Aragorn was above all else, weary. He had fought many battles at the very border of Mordor and many days had he traveled with little to eat and even less sleep. Standing at the border of the forest of Lothlorien, its stillness and peace beckoned him in. He slowly entered.
He walked silently through the forest, scarcely audible. He was, however, heard. Two elves in their flet had watched him enter, and were watching him as he drew nearer and nearer toward the tree in which they rested.
They were aware he was not a foe his elven sword and clothing were proof enough of that, but assurance had further been provided earlier in the morn when a message came from the Lady Galadriel that on this day a man would pass through the borders and be a guest of the lord and lady.
Not knowing this, the Ranger walked on and on, till he stood almost directly beath the mallorn tree the elves were perched in. He paused by the tree for a moment. Then looking up, he called out in the elven tongue, "I know not what tree you are in, but I can feel your presence. You may reveal yourself If you wish."
First came the older elf, and then the younger from the tree they had been hidden in, both feeling a bit sheepish. Never had they seen a man with such keen senses as to be able to detect an elf who wished to remain hidden.
Curious of who this man might be, Andreth, the younger elf, observed him closely. Dark hair with an occasional grey covered his head, and a short beard his face. A pair of keen grey eyes observed the two elves closely. Though Andreth noticed these things, he also noted the man's bedraggled appearance. His clothing was worn, and in a few spots stained with blood, both of man and that of orcs, and though he carried on conversation with, Hador, the elder elf, alertly enough, his shoulders sagged with weariness.
Andreth, therefore, heard with satisfaction as Hador declared that as dusk was quickly approaching, they would rest here for the night, and journey to Caras Galadhon, the dwelling of Celeborn and Galadriel, in the morning. Scarcely had these words left the elf's mouth, then the man cast down his burdens, and bundling up his cloak as a makeshift pillow, he rested upon the green grass of Lorien.
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Love is Blooming in the Golden Woods
FanfictionAragorn is weary. He has spent many of the past years journeying to distant lands fighting the enemies of Sauron. He is 49 years old, but is more mature than many men when they reach their death. Standing at the edge of Lothlorien, he decides to en...
