Author's note: I have no idea how long this story will be and where this will go, but I really needed to work on something a bit less time-consuming than my last multiple chapters story (that you can find on there in french). Updates will be slow and irregular.

Still, I do hope you will find this story interesting and that the first chapter will make you want to read more.

I'm not a native English speaker, but I'm quite confident that this story makes a little bit of sense. If not, do kindly tell me so I can fix it.


Summary:

When tasked by Gandalf to bring Gollum to the Elvenking, Aragorn expected the journey to be long and wearisome, but not to be hindered by the woodelves at its very end.

Forced to surrender himself and his prey to the marchwardens in order to complete his task, he learns about their customs and dialect, and in the meanwhile discovers that there was more truth about the Elvenking and his people in Bilbo's stories than he thought. Dangerous and suspicious they are, but not unwise and unmerciful.

Eventually, as he is led to the Elvenking by his own carefree and lighthearted son, Aragorn finds himself thinking that he still has a lot to learn before he can hope to become king.


Chapter 1

Aragorn looked up and watched wearily as the creature tore into the hare's flesh. How he loathed it. He loathed everything of it. The sight, the smell, the sound. He loathed when it crawled, when it chew on a squishy meat, or when it screamed. He bore the loath in his heart, but he could do nothing about it. Gollum was his task, and he would complete it.

But the two long months he had been spending with the creature wore him out. It had been a constant battle to drag him and shut him up, being overvigilant that he would not escape or cause enough ruckus to attract predators. Futhermore, they had entered Mirkwood several days ago, and it had been making the ranger nervous. It was not the first time he came to the forest, but the last had been with Mithrandir. The atmosphere now felt heavier and darker. In addition, he had been under the impression someone or something was spying on him since he passed the Old Forest Road the day before. He was not sure whether it was an enemy, but it felt definitely distrustful.

He wished to be done with this task. He was to lead Gollum to the Elvenking's halls, but Mithrandir had told him those were in the Northeast of the forest, behind the dark mountains. He had wondered why he could not have taken the creature to the Golden Woods, surely the Lord or Lady would have understood the urgency of Mithrandir's request? He had had to make a detour there to send a message to the wise. But no, the istar had asked to bring the creature to Thranduil specifically.

"It is time to go now," the ranger said with authority and he was answered with a hiss. From the low branch he was sitting on, he saw Gollum trying to climb higher, but he stopped the creature's ascension by pulling the rope with which he was tied.

"I said we go now," he spoke again with ice in his voice. This time, Gollum looked down at him with a dangerous stare before he started to scream like a fussy child. Aragorn was suddenly taken by an overwhelming feeling of distress, and jumping on the ground, he pulled the rope with brute strength until the slim beast body was thrown before him with a thud. The ranger then winded the rope around his hand to prevent Gollum from fleeing, but the creature just kept squealing and hitting the ground under him, so Aragorn crouched to catch his neck and press it against the forest floor.

"Make another sound and I will make sure to tie you to a tree so the orcs find you when the wizard is done with you."

The creature froze under the threat. He had learnt Gollum's fear of the orcs since he had started travelling with him. From what he had understood from its mumblings and all the marks on its body, they had tortured him for months. He knew not for what reasons and what they had drawn from him, but it would certainly be of importance for Mithrandir.

Aragorn sighed when he felt the creature becoming limp under his hand. He carefully let go of him, and stood up, still holding the rope tightly.

"Let us go."

He pulled softly and Gollum rolled on the ground, getting to his feet and hands, then started to crawl before him towards the north. He followed, guiding him by pulling the rope to the left or right and the beast complained no longer, but continued his mutterings and mumblings. The ground had started to slope the night before and was now quite craggy and rough, so their progress was slower. Now the sun was already low in the west, hiding behind the forest's border, and Aragorn was starting to tire from his long walk when something drew his attention. He paused and pulled the rope to stop Gollum so he could listen. The beast hissed but became silent when crossing the dangerous glare of the ranger.

Everything seemed normal. He could hear the rustling of the leaves and the scratching of the squirrels. He could see the jiggle of the small bushes and the swift shadows of the foxes. Actually, everything seemed more normal than when he had entered the forest several days before. All had been silent and heavy. Now he could hear some birds twitter and squeak. But it was… strange. Strangely coordinated and structured?

But before he could decide whether such pattern was normal, he felt the urge to draw his sword, so he did, pulling at the same time the rope to him. He was sure now that someone was spying on him and they were close, very close. Next to him, Gollum must have sensed something too for he was shrivelling on the ground, making whining noise like a dog would.

For a moment, Aragorn's eyes travelled from trees to bushes, looking for evidence that someone was there, but he could not see anything move apart from the leaves swimming in the soft wind and he could not hear anything apart from the birds' song. But was it really birds?

"Show yourselves!" he then said aloud with an authoritative voice. For a moment, nothing happened and he thought himself a fool to imagine things, but at his feet, Gollum kept whimpering and he still had a weird feeling of being watched. But eventually, he heard a laugh. A warm joyous laugh that seemed out of place in this dark and dangerous forest. At first, he thought he imagined it, but then after a pause, another came, and finally, a clear voice rose.

"What is it?" it said in a weirdly accented Sindarin. "A human hunter speaking the elven tongue in these parts is unheard of."

"Nay, nay, look!" another mischievous voice spoke. "He has looks of weary traveller, but his mount is newer sort."

Several laughs answered. The ranger could not guess how many elves were hiding in the trees, for they were indeed woodelves, and their voices came from all around him. But suddenly, a shadow emerged from the tree before him, jumping on the forest floor without a sound. As soon as the elf's feet touched the floor, they aimed their bow, pointing an arrow at his head. He froze. These were not mere hunter elves, but marchwardens, warriors of the Elvenking. And this one was dangerous.

The elf before him had lost all the mischief of the voices he had heard a moment earlier. His face was grave and his eyes were burning with danger. It was said that elves did not bear any scar, but Aragorn had found long ago that it was untrue. They wore scars until their skin regenerated entirely but it took typically less time than for men. The ranger could tell this elf sustained a wound recently, for his face still displayed a long and linear scar crossing from his right temple to his left ear, still red and textured.

"Who are you, stranger?" asked the elf. "And why are you trespassing into the Elvenking's realm bringing with you this foul creature?"

Aragorn hesitated. He had no idea whether Mithrandir trusted the woodelves entirely, and if that was the case, the ranger was not sure this extended to a mere marchwarden. Still, he had to reach the Elvenking, and for that, he needed the marchwarden to bring him there. He sheathed his sword, never taking his eyes from the woodelf before him.

"I was sent by Mithrandir to bring this creature to your liege, the Elvenking," he said finally. The elf frowned in front of him, then several shadows fell on the ground from the trees around the ranger. Other elves, dressed in similar fashion than the first one, in brown uniforms and green cloaks. Aragorn counted ten, but he was not sure they all left the safety of the tree branches. Voices rose, but the ranger did not understand of what they spoke. It sounded like Sindarin, but was not, words being oddly accentuated and grammar all mixed up. The dialect seemed similar to the one the Galadhrim spoke, but with a distinct ring. He did hear them pronounce Mithrandir's name several time, and understood they were conferring about what he had told them.

Eventually, the elf with the scar raised his hand and his subordinates fell silent. He seemed irritated.

"Last time Mithrandir brought strangers to us, they were dwarves and they caused much trouble in the whole Rhovanion. Tell us who you are and we might be inclined to believe you. You are a man, yet you speak the elven tongue as if it were your native language, and you speak it with the accent of the western elves."

"I am of the Dunedain, who have long maintain contact with the elves of Imladris, trading and exchanging information with them. I am called by many names, but I will keep them for the ears of your king only."

"You are presumptuous, Dunadan, to think we will lead to our king a stranger refusing to disclose his identity. Moreover, your purpose is unclear. What interest should our king have for this pitiful being?"

"None that I know of. But Mithrandir counts the Elvenking among his friends and his interest is to have Gollum brought and kept in safe hands."

"Gollum?"

"This is what he calls himself."

"Well, Dunadan, we cannot let you roam freely our land without evidence of your link to the wise one, and we cannot let you go back whence you came. We will bring you to our barracks, and send word to our commander who will take your enquiry to the king."

Aragorn frowned. It could take weeks and he would be their prisoner in the meanwhile. He had no other choice and he hoped the king would accept to receive him shortly, or even better, that Mithrandir would come. He did not wish to tarry here, when he already had spent so much time in the wild. Seeing that the scarred elf was waiting for a sign of understanding, he nodded. The warden then put his arrow away and disbanded his bow.

"I am Melroch, captain of the southern borderguard," the elf said while bringing his left hand to his forehead and moving it down to his chin in a kind of greeting gesture Aragorn was not familiar with. The elf then signalled another to bring him something, and was soon held out a waterskin that he opened, looking down inquisitively at the same time at Gollum.

The creature had been whimpering the whole time Aragorn had discussed with Melroch and was now pulling on the rope to get away as he saw the elf approach and crouch before him.

"What has been done to you?" Melroch muttered with a frown, seeing all the scars and marks Gollum's thin body wore. In reply, the creature roared at him disdainfully.

"Beware, do not let yourself be deceived. He is tainted by evil and would try to murder you at the first opportunity."

"Aye they would, if I were to treat them like they had been."

Melroch raised burning eyes to Aragorn, and the ranger felt deep his judgement and disdain. He was suddenly ashamed even though he had no regret. Gollum had bitten and tried to kill him on multiple times on their journey, and by doing so had gained his wrath and hatred. Only thirst and hunger had eventually tamed the beast. Aragorn did not reply though, supporting the elf's glare with defiance.

With a raised eyebrow, Melroch reached out with his palm, and Aragorn assumed he wanted the rope so he unrolled it from his hand and gave him gladly, stepping away. He felt suddenly light and free without the tight squeezing of the rough strings in his grip. He had not let it go since the moment he had captured Gollum, and had had to keep it constantly entwined to his hand to ensure he would not escape, sleeping moments by moments, never profiting from a night long rest. It was a relief.

He watched then as Melroch got up, keeping easily a tight hold on the rope, and looked aghast when the elf turned the waterskin upside down over Gollum's head, spilling the entirety of its content on him. The creature cried and squealed as the clear liquid trickled down on him, but at Aragorn's surprise, he did not attack, for he did not have the time before he fell on his knees and hands on the ground then dropped like a rag doll, eyes closed and unresponsive.

"What have you done to him?" cried Aragorn with shock.

"It is only water," answered Melroch without any concern. He signalled an elf with curly hair as dark as her skin to take care of Gollum. She made a face before sighing and approaching the creature to pick him up and placing his frail body on her shoulder.

"Water does not usually do that." He did not think the elf had poisoned Gollum, but he could not be so sure.

"Water from the enchanted river does. This is the reason for its name. Do not fret, Dunadan, your prey is safe and sound, we will let them wake when we arrive at the barracks. Now your turn."

Aragorn must have made a funny face for Melroch chuckled for the first time since revealing himself. Another elf with bright green eyes approached, smiling, and handed the ranger a piece of cloth. Aragorn frowned, and understood only when the elf mimicked the gesture of blindfolding his own eyes, without a word.

"Should we do it for you?" asked Melroch with a soft snicker. Aragorn sent him a glare then took the blindfold, putting it on his eyes and tying it tightly behind his head.

The cloth was so thick he could not see more than a subdued light between his nose and cheekbones. He heard Melroch spoke in their strange silvan dialect, then felt hands taking away his weapons, sword, knives and arrows, leaving only his unstrunged bow on his back. He hated being unarmed. Eventually, someone grabbed him gently by his arm.

"Gladhîn will lead you," Melroch told him before he was being pressed forward.


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