AN - I own nothing but the errors. If you see them, I will fix them, but you have to let me know. Yet another writing assignment, I think the prompt was Parents. Any problems with my writing? Please tell me!
It was just dusk on a day that had been rainy and cold. He sat under a tree attempting to not get even more soaked than he already was. It was a failing endeavor, but he could try.
He flicked some mud from his sodden boots. It was also pointless, as he was both drenched and covered in mud, but he did it anyway. What little light that his tiny fire emitted reflected against something on his finger, and caught his eye.
This Ring. He'd been given it when he was just twenty years of age, when he had learned his true name and heritage. It depicted two snakes with emeralds for eyes twisted around his finger with one consuming the other. Both with golden crowns.
The Ring of Barahir. Given to Barahir by Finrod Felagund, and passed down father to son until it came finally to him. This soggy ranger, soaked with mud. It was rather funny if you thought about it. You would never think, or believe that this scruffy man would be the king of Gondor and Arnor someday. Maybe.
His mother had hid it from him, his real father was dead. His foster father was the brother of his ancestor. They had both lied to him for most of his childhood, and into young adulthood.
No... His mother had protected him. And his father? That was the man, or rather Elf, who had raised him. He was back home in Imladris, Home. He snorted. Thinking about his lovely elven home whilst soaking and covered in mud. Wishing to be there. Wishing, longing to see his Naneth and Adar. And his brothers. Foster brothers that is. To see Glorfindel, to fight with Glorfindel, and then to see his hand reaching down to pick him up after being the cause of the fall in the first place. To hear drab old Erestor go on and on and on about some obscure elf in the First Age. To see his mother's smile. All of this he longed for.
The light, both from his sputtering fire and from the hidden sun was gone. Sighing, Aragorn shifted and closed his eyes. Somewhere, his parents were thinking of him. He'd see them again, it would just take a little while.
He snorted again. Just think, all of that nostalgia, just from looking at a ring. Life's funny, isn't it?