Page 2

by Kree8Tion

©copyright 2001

"How DARE you attack me in such fashion!" Arwen stood staring at the man but could look no further than his eyes. She was caught in the sight of them and no matter how she tried, couldn't pull her gaze from them.

“My dearest Lady. Had I wanted to attack you, I would have done so long before now. It is my understanding that one must first touch another before the word ‘attack’ should be considered?” He spoke more as a question but it was rhetorical in nature. Arwen had no answer.

Arwen watched as the man inched his way closer to her. All she could do was stare.

“Then you … you … intend to rob me?” Arwen held her head straight and made every attempt to show bravery. “I must warn you that my army is within hearing and they would thrash you and burn you at the stake!”

Arwen heard his deep laughter. “Are you referring to the band of short men not but a bird’s call distance from here? I daresay I should be shivering within my boots but alas, I fear them not. Might I …” Aragon’s gaze shifted from Arwen’s eyes down to her waist then back up to meet her gaze again. “Might I make my Lady a suggestion? I swear by my sword I mean you no harm dear Lady.”

He had stopped walking and raised both of his hands in the air in an attempt to show Arwen he carried no weapons within them. Arwen looked at him distrustful but there was something in his words and his eyes that told her she could trust he was speaking the truth.

“Yyyesssssss.” It was only a whisper but Arwen could bring forth no more. Her heart was pounding in her ears and at this moment, couldn’t discern if it was truly from fear or not.

“My Lady might be wise to straighten her skirt ‘ere bandits roaming these woods might … get the wrong impression and think my Lady was making an offer.”

Her skirt? Arwen tilted her head in confusion and had to glance down at her waist to understand what it was he was trying to tell her! “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” She still held her skirt high around her waist and hadn’t even noticed! Hurriedly she arranged herself and her anger began to grow.

“You OAF! You CAD! You … You … OGRE! How DARE you gaze at me like that? You … you ….” Arwen could say no more. She stood with clenched fists and came near to stamping her foot at him. She refused however to make him content with showing him her anger. Turning swiftly on her heels Arwen began walking away from him.

“My Lady! One moment. Please? I meant no insult to you.” Arwen paused a moment considering his words and turned only her head to look at him.

“I fear we have yet to be introduced and I must apologize for my manners. I am Lord Aragon of Manderley.” Lord Aragon accompanied his introduction with another of his exaggerated bows then stood with his chest heaving slightly. “Might I have the pleasure of learning your name?”

Arwen smiled at him. Aragon of Manderley. It had a sweet ring to the sound as she repeated the words in her head. He was indeed handsome but he snuck up on her purposely and she could not forgive such insolence nor such arrogance.

“No Lord Aragon. You may NOT have the pleasure.” Arwen turned forward and walked swiftly away from him. The sound of his laughter moved with her.

When she was certain she was out of his sight, she turned back to make sure he had not followed. She rested on a log and pondered the encounter. Thinking back on what just happened made Arwen once more relive her humiliation and embarrassment. She buried her head in the palms of her hands and did the only sensible thing she could think of. She cried.

Arwen didn’t cry for long. The more she considered the events, the more her shame turned to anger and the more she was able to convince herself it was entirely HIS fault. Standing and brushing smooth her skirt, Arwen decided the best thing to do was to dismiss him altogether. She walked swiftly in the direction she was certain the caravan waited for her.

Arwen walked and walked and finally stood, turning in a circle and gauging her distance from the caravan. She had not remembered the walk to the river taking this long. Had they moved on without her? That was ridiculous and Arwen dismissed that idea as soon as it arrived. Her only conclusion was that she’d started in the wrong direction after meeting Lord Aragon and once again, she blamed him. Now she was hopelessly lost.

Arwen could walk no more. She sat upon the ground and leaned her head against the trunk of a large tree. She was now lost from her Father, Lady Fay, even from Santuro. She was doomed never to see them again. Tears rolled down Arwen’s cheeks and she knew in her heart this was all due to one arrogant man. Lord Aragon.

Arwen sat up straight as an idea formed in her head. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? Reaching under her skirt, Arwen quickly removed the pouch from her waist. She had fewer problems now since she’d long since lost the flower she found and was able to use both hands. She spread her legs open and smoothed the surface of her skirt between them, emptying the contents of her pouch within.

Arwen took hold of the stones and small bones and held them in her cupped hands. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the words for the spell that would show her which direction would lead her to her father. Her mind wandered to a handsome man leaning his shoulder against a tree. Arwen’s eyes popped open. This would NEVER do. She closed her eyes and tried again.

Arwen softly whispered the words and she shook her hands holding the stones and small bones. She thought of her Father as she spoke the chant and found her thoughts were intertwined with that of Lord Aragon. She quickly pictured her Father and tossed the stones.

“Oh!” The stones landed on Arwen’s skirt and she pouted as she read what she saw. HE was WITH her Father! The stones landed and Arwen touched them gently. She knew which way she must now go. She gathered the items and tucked them into her pouch. After standing and retying the pouch to her waist, Arwen began to march. The further she walked, the angrier she became. The angrier she became, the faster she walked. It didn’t take her long before she heard the sounds of the camp and the bustle of dinner preparations.

Arwen marched herself right into the middle of the camp just as twilight was beginning to settle. She followed the sound of her Father’s laughter and didn’t stop until she stood before Lord Aragon. He was leaning against another tree, content as you please, regardless of the fact that he was now invading and preparing to steal from her Father. Arwen spoke not a word. She turned her head upwards, pulled her arm back and closed her fist just as it made contact with his stomach. The slight OOMPH that uttered from his lips was quite satisfying to Arwen. She left him there staring at her in bewilderment and turned to stand beside her Father, draping her arm across her shoulder.

“Father! This man is a thief and he … he …” Arwen wasn’t certain just how much she wanted to divulge to her Father about having met Lord Aragon already. “He’s a thief!”

“Lady … Arwen.” Arwen grinned as Lord Aragon attempted to regain his breath. If there was one thing Arwen had learned, it was the proper area to aim a punch. She had not the strength, but the knowledge was sufficient.

“ARWEN! What have you done? Don’t you know who this is?”

“Oh yes Father. I know QUITE well who this is. He attempted to rob me in the forest and now he plans to do the same to you. Fear not Father. I will protect you.” Arwen emphasized this by gently squeezing his shoulders.

“ARWEN! This is my closest friend’s son! This is Lord Aragon who’s only intent was to welcome us and escort us to the castle. You will apologize this instant!”

Arwen stared at her Father in disbelief. “He …” Arwen’s breath came in short rasps now. “Do you mean he …” Arwen turned to look at Lord Aragon. He was grinning from ear to ear and that only succeeded in making Arwen angrier. First he caused her to be caught with her skirt in the air. THEN he succeeded in getting her lost. THEN!!!!!! He invaded HER caravan and had turned her Father against her! It was more than Arwen could stand. She’d barely had acquaintance with the man for a couple of hours and already her life had turned miserable.

Arwen saw only the anger in her own eyes. She let out a curdling scream and ran towards Lord Aragon again. Her fingernails were outstretched as she aimed for his face. Lord Aragon was ready this time. He grabbed both her wrists and holding them together in one hand, he used his other to grab Arwen’s waist, lifting her completely off the ground.

“Now, now Lady Arwen. Is that any way to treat a good friend?” Arwen kicked her legs and struggled to free her wrists.

“You let go of me you fool! You’re the reason I got lost and now look what you’ve gone and done! YOU LET GO OF ME YOU ARSE!”

Lord Aragon glanced over at Arlo who could only stare at his daughter in disbelief.

“Arlo my friend. Any suggestions?”

Holding the struggling girl, Aragon started walking towards the tent flap. "Excuse us for only a moment. I know that we can settle these differences, in private."  Carrying Arwen to one of the other tents, he glares at the soldiers in attendance. With a nod of his head, they leave, and close the tent flap.

"Now my lady, let us talk." Arwen still struggling, and pounding her fists, Aragon is changing from mildly amused to slightly perturbed at this whirlwind. Moving towards the only chair in the room, he sits down while still holding her about the waist and her wrists in his hand.

Lifting her dress, than all of her petticoats, Arwen's mouth forms an angry pout, which Aragon cannot help but find amusing. But amused or not, he adjusts Arwen across his lap, her legs kicking with an energy he didn't think she possessed. Whisking down her bloomers, he hand-spanks a pink hue into her bare bum.

"And if I see so much as a single sulk or pout from you for the next week, young lady,"' Aragon warns, "you'll be sitting on a pile of pillows until hell freezes!"

To say that Arwen was surprised at the turn of events is an understatement even Merlin would admit to. When Lord Aragon carried her into the tent and Arwen watched, open mouthed, as even the guards moved out of his path, Arwen knew there was trouble indeed.

Within what seemed to be the next moment, Arwen found herself transposed from traveling upside down to being draped over Lord Aragon's lap and her bottom was as bare as the day her Mother had given birth. How humiliating! This only succeeded in making Arwen more angry and she displayed her anger using her legs and fingernails.

This effort proved to be futile as again and again, Lord Aragon used his open hand against her bottom. Arwen screamed all the louder and kicked more fierce in every attempt to stop his assault. Lord Aragon's only response was to grab her securely around her waist to assure Arwen she would not soon be leaving the tent.

"SULK? POUT? I do not sulk NOR do I pout. But be assured Lord Aragon, you will regret this!" Arwen wiggled on Lord Aragon's lap making every attempt to break free. This was ridiculous!

"You unhand me this moment you ... you ... BRUTE!" Arwen closed her fists and began pounding on Lord Aragon's legs. She hadn't been spanked since she was but a small child and there was NO reason for her to be treated this way now! Arwen emphasized this by twisting on Lord Aragon's lap. She'd show him he can't treat her this way. She'd show him!

Carefully he rubs the sting out again. Somewhere the spanks begin to come faster and harder, he stops rubbing the sting away each time. Now just a steady stream of spanks stream down on her bottom. The more
Arwen struggles the tighter Aragon's grip around her waist gets. He holds her firmly holding her into place. Then he stops.

Without warning Aragon lifts his hand CRACKKKKKKKKKKKK! Harshly spanking Arwen, with determination. Setting the fire that is being in her bottom. Waiting barely an instant, he begins to deliver another flurry of burning smacks to her fiery red buttocks. She squirms and begins to beg him to stop.

Once again Aragon begins to rub her bottom in a circular motion with his hand. Trying to extinguish some of the flame of her bottom. Suddenly he lifts hand.

SMACKKKKKKKKKKKKK! "You" SPANKKKKKKKKKKKKK!! "Will"
SMACKKKKKKKKKKK! "Think" SLAPPPPPPPPPPPPPP! "About"
WHACCCCKKKKKKKKK! "Your" CRACKKKKKKKKKKKK! "Actions"
SMACKKKKKKKKKKKK! "From" SLAPPPPPPPPPPPPPP! "Now"
SPANKKKKKKKKKKKK! "On" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Arwen begins to cry real tears, pleading with him to stop. Instead Aragon smacks her several more times
with more force than he had used with any of the others. Determined to make her spanking one to always
remember.

As Aragon helps her to her feet she reaches behind and furiously rubs at the aching pain in her sore bottom. "Now, go to your father and apologize, and then you will apologize to me. Or do we need to continue?"

Little Arwen responds:

Arwen stood before Lord Aragon as her hiccups still resounded through the tent. She couldn't believe what had just happened but as her bottom felt his hands accompanied by his words, Arwen understood his message quite clearly. She had indeed behaved as a child and Lord Aragon had chosen to treat her as one. Arwen stared at the center of his chest, afraid to look up at his face.

Arwen rubbed furiously in every attempt to remove the pain she now wore on her backside. Nothing helped it seemed. She was destined to eat her next meal standing.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Arwen blushed as she realized she'd just spoken loudly to Lord Aragon. "I meant ... to say ... no Lord Aragon. You have no need to continue." Arwen's tears started anew as she looked down and the man seated before her. Her heart pounded as she gazed at his handsomeness and her hands shook in her own shame.

"I'll ... I'll apologize to Father Sir. I ... I ..." Arwen choked on her words. It had been embarrassing to learn she'd acted as a fool and even more embarrassing to stand before this man and admit to it.

Arwen looked up then. She expected to still see anger in Lord Aragon's eyes. She was surprised to find a smile.

"I know you'll do what is right Lady Arwen."

"Yes my Lord. And ... and ..." Arwen wanted to say it but the tears flowed again. Her voice began to crack and her bottom lip shivered. She leaned forward and hugged Lord Aragon.

"I'm sorry Sir. I'll ... think first ... I shall always think first!"

Arwen felt Lord Aragon's arms encircle her in comfort and he gently pulled her to sit upon his knees. Arwen buried her face into his neck and held him tightly.

"Ah my Lady Arwen. You are already forgiven this day. Go now. Speak with your Father and if it pleases you, I would be honored to share your evening meal with you."

Arwen sat up and looked at Lord Aragon.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Yes my Lord. It would please me indeed!" Arwen stood from his lap and walked toward the flap of the tent. She paused, then turned back walking swiftly to him. She bent low and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before turning to leave the tent.

As she walked towards her Father, Arwen considered the events as they'd happened that day. She knelt before her Father and held his hands in hers as she stated her apology and begged his forgiveness. Arlo's forgiving hug was enough to make Arwen's heart soar. As they walked arm in arm towards the supper that awaited them, Arwen's eyes popped open.

Lord Aragon addressed her only as Lady Arwen. Not Little Arwen as all usually did. Not even as just Arwen. Lady Arwen. Arwen spoke the name softly as she walked.

"Lady Arwen." She smiled as she walked.

"You said something my Arwen?" Arlo had stopped walking and turned to look at his daughter. His eyes roamed her face as if in search for something

"No Father. I was just thinking aloud." Arwen patted his hand in comfort and assurance.

"Ah. I see Lord Aragon awaits food. Perhaps we should feed him?"

Arwen turned towards Lord Aragon. He stood, again his shoulder leaning against a tree, seemingly unsure of Arwen's reception of him now. She smiled at him before replying to her Father.

"Yes Father. Feeding him would please me."

Written by the hands of Lord Aragon and Little Arwen:

Aragon watches Arwen, and offers silent thanks to the gods for sending her to him. As she approaches with her father, he stands erect, and smiles at her, slowly moving forward.

"Lady Arwen, may I offer my arm? May I escort you to the supper table?" Holding his arm towards her, he bows to Arlo. "Of course with your permission sire."

Arlo glowed as his eyes rose to the sky for a moment, silently thanking Merlin for sending this gentleman. His Arwen had never been as calm as she was walking beside him towards their meal.

“You have my permission Lord Aragon.” Arlo kissed his daughter’s forehead before giving her a nod of his head.

“By all that Merlin holds dear, could we PLEASE eat soon? I fear I will shrink further without sustenance!”

“SANTURO! MANNERS!” Arlo turned an angry gaze towards Santuro before turning back to Arwen and Lord Aragon. He could see in their eyes what perhaps they had not yet realized themselves.

As Arwen places her hand on his arm, Aragon lets Arlo pass, and follows closely behind. Leaning his head down to Arwen, he whispers. "I took the liberty, the initiative, to place something on your chair, which should make the meal more pleasant."

Arwen blushed as Lord Aragon whispered. Her heart beat loudly in her ears and she wondered if he could feel her hand trembling as it rested on his sleeve.

As they all enter the dining tent, Aragon escorts Arwen to her chair, pulls it slightly out, and looks down. "That pillow contains the finest goose down known to man. I am assured that it will be as if you sit upon clouds."

“Tttthank you my Lord.” Arwen stuttered as everyone must have heard the commotion that went on in the tent. She blushed more so as everyone watched her sit gingerly upon the pillow. It WAS soft indeed and succeeded in easing the pain she now carried.

As Arwen sits, Aragon takes a place beside her, and lifts his goblet, "Fill the cups, as I wish to thank my hosts!"

As the servants move to do his bidding, Aragon watches Arwen closely, etching in his mind each detail about her. When the goblets are filled, Aragon rises from his chair.

"To the good friend of my father, Lord Arlo, and to my new acquaintance, Lady Arwen." Clearing his throat, Aragon looks only at Arwen, and speaks...

”Wine enters one’s mouth,
And love begins with an eye;
That's all that I know for truth.
Before we grow old and die
I lift this cup to my mouth,
gaze at her … and I sigh.”

Taking a sip of the wine, Aragon sits back in his chair, his intentions and feelings expressed.

Arwen stared at her plate and felt her face turn the same color as her bottom must look. Had Lord Aragon just stated he found her pleasing to his eye? Arwen looked around at the faces she loved so dearly. All of them. Her Father, Santuro and even Lady Fay, all had a grin on their faces that confirmed what Lord Aragon just said. Arwen raised her goblet silently, afraid that if she spoke, she would utter the same words aloud that she now knew she felt in her heart.

And you are welcome to email Lord Aragon directly: Lord Aragon