Aragorn had lit us a fire despite my best efforts to make him rest. He insisted on helping even in his condition. I tried to remember his father and if Aragorn was like him. My father had known Arathorn better, even though they didn't always get along. We were outcasts of the Dúnedain, shadows. It was Arathorn who had partially accepted us back but it was his wife, Gilraen, who had convinced him to do it. My father had saved Gilraen when she was young and after that, my father and she became good friends. He said that she reminded him of my aunt who drowned when she and my father were children.
Arathorn after that accepted us somewhat.
All I could remember about him was how tall he was. His hair was long and dark, reaching his shoulders. He had keen, silvery-blue eyes that were sharp and intense. High cheekbones with a jagged scar on his forehead.
He always scared me as a child and Freyr would often hide behind me when he looked at us.
Despite this, he would always smile fondly down at us. Although, it was a pitiful, sorrow-filled gesture.
I remember speaking to him but I couldn't remember what it was about. Although, whatever I said, made him laugh.
"Do you have any family Shyra?" Aragorn asked, drawing me out of my memories. The owl-shaped pendant that was in my hand, I slipped into my pocket.
"What?"
"Do you have a family?" he repeated, I started and fell silent for a moment.
Bowing my head and picking up a stick to poke the ground at my feet, I finally spoke.
"Yes…"
"Where are they?" Aragorn asked softly, warmly, almost like Gilraen.
"My mother and father are dead...but my brother is alive…"
"I see...what's his name?"
"Freyr." A thought hit me. The last time I had seen Freyr was…
"How old are you?" I asked suddenly, once again throwing Aragorn off guard.
"I am forty-nine...why?"
My eyes widened from under my blindfold. Aragorn was only two when Gilraen fled to Rivendell, which meant that I hadn't seen my brother in almost fifty years.
I felt my heart sink in my chest.
He probably didn't even know I was alive.
I had known he was still alive for years but...the reason I hadn't reunited with him was...was…
"Shyra? Are you well?"
I started before nodding my head.
"Aye. I'm fine."
"I apologize if I offended you-"
"No...no, you did not offend me. Where is your family?" I asked him, the younger man breathed out a quiet chuckle.
"My father died when I was young but my mother is still alive."
Gilraen still lives...father would have been happy to hear that…
"...what's her name?"
Aragorn hesitated and I felt a suspicious air rise from him. He was most likely used to not speaking of his heritage. I waited anyway, wondering what lie he would tell me.
"Gilraen…" he replied.
"Gilraen...if that's her name, then who's Arwen?"
I could practically feel the heir turn bright red and only could imagine his face. Why do I pride myself at how I make people uncomfortable? From the vibrations I was picking up, I knew that he was flustered.
"How did you? How…"
"You talk in your sleep. While your fever was acting up you kept saying 'Arwen, Arwen,' over and over again...it was starting to get annoying."
"Oh…"
"So, who is Arwen?"
Aragorn fell silent for a moment and I could see his outline in my mind's eye reach up and rub the back of his neck.
"Well...she is an Elf...that I know…"
I raised my eyebrows.
"You are in love with an Elf?" I asked, bewildered at what I was hearing.
Was that even possible?
An Elf loving a human?
I had certainly not heard of anything like that before.
"Well...yes...but I do not know if she harbors the same feelings for me…" he said nervously, I found myself chuckling at his turmoil. Leaning forward, I clasped my hands together while resting my elbows on my knees.
"There's only one way of knowing."
"What?"
"If you don't know how she feels about you, grow into a man and ask her."
I could feel Aragorn start again, how I wish I could see the look on his face.
"Oh...I can not possibly do that…"
"Why not? You're a man aren't you?"
"Yes! Just its because...because...she...would if she says no?"
I shrugged my shoulders, I was never in a relationship. Too busy focused on my work.
"Then I suppose, you will never know."
Aragorn fell silent for a long moment. He leaned forward, watching the fire he had built.
While he was thinking, I was trying to remember where I had heard the name Arwen from.
I was almost certain that the twins had said her name before…
"I was always told...that it would be impossible for me and her to be together…" he said in a low, solemn voice, "me, a ranger of the north, in love with an Elf princess…"
Elf princess...Elrohir and Elladan were princes...and they had mentioned…
Oh Eru! Arwen is their sister! Which means she's Elrond's daughter...well no wonder he thinks they would never work out!
"Anything can happen," I answered skeptically, causing him to lift his head to look at me, "I mean, a lot more stranger things had gone on in this world of ours. Who is to say that an Elf can't love a man?"
"...your right...I think I will ask her...thank you Shyra, for giving me confidence."
"Ah, don't mention it. I've had some practice in convincing men to grow a pair of balls. I used to do it all the time for my brother."
"I...I see…you sound like you miss him."
"Aye...after our mother died I filled in that hole for him. Wherever I would go, he would follow. My father called him my shadow…"
"That sounds nice, now I see where you get your protectiveness from."
I smiled and was about to say something when I heard the sound of grass being stomped upon. Out in the dark, I could pick out the vibrations of someone walking.
I stood up abruptly.
"Someone's out there…"
