Writing prompt #1

The puppy’s doleful amber eyes looked up at her. Its coat of silk rippled down its chest like a waterfall, begging her fingers to stroke it. She thought how fitting it was that this little one was clothed in silver and black; the wisdom shining from its soul somehow gave the impression that it was an aged king of old.

The puppy’s doleful amber eyes looked up at her. She knew Aragorn felt her anguish; he had always displayed a strange empathy, beyond that of any human or animal of her acquaintance. Shifting her gaze from his sweet and still youthful face to her lifeless legs, she felt a shiver dance up her spine. It was that knowing stare that had compelled her to take him home from the shelter. It was that knowing stare that she had seen a week later upon her return from the hospital after the accident that had robbed her of her ability to walk. It had been three years since they rescued each other and as Aragorn laid his chin gently in her lap, she cried tears of thankfulness.

The puppy’s doleful amber eyes looked up at her. Puppy, that was what she still called him. As the tears burned a trail down her cheeks and fell unchecked onto his now greying muzzle, Aragorn licked her face. His wisdom had only increased as the years had passed. Now came the end, and he knew. He had known from the start that he was meant for her; that she needed him to help her heal from the loss of her husband and the loss of her mobility. They had grown old together in the last 13 years. She lamented the swiftness with which the years had taken their leave and her heart ached for more time. She spoke softly to him as he drew his final breaths, “We’ll meet again soon, Puppy. Don’t think you had me fooled. I knew you were an angel sent down for me from the start. I’ll be home before too long.” Heaving a final sigh, Aragorn slept.