And now, the moment you've all been waiting for…

No, not the second chapter! That comes later. The answer to the burning question. Did I get flamed? Did Denethor steal those flames and use them to burn Faramir? Is Faramir now dead?

The answer is….

No!

Faramir: Thank you for not flaming.

Denethor: I hate you all. returns to his miserable life

There you have it!

Well I suppose I should actually continue the story now… remember it's still Arwen's POV. Oh, and this is a bit AU. In the books Aragorn doesn't meet Gandalf until he goes into the Wild, but I thought this chapter would be a lot better if he met him before.


Aragorn settles comfortably in his chair, still wearing the grin he acquired from my tale. Clearing his throat, he begins his story.

"When I was fifteen, Gandalf came to visit Rivendell," he says. "It was rumored that he brought with him a huge keg of the best ale in Hobbiton. And I, being young and foolish, desperately wanted a drink of that ale."

"You still want a drink of every good ale you come across," I point out.

He blushes slightly. "Well, yes," he admits. "But I hadn't had ale before then. Elladan and Elrohir had, but your father never let me have any. He thought I was too young," he sighs. "Elladan asked Gandalf about the ale, and he answered in a riddle as he always did. The only thing he made clear was that he wouldn't give it away to young Elves or Men."

"And that, of course, only made it more appealing," I say, rolling my eyes. I remember the mischief my brothers used to get into. Being raised around them, I imagine Aragorn was much the same.

"I suppose it did. Your brothers and I decided to go on a quest to get the ale." He says it so solemnly that I can't help but laugh. I cover my mouth when I receive a glare.

"A quest to get the ale," I repeat.

"We figured the keg was in the room Gandalf was staying in. We planned our mission for days," he continues. "Elrohir would distract Elrond and Gandalf by faking an injury. While they were occupied, Elladan would break into Gandalf's room and find the ale, then give it to me. I would rush it back to my room, and then we were going to drink every last bit."

"A reasonable plan," I say, trying not to giggle.

"That's what we thought. But everything that could possibly go wrong did," he sighs sadly. "It started with Elrohir."

"I knew he would ruin your plans!" I exclaim, remembering all the times Elrohir's schemes had ended with us getting in trouble with Ada. "What did he do?"

"Instead of faking an injury, he got a real one. He went riding the day before we were going to steal the keg. His horse threw him and he sprained his ankle." Aragorn looks up thoughtfully. "Nasty sprain, too."

"Elladan told me about that when I returned from Lothlorien. He seemed angry about it."

"It nearly ruined all our plans! We had to begin the quest a day before we planned to. At least Elrond and Gandlaf were distracted," he admits. "But because of the injury, more things went awry."

He seems to reflect for a moment, and I wait patiently for him to continue.

"Elrond made Elladan help him tend to Elrohir's ankle. No matter how much they both protested, Elrond would not let Elladan escape. So the mission was left to me," he says grimly.

"You didn't give up?" I ask.

From the incredulous look I receive, I might as well have asked if Aragorn would relinquish his kingdom to the Easterlings. "Of course not! This is the best ale in Hobbiton we're talking about! The quest had to go on."

I nod and successfully hide a smile.

"I sneaked through the halls, making sure to avoid Elrohir's room. When I reached Gandalf's room, I reached another obstacle. The door was locked."

"So you leaned against the door and jiggled the handle back and forth four times," I guess.

Aragorn looks confused. "Why would I have done that?"

"All the doors in the House of Elrond have faulty locks," I explain. "All you have to do is lean on them and wiggle the handle four times. You didn't know that?"

He shakes his head.

"I thought my brothers would have told you that," I say. "They were the ones who figured it out."

"It would have saved me time," he grumbles.

"What did you do instead?"

He looks at me sheepishly. "I took a chair from the dining hall and used it as a battering ram. Gandalf's door was down in no time."

"You broke down his door with a chair?" I laugh.

"I didn't know about the lock trick!" Aragorn says defensively. He waits until I stop laughing to continue.

"It wasn't hard to find the keg. There it was, under his bed, with part of it sticking out. It was a little too easy, but I didn't care. I hauled out the keg and dragged it to my chambers."

"That sounds easy enough," I say.

"Yes. The keg was mine! Hours of ale were to follow for the twins and I, if we were to have our way. But it wasn't so."

"Did Gandalf catch you?"

"Eventually." Aragorn says. "There was something odd about this keg. I heard no liquid sloshing in it, and there was no way for the ale to come out. I needed to pierce a hole in it, and I had nothing sharp enough."

I notice Aragorn starting to look sheepish again. "What did you do?" I ask slowly.

"I stole the shards of Narsil."

All the laughter that has been building up during his tale bursts from my lips. "They were yours!" I say through my giggles.

"I didn't know that! I thought for sure I was going to be punished for touching such a valuable heirloom!" he cries. "I went into Elrohir's room and, when Elrond was out of earshot, I told Elladan that the mission was complete. When Elrohir found out, he told us to go ahead and drink the ale, but to save him a third of the keg."

"Elladan and I went into my room. I was to get the first drink, since I had completed the quest alone. We were so eager to drink that we didn't even get mugs from the kitchen. I knelt under the keg, and Elladan pierced a hole in the wood so I could drink. But it was not ale that flowed from the keg, it was horrible tasting white powder!"

"A barrel full of powder? What for?" I ask.

"Apparently it was the stuff Gandalf makes his fireworks with. We were so mad! We wanted that ale so badly!" Aragorn says, frowning. "I let out a scream, and started choking on the powder. Gandalf ran in. When he saw me, he started laughing so hard I thought he would collapse," he says. "Gandalf made me spit out the powder, and then he told us that there had been no ale."

"No ale?" I laugh.

"No ale! The quest was folly!" He stands up. "But no longer will I give in to my desire for ale."

"Are you sure?" I tease. "If Pippin ever comes to visit, I'm sure he'd bring you some of the best ale he can find!"

Aragorn smiles. "At least I didn't burn down the dining hall…"

"Now I see why you've never had an appreciation for fireworks…"

Still teasing each other, we retire for the night.


It's over! Not the best fic, I'll be the first to admit. But there will be better fics soon. I've been writing like crazy. I'm not sure what the next one will be, but please check it out! And maybe a review or two? Flames accepted, I'll just have to hide Faramir…