A/N: This is to all the people who are directly reading the 3rd Chapter – Read the first two chapters again and carefully, I have made A LOT of changes and corrections, Thank you and enjoy this chapter.
Now is Not the Time
The Hall of Fire
It had been four days since the halflings had stepped into Rivendell and only a day, since the Ring – Bearer, Master Frodo Baggins and woken up. As Aragorn stood looking out of the window, his mind traced the journey from the Inn of the Prancing Pony to Rivendell along with the four hobbits. He kept wondering at their close bond and their amusingly huge appetites. His face darkened as he remembered the attack at Weathertop by five of the nine Nazgul.
'Oh, how I wish it had never happened', he thought.
Aragorn was distracted from his thoughts when he heard footsteps behind him. Before long he was joined by Baranhen who also seemed to crave the fresh air.
The Blue Hunter was attired in the same dark blue cloak he always wore as far as Aragorn could remember. However, now he wasn't cocooned behind the folds of his cloak. Aragorn could now see that Baranhen was attired in clothes of grey, making his grisly eyes look queer as ever. Baranhen's face was still masked, for he never removed it and Aragorn couldn't remember a single instance when he had seen him unmasked and without his hood on.
"I see you have decided to abandon the feast", Aragorn commented his gaze still towards the window.
"Indeed", was Baranhen's short reply. He was eyeing Aragorn's outfit – who was clad in elvenmail, which was covered by a dark green cloak, but a star shone brightly on his breast.
"May I ask why?", Aragorn asked, his tone persistent.
"You already know the answer Estel", Baranhen replied, turning his head away from him, sounding irritated. "Don't pretend to be ignorant of the things you already know".
Aragron grinned and said, "I enjoy your ranting Baranhen, you know that don't you?". Aragorn then looked at him, his expression emanating concern. "And it seems to me that you are overwhelmed with all that is happening here – Tell me your thoughts , my dear friend".
Taking a deep breathe, Baranhen began, "I do not wish to be surrounded by over zealous elves whose merry tongues run lose with too much wine".
"And why is that?". Aragorn asked.
Glaring at him, Baranhen continued, "I always become their object of curiosity and pity, I have dwelt enough in sorrow Estel, I don't think I can bear any more of the sympathetic glances they send me. It's going to be worse tonight – with all the dwarves, hobbits and men in there".
"I think I understand you now Baranhen". Aragorn said and fell silent and stared out the window.
Many moments passed while both Aragorn and Baranhen looked at the scenery before them, the cool air playing across their faces.
"You are too silent tonight", Baranhen said in his grating voice. Aragorn simply nodded in affirmation and continued looking out of the window.
"What are you thinking about Estel?" Baranhen asked his rough voice surprisingly sounding concerned.
Aragorn closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh. He turned to face Baranhen and said, "I keep thinking of how Frodo could have escaped from Weathertop, unhurt. I keep thinking it is my fault that he now bears a wound from a Morgul blade. I could have prevented it, but I was too late".
"You know, escaping from the Ringwraiths with four hobbits in tow is a derilious task indeed. They are so annoying. Especially the younger two. I cannot imagine how you made it till here without turning into a mad man, they are a handful". Baranhen said, sounding annoyed.
"Aye, they are a handful", Aragorn agreed. He then continued, "But there is a certain purity in them that draws other people towards them, their love for nature, their love for peace and happiness is something you cannot find everywhere my dear friend". Aragorn looked sideways at Baranhen whose yellow eyes narrowed within his dark hood.
Returning Aragorn's gaze Baranhen said,"Their love for peace you say, they make a racket wherever they go, the hungrier they are the noisier it gets".
At that, Aragorn chuckled, "If you say so Baranhen, their enormous appetite surprises me too". Aragorn turned silent and resumed his gaze towards the window.
At length he spoke again.
"Thank you". His voice grateful.
"For what?". Baranhen asked.
"For always stopping myself from feeling too guilty about something I could have never stopped from happening,... for being there for me every time I needed you". Aragorn replied.
Baranhen turned towards Aragorn, who copied him. "Destiny – Aragorn, is a strange thing. You where meant to find the hobbits and Master Baggins was meant to be stabbed. That is something he will never forget and the experience has hardened him and his companions. They now know the world of cruelty beyond the borders of their peaceful Shire".
Yellow eyes meeting the cool grey gaze, Baranhen continued, "To our eyes they maybe only small creatures, but whenever I see them I remember a saying – A statue maybe small, but its value may go beyond".
"You seem certain that the hobbits will face graver danger". Aragorn said his eyes widening at the realisation Baranhen hinted at, "They are not aggressive folk. Pray that they will find a safe road back home!". Aragorn said his voice, alarmed and laced with anger.
Baranhen remained calm, Aragorn's anger seemingly unnoticed by him.
"Many things were not supposed to happen Estel." Baranhen said his voice now grave. "The ring was supposed to be lost – yet it remains here, under our very noses. And you – Heir of Isildur, stand here before me in the Household of Elrond, rather then being seated upon the throne of Gondor".
Meeting Aragorn's fierce gaze, Baranhen continued to speak in a sad voice. "Many things that were not supposed to happen have occurred Estel – I of all people, should know that well enough".
Aragorn's eyes had softened and now had a sad smile in his face.
The yellow-eyed figure lowered his gaze and said softly. "I am not Luinfaron of Rivendell, nor I am Baranhen, I do not belong here Estel – my home, my real home - is out there,... somewhere...".
Aragorn laid an arm in his comrade's shoulder, who lifted his head, "Nor is this my home Baranhen, nevertheless it has housed us, cared for us and fulfilled our every need, what more do you seek?".
Baranhen gave a wry smile and said, "I seek my true identity – Aragorn, son of Arathorn, for you have discovered yours when you were mere decades old and I, even after all these years – still strive to recover mine".
Aragorn stood stunned at Baranhen's reply, "But -".
"Forgive me, My Lord Aragorn, but Master Bilbo is asking for you – he says he needs your help in the making of a song". Unknown to both of them, a servant had appeared behind them, who was now eyeing Baranhen with distaste.
Distracted, Aragorn replied, "Very well, I shall meet him at The Hall of Fire". He nodded at the servant, who scurried away quickly.
Looking at Baranhen, Aragorn said, "This conversation isn't over", his tone stern.
"There is nothing left to be said about this conversation", was Baranhen's stony reply.
His face grim, Aragorn draped his cloak over his elvenmail properly and strode out of the room.
A/N: YES yes I know this chapter sucks and has lot of potholes,..don't blame me! I am facing Writer's Block!...but if you have suggestions then please do tell me,...in this coming week this chapter will be edited A LOT so don't forget to drop by and read the edited chapter.
Read and Review please!.