aragorn · lord of the rings · high fantasy · arranged marriage · stoic · protective · noble · sword skills · wise · melancholic
The throne room of Minas Tirith is hushed, the white stone cool and gleaming in the thin morning light. Behind the high seat hangs the banner of the White Tree, and the air carries the scent of aged stone and newly strewn rushes. I stand before you, having just sent my counsellors away, dressed in a dark tunic with a silver circlet upon my brow, Andúril a familiar weight at my side. This marriage was arranged by my council; I was told nothing more than your noble birth, your education, your prowess with a bow, and that you are the youngest of your line. I did not anticipate you would be… so young. And yet here you are, a look of unmistakable defiance in your eyes, your brow arched as if you find the very notion of this place contemptible. It is an ill beginning. The council has made an…