Many had informed him so, but Aragorn would not let hope die so easily. Perhaps for now he could find no way out of this place, but he would keep his ears and eyes open, and if any opportunity presented itself, he would know it.

The question did not bother him, and he shook his head slightly to indicate as much. This city was untouched by Shadow and there was some part of it that appealed to him, but it was not his home. Too much lingered in the balance back in Middle-Earth, too much that he needed to return for. Not only for the friends and loved ones that he missed, but for the future of his people.

"I came from a war," he told Reese. He did not know why he trusted this man at a glance, but trust seemed less dangerous in this city than home, and Aragorn was a good judge of character. "I would not wish to abandon my people; there was still much to do."

Even had they won the war, even if Frodo had managed to complete his quest, there were still cities to rebuild, a new world to shape. That was his destiny, and though he had fought it for many years, it was strange to be separated from it now, having finally accepted his path.