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John Reese ([personal profile] primary_asset) wrote2017-12-01 10:21 am
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Not many people know it about him, but John had grown up on a farm. His adoptive mother had run one, a small plot of land in comparison to most, after his father had been killed in action and John doesn't always associate it with the happiest times of his young life, not after losing his father, but at the same time there are still good memories.

His mother had been happy, after all, as happy as he imagines she could have been, given their loss. And even as a child, that had meant the world to John, as he had often been focused on the happiness of others. That has never really changed, he's still like that, but with Carter's help over the years, he thinks he's gotten a little bit better at allowing himself some moments of happiness.

Which is why he finds himself at the stables every so often. He tends not to ride, because it's been years, but sometimes even just being in the company of the horses reminds him of his childhood, of a time when he was happier than he is now, and he thinks he's lucky to be able to experience that. After everything that's happened to him, it's certainly unexpected.

He's stroking along the flank of one horse in particular when he sees a man ride in with a beautiful horse and he wanders in their direction, admiring the animal. His mother would have known all the reasons why the horse was superior to others, but that's never been John's area of expertise. All he knows is the horse looks sleek and well fed and he offers a faint smile to the man.

"Beautiful horse," he says as he approaches. "Is he yours or are you just taking him out for a ride?"
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[personal profile] notallthose 2017-12-14 01:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Most places, Aragorn reasoned, were bigger than this. It seemed strange that a single city did not appear to be part of some greater land, but then he had no true way of knowing what lay beyond the borders. Perhaps there was a broader country out there that he could not see due to the city's boundaries.

"This city is large as cities go, but still only a city," Aragorn mused, nodding his head. It was bigger than Edoras, perhaps even larger than Minas Tirith, but he still missed the rolling countryside outside of those cities.

He did wonder what it must be like for this man, who came to such a place similar enough but without any way of getting home. This seemed nearly another world to Aragorn, and as much as he had searched for a way to leave this place, it all still seemed like something out of a dream. He suspected it would be more frustrating still to feel some familiarity yet be unable to return home.
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[personal profile] notallthose 2017-12-17 10:41 am (UTC)(link)
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.
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[personal profile] notallthose 2017-12-21 02:22 pm (UTC)(link)
He had heard as much from the people he had spoken to when he arrived. He had assumed as much, too, from the small pieces of information he had gleamed from the Lady Galadriel. She was as vague as ever, giving him as frustratingly little as Elves ever did, but still he found some small comfort in her words. She had spoken of seeing him in Gondor, which meant he lived beyond the Battle of the Morannon.

More importantly, it meant the White City still stood.

"There is one here," he said slowly, unsure of whether Galadriel would appreciate being spoken of. "She came from my world, at a time beyond that which I remember." He wished she had given him more detail, but he would have to make do with what she was willing to provide, however little. He had long grown accustomed to Elves knowing more of his fate than he himself, so it did not irk him so much as it might have.

"It is still difficult not remembering, not knowing myself the way things went." The world had been tilting on the edge of a knife, poised and ready to fall one way or another. Even with the assumption that their Quest had succeeded, that Aragorn had returned to the White City and the crown that awaited him there, his mind was hardly comforted.
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[personal profile] notallthose 2017-12-22 03:25 pm (UTC)(link)
That was a feeling that Aragorn was intimately familiar with. Whatever fate awaited him back in Middle-Earth, he could not help but worry for the friends he had left behind. He worried for those he left at the Morannon, on the threshold of the largest evil any of them had ever faced. He knew Legolas and Gimli were stronger than most, that Gandalf was the wisest man he had ever met, but he still feared for them.

More than anything he feared for Frodo and Sam, those he had sent alone into the fire of the Enemy. He could only pray that their quest was successful, that they had somehow managed to escape the Cracks of Doom without harm.

Perhaps the Lady Galadriel would tell him nothing, but he could still hope. "I, too, worry for my friends. But we must trust in their own strength, so long as we remain here."
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[personal profile] notallthose 2018-01-01 01:44 pm (UTC)(link)
It was admittedly not the response Aragorn anticipated. This man was still near a stranger to him, but he spoke with an honesty and openness that Aragorn could appreciate. Too long he had been suspicious of any newcomer, forced into cautiousness by the spread of the Shadow. It was refreshing in a way, to be in this city and know that people could perhaps simply be trusted at face value.

He didn't respond straight away, mulling the words over. There was a truth to them, he knew. For all that he believed his friends would live on without him if need be, he knew his place in the world, how his piece was necessary.

Nine had been chosen, each with a part to play. He had known that since the first day they set out. Theirs was not a quest that would succeed or fail on the courage of one hobbit, though Aragorn knew Frodo would still have the largest part to play. He nodded in agreement, wishing not for the first time that he knew more of what was to unfold back home. "It is hard," he agreed. "You came from something important," he guessed. It was not a question, and though he did not mean to be presumptuous, he thought he could safely assume as much.