ni leithiad

[onen_i_estel]

WHO: Aragorn
WHERE: Fountain, wandering the settlement, inn
WHEN: June 17th and 18th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None really, will update

---

[ Fountain - Owen ]

Losto.

It was the last thing Aragorn remembers her saying before drifting into peaceful slumber. The day had been a long one. The festivities commenced shortly after his coronation led into the early morning hours and it was a party Aragorn wished to remain to the end of; to spend that time among his those he cared for and respected. Yet it is also a time that he quietly reflects on everything that has happened in the six months since Frodo left the Shire with the One Ring.

It was all over now.

With the Ring now destroyed and Middle-earth at peace from the evil Sauron, it was time to rebuild, grow and become stronger again. Yes, it would take time, Aragorn knew and there would be times when the past would come back and the faces of those they lost would remind them of the sacrifices that had been made to help get them to where they were now.

But then that sense of calm and rest suddenly shifts and the darkness beneath Aragorn's lids fades into a wicked blackness. His head and stomach twist and turn and a weight presses into his chest making it impossible to breathe or even move. He felt like he was drowning.

Echuio.

Grey eyes flash open and limbs begin kicking until Aragorn breaches the surface and tries to make sense of the whirlwind of things that are simple not right. The odd weight on his back, the feeling of restraints under his arms and over his shoulders. The lightness of his clothes.. the whiteness of them.

Gasping, the Ranger clings to the edge of the fountain, pushing away the dark hair that stuck to his face and in front of his eyes before moving to climb out. And when the water is rubbed out of his eyes and he can finally see Aragorn notices that nothing about these surroundings looks familiar.

[Translation: "sleep" and "wake up" ]

[ Wandering 6I - OTA ]

Even after a day, Aragorn had trouble grasping this new situation; the world, one that bore some similarities to his but one which was largely different, in a way that is immensely uncomfortable. No one would suspect it beyond the slightly troubled expression of someone that was new.

The Ranger turned King walked slowly through the dirt streets of the settlement and stops occasionally to study the houses or other buildings. He can guess their purpose, for the most part, but the other ones are a little harder to distinguish. Until he sees a few people going into the inn.

So he follows.

Comments

Fountain

[underpinnings]

On a bad day, restless and underslept, welts raised around the bite where he'd been scratching at it, Owen might take the long way around the village to get north of it without meeting anyone. There are surprisingly fewer of those nights after showing it to Mark--it wasn't a solution, but at least he knew someone knew.

There are also supplies to check over; not his, and not his job, but he likes to take stock of the state everything's in, especially with more people taking the camping supplies out to the fields. In the long days of summer, if a tent needs to be washed out in the river, if fishing line needs untangled--both are simple enough tasks to pass the time.

Kero follows, as ever. Owen has gotten used to the sound of his leathery feet on the dirt, the press of his ugly snout under his hand. It's the creature who approaches first, with friendly intent, as the man breaks the surface and crawls out of the fountain. Owen trails behind, checking the knife on his belt. Not drawing it, but knowing where it sits below his waist: he doesn't trust much of the village itself, especially those espousing their odd dietary needs over public channels--and he has no reason to trust a stranger thrust into a strange situation.

And thrust into the company of something that looks like Kero, friendly as he is.

"Kero down," he says, voice not raised, tone hard and flat. The creature doesn't have discernible ears to flatten, but his tail drops and he lowers on a step back. Owen watches still for a reaction--how a man responds to a creature standing down, even a strange one, can tell him plenty.

[onen_i_estel]

There weren't many creatures in Middle-earth that resemble this one, so Aragorn's reaction is a wary one right after pushing himself back against the fountain. A quick look proves he's without his sword, or any weapon for that matter, which then prompts a ready position to defend himself if he needs to.

But then a man appears and speaks to the curious beast and Aragorn is quick to realize it's a pet. That doesn't quite make him relax just yet, but his eyes turn from unsure to confused. Mostly at the obvious fact at how he's just arrived and uncertain as to the reasons.

With a hand still up, Aragorn speaks breathlessly. "I mean no harm. I also cannot tell you how I got here."

[underpinnings]

It's odd, to Owen, that his presence would put anyone at ease. To him it's usually the other way around: an animal, especially one that seems to share a bond, is an obvious point of leverage against its owner. That, or the violence that animal could do is dependent on the owner.

But if he doesn't register as a threat, he won't act like one. Kero at least has the sense, in his friendliness, to come back to Owen's side instead of harassing the dripping stranger, leaning his ribs against Owen's calf.

"That makes a pair of us," he says, offering the hand he doesn't need ready for his knife, palm out, the two fingers up beside two stumps. "I crawled out of there a couple of months back, you're not alone in that, but I haven't gotten a good answer yet to pass along."

[onen_i_estel]

That answer, or lack thereof, obviously does not make things easier, especially when Aragorn specifically is not any of the usual types of people that come through the fountain. At least for anyone that arrives from a world within the past two or three decades there might be an easier way of telling someone that they were plucked out of time and space to take part in... well, that is a riddle that is missing a number of clues, isn't it?

Where was his old friend, Gandalf when he really needed him?

Aragorn looks down at the offered hand, a universal gesture no matter the time or place, and spares only a moment before clapping a hand down on top of it. He pulls up and stands.

"And are their others, as well?" he asks, though if there are two, then likely there is more.

[underpinnings]

"A decent-sized group, yeah." They wouldn't be a secret for long, even if the man did show any sign of hostility--and he hasn't. Owen gets a sense of strength from the grip, and the unsteadiness of the situation that warranted the help to stand; he lets go when the man gets his feet under him.

Kero, thankfully, is as easy to bore as he is to befriend. When Owen glances back, he's fucked off to gnaw on the rusted leg of a bench. Stupid thing.

"Some people come through with wounds," he says; not entirely a lie, for how often they've been healed before--or to some, during--their arrival. But if it lets them find out now about any special diseases or fantastical medical needs the man is bringing with him, all for the better. "We have a clinic; do you need any medical treatment?"

Inn

[burn_with_us]

Katniss goes into the Inn a lot more now than she did when she first arrived, mostly because the Inn has a feel to her like a cleaner, nicer version of the Hob - she brings her game here, people cook it, and it's a good place to get news.

She almost bumps into the tall man as they seem to try and fit themselves into the doorway at the same time and she comes up short, gestures, and motions him through.

"After you. We can't occupy the same doorway at the same time, after all."

[onen_i_estel]

It was a brief challenge but Aragorn stepped back and out of the way before the young woman spoke. His head bowed respectfully and as he looked up he gestured for her to come through first.

"Please," he started. "Forgive me. I was lost in thought."

Not a great excuse but he was being honest.

[burn_with_us]

"I can tell," Katniss says, mouth twisting in something of a wry smile. Still, it's better to be lost in thought than lost in...other, more unpleasant things, so she doesn't hold it against him.

"Good thoughts, I guess? Or distracting ones, anyway."

[onen_i_estel]

"Neither," he admits, though there's an edge to that tone that is hard to identify and Aragorn is quick to move on so no questions can be asked about it. "I have only arrived so they are far more formidable and consuming."

Perhaps she can understand given he has been made aware that each of the souls there had come from the fountain at some point or another.

Wandering

[pharmakis]

Circe was working in her garden by the mill, making use of the plants that she had collected and gathered in the forest. For all of the strange ones, there were still some she recognized and remembered from her island of Aiaiai. While they were few and far between, it was enough to offer her a little taste of home and returning to the toil of the soil meant returning to her former confidence. It didn't matter if she was made mortal, this was what she loved best and even if she couldn't feel her magic, she was at least helping the ingredients thrive.

There seemed to be a number of new arrivals, though she had not grown used to all of the faces to know for certain if they were truly new or she had somehow missed them. There was one figure that seemed to be exploring the village, usually an indicator for a new arrival, but she often did the same when she needed air.

Whether she was wrong or not, she still offered a smile and a small wave. "It is quite a nice afternoon. If you are looking for something to do, I could put you to work in my garden, unless you have tender hands?"

[onen_i_estel]

Aragorn approaches, bowing his head respectfully before slowing to a stop and giving a brief smile. His hands were weathered and worn, calloused and permanently stained with both dirt and blood. Or so it feels. But he uncrosses his arms from his chest and produces them for her to see before clasping them together and lowering them down in front of him.

"How may I offer aid, my lady?" he asks, voice gentle but direct.

[pharmakis]

He had weathered hands, akin to a warrior, an artisan or a farmer. He was the sort of man that she could appreciate, there was no luxury or idleness about him, but the sweet labor of toil and reward. This of course meant that she would put him to work as often as possible, despite the fact that she had only just met him. It was simply her way.

"I need assistance in building a fence. This garden that I am planting will need protection and I have animals in my home that will need to stretch their legs and not expect to be attacked by a predator. Do you have an idea how to build a fence?"

[onen_i_estel]

No stranger to carpentry, Aragorn feels confident enough that he can complete the task, though he would need to know a few other things before starting.

He glances to the area where she was working, then back to her. "I do, yes." he answers. "Though I should know how big you wish it to be and whether there is prepared wood or if I will need to do that myself."

[oorah]

Frank's been wandering most of the day, same as Aragorn, and it's nearing dusk when he decides he finally needs to rest. Just for a minute-- only ever for a minute. He's sat heavily under a tree just off the path, his backpack stood next to him. The second his back hits the tree trunk, though, he's out like a light, fallen into a deep doze of utter debility. It isn't like him to sleep out in the open, when he still isn't sure what's in store for him; but he's so tired and no amount of coffee he'd chugged at the Inn could change that.

Something deep inside his consciousness senses someone nearby, his sensitive ears even sharper in sleep. Footfalls of a man not too far away register dimly in the back of his mind, slowly prying him from the depths of hard-earned rest. Frank shakes his head and looks up, and then up some more, at the man now towering over him. He doesn't look unkind, but tactics still run through his mind the second they lock eyes, knowing if he had his kabar he could force it into the man's guts and be gone before anyone ever saw him. But he doesn't have his knife, and he can't react that strongly when nothing's even happened here yet. After only a day he's nearly convinced nothing ever does happen here. At least not compared to the nonstop excitement of his life generally, and then life in Reims.

Slowly, he's able to manage his breathing and settle into an easier rhythm, though his heart is still beating rapidly. Leaning into full consciousness he gives Aragorn a pointed look like, What? What is he doing that's offensive? In Reims it would mean he's late for something. Building a house or soundproofing another - quiet maintenance - meal prep - sand paths. Here his calendar stretches out wide before him without expectation, an almost lackadaisical experience even for a first day.

[onen_i_estel]

It's not what Frank is doing that is offensive, though he is pretty impressed that the man was sleeping so soundly. Most of the Men in his world couldn't sleep without waking the dead. Dwarves had the same ability, to a lesser extreme. However, the other man's arrival at his spot was noted no sooner than it happened, as the Ranger was only a mere 50 yards away skinning his kill.

The look Aragorn is given is easily understood, seeing it a time or two on the journey by Boromir and even Sam when they hadn't slept long enough. And Frank would be told somewhat the same thing he told Boromir and Sam.

"You should keep moving. Once it gets dark enough, creatures you do not wish to come face to face with will come out to do their hunting."

It's a simple caution but then Aragorn speaks again with something that completely contradicts that warning.

"I have food if you're interested."

[oorah]

He knows Aragorn is right, but he doesn't have anywhere to go yet. Frank was honestly planning on camping out until he figured that part out. In Reims even sleeping indoors was taking your life into your hands. Whatever creatures await him out here, he truly isn't worried. That said, he is interested in what the other man caught and so he does get up, slowly moving to his feet as silently as a cat before shrugging on his pack just as quietly. Usually, he'd refuse or at least hesitate, but he can't actually remember when the last time he ate even was. He scrubs a hand over his face to try and wake up as he circles in closer to where the man is preparing the meat. Setting his bag back down, he holds out his hand for the knife. At least let him earn his share.

[onen_i_estel]

Frank will most likely see some familiar instincts in the other man, particularly how light Aragorn moves and howsoundless his footfalls are. It's far easier in weather such as this than it will be in the Fall and Winter months, he's sure. That is if such seasons happened there. He hadn't yet asked about that yet.

The kill is a couple rabbit's which Aragorn shot and killed. He'd slung them off a high branch to make sure no other predators came around to steal them. The furs could also be used eventually once he'd processed them.

He offers his blade and moves to stoke the fire back to life.

"You must have arrived here about the same time as I." Aragorn starts, though it's amazing how quiet and calm he speaks.

Wandering

[thegreatexperiment]

Sam wasn't usually the sort to go off into the woods. Not without a lot of bug spray, a tour guide, and a clear endtime. Robert used to joked about it sometimes, when Sam came home from school, her little head filled with the adventures of her friends over spring break. We're suburban, Sammikins. We don't go camping. She would rolled her eyes at him, but as she grew, she started to appreciate the indoors life more and more.

And even more, after moving to LA.

The problem was, the Inn was making her restless. Restless and self-conscious. Restless, self-conscious, and weirdly horny. It was a truly toxic combination. One she finally decided called for some fresh air and a new perspective.

A mountaineer, she was not, however.

After traipsing rather noisily through the brush for a while, she found a nice clearing and sat down. She wasn't quite LA enough to do some kind of outdoors yoga or any of that shit. But she figured maybe there was something to the whole 'communing with nature' thing. So she sat there, waiting for the communing to start.

She didn't know exactly how she would know when it did.

[onen_i_estel]

Aragorn, still more than confused on what the reasons were of him being brought there and in the days since arriving, not many would have known he existed besides the few he'd already conversed with. Yet during those days, he'd was able to study the area around the village closely and made some discoveries.

Whatever answers she sought while 'communing' would come in the shape of a soft voice singing in an unknown language from anything she has heard before while a kirin follows close after. He's unaware of her presence until her hair catches his attention. He stops, both walking and singing.

"Have you lost your way, my lady?"

[thegreatexperiment]

It was always the hair. Sam had long ago become convinced that if she ever met her One True Love--and she was skeptical that such things exist--he'd notice her for, literally, any other reason. Eyes. Ass. Tits. Fucking forbid, even her talent or some shit like that.

But for now, it was always the hair.

Her clips curled slightly at the corners when he asked his question. She turned to look over and Beardy McBearderson. Definitely a n00b. She spent so much of her time watchin life go by that she'd taken to memorizing the faces of people she never actually met in this clown rodeo.

Beardy McBearderson was new.

"Complicated question," she said, stretching out her long legs.

[onen_i_estel]

A complicated question, perhaps, but one that Aragorn was quickly able to answer himself since she wasn't panicking. Then again, his question might not have been so literal which is why he comes a little closer and raises a brow.

"As a lot can be." he returns.

He knew where he got his answers when he needed to sort his mind out and his ideal spot was in a place in his world that resembled the trees surrounding them here.

Village Outskirts

[pretendtoneedme]

It hadn't been a productive day hunting, and that was frustrating, but sometimes it just happened. It was impossible to control the game, and since there was no real hunting rota, sometimes certain areas got overhunted and they needed to shift operations for awhile until it drifted back to closer to normal. Clint had only bagged a rabbit and two squirrels, which was enough to feed his household for a couple of days, but not enough to provide any extra for the inn. Maybe the fishers had had better luck than him.

But as he came back in from his attempted slaughter of forest creatures, Arado beside him as usual, he spots the unfamiliar form ahead of him staring with mild bewilderment at one of the houses in front of him. Since he wasn't panicking and didn't seem to have the backpack on him (not to mention being dry), Clint was pretty sure someone had already given him the standard welcome, but it couldn't hurt to be sure. "Hey, you all right?"

[onen_i_estel]

For a man of his height, he's grateful to be able to at least walk into one of the houses and fit without banging his head. They weren't exactly Hobbit-sized homes, but they weren't the usual Elven structures he'd come to be most familiar with either. The interior layouts were also quite bizarre, especially where it came to the tiny rooms.

Aragorn turns his head towards the sound of Clint's voice and then turns thoughtful while deciding how to answer that.

"As well as can be expected given my new surroundings and circumstances." he answers, turning a little more as the other man approaches.

Closed to Elrond

[onen_i_estel]

For three days and three nights, Aragorn remained out in the wilds, investigating the land and the animals, as well as potential threats that weren't akin to the land itself. He was looking for reasons on why he was there, which the king was sure there was a purpose. So far, that reason had yet to be revealed. And that frustrated him more as the days went by.

Without realizing Elrond someone he knew also arrived, Aragorn didn't bother returning to the sleepy village until he absolutely had to and that was only to bring in the logs he found to add to the fence he was building for the Lady Circe. He would need more but what he had collected so far was a good amount to start.

After spending a number of hours on it and using up all the wood, Aragorn wandered to the inn with the hopes of finding a hatchet to take back out with him. And as he made his way back towards the door, he stopped and looked up, not expecting who he saw.

His head bows with respect. "My Lord Elrond."

[half_elven]

Elrond had missed Aragorn's entrance and had the other taken a minute longer in his task, he might have missed him entirely given he had been heading back outside himself. It was both unsettling and yet a comfort to see a familiar face. It meant that whatever was responsible hadn't been satisfied with merely dragging him here, or even that he might not have been the first brought from Arda to here. Thus the questions as to why either of them were here that continued to remain unanswered turned what should be a pleased reunion into something more troubled.

"How long have you been within this...place?"

The question was posed to answer the silent one that had come to mind upon first seeing Aragorn before him, and no doubt give birth to any number of new mysteries that if they followed the pattern of those already present, would remain unsolvable despite all efforts to unravel them.