All right, this completely passed the five-hundred word limit... erm... let's say a prompt-inspired ficlet :-)

This idea came to me so fast it nearly knocked me down. Now, I myself always imagined Aragorn as one to do his own things and not bother anyone for his own needs. This includes doing his own things even as king. Whatever you think, I hope you all enjoy this humorous prompt :-)

I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas!

Prompt 25: Hunger
Fic: A Quick Bite
Rating: G
3019 TA, Minas Tirith

It was Autumn, and though the days were still warm, they were now becoming colder as Winter made its way in. The city of Minas Tirith, however, was better than it had been for many, many years. Despite the coming of the cold season, the people were happy, for the Dark Lord that had haunted their borders for so long was gone forever, and once more they had a king.

It was still night, and the Sun had still a little bit more time before she appeared over the eastern mountains. It was at this time that the King of Gondor suddenly awoke. At first, he was not sure what had disturbed his peaceful rest, but then he heard it. His stomach growled at him once more, and Aragorn resisted a groan. He would never be able to fall back asleep with his stomach growling at him, especially since there was food available nearby. Somehow his stomach knew this.

Careful not to awaken his wife, Aragorn got out of bed. He quickly put on some clothes, got on his boots, and left their private rooms. Quietly the Dúnadan stole through the halls, coming only upon a couple in the early morning hours who did not recognize him in the dim lighting of the hallways.

Soon after Aragorn had been made king, he had spent a day exploring the whole Citadel. He wanted to know his new home as well as he had known previous places he had resided in; it gave him some sort of comfort to know his surroundings well. As it was, his tour of his home had included the kitchens, so he knew exactly where he needed to go.

Within a few minutes of quickly walking through his home, he came to the kitchens. Other than a couple dim lanterns hanging upon the walls, the huge room was completely dark.

However, he did not let this daunt him. Stiffening a yawn, he entered the room, went to the nearest cupboards, and opened them. Bowls, not food. He glanced around the room, trying to find the most logical place for a pantry. He spotted a wooden door near the back of the kitchens, and quickly made his way to it. He yanked it open, and a big smile spread across his features. Food.

His stomach seemed to know that he was right next to a food source, for it growled in eager anticipation. Aragorn scanned quickly through the pantry, looking for a suitable midnight snack. Finding an apple barrel, he opened it, obtained one of its contents, and took a large bite out of the juicy fruit.

His stomach was very, very happy.

He put the lid back on the barrel, left the pantry, and silently closed the door behind him. Satisfied with the apple, he started to turn around when he heard a sharp voice behind him.

"Just what do you think you are doing?"

Aragorn froze, suddenly feeling as if he had committed a heinous crime. The small part of his mind that was awake pointed out that he was being ridiculous, but when one sneaks food in the middle of the night and is caught, one cannot help but feel a sort of incredible guilt.

He slowly turned around, and saw a woman- one of the cooks, he assumed- a shawl around her shoulders, a lit candle in her hand, and a deep scowl on her face. He was in a darker part of the room, so she could not see who he was.

However dark it was, she still saw that he had some type of fruit in his hand, and her scowl deepened. "Stealing food from the kitchens, I see!" She started to approach him, anger clearly on her face. "I would expect such behavior from a boy, not a man! I do not know who you think you are, but if you think you can come in here at such an hour and just help yourself, then you-" She suddenly stopped mid-sentence when the small flame of her candle lit up the face of the thief, and her scowl turned into a look of horror and despair. "Oh... oh... my lord, I did not realize..."

Aragorn raised his hand. "Be at peace, madam. I did not realize that the kitchens were off-limits."

"Oh, no, no, never to you, sire!" she said quickly, shaking her head. "But you should have called one of the servants if you desired something, my lord."

"I would not awaken another for my own trivial needs at such an hour," the king responded. When the woman looked as if she were to protest this, he added, "For all my life I have helped myself. I would not change that." He gave her a small smile. "And sometimes a short walk helps me clear my mind and allows me to sleep better."

Her protests died down, and finally, she nodded. "Well, if you insist, my lord. However, we are here to serve you, whenever you need us," she pointed out.

"I shall keep that in mind," he said with a small bow of his head. "If you shall excuse me, madam, I shall head back to my rooms."

"Oh, of course, of course!" she said, moving out of the way and managing to curtsy at the same time. "Sleep well, my lord."

"Good night, madam." Taking another bite of the apple, the king left the kitchens, with the woman looking after him.

'An odd one, our lord is,' thought she. 'An odd one, but a good man.'