§ In a hole in the ground their lived a Oneshot§ My LOTR/The Hobbit oneshots.

°Aragorn x reader {The Benefits of a Protective King}

She begins dabbing around the area, causing you to let a hiss out from betwixt your teeth. "In defence of myself, I was unaware of the poison."

~

Unbeknownst to both you and Vera, the problem of telling Aragorn, called Estel, would not come to pass. For already is he informed and strides with long pace beside Boromir.

Boromir who, though he shows no sign of it, is quite worried. In many battles he has fought with his now king, but never has he seen this expression on his face.

The king of Gondor looks murderous.

Aragorn has always carried a ruged yet regal aura, somewhat intimidating, one that makes all around him willing to follow, to obey, and to trust.

The air of such is still present, but also is an undercurrent of threat. And though he will never speak of it, Boromir is afraid.

It is an irrational fear, as he is certainly not the one whom ordered the attack on you, and yet he cannot chase the discomfort away.

The guards infront of the cell jolt at the appearance of their King and Captain, bowing stiffly they open the doors at Aragorn's commanding motion.

Inside is a pitifully ragtag group of four men and one woman. One of the men has his shirt compleatly removed and a thick bandage wrapped around his chest, the rest sport less cotton but look no less miserable.

At the sight of Aragorn they all jerk to sitting positions, each with differant levels of pain. "Oh King, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

The look Aragorn gives the red haired man is eerily similar to the one he'd given the mouth of Sauron, and that hadn't exactly gone well for him.

Cutting past any pleasantries, Aragorn stares at the man. "You are the leader?" At his tentive nod Aragorn inclines his head. "Come here, we need to talk. What is your name, and why have you come into my city with ill intent?"

The man's demeanour remains flippant as he introduces himself as 'Traydor' however this is not Boromir's first, nor is Aragorn an unobservant man, and they both note the sweat on Traydor's forehead and the slight tremor of his hand.

"To my first query you have given answer," Aragorn speaks, in a tone so cold that the man with the bandaged chest shivers. "And yet my second goes unanswered."

"I should think our intent was obvious, King Aragorn."

Boromir takes a step back as the sword of Elendil flashes through the air and lands against the throat of Traydor, who's eyes widen. "It is not in my nature to make empty threats, so I give to you one more chance; explain in full why you have entered my halls and put in danger one who holds my favour."

In the momentary silence, Boromir has the fleeting thought that Aragorn would probably not be holding a sword to the neck of a prisoner had it been him who'd been threatened, but then, he reasons, Boromir would rather remain a Spector of the long looks Aragorn sent to you, and not the recipient.

The silence dissolves with the broken tone of the man on the cott. "Traydor please. Dont let your pride take you from me?"

Traydor swallows agaist the unwavering blade agaist his person. "Fine! I will speak, but only because my husband pleads." He sends an anoyed, yet endearing, glance at mentioned man as Aragorn removes the blade from his neck.