Title: Aragorn and a Hobbit
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own LotR and am making no money off of this.
Summary: Aragorn runs into a lost Hobbit, Kestrel, on the road between the Shire and Bree. A very short one-shot fic. The usual :-P
A/N: Lol thanks to the dream world because this entire fic came to me in a dream (no I'm not obsessed, I swear!). Any mistakes are because I typed this at 2 AM. I think my beta caught them all, though. Thankies to her! R/R! No flames, s'il vous plaît, they'll only serve to further my pyromania *eg*
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The sun shined brightly in a clear blue sky overhead as Aragorn strode along the road toward the Shire. A cool autumn breeze stirred his hair. All in all a beautiful day to visit his friend, Farmer Cotton, whom he had not seen for quite a spell.
The Ranger felt a slight tug on the back of his long jacket, but ignored it, continuing on his way. There it came again, this time accompanied by a quiet voice, 'Allo? Big Person, sir!
Startled, Aragorn turned to see a young Hobbit, barely in his tweens, staring up at him. Hello. You can call me
'Allo, Strider, said the Hobbit. I'm Kestrel Meadowman. I was just visiting a cousin of mine over in Bree, but I've become lost. I think I took a wrong turn somewhere. Can you help me find my way?
I'm actually in a bit of a hurry, but you can come along if you'd like, and I can help you home after.
The Hobbit grinned. Sure! Where are we going?
To visit an old friend of mine, Farmer Cotton. He lives not far from here.
They started walking together along the dusty road. In the manner of young Hobbits, Kestrel chattered on amicably as if he and Aragorn were old friends. Aragorn learned that Kestrel, the youngest son of a shepherd, had never before been abroad on his own and that his sense of direction was roughly equivalent to that of a drunken toadstool. He had only managed to make it to Bree because his brother had gone along with him. Unfortunately, his brother had decided to stay on with their cousin, but Kestrel had to return for soon their father would be missing his help.
Is this it? the Hobbit asked as they turned off the road and onto a narrow, overgrown country lane. He could see the roofs of a small hut, granary, and barn, though they appeared giant to him, as did all Big Folk buildings.
Aragorn nodded as a short, round man rushed forward from the barn to embrace him tightly. Strider! Long time no see!
Aye, Farmer Cotton. How have you been? the Ranger replied with a grin.
Good, good. And who is this fellow?
The Hobbit made a slight bow. I'm Kestrel Meadowman, and I'm merely a lost traveler whom Strider was kind enough to help home.
the farmer smiled warmly at him. Turning to Aragorn once more, the men returned to catching up with each other since they had last met many years ago. The young Hobbit's attention span soon waned.
Ever-curious, Kestrel wandered to the end of the freshly planted field where the warm, dry tilled earth met damp, soft virgin soil of the wood. He peered through the thick brush, intrigued by the concealing shade beneath the leafy canopy. To his surprise, three pairs of large golden eyes peered back at him. A mother fox sat with her young pups, looking about as surprised as he. thought Kestrel. The vixen lifted the smaller of the two and dashed off with the larger pup mewling at her heels.
Kestrel stepped forward, having half a mind to follow the small family. Suddenly, a giant spider lowered itself to the forest floor in front of him, it's huge clacking fangs dripping clear venom.
cried the Hobbit. He raced back to where Strider stood, the spider skittering along close behind.
He dove behind the Ranger as he drew his long sword against the spider. Panicking, Kestrel drew his own (actually, it was merely a large dagger). He waved it wildly in front of him, barely missing Strider's leg. Despite the man's cry of admonition, Kestrel continued to wave the blade crazily, somehow managing to hack off one of the creature's eight spiny legs.
With a cry, Strider drove his blade deep into the spider's head between its many eyes. The beast fell still.
Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief, nodding to Farmer Cotton, who had hid himself by the wagon, that the danger had passed. Then he glanced down at the trembling Hobbit who had attached himself to the man's waist. Calm yourself. It's okay. The spider's dead. No response. Strider raised an eyebrow. You can get off. Now. Please, he ground out as he pried the Hobbit from himself. If only the lad had used that strength against the spider! thought Aragorn, amazed at the clinging power of the small being.
Kestrel looked up at him with large brown eyes. Can I go home now?
~* Fin *~