=-A/N: I do not own any of the characters except Hanos and Kaurea.
All the rest belong to the greatest author in the world, J.R.R Tolkien. I
think that this fic is a little bit AU, and I also work off of the fact
that Lord Elrond is Aragorn's adoptive father. So, hence, Aragorn calls
Elrond 'Ada' and Elrond calls Aragorn 'Estel'. One more note- I admit that
this starts out a little Mary-Sue-like. It will change. ^_^=-
Kaurea: timid
Aragorn stood, his bow drawn and carefully aimed at the wandering orc spy, taking careful and silent steps as he trailed him down the dead end road. It had been just his luck to happen to get watch duty the days following one of the heaviest rainstorms they had seen in years. While the perfect earth of Rivendell had remained firm as always, the surrounding area had become one rather deep pit of mud. He had been out scouting for days, and the mud had crusted onto all of his clothing and even his hair. It was just around dawn now, and small shafts of light had just about begun to peek over the horizon.
With a loud grunt, the orc reached a high stone cliff where the road came to an end. Yet just as he turned around, Aragorn let his arrow fly true, striking the orc perfectly between his eyes. It fell into the mud and did not stir, so the next arrow that Aragorn had ready was not needed. He let out a loud sigh, then slung his bow back over his shoulder and continued on his way.
Elrohir and Elladan had gone to Lothlorien to visit Galadriel, leaving him to take their watch. It was not that he minded helping out his own brothers, he just was really not in the right mood to be traipsing around the borders killing orcs and questioning well meaning visitors. He was cold and muddy, and at the moment there was nothing he would have liked better than a warm bed and the blessed food of the elves.
Fate had another plan, obviously. For as soon as he sat down to make camp for the morning so he may have a bite to eat before continuing on, he heard a faint voice calling out in elvish, screaming for help. He instantly jumped to his feet and pulled out his sword, then ran to the spot where he thought the cries were coming from.
It did not take him long to find the source, for his ears were very keen and finely tuned, and his footsteps were light and quick. The voice lead him to a small clearing and what he found there amazed him. A number of humans lay dead in a circle on the ground, riddled with orc arrows. In the center of the circle lay a little elf child, curled into a small ball with an arrow sticking from his side.
At least, Aragorn assumed it to be a boy. But as he drew closer, he found that it was a girl, only with her hair such a tangled mess and filled with mud and debris that she didn't look at all like what she might have if she were a little cleaner. Aragorn drew closer to the child, then kneeled down and put his hand on her shoulder, trying to judge if the little thing was even still alive.
"Mani marte, telella?" Aragorn murmured, running his experienced fingers over the child's body, discovering that she was still alive but unconscious. His heart instantly went out to her, for she could not have been more than fifteen. Perhaps younger. Putting his hand on her forehead, he closed his eyes and pushed all of the little healing power he had into her.
Her forehead was covered in drops of sweat and he could see her eyes moving underneath the closed lids. Standing up, he shifted the weight of his bags around a little before gently picking her up, noticing another unusual thing. Her hands were bound together, as were her feet. But Aragorn did not think much about it now. He knew that the quicker he got her back to Rivendell and Lord Elrond, the better.
He had left his horse back in Rivendell, though he really began to wish he had it now. The girl was so skinny she wasn't even hard to carry, but he feared that he would be unable to get her to Rivendell in time. Her wound was a bad one, the arrow had pierced so deep into her flesh that Aragorn did not dare to even try to remove it. For that type of healing, you needed the skill of the elves.
"Ya naa tanya?" The voice of Hamos, chief guardian of the border gate, drifts over the tops of the gate as Aragorn stares up into the drawn bows of at least fifteen well-trained elven archers. He manages to reach a hand up to rub some of the mud off of his face with his sleeve, hoping that Hanos will recognize him even when he is covered in mud.
"Estel! You've returned... but what has happened? What is it that you carry?" Hamos questions, his pale eleven eyes drifting to the child as he motions for the gates to be opened. Aragorn staggers inside, the weight of the journey finally getting to him.
A few elves from the gate rush over to him and remove the child from his arms as he staggers over to lean against a nearby tree. Closing his eyes, he takes deep, even breaths trying to calm himself. He is so lost in this trance that he does not even notice Elrond come up behind him and touch him gently on the shoulder, a faint smile on his face.
"You have brought me another stray, I see, and spent all of you energy in the process. Go and retire to your room. Lithril will take your watch." Elrond said, gently guiding Aragorn towards the halls that held his room. He did not protest, but merely turned to Elrond with weary eyes, one question eating at his heart.
"Ada, will the girl live?" He questions, pushing a strand of stiff hair out of his eyes. A soft yet faint smile crosses Elrond's face as he takes his hand off of Aragorn's shoulder. His eyes are clouded with worry, but he tries not to show it.
"I have not seen her yet. The other healers are with her now. I will do the best I can to save her, Estel, but I make no guarantees." Elrond says, his voice heavy. He knows inside how much Aragorn cares for other living things and the unexplainable kinship he feels with others who walk alone.
Slowly, Aragorn makes his way down the bright hallway and into his room, collapsing into bed without even changing out of his dirty travelling clothes.
///\\\
A wave of pain wracks my body as I gradually open my eyelids to a burst of light and a stern, dark-haired man looking down at me. Man? Or... elf? Is this what heaven is like? I know I still cannot be among the living. No, not after what happened.
The only thing that convinces me that I am sadly still alive is the constant streams of pain flowing through the wound in my side, followed by the cool touch of the elf's hand upon my forehead. I struggle against his hand, somehow managing to pull myself into a sitting position.
"Shh, telella. Lle tyava quel?" The man asks as he pushes me back down. The words sound strange and alien to my ears, long accustomed to only hearing the harsh words of the human people for so long. For a moment, I am too shocked to say anything at all.
"Yes...better than before." I whispered, bring a tentative hand to my side and feeling for the orc arrow, then bringing my hand up to my neck and feeling for any sign of a scar. Nothing remains in either place. The elf looks at me strangely as he gracefully rises to his feet, walking over to a small basin near my bed and carefully dipping a cloth into a liquid lying in a basin.
"We found you rather strangely, my child. Do you remember what happened?" He questions gently as he places the cloth across my brow. A cool feeling sweeps my body, relieving me of all my pain spare a dull throb. I choose to ignore his question for the moment and instead close my eyes, trying to relax and concentrating on the pure feeling of simply being alive.
"Do you have a name?" He asks, not yet choosing to leave me alone. A small sigh escapes my lips as I try to think of what I was called before, my elven name. Sadly, I could remember nothing of the elves that were my parents, or the life I lived before. Shaking my head, I allowed a little shiver to creep through my body as I remembered the life I had been forced to live for the past thirteen years.
"Do not worry... I shall not press you for answers now. Just rest." The elf says, adjusting the cloth on my forehead before rising from the spot where he was sitting, crossing the room, and then leaving. I slowly close my eyes, allowing my dreams to carry me away.
Quenya Phrases:
Mani marte, telella? – What happened, little elf?
Ya naa tanya? - Who is it?
Shh, telella. Lle tyava quel? – Shh, little elf. Do you feel well?
Estel- Aragorn's elven name. Means "hope".
Ada- father
Kaurea: timid
A/N: Next chapter will be a little longer and go a bit deeper ^^ I promise. Till then, send me a review. While I will continue it without any reviews, they do encourage me to do it a heck of a lot faster.
Aragorn stood, his bow drawn and carefully aimed at the wandering orc spy, taking careful and silent steps as he trailed him down the dead end road. It had been just his luck to happen to get watch duty the days following one of the heaviest rainstorms they had seen in years. While the perfect earth of Rivendell had remained firm as always, the surrounding area had become one rather deep pit of mud. He had been out scouting for days, and the mud had crusted onto all of his clothing and even his hair. It was just around dawn now, and small shafts of light had just about begun to peek over the horizon.
With a loud grunt, the orc reached a high stone cliff where the road came to an end. Yet just as he turned around, Aragorn let his arrow fly true, striking the orc perfectly between his eyes. It fell into the mud and did not stir, so the next arrow that Aragorn had ready was not needed. He let out a loud sigh, then slung his bow back over his shoulder and continued on his way.
Elrohir and Elladan had gone to Lothlorien to visit Galadriel, leaving him to take their watch. It was not that he minded helping out his own brothers, he just was really not in the right mood to be traipsing around the borders killing orcs and questioning well meaning visitors. He was cold and muddy, and at the moment there was nothing he would have liked better than a warm bed and the blessed food of the elves.
Fate had another plan, obviously. For as soon as he sat down to make camp for the morning so he may have a bite to eat before continuing on, he heard a faint voice calling out in elvish, screaming for help. He instantly jumped to his feet and pulled out his sword, then ran to the spot where he thought the cries were coming from.
It did not take him long to find the source, for his ears were very keen and finely tuned, and his footsteps were light and quick. The voice lead him to a small clearing and what he found there amazed him. A number of humans lay dead in a circle on the ground, riddled with orc arrows. In the center of the circle lay a little elf child, curled into a small ball with an arrow sticking from his side.
At least, Aragorn assumed it to be a boy. But as he drew closer, he found that it was a girl, only with her hair such a tangled mess and filled with mud and debris that she didn't look at all like what she might have if she were a little cleaner. Aragorn drew closer to the child, then kneeled down and put his hand on her shoulder, trying to judge if the little thing was even still alive.
"Mani marte, telella?" Aragorn murmured, running his experienced fingers over the child's body, discovering that she was still alive but unconscious. His heart instantly went out to her, for she could not have been more than fifteen. Perhaps younger. Putting his hand on her forehead, he closed his eyes and pushed all of the little healing power he had into her.
Her forehead was covered in drops of sweat and he could see her eyes moving underneath the closed lids. Standing up, he shifted the weight of his bags around a little before gently picking her up, noticing another unusual thing. Her hands were bound together, as were her feet. But Aragorn did not think much about it now. He knew that the quicker he got her back to Rivendell and Lord Elrond, the better.
He had left his horse back in Rivendell, though he really began to wish he had it now. The girl was so skinny she wasn't even hard to carry, but he feared that he would be unable to get her to Rivendell in time. Her wound was a bad one, the arrow had pierced so deep into her flesh that Aragorn did not dare to even try to remove it. For that type of healing, you needed the skill of the elves.
"Ya naa tanya?" The voice of Hamos, chief guardian of the border gate, drifts over the tops of the gate as Aragorn stares up into the drawn bows of at least fifteen well-trained elven archers. He manages to reach a hand up to rub some of the mud off of his face with his sleeve, hoping that Hanos will recognize him even when he is covered in mud.
"Estel! You've returned... but what has happened? What is it that you carry?" Hamos questions, his pale eleven eyes drifting to the child as he motions for the gates to be opened. Aragorn staggers inside, the weight of the journey finally getting to him.
A few elves from the gate rush over to him and remove the child from his arms as he staggers over to lean against a nearby tree. Closing his eyes, he takes deep, even breaths trying to calm himself. He is so lost in this trance that he does not even notice Elrond come up behind him and touch him gently on the shoulder, a faint smile on his face.
"You have brought me another stray, I see, and spent all of you energy in the process. Go and retire to your room. Lithril will take your watch." Elrond said, gently guiding Aragorn towards the halls that held his room. He did not protest, but merely turned to Elrond with weary eyes, one question eating at his heart.
"Ada, will the girl live?" He questions, pushing a strand of stiff hair out of his eyes. A soft yet faint smile crosses Elrond's face as he takes his hand off of Aragorn's shoulder. His eyes are clouded with worry, but he tries not to show it.
"I have not seen her yet. The other healers are with her now. I will do the best I can to save her, Estel, but I make no guarantees." Elrond says, his voice heavy. He knows inside how much Aragorn cares for other living things and the unexplainable kinship he feels with others who walk alone.
Slowly, Aragorn makes his way down the bright hallway and into his room, collapsing into bed without even changing out of his dirty travelling clothes.
///\\\
A wave of pain wracks my body as I gradually open my eyelids to a burst of light and a stern, dark-haired man looking down at me. Man? Or... elf? Is this what heaven is like? I know I still cannot be among the living. No, not after what happened.
The only thing that convinces me that I am sadly still alive is the constant streams of pain flowing through the wound in my side, followed by the cool touch of the elf's hand upon my forehead. I struggle against his hand, somehow managing to pull myself into a sitting position.
"Shh, telella. Lle tyava quel?" The man asks as he pushes me back down. The words sound strange and alien to my ears, long accustomed to only hearing the harsh words of the human people for so long. For a moment, I am too shocked to say anything at all.
"Yes...better than before." I whispered, bring a tentative hand to my side and feeling for the orc arrow, then bringing my hand up to my neck and feeling for any sign of a scar. Nothing remains in either place. The elf looks at me strangely as he gracefully rises to his feet, walking over to a small basin near my bed and carefully dipping a cloth into a liquid lying in a basin.
"We found you rather strangely, my child. Do you remember what happened?" He questions gently as he places the cloth across my brow. A cool feeling sweeps my body, relieving me of all my pain spare a dull throb. I choose to ignore his question for the moment and instead close my eyes, trying to relax and concentrating on the pure feeling of simply being alive.
"Do you have a name?" He asks, not yet choosing to leave me alone. A small sigh escapes my lips as I try to think of what I was called before, my elven name. Sadly, I could remember nothing of the elves that were my parents, or the life I lived before. Shaking my head, I allowed a little shiver to creep through my body as I remembered the life I had been forced to live for the past thirteen years.
"Do not worry... I shall not press you for answers now. Just rest." The elf says, adjusting the cloth on my forehead before rising from the spot where he was sitting, crossing the room, and then leaving. I slowly close my eyes, allowing my dreams to carry me away.
Quenya Phrases:
Mani marte, telella? – What happened, little elf?
Ya naa tanya? - Who is it?
Shh, telella. Lle tyava quel? – Shh, little elf. Do you feel well?
Estel- Aragorn's elven name. Means "hope".
Ada- father
Kaurea: timid
A/N: Next chapter will be a little longer and go a bit deeper ^^ I promise. Till then, send me a review. While I will continue it without any reviews, they do encourage me to do it a heck of a lot faster.