Thanks for reading the start of my story everyone! Here is the next chapter hope you all like it. Please review as whether it be good or bad I would love to here what you think and any ideas or suggestions for the next chapter would be really useful!
For two whole days Aragorn had been tracking a set of hoof prints. There was nothing strange in this as a ranger he was skilled in reading tracks and deciphering their meaning, and would often track down prints in the forest soil - but these ones were different, and he couldn't place his finger on why. It was unusual at any rate for a single rider to wander on their own in these parts.
He was standing not far from a group of trees that surrounded a small hill, he had often ventured up their to stare across the wild landscape. He was about to go up and see if he could spot the mysterious rider, when his eyes lighted upon the hoof prints, he could see even from his distance that they wove up the hill. Cautiously he stepped forward, carefully staying among the trees and keeping himself well hidden from view. Right at the top of the hill, standing behind a tall tree he looked out and his eyes widened with surprise.
A figure robed in white, with a hood pulled so low that it covered all features of the face, sat upon a white horse that seemed to shine with an inner glory, it was tall and by far more beautiful than any horse he had ever laid eyes upon. The horse stirred its noble head and turned its soft blue eyes directly onto the shadow of the ranger. The figure in turn moved its head to look among the trees.
Aragon had a unnerving sense that both the horse and rider could see him, for the first time in his life his powers of hiding unseen in the trees had proved futile.
"Come and show yourself Aragon son of Arathorn." Said a calm enchanting voice.
"That's the second time someone has known my name before I have even introduced myself."
Aragorn called out in an almost questioning and partly confused manner.
"Some can see what others cannot," came the quiet reply.
Aragorn, ever guarding, could not be sure if this strange figure was good or evil, and his had flew silently to the cold silver of his sword hilt. Though the figure never raised their head, or even cast their eyes upon him, they seemed to see his every action.
"I mean you no harm, ranger of the north. Lay your hand from the weapon and we can both speak as equals."
"May I ask who you are stranger?" Aragorn asked politely, but still with wariness etched in his voice.
"You may, but I can choose not to answer," was the reply.
Aragorn eyed the stranger with curiosity. There was a certain secret majesty about rider but the horse had a wild beauty, with its long flowing main, it seemed to echo something in its every movements. A most fitting steed for such a mysterious rider.
The stranger's hand gently stroked the horse's neck. Suddenly a flash of light caught Aragorn's eye, a sliver ring on the hand was shimmering in the light catching and reflecting the many shades of the evening like the starlight of winter. As if sensing the rangers gaze the hand was withdrawn yet again into the folds of the white cloak that hide the stranger's features.
Gently pulling the rein, the rider guided the horse round, till the figure looked straight down at Aragorn before turning to gaze out at the landscape that stretched away.
"I have long yet to go before days end. I will not say farewell for we may yet meet again." Spoke the stranger calmly, before with a quick word to the horse, they raced down the hill, the cloak billowing in the wind, mingled with the long white main of the horse. They rode as fluidly as the sea waves across the sand.
Aragorn watched as the white horse and rider disappeared from view as the first star of the evening appeared in the heavens shining with glory on Middle Earth.