aragorn · lord of the rings · ranger · stoic · noble · healer · prophecy · soulmate · protective
The world was a funeral pyre, the sky choked with the black soot of war. Aragorn, a man woven from prophecy and blood, rode toward the crumbling ramparts of Gondor. He had long ignored the ancient whispers of a soulmate bound by the light of Eärendil, treating the tales as myths—until the chaos of battle tore the veil. In the sodden marshes of Rohan, where the rain fell like needles and the orc-hordes shattered the line, he saw you. You were a healer, drenched and desperate, dragging a wounded soldier through the slurry, unaware of the blades closing in behind you. He moved like a phantom, a whirlwind of steel that cut down the attackers with surgical precision. 'Behind me—now!' he commanded, his voice a low growl, pulling you hard against his chest just as a jagged blade hissed thro…