Dream of Loss

by Henrika

Website: Lord of the Rings - my Gandalf slash fiction and art

Rating: NC-17 for m/m sex.

Pairing: Gandalf/Aragorn

Summary: A few nights before the quest, Aragorn has a nightmare about losing his lover.

Disclaimer: They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, not me. I make no money of this.

Author's note: This may sound odd, but I re-watched Matrix Reloaded a couple of nights ago, and was inspired to write this fic. Many thanks to Nefertiti for an excellent beta-job and a title suggestion!


Aragorn woke up with a jerk, and found himself completely covered in cold sweat. It took a while before he realized what time it was and even where he was. It was still night; the room was dark except for the modest light of stars that filtered through the curtains.

The Man slowly breathed out and allowed his taut body to relax. A dream. It had only been a dream, and everything was alright, but just to make sure he turned his head to regard the dim shape of Gandalf that lay beside him in the large bed.

The wizard was still soundly asleep and didn't seem to have been disturbed by Aragorn's nightmare. Gandalf lay curled against the Man's larger body, resting his silver head on his arm. Aragorn smiled to himself from pure relief and raised one hand to stroke his lover's hair. The ancient Istar looked so peaceful and innocent while sleeping, and somehow much younger, because many of the lines in his wise, old face were smoothed out during the night and became less obvious.

Aragorn, waiting for his heart to start beating normally again, sank back against the pillows and closed his eyes, attempting to go back to sleep, but he soon found out that that was impossible. He needed fresh air and maybe even something to eat or drink to erase the awful images of the nightmare from his mind.

Gently he disentangled from Gandalf's sleeping form. The wizard was naked under the covers like Aragorn himself, and before getting up the Man lightly traced his fingers along Gandalf's spine. His lover trembled at the touch and murmured something unintelligible in his sleep, but showed no signs of waking up.

Aragorn rose from the bed and pulled on a pair of leggings. Before he left the large bedroom, he turned around to gaze at Gandalf one last time. He knew it was ridiculous, of course, but a part of him was not comfortable with leaving Gandalf alone, if only for a few minutes. Aragorn silently cursed his stupid, unjustified fear.

It was just a dream, he reminded himself. Nothing is going to happen. Gandalf is not in any danger. Everything is alright.

The ranger left the room and softly closed the door so as not to disturb anyone. The halls of Imladris were airy and chilly and had a calming effect on his tense body and worried soul. They would set out on their quest for Mount Doom in just a few days, and presumably that added to the feeling, but there was also something else that Aragorn couldn't quite put his finger on.

He had had several nightmares in the past few weeks, but none as clear as this one. Dreams were only dreams, but this time he had explicitly seen very bad things happening to his lover, and it scared him more than any of the earlier ones.

Aragorn knew that he loved the grey wizard dearly, and losing him would be unbearable. Arwen, the beautiful daughter of Lord Elrond, was his betrothed of many years, and he knew she would make a good wife when the time came, yet he was sure that his heart belonged to Gandalf. First he had tried to convince himself that it was not love, just the need for physical intimacy - something the Elf lady would not grant him before they were married - but he had given up that delusion long ago. What he felt for Gandalf was love, and nothing less.

Most of the people around him knew of his intimate physical relationship with the Istar, including Arwen and Lord Elrond, who had given their consent and said that they did not see it as cheating as long as he did not take another woman to his bed. They did not, however, know anything about his true feelings for the wizard, as Aragorn had been very careful not to show them to anybody.

The ranger wandered through the quiet, empty halls toward Elrond's kitchen area. He was quite sure no one would be there at this hour, and he was hoping to make himself some herbal tea that could help him relax.

The kitchen was empty, as he had predicted, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. This was really not the time for any socializing, because he needed time alone to collect his thoughts.

Aragorn put the kettle on to boil water and sat down by Elrond's large marble table while waiting for it. It was late November, and after a while the air started to feel a bit too chilly against the bare skin of his upper body. He shivered.

I must not get ill now, days before the quest, he told himself. I'll have some tea, and then I'll go back, hopefully before Gandalf can wake up and discover that I am gone.

He wanted to have his lover in his arms again as soon as possible, feel the weight of his slight body, inhale his scent, and kiss his beautiful, lined face. They had already made love once in the evening, but Aragorn realized he would not object to a second time. All he needed now was Gandalf's closeness.

Aragorn considered leaving the empty kitchen and going back to his bedroom, even before his tea was ready. He wasn't really longing for tea anymore, and besides he was starting to get cold. Gandalf and his bed could cure that in the blink of an eye.

The ranger was just about to stand up when he heard quiet, padding footsteps slowly approaching. Expecting one of the Rivendell elves, he was surprised to see Gandalf entering, wearing a silken bathrobe, tied loosely around his slender waist. He was barefoot, like Aragorn himself.

The wizard gave his lover a gentle smile and went to sit opposite him by the large table.

"You can't sleep?" Gandalf asked concerned, trying to catch Aragorn's gaze, despite that the ranger did his best to avoid looking at him.

Aragorn quietly shook his head.

"Why, love? Is something wrong?" Gandalf reached out his hand across the table and put it atop the Man's. Aragorn's hand twitched slightly.

"No, I'm alright," he replied, trying to conceal his true feelings from his lover. He knew that would be hard, though. Gandalf had known him since he was young and could surely read him like an open book.

"How did you know I was here?"

Gandalf smiled again. "Call it 'wizardly intuition'. Would you like to talk?"

Aragorn shrugged, trying but failing to look unconcerned. "It was just a dream," he murmured, still avoiding the wizard's gaze.

"A dream?" Gandalf asked. "A bad dream, I assume?"

The ranger nodded.

"Will you tell me about it, dear?" Gandalf squeezed his younger lover's hand reassuringly, trying his best to get him to open up. The frightened, pained expression on Aragorn's face concerned him more than he was willing to admit, and it grieved him that his lover seemed unwilling to confide in him. That had never happened before.

"I don't know if..."

Gandalf's lowered his eyes. He was beginning to understand. "Was it about me?" he asked.

Aragorn gave an almost imperceptible nod. He couldn't make himself lie to Gandalf, and he also thought that Gandalf, if anyone, had the right to know.

"I saw..." he began, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. He decided to be frank. "I saw you. There was fire. Much fire. An abyss, darkness... You started to fall. Then I woke up."

Gandalf's gnarled hand that lay atop Aragorn's trembled slightly. The wizard could feel a cold shiver running down the length of his spine, and he was no longer sure how to handle the situation. Dreams were only dreams, after all, but when he saw how strongly it affected Aragorn, he couldn't help wondering if there was something more to it than that.

"If you are you afraid..." the wizard began but was interrupted by Aragorn.

"It is the quest, I suppose. General nervousness. Having the One Ring so close..."

"I know you are strong enough to resist its call," Gandalf assured him. "That does not worry me. We all are."

Aragorn buried his face in his hands and dreaded the question he wanted to ask Gandalf. He wanted to, but at the same time he could not do it. His lover would never agree to it. Besides it was a selfish request, and neither he nor Gandalf liked selfish people.

Gandalf slowly rose from his chair and walked around the table to stand behind Aragorn and put his arms around him for comfort. Neither of them spoke. The ranger turned around to wrap his arms around the Istar's waist and rest his dark head against his smooth, silk-clad belly. For a moment he wanted to give in to his feelings and start crying in his lover's gentle arms, but of course he didn't, because that would have been embarrassing. Gandalf and everyone else expected him to be strong, and he must not disappoint them.

After some time Gandalf detached himself from the embrace and walked over to the boiling kettle water.

"Would you still like some tea?" he asked while taking out two cups.

Aragorn nodded mutely while trying to recover his composure. He knew he could not ask Gandalf to do what he had in mind, so he might as well forget everything. It was just a dream, after all, and it was not like him to get all wound-up because of something he had merely dreamt. He had had many bad dreams over the years, and so far none of them had come true.

Gandalf poured their drinks and went back to sit by the table. Aragorn gratefully accepted the cup and started sipping his tea. It was a bit too hot, but he hoped it would be able to soothe the cold, empty feeling in his chest.

The wizard took a few sips from his own cup before rising again and walking over to the window to regard the beautiful autumn landscapes. Despite the fact that the days were still sunny and mostly warm, the nights were not, and he was beginning to feel the cold in his bare feet. Still, he did not want to go back just yet. Not before Aragorn was feeling better, anyway. While standing at the window, he tried to think of a way to reassure his lover. He could think of nothing good. There was also a faint sensation that gnawed at him and made him wonder if there could be any truth to Aragorn's dream.

Suddenly Gandalf felt a pair of strong arms enveloping him from behind, and then a wet mouth that sought out the most sensitive spot in his neck, beneath his white mane of hair. He started briefly, because he had not heard Aragorn's approach, but that feeling quickly turned into bliss. He leaned back against the Man, allowing his eager hands to explore his body through the soft, flimsy fabric. Aragorn began by tweaking his nipples and rolling them between his fingertips until they were hard peaks. Gandalf moaned at the erotic stimulation and felt blood rushing quickly to his groin-area.

Aragorn did not stop at that, however. He passed his hands downward, over Gandalf's flat belly, until he found the wizard's now fully erect member. He gave the large organ a teasing squeeze before starting to undo the sash that kept Gandalf's robe together.

The Istar murmured something in protest when his lust-clouded brain registered that they were in fact still in the kitchen of Imladris. It was night, yes, but that didn't mean some wakeful elf couldn't come in and catch them red-handed in the act.

"Shh..." Aragorn purred in his ear. "Now let me... I know you want this as much as I do."

Gandalf gave in and let his hands drop to his sides, allowing Aragorn to open his bathrobe and take his erection into his strong grip. The wizard had to moan at the sensation. He leaned back against his lover and tilted his head, exposing his neck to the man's hungry kisses. Aragorn moved his other hand up again and used it to slide the robe down Gandalf's shoulders. The garment fell into a heap around their feet, but Gandalf barely noticed it. All he could focus on was Aragorn's amazing kisses and caresses.

Suddenly the ranger dropped to his knees behind the wizard, and Gandalf could feel a hot tongue against the small of his back and then two hands that spread his buttocks. He gasped sharply when he felt light pressure on his furrowed little hole and had to lean against the windowsill for support. Aragorn wasn't going to take him now, was he, in the middle of the night, in the kitchen of Rivendell? Although Lord Elrond approved of their relationship, he would certainly not be happy to find his future son-in-law taking Gandalf the Grey from behind in his own kitchen!

Gandalf was going to object, but instead of Aragorn's fingers he could soon feel his tongue tracing lightly over his cleft.

By the Valar! The wizard wasn't sure how to react. They had done much during their time together, both in bed and elsewhere, but this was certainly something that had never happened before! The hot tongue returned, and this time it did not stop but begged entrance to his tight channel.

Aragorn lavishly licked around the little pucker before slipping his tongue inside. He received an appreciative groan from the wizard in reply, and that encouraged him to continue the unusual, though arousing act. Using his left hand to roll and squeeze Gandalf's testicles, he then slipped the index finger of his right hand into the wizard to seek out his pleasure spot. The area was already slick with saliva, so he didn't have to worry about lubrication.

"Oh, yes... that's it..." Gandalf whispered, pushing back against Aragorn in bliss. The Man smiled and reached out his hand to pump the wizard's hard, weeping erection. His own cock felt ready to burst in his trousers, which suddenly felt anything but loose. He would have liked to stand up and bury himself in his lover's willing body, but despite this he realized that he would cause Gandalf pain due to lack of lubricant. Saliva might be enough for a finger or two, but Gandalf definitely deserved something better.

The wizard's large, weeping organ twitched in his hand, and he knew that meant that Gandalf was close to climaxing.

"Gandalf... turn around..." he whispered, tugging slightly at the wizard's hips to emphasize his request.

Gandalf slowly complied and buried his trembling hand in Aragorn's hair when the Man's face came level with his achingly hard cock. Aragorn didn't hesitate a second but took the jutting erection into his mouth and started sucking greedily, massaging his lover's sac with both hands.

The wizard did his best to keep his cries down, as he was still well aware that they were in fact doing this in a public place. With Aragorn's skilled mouth working on him, it was impossible for Gandalf to hold back. He came with a muffled groan, filling the Man's mouth with his semen. He had already climaxed once this night, so this time it was less powerful but no less enjoyable.

Aragorn swallowed all of the wizard's come, not letting a single droplet escape. The taste was slightly bitter, but he had gotten used to it a long time ago, and no longer considered it disgusting. Gandalf always swallowed his come, but despite that, he had never demanded that Aragorn do the same for him. The old wizard was a very gentle and considerate lover, and that was one reason why the ranger had grown to love him over the years.

Briefly Aragorn wondered if Arwen would let him come in her mouth. He chuckled at the thought. Probably not. He'd heard from others that some females were unwilling to do it, and Arwen was a virginal Elf, not some common wench.

Gandalf let his head fall back when the post-orgasmic weariness came over him, and his hand fell from Aragorn's hair. He drew a few heavy breaths, leaning against the cool windowsill as he anxiously gazed toward the doorway. No one had caught them in the act so far, but he was still feeling far from safe. If they continued this, it would have to be in Aragorn's chambers.

The ranger rose to his full height and enveloped Gandalf's smaller frame in his arms. The wizard fell heavily against him, still not fully recovered from the breathtaking orgasm. Gandalf could feel his lover's rampant erection poking his stomach, and though he wanted nothing more than to feel it in his mouth or inside him, he realized he needed to rest for a few minutes.

Aragorn brushed the wizard's thick, wavy hair back from his damp face. "What now, old man? Already tired?" he chuckled teasingly.

Gandalf returned the mock insult by squeezing Aragorn's rock-hard cock. "Oh, but you wait, young man! You are the one who's going to get it!"

Without a forewarning Aragorn suddenly bent down and scooped Gandalf's slim, naked body into his arms and threw the laughing wizard over his broad shoulder. Gandalf squirmed, pretending to fight him as Aragorn left the kitchen with long strides and headed for his chambers. Gandalf's unsuccessfully stifled laughter filled the quiet, empty halls, accompanied by the soft, padding sound of the Man's bare feet.

Aragorn reached the bedroom a couple of minutes later, still with Gandalf slung over his shoulder. He approached the bed and gently dumped the naked wizard among the muddled bedclothes. Gandalf was still chuckling, and now there was also a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

Quickly stripping off his leggings, Aragorn joined Gandalf in the bed, closing his arms around him. "I was going to get what?" he whispered hotly in the wizard's ear.

"Well, what do you want, my love?" Gandalf asked, though the question itself was superfluous. They both knew what Aragorn wanted.

"To be inside you," the Man replied gravely, looking deeply into the wizard's soulful eyes.

Gandalf smiled and invitingly opened his legs, allowing Aragorn to settle between them. He could feel the Man's erection nudging his own now flaccid shaft before sliding lower to rest against his creased entrance. The thought of that long, thick cock filling him completely and bumping his internal gland sent thrills through Gandalf's weary body, and heat started rushing to his groin despite his earlier orgasm only minutes ago.

The Istar lay back against the pillows and attentively regarded the Man when he rose to his knees to pick up the small vial of oil from their bedside table. They had already used it once before in the evening, and now they would use it again. Aragorn poured a generous amount of oil into his hand and used his fingers to smear it over and around Gandalf's opening. Sliding one, then two and finally three digits into the wizard to prepare him for the intercourse, the ranger noted that stretching had not been necessary this time. Gandalf was already as relaxed as he could get.

Aragorn then coated his own member and positioned himself to enter Gandalf, leaning over him with most of his weight supported by his arms. Gandalf nodded to say he was ready, and the Man pushed past the loosened right of muscle and slid his cock fully into the wizard. He was well-endowed, but he knew Gandalf could take all of him, so there was no need to be overly careful.

Gandalf groaned in ecstasy when he was penetrated and wrapped his thin arms around Aragorn's neck, pressing their sweat-slick bodies together and loving the way his own beard and Aragorn's chest hairs tickled his nipples.

The Man started riding the wizard hard, pulling back almost entirely before thrusting back in to the hilt. Gandalf whimpered with need and wrapped his legs around Aragorn's hips to pull him even deeper in. The hard strokes touched that special place inside him, not every time, but often enough to make him cry out and clutch the Man's shoulders, so firmly as to leave marks. He loved the hard, solid weight of Aragorn's body pressing down on him, though he suspected that the ranger held back because he was afraid of hurting the smaller wizard. Gandalf smiled. It was a common belief among Men that he was fragile, mostly due to his aged appearance and slender, light body. He had, however, assured Aragorn that his physical strength was equal to the Man's own, if not greater.

Aragorn pushed Gandalf's long, bushy beard aside with his nose, so he could get access to the throbbing veins running along the wizard's throat. Gandalf's heart was beating as rapidly as his own was right now. Aragorn licked the sensitive skin around his lover's Adam's apple, pleased to detect a hiss in the Istar's breath. His nibbling, although gentle, was sure to leave "love marks", as they were called, but luckily those were very hard to detect past Gandalf's long beard.

Gandalf knew when Aragorn's climax was near and prepared to flex his internal muscles in exactly the right moment to enhance the Man's experience. With the orgasm gradually building inside him, Aragorn finally came after one last thrust into his lover's depths, and filled his bowels with his seed. Gandalf himself did not climax again, but the act had still brought him much pleasure.

Still embedded in the wizard's tight heat, Aragorn collapsed on top of him and waited for his heart to start beating normally. It had been really intense. Preferably he wanted to fall asleep there and then, but he knew that his weight gave Gandalf trouble breathing, so a short time later he rolled off the wizard, simultaneously sliding out of him.

Suddenly the image of Gandalf beside him, naked, spent and blissful, was mingled with the image of the Istar falling into a dark abyss from Aragorn's dream, and the Man had to turn his face away.

Gandalf, now concerned, crawled even closer to his lover and gently cupped his face in his hands.

"My love, is something wrong?" he asked, trying to caress the pained countenance away.

Aragorn just pulled him close, held him to his chest and then kissed the top of his white head.

"I... just can't lose you, Gandalf..." he whispered, now realizing he loved the wizard more than his own life. A life without him would be unbearable.

"Lose me? You are not going to lose me, my love. I am here for you. I always will be. Trust me."

"Gandalf..."

"It's alright, you can tell me," the wizard said gently, looking deep into the ranger's sorrowful eyes.

"Gandalf... What if... what if I asked you to do something..."

"Aragorn, I promise you that if I can, I will."

"Don't go on the quest, Gandalf. Stay here, or some other place where you are safe."

A bemused frown formed on Gandalf's face. "Why?" he asked.

"Please?" Aragorn pleaded, despite knowing that Gandalf would never agree to it.

"I can't make that promise, and you know that. I am needed on the quest," Gandalf replied gravely. "Frodo needs me, and..."

Aragorn nodded ruefully. It was the answer he had expected, but it still hurt to hear it.

"It was silly of me to ask," he admitted. "Forget I said anything."

"If you are concerned for my well-being..."

"It's just that... I don't want you to get hurt."

"I can look after myself," Gandalf reassured him. "You needn't worry."

"Oh, Gandalf..."

The wizard wrapped both arms around Aragorn's chest and buried his head in the hollow between the Man's head and shoulder. It fit perfectly.

"Can you feel this? Can you feel me?" he whispered, and could feel Aragorn nodding. "I have you now, and I am not letting go. Ever."

"Nor I... I love you..."

Gandalf just smiled. "I know you do, my boy. I love you too. I'm sure you know that."

Dawn was coming in the east, and the two lovers slept through the remainder of the night undisturbed.

The end