Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Lord of the Rings.
Note: Thanks for the reviews. It would be nice if more people would warm up to this story but I guess I can't have everything. Anyway let's begin.
Aragorn took light steps through the woods, darting from shade to shade for a while before he decided upon a more normal graceful walk. Night was falling quickly onto these lands, deserted of all inhabitants, save some animals and the occasional pack of wolves or orcs.
Both were things Aragorn didn't want to meet. He had left the encampment a little over a week ago, travelling for days without a destination. He needed time alone to think.
He had been with his people for six months now, training, helping, aiding and more training again. Gradually Glorfindel, Elrohir and Elladan had left him to join the patrol further north, leaving Aragorn alone. The man had found life a little easier when his brothers weren't around to intimidate the other people but he was still a stranger even with his own people.
He missed the quietness of Rivendell, the stillness in which time didn't seem to exist except for when elves moved or passed him, greeting him. In the camp there were always children laughing, woman speaking to another or men shouting orders.
Aragorn breathed in deeply. He had been glad when Halbarad had assigned him this mission. To explore the lands for the next 6 months and to live on his own. To pick out a course for the next few years. Aragorn already knew the history of the Dunedain, the rough scale of the land and the fighting techniques they used. He just didn't know their customs, elven raised as he was.
Aragorn had been a fast learner and it had taken him two weeks to master the fighting techniques the Dunedain practised and to beat their best man. Halbarad had been proud and it hadn't been long before the older man had begun to tutor him in the tasks of a chieftain.
Aragorn had been too busy to truly miss home, though he missed the conversations he used to have with Elrond, the sparring sessions with Glorfindel and the chess games with Erestor. But above all, he missed the presence of his brothers.
They had always haunted his steps, or he theirs. They had been in the shadows, watching him play, fight, defend himself and much more. They had always been there for him and now to be alone, truly alone; it was something Aragorn was unaccustomed to.
He hummed softly to himself, listening carefully as he scouted the area. Night was falling quickly and he would need a place to sleep or to set up camp. It would be unwise to travel at night without any knowledge of these lands, as he might get lost.
The clearing he found near a small creek was large enough to accommodate one person. He shed his pack, scouting the area around to make sure that it was safe from unfriendly eyes before he started to gather wood to build a fire.
He gathered water, drinking deeply from the cold liquid. The last summer days were fading and autumn was approaching. The leaves were already turning and while the days were hot, the nights were beginning to cool.
Aragorn pushed his hair back with wet hands, enjoying the liquid on his face. He needed to shave and badly too. It was a habit he had been unable to break from Elrond. The elven lord had always wanted him seated at the table clean shaven.
It had been something Aragorn wanted to do. He was proud of the beard he could now grow but it might need some trimming. He looked like a wild man. If his Ada saw him like this, what must Elrond think?
His mind darkened at this. It had been a long time since he had last thought as Elrond as father. He had learned more about his birth father and it was hard not to connect the two in his mind with the same person. Elrond had been gentle with him, nursing scraped knees and lecturing him when he got into trouble.
Aragorn rubbed at his head. He still needed time to sort out his feelings about the elven lord. He understood why Elrond had not told him who he truly was but it would have made the transition a little bit easier. He could have learned about customs of the Dunedain before and not make such a fool of himself.
He hadn't actually made a fool of himself but it had been how he felt. He had made friends quickly with the young men who were training to go on patrol. He had listened to their tales. Most of the younger men had lost family members to orcs and Aragorn had realized just how sheltered his life had been.
True he hadn't know his mother until it had almost been too late and she had died even before he had the time to really get to know her but he had led a life of bliss and of comfort. He hadn't had to face the hardship the other Dunedain faced, like harsh winters, not enough food or sometimes daily attacks from the orcs.
Aragorn's head snapped up when he heard singing. The voice was soft and the tune haunting but it was a tune Aragorn knew well. The tale had always been sung in Rivendell to welcome guests to the elves.
The man retreated back to the camp immediately, picking up his sword as he kept his back to the fire, glancing around at the source of the voice. "You do know that it is not considered very good manners to greet a friend with a drawn sword instead of a hot meal."
Aragorn turned on lightning quick feet, pulling himself off balance as he stumbled down on his bum. His sword was still in hand and the hooded stranger laughed, a deep laugh before he said, "And you were named Hope by the elves. I fear that if you are ever to play a part that you are meant to play then we should be lucky, very lucky indeed if you survive with such a balance."
Aragorn growled low. The voice was familiar but he couldn't place it. The man, he was unmistakably male, stood tall, stooping a little in the shoulders and Aragorn suspected he was old.
"It is also considered bad manners to surprise your friend so they are forced to drawn said sword instead of the hot meal." The man climbed to his feet and the hooded man laughed again.
"Very well spoke, Aragorn, son of Arathorn."
Aragorn's mouth fell open and he unsheathed the sword, pointing it forward as he demanded. "Hoe do you know my name?"
"Because I know you, my dear man. Don't tell me you haven't forgotten about me yet?" The stranger's voice was deep and Aragorn growled low in his throat.
"Show yourself." He demanded.
"All in good time, ranger. Now how about that hot meal?"
"Not before I know who you are. I am not going to share precious stock with somebody I do not know. You could be something evil…" Aragorn moved to his pack, keeping his sword steady.
"You would have known if I was evil, my dear boy. But very well, but bear in mind that appearances can be deceiving." Weathered hands pushed the hood back to reveal a smile, kind, elderly face with piercing blue eyes, bushy eyebrows and a full grey beard.
"Gandalf?" Aragorn nearly dropped his sword in surprise. The younger man stared at Gandalf and then the older wizard nodded.
"Of course I am Gandalf, my dear boy, who else had you been expecting? Now, shall we see about that hot meal?" The wizard set his staff down, laying it carefully on the ground as Aragorn sheathed his sword.
The man took out his pack, returning with a pan to fetch water as he said. "I do not have that much stock. I have only recently left the encampment and I am supposed to last several months in the wild. I would like to save them until I have a change to go hunting. There isn't much game in these lands at the moment."
"It is a good thing that my haunting was successful this morning. I have managed to catch a rabbit. We will be able to eat from that. But surely you do not mean to spend all this time on your own without restocking?"
"I do plan to restock but I do not know where to go. I do not know the area very well yet." Aragorn put some more wood on the fire to build it higher as he took out a loaf of bread he had saved for when he had a change to hunt.
Gandalf shifted as he took up a knife and tossed it to Aragorn. "Skin the rabbits, will you?" The wizard paused to light up his pipe and continued. "There is the encampment where you came from but if I understand you and I do, my boy, you cannot return there until the six months are up. You must show that you are able to survive on your own. You could travel south to Rohan or Gondor through the journey will be long. There is Lorien, an elvish colony but it might be hard to gain entrance without Lady Galadriel's consent. There is Rivendell; through I can understand why you wouldn't want to go there at the moment…."
The wizard took a long deep breath from his pipe and blew out the smoke in an amazing ring. Aragorn watched fascinated. "I would like to travel to Gondor and Rohan one day."
"You should, my dear boy. The people there are fascinating, though I suggest a slight name change if you do. They might not take kindly to one of the heirs to the throne simply coming to take a peek. The stewards that lead Gondor are fierce and they have kept the throne long. The people of Gondor have no hope anymore that their king will ever return."
"I will think long and hard on a name then."
"Might I suggest a name?" Gandalf blew out another smoke ring and Aragorn gave a nod.
"Thorongil."
"Eagle of the star? Isn't that a bit…I mean the name is good….but won't they recognize it and me?"
"They won't, my dear boy, they will not know the name. But let me continue, there are a few human settlements in this area but they do not like strangers, especially the Dunedain. There is a little place called the Shire which isn't far from here and then there is, east of the Misty Mountains, Mirkwood, Thranduil's realm. It is a dangerous place, Mirkwood and no human has set foot in it for years. But I think you might just manage and if you would pass that way, I have a letter here for Thranduil from Elrond. He has asked me to deliver it but I think I would rather go to the south for the winter."
Aragorn frowned, for some reason he had a feeling that Gandalf had meant to find him here.
"Did Elrond say anything else?"
"Yes, many things but I do not wish to bore you with them. He did say that he wished you the best and to remind you that you always have a home in Rivendell."
Gandalf watched closely for Aragorn's reaction. The wizard hadn't missed it when Aragorn refused to say father. He had seen the pity and the sorrow in Elrond's eyes when the elven lord had spoken to him about Aragorn. Elrond was proud but he had been sad to know that this had been the way he had to treat his child.
"I know but I am not yet ready to return home. I need to sort out some things first and I need to prove to myself that I am capable of doing this. Elrond wishes to see me on the throne. It is that or exile."
"All in good time, my dear lad. Now have you made up your mind yet?"
"I think I would like to see Mirkwood. It is best to cross the Misty Mountains before the first snow falls or else I will be trapped and I can travel back when the passes open again in the spring." Aragorn smiled to himself. It felt good to make a decision again and as he filed the name Gandalf had given him away for later. He was going to Mirkwood.
I hope you liked it. Review of course. Next instalment will be that Aragorn crosses the misty mountains and gets into trouble, needing some assistance by a blond elf we all know so well.