This is the second chapter of the old version.
Sauron's anger would have continued to grow if he had known the whole truth. The truth being that when Elrond had arrived to rescue Gilrain, he had told her to empty out a chest. In that chest they had placed the sleeping Aragorn, not yet even two years old, on a rich red robe that had belonged to one of his ancestors. They had closed the chest and loaded it on the wagon as if it were nothing more than baggage and the boy slept there comfortably under an elven spell all the way into the safety of Rivendell, there-bye fooling the watchful Nazgul into believe there was never even a child. Once in Rivendell, Elrond took the boy, whom he called Estel and raised the child as his own son and the elf twins, now the Heir's brothers, taught him the ways of an elf. Estel learned and grew quickly. He spoke in an elven tongue and hunted and moved in their ways. Elrond hid Estel's true lineage from him, regretting only that the boy was confused about the truth of his father. It was clear to see that Estel longed to know about his father from the day some elf children cruelly pointed out that he was not an elf like his brothers or his father. Elrond had been torn then and Gilrain had cried when the boy had questioned who he was and where he had come from. Elrond could not answer the boy, telling him merely that he was more elf than he thought. After all, he was descended from Luthien herself, though he did not need to know that, lest he discover his true ancestry.
The boy grew strong and his skills as a swordsman and tracker were almost as good as that of a real elf. Elrond had long since realized that Estel was fast approaching the time when he must be told the truth. This was something Elrond looked forward to and feared, for no doubt Estel would accept his lineage and be proud, but the truth would take him from Rivendell and thrust him into great danger. Estel had finally reached his twentieth year and Elrond felt it was time, especially when Estel stumbled across Arwen, Elrond's unexplainably beautiful daughter, the Evenstar of the elves. Estel fell immediately in love with her. Elrond was grieved, for the air seemed to sing of his love and even at that moment, Elrond knew his daughter would never cross the sea with him. This was a thought he could not bear, and when Estel came to ask Elrond for permission to marry Arwen, Elrond told Estel, who he now proudly called Aragorn son of Arathorn, the whole truth, gently reminding him of the reason why the story of Isildur had been taught to him from such a young age. Aragorn was, to say the least, shocked. However, there was no doubt or argument on his part. He only asked Elrond, "Father.what do I have to do?" Elrond had sighed heavily, as if overcome by a great burden and sadness, and bid Estel.no.Aragorn to sit. Elrond explained to the hansom young human what his fate was, to the best of his ability, promising Aragorn that when the time came that he took his place on the throne of Gondor in the White City, Elrond would give him Arwen's hand in marriage, secretly hoping that Arwen would never return feelings to Aragorn.
Aragorn spent two days wandering Imladris and thinking, while Gilrain waited for him, fearful of where his thoughts would take him, well knowing that they would most likely take him far away from her. Gilrain's intuition proved to be true, for when Aragorn returned, he was determined to leave Rivendell and join his father's people in the North, the Rangers. He felt this was what not only his blood father would have wanted, but also what Elrond would surely approve of.
Aragorn son of Arathorn, also known as Estel, left Rivendell with very little but a horse, given to him by Lord Elrond, a sword forged as a gift by his brothers, an elven cloak, and finally a smile from Arwen and a kiss on the forehead from his mother. Estel rode away from his childhood home, the place he loved, not even stopping to look back. His heart yearned to stay there with his mother, with his beloved brothers and kind father, and most of all his heart cried out for Arwen, but fate called and tugged at his conscious. The Heir of Isildur rode high, little knowing how much he must have looked like Isildur himself would have, riding on his own horse years ago.
For years, Aragorn wandered the wilderness, leading the Rangers who seemed to have parted their ranks, sending Aragorn all the way to the front to lead them without argument or question. It was a happy day when Aragorn, known among the elves sill as Estel, but also as Dunadan to the Rangers, came to the aid of a wizard fighting off wargs on a dark and exceptionally rainy night. The two of them made quick work of the wargs and Aragorn came into the acquaintance of Gandalf the Grey. Gandalf knew from the moment he laid eyes on the dark, weather trodden young man that this was Aragorn son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur. In that moment, it became clear to Gandalf that evil was indeed gathering again and there would not be a future Heir that would right Isildur's folly. This was the man who would see that no matter what the one ring was destroyed and Sauron defeated. The two of them became fast friends and Aragorn soon became embroiled in whatever Gandalf had up his sleeve. Aragorn traveled far and wide, even to Gondor and Rohan, the lands of his ancestors. There he went by the name Thorongil and served both Thengel of Rohan and Ecthelion II of Gondor. The years passed quickly and there were rare visits to Rivendell where Aragorn searched each time for his brothers and even for Arwen, but she had returned to Lorien where she stayed with her grandmother. Chance had it that one of Aragorn's many missions carried him there, to Lorien, where he once again stood face to face with Arwen. Arwen had found, much to her surprise, that she cared deeply for Aragorn, and on the top of Cerin Amroth they pledged their love for each other, Aragorn giving her Barahir's ring. There, Arwen promised him that she would bind herself to him, no matter what, forsaking her immortality to be with him forever.
Aragorn was a mysterious character as he wandered, doing good, but trusted by few. He was known by many names, the most popular being Strider, given in evidence of his long legs and powerful stride. Few had made the mistake of crossing him though after a short yet remarkable altercation at an inn, The Prancing Pony, in Bree. From that moment on, the story of a tall, dark Ranger who could dispatch five strong foes in such a short time all by himself spread like wildfire and few bothered to do anything but cower from him when he was in sight and tell of stories that might have even been true about the Ranger known only to them as Strider. Aragorn little minded this and was more amused as he learned about the world and Sauron's far reaching claws of darkness. He grew care worn, but in rare moments, he smiled and there was the man, or exactly the future King of Gondor, standing proud and looking serenely about.
Gandalf had sent word to him by way of a bird when he had discovered the ring at Frodo's house and Aragorn had been crushed, for his time had come. Strider had struggled greatly with his identity, proud that he was indeed of noble heritage and the work of many of his ancestors had been good, but he feared Isildur's folly with the ring. Most of all he feared how he would handle the ring. He was afraid that just as Isildur had failed, he would too, for the same blood ran in his veins. Often Arwen had assured him that he should not worry, but it did not keep the king that would be from that very thing. He set out to help Gandalf in any way he could and it was lucky that he did, for he found the hobbits alone in Bree and rescued them from the Nazgul. Aragorn hated the black riders and feared their evil, but was not afraid to face them. He led the hobbits as best he could, somewhat nervous about the fact that Frodo carried the ring, that small piece of metal that so much of his destiny seemed to be tied to.
Aragorn cursed himself for his mistake at Weathertop, knowing full well that he never should have left the hobbits there alone. He carried Frodo on with a heavy heart, praying that he would reach Rivendell in time. Frodo grew worse and the Nazgul drew closer. In desperation, Aragorn sought the king's foil plant and was indeed caught off his guard. He would never forget the cold steel resting under his chin and the light voice of the most beautiful creature in all of Middle Earth mocking him gently.indeed, a ranger caught off his guard. Letting her go and take Frodo was one of the hardest decisions he ever had to make, placing Frodo out of his control and risking Arwen, all that he held dear. So he did what he could to give her time and she rode hard. In the end, she had been right and there in Rivendell, only two day later, they were all safe, resting and breathing. Aragorn wished he could rest and relax once there, but he knew that it was impossible for there was more to come.
Sauron's anger would have continued to grow if he had known the whole truth. The truth being that when Elrond had arrived to rescue Gilrain, he had told her to empty out a chest. In that chest they had placed the sleeping Aragorn, not yet even two years old, on a rich red robe that had belonged to one of his ancestors. They had closed the chest and loaded it on the wagon as if it were nothing more than baggage and the boy slept there comfortably under an elven spell all the way into the safety of Rivendell, there-bye fooling the watchful Nazgul into believe there was never even a child. Once in Rivendell, Elrond took the boy, whom he called Estel and raised the child as his own son and the elf twins, now the Heir's brothers, taught him the ways of an elf. Estel learned and grew quickly. He spoke in an elven tongue and hunted and moved in their ways. Elrond hid Estel's true lineage from him, regretting only that the boy was confused about the truth of his father. It was clear to see that Estel longed to know about his father from the day some elf children cruelly pointed out that he was not an elf like his brothers or his father. Elrond had been torn then and Gilrain had cried when the boy had questioned who he was and where he had come from. Elrond could not answer the boy, telling him merely that he was more elf than he thought. After all, he was descended from Luthien herself, though he did not need to know that, lest he discover his true ancestry.
The boy grew strong and his skills as a swordsman and tracker were almost as good as that of a real elf. Elrond had long since realized that Estel was fast approaching the time when he must be told the truth. This was something Elrond looked forward to and feared, for no doubt Estel would accept his lineage and be proud, but the truth would take him from Rivendell and thrust him into great danger. Estel had finally reached his twentieth year and Elrond felt it was time, especially when Estel stumbled across Arwen, Elrond's unexplainably beautiful daughter, the Evenstar of the elves. Estel fell immediately in love with her. Elrond was grieved, for the air seemed to sing of his love and even at that moment, Elrond knew his daughter would never cross the sea with him. This was a thought he could not bear, and when Estel came to ask Elrond for permission to marry Arwen, Elrond told Estel, who he now proudly called Aragorn son of Arathorn, the whole truth, gently reminding him of the reason why the story of Isildur had been taught to him from such a young age. Aragorn was, to say the least, shocked. However, there was no doubt or argument on his part. He only asked Elrond, "Father.what do I have to do?" Elrond had sighed heavily, as if overcome by a great burden and sadness, and bid Estel.no.Aragorn to sit. Elrond explained to the hansom young human what his fate was, to the best of his ability, promising Aragorn that when the time came that he took his place on the throne of Gondor in the White City, Elrond would give him Arwen's hand in marriage, secretly hoping that Arwen would never return feelings to Aragorn.
Aragorn spent two days wandering Imladris and thinking, while Gilrain waited for him, fearful of where his thoughts would take him, well knowing that they would most likely take him far away from her. Gilrain's intuition proved to be true, for when Aragorn returned, he was determined to leave Rivendell and join his father's people in the North, the Rangers. He felt this was what not only his blood father would have wanted, but also what Elrond would surely approve of.
Aragorn son of Arathorn, also known as Estel, left Rivendell with very little but a horse, given to him by Lord Elrond, a sword forged as a gift by his brothers, an elven cloak, and finally a smile from Arwen and a kiss on the forehead from his mother. Estel rode away from his childhood home, the place he loved, not even stopping to look back. His heart yearned to stay there with his mother, with his beloved brothers and kind father, and most of all his heart cried out for Arwen, but fate called and tugged at his conscious. The Heir of Isildur rode high, little knowing how much he must have looked like Isildur himself would have, riding on his own horse years ago.
For years, Aragorn wandered the wilderness, leading the Rangers who seemed to have parted their ranks, sending Aragorn all the way to the front to lead them without argument or question. It was a happy day when Aragorn, known among the elves sill as Estel, but also as Dunadan to the Rangers, came to the aid of a wizard fighting off wargs on a dark and exceptionally rainy night. The two of them made quick work of the wargs and Aragorn came into the acquaintance of Gandalf the Grey. Gandalf knew from the moment he laid eyes on the dark, weather trodden young man that this was Aragorn son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur. In that moment, it became clear to Gandalf that evil was indeed gathering again and there would not be a future Heir that would right Isildur's folly. This was the man who would see that no matter what the one ring was destroyed and Sauron defeated. The two of them became fast friends and Aragorn soon became embroiled in whatever Gandalf had up his sleeve. Aragorn traveled far and wide, even to Gondor and Rohan, the lands of his ancestors. There he went by the name Thorongil and served both Thengel of Rohan and Ecthelion II of Gondor. The years passed quickly and there were rare visits to Rivendell where Aragorn searched each time for his brothers and even for Arwen, but she had returned to Lorien where she stayed with her grandmother. Chance had it that one of Aragorn's many missions carried him there, to Lorien, where he once again stood face to face with Arwen. Arwen had found, much to her surprise, that she cared deeply for Aragorn, and on the top of Cerin Amroth they pledged their love for each other, Aragorn giving her Barahir's ring. There, Arwen promised him that she would bind herself to him, no matter what, forsaking her immortality to be with him forever.
Aragorn was a mysterious character as he wandered, doing good, but trusted by few. He was known by many names, the most popular being Strider, given in evidence of his long legs and powerful stride. Few had made the mistake of crossing him though after a short yet remarkable altercation at an inn, The Prancing Pony, in Bree. From that moment on, the story of a tall, dark Ranger who could dispatch five strong foes in such a short time all by himself spread like wildfire and few bothered to do anything but cower from him when he was in sight and tell of stories that might have even been true about the Ranger known only to them as Strider. Aragorn little minded this and was more amused as he learned about the world and Sauron's far reaching claws of darkness. He grew care worn, but in rare moments, he smiled and there was the man, or exactly the future King of Gondor, standing proud and looking serenely about.
Gandalf had sent word to him by way of a bird when he had discovered the ring at Frodo's house and Aragorn had been crushed, for his time had come. Strider had struggled greatly with his identity, proud that he was indeed of noble heritage and the work of many of his ancestors had been good, but he feared Isildur's folly with the ring. Most of all he feared how he would handle the ring. He was afraid that just as Isildur had failed, he would too, for the same blood ran in his veins. Often Arwen had assured him that he should not worry, but it did not keep the king that would be from that very thing. He set out to help Gandalf in any way he could and it was lucky that he did, for he found the hobbits alone in Bree and rescued them from the Nazgul. Aragorn hated the black riders and feared their evil, but was not afraid to face them. He led the hobbits as best he could, somewhat nervous about the fact that Frodo carried the ring, that small piece of metal that so much of his destiny seemed to be tied to.
Aragorn cursed himself for his mistake at Weathertop, knowing full well that he never should have left the hobbits there alone. He carried Frodo on with a heavy heart, praying that he would reach Rivendell in time. Frodo grew worse and the Nazgul drew closer. In desperation, Aragorn sought the king's foil plant and was indeed caught off his guard. He would never forget the cold steel resting under his chin and the light voice of the most beautiful creature in all of Middle Earth mocking him gently.indeed, a ranger caught off his guard. Letting her go and take Frodo was one of the hardest decisions he ever had to make, placing Frodo out of his control and risking Arwen, all that he held dear. So he did what he could to give her time and she rode hard. In the end, she had been right and there in Rivendell, only two day later, they were all safe, resting and breathing. Aragorn wished he could rest and relax once there, but he knew that it was impossible for there was more to come.