Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just those I think up of in that imagination of lack thereof of mine.

Note: this story is based on the snippets of 'story' about Aragorn serving Thengel and Ecthelion under guise of Thorongil. My apologies for any discrepancies, for the title that is sorely lacking in creativity. Another thing, I'm ignoring the fact that Theoden had 3 other sisters besides Theodwyn. And I'll be using 'Aragorn' went I'm sort of delving into his thoughts, though others would call him 'Thorongil'.

Thanks to all who reviewed!

Sorry about taking so long, was too caught up in watching Extended Edition. Oh, and this chapter is kinda 'anti-climax' to some extent.

–The Eagle of the Star –
Chapter 8

(Rivendell)

The fresh breeze entered the study, blowing out the curtains and ruffling the papers that lay on Elrond's desk. Even as he tried to concentrate on the various reports of orc movement in the Mountains and Eriador, his mind were elsewhere entirely.

It was March the First, and it was Estel's birthday. Yet, there was no cheer in the House of Elrond whatsoever, as like the past few years. The mortal everyone had come to adore was still in the Wild, and they knew that he would be abroad for yet a while more. Though the seven years since he left meant nothing to the Elves, they knew it was only a matter of time before Sauron rose to power again, and the Heir of Isildur had to fight.

Estel had left the Rangers for two years already, and yet, there still seemed no sign of his whereabouts. Halbarad had informed him of his departure the morning they discovered that he left, sending a messenger direct to Rivendell. They had searched for the next few weeks for any trace of him, and even the twins lent a helping hand. Yet, it seemed that they taught Estel too well, for the scouts might have been searching for an elf instead. The only trace was a short handwritten note from him, a short and puzzling sentence that simply said that he was 'needed elsewhere'.

Much as Elrond hoped for a note or letter from his foster-son soon, it never came. And as the days passed his hope grew less, and his fear more. If Estel perished, who would lead the army of Men towards their final battle? Who would take up the crown of Gondor? The line of Isildur would fade into mist and legend, and soon the shadow would conquer. Perhaps he had made an unwise decision the day he had told Estel of his doom, one that would turn into folly.

Estel is alive, Elrond of Rivendell.

As much as he prepared himself for Galadriel's 'interruptions' when he had least expected it; they still managed to startle him somewhat to hear another voice resounding in his mind.

How do you know that?

You forget. I have eyes and ears far and wide; besides, he passed the borders close to Lorien not two years ago.

Whence did he go? The question was asked soundlessly a moment before a vision of a band of Horsemen appeared in front of him, proudly carrying a banner of a white horse running swiftly upon the grass.

"Calenardhon," he murmured softly. "But what is he doing there?"

The Rangers do not need him for a time for they still have strength in numbers. Halbarad will be able to lead them almost as well as Estel. Have you forgotten that he was their Captain before Estel came of age? But Kingdom of Men will need his advice, and aid in the years to come. As of now, he is serving Thengel of Rohan, and ride with the Rohirrim.

An image of the White City came unbidden to Elrond's mind, and he saw Estel in deep counsel with the steward, and of Corsairs prowling the shores before the vision faded.

"He will go to Gondor soon, and still under guise."

Yes. And after that, his fate will be decided.

------------------------------

(Rohan)

Aragorn smoked his pipe as he stared out of the window of his chamber in silent contemplation. As of today, he would be a year older.

And, a year closer to his fate.

The thought did nothing to soothe his worries that had slowly built up over the past seven months.

After Hildefir had grudgingly admitted that he was fit to go, life had somewhat returned to normal. His wounds had healed over the next few weeks after he was 'discharged', and all that was left as a reminder was a faint scar.

Brianne had returned to her rebuilt village after three months, determined to live out her life as best as could be. The people had almost fully recovered from the ordeal, especially the women and children. The men had become fewer as of the raid, and most were lucky to survive their critical wounds. The only kin she had left was her mother and one of her brothers, whose arm was cruelly severed. The Riders had bade her goodbye, even as she thanked them for their help. She was welcome to Edoras anytime, they had told her, and she nodded, eyes filled with tears of gratitude. After wishing her well, they rode away. The last time they saw her, she was standing against the sun, one arm raised in farewell, as the other villagers crowded around her to see them off.

The Riders resumed their weekly 'practice', and went about the country from time to time, making sure that the people were safe. However, there seemed to be hardly any orc-spies in the country. The patrols they usually made, and the reports from the watchguards around the vicinity proved that the orcs had truly disappeared… for a while.

But there was still a nagging thought embedded in his mind. Orcs rarely had a mind of their own, and the band that they had killed those months ago showed some signs of independent thinking. Could it be that they were of another breed, and perhaps had another master?

Then again, perhaps, it is nothing, he thought, and flicked the worry away.

A small smile appeared on his face as he fondly remembered his birthdays in Rivendell. There would always to merry-making, and he would be showered with presents, and of course, subjected to pranks from the twins. Though as the years went by, he learnt to figure out those that were actually real, and those that led to a trap of some sort. As a boy, he had once wished on that day that he would be able to live in Rivendell till his death, and forget about the world outside. But it seemed that all his wishes came true except this.

It was, perhaps, the seventh year that he had spent it alone. The Rangers were usually on duty, and all had little time to even celebrate their getting a year older, and truth to be told, most had loathed the thought of being a year older.

------------------------------

As the days towards his 'special day' (as he continually insisted) came closer, Théoden started reminding everyone and anyone in Meduseld of it, and ceaselessly asked the Riders of their present to him, to which Eothir put on a straight face and a regretful voice before saying, "Nothing yet." The move never failed to cause the young Prince to walk away sadly. However, they had indeed gotten something for him.

---Flashback---

The Rohirrim had gathered in Eothir's house to discuss the subject, since there were no orcs to slay and their patrols were done for the day.

"All right men, what should we get for our Prince?"

Various suggestions were soon pelted unto Eothir's ears.

"A small sword!" "A shield!" "A small Rider helm." "A horse!"

Each suggestion was met with a considering frown from Eothir, before he finally spoke again, "I guess we can give him a horse…"

"A newborn one perhaps. They can grow old together." The Rider grinned as guffaws rose from the rest.

"Aye, Captain, didn't one of your mares give birth last month?"

Eothir nodded. "She did, but the foal is still too young to bear him, and I doubt King Thengel will allow his son to learn how exactly to ride a horse."

"Will he if the lesson was part of the gift?" Aragorn spoke, and the Riders turned to look at him, well, rather glare at him. Showing his palm, the Ranger quickly took back his suggestion, "All right ! All right! Maybe not."

He watched in some measure of surprise as the glares turned into grins, as several Riders slapped him on his back.

"Great idea!" "We've finally got you!"

Eothir looked at him, and shrugged his shoulders at the latter's accusing stare, "It is settled then."

---End Flashback---

It was decided that they would give the Prince lessons on another pony, till the foal was broken in, and strong enough to carry a rider's weight.

Slowly, the days passed till it was but a dozen days or so till that day. Everyone hoped for the best on all the days leading to the 'finale', but it seemed that the Valar were against that, or rather, the orcs…

Tbc…

Note:
-I know that Elrond has the power of foresight blahblahblah, but let's pretend for a moment that he has lost it shall we?
-Calenardhon: name for Rohan when it was under Gondor.
-There's no use of Elvish here cause I'm really, really bad at the language. Forgive me.
-It's the year 2958 now, in case you were wondering.

Please do review!
Merry X'mas (and happy holidays...)