This chapter might be a bit boring, I suppose. I will try to get some action in soon though.

BTW: Chapter Four "Save the Children" was inspired by a song of a similar title. I meant to include its lyrics but forgot. Anyway, here're some of them, and if anyone knows whom the song is by, I would much appreciate the info.

'Cry for all the innocent ones, born into a world that's lost its heart

For those who've never learned to dream,

Because their hope was crushed before it could start,

And we shake our fists in the air,

And say, "If God is Love, how can this be fair"

But we are his hands, we are his voice

We are the ones who must make the choice

And if it isn't now, tell me when

If it isn't you then tell me who will save the children

Save the Children

Now we decide that nothing can change,

And throw up our hands in numb despair

We lose a piece of our souls

By teaching ourselves just how not to care

But Christ would have gone to the cross

Just to save one child from being lost

We count our blessings one by one

Yet we have forgotten how to give

It seems that we don't want to face

All the hungry and homeless who struggle to live

But heaven is watching tonight

Tugging at our hearts, to do what's right

And we are his hands, we are his voice

We are the ones who must make the choice

And if it isn't now there's no time to waste

And if it isn't you no one can take your place

Can't you see that only we can save the children?

Save the children.'

Now on to the next chapter. Please review, I really appreciate knowing someone is reading.

Breakfast was served in a smaller room than supper had been, but it was also more comfortable. Ceara was already there in a high chair with one of the servants feeding her. The woman had several children herself, though they were all full grown now, and she had been assigned to the hobbits when they were still in the city. Aragorn missed his short friends and hoped their homecoming had gone well

He set Elladan down near him once again, though he hoped the others didn't misconstrue his action for favoritism. Rather, as the night before, he realized the child would probably need help with the unfamiliar utensils. Dan didn't need as much help as he expected, though, since it wasn't so long ago for him that he had eaten at a table regularly. Hanny needed assistance more, but Arwen was helping her.

As they all ate, Aragorn laid out his plan for the day. "The first thing on the agenda after breakfast is to take all of you over to the cobbler to be fitted for shoes. From there I will take you to be fitted for more clothes. Those two activities will probably take until lunch. After that meal, I will be busy, but will leave you in the capable hands of Eowyn and Faramir, while I do general audiences for a few hours. Then I am going to see what I can find out about Dan's family. I know he has relatives still living up north who are closer than myself so if necessary I will send a message asking them to come down and get acquainted with him. I will not just send him away." He smiled reassuringly and caught a tiny sigh of relief from Canden, though he didn't acknowledge it.

With breakfast finished, he once again picked up his cousin, but this time also took Hanny because Arwen had some things to see to, such as informing Faramir and Eowyn of their newly appointed task. Both youngsters had started to put on much needed weight, but they were still no difficulty for the seasoned warrior.

The walk to the cobbler who served the needs of the fortress wasn't very long, but the three children who were walking were soon wincing at the cold stone floor. Aragorn frowned in worry, but said, "We are nearly there." In less than five painful minutes, they had arrived.

He had all five of them sit on a bench and then knelt before them, chafing their feet so warmth would return. The cobbler entered the room from behind him, having been in the much warmer workshop. He had met the king before, when Elessar commissioned a new pair of boots to replace the dirty, torn, and all around scruffy pair he had worn from Rivendell. Normally he didn't go through his footwear so fast, but the harshness of the terrain he had crossed had conspired to wear them down very badly. Now the man watched in horror as his king humbled himself to children, and street children from the looks of them.

Long experience with taking note of his surroundings at all time warned Aragorn of his subject's arrival, though the man had come in very quietly by most standards. Without turning around, he said, "Baran, come help me."

The cobbler gulped but obeyed, kneeling on the floor beside his king and rubbing a child's feet. The soles of the feet of the young girl he was warming were thick and tough but covered with old scars and new cuts. Baran began to feel sorry for them, and once all five children had been taken care of, Aragorn turned to his helper. "I would have you make shoes for them." He stated.

Baran nodded and replied, "Yes, my lord. And my wife knits very warm socks. An it please you, she could be prevailed upon to make some for them."

"Do so," Aragorn replied.

The cobbler got several thick sheets of paper and set them on the floor. Canden, having been fitted for shoes before, got up without prompting and stood on one of the sheets. Using a stick of charcoal, Baran drew an outline of each foot. The boy grinned at the ticklish feeling and then stepped off when both were done. The man set the paper carefully aside and drew each of the other children's feet. Hanny and Dan both giggled on their turns and had to be told several times not to move by the grinning king. Before the group could leave when he was done, Baran brought them sandals of an approximate fit, which would at least get their feet off the cold floor. Aragorn and the children thanked him profusely, and he made up his mind to finish the new shoes as soon as possible.

Now they headed to the seamstress, not far away. She was someone he had never met before so he wasn't sure he would get and immediate positive response. At first his fears were justified. He walked in and saw a woman of undeterminable age sitting by a fireplace sewing.

"Excuse me, madam," he said politely, 'I would like you to outfit these children."

She didn't look up from her work but finished her row of stitches. "Sir," she answered at last, "have you no manners? These things take time and money."

Aragorn suppressed a growl at her cool tone of voice. "I understand that perfectly. I have done my share of sewing my own clothes for over sixty years." He watched her closely to see how she would react.

She was silent and almost unmoving but he caught her glance at his hands, which were as strong and unmarked by age as those of a thirty-year-old, though they were slightly scarred from various fights with nature and unnatural creatures. His lips twitched suspiciously as she mentally added up his age and youth and came up with the rumors going around the city about the eighty something king who seemed much younger than his years in appearance and action. (He strongly suspected his brothers had a hand in that.) Her head jerked up and she quickly laid aside her sewing so she could rise and curtsey, her face flushed with embarrassment.

Aragorn made a courtly bow in return and said, "Rise," in a regal voice. The children stared at him in astonishment, since they had not yet seen him in official manners, and were rather awed at the change.

The seamstress straightened and said, "I apologize, my lord." He smiled at her, and she continued, "You wish me to make clothes for these children?"

Once more they were all measured and she promised that they would each have one set within a week and more within them month. Then she mentally tallied up whom she could ask for assistance with the project.

The king and children withdrew from her shop so they could fill their stomachs with lunch. This was once again in the private dining room, but this time, they were joined by Faramir and Eowyn, who were rather curious about the children they had been asked to watch. Faramir was particularly bemused, because he was supposed to go to the council meeting that followed the general audiences but would have to miss it to be with children according to Arwen.

Aragorn was already properly attired this time, so he made his way at an easy (for him) pace to the great hall. There was already a long line of people waiting to meet with him with request that only he could deal with, it seemed, though most of the "problems" were trivial matters and they just wanted a look at their king. Though he had been ruling for months, those who lived further away from the city could not afford to leave their homes during the summer months because crops and animals needing care, so more and more had been coming ever since the harvest had been gathered.

He was much more eager for the council meeting, however. He could not take his mind off the plight of the poor still out in the city and hoped there were some good ideas by his councilors. At one point, he became so distracted that he caught himself just before he ruled that the young man before him could marry the disputed cow of the previous petitioners. Blinking in dismay, he straightened out the information that his mind was trying to process and instead said that the man could marry his childhood sweetheart.

Then he called for a five-minute break and went back to his tiring room, where he beat his head against the wall for a minute cursing himself for his stupidity. Rubbing his forehead with a sigh, he poured some water into a basin and then scooped some up to splash his face. Feeling better, he then poured a goblet of wine and sipped on it. He had very high tolerance for alcohol and felt better rather than worse from drinking. He dried his face on a small towel and then walked back out to finish up the audiences.

This time he paid very close attention to what he was doing and time seemed to pass very quickly. In fact, he was rather surprised when he was done, because he had not noticed that the room had become so empty. As he entered the council chamber, he realized that he never had gotten around to reading the others' ideas, so he surreptitiously scanned the papers as he settled himself at the head of the table and waited for the rest to do likewise.

When all were ready, he cleared his throat and began, "I have read your suggestions carefully…" There was a cough from his servant who had watched the king's last minute actions. "And I believe that you have some good ideas. The table is open for discussion." He fell silent and waited for someone else to take the floor.

"I believe that small public buildings should be set up for the healers to use near those areas of poverty so that no one need be nervous to approach the citadel." Said the representative from Dol Amroth. "We have had a similar arrangement in place for years, and our areas have vastly improved since the time of my lord's investiture as prince."

As if the suggestion broke down an invisible barrier, everyone else began to talk at once, giving their own ideas, some of which were too fantastic to have any possibilities but one was very good when combined with the first.

"I believe," spoke up the man from Lossarnach, "that guards should be disguised and sent into those sections of the city so they can rescue the orphans and make suggestions to those in need so they can find work and healing."

The king, who had had the same idea (obviously since he had personally implemented it already), said out loud, "A very good idea. Now how shall we set it to work?"

One of the Rangers, who had remained to represent the North, said, "Str-your majesty, more of us could come down to Minas Tirith, those who are tired of raising their families in the wilderness. I'm sure they would be happy to help with the patrols and with giving suggestions for disguise since we have so much experience."

Aragorn chuckled, "A very good point. Perhaps they would like to help open some orphanages too since they are used to taking in fosterlings."

Before the Ranger could reply, one of the others asked curiously, "What did he call you? Str—what?"

Aragorn continued to laugh. "In case you don't recall, I once lived in the North and kept my identity secret from the commonfolk we were protecting. As such, I was given the nickname Strider. The hobbits and my kinsfolk from the north are welcome to continue using that name if they prefer, as are the other members of the fellowship. Telcontar is the elvish form of that name." He explained patiently.

Everyone nodded, but the Ranger said, "Have you told them the rest of the names you have picked up over the years, Strider?"

Aragorn made a mock frown and said, "No, and I'm not planning to." He brought the discussion back to its original course and settled the beginnings of his plan as well as some other issues that needed work. Finally, with a lighter heart, he left the room, wondering what his charges had been up to while he was busy.