#Aragorn Son of Arathorn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewulf · 2 days

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Together || Aragorn

Summary: Request - So I'd also thought of something with Aragorn where the reader is also an ranger and the group meets her someday on their journey to Mordor as she takes him down unexpectedly as she thinks they're enemies, so she lands on top of him with a sword on his neck and in that moment he falls for her immediately... Read Rest Here

A/N: Okay had a blast writing this one. Happy birthday anon, hope you enjoy it :)

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k +

TW: Violence, orc violence, poison, death, blood, crying, angst, lotr warnings

Under the canopy of ancient oaks, the dense forest of Eriador hums with the life of creatures both small and menacing. Among them you move silently, cloaked in the hues of earth and leaf. As a ranger of great skill your keen eyes scan the underbrush for signs of your quarry. For days you have been on the trail of a band of orcs. Their clumsy passage through the woods an affront to the quiet sanctity of nature. With every soft step your hand rests near the hilt of your sword. Your long-time trusted companion in the ever-lonely wilds.

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows through the trees, your pursuit leads you to a clearing where the tracks are fresher. Much more hurried. Crouched behind a bush your eyes narrow upon the sight of figures crossing the distance. It was a mixed company, not of orcs, but of men, an elf, a dwarf, and others you cannot readily identify from your hidden vantage.

Driven by a mix of caution and curiosity you watch them, your mind racing with possibilities. Could these travelers be allied with your foes? Perhaps orchestrating the movements of the orcs for darker purposes? The presence of such diverse races together is unusual, but in these troubled times alliances are formed in desperation.

Deciding that the risk of letting potential enemies pass is too great you prepare an ambush. As the group nears you leap from your cover, swift as a shadow at dusk. Your target was the tall, commanding man at the forefront. Before he could react you tackled him to the ground with your sword at his throat. The shock in his eyes mirrors your own fierce determination. You’d managed to take the entire group by surprise.

"Who are you and why do you travel with such company through these woods?" you demand. Your voice a low whisper against the rustling leaves.

Before the man can reply, a powerful voice booms from behind you, "Peace, Y/N! Lower your weapon. These are friends, not foes!" Your eyes crinkle in confusion with your name that you kept so well hidden spoken so freely.

You turn slightly with your blade still pressed to the man’s throat to see an elderly man with a staff. He was dressed in a long grey cloak. His eyes twinkle with a mix of amusement and stern rebuke. He extends a hand in peace, "Forgive the suddenness of our meeting. I am Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey. You have nothing to fear from us my dear child."

"How do you know my name?" you snap as the tension raised in your voice. Few knew of your existence as you preferred the solitude of the forest to the company of towns and taverns.

"It is my business to know much that goes on in this world. Especially when it concerns those who could alter its course," Gandalf answers with a calm that seems to weave peace through the air itself leaving you rather confused by his words. Wizards, you could never understand them with their riddles.

With a frown you turn back to disheveled man sneering at him, “Tell your elf to lower his bow and then we can talk.” You pressed the blade into his neck further careful not to draw blood but to show you meant business at the same time.

The man nodded, “Legolas, please.”

The elf in the group with his bow still pointed in your direction now lowers it and steps forward. “We mean no harm to you or your lands. We seek only passage and perhaps some aid. This quest carries great weight." The elf called Legolas spoke right to you.

His words seemed sincere. They carry a sense of shared purpose. While you're still on edge the immediate threat of the group seems to wane. You slowly stand, sheathing your sword with reluctance. The man you had pinned—Aragorn, as Gandalf introduced him—rises, brushing off his cloak, his gaze never leaving yours. A mix of embarrassment and admiration passes between you.

Gandalf steps forward trying to smooth over the tension. "Aragorn leads us on a quest of great importance," he explains. "And from what I see your skills could aid us greatly. What say you, Y/N? Will you join the Fellowship and lend us your strength?"

You hesitate as your duty to your own lands weighing heavily on you. "I cannot abandon my watch. The darkness grows and my lands need protecting."

Aragorn steps forward. His expression earnest. "I understand your duty for I too am sworn to protect the lands of men in the north. But this quest... if we succeed, all lands will be safer, including yours. We need your strength and skill. I ask you not for my sake but for all our sakes."

Looking from Aragorn to Gandalf and Legolas, you're torn. The sincerity in Aragorn's eyes is compelling and there's a resolve there that speaks of his immediate respect and admiration for you. After a long pause, you nod slowly. "For the greater good, then. I will join you. But we must ensure my lands are safeguarded in my absence." It was no easy choice but even you knew you could hardly handle the orcs now… if it got worse there would be no land for you to protect.

"Agreed," Aragorn replies with a smile, a small, knowing curve of his lips. "Together we will protect all our homes. Walk with me and I will explain this further.” And so, you did.

As you walked alongside Aragorn away from the ears of the others except maybe Legolas, his voice takes on a solemn tone. He speaks of a great burden and a journey that began long ago in the quiet shire of the Hobbits.

“A darkness grows in the East under the shadow of Mordor, where the Dark Lord Sauron forges his malice into a single form,” Aragorn begins. “A ring, one of power and despair, lost for ages has resurfaced. It was found by the most unlikely of creatures—a Hobbit named Bilbo Baggins.”

He tells you how the wizard Gandalf uncovered the truth of this simple golden band. It is the One Ring, through which Sauron can conquer all of middle earth. But it is also his one point of vulnerability.

“The Ring must be destroyed,” Aragorn continues, “and that can only be done in the fires of Mount Doom where it was forged.” His gaze meets yours, impressing upon you the gravity of their task. “A Fellowship has been formed. A company sworn to protect Frodo on this perilous path. For without the Ring’s destruction… darkness will consume our lands, leaving no corner of the world untouched by its ruin.”

He pauses allowing the weight of his words to sink in. “This is our quest to see the end of the Ring and the fall of Sauron. And now you are part of this story, part of our hope. For alone we cannot stand, but together we might prevail.”

The immensity of Aragorn's tale seems to echo through the silence around you. As the responsibility and peril of what lies ahead sinks into your heart. "This is... more than I expected," you confess. Your voice betraying a mix of awe and trepidation. Shadows have been a common adversary in your solitary ranger life but the thought of a single ring holding the fate of all life in middle earth is overwhelming in the worst way.

Aragorn watches you with eyes that have seen the weight of the world but still hold a glimmer of hope. "It is a lot to take in," he acknowledges with his voice a steady presence amidst your inner turmoil. "But remember every meaningful journey begins with a single step. We do not choose the times we live in only how we meet them."

His words meant to comfort kindle a spark of resolve within you. "Then we walk this path together," you say finding strength in his unwavering resolve. "I've fought to keep darkness at bay from my corner of the world. Now it seems I shall extend my watch over the wider lands of middle earth."

Aragorn's eyes soften and a smile plays at the corner of his mouth, a rare break from his stoic mask. "With your help I believe we stand a chance. Let us go forward with hope in our hearts and a steadfast will," he says with a firm belief underpinning his words.

As you start to walk back towards the Fellowship Aragorn's tone lightens once more and he casts you a mischievous glance. "And I must say, for someone so adept at navigating these wild lands your skill at catching us unaware is remarkable," he jests. A playful note in his voice. "Even the elf’s keen eyes did not see you coming, which, I assure you, will be a source of friendly jest for many years to come."

The tension that held you moments before unravels into laughter. The absurdity of the situation finally coming forward. "I'll remember to tread lightly next time—or perhaps not," you respond with a chuckle.

From a distance, Legolas, whose elven senses miss little, looks up from his conversation with Gimli. He casts a mockingly indignant glance toward Aragorn. His eyes speaking silent volumes of an 'I heard that.' His feigned glare dissolves into a smile. Acknowledging the jest with the grace and good humor characteristic of the Woodland Prince.

The shared laughter and Legolas' playful acknowledgment bridge the space between you helped to weave the Fellowship closer together in mutual affection. It's a light-hearted interlude, reminding you all that despite the daunting path ahead you are surrounded by companions who will share the burden with unwavering support and moments of joy.

As you all move forward the sun dips below the horizon and the journey of the Fellowship grows richer by one more warrior. In the fading light Aragorn walks beside you, your strides matched. It was a simple silent acknowledgment of the bond beginning to form. Blossoming from the unexpected encounter that could very well shape the fate of all.

The Fellowship continues its perilous journey through Middle earth. The days meld into each other each bringing its own set of challenges and trials. You find your place among these diverse companions. Your skills as a ranger becoming invaluable as you navigate the treacherous terrain. Whether it's finding safe passages through impassable woods or tracking the movements of distant enemies your expertise does not go unnoticed.

Legolas often joins you on scouting missions. His feather light footfalls barely stirring the leaves. Gimli, the dwarf, though gruff, begins sharing tales of the deep mines of Moria with a relish that only grows with your attentive silence. Even Merry and Pippin find ways to lighten your load, often bringing you sweet, wild berries they gather along the way. Aragorn watches all of this with a thoughtful expression often playing across his face. In dangerous moments when shadowy figures loom and the threat of orcs feels ever-present, he stays close. His protectiveness is subtle, a guiding hand at your back, a cautious glance that lingers just a moment too long. You notice the unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day.

As the journey presses onward Aragorn finds himself increasingly drawn to your strength and resilience. He respects your independence, the way you move through the forest, part of its shadow and light, yet he feels a burgeoning desire to protect you. It’s a feeling that stirs deep within him, unbidden yet persistent.

One bitterly cold night as the Fellowship encamps in a secluded glen your turn at watch finds you shivering against the chill. The fire is but a low glow as its warmth insufficient against the piercing cold. You hug your cloak tighter around your shoulders. You hear the soft approach of footsteps too heavy to be of Legolas.

Aragorn appears by your side his face etched with concern. Without a word he drapes his own, heavier cloak around your shoulders. The warmth from the cloak that was still holding the heat of his body, seeps into your chilled bones.

But you shake your head at his actions. "You'll be too cold," you protest trying to shrug off the cloak back onto him.

Aragorn shakes his head gently pushing the cloak back over your shoulders. "I'm used to the cold. I’m from the north you are not," he insists softly. "Keep it. It's more important that you stay warm."

Gratefully you wrap the cloak tighter around you as Aragorn settles beside you. "Tell me of your lands," he says quietly. His voice inviting you to share more than just the cold night air.

"My home," you begin. Your voice warming as you describe the hidden valleys and towering forests of your land, "is secluded and wild, full of ancient trees that seem to touch the sky. There are streams that sparkle with the clearest water you've ever seen and fields of flowers that bloom so vividly they look like a painter's canvas."

Aragorn listens intently. His eyes reflecting a growing fascination. "And the creatures," you continue, "are as varied as the plants. From the smallest bird to the majestic stags that roam freely… each adds to the life of the forest. It's a place where the world feels untouched, preserved from the scars of battle and time."

As you speak, Aragorn's gaze deepens as if he can see the very landscapes you describe. "It sounds beautiful," he murmurs looking straight at you as you spoke so lovingly of your home, "a land worth protecting."

Encouraged by his interest you lean into him, seeking warmth in more than just his cloak. Aragorn wraps an arm around you making sure to pull you closer. In the shelter of his embrace, the cold feels a world away. The moment feels suspended in time, your breaths mingling, hearts beating a steady rhythm.

Nestled in the safety of Aragorn's arm feels right even if it’s so foreign to you. You stay like that for the remainder of your watch with the warmth of his presence and the cloak combined keeping the night's chill at bay. When dawn paints the sky with hues of pink and gold, you, and Aragorn rise, knowing that while the journey ahead is fraught with peril, the warmth between you will carry you through the darkest times.

As the days stretch and the challenges of your journey with the Fellowship intensify the bond between you and Aragorn deepens with each shared glance and whispered word. The lightness in the air is palpable. Especially when the hobbits, Merry and Pippin, exchange amused looks or giggle softly whenever you and Aragorn share a tender moment.

One cool morning as the camp stirs awake and prepares for the day’s trek, Aragorn approaches you with a shy demeanor that you've come to cherish. In his hand is a small, intricately carved wooden figurine. “I made this for you,” he says presenting it with a modest pride. “It’s a bird from your forest.” The craftsmanship is exquisite. Somehow he captured the spirit of the wilderness you hold dear.

Moved by this thoughtful gesture you examine the figurine closely, the details meticulously rendered. "Thank you, Aragorn. It's beautiful. More beautiful than the bird itself," you say sincerely. At this, a blush creeps across Aragorn’s cheeks. It was a rare sight that makes him seem almost boyish, his usual composed exterior softened by your appreciation. Surprising both him and you, you wrap your arms around him in a quick, heartfelt hug—a rarity for you, as you've never been one to initiate physical touch save for cold nights.

This closeness that has enveloped you both is fortified not just through acts of tenderness but also through the trials that test your resolve. During a perilous trek through a narrow gorge, a sudden crumbling of the path catches Aragorn off-guard. Reacting with the swift instincts of a seasoned ranger you grab his arm and pull him back from the brink of a deadly fall. Eyes locked with a rush of shared relief and unspoken thanks passes between you. "Thank you, Y/N," he breathes out. His hand squeezed yours in a lingering, grateful touch.

This moment cements your mutual reliance and it's not long before it is tested again under more dire circumstances. As the Fellowship faces an overwhelming assault at the gates of an enemy stronghold, the chaos of battle quickly ensues. Amid the clash of steel and shadow you find yourself momentarily overwhelmed. Panic rising in your chest as an orc nearly breaches your guard. In that critical instant Aragorn is there, his presence a calming force. "Stay strong, Y/N. I am here with you," he whispers fiercely. His words cutting through the din of battle making sure to anchor you back to the moment.

Revitalized by his words you fight with renewed vigor, but the battle tests you further. As you engage a formidable orc chieftain his massive blade swings at you with lethal force. You parry, but the strength behind the attack staggers you. Before the orc can strike the final blow, Aragorn intervenes with a desperate shout deflecting the deadly arc just inches from you. Saving your life twice within a matter of a few moments apart. Together you rally, your movements fluid and fierce and with a powerful combination of strikes you bring the towering foe down.

The battle's intensity doesn’t immediately fade, but as it does Aragorn's hand finds your shoulder. His grip was firm and reassuring. His eyes alight with the fire of battle and something deeper meet yours. "With you by my side I believe there is no battle we cannot win," he declares his voice thick with emotion of the battle and nearly losing you. As you and the rest of the Fellowship take a moment to regroup and recover it’s clear that what you and Aragorn share has evolved beyond companionship to something profound. With each step forward towards the dark heart of Mordor your bond strengthens.

As the harsh landscape of Mordor stretches endlessly before you, the air thick with the stench of doom and the ground scarred by countless battles, the Fellowship readies itself for what everyone understands to be the final confrontation. Amid the chaos of preparations and sharpened swords you and Aragorn find a brief respite behind a jutting crag, a momentary shield from the surrounding turmoil.

Aragorn looks at you carefully. His eyes reflecting the storm of emotions raging inside him—hope, fear, determination. “We have come far, haven’t we?” he says softly. Almost lost in the clamor of the encampment.

“Yes, farther than I ever imagined,” you reply feeling the weight of every mile traveled and battle fought in your bones. “And through it all your presence has been my anchor.”

He takes your hand. His touch steady and sure. “And I will remain by your side,” he vows, “through whatever may come. No matter the darkness that lies ahead… we face it together.”

You nod. Your resolve fortified by his words. “Together,” you affirm, squeezing his hand, the word a silent oath between you.

As you both turn to face the battlefield the ominous shadow of Mount Doom looms in the distance. A stark reminder of the task yet unfinished. The air vibrates with the tension of imminent conflict. As the Fellowship lines up ready to engage the enemy forces, the battle begins with a deafening roar.

The clash is brutal. A maelstrom of steel and shadow as both sides pour their fury into each other. Amidst the chaos your focus narrows to the figures around you—Aragorn fighting with the grace and fury of a born leader. His blade a flash of silver in the dim light.

In the middle of it all the ground shakes violently underfoot. A tremor that sends many stumbling. A profound boom rolls across the battlefield echoing from the direction of Mount Doom. The combatants pause, uncertainty halting their movements as all eyes turn towards the source of the disturbance.

As if by a miracle a great light bursts forth from the mountain. A blinding flash that pierces the shadowed sky. The Ring, the source of so much pain and darkness, has been destroyed. You feel a surge of relief so intense it momentarily takes your breath away. Aragorn's face lights up with unrestrained joy as he turns to you, laughter bubbling up from deep within. "They did it! Sam and Frodo did it!" he shouts his laughter mingling with his words. A sound so full of relief and disbelief that it's contagious.

Around you the enemy falters, confusion and fear taking hold as the reality of their defeat sinks in. The forces of darkness begin to retreat, their will broken by the destruction of the Ring. As the battlefield quiets the dawn begins to break casting the first gentle light over a world freed from tyranny. You and Aragorn embrace each of your laughter mixing with tears of joy. The sound a vivid testament to the overwhelming relief of the moment. “We’re really here,” you giggle with utter relief, “it’s truly over!”

Rejoining the Fellowship your laughter continues, shared amongst friends who have become family. Watching the new day unfold the group shares a moment of elation. The shared laughter a release of months of tension and fear. With the shadow of the past dispelled, hope shines anew on the horizon promising a future filled with peace and renewal. Together with Aragorn at your side, you step forward into a world reborn.

As the harsh landscape of Mordor fades into the distance behind you replaced by the rolling hills and lush greenery of Gondor the Fellowship's journey reaches its conclusion in the grand city of Minas Tirith. Here, amidst the grandeur of the White City, the coronation of Aragorn, the rightful king, takes place—a moment of triumph and renewal for all of middle earth.

The first light of dawn paints the spires of Minas Tirith with a golden hue. The city awakens to a day of profound significance. The air is filled with the sounds of celebration; the streets are bustling with citizens and allies from across middle earth all gathered to witness a historic moment. Today Aragorn will be crowned King, an event that promises a new era of peace and prosperity for the realm.

Throughout the city banners flutter in the breeze, their vibrant colors a stark contrast against the white stone of the city. The coronation ceremony itself is nothing short of magnificent, held in the open air where the morning sun casts a regal glow over the assembled crowd. Aragorn stands before them, a figure of strength and hope, his voice resonant as he speaks the oaths of kingship.

After the formalities as the echoes of the last trumpet fade into the cool air, the new King Aragorn is surrounded by well-wishers and dignitaries each eager to pay their respects. But his eyes scan the crowd for only one face �� yours. With a smile that speaks of shared secrets and promises kept he excuses himself from the throng and makes his way toward you.

You meet him halfway, your heart swelling with pride and love as you look upon the man who has overcome so much to claim his rightful place. Aragorn’s expression softens when he sees you, all the weight of his new role momentarily forgotten. “There would be no joy in this day if I could not share it with you, my Y/N,” he says. His voice was low, meant for your ears alone. His hands reach out gently cradling your face. “You have been my courage when fear would take me. My light in the darkest of times. And it is my greatest hope that you will stand by my side, not just today, but always, as my queen. Together.”

Your eyes brimming with tears of joy, meet his gaze. All the noise and celebration around you fade into a hushed silence. Overwhelmed by his words your heart answers with a silent nod, affirming your shared future.

Aragorn’s eyes flicker with a mixture of tenderness and passion as he leans in. The world holds its breath as his lips finally meet yours in a kiss that is both a seal of everything past and a promise of everything to come. It is deep and passionate, conveying years of struggle, sorrow, victory, and an unbreakable bond.

As you part with his lips, breathless and flushed, the world comes rushing back. Cheers rise around you as a joyful noise that celebrates not just a king’s coronation but the love and unity that stands as the true foundation of his reign.

Hand in hand you stand by Aragorn as he faces the people of Gondor, now truly his queen in spirit and soon in title. Together you look out over the sea of faces, over a land that, at last, can dream of peace. And in this moment you know that every step, every sacrifice, has led to this perfect beginning.

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