Starting Anew

Aragorn, Son of Arathorn

When it came to the retelling of the events in Gundabad, the twins were both factual and sensitive to detail in their account. Finishing with Beringil's dying words and the burial of the four rangers alongside the elven queen, Elrohir at last sat back and let silence fall.

Strider pushed back his chair and placed his hands upon his knees. Exhaling a long breath, his clear blue eyes traveled from Elladan to Elrohir to Legolas.

"I owe you all my deepest thanks for what you have done in service to the Dunedain. You especially, Legolas."

Legolas was about to protest when Strider held up a hand to forestall him.

"You came to this place a stranger not six months ago, and owed us no such feat as to enter Mount Gundabad. It grieves me to know what it must have meant to you to venture into the very place where your own mother died. I am glad to know though that you were able to lay her to rest at last, and can think of no better place for our own fallen than at her side." Looking to Elladan, Strider cleared his throat. "It seems that you have earned my honesty, as I am sure the sons of Lord Elrond would agree."

Elladan nodded. "Beringil told him what he could, but I think we are all tired of calling you 'Strider', gwador-nin."

"Agreed". Elrohir added his voice to the consensus.

"Very well then." The young chieftain brushed back his uncombed hair from his temples, and then smiled at Legolas. "Allow me to properly introduce myself to you, Legolas Thranduilion. To those beyond this village I am called 'Strider', and to the folk of Rivendell I am known as 'Estel', or 'Hope' in the Sindarin tongue. It was a name my mother Gilraen gave to me as a child, to protect me from both danger and fate until I came of age. My true name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn of the line of Isildur."

The last five words Legolas was already expecting. His gaze flickered to the ring upon Aragorn's hand, which he could now observe up close. Twin serpents with emerald eyes twined beneath a golden crown adorned the ring of Barahir. Truly, the man who sat before him was a scion of the line of Numenorian royalty. This was the heir to a throne which even now sat empty in Gondor awaiting the return of the kings of old.

"Well met, Aragorn son of Arathorn." Legolas spoke slowly, almost ceremoniously. This was a defining moment in both of their journeys, he could feel it. "You have honored me with your trust."

"I wish also to honor you with my friendship, Legolas, and hope that you would do the same." Aragorn stood, extending a hand to the elven prince. Rising, Legolas took the offered hand and clasped it.

"Gladly, mellon-nin."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a glance with one another. They were the sons of one blessed with the gift of Foresight, and although they did not possess it in full measure they could occasionally see glimpses. They could not say with any certainty what would come of this newfound friendship between man and elf, but both knew beyond doubt that whatever it was would be great.

Sometime later when Legolas stepped back out into the warmth of a summer evening, he set his course on certain feet. The knife that still hung at his belt had become a familiar presence, but the time had come to see it safely home. Rounding the corner past the main hall, he sought out the cottage of another whom he had come to consider a friend.

Nerwen was working behind the house when Legolas found her, cutting strips of venison to dry for preserving. Her back was to him as he approached, but she heard even his soft footfalls and raised her head.

"We were beginning to wonder if you had gotten lost in the mountains, elf." Said Nerwen wryly as she turned and set down her carver's knife. Her green kirtle was already stretching noticeably across her stomach, and she gave a half-smile when Legolas's couldn't keep his eyes from meandering to the bump. "It seems Radanir will have someone to give that knife of his to after all."

Legolas's eyes twinkled as he reached for his belt. "Which is precisely why I am here. Congratulations Nerwen, may the Valar bring you a strong and lively child."

"Not too lively, else I may not be able to keep up with it!" Radanir laughed as he came out from the house. His false leg seemed to be hindering his steps very little though, so they could all laugh freely at that remark.

"Congratulations to you as well Radanir. You will both make fine parents, of that I am sure." Unbuckling the knife and its sheath, Legolas passed the heirloom back to its rightful owner. "I owe you thanks for your loaning me this, but perhaps not so much as Andris does!"

Radanir accepted the knife back, its lean form settling into his hands like an old friend. Raising an eyebrow, he beckoned Legolas inside. "Come and tell us all about it then! Another tale to add to the collection no doubt?"

"No doubt indeed, but perhaps it is best told tomorrow." Legolas shook his head and politely declined. "The sun sets, and I do not wish to keep you both up late into the night. Especially when you likely need your rest while you can get it..." He once again indulged in a quick look at Nerwen's slightly rounded belly.

Nerwen had her revenge for being made into an excuse though. With a sage nod, she spoke with barely contained teasing. "Aye, no doubt you will be wishing to bid goodnight to Gelwin before you return to Strider's lodgings. The lass has missed you something fierce."

"Ah..."

At a loss for words, Legolas could only endure the laughter from both Nerwen and Radanir. He had faced death and darkness in the halls of Mount Gundabad, he supposed a little heckling from the Dunedain was far from unendurable.

oOo