Prompt # 64: Shadow

(stands alone, no sequel)

Wherever Hobbits roamed a feast would be called joyous. They sang songs and danced on the tables and the Rohirrim around stamped their feet and sang with them, even without knowing the lines. Aside the jolly parade of fighters, who had won their first great battle, Aragorn stood, waiting. Watching. The beer in the mug he held in his right hand was warm and stale by now, but he did not think of drinking.

He thought of the Palantir that Gandalf had brought from Isengard. He thought of the challenge that waited in the shadows. He knew he would face the Seeing Stone. Yet, thinking of what it might reveal he was no longer certain he would stand fast against the storm Sauron could unleash.

It was not fear that stalled his step when he left the hall. The knowledge of decades had made him a careful and wise man. He knew that nothing came without a price. Here it would be to allow Sauron to know about him. About his position. About the ranger who had finally left behind the anonymity of the woods to become what he was by right of ancestry. Would he be strong enough? Would he be able to face the greatest of all dark powers and be victorious to anger and confuse the enemy?

Aragorn stepped into the cool blankness of the dark night. He saw no stars and no moon for the darkness was within him. Gripping him. Holding him as if to stop his heart and keep him from a challenge that might prove too vicious to master. Then, drawing breath and shaking his head, he left songs and laughter behind him.

To face his enemy.

Word count: 293

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