Born of Hope Page #2
- Year:
- 2009
- 71 min
- 226 Views
They'll find us soon enough.
So, I must hurry,
or miss my chance.
For what?
I hope they take their time.
I train them too well.
My lord?
I wandered too far from the village.
I am at your service, my lord.
Halbaron, escort the Lady Gilraen back to the village.
At once, my lord.
Elgarain. A word.
I'm sorry, my lord.
We could not find you. I did not know...
No apology necessary, my friend.
Have you ever been in love?
No.
It changes your world.
Consumes it with a burning flame
that does not abate.
A light as brilliant and piercing as Erendil's star.
You have been in love.
So you are in love?
I am to be wed!
Or I hope to be.
And soon if fortune is with me.
I wish you joy, my lord.
Your heart should be filled with joy, Arathorn.
Oh, it is...
yet I fear that Lord Drhael will not willingly give his blessing...
Gilraen is, like you, not yet of age.
I may not have known love,
but I do know that when the heart would command the tongue
no man should stand in the way...
if you delay you may find that what should have been spoken
is forever locked in your heart,
and regret your only companion.
Your words are wise
still
The seasons are changing.
Maybe it will bring a change to his heart too.
If it changes with the seasons,
it can only grow colder.
Just hold your ground and speak your heart.
Thank you.
You're a good friend to me.
I would lay down my very life for you.
And I for you.
I am glad you're safe, my son.
You also father.
Halbaron tells me that your campaign against
the orcs has been a success.
Their numbers are indeed few now.
They should not trouble us for some time.
Yet your mind is not at ease.
I now know what they're after,
and that they do not act alone.
They are servants of Sauron,
and he seeks the Ring of Barahir.
Father, they are hunting for you.
It is as I feared then.
I beg you to hide the ring.
Do not wear it!
No.
Sherif-Down.BlogSpot.CoM
But it will lead them straight to you!
Let Sauron send all the armies in this world against us.
I will not hide from who I am,
while I have a breath in my body,
and a sword in my hand.
Forgive me.
There is nothing to forgive, my son.
You have been of great service to me, and the Dnedain.
You are a true heir of kings!
Come now, do not be troubled.
that the people look upon us for guidance,
that we had to stand fast, no matter what.
Perhaps one day
you will find someone with as much wisdom and beauty,
to counsel you.
You have my blessing, my children.
May your days be long and fruitful,
and filled with hope.
I go now to Rivendell,
where Elrond Halfelven awaits me.
When I return with his good counsel,
then perhaps we shall have a wedding.
Good luck with Drhael.
Lord Drhael...
good morning.
Through the long winter months
the warmth in Arathorn's heart
was only held at bay
by his fear of failing his most important task.
Just hold your ground,
and speak your heart.
Lord Drhael.
I have come to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.
I owe you my life, son of Arador.
But I do not owe you my daughter.
But I love her, my lord.
I fear deeply the shadow
you cast on my house, Isildur's Heir.
The attention you show my daughter is unwelcome...
By you.
Not by her.
Yes. Therefore it cannot be ignored.
I hope for Gilraen's sake
your father's blood flows through your veins.
If you fail your people,
you will have only the Dnedain to answer to.
If you fail her,
it is me to whom you'll answer.
Was that a yes?
And when Winter had withdrawn it's cold fingers from the land
and passed into bright and early Spring.
Arathorn, son of Arador
and the Lady Gilraen were wed,
in happiness and hope.
But after only a year of joy,
a dark shadow crept back into their lives.
Arador, son of Argonui,
Lord of the Dnedain, found himself in a shallow dell
amid the chill, blinding vapours of the Coldfells.
Run!
Run!
Where's my father?
He's further South.
Go!
Father!
Father.
Arathorn! Arathorn! Awake!
It is nought but a dream! Awake!
No! I saw him! I felt the breath leave him!
Shhh! It's but a dream. A dream!
Oh, Gilraen! Would that it were!
What hope is there for our people?
The line of the Kings hangs by a thread,
I fear it's going to find its bitter end in me.
Arathorn, where is your joy?
Where is your hope?
I will not despair!
Nor would I have you do so.
Arathorn, look at me!
Fear not tomorrow,
for it is not ours to know or to command.
And do not fear that the royal house has reached its end.
It is alive.
In you.
And in me.
There is my Hope.
So a year after the lose of his father
on the first day of the third month
Arathorn and the Dnedain welcomed into the world new hope.
You have a son my lord.
We will name him, Aragorn.
Kingly Valour, that he shall have,
but on his breast I see a green stone,
and from that his true name shall come
and his chief renown
for he shall be a healer and a renewer.
Behold Aragorn,
son of Arathorn,
Lord of the Dnedain!
Scion of Elendil of Nmenor!
The Heir of Isildur!
Hail Aragorn!
Hail Aragorn!
By the valour of the Lord and his Rangers,
the Dnedain had a measure of peace.
And the child Aragorn grew swiftly and happily.
Halbaron
Seems but yesterday that your son Halbarad
was Aragorn's age.
It does indeed, my lord.
I imagine it'll seem the same, Evonyn,
when our son is a man.
That it will, my lady.
How quickly they grow!
And how much they eat to get there!
If there's anything left!
I claim this field in the name of the King!
Seven stars and a crown on a field of blue
In the wind of war the banner flew
Around it the King called men forth
To fight for freedom in the North
Fornost has fallen the herald cried
As Dnedain they fought and they died
A man noble and brave fell from his steed
Trampled by beasts that gave no heed
The king was carried from the fray
As the army of Angmar made its way
Our banner caught in a sea of death
As the kings herald drew one last breath
The banner toppled and fell to the Earth
The enemy howled in terrible mirth
As men ran in fear and cried
The Lords Elladan and Elrohir of Rivendell arrived unlooked for,
and wished to speak with us at once.
Welcome, friends!
What brings you to us this night?
And how fares your father Lord Elrond?
And the Lady Arwen?
Our father and sister are well, my lord.
It was Elrond who sent us hither in haste.
Orcs are increasing North and East of Taurdal.
Their numbers are greater than have been seen in many years.
Even now they move relentlessly toward
the northernmost villages of the Dnedain.
It will not be long before danger
presses once more on your borders.
To Rivendell where the boy doth lie
And where the banner still flies on high.
For this reason our father sends grave counsel.
What is this counsel?
He urges you to send your wife and son
to Imladris for safekeeping,
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"Born of Hope" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/born_of_hope_4514>.
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