Title: Accosted
Prompt 1: Lost
Author: Maranwe
Rating: G
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, locations, etc., belong to their original creator. I make no money from the creation of this fic. It is intended for entertainment only.
A/N: These ficlets are all inspired by the weekly prompts at the yahoo!group Aragorn Angst. Most of them will be around 500 words, in accordance with the rules, but some are longer. They stand alone and are not connected in any way with my previous stories, and sometimes not with each other, but most of them exist in the same general universe. I think.

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There was something disarming about a small child with large eyes and rosy lips – especially if tears sheen the eyes and protruded lower lip trembled. Such a look, bestowed with utter trust, would crumble a heard of stone.

Strider, Ranger of the North and Chieftain of the Dunedain had been accused of many things, but so far not that.

With an inward grimace and a small smile, Strider pushed away his haste – his tidings were not so urgent they couldn't be delayed a few hours – and knelt before the child who had accosted him with fearless confidence and devastating tears – even if they had yet to fall.

"What is it, child?"

The lower lip trembled harder. "I c-can't find Mama or P-papa."

"I see. Where do you lat see them?"

The child turned and pointed.

Strider followed the small finger with his eyes, and sighed. She could be indicating any stall or shop along the market. He gained his feet. "Let us see if we can find them, shall we?" He held out his hand, but instead of taking it the child raised hers.

With another sigh, he consented and lifted her easily onto his hip.

Picking a shop at random, Strider found one of the workers and stopped him with a touch. "Good sir, do you know this child?"

When the man turned to her, she buried her face in Strider's overcoat before peeking out shyly at the man who peered at her, his head thrust forward on his thin neck. "Oh, aye." He nodded. "That's Korvil's daughter, that is. Jesibelle."

"Do you know where I can find him?"

"Eh – you might try the Blacksmith."

Korvil wasn't at the blacksmith's, though he had been. The soot-covered man suggested the tanner. The tanner, who had bid him farewell near an hour earlier, suggested the baker. The baker suggested the cobbler.

Strider was just thinking he could run around the whole town and never catch sight of the child's parents when a woman's cry split the air.

"Jesi!"

The child perked at her name and stretched out her arms. Strider stopped and turned, and the girl twisted in his arms to keep her mother – for that was who he believed the approaching woman had to be – in view.

"Let go of my child!" the woman demanded, fairly shrieked, but she paid him no mind and snatched her child from his willing arms before he could reply, wrapping the girl in a tight embrace that the child returned happily, now crying.

Strider pulled his cloak closer around him a bowed. "Good day, my lady."

He left the town with remonstrations about "that horrid man" in his ears. But when he chanced a last glance over his shoulder, he saw the girl watching him, her face still wet, and when she saw him watching her, she waved.

He waved back, and ignored the scowls that followed him from the village with a small, rather rueful, smile.