Hello! To all those who are still waiting for my take on Legolas and Aragorn please be patient I am searching for just the right way to put them together.
Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. (Just a Calendar.)
Recognition
Aragorn was on his knees. His hands were tied in front of his to what felt like a smooth wooden pole. His feet were tied together. He had been blindfolded. He had no idea where he was or who held him captive.
"We are only here to help you." A quiet euphonious female voice said. "Think of us as your conscience."
Aragorn did not recognize the voice. "What do you want?" The room was quite cool, but Aragorn was sweating.
"We want the answer to a simple riddle." She answered.
"You have brought me here for a riddle?" Aragorn asked incredulously.
"Yes." She said simple and he heard the crack of a whip. "Who are you?"
"I am…" Aragorn trailed off. He was many. He had many names. Which one was he? He answered when the first one came to mind. "I am Estel."
"Hope?" Her laughter was cruel as it echoed off the walls. "Hope for whom? The war of Rings is over. Hope is needed no longer." The whip that he had heard earlier cracked and connected with his back. He cried out as he was lashed six times. Then the whip was silent and his back was bleeding.
"Who are you?" the woman asked again.
"I am Strider." Aragorn answered this time.
"A lowly ranger? A man without a future? I think not." The whip cracked down again but only once and much harder than the first six.
Aragorn was breathing heavily in pain. He did not understand the purpose behind the question.
"Who are you?" the female asked a third time.
"I am the Dúndan." Aragorn answered this time.
"A leader for those rangers? Perhaps you are, but they need not your leadership." The whip cracked once more leaving a long gash from his right shoulder to his left butt cheek.
Aragorn cried out in agony as his back was ripped open and blood flowed.
"Who are you?" the woman whispered in his ear. Her warm breath caressed it, the only thing warm in the room.
"I am Aragorn." Aragorn told her his voice was laced with antagonizing pain.
"Aragorn? The son of Arathorn II? Aragorn died when Estel was born." The whip laid across his back leaving another gash opposite to the previous one. He screamed in torment.
"Who are you?" the woman asked again and her voice was demanding and warm as ice.
"I am King Elessar, Ruler of Gondor." Aragorn answered and waited for the blow that came quickly. He barely felt it.
"The King of Gondor is that who you believe yourself to be now? A King?" she ridiculed him.
"Yes. I am King." Aragorn answered in a slight whisper.
"Then, if you are King, why do you claim to be others?" she asked.
Aragorn did not answer. He had finally realized the purpose of the riddle.
"Who are you?" she asked a final time.
"I am a man with many names." He answered softly.
"Which name is the man?" she countered.
"All the names that I have claimed to be, I am. I cannot just be one, or I would not be whole." Aragorn answered.
He heard the whip being set aside.
"You have answered the riddle," she said, " But if your are all those you have named then why do you try to be just King Elessar?"
"That is the name that protects all the others that I am." Aragorn stated.
"I have some wisdom then King of Gondor," she said, "You should not hide behind King Elessar. Elessar is only the name not the man. All your names balance each other and create you. The man, which is bleeding to death before me."
Aragorn dropped his head in weakness. "Who are you?"
"I am your conscience." She answered.
That was the last thing he heard before he passed out.
Aragorn awoke, the moonlight drifting in the terrace doors. He quietly climbed out of bed trying not to disturb Arwen. His back pained him slightly; he would not be able to forget what he had been through that night. He stood looking out the terrace doors, and for the first time in many years he was content with himself. He stood looking out at Minas Tirith perfectly at ease with whom he was and what he was doing.
What did you think? I just had to have some philosophy at the end or his beating would have been pointless. I am going to write that slash for the others now… Oh if you flame be original or I might just have to laugh and write some more beating. Perhaps I will beat Perigrin Took next…