Seeing Past the Ranger

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns Lord of the Rings, not me.

Summary: Aragorn has doubts, regrets, and thoughts that haunt him on the eve of battle and during battle. I really suck at summaries.

A/N: I know it seems odd that Aragorn would be sleeping in a tent outside Minas Tirith, but that's the way it was in the book, and I think it makes him a seem more humble, which I need in this fic. And when referring to 'the men', I mean the soldiers of Gondor and Rohan. Aragorn's POV.

Thanks to mybeta Amanda, and thanks to whoever reads and reviews!


Firelight from outside flickers on the walls of my tent. The wind, on other nights, would have carried the sound of the men's laughter to me, but no one is laughing now. The men speak in low voices of death and ruin, of hopelessness and Shadow. I know it has crossed their minds that this may be their last night alive, as the thought has entered my head.

Like many of them I cannot rest. They think of death, but other thoughts haunt me.

The people of Gondor look to me as their King, though I wear no crown and have not claimed the empty throne. When I entered Minas Tirith, all around me were faces full of hope, whispers of "The King! The heir of Elendil!" They know nothing of me save for the mask I wear as the potential king. It is different with my friends. They treat me as King even though they know me, even though they know I do not want any power. No one missed Gandalf's bowed head when I released the Dead from their oath. The people of Gondor see past the Ranger to the King that they believe can save them.

To be King I will be entrusted with a country's fate. I do not want to be entrusted with anyone's life. I already hold one's life, and I am failing to keep it safe.

My hand clutches the Evenstar around my throat as I remember the dream I had four nights ago:

The Evenstar shatters as it falls from my hand to the floor, a thousand pieces dancing in the darkness, a thousand tears shed. My shocked face fades and I see Arwen. She lies in the bright courtyard in Rivendell, her raven hair fanned out on a pillow. A single tear slides down the side of her face. "How I wish I could see him…one last time," she murmurs. Another tear slips down.

And behind me I feel Death reaching for her…

I had woken with my dagger drawn, ready but unable to defend Arwen from death. A while later I spoke with Elrond, who had arrived while I slept. He told me Arwen is dying. My nightmare was true.

I remember that night in Rivendell, though it seems so long ago. Arwen gave me the Evenstar and in doing so surrendered her life to me. When Elrond came he gave me the Sword of Kings only because Arwen wished it. She has given up her immortality for me, sent the weapon that gave me the power to command the Dead and save Minas Tirith from further damage.

And she is dying because of it. I cannot save her, I cannot destroy the Ring, the evil that kills her. Only Frodo can.

The soldiers of Gondor looked at me with respect, but also with unrepressed sorrow when I announced the plan for defeating Sauron. "We cannot achieve victory by arms, but by arms we can give Frodo his chance to destroy the Ring," I explained. "We cannot win this battle. We must march to death with no hope for ourselves, only the thought that with our end may come a new age."

Despite these dark words, every man able to will fight tomorrow. They are brave men who deserve more recognition than a brutal death and a mass burial.

I do not fear the death that tomorrow will bring. I do not regret my decision to lead all these men to war.

My only regret is that I am to die a quick death while Arwen suffers.

I cannot save her, but I will fight for her.


Did ya like it? Please review! And also-

DESPERATELY NEEDED: Someone who knows all or most of Aragorn's speech to the soldiers right before the last battle in front of Mordor. You know, "This day, we fight!" etc. The second chapter of this isn't going up until I have that, so please email me if you can help! Thanks!