Wow I'm really getting going on this story. I know that this little bit is really short, but it just works so well. So this is kind of a weekday treat, just remember the three R's: read, relax, and review. Disclaimer, because I only wish that I owned LOTR, is in chapter one, I think.

Death by any other name

It was the warmth of the early morning sunlight that forced Strider awake. His last memory was struggling to breathe while running through the forest. He had made it too when he had fallen just on the outskirts of the forest. Forcing his eyes open, he looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky and he was grateful for it for he missed the sky. Yet something felt wrong, but he couldn't quite place it. He thought over things for a minute and then he realized he was breathing; he was taking slightly deeper breaths than before. He quickly took inventory of his body; everything else was just as before. His stomach still bore the claw marks and his shoulder the bite, but he was breathing; he was alive.

Strider rolled to his side and got up like he had before. He winced as his stomach flashed with pain, but he bit back the pain. Looking around at his surroundings he noticed that he was on the outskirts of the forest, but it was the next day, he'd failed and now he would die. Or perhaps, he thought to himself, he was already dead and this was where he was to spend the rest of eternity, faced with the place of his failure. He took a few nervous steps, wanting to ere on the side of caution until he found out where he was. He took a few steps back into the forest, testing out his surroundings. Everything seemed perfectly normal, but he felt a certain strangeness about him, almost an unearthly feeling; like he was here to do something.

'What do you want with me?' he called out, hoping to receive an answer like he had in the forest; there was no response. 'Why am I here? Am I dead? Answer me! Please!' he begged. He waited several minutes, but there was no answer. Allowing his emotions to get the best of him, he fell to his knees, lowered his head and let pity take charge as the tears began to stream down his cheeks. He'd lost everything, all of his choices; his life was controlled by some outside force.

A slight breeze rustled the leaves, but Strider paid no attention to it, or to the coldness that fell over him, though he shivered from it. Something warm touched his chin, slowly caressing the stubble that had grown as it lifted up his head. He was momentarily blinded by the bright light that shone down on him, but when he opened his eyes once more, standing before him was a beautiful woman. Her fair complexion was laced with worry and concern for him, but didn't tarnish her beauty. Her long white dress flowed gently with a mysterious wind as it draped over her slender figure. Strider stared at her with wonder and awe, feeling her silken hair brush against his cheek.

'Aragorn, son of Arathorn,' her voice was hollow, but full of power nonetheless. Strider was startled by the name, but didn't answer. 'Elessar, the Elfstone of the house of Elendil, answer me,' she commanded.

'I am not the one you seek,' he replied, solemnly.

'You are the child of Arathorn the second, raised in the House of Elrond by the Lord Elrond himself, are you not?'

'Aye,' was the simple reply.

'Then it is you that I call for,' she politely chided the man before her.

'But I am not the one you seek,' he repeated.

'Why do you hold on to such nonsense? Why do you continue to deny yourself the rights of your birth?'

'Aye, I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn by birth, but not by choice.' The lady gazed down at him for a second.

'Of what do you speak?'

'I chose the other path. I forsook my rights and chose the life of a commoner.'

'Oh,' she seemed rather startled, 'now I understand, but I see that you do not.' There was a long pause as they both waited on the other to speak, in the end it was the lady who spoke first.

'No one who has been set on this Middle-Earth is ever just a commoner. Each has a purpose, a reason for living. You could never choose the life of a commoner, no more than you could fully forsake the rights of your noble birth.'

'But I chose exile,' Strider countered.

'You were born in exile; you have lived your entire life in exile and whether you like it or not the path you have chosen will lead you from exile.'

'I don't want it! I don't want that burden!' Strider cried to the lady, the tears forming different paths down his red cheeks. She remained still though, unfazed by his words and his tears. 'What if I choose another path?'

The lady smiled and laughed softly, 'Young Aragorn, you don't understand, every path you take leads to the Throne of Gondor. Whether you like it or not you will die with the crown of Gondor resting upon your head,' she paused for a second. 'It is only a matter of time. Evil has already begun to stir, black smoke begins to vent from the land of Mordor. In time you will find the strength within you and you will gather all that is good in the world, uniting the peoples of Middle-Earth as one in the final battle of this Age. It is all up to you, but you will not be alone in your journey. You will find strength in others, courage in unknown places for you are Aragorn Elessar and it is your destiny.'

'Why?' was Strider's simple reply.

'That I cannot tell you; you will have to find that for yourself. But I caution you not to let it consume your life, for you are bound to this world until you have completed your task; the one task that has been set before you.'

Strider opened his mouth to speak, but the lady covered it with her hand.

'Go now Aragorn Elessar and fulfill your destiny.' And with that Strider felt himself begin to float. He watched as the lady started to fade.

'Wait, who are you?' he called out, but it was too late, she was gone and he was slowly floating to the ground.

Reviewer's responses

Isadora2- Thanks for sticking with the story. I've found that now that I'm in college I have more time, strange how that works. But I'd never abandon a story, just wait a little bit to work on it.

sielge- Um, don't know about camp, see he's in a bit of a situation right now, don't exactly know how it's going to work out.

Grumpy- Alive to see another day, hmm, give me some time to think about that one. I don't know how it's going to turn out yet. But thanks for sticking with the story.

Poppa Jon- Are you sure about the three times, I didn't think I'd hurt him that many times. But he's got to endure a lot to become the Aragorn we all know and love.