The King
A/N: I was randomly reading fanfiction and I just thought this up. I hope you like it. It is from a woman's PoV about Aragorn. Centred around that awesome poem. Lol. My first one-shot fic, but I refuse to use that as an excuse. I've have written long enough to know that the subject isn't really going to change how good (or bad) I write. Please, constructive criticism is welcomed. But flames will be ignored.
Disclaimer: Stop kidding yourselves. None of us are actually going to own Lord of the Rings.
The woman gazed slightly over the ledge at the city of Gondor, smiling as the King, Elessar, rode through the white streets with his friends from the Fellowship.
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
He had started of as a simple ranger. Well, not so simple they may say. He wandered purposefully, protecting the lands of middle earth, protecting his people; even if they didn't know who he truly was.
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
Despite the fact he had began to age, if slyly, his silvering hair still greatly hidden by the deep brown locks, he still stood strong. His pride and love for middle earth and its people, his friends, his wife and child, kept him strong. He continued to lead the skirmishes against the small bands of orcs that occasionally appeared around Minas Tirth, still being heralded a hero by his people.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
From the darkness of the shadows of forests and mountain crags he had sprung, a bright light in the darkness, 'Estel', or 'hope', he had been named by the elves, a name true to his very nature as he brought hope wherever he travelled. A star, burning brightly against the pressing night, refusing to go out.
Renewed shall be the blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
Crownless, he had fought. Crowned, he fought harder. His blade sang true through his foes, his voice cut like a knife through lying words. The King of Gondor nodded his head to the woman as his smile lit his face, and the woman had to smile back. He had brought his hope, courage, bravery to many. His love flowed through the city like a life force.
The age of men had begun strong.