AN: 'Faint the hollow murmur rings' is a collection of six one-shots and (for now) two interludes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings, any known characters or locations, etc.

For Elena

Part I The First

You can't make a second first impression.

Bree, around the year 3003 during the Third Age

The first time I saw Aragorn I was dripping wet, covered from head to toe in flour and running for my life. It wasn't exactly how I imagined our first meeting would go but if nothing else I'm pretty sure I made quite an impression.

Still, I like to think that things would have turned out differently if I had known of his true heritage back then. Because maybe if I had known that he wasn't just your usual every day ranger passing through the village but the last heir to the throne of Gondor, I wouldn't have used him as a human shield against the deranged woman chasing me through the streets. Maybe I wouldn't have screamed like I was burned alive and clung to his legs with all the strength my small body could possess - ruining his clothes in the process - and desperately evading the grabbing hands of the flustered maid who tried to get my charming, hysterical self away from the suspicious-looking stranger. Well, he didn't actually look suspicious, at least no more than any other traveller I had seen so far, but he wasn't familiar and for the open-minded people of Bree that was suspicious enough, thank you very much.

Looking back now it was probably a good thing that I had no idea who he truly was because I might have embarrassed myself by going all crazy fan-girly on him. The poor guy wouldn't have stood a chance. Luckily he didn't have the faintest idea who I was either. In his eyes I was merely a child. An extremely loud, stubborn child with a surprisingly strong grip but still a child. Honestly, I wouldn't even begrudge him if he had simply pushed me away and moved on but he didn't for whatever reason I'll probably never understand. I'm also pretty sure I saw his lips twitch once or twice but I was busy avoiding my inevitable capture by the nursemaid for as long as possible - because while he didn't shake me off he certainly didn't make himself useful by killing that stupid maid either - so I might have imagined it.

Because he should have been annoyed at the very least. He was a ranger after all. I know many people - including me - have never been given lessons about stealth but let me tell you one thing: walking through a small village with a kicking and screaming girl hanging off your back and a panicking maid fluttering around you is not the way to stay inconspicuous. Nope. Definitely not. Still, he bore it with as much dignity as possible, considering the situation.

The maid was one of the most useless ones I had ever had the misfortune to meet. She was afraid to come too close to the stranger - like he was contagious or something - and made it pretty easy for me to stay out of her reach, even though I was right in front of her. Which was absolutely pathetic on her part and gleefully hilarious on mine. Damn, I really hated that woman.

So there we were: me refusing to let the unfamiliar man go, the maid too afraid to take me from him and the ranger staying pretty much motionless and allowing me to climb - more accurately try and fail to climb - on his back and what seemed like half the people of Bree watching the spectacle without so much as lifting a finger to help.

Already the day was starting to look up.

Of course then my mother showed up.

Now don't get me wrong, my mother is one of the most amazing women I've ever met. She's one of these truly selfless people, always kind and friendly to everyone. She also has a temper that makes Sauron's wraith look like an ugly puppet in a badly faked haunted house.

She showed no sign of fear of the ranger, contrary to all those ignorant idiots around me. Awesome woman that she is, she simply gave him a Look before she grabbed me by the forearms, taking care to touch me as little as possible. Considering I was covered in a white cloud of flour I couldn't even blame her. She set me down in front of her - again not too close - and gave me a Look too. It was a different Look than the one the ranger had received.

"What do you think you are doing, child?" she asked sharply. There were so many things conveyed with these eight words.

What were you thinking, drawing attention like that? My mother hated attention. She hated it with such a passion it was bordering on being ridiculous. It wasn't shyness or her bashful nature that motivated her either but instead a paranoia so unfounded yet so powerful it possessed her body, mind and soul. To this day I will never understand the fear that has plagued her all her life. Sometimes I think she expected everyone she met to just look at her and scream "You are one of them!" as though she was the personification of a Nazgûl. Like most fears it was in all honesty a stupid one. Because let's face it: there was nothing extraordinary about our life in Bree. My parents had married young, my father being the heir to one of the wealthier families in this part of the country, which isn't saying much by the way, but around the town it gave him a fair amount of influence - enough to ensure that I could walk through the streets undisturbed even by the shadier crowd. Though I assume my over-protective brother seldom leaving my side helped too. All in all there was nothing about our family that stood out too much, at least not on the outside. And since the only difference between us and them was inside our very minds they would and could never find out about it. There were no signs, no evidence, no indications of anything being amiss. There never would be. But somewhere along the years, as the lines between reality and dream blurred more and more, my mother had forgotten that fact. Even back then, in front of a stranger and confronted with my less than dignified appearance I could see that flicker of unjustified fear in her glazed eyes, could only watch as the shadow's hold on her soul grew with each passing day.

I didn't answer her question. Truthfully, there was no answer that would satisfy her, not when she was in that mood again. So I kept quiet and blocked her scowling words out to the best of my ability. She grabbed my hand then, wanted to get me out of the public's eye as fast as possible. Usually I would have followed her without a fuss, knowing that complaining would only get me deeper in trouble. But as I turned around my gaze met the clear, grey eyes of the ranger and for a reason I still can't explain, I stayed.

Now I know what that moment meant and how many years of my life it would define later on. Now I recognize the emotions that rushed through me as kinship and the sudden wish to care and protect, no matter the cost. Now, though I still lack the words to adequately describe my feelings, I understand. But back then I didn't.

As I stood there, motionless, in between my mother and a man I had never met before, time seemed to freeze. It was one of these moments every romantic movie tries to capture, although it wasn't romantic in any sense. But it was intense. There was something - not necessarily the man himself but the whole situation - that made me pause. Then a movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. For but a second I spotted a man-shaped shadow, clad in grey, before he melted back into the darkness like a nightmare in the face of the breaking dawn. With all the people around us - most did not even have the decency to pretend not to stare - there was no reason for one of the villagers to stand out. But for one reason or another that figure, whoever he was, triggered my memory. He, however unintentional and most likely unwillingly, made me remember how exactly I had gotten myself into this mess. Because, believe it or not, I do not make a habit out of running around squealing in such a disgusting condition and I approach strangers even less. Seriously, I barely manage to talk with the people I've known all my life, never mind an outsider.

It was all Sage's fault, of course.

Not that he was aware of that little fact. And since I valued my continued health it was going to stay that way. Sage was a young man about twenty winters. He was also one of the shadiest and most violent guys I've ever had the displeasure to meet. Considering my unique luck that was really saying something. The only man who was worse than Sage were his friends who made their thickness up with sheer malice. In Bree they were known for their rowdy behavior and their ferocious dislike towards strangers.

I had been running across the busy streets like the panicked child I was - swearing that should I survive the wrath of our maid and worse my parents my darling brother would pay for putting me into this mess - when I noticed it. Not the ranger, I had known he was in town for hours. It was all the people talked about and besides it was a ranger. I had always been fascinated with them and generally with every traveller, so there was no chance that I would miss his appearance. What had caused my rather spectacular show had actually been a very simple and very telling if silent exchange between Sage and his minions as they measured said ranger up. Nothing good ever happened to those who drew that kind of attention from his group.

Don't ask me why but I was determined to save the man. I had a plan.

To be fair I came up with said plan in the time it took me to cross the street and hug his knee's as tightly as I could. Which was easier said than done with him in mid-stride and everything. Than the maid spotted me and my survival instinct's kicked in. Cue the shrill screaming. And it all went downhill from there.

All these thoughts whirled through my mind as I stood there, still frozen in place between my mother and the stranger who looked at me curiously. Can't say I blame him.

Stage one had been drawing attention. And boy, had I accomplished that. Mother was going to skin me alive but it was totally worth it. I hoped. Because it's hard to make somebody disappear when all eyes rest upon him, even though most people here wouldn't care too much about an outsider.

The second - and final - stage was as simple as it was brilliant. Well, it was simple. I would give the man a warning. That was it. My great plan. But he was a ranger, therefore a warning should be more than enough.

My mother tugged my hand rather roughly but I refused to follow her. I couldn't. Not yet. Slipping out of her grasp with practiced ease, I stumbled back to the man once again. "Just wanna say good-bye" I cried to my mother when she called my name sharply. She never used my name. It was an unusual, otherworldly name and it always drew attention.

I leaned my head back and looked up and up and up until I finally met the ranger's grey eyes again. Now that I stood directly in front of him and didn't try to climb him I realized exactly how tall he was. He would be a really good basketball player with that height. Unable to do anything else I lifted my arms like a small child demanding to be held. Thankfully he understood what I wanted - and that my dear mother would completely lose her shit if he actually took me in his arms - and bend down to my eye-level. It was the only chance I was likely going to get or that's what I thought at that time, so I exuberantly threw my arms around his neck to give him a heartfelt if somewhat one-sided hug. We both did a pretty good job of ignoring the cloud of flour surrounding us with every move I made. It's a wonder we didn't choke to death.

"You have drawn the attention of five men with grey cloaks. They do have a unique way of welcoming guests in our town. Be wary of hiding in the shadows for they may not be on your side" I whispered quickly into the man's ear. I felt his muscles tense as his mind processed the words I had spoken but my mother jerked me away from him before either of us were able to exchange another word. She hoisted me up on her hip, obviously determined to ignore my sad state of dress in favor of keeping me close by her side.

Her question was spoken in an incredible soft voice as though all the tension and anger had bled away until nothing but exhaustion was left. "Why?" I looked back over my shoulder, my gaze locked on the wide eyes of a nameless ranger who dipped his head in silent acknowledgement of my message. It felt like I had known him for an eternity and yet I had never seen him before this very day. The answer slipped effortlessly from my lips and though I had spoken the words myself they would still haunt me for years to come.

"He has the right kind of eyes."

My mother faltered but only for a moment. Then she started walking again and if she walked faster than I had ever seen her carry me before nobody ever mentioned it.

Nobody mentioned a lot of things that had happened that day. And though I could end my story on this very dramatic note I would also like to point out that as memorable as my first encounter with Aragorn was, my revenge on my darling brother for pushing me into the cold water and throwing flour over my head would be even more memorable.

Dale didn't know it yet but he was going down.

This is a birthday gift for my friend and will be updated every week. Until then:

Love, Schlange