Disclaimer: I do not own or make any form of profit from Tolkien's works, I only borrow his unique characters for my own fun.
a/n: first attempt at serious LoTR fiction. Smattering of Aragorn-isms as I feel show his spirit. Caution: does have change to suit his many names as it progresses, don't get confused. Also, in the end I do not have Aragorn and Arwen ride with the Hobbits. That change and minimal others are my tweaks.
song: Garth Brooks – The Change, denoted –blahblah--
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It had been a quiet day riding around the lands surrounding the forest edges of Rivendell. Estel had followed the Bruinen to the outer edges of the woods, bound for home only to stumble upon a small band of soldiers being attacked ruthlessly by a party of Orc. Wasting not a moment, he ground his heels into his horses flank and drew his sword, slaying beasts and spattering blue-black blood along the shores of Bruinen.
Many of the soldiers lay, bleeding to death in the stench of Orc entrails. The clean waters around them ran a sickening shade of crimson and ebony as the life of them was rinsed away, left to travel to the sea of Belegaer. A weak voice called from somewhere to the left, and Estel turned his horse to see three men still standing, flesh wounds dripping but moving under their own power. They were pulling an Orc off of a man, who moments later turned out to be no more than a boy.
Estel propped the lad in front of him, pointing at the bending river beside them and told the other three that he would take him to Rivendell. A party of Elves would come to their aid. The three smiled weakly and thanked him, cleaning their own wounds in the waters.
When he had returned to the doors of Rivendell, the boy clutched in his arms, his unconscious form bobbing as Estel bounded up stairs and through doorways.
Lord Elrond stood up in surprise as his foster son burst into his study, a child held protectively to his chest.
In a voice as calm as he could manage, Estel told his father of the men by the bend in the river and the Orc attack. Lord Elrond had the child taken away immediately and sent his twin sons to fetch the soldiers.
Estel sat uncomfortably outside of the shuttered doors, the weak cries of the young boy echoed the hallway and it took an extra reserve to stop himself from bursting through the thin partition and shooing the elves out of the room. A door at the end of the hall opened and his stepbrothers entered, alone. Estel stood, the look on his face already expressing the questions he would ask but Elrohir held up his hand and Estel clamped his mouth shut.
"When we arrived only one was alive and he was nearly dead. A warg must have been following the Orcs or the smell of blood…the others were already ravaged." He laid a hand on Estel's shoulder as the ranger nodded his shaggy head and shrugged away from the comforting gesture.
"When the boy is awake, get me. I wish to tell him myself." Estel walked quickly and quietly down the corridor, his leather boots clipping on the tile.
"Where will you be?" Elladan gave his twin a fleeting look of worry as he spoke down the hall to the man.
Estel looked over his shoulder. "I don't know." And he disappeared through the oak doors.
--One hand reaches out, and pulls a lost soul from harm.
While a thousand more go unspoken for.
And they say "What good have you done, by saving just this one?
It's like whispering a prayer, in the fury of a storm."--
Lord Elrond walked from the guest room. The boy looked better, his color had returned with a rather small appetite, but it was still an appetite nonetheless. He could see his sons, slumped together on a couch by the door, napping. He stood in front of them, looking down at their glassy eyes and cleared his throat. Elrohir shook his head lightly and stood before his father, Elladan sliding sideways came to as well and stood while running a palm down his face.
"How is the boy?" Elrohir asked. Elrond smiled lightly and nodded his head.
"He will eventually come around." Lord Elrond turned slowly in the hall and frowned. "Where is Estel?"
"We're not sure." Elladan shrugged his narrow shoulders. "He was upset after we returned and left bound for the gardens." Elrohir nodded his head in agreement.
"He asked that we tell him when the boy is awake. He wants to tell him about the deaths of his party." Elrohir pushed his hair from his shoulder.
Lord Elrond pursed his lips and held up a hand, pausing the twins as they began to look for their brother. "No, go rest. I'll find our Estel and tell him." The twins nodded respectfully to their father and Elrond turned, bound for the outside garden.
It took less than five minutes for the Lord to find his missing son. Whenever Estel was upset he would sit himself down between the lilac trees, partly because the smell cleansed his worried mind, and partly because they were located in a tangle of shrubs and thistle bushes where no one would think a person would go.
He couldn't see Estel, but he could hear the man mumbling to himself which was his custom when he came to the gardens to find solace and a peace of mind. Lord Elrond gingerly pushed aside a thistle bush and moved gracefully through the opening, sitting down on a small bench. He had it moved there for his estranged son to use when he was in one of his funks, but Estel had refused to sit on it, preferring to lie on his back and gaze up into the lilac limbs or pick thorns from the thistle brush.
It was no different now as Estel laid back, gazing up into the light purple flowers and a small twig of thorns in his hands. Lord Elrond sat in silence, waiting for Estel to acknowledge him. He didn't want to intrude on the man's thoughts and Estel always knew when he was near. Finally the man sat up slowly, picking small buds from his dangling hair and looked between the swaying locks up into Lord Elrond's face.
"What news?"
Lord Elrond plucked a line of thorns from his robes while he spoke. "The boy will recover fully within the next day. He has eaten some broth and lambas and is now sleeping."
Estel nodded, glad that the boy would recover and quietly wondering where the lad would go once he discovered his traveling companions had been killed. "It's not fair, you know."
Lord Elrond looked up from his robes and flicked a thorn into the nearby bushes. "What is not fair, Estel?"
"That a boy should be orphaned." Estel began to pull the thorns from the twig in his hand. Lord Elrond opened his mouth to speak but Estel's eyes were far away and his face had hardened. "How can there be an evil so great that it finds the orphaning of children and the widowing of wives a pleasant pastime?"
Lord Elrond's face softened. "There are things that are far greater than you can fathom that are in control on Middle Earth."
Estel slammed his fist into the ground beside him. "There must be something that can be done!"
Lord Elrond's voice had dropped in tone and his son looked up at him with a slightly guilty look. "You think you will save the world one day, young Estel, but it is not for a man to decide." Lord Elrond stood and motioned for Estel to follow. When the elder spoke again his voice had gone back to its normal soft tone. "Enough of this depressing talk. It is time to come inside, dinner will be waiting."
Estel followed his father through the tangle of garden foliage to the main doors, shaking leaves and dusting dirt from his tunic and leggings. He kept turning over what he had been told in his head, but the more he thought about it, the more he demanded to know why the fate of a world could not rest in the hands of one brave enough to fight for it.
--And I hear them saying, "You'll never change things.
And no matter what you do it's still the same thing."
But it's not the world that I am changing.
I do this so, this world will know that it will not change me.--
Arwen stood as her father and Estel entered the dining hall. Lord Elrond smiled and kissed the top of her head. Estel nodded absently at her and sat down to feast. Arwen frowned but left him to the thoughts that seemed to be plaguing him.
When the meal was finished she followed him quietly to the hall and took him by the arm. He smiled lightly at her and apologized for being so distant. Arwen smiled back and told him it was all right.
They walked silently for a while, Estel looking straight ahead and growing distant again. He slowly came out of it and surprised Arwen when he asked, "Do you wish I were more like an elf?"
They stopped in the middle of the hall and Arwen laughed until she saw that Estel was quite serious. "Why would you ask such a question?" She tucked a lock of thick hair behind his ear.
"All the elves seem to have such a grasp on the world. They are content to let it run its course as it is whether it is falling apart beneath their feet or not." Estel realized he was getting worked up and calmed himself before he continued. "I am not one of them, I am not immortal and all I have is a blink of an eye's time to an elf. I do not want to be old one day and think about how things may have been different if only I had acted instead of watched."
Arwen smiled sadly and pushed more hair from his face. "Do not give up your ambition for fear of how others will speak of you. It is your ways, so unlike the elves, that have drawn me to your side. Never doubt the love I have for you."
Estel smiled, some of the worry that had creased his face had melted away. He tilted his head and kissed her softly. "Thank you."
--This heart still believes, that love and mercy still exist.
While all the hatreds rage, and so many say that
"Love is all but pointless, in madness such as this.
It's like trying to stop a fire with the moisture from a kiss."--
Strider bit the pipe in his teeth and watched four Hobbits from under his brows. The two cousin's were playing some game or another with a handful of twigs. Samwise Gamgee was sitting beside them laughing at their antics and making helpful suggestions to their game.
He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, how the four of them had made it to the Inn was beyond his wisdom to know. How the fate of Middle Earth could rest in the small palms of a young Hobbit was another he had pondered and had yet to answer.
Frodo Baggins was sitting away from the others, finger stroking a small circle in his pocket. The boy's blue eyes were distant. He was not in the same spirits as the others, and for that Strider was thankful. Not because he found the Hobbit's antics annoying, but the gravity of the situation was far too great to be so light-hearted.
With a light creaking of the chair, Strider stood and walked calmly to he opposite end of the room; the three Hobbits barely sparing him a glance. He sat next to Frodo, the Hobbit jumped out of his daze and gave him a weak smile.
"That is quite a large burden you hold, little one." Strider took a drag from his pipe and leaned back against the headboard, staring up at the dirty cieling.
He could feel Frodo fidget beside him. "Gandalf has told me stories." Strider turned his head, surprised at the look of fear and awe on the small Hobbit's face. "Horrible stories that this ring has caused." Frodo tipped his head, dark curls falling into his face. When he looked up again, he would not meet Strider's eye. "Are all men so easily overcome by greed?"
Taken aback, Strider took the pipe from his lips and thought hard on Frodo's innocent question. When he looked the Hobbit in the eye a moment later he spoke the truth in his heart. "Not all men, Frodo Baggins."
--And I hear them saying, "You'll never change things. And no matter what you do it's still the same thing." But it's not the world that I am changing. I do this so, this world will know that it will not change me.--
The circle of all beings of Middle Earth sat in tense silence. Introductions had been made and Lord Elrond had frankly discussed why they had gathered. Aragorn sat straight in his chair, eyes scanning the people whose voices were slowly escalating into full blown arguments.
From across the room, Aragorn caught the eye of Legolas Greenleaf. The fair elf nodded at him, they had met several times as Aragorn grew in Rivendell. Aragorn had a deep respect for the son of Thranuil, for they both had similar goals in their life. Both had the weight of their father's deeds on their shoulders, and both wanted something more with their life than what was expected of them.
When Frodo Baggins stood to retrieve the ring, Aragorn's respect for the Hobbit grew with leaps and bounds. He too stood, standing at Frodo's side, prepared for the challenges that he would face. Across from him Legolas stood as well. The look of intrigue, honor and duty etched onto his features--Aragorn knew without a mirror that he would see the same look on his own face.
Lord Elrond stood with them and the mismatched group was named the Fellowship; in his foster father's eyes Aragorn saw pride there as well as worry. From the corner of his eye, Aragorn saw Arwen standing by a pillar and his heart stopped.
As he quickly made his excuses he caught up with his beloved and frowned at the teary eyes that turned his way.
"Arwen--" He began.
The noble lady laid a finger across his lips and smiled sadly at him. "Act instead of watching, just come back to me."
He took her hand then and kissed her knuckles, thankful for her understanding and even more so for her love.
--As long as one heart still holds on then hope is never really gone.--
Aragorn stood in the central room of Helm's Deep. The King was bloodied and weary, and from the lines on his face and the slump of his shoulders, Aragorn could tell that the man was close to snapping his reserve.
Legolas stood facing the door, watching as soldiers –many years too old or years too young—ran through the entries in a near panic. The Urak-hai had blown the wall to gravel only moments before, and now with the retreat, any courage that had been built on the tightly wound strings of the men's continence were slowly fraying. If fear and failure had a sound, the echoes of pain and screams of terror would have been them. Legolas began to fidget, it was not his way to stand and wait for the hordes to greet him, he would rather throw himself into them and take them down with a snarl and dagger clutched in his fist. "Aragorn, they're coming in by the hundreds."
Aragorn's eyes narrowed and he turned back to the King. "Where do the caverns lead?"
"They come to the passage in the mountains that lead to the outer regions of Gondor." King Théoden ran a soiled hand down his face.
Aragorn's analytical mind began to crank swiftly and he bade the King to send the woman through the passage along with any men that wished to guide them. "But ride with me now, holding your head high and the horn bellowing. Let the men see their King ride out into battle for the last time."
Sunlight began to spill through an upper window, the golden light catching in Aragorn's thick locks and illuminating his face. A smile slowly split the King's face and he nodded his head. There was something with the man in front of him, this untainted piece of soul that defied any creature to tell him that he would not survive. And simply being in the Ranger's presence made him feel renewed and whole.
"My horse!"
--And I hear them saying, "You'll never change things
and no matter what you do it's still the same thing."
But it's not the world that I am changing.
I do this so, this world we know never changes me.--
King Elessar stood gazing down on the city of Gondor. The bustle of the people below and the blooming of the tree in the square still amazed him and he hoped that it always would.
Today the Hobbits were headed back to the Shire; Gimli and Legolas would set out on their adventures and many of the Eldar would sail to Valinor in very little time. He reflected on the losses he had witnessed and those he hadn't, those brave warriors that dared stand with him and those of them whose faces he would only see again after he was lain to rest in his tomb.
The door behind him swung in and the light steps of Frodo Baggins echoed in the room and stopped when the Hobbit paused beside him to peer out of the window.
"How are you Frodo?" Aragorn smiled down at him.
The Hobbit shrugged, new lines in his face making him appear older and weary. "Much better than the past few weeks."
Silence settled between them and before long Frodo began to switch from one foot to the other until Aragorn laughed and ruffled his curls. "What is on your mind, little one?"
Frodo's large blue eyes were filled with unmasked emotion as he gazed up at the once-ranger. "I wanted to thank you, Strider."
Aragorn smiled, turning his head to the side in confusion. "Thank me for what, Frodo?"
Before the Hobbit could answer, Samwise came through the entry, a pack slung across his shoulders and a cloak in his hand. "Pardon me, Strider. Gandalf says it's time to go, Mr. Frodo."
Frodo nodded, smiling warmly at his friend and taking the offered cloak. He clipped it around his shoulders and began to follow Sam, pausing just inside the room and looked back at Aragorn.
Aragorn watched him with a soft smile and Frodo returned it readily before speaking softly. "Everything, Strider. For everything." And with his parting words, Frodo dissappeared.
Aragorn stood staring at the entry where the Hobbit once stood and turned back to his window, watching as the four Hobbits and Gandalf soon entered the square. Merry noticed him from the distance and waved emphatically until Pippin soon noticed and joined in. Gandalf shuffled them on their way and Aragorn raised his hand in tidings as they melted into the crowd.
Arwen found him there ten minutes later and stood beside him, resting her hand atop his. When she turned to him his face was haggard and a bitter-sweet smile was tugging at his lips. Worried, she turned his face to her with a cool palm. "What's the matter?"
Kissing her lightly on the cheek, Aragorn glanced again out the window and then looked at his beautiful wife with a tear in his eye and the same smile playing on his lips. "Nothing."
--What I do is so,
this world will know that it will not change me.--