Stories of Arda - Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction Archive


	About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search

At Hope's Edge by Cairistiona	14 Review(s)
Lexilooper	Reviewed Chapter: 20 on 2/3/2026
Aragorn hesitated before the doorway to his room, looking at Erestor. The Elf had found him half asleep, still sitting on the ground beneath the willow, and Aragorn was sure that he had seen the tear tracks on his face. It bothered him, being caught in a moment of weakness. SKAKDJHFGSDGH TEAR TRACKS <:( still there half asleep, I'm not sure if it's from before he fell asleep or if he was crying in his half-dreams of despair In that joyful moment, it did not matter that Aragorn had lost all hope and that his head throbbed and his body ached. It all fell away in a wave of giddy relief. His friend would recover and live to walk and run and fight and love, and that was enough. AWWW <333 <:((( living to do all those thingssssss that are so Halbarad <3 okay wait. Did I. MISS this entire chapter while reading last time???? I think I may have, somehow. Well. I will READ IT NOW <33 And now, standing before his door, a bed and fire waiting within, Aragorn felt that real sleep might actually, after all, be obtainable. He put his hand on the door handle. "Thank you," he said softly. He felt he should say more, but he was so tired he could barely string together those two words. awww YAY Erestor pulled him into an embrace. "Thank your father. I am merely the messenger." He stepped back but continued to hold Aragorn at arm’s length. "Maybe now you will allow yourself some rest?" skadhgskhdshgsdh he knows he has NOT actually found rest yet <3 the huggggg and holding him at arm's length <3 He stood for a long moment, staring at the closed door before him, awash in so many emotions that he felt paralyzed. He ran a hand over the smooth wood, looking at it as if for the very first time, and maybe he was. He ran a finger along the straight, tight grain of the wood, down to the vine-shaped iron latch, then touched the doorframe and the stone wall beside it. For reasons he could not fathom, he was still reluctant to go in. He did not understand why he felt so out of place. SKASDJHSKHGSJ STILL PARALYZED EVEN AFTER BEING PERSONALLY WALKED INSIDE AND TO HIS BEDROOM DOOR HE STILL STRUGGLES SO HARD TO GO IN He took a deep breath and opened the door. The room in which he had spent all but two years of his youth had changed little. Some of his childhood treasures – an eagle feather, a rock with a hole in it, an old journal, several books – still sat on a shelf above the fireplace. And the wooden sword he had fenced with as a young boy eager to learn the ways of fighting still leaned in a corner. He walked over and picked it up, smiling ruefully. It used to feel so large. THE THINGS HE KNOCKS OFF THE SHELF LATER awwww the wooden sword <33 He put it back, and then dropped heavily into a chair. He had to admit that part of the reason he felt out of step with the rest of the world was that he simply felt terrible. Shivery and hot at the same time, with a head that seemed to slosh every time he turned it. His eyes grated in their sockets. All things a good night’s sleep would cure, he thought sourly, if he could but gain one. SURE CAUSE EVERYONE FEELS LIKE THAT WHEN THEY HAVEN'T GOTTEN A GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP I am being sarcastic ARAGORN THOSE ARE VERY CLEAR SIGNS OF FEVER AND DEEP-SET SICKNESS AND YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE A HEALER ALSO YOU LITERALLY KNOW YOUR WOUND IS INFECTED I will attribute all this to the apathy and hopelessness of the Black Breath <3 <:( in his eyes what is the point of caring about that anyways He struggled out of his boots and let them fall to the floor, cringing as a scattering of dried mud fractured itself from the sole to litter the spotless flagstones. He eyed the ornate bed that sat against the far wall, with its elaborate carvings and fine bedding and soft pillows. There was even a silk nightshirt and breeches laid neatly on top of the linen counterpane. How long had it been since he had returned home to stay any longer than a brief visit to report to Lord Elrond? Fifteen years? No, more like twenty, he realized. Nearly twenty years ago, after he had returned from Lórien. After he and Arwen had broken Elrond’s decree that they not plight their troth. Twenty years now its shadow had quietly fallen on his relationship with Elrond. And in all those years, not once had he slept in his room, wearing silk nightclothes and stretching out between cool sheets or under warm blankets. Instead, he only allowed himself to snatch a few hours of sleep on a couch in the Hall of Fire before leaving as quickly as possible to ride or walk back into the wilds and back to his people. But now he was here, and the room seemed exactly the same as those long-ago days when life was far less complicated. The room was utterly unchanged. <:(((((((( skadhshsjfdhsd no wonder he feels unwelcome and out of place nearly twenty years I love how even though Elrond has allowed the shadow to fall and Aragorn to push himself away, has failed to properly reassure Aragorn he still loves and welcomes him, you can see his continued love in hints of the way this room is still kept dusted and clean and exactly as he left it, waiting for his son to return <:(((( <3 skashskg Aragorn skittishly sleeping a few hours on a COUCH in the HALL before running away as fast as possible <:(( He was the one that had changed. Time and struggle had chipped at him so much that he felt he was all rough edges and – he could not help rubbing his aching arm – splintered fragments that needed smoothing. Where he used to find solace in sleeping under such fine ceilings, on something designed for both beauty and comfort, now he found himself feeling suddenly uncouth and uncultured. Somehow, though he still longed to call Rivendell home and could think of no other place on Arda he would wish to live, the manners and customs that used to be second nature in his youth now felt almost foreign. Maybe I have assumed the mantle of the Ranger a little too comfortably. skahjsgkhsdkjfghsdjk <:( I love how he wants to call this place home more than any other, his heart indeed is here with his elven family. It's not that he wants something else (I don't really want this because I love Rivendell also and want it to be a home to him), it's that he feels HE is too rough, too inadequate, too splintered for such love and beauty and comfort <:(( It is not that Rivendell can no longer be home, it is that he needs healing (Although of course I love his Ranger nature as well, and how well he stepped up to that mantle. I just. Want him to belong in all his homes.) He straightened the boots, storing them beside the hearth, and tried to pick up the chunks of dried river mud. Despite his care, some of them crumbled and left dust behind that would need to be swept up. He sighed and tossed what he could into the fireplace. He stared at the flames for a moment, wondering still why he no longer felt comfortable in his own home. <:((( trying not to make a mess I am probably just tired. Tired and too full of care. Too full of sorrow. Too full of... fear. SKADHKAJ <:( Something within him went very still as the truth sunk in. He was afraid. ASKDNGKDFH THE WAY IT PIERCES HIM WITH ITS TRUTH The horrors of the last three weeks haunted him, robbed him of hope and courage even in what should be the safe confines of Rivendell. He shut his eyes and a dark litany of images stormed across his mind: Mallor’s death, Bracken’s Ferry, Annelia, the dying children in Windydale, Halbarad... <:((((( he desperately needs healing indeed Even here, he is terrified He had not been able to save a single one of them from death or severe harm. One wraith, and a small band of orcs, and still he could not prevent utter ruin from falling on his people. What then could he hope to accomplish against the time when Sauron marched forth from his lands and brought full war upon all of Middle-earth? skadshkgs well of course you didn't save a single one of the people who DID die or get severely hurt from that what of those who were not significantly harmed, or were saved from otherwise certain death? The despair of the afternoon again wormed its cold fingers around his mind. He frowned and tried to turn his thoughts toward more practical matters. Erestor had always chided him for ever trying to eat an oliphaunt before taking the first bite. So perhaps instead of trying to save the entire world, he should simply try to solve this one thing. If he could reason out why the Nazgûl was stalking his lands, he might find some way to grapple with the fear, subdue it and put it behind him as he took this one step forward against his enemy. skahdkfa yes Erestor <3 He took a deep breath, feeling calmer already. awwwwww good jobbbbb <3 He steepled his fingers together, staring at them as he focused his thoughts. What had the Nazgûl really wanted? Was this some sort of first movement of an invasion from Mordor? If so, why had they heard nothing of such plans? Were their own lookouts and spies so ineffective? He would have to speak to Halbarad about that, when his health improved. when BOTH your healths improve, you mean also I suppose it's kind of fair he tried to get up so soon after recovering from his sickness, when for so long he pushed through it, and was walking about on his own right up till the collapse. He's trying to go right back to that pushing himself that he's used to, and his body has finally said no. They would see what could be done to strengthen their watch along the borders. How they would accomplish that, he did not know. They were already stretched too thin in what areas they had to cover most. He dared not pull anyone away from The Shire – aside from Gandalf all but ordering a heavy presence there, Aragorn knew the Shirelings were no warriors, despite their faith in their own Shirriffs and Bounders. A peaceful folk, the Hobbits, keeping to themselves and suspicious of outsiders, especially Rangers, who Aragorn knew firsthand they regarded as little better than brigands. It was hard, sometimes, being accounted a rascal when you were the one protecting the name-caller from dangers they could not begin to imagine. saskdhksfg that weariness of the undeserved mistrust <:((( But he felt no rancor. The Hobbits were... well, he was not quite sure what they were. Or what they would be in the end. He was sure, however, that Gandalf was onto something in his admiration of the small folk. awww yessssssss despite Isengard standing watch on Rohan’s northern border. lol I forget that at this point Isengard's still supposedly an ally There had to be some other reason, then, for the wraith’s presence. He rested his forehead in his hands. "Think," he whispered. "If I were a Nazgûl, what would I be looking for? What errand would I be on for Sauron?" ooooh The One Ring... ooooooh he's got the idea for a moment but it was lost, washed down to the Sea, according to reports he had heard. hmmmm The Wraiths may have once lived to find the One Ring but with it gone, their purpose was... what? hehe well to find it again It was no good. Answers eluded him and all that came to mind were images of dead children and rotting corpses. And such would be the landscape across all of Arda if he should continue this inept leadership. His hands shook as he imagined vast armies pouring forth from Mordor. Burning, killing... imprisoning the free folk of Middle-earth and bringing all that is beautiful and good and right to a horrifying end. He saw flames and darkened skies and smelt the stench of death and no valley, no mountain, no cave would be deep enough or high enough to escape it. skahsgkhsj <:((((( those nightmare images seeing them so real, not just imagining, the Black breath making them something more than they should be hands shakingggggg "this inept leadership" buddy no <:( Unless the Dúnedain prevailed. Unless somehow, he prevailed. <:((( he will But, oh Valar, he could not see it. He could not see it. The path had ended; he had either lost it or it was no more. All of Arda looks to me as though I have the power of the Valar at my disposal to make all things right... yet I cannot see the path beyond this moment. And what I see at this moment is... defeat. skahgksdhsjhsksssssss "No, not defeat," he whispered. He rubbed his scratchy eyes with the heels of his hands. "I am not defeated. Just... exhausted." Exhausted in body and spirit. Exhausted of hope. His mind shied from the thought that exhaustion was merely a kinder word for defeat. skahdgskhshssss seeing more clearly for a moment how it is exhaustion speaking then in despair wondering if that is only the same thing exhausted of hope is right <3 He shook himself. Nothing needed to be decided this night, he supposed. Not when he was so weary he could no longer think straight. good <3 He pulled off his shirt and draped it as neatly as he could manage on the back of the chair, then slipped the nightshirt on over his head, gentling his wounded arm through the sleeve. The smooth linen snagged on his rough fingers. skakgsh gentling his arm through <3 snagging on his fingerss yess and then will come the part where Elrond goes buddy you didn't even take off your leggings and put on your night-breeches XD He looked at his hands. Browned by the sun, scarred and rough and chapped from days of cold and rain and winds, they were the hands of a warrior. Certainly at times their touch had worked healing in the sick and the wounded, but they were the hands of one who wielded a sword more than herbs. They were the hands of a man whose existence seemed defined by harsh conditions and untold dangers and an endless battle against hopeless odds. skahgkahgsghsl llike Denlad he too would just be a gentle healer if he could <:( Would fate allow them ever to become the hands of a king? And will I be up to the task when that day finally comes? ssdhgkhags the hands of a healer <:( one day <333 Aragorn wished he knew a sure answer. He looked again at the bed, with its soft feather mattress and white sheets. He fingered the fine cloth, ran a hand down the elegantly carved post. Then he abruptly grabbed a pillow and threw it on the floor. Drawing his stained leather coat over him, he settled down on the hard flagstones to try to find sleep that was not riddled with nightmares. SKASUDHGKSDHS this feels so much like. A soldier. Unable to allow himself the softness of a real bed, sleeping on the floor instead because he is so used to nights on the ground. The nightmare returned. Twice Aragorn gasped himself awake, crying and trembling with the sure knowledge that all who loved him had turned against him and all hope was beyond his grasp. He sat up, rubbing his face, shivering as cool night air wafted in through the open window. SKAHDKGDSH GASPING HIMSELF AWAKE CRYING AND TREMBLING YESSSS <3 I thought perhaps here in Rivendell, under Vilya’s gentle power, the nightmares’ hold would ease. <:((( It would appear he was mistaken. If anything, they seemed worse... far more terrifying, and far harder to shake off. He rested his aching forehead on his knees for a moment, taking several measured breaths. His heart finally calmed its frantic beating. SKADJGSKH THYE'VE ONLY GOTTEN WORSE, NOT ONLY WORSE BUT FAR WORSE, FAR MORE TERRIFYING <333 that terror Halbarad has been watching in his eyes surfacing again his aching foreheaddddd buddy you have a fever remember He crawled forward on his knees to stir the fire. sksjf shaky and just crawling He dropped another log onto the coals and in a few minutes flames once more flickered cheerfully and drove the dank cold back into the far corners of the room. yesss all is still cold and dark to him he needs the fire Then he struggled to his feet and staggered to the window, unsteady still from sleep and a headache that seemed worse now than when he had first laid himself down. skahgk YEAH NO WONDER YOU'VE GOT A GROWING FEVER AND PLUS YOU'RE SLEEPING ON A STONE FLOOR The night was quiet, as it always seemed to be in Rivendell. No night-prowling predators shrieking; no furtive rustlings in the darkness to send a chill down his back. A whippoorwill chanted its song into the night, and an owl sent his query through gently rustling treetops, and above both the gentle breeze sighed among the pine trees. Those small sounds, far from disrupting the peace, only seemed to enhance it. A whippoorwilllll "an owl sent his query" skadjh I love that Far below the house, the Bruinen chuckled and sang as it danced across its stony bed, the roar of the mighty waterfalls along the cliff faces muted by the bulk of the house. Aragorn could see moonlight glinting on the water, and the call of escape he heard from it this afternoon seemed to echo again through his spirit. AKSDHGSKDH the Bruinen chuckling and singing lighthearted as always BUT AGAIN IT CALLS TO HIM TAUNTING HIM WITH AN OFFER OF ESCAPE AND PEACE AND IN ITS INNOCENT CALL HE HEARS AN OFFER MUCH DARKER <:( He pulled the window shut. good job <:((( Aragorn lay back down, pulling the coat he’d kicked off back across his body. Rubbing his aching left arm, he watched the flames until his eyelids drooped, and prayed that this time, his dreams would be peaceful. ksadhksghs except I know what happens :))) also it makes so much sense that I skipped a chapter XD I had been kind of surprised at the time jump. Turns out there wasn't one at all XD The third time the nightmare jolted him from sleep, he kicked off his coat and stood, giving up, once again, on any kind of restful slumber. He ran a hand through his hair and stretched his neck and back until they popped, then dropped back down to his knees and picked up the fireplace tongs. He gave the fire a desultory poke, then winced and dropped the poker with a noisy clang as pain suddenly bit deep into his arm. He peeled back his collar and looked down. He saw more evidence of fresh bleeding, but there was not much of it, and he did not bother to check it further. He cared about it no more than he cared if the room was cold or warm. Truth be told, at this moment he no longer cared about much of anything. He just wanted sleep. OOOOOOOOH THE ANGSTTTTTTT the beautiful angst of apathy that is extremely telling of how he feels that he doesn't even care to check his arm beyond "oh it bled a small bit", doesn't even care the temperature of the room, all he desires is the escape of a restful and dreamless sleep skajsdhgskh <:((( "desultory" is one of my new favorite words it perfectly describes his depressed apathy right now, and the poke at the fire then DROPPING the poker for the sudden pain in his armmm A soft knock on his door startled him. Father. He must have heard me. He snatched up his coat and tossed it on the chair and returned the pillow to the bed. "Come." He turned back to the fire, stirring it with more purpose this time. "I’m sorry if I woke you," he said over his shoulder. skadjskhfsjfg trying to hide the signs of his sleeping on the floor "A wizard’s sleep is not so easily disturbed," a familiar voice chuckled. "I was awake." AWWW YAY <33 Aragorn stood up and spun around so fast his head whirled. But he hid the dizziness and smiled with pure pleasure. "Gandalf! I heard you were coming but did not know you had arrived!" SKAJDGSKHKSDJFDSGDSHJFHDSJG A GENUINE SMILE????? <333333 Gandalf shook Aragorn’s offered hand. "Only just. I arrived a mere hour ago. I am glad to find you here." He stood back and looked Aragorn up and down. Aragorn could only imagine what must be going through the Grey Wizard’s mind. He was sure he looked like something dragged in by an orc. YESSSS And indeed, Gandalf’s blue eyes filled with concern. "I see my friend before me, but he is not the same hale and hearty man I saw only a few months ago. You look ill, if you don’t mind my saying." He tried to lay a hand against Aragorn’s forehead but Aragorn irritably pushed it away. SKAJGHSKJHJAG YESSSSSSSSSSS THANK YOUUUUUUU <33 filled with concern he does NOT look hale and hearty, the last months have changed much trying to feel his forehead for fever yes Aragorn stop pushing everyone away <:( "It is nothing that rest will not fix." mmmmm SURE "I think it is more than mere fatigue. I see fever in your eyes." yessss and there is something much deeper rooted as well He met Gandalf’s gaze for a moment, then he had to break away. SKADHG his inability to hold a gaze is telling. He, Aragorn, master of the quelling look, cannot look Gandalf in the eyes longer than a moment. He walked to the fireplace and held his hands out to its warmth, but it barely touched the chill in his bones. SKADGH YES IT'S STILL THERE His words, when they came, were jerky, as though he could only pull them from himself at great cost, although in truth, he suddenly wanted very badly to pour out his woes in a great torrent. "Perhaps. Mostly what you see is anger. And sorrow. It has been a hard few months. My people have suffered great losses. You no doubt know of the Nazgûl attacks?" aaaasjdsfksgh as if he could only pull them from himself at great cost <:((( BUT HE DOES WANT TO TELL HIM EVERYTHING HE REALLY DOES <:( he really still does not see how great an influence the Black Breath has over everything, over his entire outlook, it seems. He really accounts most of it to grief and his own weakness in handling the losses and woes. "Yes, word reached me over a fortnight past that evil was stirring anew in parts north. That is partly why I came." Aragorn nodded. "The same rumor reached us in Bree." His left arm started to ache fiercely. He grasped his left elbow and tried to support it as unobtrusively as possible. yessssss surreptitiously grabbing his arm "We rode hard for Bracken’s Ferry but were waylaid by the orcs a day’s ride from there. They killed my youngest man." <:((((((( His throat tightened but he went on. "That was the first in what has felt like an unbroken string of foul luck. We rode on to Bracken’s Ferry, but we were too late. We could not manage to save even one small child, the last survivor, trapped in the rubble. At every turn, we have been harassed and stymied and unable to save anything or anyone." He had to stop. Remembering and retelling brought back the anguish in almost nauseating waves. SKAJDGSKH ALMOST NAUSEATING ANGUISH "and unable to save anything or anyone" his view of the events and his own failings has just become. SO black and white. "Take your time, Aragorn," Gandalf said. awwwww he does not need to rush the story Gandalf will listen as long as it takes <3 Aragorn felt his breath hitch and he shuddered. Forgetting his aching left arm, he braced both arms on the mantel and stared into the flames, seeing burning towns and dying children and weeping. So much weeping. And his feeble hands empty of any help or comfort. SKADSJHGJSKFG the tortured memories in the flames and his feeble hands <:( not that anyone else would agree they were empty He pushed himself away and continued, his voice sounding dead even to his own ears. "We made to ride on to Windydale, but again we were attacked. We prevailed, just. Windydale lay hard on my mind, but my men... they were reaching the end of their strength and that attack had been hard, very hard. I felt I had to let them rest, recuperate." He paced across the floor to again stare into the fire. "It is a hard thing, Gandalf, to have to weigh the lives of your men against the lives of your people. I prayed I was making the right decision. Prayed that our fight had bought Windydale time." BUDDY THAT IS AN OUTRIGHT AND BLATANT AND MANY OTHER WORDS LIE DO YOU KNOW WHAT HALBARAD WOULD SAY OR ANY OF YOUR MEN even though the lie is really to keep attention from your injuries that you do not care to be cared for, that is the closest to prideful I have ever heard you sound. To proud to admit what you see as your own weakness. A heavy silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the fire. The flames found a hidden pocket of moisture and it fizzed and hissed before the wood fell apart in a shower of sparks. Aragorn kicked an ember back toward the fireplace, barely noticing the way the heat burned against his bare foot. "Foul weather moved in," he finally continued. He cleared his throat and tried to work moisture into his mouth, which felt as though he had not drunk in days. He moved to the nightstand and drained the cup of water sitting there. He poured another and swallowed it before finally continuing, "We could not ride in such a blizzard and had to wait another day. When the weather cleared, my brothers and Lord Glorfindel arrived with the news of Windydale. We were too late." skahsjgdfksfg and the sudden thirst he probably is quite dehydrated Gandalf studied him in silence for a moment, then said, "And what of you, Aragorn? I hear much about your men’s sorrows and fatigue, but any telling of your own suffering seems conspicuously absent. And I can see with my eyes that you have indeed suffered." THANK YOUUUUUUUUU you have indeed suffered <3333 Aragorn shook his head, unsure what to say. He could tell more of his clash with the Nazgûl, but what good would that do? It was something that was over and done with, and he was recovering. SKAHSFGK OH REALLY? ARE YOU NOW? AND WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU FELT ANY IMPROVEMENT? Rehashing the event would serve only to stir up the shadows until all was dark and clouded. that is a valid fear <:( if he indeed thinks it will leave if he ignores it But dare he speak of his hopelessness? His despair? skajdghk <:((((( which is VERY connected with the fight against the Nazgul, I will tell you again His first instinct always was to keep such things to himself. To not weigh down anyone else with troubles that were solely his own to work out. But still... to finally unburden himself... to drop, even for a moment, the exhausting encumbrance of his own pride.... skajddgks PLEASE, please drop your pride it does you much damage "Aragorn?" But no. The burden was his to bear. There was no wisdom that would help him. skajdhsgkh noooooooo The only answer was to merely keep putting one foot before the other, even if his spirit had lost all its vigor and his heart all its joy. He would not give in to his weakness and abandon the quest to become king, even if it cost him every last shred of hope and pulled from his grasp everything he held dear. As his mother had done before him, so he would hold no hope for himself but give all to his people, and to all the free peoples of Arda. He looked at Gandalf. "I am fine." LIES LIES FROM THE BLACK BREATH THAT IS NOT THE WAY TO OVERCOME SUCH HOPELESSNESS AND EXHAUSTION OF STRENGTH YOU WOULD NOT SUCCEED IF YOU TRIED TO CONTINUE ALONE. THAT IS NOT WHAT YOUR MOTHER DID.

Dreamdeer	Reviewed Chapter: 20 on 8/10/2009
In someone else's hands this would be the slow part of the novel. Yet if anything, Aragorn's battles now stand out as starker, bloodier, than anything you could pin down with a sword. The childhood details of his old bedroom throw his adult exhaustion into sharp contrast. And it all reads as true, down to the final, lying line. Author Reply: Thank you, Dreamdeer! Yes, after all the battles and the drama and suspense, this chapter may well have dragged the story to a halt, so I'm that you felt it didn't, and that it served it's purpose, which is to bring Aragorn finally to that place where he must be healed, physically and spiritually, or all will be lost.

Estelcontar	Reviewed Chapter: 20 on 4/20/2009
Again, you did a great job of describing Aragorn's inner struggle against his mounting despair. He should know better though, and seek Elrond's help. But no, he has even to try to deceive Gandalf. No a very wise move is it? I'm sure Gandalf will see through it though. "I'm fine" - that is the understatement of the millenium. Author Reply: Thank you, Estelcontar! I'm glad you liked how he dealt with all that despair piling up within him. He really has reached the near-breaking point, and now is not the time to try to fool anyone into thinking he's all right, is it! Thanks for the review!

Linda Hoyland	Reviewed Chapter: 20 on 4/9/2009
Poor Aragorn is his own worst enemy here.Fancy not even sleeping on the bed!THank Goodness for Gandalf.You really made me feel Aragorn's despair here. Author Reply: Thank you, Linda... I'm glad this touched on your emotions. Aragorn really is despairing here, to the point where he no longer feels worth even of sleeping in a comfortable bed. Not a good place for our Ranger to be in, at all, is it! Thank you always for your kind reviews!

Minerva Organa	Reviewed Chapter: 20 on 4/9/2009
NO, ARAGORN, YOU ARE NOT FINE. You're in Rivendell, go get the help you need...please???? =P Great chapter as always!! I loved the image of him sleeping on the floor instead of on his bed...it was a interesting mixture of humor and sadness...very Ranger-y and amusing but at the same time it's a bit saddening that he's been away from comfort for so long that even the bed seemed too strange to him. Author Reply: Thank you, Minerva! I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter. Aragorn really is in a muddle, isn't he? Definitely feeling out of step with everything, even with what should be the comforts of home. No, fine is not a word that he should associate with himself in any way, shape or form! Thanks again for all your lovely reviews!

Lily Baggins	Reviewed Chapter: 20 on 4/7/2009
I've been reading this story, but bad me, I haven't reviewed it yet. I have to tell you that I worship the ground you walk on after reading this latest chapter. If I could kneel prostrate before you in supplication, I surely would! I adore Aragorn hurt/comfort stories---am a member of the AA list---and this one is perfection. First of all, it's so, so refreshing to read such a story in which Aragorn is the mature Chieftain of his people instead of a young whippersnapper in his early 20s. I love both, but I LONG for more stories featuring Aragorn in his prime. The injuries and angst are heart-wrenching, and yet completely realistic and believable. My heart just about gave out when Aragorn failed in his attempt to rescue the wee girl from Bracken's Ferry---your writing packs such an emotional punch. And now to see him in such despair, his arm infected, suffering a fever, and trying to hide it from everyone---I'm in deep, deep bliss here! I can never get enough Aragorn and Gandalf friendship fics, especially in which Gandalf shows concern for Aragorn's health or well-being, and so I about DIED when Gandalf showed up in Rivendell. I was that happy. I'll be avidly hitting refresh on Thursday every chance I get, looking for the next chapter. :) Author Reply: Thank you, Lily! Wow, what a lovely review... I think now I'm the one in deep bliss! I'm so glad you've been reading and enjoying the story, and gladder still to finally hear from you. I too really enjoy stories of Aragorn in his prime--his years as leader of the Dunedain are really what fascinate me the most. So many untold tales there. And I also really like the friendship between Aragorn and Gandalf. I think both aspects of Aragorn's life are under-represented in fanfic and I hope to try to fill in a bit of that void. grin I'm glad you're finding the story realistic and believable... there are times when I fear I've piled too much on, but I do think the way Strider reacted when he told the Hobbits about the Nazgul in FOTR indicates that something really awful had happened to him. A man a strong as Aragorn wouldn't still have that sort of reaction if it was just a chance encounter, and yet you have to be careful not to make the encounter too intense or it would have been fatal. Hence all the other things surrounding it--the arm wound, the loss to his people, Halbarad's injury. But the losses to his people are the biggest blow, I think. Anyway, I'm really rambling here... thank you again for popping up with your review. It's always such a treat to discover what someone who's been reading all along is thinking about the story!

Raksha The Demon	Reviewed Chapter: 20 on 4/7/2009
Now, now, Aragorn; don't be such a stoic - tell Herr Doktor Gandalf what is troubling you already! Seriously, when Aragorn can't even relax in the Last Homely House, he needs some help, even if he doesn't think he needs it. Sad but good chapter. Author Reply: Thank you, Raksha... yes, things are pretty dark right now for Aragorn. "Stoic" is a good word for his attitude right now... stoic to a fault, actually, because he's not helping his own cause even a little, is he. We'll see if he'll indeed open up to Herr Doktor Gandalf! Thanks for the review!

Silivren Tinu	Reviewed Chapter: 20 on 4/7/2009
Hearing "I am fine" from Aragorn by now really makes me want to grab him and shake him hard until he finally confesses that he's anything but fine! shakes head Yay at Gandalf's appearance, though! Between Gandalf and Elrond, Aragorn won't have an easy time trying to pretend he is 'fine'. I wonder why Aragorn's condition is actually getting worse since he's in Rivendell - perhaps the part of him that's been influenced by the Nazgul is allergic against Vilya. ;-) I don't like at all that he doesn't seem to care about his own health at all anymore. I very much hope Gandalf won't believe him. It seems as if a part of Aragorn actually wants to share the burden of his dark thoughts. nudges him encouragingly I hope the next chapter starts with a loud, disbelieving snort from Gandalf. bg Loved it! :) Almut Author Reply: Thank you, Almut! You know, I think the general consensus here with this chapter is that everyone wants to give Aragorn a good shaking... and I would have to agree. You're right in that part of Aragorn really does want to share the entire burden, but the "leader" in him, that same part of his character that is usually a strength--his selfless, his looking after others' needs before his own--really is working against him here. And of course, he's feverish from the arm wound and hasn't slept (much) in ages. So there are a multitude of factors working against him and against his thinking clearly. I don't think Vilya is probably much help with all that's going on with him... although yes, like Aragorn thought, you'd think it would have some influence, but I think probably only once Elrond actually uses it. But perhaps it does still have a bit of effect--Aragorn might be dead by now if he were alone out in the Wilds. Hard to say, really, other than Aragorn's in very bad shape--it's only his incredible stamina--the same stamina that helped him run all those leagues after Merry & Pippin, and helped him ride all those miles with the Army of the Dead to Pelargir-- that's keeping him going right now. Thanks as always for the review! And yes, we'll see what Gandalf has to say about that "I'm fine" assertion! grin

BeeGee	Reviewed Chapter: 20 on 4/6/2009
You know, I love this story, I really do. But I think if Arwen were with Aragorn right now, she would give him a little swat across the head! :D I think she'd say something like.."Manwe's Breath, get over yourself, boy, don't be so stubborn!" Of course we know he is under the influence of the Black Breath, so I'm giving him leeway here. Hopefully Gandalf won't be so easily fooled, and will help! He will, yes? I know, I'll have to wait til Thursday.... Author Reply: Thank you, BeeGee! I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and yes, I think we're all about ready to give Aragorn that swat. ;) But you're right... he's not exactly in his right mind, is he? Thanks for leaving a review, and yes, next installment should come on Thursday. :)

Casso	Reviewed Chapter: 20 on 4/6/2009
Thats it! I have totally run out of patience with Aragorn. Or maybe with everyone else, from Glorfy and the twins, Halbarad, Elrond and now Gandalf. Someone needs to take charge and deal with Aragorns hopelessness. Obviously he can't deal with it himself. Can't anyone see that he is exhausted, injured, desperate and suffering from his encounter with the Nazgul? Where the hell is the great Elrond? He needs to get a move on and see to his Son. Right now. PS, Great story, you have really got me in. Author Reply: LOL! Thank you, Casso! I'm glad you're enjoying the story even if Aragorn and everyone else is about ready to drive you over the edge, from the sounds of it. Alas, Halbarad is unfortunately currently unconscious or at best semi-conscious, and Elrond is busy with said unconscious and/or semi-conscious Ranger. Glorfindel, well, he's still playing Chase-A-Wraith with Elladan and Elrohir. So that leaves Erestor, who really doesn't have excuse other than Aragorn's really good at hiding illness, and Gandalf. Obi-Gandalf, you're our only hope!!! Oops, sorry. Didn't mean to cross over... Thanks for the review!

First Page | Previous Page | Next Page | Last Page

Return to Chapter List