Chapter 4
Aragorn, King of Gondor, leaned back and wiped the sweat from his eyes. He turned to survey the fields. All around, men, women, and children worked together to bring the kingdom back from the brink of destruction. It was five years after the devastating War of the Ring, and Gondor still bore the marks of the battle for Minas Tirith. Masonry from the lower levels was still missing, and burn marks decorated the walls. The upper levels were virtually untouched, to Aragorn's relief. That meant less work. He picked his hoe up again and tilled the deep plain loam for a moment. A touch on his shoulder stopped him for a second time.
Aragorn turned, and his green eyes met Arwen's blue ones. He stared for a moment, lost in the amaranthine turquoise pools. Arwen spoke, and her seraphic voice jolted him out of his stupor. "Aragorn, why do you work yourself so?" Then, in a lower voice, "Elendil thedin hunir desala. (Elendil doesn't need you to prove yourself to him.)"
"I know that. It's not about Elendil. I want the people to know that I care for them. I will not be a tyrant that takes from his people and never gives to them." Aragorn told Arwen.
Arwen smiled at him. Instantly he was transfixed. Aragorn was never able to prepare himself for when the Evenstar curved those perfect lips up into a smile, a smile that caused the world to melt away. He and Arwen were all that were real.
"I understand. You are a good man at heart. You don't think of only yourself, you think of others first. I like that." Arwen's angelic voice cut through the dream like a flaming sword slicing butter. Aragorn started, and in that instant, he saw a dark shape flying in the air. It appeared to be one of the Ringwraiths fell beasts, but the shape wasn't quite right. The head was more triangular than the fell beast's, and the wings were longer. Aragorn looked harder, and saw that the rider was cloaked in a black robe similar to a Nazgûl. Fearing the worst, Aragorn called to the Gondorian archers.
"Prepare to fire! Get flaming arrows to burn it out of the sky!" The archers rushed to do his bidding. "Fire... now!!!" Dozens of arrows flew into the sky, leaving flaming trails in the air. Most of the arrows missed the beast, but five flaming arrows hit, burning the feathers. The beast shrieked, an earsplitting shriek that sent the soldiers and villagers down to their knees, howling in pain. The flying beast hit the ground with a earth-shaking crash.
"Oi! What was that for? I didn't do nothing."
Aragorn looked at the dragon-like mount in puzzlement. A creature pulled itself out from under the beast. "What are you staring at? You never seen a Ra'zac before?"
The king shook his head. "No, I haven't."
The Ra'zac snorted. "Ha, explains a lot. I'm not evil, though my brothers are."
"They are?"
"Aye. We are from Alagaësia. I am Uthalîa Küori Sagôs." The Ra'zac bowed. Aragorn extended a hand. Uthalîa took it, and for the first time in recorded history, a Ra'zac and a human met in friendship.
