Title: When You are Hated the Most
Author: Niniel
Beta: Lucy Sutton
Rating: PG-13 (just to be sure)
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Tolkien
Summary: Aragorn is on his way home, but on the way he encounters something he did not expect and learns a valuable lesson.
Warning: Slight bodily hurt (nothing really)
Authors Note: I got the inspiration to write this after a very nasty flame/review I got for a fic I've written, so you see good things can come from the most unlikely places.
#thoughts#
"Speech"
When You are Hated the Most"You dirty little human brat!" the man shouted in his face "So you think you are so much better then the rest of us, just because you were brought up by them elves!" Aragorn could feel the man's breath on his chin as the big brute held him down. "Well I'll teach you something else!" The man shouted. Why did he have to shout, Aragorn thought. His head hurt so much already and he didn't need for this man to make it worse. With those words the man started to pound oh Aragorn's already hurting body, but he could do nothing else than just lying there, he was too weakened to even begin to think of fighting back.
It had all begun in the most stupid way actually. Aragorn was on his way back from one of his first adventures with the rangers, and for the first time he had persuaded Faron to not follow him all the way, so he had been just outside of Bree. He had been quite tired and had decided to stay in Bree for the night even though it was not completely dark yet. Tomorrow would be soon enough to return to his father, and he would rather return rested and not come home exhausted as he usually did.
Though now it seemed that he would come home in an even worse condition than if he had just continued on. This whole idea had been bad from the beginning, he thought as the man sitting on his back and holding him down continued to let his large fists pound him from every angel. It was actually fascinating how many ways pain could be inflicted on the human body, Aragorn thought grimly.
He had easily found a small tavern where he could rent a room for the night. As soon as he had brought up his bag full of his few belongings he had goon down into the taproom to get a hot meal and ale before he went to bed.
The barmaid had soon brought him his stew and ale and he sat down in a corner intend on enjoying his meal in quiet. He didn't want to be social tonight, he only wanted to go quietly about his business and then go to bed and sleep a few hours before setting his course towards Imladris. But that was not going to be.
While he had been sitting and eating he had suddenly heard a voice that rose above the rest of them, and what he heard was not something that he wished to hear, but he chose to let it pass, these people were just ignorant peasants who had had a little too much ale, and knew too little about the elves of Middle Earth. He only thought it was a pity that they thought so poorly of his adoptive father and his race as their talking suggested.
If he had wanted to he could have told them how many times the elves had indeed saved them without them even knowing, like last year when raiding marauders had threatened the northern parts Lord Elrond had sent out warriors to stop them, and the raiders had never reached Bree, but two immortal lives had been lost to the cause. Yes these people truly did not know what they were talking about, but Aragorn was not going to say anything, he didn't want to start a fight, especially not now. He didn't want to be delayed and he really needed to regain some strength before he returned to the road. But all that changed when the man who had started the discussion in the first place said that he would like to see any man who could, with his honour intact, say that elves were anything other than trouble and that didn't want to kill them if he ever saw one. This Aragorn could not turn his deaf ear to; he had to stand up for his father and brothers' race.
"I would not kill an elf if I saw one, which in fact I have on many occasions, and no they are not trouble, they are actually a great help for you and you should be grateful to them, they have assisted you a lot, even though you may not know it" he didn't get to say anymore before he was interrupted by the brute who had started all this mess. "Aren't you that halfbred little scrap?" the man walked closer threateningly, obviously unaware that just because Aragorn lived among the elves he was not elven, not even halfelven "You probably think you're so much better than the rest of us, but I can tell you that growing up among them elves ain't something to be proud of… Brat!"
With that he started to beat Aragorn, the rest of the drunks helping him by holding down the weakened range, but the landlord got then to go outside; he didn't want his inn to be spoiled by the fighting drunkards. So they pulled Aragorn out on the street with them…
The big man pounded away on him and Aragorn could do nothing but wait for it to either stop or consciousness to flee. As it was he really didn't care which came first. Oh how he whished his father or his brothers were here. He really needed a friend right now. But no one came.
While Aragorn was pulled out on the street and used as some kind of punching bag by the brutes a hooded figure sat in a corner of the tavern.
#Why had he not gotten up# he asked himself as he sat there playing rapidly with his fingers. #Why were he not out there?# He cursed his own cowardice. #Why could he not find the courage to stand up for his believes, he didn't even have the courage to support the ones who had.# He felt so bad about just letting the ranger be pulled out there and not even trying to help him. But the problem was that he did not have the guts to do that, but the thought of just sitting here, safe in his corner was tearing him apart from the inside. He hated to think how he would feel if the situations had been reversed. He would have wanted someone to help him, stand up for him. But he did not have that courage in him, if he did anything they would just come after him too.
"That should teach you respect… Brat!" The big burly man shouted at the ranger. "And you know, them elves are nothing but trouble…" Then he leered and as a last reminder spat down at the still ranger and kicked him one more time for good measure. Aragorn groaned and tears glinted unseen in his eyes as the kick jarred his broken ribs.
The drunk men went inside again ordering more ale and looking after the barmaid as she made he way through the packed room, leaving the ranger laying on the road. He could die for all they cared.
Oh the hurt was unbearable. In this moment Aragorn wished that he could somehow just fade away into a world where there was no pain, a place where only calm serenity could be felt. Suddenly he saw the door to the inn open slowly and a man piqued out cautiously and upon seeing the ranger still laying there quickly looked around to see if anyone was looking. Content that no one would see what he did he hurried out and knelt softly beside the ranger. "I'm sorry" he whispered to the wounded man on the ground. #Oh why hadn't he gone out here as soon as he saw the men get back inside? Why had he waited so long before coming to the man now on the ground? Wasn't it bad enough that he had left him to be beaten by the brutes in the first place. Now he hadn't even dared help him. What a coward he was!# He hated himself.
The man slowly lifted up the ranger, careful not to jar his injuries, but unable to avoid causing the ranger pain. "Please forgive me" The man whispered once again. He truly was sorry and he despised himself for his own pathetic behaviour. But Aragorn never heard him; he had finally fallen unconscious.
He carried Aragorn up the backstairs not wising to go through the crowded taproom, both for the man in his arms and his own cause.
The light trickled softly through the window and splayed gently on the face of the sleeping ranger. His hurts were more visible now, but he looked better now than he had last night, largely due to the treatment he had received after being brought to this room. The man who had picked him up on the street had worked many hours on the ranger, trying to make up for his earlier lack of courage.
As the lazy beams of the sun touched his face Aragorn stirred, but for some reason he felt reluctant to wake up. Something in him didn't expect it to be a pleasant thing and therefore he simply continued to lie in this semiconscious state.
The other man in the room was instantly aware that the ranger was waking up and he rose from the seat he had occupied for most of the long night. He had not been sleeping at all, feeling that the least he could do for the young man whom he had abandoned to defending what he believed in without any support.
"How do you feel?" he asked gently, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.
The ranger suddenly jumped to full awareness. He had not known that there was someone in his room. "Who are you?" he questioned sharply.
The other man backed of raising his hands ever so slightly. "I mean you no harm," he said quietly, shocked by the sudden change in his young companion.
The movement had caused Aragorn's ribs to grind against each other and the pain brought back all that had happened the night before in a rush. Suddenly he remembered all tat had happened, the hateful words spoken about his father and brother's kin, how he alone had stood up to defend the elves and how he had been taken outside and beaten and then left alone in the dark cold street.
Aragorn looked at the man before him and at first he did not remember having seen him before, but then a memory made itself known. He had seen this man before, he had been in the tavern last night. He had been sitting at a corner table, he had been smoking. Aragorn didn't remember him immediately because the man's face had been hidden by a hood, but the ranger in Aragorn did not need to see a face to be able to recognise a man. He could see it in the small movements the man did, which he probably weren't even aware of doing himself, but the ranger knew that these kinds of things were very individual and they were as functional in identifying a man as his face was.
But if this man had been in the tavern last night, that meant that he knew what had happened as well. Aragorn didn't like the situation he found himself in. Whatever reason this mad had had for bringing him inside and put him to bed Aragorn couldn't imagine how he would be able to escape this without much more pain coming his was. He sighed.
"You know what happened last night" The ranger said heavily, but his strong grey eyes never left the face of the man before him. Aragorn knew that in his weakened state he was no match for this man, but he refused to be afraid. Fear never made anything better.
"Yes" The other man's voice was equally heavy and laden with a deep sadness, "and I'm terribly sorry," At this Aragorn's brow creased in confusion. #Why was he sorry# this certainly wasn't what Aragorn had expected the man to say.
The man saw Aragorn's confusion and elaborated, "I'm sorry I didn't stand up for the elves when Briar said that." At this Aragorn looked even more puzzled but continued to listen to the man, "Years ago they helped me, me and my wife. If it weren't for them our beautiful daughter wouldn't have been alive today." The man looked sadly up at the ranger, shame colouring his cheeks a flushing red. "I know I should have stood up for them. I should have been the first to tell them off, but I didn't. I didn't dare, not even to support you when you did what I should have done. I'm so sorry…" He looked down, too ashamed to look at the man before him. But he forced himself to look up once more, this man deserved no less, "I know I have no right to ask you this, but… Please forgive me?"
Aragorn waited a moment, having to catch up on what the man was saying, "There is no need to apologize. I would take a beating like the one I got yesterday a hundred times if I had to in order to defend my father and my brothers. I'm just glad to know that not all people are like Briar." the ranger had easily picked up the man's name and now used it. "As long as people like you exist hope will still be here." Aragorn saw that the man was about to protest, but started talking again before the man who had saved him could say anything, "And don't say you didn't do anything. You brought me here, you cleaned me up, you bandaged my wounds, I would say you did a great deal. In fact I thank you."
Remember: When you are hated the most, and nobody seems to care, someone will always be there to help you, even if they are not brave enough to do so before the danger is over. But remember they are always there. You are never truly alone.
(And that is an encouraging thought)
The End
R/R