, Pippin?" Aragorn asks.
"Can't sleep," he replies, unusually terse. Aragorn nods. He, too, has felt little desire for sleep since Weathertop. In silence they sit, watching the night. Then suddenly:
"What you said in Bree–you've fought the Riders before?"
Pippin frowns up at him. "And you still came with us?"
'Tis Aragorn's turn to frown, wondering how to explain himself to a hobbit. "Long ago, I vowed to serve even unto this last. For a Ranger, it cannot be otherwise."
Silence. Then (sweet relief):