Gideon Took was a lonely hobbit. He was quite tall (for a hobbit) and had brown curly hair. He lived in an abandoned hobbit hole a little a ways from Hobbiton. His grandparents told him his parents were killed when he was one year old by a pack of wolves. He has lived in their house with revenge in his heart, wishing he was big enough to fight. Then again, maybe he was just the right size.

Little Gideon made his bows from a small oak behind his domain. It served him as a weapon to hunt for food, which he did as often as three times a day. Even though he feared his death, he wished that he could get in a fight with some evil creature, to test his skills.

Gideon looked out towards the horizon. It was getting dark and the sun was sinking into the Earth. He walked into his house and grabbed a deep green, hooded cloak. He also went to his arsenal of oak bows and picked out one to use today. They were all great bows, with slender bodies. You could tell his bows were expertly made. He grabbed the one farthest to his right and slung a quiver full of arrows over his back. Now he was ready to hunt.

The brush shook slightly and a deer looked up for a long while and stared at it. It simply went back to eating grass and all of a sudden an arrow flew into its flesh. The arrow hit it in its thigh so it could not move. Gideon jumped out of the brush and went to his prey. It was still alive so he ended its misery with a knife blade to the throat. “Sorry friend,” he said quietly to himself, “But I need you as you need the grass to survive.” Gideon started to drag the deer, for if he slung it over his head it would crush him. He was very strong for a hobbit and never broke a sweat as he dragged the deer home.

After the long drag, Gideon grabbed a couple of logs by his house and started a fire in his pit. He skinned and skewered the deer meat onto a stick and commenced to cook it. As he was cooking he heard a few branches snap behind him. He looked behind him to check who was there. No one. He shrugged and turned back around to see a man sitting on a log next to his fire, inspecting his food! The man was one of the tall folk, probably from Bree. He had long brown hair and a scruffy beard. He was wearing a simple hunting outfit. What most surprised Gideon was the sheath for a long sword on the man’s belt. He was so shocked he could not speak. The man looked at him.

“Let me see that bow of yours,” he said simply.

Gideon handed over the bow without a thought and sat back, watching the man test it. He inspected the body and pulled back the string.

“Did you make this weapon?” he asked.

Gideon was sort of surprised by the word weapon, but answered nonetheless.

“Um… yes,” he answered, “Yes, I made it.”

The ranger glanced over at Gideon and then back at the bow. “This is a good bow,” he replied, “It has an excellent body and a great string.” (This made Gideon feel proud of himself.) “But like any weapon, it could still be better.” This made the pride diminish in Gideon. Why do I need this critic? he thought to himself.

“Who are you?” he asked the man.

“I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn and I would like to teach you to become a ranger,” he said with the utmost confidence.

“A ranger?” Gideon laughed. “How could I possibly be a ranger? I am too small to deal with the business of you folk and I have to look after my parents’ house, for they are dead.”

Aragorn looked at Gideon straight in the eye. “They are not dead.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your parents did not get killed by wolves,” he said, “They fled this place to protect you.”

“But you’re saying my grandparents lied to me?”

“No,” Aragorn replied, “They were told by the elves of Rivendell to give you this false information so you would not go out and search for them, for we know that’s what you would do.”

“And how do you know this?” Gideon sneered.

“I know that you are not the hobbit you think you are Gideon,” Aragorn said, “You are half Took and half Dunedain. You are part of my kin.”

“You and I are part of the Dunedain?”

“Haven’t you wondered why you were always taller than everyone else?” Aragorn asked. “I have watched you in much of your life and I tell you now that you can do more than you think you can. You were meant to be a ranger.”

“How am I supposed to believe all of this you have told me?” Gideon asked quizzically.

“The only way you can find out the truth is by becoming my apprentice,” Aragorn replied. “I will teach you. I will help you wield the power of our ancestors.”

Gideon didn’t answer.

“I will come tomorrow night to this same spot,” Aragorn said. “If I find you here I will assume you will come with me and we will go to Rivendell, where I shall teach you. If I do not find you here, I will simply walk away and forget that you ever existed and go on with my life just as I once did. The choice is yours to decide. Embrace your true meaning, or wallow in its shadow.” And with that Aragorn got up and walked back into the forest.

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