THE VERY SECRET DIARY OF ARAGORN, SON OF ARATHORN, PART II

By Cassie Claire



Day One:

Ran forty miles across Rohan. No squirrels to eat. Gimli looking about roasting size. Have been told dwarf tastes like chicken. Still not King.

Stubble update: satisfactory.

Day Two:

Ran into army of Rohirrim. Asked Eomer if he knew where hobbits were. Got v. cagey answer. Perhaps Eomer still mad about that last bender I went on where I painted rude words in Elvish all over his horse. Decided not to mention he has obviously copied hairstyle from Legolas. He wouldn’t be giving me this attitude if I were King.

Day Three:

Once you’ve seen one pile of smoking dead Orcs, you’ve seen ‘em all. That’s all I’m sayin’.

Day Four:

Ran into Gandalf. Turns out he did not actually die but instead was forced by Balrog to sell out to laundry detergent company and is now Gandalf the Sparkly White. PR whore. Next thing he’ll be charging for pointy hat trick.

Day Six:

In Edoras. King Theoden giving me attitude. He was all, “Are you King here? Last time I checked, I was King here. I’m lookin’ around and I don’t see anyone else with a crown on his head. Eh? Eh?”

Was forced to admit I am indeed still not King.

In revenge, stole his wallet when he was not looking and used it to open charge account at Gap of Rohan. Have bought matching poke bonnets for Gimli and Legolas.

Day Seven:

Suspect Eowyn fancies me. Cannot blame her as stubble so manly is turning even self on.

Day Nine:

Fell over cliff. Stupid wolves of Isengard. Think was rescued by Arwen but when woke up was kissing my horse. Bit of a squick there. Have lost favorite sparkly necklace in river. Feeling v. petulant as there is no such thing as bad jewelry. Well, maybe Ring.

Stubble update: wet.

Day Twelve:

Triumphant return to Helm’s Deep. Got hugged by Gimli. As if I needed to be reminded that he is belt buckle height yet again. Necklace returned to me by Legolas, yay! He muttered something in Elvish that could have been “You’re late” or could have been “Throw me down and shag me rotten.” Not entirely sure which. Must brush up on Elvish as do not wish to presume.

Still not King but too busy keeping up men’s morale to brood. Upcoming battle should be piece of cake, really.

Day Fourteen:

Standing on battlements of Helm’s Deep. Absolutely ridiculous number of Orcs headed this way. Who are we kidding anyway. We are so fucked. Perhaps this place has a side door.

Day Fourteen, Later:

Elves have sent army of most willowy and graceful warriors to assist us. Will be no use at fighting of course but at least I will die looking at something pretty. Theoden keeps muttering, “It’s unbelievable!” about elf army. Was forced to agree –it is unbelievable that Haldir’s eyebrows do not match his weave.

Keep trying to sneak out side door, but Gimli following me everywhere. Will never be King at this rate.

Day Fifteen:

Unexpectedly victorious in battle of Helm’s Deep, but celebration ruined by obnoxious postcard from Faramir, which included picture of himself on beaches of Osgiliath with tiny Ringbearer and fat companion, sharing a pina colada and wearing colorful shorts. Postcard reads:

Dear Aragorn,

Thanks for the Ring and the hobbits. They are small, but v. bendy. Just what I always wanted! Still have fond memories of that night we spent together in Minas Tirith. Love and kisses, Faramir.

God damn Faramir. Might as well just have let Boromir have the Ring and cut out the middleman. At least I know Sam will kill him if he tries anything.

Still not King.