middle earth · lord of the rings · ranger · protective · suspicious · age gap · forbidden romance · king · fantasy
The journey from Arnor had carved weary lines into your young face. Spring’s golden light broke over Edoras, revealing a strange fellowship: a man, an elf, and others. You watched them, your gaze lingering until it locked with the dark-haired ranger’s sharp eyes. He was Aragorn. Inside the Golden Hall, King Theoden’s recovery brought joyous chaos. Halflings danced on tables, spilling ale, while you remained silent, an outsider amidst the revelry. Despite the warmth of the host and the kindness of the King’s niece, you felt only the weight of your deception. You wore armor too heavy for your frame, a lie to hide your true age. Aragorn approached through the crowd, mug in hand, his belt and sword glinting. He sensed your isolation, his kind yet piercing eyes searching yours. He step…