Flame of the West
"I name you Anduril."
Aragorn lifted up the blade before his eyes, turning it in the light to see the flashing of the fire on the blade. For all his long life it had lain, the shards of a kingdom shattered by the desire of a Ring; now it was whole, restored and renewed, strengthened with the resolve of his will.
He would carry it forth from Rivendell, where its shards had once been borne by the witness of its downfall, protecting the one whom would finally destroy that defiled, devisive gold and his kingdom would be healed at last.
- Primula
Strider and The Hobbits – A Drabble
It wasn’t long after Strider and the hobbits had left Bree when the trouble started. The Ranger was at his wits end. Gandalf was going to pay big for putting him through this torment although he wasn’t exactly sure how he could force the Wizard to make amends. Still something had to be done and for awhile Strider let his imagination run through all the possibilities. Finally he couldn’t ignore any more the chorus of hobbit voices behind him so he suddenly stopped and whirled around.
“How many times do I have to tell you that we’re not there yet!”
What Really Happened Before Aragorn Was Crown King
Gandalf in all his many years here in Middle-earth had thought he had seen everything. But what he was witnessing now totally floored him.
Actually he was on his hands and knees looking under Aragorn’s bed.
“There is no time for this foolishness!” he said sternly.
“You could tell everyone that I’ve come down with a rare disease,” Aragorn said the fear obviously in his voice.
“I most certainly will not!”
“BUT I STILL DON’T WANT TO BE KING!”
Gandalf sighed. And people wonder why a wizard’s hair and beard were white.
