After Ages
by Shauna (wind3213@hotmail.com)

Summary: It occurs to me that after the last ship departed from the grey havens, it wasn't just mankind that was left behind. The story of the descendants of Gondor (hey, that's us!) and the remnants of another age.

Takes place in the year 2002.

And despite what you make think, this isn't AU. It's merely farfetched. If you notice a contradiction from canon, please let me know!

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Prologue: The Discovery

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Aragorn Patterson stepped lightly through the forest behind his house, mindful as ever of even the slightest crackle of leaves and grass beneath his feet. The deer he followed was swifter and wiser than any he had seen in his fourteen years, and sometimes he had to pause to relocate the tracks. Then, with a smile at a roughly bent twig or a wink at a flattened space of grass (and to be honest he had blown a kiss at a hoofprint in the mud), he continued on.

His father, who had taught him to hunt and had given him the gun he carried on the chase, treated his quirks with tender annoyance and his joy in hunting with a fond regret. Perhaps it was because the parliament was seriously considering banning guns, but there seemed always a measure of sadness on their hunting trips. Still, today Aragorn hunted alone.

He had never been in this patch of forest before. They had moved into their new house only a month ago. His father seemed ever busy, and when he had asked to go out today, weapons and vests in hand, the elder man had just shaken his head. Gesturing to the guns he'd said to lock them up, there were seasons for hunting here, and this wasn't one of them.

"Why did we come to this blasted place?" he'd replied, unable to dampen his accusatory tone.

It was his mother who had been appointed as United States ambassador to this trivial little country, who had dragged them out here. To where the beautiful, tempting forest was closed with laws like gates. To where the citizenry obviously thought that only criminals could handle guns.

*Well, then,* thought Aragorn, *I'll just have to start hunting with a bow and arrow!*

Distracted, his eyes missed the unnatural rise of leaves and he tripped and sprawled over the root beneath. He went down loudly on the forest floor, and the flight of birds from the bush beside him gave him no reason to hold back a curse.

"Fucking shit," he muttered, certain that the deer had sprinted away and he'd never capture it now. Still, he was nothing if not thorough, and went to make sure.

When he turned past the large tree trunk in front of him he was shocked into silence. The deer had not run. It hadn't even ambled further along it's path. It stood quietly, nibbling on foliage, turning its head this way and that. Then it raised its face to look at Aragorn, its eyes full and saddened.

*How can a deer be sad?* Thought Aragorn. *No, not saddened. Choco is saddened when I don't take him for a walk. Not saddened. Sorrowful.* It was such an odd and painful thing to watch that Aragorn did the first thing that came to his mind. He winked at the deer.

It bounded off.

*Jesus, I'm such a clutz I nearly start an avalanche in the forest and it's a wink that spooks him?* he thought, once again resuming his careful stalking.

He followed for nearly half an hour, at times growing nearer to his quarry, at times falling so far behind he felt certain he had lost it. It occured to him that he wasn't going to be able to find his way back, but for that he had a flare in his pocket, and if he was lost already he might as well be lost with a good kill.

He nearly tripped again, but didn't, so held back a swear. Although he didn't lessen his pace he knew with sudden certainty that he wouldn't kill this deer. So what if the family needed the food? There were stupider and far less stubborn deer closer to home.

Then why was he still following?

Whatever the reason was, he continued, never reaching for his gun, nor his pocket for a flare when the daylight turned to dusk and then darkness. A practised hunter for one so young, Aragorn trusted his ears as well as his eyes. He had never heard a forest so alive as this one. The leaves and branches high above seemed to rustle in purposeful song. The small forest mammals seemed to grow bolder as the insects shrunk away, and twice he had counted squirrels disrupting his stride by darting past his feet. Now the nocturnal animals were out, but the fierce cries of owls in the distance struck no fear in his heart.

Aragorn sighed softly, feeling a great relaxation.

#Weary are you? You will find no rest here.#

Aragorn spun at the sound of the voice, which spoke in a strange language but with a familiar tone of menace.

"I- I don't understand you," he said, gaping at the man whose apearance was as unnatural as his voice. He was impossibly tall and lithe, and his skin seemed to shine outwards instead of reflecting the moonlight. He was clothed in flowing browns and greens, and he had long blond hair which tightened over his ears and was bound back behind his head. "What are you saying?"

"You still speak the common tongue?" the man asked. For all the tone was casual, and though this man was as foreign to Aragorn as it seemed anyone could be, he could read fear in the others eyes.

"I do. Who are you?"

"You have not been invited here," the other replied, purposely leaving the question unanswered. "And for long years a trespass has been punished by death. Still, you seem very young. And it has been long since anyone has wandered to us. I am loathe to be hasty."

Confused, Aragorn moved to speak, but was interrupted.

"Silence must avail you! The Avari will want you killed immediately. Your only hope is with the king. Quickly, now, before anyone seeks to do what I should have done."

With a beckoning hunter's gesture, the strange man turned, and feeling helpless Aragorn followed him down the path.

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A/N: Better a flame then silence, I always say. It might not make sense yet, but it will in just a couple of chapters. If the chapters ever make the transition from my thoughts to my monitor. That wasn't a threat, mind you, I'm not going to hold my work hostage. I've just started writing and its difficult to do prolonged work without some kind of response. Anyway, I want any criticsm, but particularly anything about writing quality or the plot. And if you want me to love you forever, you can be my beta.

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