Cheating Death, by cairistiona
Mar. 16th, 2012 10:41 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
cairistiona7.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
b2memB2MeM Challenge: G50 Hurt/Comfort, "Warm Blankets"
Format: Ficlet, Vignette
Genre: Drama, H/C
Rating: G
Warnings: None, really, unless a warning is needed for mention of OC death
Characters: Aragorn, Halbarad, OCs including Rangers Denlad, Galadh, and Eledh, and the cobbler Maevor, from "A Star In Midwinter"
Pairings: None
Summary: His people have dwindled enough.
“Eledh, quick! Get warm blankets, lots of them!” Halbarad half carried a stumbling and shivering Aragorn into the cottage. Denlad hurried behind, carrying a crying toddler, the cobbler Maevor on his heels. “And get that fire roaring!”
“I’ve got the fire, Eledh. You see to the blankets,” Galadh said. His stricken eyes took in Aragorn and Maevor’s youngest daughter even as he fed more logs onto the fire. “What happened?”
“Little Héniel fell through the ice. Aragorn saved her.” Halbarad pulled at Aragorn’s shirt. “Get these wet clothes off, Strider, before you catch your death.”
“G-get her dried f-first.” He flapped hands he couldn’t feel toward the tail of his shirt, but he couldn’t seem to grasp hold of it.
Halbarad knocked his hands away. “Denlad and Maevor are seeing to the child.” He jerked Aragorn’s tunic over his head. Cold water splattered onto the flagstone hearth. “Now the boots and your breeches.”
Aragorn collapsed onto the bench, and Halbarad unceremoniously yanked off his boots and then shoved him hither and yon as he tugged his pants off as well. Eledh showed up with an armload of blankets and tossed several to Halbarad and took the others to Denlad, who had similarly stripped the little three-year-old of her sodden dress. He flipped a blanket expertly around her just as Halbarad did Aragorn. “Up,” Halbarad demanded, then he kicked the bench closer to the fireplace. “Now sit.” He grabbed a towel and started vigorously drying Aragorn’s hair. “That was a brave thing you did, but stupid. You could have drowned.”
Aragorn glanced at the little one, whose lips were still blue but who nonetheless giggled as Denlad tickled her tummy, then he looked at her weeping father who had taken her into his arms. So recently widowed, it would have been a sore blow to have lost his youngest daughter as well. Aragorn swallowed hard. “T’was worth it, Halbarad. Our people have dwindled enough.”
Format: Ficlet, Vignette
Genre: Drama, H/C
Rating: G
Warnings: None, really, unless a warning is needed for mention of OC death
Characters: Aragorn, Halbarad, OCs including Rangers Denlad, Galadh, and Eledh, and the cobbler Maevor, from "A Star In Midwinter"
Pairings: None
Summary: His people have dwindled enough.
“Eledh, quick! Get warm blankets, lots of them!” Halbarad half carried a stumbling and shivering Aragorn into the cottage. Denlad hurried behind, carrying a crying toddler, the cobbler Maevor on his heels. “And get that fire roaring!”
“I’ve got the fire, Eledh. You see to the blankets,” Galadh said. His stricken eyes took in Aragorn and Maevor’s youngest daughter even as he fed more logs onto the fire. “What happened?”
“Little Héniel fell through the ice. Aragorn saved her.” Halbarad pulled at Aragorn’s shirt. “Get these wet clothes off, Strider, before you catch your death.”
“G-get her dried f-first.” He flapped hands he couldn’t feel toward the tail of his shirt, but he couldn’t seem to grasp hold of it.
Halbarad knocked his hands away. “Denlad and Maevor are seeing to the child.” He jerked Aragorn’s tunic over his head. Cold water splattered onto the flagstone hearth. “Now the boots and your breeches.”
Aragorn collapsed onto the bench, and Halbarad unceremoniously yanked off his boots and then shoved him hither and yon as he tugged his pants off as well. Eledh showed up with an armload of blankets and tossed several to Halbarad and took the others to Denlad, who had similarly stripped the little three-year-old of her sodden dress. He flipped a blanket expertly around her just as Halbarad did Aragorn. “Up,” Halbarad demanded, then he kicked the bench closer to the fireplace. “Now sit.” He grabbed a towel and started vigorously drying Aragorn’s hair. “That was a brave thing you did, but stupid. You could have drowned.”
Aragorn glanced at the little one, whose lips were still blue but who nonetheless giggled as Denlad tickled her tummy, then he looked at her weeping father who had taken her into his arms. So recently widowed, it would have been a sore blow to have lost his youngest daughter as well. Aragorn swallowed hard. “T’was worth it, Halbarad. Our people have dwindled enough.”
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