The Lord of the Rings x Reader Inserts

tell me your story | aragorn

REVISED on July 30, 2022. Expanded from 8.3K to 8.8K.

a/n: This little story is based on an imagine from imaginexhobbit.tumblr.com, which reads, "Imagine telling your favorite character all about the stuff you've been through and them surprising you by weeping.

summary: The reader is a ranger who has known Aragorn for several years. One evening, after a particularly difficult month of perilous traveling, Aragorn asks her about her past that she kept carefully guarded. Her response nearly breaks his heart.

warnings: mentions of child abuse, parent death, illness

word count: 8.8K (wow that's long sorry guys)

music: "The Complete Elvish Themes & Songs" (only 00:00 - 22:31) compiled by Rey Brujo on Youtube.

The cold air nipped at your skin as you unshielded your face from the hood of your cloak. With a glance at your surroundings and a glimpse upwards to the darkening sky, you decided it was time to bunker down until morning. The bitter cold of night would settle in quickly enough.

"This should be a good place to rest for the night. The snow isn't nearly as deep here as it is up on the mountains," You called behind you as you heard your fellow ranger's boots crunch in the snow. The tip of your pointed finger gestured to the mountains that lay in the distance towards the North. "Maybe a few degrees warmer as well."

You quickly unburdened yourself and set your pack and knapsack down in a small clearing in the forest. Although the trees were farther apart in this area, their branches stretched outward and entwined together so that it was heavily shaded. The snow was only a few inches deep here compared to two-foot depth on the mountain passes.

"Hot air rises, (Y/n). We would be closer to the sun in the mountains." Was his chortling reply; however, his actions showed he complied with your idea. He dropped his things and began taking his bulkier layers off. As he removed his hood, he revealed a smirk that told you of his jesting. You couldn't help but return the expression, even if his laughter was at your expense.

"Yes, I know that, Strider. But we won't be pelted by the freezing wind in the forest. At least we're sheltered here. The air is still." You replied, slightly annoyed, but finding humor in his comment nonetheless.

"I cannot argue that." His charming, crooked teeth peeked out for a moment in a smile. They vanished as he turned to unravel his knapsack.

You shook your head with a smile and turned your attention to your own things, taking out your wool blanket and thicker socks. It would be a long, chilled night if you didn't bundle up—especially if your toes were cold. You could warm up every other limb of your body, but if ever a nipped chill touched your toes, you could never get warm. You set aside the socks gingerly, eager to slip off your damp boots and darn some fresh, warm cloth.

You set up a quaint little sleeping area for yourself while Strider did the same for himself. Your gear might not have been the most elegant or well-kept in Middle-Earth, but it was durable and kept you warm. There might have been patches in your stockings, stitched up frays in your undergarments, and dents in the leathered guards on your wrists—but they were yours.

Ownership was something seldom retained in the life of a vagabond, and you relished in every bit of it you could manage. You had fashioned and mended a majority of it yourself from the hide and fur of beasts you had felled for meals over the last several months. It made excellent insulation for cloaks and bedding in harsh winters such as these.