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Tales of Life  by Aelaer

I decided to give a shot and write on a character that I have written very little about. I look at her as more difficult to write, considering her age and wisdom, and it was a fun exercise.


Prompt 37: Forest
Ficlet: The Lady of the Wood
Rating: G
Lórien, Summer 2980 TA

It was his first day in Caras Galadhon, and already Aragorn felt more rested than he had in a long time. A handmaiden had led him to a small, private talan after his brief meeting with the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien. There he had already found a bath drawn for him, and he was glad; his weariness was great and he was unsure if he would have been able to reach the public bathing area. He had quickly scrubbed off the layers of dirt that had accumulated over the long months, and after pulling on a plain, yet fresh tunic and pants, had crawled into bed.

He was not sure how much time had passed when he first woke, but he saw that day had turned into night during his rest. Before he was fully awake there was a knock on his door.

Aragorn pulled himself out of bed and opened the door to none other than Lady Galadriel. “My lady,” he said with a hurried bow. He then realized his rather bedraggled state, and as he imagined how he looked in the night shirt and pants, began to apologize.

“There is nothing to apologize for,” Galadriel said with a smile. “May I come in?”

“Of course, my lady,” he replied, stepping out of the way for her. “How may I be of service?”

“I need nothing from you at this time, Aragorn, son of Arathorn,” she said, glancing at a dresser in the room. Following her gaze, he found that there was a small pile of rich clothing on top of it; he was surprised he did not catch sight of it before. “I would bade you, however, to wear the clothing I have provided you when you next leave this talan.”

“My lady?” he could not help but ask as he fingered the material. “I am unused to such richness; this cloth seems more appropriate for a lord of elves.”

“No less appropriate for a lord of the Dúnedain,” she easily rebutted. “While you may have need to hide your identity elsewhere in the world, you shall be as you were meant to be in this wood.”

“I will do as you ask, my lady, though I know not the reason behind it,” Aragorn said with a bow of his head. “Would you have me wear the circlet as well?”

“Yes,” she said, and smiled a little at his unease. “You may not be used to such riches now, Dúnadan, but perhaps one day you shall.” Aragorn bowed his head again, and Galadriel gently touched his brow. “Dress, and walk through the trees of Caras Galadhon. Be at peace in this realm, and let go of all your cares for a while.” She pulled her hand back and smiled once more. “If you have need of me, you know where to find me.” Aragorn bid her farewell, and she left the talan.

Frowning slightly at the unusual situation, Aragorn did as requested and started to dress himself in the white and grey cloth. Perhaps a small walk would help him clear his mind.





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