"Dark Soul"
By: Aldaj - chelu-mrw@eudoramail.com
Note: This is my first attempt at a LOTR fic, so I really would like to know what you think. This takes place in the movie after the Fellowship has left Elrond.
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He if knew any better, he would have been deathly afraid of the man. Frodo shook his head, and with it his thoughts. He did know the man, and still found himself frightened most of the time. But his fear was not alone; with it was admiration, confidence, and an overwhelming sense of respect. But still, it was the fear that was the emotion that first came to mind.
From the very first time Frodo had seen Strider, he had been the very picture of warning. Someone not to be fooled with, someone that had been to hell and back, and had the scars and fearlessness to prove it. At first, Frodo had been hesitant to trust Strider, but after hearing he was a friend of Gandalf's, it was impossible not to trust him completely and without question. But even the impossible happens on occasion.
There were times when he wondered why Strider was helping him on his quest. Surely there had to be some great reason that Frodo had yet to see. For certain he would simply not just do it as a favor to Gandalf. Or would he? Maybe this task, no matter how gigantic and imposing it was to Frodo, was just another trek in the dangerous and unsteady life of the rugged Ranger.
But yet he risked his life time and time again to save Frodo. In the middle of battle, when Frodo feared the end of his life was upon him, out would the Ranger come of the shadows, slaying all in his path as he fought at Frodo's side.
There were times when all hope seemed to be lost, but yet the Ranger would shrug off Frodo's - and everyone else's - doubts and fears as if they never existed. It was this thought that made Frodo lift his eyes and gaze in front of him.
On the other side of the meager campfire that burned before him, Strider sat with his own gaze held effortlessly by the flames. The look in his eyes was as intense as if in the middle of a fight with the Orcs. It seemed he never dropped his guard. Or slept. In the many days they had been on their journey, Frodo had never seen Strider even once asleep. Every time Frodo would awake in the mornings, or after a terrible dream, there was Strider; wide-awake and watching the darkness.
Strider. How odd he still used that name to refer to the Ranger. Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He was an heir. The first time he learned that fact, at the council in Eldron, he thought he had misheard. This man had been in his presence for days on end, but he had no clue as to who he really was.
But his appearance hid it well. His clothes were dirty and tattered, his face worn and rugged. Definitely not an heir at first glance. Frodo still watched Aragorn from across the fire as the now-Ranger ran a hand over his face as if to clear his own thoughts. The past of Aragorn seemed to be something he did not want to discuss, nor relive. And because of that, no matter how much curiosity gnawed at Frodo, he would not inquire to it.
Suddenly, so fast that Frodo thought he was seeing things, Strider looked up and met his gaze. His eyes held Frodo's effortlessly, and for an instant, Frodo was entranced. The spell was soon broken and he looked away quickly, setting his gaze upon the ground. There had been a look in Strider's eyes, almost a warning, but Frodo did not know what to think of it. The look was so heavy that it almost weighed Frodo down. The pain in his eyes was clear, but ache was too much to bear. How could one man have such a dark heart, yet still work for good?
It was very simple to the hobbit. Although until now he had not given it a moments thought. Strider fought for good because he had seen more than his share of evil, and wished not to gaze upon it again.
Without a word, the Ranger stood from his place before the fire. Frodo could not help but watch him walk away. His stride had purpose, even in the quiet of the peaceful wood. He made his way to Legolas, who was standing watch at the edge of their camp. Frodo watched with curiosity at the exchange between the two, although there really was none. Strider simply came to stand beside the Elf, and without a word Legolas turned and walked away, retiring the watch to the Ranger.
Had the Hobbit looked away a second too soon, he would have not seen the concern that Legolas showed then. Stopping several yards from the Ranger, he turned and stared at the Ranger's back. Tilting his head slightly to the side, Legolas was silent as he then shook his head in sadness, and then walked again. The Elf approached the fire, and replaced the seat that Strider had occupied only a few short moments before. Still unaware of Frodo's eyes upon him, Legolas glanced over his shoulder one more time at the Ranger who stood unmoving except for his head that turned as he spied the mountains. Turning back to the fire, Legolas then met the Hobbit's eyes.
"I see Aragorn has not rid himself of the demons that fight in his very soul, as I had hoped he would."
The Hobbit's eyes must have asked a million questions, but Legolas gently shook his head slightly in dismissal of them all, not willing to divulge any further information.
Instead, he lowered his voice and simply said, "I shall hope with all my heart that good wins the battle that goes on inside his mind and heart. For it would be a pity for all if he were to give in to the evil he possesses inside him. After such a long battle, one most often becomes weary and gives in. But we shall hope. We must hope."
By: Aldaj - chelu-mrw@eudoramail.com
Note: This is my first attempt at a LOTR fic, so I really would like to know what you think. This takes place in the movie after the Fellowship has left Elrond.
-----------------------------
He if knew any better, he would have been deathly afraid of the man. Frodo shook his head, and with it his thoughts. He did know the man, and still found himself frightened most of the time. But his fear was not alone; with it was admiration, confidence, and an overwhelming sense of respect. But still, it was the fear that was the emotion that first came to mind.
From the very first time Frodo had seen Strider, he had been the very picture of warning. Someone not to be fooled with, someone that had been to hell and back, and had the scars and fearlessness to prove it. At first, Frodo had been hesitant to trust Strider, but after hearing he was a friend of Gandalf's, it was impossible not to trust him completely and without question. But even the impossible happens on occasion.
There were times when he wondered why Strider was helping him on his quest. Surely there had to be some great reason that Frodo had yet to see. For certain he would simply not just do it as a favor to Gandalf. Or would he? Maybe this task, no matter how gigantic and imposing it was to Frodo, was just another trek in the dangerous and unsteady life of the rugged Ranger.
But yet he risked his life time and time again to save Frodo. In the middle of battle, when Frodo feared the end of his life was upon him, out would the Ranger come of the shadows, slaying all in his path as he fought at Frodo's side.
There were times when all hope seemed to be lost, but yet the Ranger would shrug off Frodo's - and everyone else's - doubts and fears as if they never existed. It was this thought that made Frodo lift his eyes and gaze in front of him.
On the other side of the meager campfire that burned before him, Strider sat with his own gaze held effortlessly by the flames. The look in his eyes was as intense as if in the middle of a fight with the Orcs. It seemed he never dropped his guard. Or slept. In the many days they had been on their journey, Frodo had never seen Strider even once asleep. Every time Frodo would awake in the mornings, or after a terrible dream, there was Strider; wide-awake and watching the darkness.
Strider. How odd he still used that name to refer to the Ranger. Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He was an heir. The first time he learned that fact, at the council in Eldron, he thought he had misheard. This man had been in his presence for days on end, but he had no clue as to who he really was.
But his appearance hid it well. His clothes were dirty and tattered, his face worn and rugged. Definitely not an heir at first glance. Frodo still watched Aragorn from across the fire as the now-Ranger ran a hand over his face as if to clear his own thoughts. The past of Aragorn seemed to be something he did not want to discuss, nor relive. And because of that, no matter how much curiosity gnawed at Frodo, he would not inquire to it.
Suddenly, so fast that Frodo thought he was seeing things, Strider looked up and met his gaze. His eyes held Frodo's effortlessly, and for an instant, Frodo was entranced. The spell was soon broken and he looked away quickly, setting his gaze upon the ground. There had been a look in Strider's eyes, almost a warning, but Frodo did not know what to think of it. The look was so heavy that it almost weighed Frodo down. The pain in his eyes was clear, but ache was too much to bear. How could one man have such a dark heart, yet still work for good?
It was very simple to the hobbit. Although until now he had not given it a moments thought. Strider fought for good because he had seen more than his share of evil, and wished not to gaze upon it again.
Without a word, the Ranger stood from his place before the fire. Frodo could not help but watch him walk away. His stride had purpose, even in the quiet of the peaceful wood. He made his way to Legolas, who was standing watch at the edge of their camp. Frodo watched with curiosity at the exchange between the two, although there really was none. Strider simply came to stand beside the Elf, and without a word Legolas turned and walked away, retiring the watch to the Ranger.
Had the Hobbit looked away a second too soon, he would have not seen the concern that Legolas showed then. Stopping several yards from the Ranger, he turned and stared at the Ranger's back. Tilting his head slightly to the side, Legolas was silent as he then shook his head in sadness, and then walked again. The Elf approached the fire, and replaced the seat that Strider had occupied only a few short moments before. Still unaware of Frodo's eyes upon him, Legolas glanced over his shoulder one more time at the Ranger who stood unmoving except for his head that turned as he spied the mountains. Turning back to the fire, Legolas then met the Hobbit's eyes.
"I see Aragorn has not rid himself of the demons that fight in his very soul, as I had hoped he would."
The Hobbit's eyes must have asked a million questions, but Legolas gently shook his head slightly in dismissal of them all, not willing to divulge any further information.
Instead, he lowered his voice and simply said, "I shall hope with all my heart that good wins the battle that goes on inside his mind and heart. For it would be a pity for all if he were to give in to the evil he possesses inside him. After such a long battle, one most often becomes weary and gives in. But we shall hope. We must hope."