First Meeting
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien. I'm writing this for fun, not money.
Chapter 1: The village
Author's note: This story is unrelated to my other stories.
The village was a small one, about a mile away from the outskirts of Esgaroth. The town's population consisted of a meager assortment of farmers and herders who lived outside the busy city in order to tend to their crops and their livestock. Aragorn would have passed right through the inconsequential town on his way to Esgaroth had he not heard the screaming.
At this early afternoon hour the village was almost deserted. The men and any boys strong enough to work had all left town to tend to their crops. The only ones left at home were the farmers' wives and young children. Hearing the cries for help, Aragon turned his horse in the direction of the sound and urged him to a gallop. By the time he reached the cause the disruption, he could see four men running towards the edge of the forest, confident that no man would follow them there.
The forest was called Mirkwood. Aragorn had heard many stories of it, both from the elves of Rivendell and from the many human towns he had visited in the past few years. The men who spoke of Mirkwood painted it as evil. They spoke of a cruel Elvenking, of wild and vicious elves who prey on men, and a place full of dark magic and enchantments. In Rivendell, Aragorn heard other stories. Stories of a king who was headstrong but not cruel. Stories of elves who fought bravely against the shadow surrounding their home, at great cost to themselves. "More dangerous, less wise," they called them. The Noldor considered them primitive. Too occupied with war to have any real knowledge in the art, literature, and logic that the Noldor were known for. Still, they were elves, and were not the evil beings that many men pictured them as.
Aragorn was about to pursue the men into the forest when he saw the woman. She was laying in the doorway of one of the small houses, crying and calling out for help. Aragorn dismounted and rushed towards her.
"Madame, are you alright?" Aragorn asked as he approached.
She had obviously been involved in a scuffle. Her shabby dress was torn in one spot, her hair had escaped from the handkerchief that had been holding it in place, and there was a bruise forming on one of her cheeks.
"Those men," she choked out through her tears, pointing in the direction in which the men had disappeared. "They're robbing us."
She was not badly hurt. He had seen in the distance that the men all had swords, but they didn't appear to have used them. They did not need to. The women was clearly too frightened to have put up a fight or pursue them after they ran. He reached out a hand to help her stand and led her into the house. It was in total disarray. He assumed that the room he was in now was a combination of a sitting room, dining room, and kitchen. Chairs were knocked over, cupboard doors were wide open, and miscellaneous items were strewn all over the floor.
Aragorn heard a noise and put his hand on the hilt of his sword. A moment later a small head peaked threw the doorway leading to the rest of the house.
"Mama?" a young girl asked fearfully. The woman seemed to have recovered somewhat from her ordeal. She rushed forward to embrace the child.
"Shh. It's alright Kinnie. Mama's here." She reassured her.
Soon more small heads appeared in the room. There were five altogether. The youngest could be no more than ten. They all appeared scared, but unhurt. Aragorn watched as the woman sought to comfort them.
"What happened?" He asked with concern.
"It was the outlaws," she explained, "Master Girion sent them out of Esgaroth a month ago for their crimes. They been dwelling just inside the edge of the haunted forest since then. This is the third time they've come to the village to loot our homes."
"The third time?" He asked perplexed. "Hasn't anyone been sent to arrest them for their crimes?"
She stared at him, confused.
"They've been staying inside the forest." She repeated. "How the elves haven't gotten to them yet, I don't know, but no one else is going to risk going in that horrid place."
Aragorn sighed. He had lived among both elves and men, and the prejudice of both races always surprised and annoyed him. He was certain that the elves of Mirkwood weren't as horrible as these villagers seemed to think. After all, these weren't allies of Sauron that they were talking about. He had no doubts that the villagers fear of the forest was unwarranted. Their fear was most likely the result of scary stories told to children generations ago to scare them into behaving.
"I will go." He promised the woman. His conscious would not allow him to leave the villagers to the mercy of those outlaws. "I will make sure that those men don't bother your village again."
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