When Hope Is Lost

A/N: The story's timeline is pre-FOTR and just after the death of Aragorn's mother. He hasn't yet met Legolas. This story is slightly AU, thought I have tried to remain true to the original story.

Disclaimer-I can't lay claim to any of these characters, they all belong to the great master of fantasy, JRR Tolkein

Chapter One-Hunting Trip

Aragorn had to get away. After his mother's death he had thrown himself into the grueling training to become a Ranger. Over time, he had become numb to grief, but the training had broken his spirit. Elrond had been almost relieved when his adopted son had asked for leave to go hunting. The Lord of Rivendell gave Aragorn leave with his blessing. He hoped that his beloved Estel would benefit from this holiday, and, sensing that the young heir of Isildur wished to be alone, he prevented the twins from going with him.

So, Aragorn, armed with his sword and bow, set out on foot from his home to go hunting, though more for the purpose of clearing his crowded mind than for the game he would catch. For the first time in his short life, he was glad he was not an elf, for they could never forget what they experienced. He wanted to forget. He wanted the memories to grow dull and fade away.

His mind wandered back to the rangers he often hunted alongside. He hadn't yet become one of them, though they had given him the nickname Strider, and the name suited him better than Aragorn, than name of his birth, or Estel, the name Elrond had given him. If death was all that being an heir to the throne of Gondor brought him, then he wanted no part of it. Yet he didn't belong with the elves, either. He would die one day, and they would live on. He hoped that the nickname marked the beginning of the Rangers' accepting of him.

He shifted his arms and winced, scowling as he discovered he was very sore and achy, but he dismissed the pain from his mind. He had been using his sword more than usual lately.