A New Way of Life
Chapter 1: The Herb
Disclaimer: Well you probably know the rigmarole (story), but I'll say it anyway. most of the places, people, or things in this story come form Lord of the Rings. They are J. R. R. Tolkien's and not mine.
Background: For those of you who don't know or forgot or whatever, here is a little basic background for my story. Arathorn II, Aragorn's dad was killed when Aragorn was only two. His mother, Gilraen, took Aragorn to Rivendell (Imladris) for protection. Elrond agreed to take Aragorn in as a foster-child and called him Estel (elvish for Hope) and hid his past, name, and history from him; and thus the outside world, where Sauron was looking for any with the Numenorean Kings blood. For 18 years he lived in ignorance but when he reached 20, three things happened. One: Elrond told him his true name, linage, and past, and gave him the shards of Narsil and the ring of Barahir. Two: Aragorn met Arwen, who has just come from Lorien (Lothlorien) where her mother's folk dwell. Three: Aragorn goes out into the wild. This is where my story starts.
Note: I may have gotten some facts wrong, and if I did, and you notice, please tell me and I will try to change it A.S.A.P. (as soon as possible). Oh, yeah, and thoughts are in italics.
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Aragorn, Aragorn? As a lonesome man walked along, his head swung to and fro, automatically checking everything and automatically trying to be quiet, in which he succeeded very well in, better than most people. But his face did not show his pride; it showed his confusion and desperation to come to grips with reality. He looked at his two hands, his left hand, Estel, foster-son of Elrond, master of Rivendell? And his right hand, which bore the ring of Barahir upon his ring finger, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, descended in direct line from the greatest of Numenoren Kings? Who am I? His thoughts turned dark yet again as he dispiritedly put his hands down at his side. But his right hand found there another reminder of his parting with Rivendell, Narsil. The broken sword that had killed Sauron, the sword that was broken, in a sword sheath, at his side! At Estel's side! He thought with pride, then his pride quickly down spiraled back into loss. No, no, Aragorn's side.. He felt a loss for his innocence, and an easy past. Suddenly he looked up, the sky was growing dark and he realized as his belly growled at him angrily that he had not eaten all day.
He shot a rabbit and gathered some herbs for a stew. As he picked some wild carrots, he accidentally picked some wild, blue flowers with the white, lacelike flower of the carrot. He was about to throw away the blue- flowered weed but stopped. Something in him called to it and it to him. He did not understand it but cut some more pieces and carried them back to his makeshift camp to study. As he stirred the stew over the fire with his right hand he flipped over the leaves and flowers of the plant with his left hand. He wondered, his brows furrowing in concentration. He felt as if he was reaching for something in the dark he knew should be there but it was just out of reach.
All of the sudden, his finger slipped, and he crushed several leaves and flowers as they slipped into the pot. Cursing he dug around in the hot water for the plant, spilling some into the fire by accident, which only caused his curses to go louder and more angrier. I hope this isn't poisonous and messes up my stew! He finally managed to dig out most of the flowers but I was a hopeless case to dig out the leaves amongst all the other herbs. But his mind was brought screaming back to the present when he smelled the sweetened air and he realized his worries of who he was, where he was going to go, and what about tomorrow, weren't as pressing now, his burden had been lifted slightly, but noticeably. He double-checked himself, then looked thoughtfully at the stew, then smiled and laughed,
"I don't know what you are little flower, but I have never heard of you before. So I will take you on my way in case someone else does." He stirred the pot one more time then quickly went back to where he had first found the plant, and cut off more leaves and flowers. After a second thought he gathered some seeds as well, Can't hurt. He want back and carefully rolled the seeds, leaves, and flowers in an old tunic and tucked it carefully in his pack.
He then ate his stew, he was half surprised to feel himself feeling better, stronger, more determined. He didn't know what was out there, but he was going to find out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
That's it. Next he meets people, he doesn't just talk to himself, promise! Well, Please review, I don't know if I should go on or if I am any good at all, thanks for reading!
~Kit ;)
Chapter 1: The Herb
Disclaimer: Well you probably know the rigmarole (story), but I'll say it anyway. most of the places, people, or things in this story come form Lord of the Rings. They are J. R. R. Tolkien's and not mine.
Background: For those of you who don't know or forgot or whatever, here is a little basic background for my story. Arathorn II, Aragorn's dad was killed when Aragorn was only two. His mother, Gilraen, took Aragorn to Rivendell (Imladris) for protection. Elrond agreed to take Aragorn in as a foster-child and called him Estel (elvish for Hope) and hid his past, name, and history from him; and thus the outside world, where Sauron was looking for any with the Numenorean Kings blood. For 18 years he lived in ignorance but when he reached 20, three things happened. One: Elrond told him his true name, linage, and past, and gave him the shards of Narsil and the ring of Barahir. Two: Aragorn met Arwen, who has just come from Lorien (Lothlorien) where her mother's folk dwell. Three: Aragorn goes out into the wild. This is where my story starts.
Note: I may have gotten some facts wrong, and if I did, and you notice, please tell me and I will try to change it A.S.A.P. (as soon as possible). Oh, yeah, and thoughts are in italics.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aragorn, Aragorn? As a lonesome man walked along, his head swung to and fro, automatically checking everything and automatically trying to be quiet, in which he succeeded very well in, better than most people. But his face did not show his pride; it showed his confusion and desperation to come to grips with reality. He looked at his two hands, his left hand, Estel, foster-son of Elrond, master of Rivendell? And his right hand, which bore the ring of Barahir upon his ring finger, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, descended in direct line from the greatest of Numenoren Kings? Who am I? His thoughts turned dark yet again as he dispiritedly put his hands down at his side. But his right hand found there another reminder of his parting with Rivendell, Narsil. The broken sword that had killed Sauron, the sword that was broken, in a sword sheath, at his side! At Estel's side! He thought with pride, then his pride quickly down spiraled back into loss. No, no, Aragorn's side.. He felt a loss for his innocence, and an easy past. Suddenly he looked up, the sky was growing dark and he realized as his belly growled at him angrily that he had not eaten all day.
He shot a rabbit and gathered some herbs for a stew. As he picked some wild carrots, he accidentally picked some wild, blue flowers with the white, lacelike flower of the carrot. He was about to throw away the blue- flowered weed but stopped. Something in him called to it and it to him. He did not understand it but cut some more pieces and carried them back to his makeshift camp to study. As he stirred the stew over the fire with his right hand he flipped over the leaves and flowers of the plant with his left hand. He wondered, his brows furrowing in concentration. He felt as if he was reaching for something in the dark he knew should be there but it was just out of reach.
All of the sudden, his finger slipped, and he crushed several leaves and flowers as they slipped into the pot. Cursing he dug around in the hot water for the plant, spilling some into the fire by accident, which only caused his curses to go louder and more angrier. I hope this isn't poisonous and messes up my stew! He finally managed to dig out most of the flowers but I was a hopeless case to dig out the leaves amongst all the other herbs. But his mind was brought screaming back to the present when he smelled the sweetened air and he realized his worries of who he was, where he was going to go, and what about tomorrow, weren't as pressing now, his burden had been lifted slightly, but noticeably. He double-checked himself, then looked thoughtfully at the stew, then smiled and laughed,
"I don't know what you are little flower, but I have never heard of you before. So I will take you on my way in case someone else does." He stirred the pot one more time then quickly went back to where he had first found the plant, and cut off more leaves and flowers. After a second thought he gathered some seeds as well, Can't hurt. He want back and carefully rolled the seeds, leaves, and flowers in an old tunic and tucked it carefully in his pack.
He then ate his stew, he was half surprised to feel himself feeling better, stronger, more determined. He didn't know what was out there, but he was going to find out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
That's it. Next he meets people, he doesn't just talk to himself, promise! Well, Please review, I don't know if I should go on or if I am any good at all, thanks for reading!
~Kit ;)