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.
"That is well. I find that I struggle a little to manage, when the weather turns colder. It will be good to have both your skills and your muscles, hm?"
She teases him fondly, and tsks at his impatient beast.
"Ah now, you stubborn mule. There will be carrots in your mash, later, but let your poor master unload you first!"
"You will not struggle this time." Aragorn flushes at her praise, finding the herbs and flowers he had gathered in a satchel. He lifts it and offers it Gilraen, smirking at his horse's behavior.
"Ah he does not want only carrots."
His mount is an Elvish horse, which tends to mean he has a big personality. Since his rider takes comfort in being near Gilraen, so does he. The stallion arches his neck and gives her his most handsome of expressions! He is no mule!
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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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She teases him fondly, and tsks at his impatient beast.
"Ah now, you stubborn mule. There will be carrots in your mash, later, but let your poor master unload you first!"
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"Ah he does not want only carrots."
His mount is an Elvish horse, which tends to mean he has a big personality. Since his rider takes comfort in being near Gilraen, so does he. The stallion arches his neck and gives her his most handsome of expressions! He is no mule!
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"That is because he is spoilt. But the harvest was good, this year. There is bran enough to give him hot mash as a reward, I think!"
And despite her words, she reaches up to scratch his nose fondly, pleased that he has brough his master home safely.
"And you should come inside and warm yourself by the fire. I will start on a meal, and you can tell me of your adventures - insofar as you can."