He goes out into the Wild to learn what it is to be a Man, and more, to learn how to be a leader of Men, one who his people will follow, to death or glory.
It is necessary.
She knows this.
For centuries every Dunedain mother, every Dunedain wife, has faced this same abyss, to guard the home while her loved ones go out. For centuries, Dunedain women have let their sons and daughters and husbands and brothers go to war, and waited.
It makes the waiting no easier.
Aragorn goes out into the Wild and every time he returns Gilraen is a little more worn, a little more tired, a little more old.
But she still manages to smile for him when he comes home.
"Welcome home, Aragorn."
Her hands are still firm, but there is a tremor to them now, that was not there when he left.
Those hands that have always been so strong, so steady, are captured and brought to warm lips. Aragorn loves learning of the world - it is a necessity - but he loves coming home perhaps more. She has never admonished him for his restlessness; for how far he journeys from her, yet he is one who knows the art of Healing. He can see the strain written on her beloved features and he is not foolish enough to imagine he hasn't caused it.
"Mother." he beams and kneels before her for her blessing, wrapping his arms around her waist, "Are you well?"
His restlessness is eased, momentarily, in her embrace. He returns the affection openly; without an ounce of shame or hesitation. Aragorn has been raised with an open heart and if love is felt, it should be shown!
"I finished it early. I have brought you healing herbs and wildflowers." as well as animal skins that can be tanned and made into blankets to keep her warm.
Gilraen's worry is eased by his assurance, and her smile is very fond.
"Thank you, my son. As thoughtful as ever, I see."
She does not ask for news beyond that - in secrecy lies still their greatest strength, and even if Aragorn walks now as Arathorn's son, best not to say too much, just in case.
He smiles and rises onto his feet, kissing her brow.
"I think of you often, no matter how far I travel from home." he gives her a small, mischievous smile and walks to his horse, picking up the furs that need to be tanned, "I wish to stay with you for a time...if you do not mind?"
"Yes." her reaction is reason enough to stay. As restless as he feels, searching for Eru knows what, she is his mother and she is infinitely more important than any journey to him.
"I will help with preparations if it is needed." his horse is eager to greet Gilraen too, causing Aragorn to chuckle.
Someone was going to suffer as soon as he figured out who. Last thing he remembered was tripping over a tree root on the planet breaking up beneath him and suddenly he fell face first onto a paved street. The undignified face plant he just did was the least of his worries as he looked around. There was no snow and the ground was steady under his feet.
He touched the pocket of his greatcoat, glad to feel the familiar weight of his blaster there. These people looked primitive though, it was like he suddenly found himself on Yavin or Endor. Hopefully there weren't any Ewoks lurking somewhere.
He wasn't sure how this happened but he was going to blame Ren even if he wasn't directly responsible. It felt good to have a target of his anger but he kept his expression calm as what he assumed were two guards approached him. Their weapons were positively ancient, no one really used swords like that since before even the Old Republic.
He didn't protest when they lead him to the castle to meet with a king but Hux wasn't impressed as he stepped into the throne room. It almost reminded him of holos he had seen of Naboo in terms of the architecture. He supposed all he could was wait for this king though he bristled at the idea of having to wait for someone else, especially if they had somehow managed to kidnap him.
Establishing boundaries would be important and Hux decided to take a seat on the empty throne, crossing his legs casually as he waited. There would be no doubt who was in charge here. He slipped out his datapad to pull up information while he waited, glad it worked but he couldn't connect to anything which was frustrating.
The King would arrive in his own time, following news of an odd foreigner. He felt uneasy at the description, wondering if perhaps they hailed from the East. Easterlings were well-known for their allegiance to Sauron and Aragorn would not have them causing more trouble in his lands - or the lands of Rohan.
Hux would soon be faced with a six foot six inch tall Man, wearing the crown of Gondor. He was dressed in twilight blue with soft sable pants. Despite the antiquity of his appearance, Aragorn was not a figure that could be denied.
"Comfortable?" his brows rose at the - was it meant to be an insult? The throne was a symbol, of course, but since it was just them, it was only a chair to him. The King stood before Hux and he did not require a seat to establish his authority.
"I am Aragorh II Elessar, King of the Gondorian people. What brings you to Minas Tirith?"
Hux looked up as someone entered, almost looking bored. He had to be careful to not appear weak, holding up a finger for Aragorn to wait for a moment as he switched off his datapad before looking up once more.
"Not particularly," he said as he leaned back, taking in Aragorn's appearance thoughtfully.
"I was hoping you could tell me. I assume you or one of your people brought me here and have a plan for what happens next. Usually you should have a plan when you kidnap someone," he said bluntly. "I've never heard of your people, what star system is this?"
Wow. Random h! How dare you creep into Aragorn's name. >8(
So he was impudent. Aragorn was not impressed and he considered leaving this one to the prison cells deep within the city, however he was not a King who made such decisions when frustrated. Instead, he stiffened his back, lips pressed into a thin line.
"We have no use for you." he wondered if this was some sort of...malevolent spirit...in the form of a Man. Who else would behave so poorly?
"Star system?" no, this wasn't getting better, "You are on Arda or Middle Earth. We have named some of the stars, but even the Elves do not know of star systems."
"So you brought me here either to show the First Order that you could or just for your own amusement? Either way, it was a poor decision," he remarked as he stood, approaching Aragorn. He wasn't sure if this man was a Force user but Hux wasn't an expert in the matter.
"Tell me the name of your stars," he said as he took out his datapad, inputing 'Arda' into the galactic map search but nothing came up. "Now, Aragorn, tell me what happens next. If you didn't have a plan before, you better have now."
If Aragorn didn't realize who he had, Hux wasn't going to let him have that information. It would be giving this king more power if it came down to negotiations.
"I did not bring you here; nor did my people." he rested a hand, almost lazily on Andúril's hilt, ready to draw the blade, "I suggest you stop blaming those not responsible for your current predicament. We will get much farther if you tell me more about you and what you recall."
He was sorely tempted to summon his guards and be rid of this...headache of a Man. If he was a Man.
"You are welcome to examine the maps in the library. However most of them are in Elvish." which would require cooperation, "I seek to help you; not hinder you. Do you think I spend my days kidnapping those I do not know for no purpose?"
"Someone did and I doubt it was without a reason. You can deny it if you wish but I suggest you remain on my good side. It will make all the difference in the future of your people and your planet," he remarked as he slipped his datapad back into his pocket.
"My name is Hux, I serve on the star destroyer Finalizer." No rank, he wouldn't give this king any such satisfaction of knowing he had a general. He looked amused when Aragorn touched the hilt of his sword, he doubted it was a lightsaber.
"I don't know, I've seen rulers of star systems make...unfortunate decisions before. One piece of advice I will give you is not to bother with your sword if it's just metal. It wouldn't end well for you." Hux may be a bridge commander but he was certain that a blaster was far more effective.
If he could draw his Blaster fast enough. Aragorn was not known as one of the best - if not the best - swordsman of his Age for nothing. An Elvish blade could likely cut through a Blaster and make it inoperable.
"He who destroys stars is not welcome in my kingdom." for the stars were created by Queen Varda and they brought joy and guidance to those who roamed the lands below, "I caution you against attacking me or anyone in this palace. You will not like the results."
Yet he did not draw Andúril. This was a plea for peace; for calm, rational thought.
Aragorn might be drawn by raised voices, to one of the rooms of Healing in Imladris. One voice was Elrond's, the other would be that of a stranger. If the Man approached the room, he'd hear Elrond threatening {in Quenya, rather than Sindarin} the stranger with singing him asleep if he kept struggling and trying to flee.
If Aragorn crept a bit closer... he'd hear a sigh and the strange voice softened, affection touching the wry answer. "You would. Very well. Do as you wish."
There was quiet after that, only the familiar soft sounds of the Master Healer at work in fixing up the wounds of any who came injured to the Valley. Eventually Elrond left, sweeping down the halls away, leaving the Healing room swathed in warm, healing energy.
It was strange to hear any raised voices in Imladris and Aragorn's curiosity was as boundless as his energy. Those who guarded him thought him remarkable for a Man - so tireless even when running - but the world was so big and Aragorn wished to know all of it.
He did not have the luxury of Elvish years to learn, either, so he slept little and kept moving.
His steps brought him to the room and he peered in, brow furrowing in confusion. Who was his Ada healing? Why did their voices sound so familiar? What language did they speak? It wasn't Sindarin.
Then...Quenya?
This must be an old Elf.
He ducked into the shadows as Elrond passed. Then he slipped into the room, footsteps careful, cautious. At first, he was struck by the fiery hair - an odd and rare color for an Elf. Quietly, he examined what was on the nearest table, looking for clues.
Fortunately for Maedhros, Elrond hadn't needed to make him sleep despite his threat. But he was resting, laying quietly under sheets with his chest and whole arm well wrapped, along with a few shallow cuts healing on his face.
He heard quiet steps slip into his room but feigned sleep to see just who had the courage to sneak in. On the table, Aragorn would find a long sword that looked brand new, yet had the sense of having seen many Ages. No clothing, for Elrond had taken it with him for cleaning and mending.
A few sneaky glances of his own showed him a young Man. And so he spoke up, using the Common Tongue. "And who might my visitor be?"
The sword surprised him; he knew a fine Elvish blade by sight after watching the Elves hammer them into shape in the Forge. His hand hovered over it and he was momentarily entranced by the beauty of the silver. This blade was made for a skilled warrior.
Had there been a battle? The all too familiar knot surfaced in his chest at the thought. Aragorn was not fond of battles. Battles meant death, pain and chaos. He would never shy from them, yet he did not seek them as other Men his age did.
Jumping at the voice, he turned and fixed Maedhros with a pair of grey eyes that were not unlike Elrond's own.
"Am I disturbing you? I can leave..." but he was already moving to the bed, frowning in concern, "I am called Estel or Aragorn."
That sword had served Maedhros well, he relied on it just as he relied on his brother. The battle he'd been in had been necessary. Helping at the edges, where reinforcements might be bogged down before they could even reach their comrades. Then he had taken more wounds than normal and lost consciousness, finding himself picked up by the same people he'd protected and brought to the last place he felt he should be.
Imladris. He'd woken to find Elrond himself tending him. Hence the half-hearted arguing before he'd caved to his foster-son's stubborn mercies.
The familiar eyes startled him and he had to wonder. Elrond's own concern shined in this youth and he could only respond to it. "You are not."
A smile touched weary eyes, his lips twitched. "Estel? An interesting name."
There were further signs of Elrond in Aragorn's mannerisms. He visually assessed the wounds, lightly touching the bandaged arm with gentle fingertips. His Ada had much skill in binding and encouraging a body to heal. While the wounds concerned him, there was admiration in his eyes too.
"Are you in much pain?" he knew of ways to soothe it that were not as powerful as the methods Elrond used, "Lord Elrond chose it for me when I arrived with my mother."
A flush touched his cheeks; he knew the meaning of his Elvish name and he felt it very hard to live up to "hope".
And Elros, the Elf suspected. Those eyes were too close to the twins' to not be descended from one. Maedhros held himself still under the gentle touches, expression unreadable.
"Lord Elrond ensured I am not." Not enough to speak of. "Then your arrival here signified estel for him. I think it appropriate." The likely connection to Elros alone would make it so.
Aragorn grabbed some salve from the bedside table and began to apply it lightly to the cuts on Maedhros's face. Any stinging would be numbed instantly and the mixture gave off a cool, clean scent meant to soothe.
"I think it the other way around." he had only recently learned of his parentage and his...destiny.
"Without his kindness, my mother and I would have been slain by Orcs too."
Though he had been so young, he had memories of that day. Elrond had looked so angry, so fierce when he addressed his sons for information. Aragorn had been half-frightened of him and clinging to Gilraen's skirt. But then the Elven Lord had turned and given him such a sweet, yet somehow sad smile that he had gone to him instantly.
Gemini wasn't at all sure how she'd got into this world. The first thing she remembered was waking up on a snowy mountain peak, green plains stretching as far as the eye could see to the north and rolling hills with many rivers to the south.
Taking to the air as a falcon she had followed the mountains east until a stone city had come into view. It was not what she had expected. Had she gone back in time to the middle-ages? Her grasp of history was not strong, although as she switched to a smaller avian form to land unnoticed, based on the clothing and the appearance of the buildings that seemed the best bet, everyone seemed human at least so she must be somewhere on Earth.
After several hours spent wandering the streets in the form of a dog, Gemini had no intention of blending in amongst the throng. A woman of her talents demanded a certain level of luxury! So she'd oozed into one of the stone city's mansions and killed the owner as he slept, using his appearance to question his servants and learn more about the world she'd appeared in.
A few days spent at court and she soon realised there was someone much better she could be. Someone with more power, wealthier by far and an appearance she wouldn't mind wearing over her current chunky unattractive male form.
She felt like she was going to quite enjoy being Queen Arwen Evenstar. For now though she as Lord Haldon strode unhurriedly in the darkening evening back towards his mansion in the sixth circle from his attendance at council, trying not to make an expression of disgust as her boot shaped feet squished in a pile of horse droppings.
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It is necessary.
She knows this.
For centuries every Dunedain mother, every Dunedain wife, has faced this same abyss, to guard the home while her loved ones go out. For centuries, Dunedain women have let their sons and daughters and husbands and brothers go to war, and waited.
It makes the waiting no easier.
Aragorn goes out into the Wild and every time he returns Gilraen is a little more worn, a little more tired, a little more old.
But she still manages to smile for him when he comes home.
"Welcome home, Aragorn."
Her hands are still firm, but there is a tremor to them now, that was not there when he left.
MAMA <3
"Mother." he beams and kneels before her for her blessing, wrapping his arms around her waist, "Are you well?"
baby~
"I do well enough, my son. You are back unlooked for - did you errand go well?"
<3 <3 <3 <3 x a million
"I finished it early. I have brought you healing herbs and wildflowers." as well as animal skins that can be tanned and made into blankets to keep her warm.
<3 x infinity
"Thank you, my son. As thoughtful as ever, I see."
She does not ask for news beyond that - in secrecy lies still their greatest strength, and even if Aragorn walks now as Arathorn's son, best not to say too much, just in case.
"Will you be staying long, this time?"
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"I think of you often, no matter how far I travel from home." he gives her a small, mischievous smile and walks to his horse, picking up the furs that need to be tanned, "I wish to stay with you for a time...if you do not mind?"
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She smiles up at him.
"Of course not. You will be here for Mettare, then? That will please your grandfather."
And her too, of course.
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"I will help with preparations if it is needed." his horse is eager to greet Gilraen too, causing Aragorn to chuckle.
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He touched the pocket of his greatcoat, glad to feel the familiar weight of his blaster there. These people looked primitive though, it was like he suddenly found himself on Yavin or Endor. Hopefully there weren't any Ewoks lurking somewhere.
He wasn't sure how this happened but he was going to blame Ren even if he wasn't directly responsible. It felt good to have a target of his anger but he kept his expression calm as what he assumed were two guards approached him. Their weapons were positively ancient, no one really used swords like that since before even the Old Republic.
He didn't protest when they lead him to the castle to meet with a king but Hux wasn't impressed as he stepped into the throne room. It almost reminded him of holos he had seen of Naboo in terms of the architecture. He supposed all he could was wait for this king though he bristled at the idea of having to wait for someone else, especially if they had somehow managed to kidnap him.
Establishing boundaries would be important and Hux decided to take a seat on the empty throne, crossing his legs casually as he waited. There would be no doubt who was in charge here. He slipped out his datapad to pull up information while he waited, glad it worked but he couldn't connect to anything which was frustrating.
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Hux would soon be faced with a six foot six inch tall Man, wearing the crown of Gondor. He was dressed in twilight blue with soft sable pants. Despite the antiquity of his appearance, Aragorn was not a figure that could be denied.
"Comfortable?" his brows rose at the - was it meant to be an insult? The throne was a symbol, of course, but since it was just them, it was only a chair to him. The King stood before Hux and he did not require a seat to establish his authority.
"I am Aragorh II Elessar, King of the Gondorian people. What brings you to Minas Tirith?"
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"Not particularly," he said as he leaned back, taking in Aragorn's appearance thoughtfully.
"I was hoping you could tell me. I assume you or one of your people brought me here and have a plan for what happens next. Usually you should have a plan when you kidnap someone," he said bluntly. "I've never heard of your people, what star system is this?"
Wow. Random h! How dare you creep into Aragorn's name. >8(
"We have no use for you." he wondered if this was some sort of...malevolent spirit...in the form of a Man. Who else would behave so poorly?
"Star system?" no, this wasn't getting better, "You are on Arda or Middle Earth. We have named some of the stars, but even the Elves do not know of star systems."
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"Tell me the name of your stars," he said as he took out his datapad, inputing 'Arda' into the galactic map search but nothing came up. "Now, Aragorn, tell me what happens next. If you didn't have a plan before, you better have now."
If Aragorn didn't realize who he had, Hux wasn't going to let him have that information. It would be giving this king more power if it came down to negotiations.
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He was sorely tempted to summon his guards and be rid of this...headache of a Man. If he was a Man.
"You are welcome to examine the maps in the library. However most of them are in Elvish." which would require cooperation, "I seek to help you; not hinder you. Do you think I spend my days kidnapping those I do not know for no purpose?"
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"My name is Hux, I serve on the star destroyer Finalizer." No rank, he wouldn't give this king any such satisfaction of knowing he had a general. He looked amused when Aragorn touched the hilt of his sword, he doubted it was a lightsaber.
"I don't know, I've seen rulers of star systems make...unfortunate decisions before. One piece of advice I will give you is not to bother with your sword if it's just metal. It wouldn't end well for you." Hux may be a bridge commander but he was certain that a blaster was far more effective.
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"He who destroys stars is not welcome in my kingdom." for the stars were created by Queen Varda and they brought joy and guidance to those who roamed the lands below, "I caution you against attacking me or anyone in this palace. You will not like the results."
Yet he did not draw Andúril. This was a plea for peace; for calm, rational thought.
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If Aragorn crept a bit closer... he'd hear a sigh and the strange voice softened, affection touching the wry answer. "You would. Very well. Do as you wish."
There was quiet after that, only the familiar soft sounds of the Master Healer at work in fixing up the wounds of any who came injured to the Valley. Eventually Elrond left, sweeping down the halls away, leaving the Healing room swathed in warm, healing energy.
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He did not have the luxury of Elvish years to learn, either, so he slept little and kept moving.
His steps brought him to the room and he peered in, brow furrowing in confusion. Who was his Ada healing? Why did their voices sound so familiar? What language did they speak? It wasn't Sindarin.
Then...Quenya?
This must be an old Elf.
He ducked into the shadows as Elrond passed. Then he slipped into the room, footsteps careful, cautious. At first, he was struck by the fiery hair - an odd and rare color for an Elf. Quietly, he examined what was on the nearest table, looking for clues.
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He heard quiet steps slip into his room but feigned sleep to see just who had the courage to sneak in. On the table, Aragorn would find a long sword that looked brand new, yet had the sense of having seen many Ages. No clothing, for Elrond had taken it with him for cleaning and mending.
A few sneaky glances of his own showed him a young Man. And so he spoke up, using the Common Tongue. "And who might my visitor be?"
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Had there been a battle? The all too familiar knot surfaced in his chest at the thought. Aragorn was not fond of battles. Battles meant death, pain and chaos. He would never shy from them, yet he did not seek them as other Men his age did.
Jumping at the voice, he turned and fixed Maedhros with a pair of grey eyes that were not unlike Elrond's own.
"Am I disturbing you? I can leave..." but he was already moving to the bed, frowning in concern, "I am called Estel or Aragorn."
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Imladris. He'd woken to find Elrond himself tending him. Hence the half-hearted arguing before he'd caved to his foster-son's stubborn mercies.
The familiar eyes startled him and he had to wonder. Elrond's own concern shined in this youth and he could only respond to it. "You are not."
A smile touched weary eyes, his lips twitched. "Estel? An interesting name."
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"Are you in much pain?" he knew of ways to soothe it that were not as powerful as the methods Elrond used, "Lord Elrond chose it for me when I arrived with my mother."
A flush touched his cheeks; he knew the meaning of his Elvish name and he felt it very hard to live up to "hope".
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"Lord Elrond ensured I am not." Not enough to speak of. "Then your arrival here signified estel for him. I think it appropriate." The likely connection to Elros alone would make it so.
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"I think it the other way around." he had only recently learned of his parentage and his...destiny.
"Without his kindness, my mother and I would have been slain by Orcs too."
Though he had been so young, he had memories of that day. Elrond had looked so angry, so fierce when he addressed his sons for information. Aragorn had been half-frightened of him and clinging to Gilraen's skirt. But then the Elven Lord had turned and given him such a sweet, yet somehow sad smile that he had gone to him instantly.
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Taking to the air as a falcon she had followed the mountains east until a stone city had come into view. It was not what she had expected. Had she gone back in time to the middle-ages? Her grasp of history was not strong, although as she switched to a smaller avian form to land unnoticed, based on the clothing and the appearance of the buildings that seemed the best bet, everyone seemed human at least so she must be somewhere on Earth.
After several hours spent wandering the streets in the form of a dog, Gemini had no intention of blending in amongst the throng. A woman of her talents demanded a certain level of luxury! So she'd oozed into one of the stone city's mansions and killed the owner as he slept, using his appearance to question his servants and learn more about the world she'd appeared in.
A few days spent at court and she soon realised there was someone much better she could be. Someone with more power, wealthier by far and an appearance she wouldn't mind wearing over her current chunky unattractive male form.
She felt like she was going to quite enjoy being Queen Arwen Evenstar. For now though she as Lord Haldon strode unhurriedly in the darkening evening back towards his mansion in the sixth circle from his attendance at council, trying not to make an expression of disgust as her boot shaped feet squished in a pile of horse droppings.