Post by Admin on Jan 6, 2021 18:41:02 GMT
Author: Karri Neves
Summary: Gilraen has an encounter with Aragorn the mighty ranger.
Rating: G
Aragorn stepped forth from his place of concealment and brought his sword up, ready to strike, determination on his expression.
“Begone, evil fiend! I am Aragorn the Mighty!” declared the young ranger. “Cast down thy sword and flee, else I slay thee!” Darting forward, Aragorn struck a quick blow and stepped back. “Eager for a fight, eh?” he asked, as his opponent stood his ground. “Fear not, foul beast! I am happy to give thee what thou desire!”
Gathering his courage, he rushed forward to strike another, more vicious blow. He stopped short of his target, however, when a soft sound from behind him reached his ears. In a flash, he dropped his sword hand and spun on his heels, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.
“Just playing, mother,” he mumbled, chagrined at having been caught battling a mural.
Kneeling, Gilraen opened her arms to her son, and smiled as he accepted the offer and hurried into her embrace. “Love, you’ve no need for embarrassment. You are hardly to first child to battle against yon mural,” she consoled. Memories of a man’s tales of his own childhood battles before the mural played in her mind’s eyes as she gazed down into the small face that bore so increasingly a resemblance to his father that it tore at her heart. “Nor should you be ashamed to be caught at play. Indeed, stay young and play as long as you can. You’re destiny will find you soon enough. There is no need to rush it.”
Ordinarily, Estel would have scoffed at his mother reminding him, yet again, not to be in too big a hurry to grow up. Peering up into her eyes, however, he saw such deep sorrow and fear that he merely hugged her tighter.
“Quest’s are more fulfilling than battle, though” Gilraen remarked, realizing she’d shared more of her grief than she’d intended and not wanting her son’s heart yet burdened thusly. “Really, I jest not!” she continued as Estel frowned up at her.
Skeptical, Estel loosed himself from his mother’s embrace and, folding his arms, sat before her with an expression that demanded she explain.
“There is, I have heard rumor, a great treasure of pastry fresh from the oven in need of a valiant young warrior to free them from their plate,” she announced. “Unless, of course, you think the quest beneath you.”
“Valuable treasure, indeed! I think it a quest well worthy of my effort,” agreed Estel, warming to his mother’s game. “Will you join me in this heroic quest, my valiant queen?”
“Xë, a valiant queen?” Gilraen queried, smiling, though her eyes remained pensive.
“You are my valiant queen,” Aragorn whispered, before jumping up and dashing toward the kitchen.
“Zounds,” Gilraen whispered, wiping away tears as rose to follow.
The end.
A/N: -xë is a reflective suffix in Quenyan meaning itself, herself, myself, etc. It’s a bit of a stretch using it as I did, I realize, but X doesn’t really exist in Tolkien’s world, so I was a bit desperate.
Summary: Gilraen has an encounter with Aragorn the mighty ranger.
Rating: G
Aragorn stepped forth from his place of concealment and brought his sword up, ready to strike, determination on his expression.
“Begone, evil fiend! I am Aragorn the Mighty!” declared the young ranger. “Cast down thy sword and flee, else I slay thee!” Darting forward, Aragorn struck a quick blow and stepped back. “Eager for a fight, eh?” he asked, as his opponent stood his ground. “Fear not, foul beast! I am happy to give thee what thou desire!”
Gathering his courage, he rushed forward to strike another, more vicious blow. He stopped short of his target, however, when a soft sound from behind him reached his ears. In a flash, he dropped his sword hand and spun on his heels, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.
“Just playing, mother,” he mumbled, chagrined at having been caught battling a mural.
Kneeling, Gilraen opened her arms to her son, and smiled as he accepted the offer and hurried into her embrace. “Love, you’ve no need for embarrassment. You are hardly to first child to battle against yon mural,” she consoled. Memories of a man’s tales of his own childhood battles before the mural played in her mind’s eyes as she gazed down into the small face that bore so increasingly a resemblance to his father that it tore at her heart. “Nor should you be ashamed to be caught at play. Indeed, stay young and play as long as you can. You’re destiny will find you soon enough. There is no need to rush it.”
Ordinarily, Estel would have scoffed at his mother reminding him, yet again, not to be in too big a hurry to grow up. Peering up into her eyes, however, he saw such deep sorrow and fear that he merely hugged her tighter.
“Quest’s are more fulfilling than battle, though” Gilraen remarked, realizing she’d shared more of her grief than she’d intended and not wanting her son’s heart yet burdened thusly. “Really, I jest not!” she continued as Estel frowned up at her.
Skeptical, Estel loosed himself from his mother’s embrace and, folding his arms, sat before her with an expression that demanded she explain.
“There is, I have heard rumor, a great treasure of pastry fresh from the oven in need of a valiant young warrior to free them from their plate,” she announced. “Unless, of course, you think the quest beneath you.”
“Valuable treasure, indeed! I think it a quest well worthy of my effort,” agreed Estel, warming to his mother’s game. “Will you join me in this heroic quest, my valiant queen?”
“Xë, a valiant queen?” Gilraen queried, smiling, though her eyes remained pensive.
“You are my valiant queen,” Aragorn whispered, before jumping up and dashing toward the kitchen.
“Zounds,” Gilraen whispered, wiping away tears as rose to follow.
The end.
A/N: -xë is a reflective suffix in Quenyan meaning itself, herself, myself, etc. It’s a bit of a stretch using it as I did, I realize, but X doesn’t really exist in Tolkien’s world, so I was a bit desperate.