Disclaimer: Tolkien bestrides his Middle-earth – Kortirion tip-toes around the edges
He’d walked far over rocky slopes, now footsore; his thighs ached from the climb. Ahead wound a narrow valley cut by a tree-lined stream. The green beckoned; this route was longer, but he yearned for relief.
Early blossom above, tussocky grass underfoot - he brushed his hand through Birches bearing tiny leaves, still ruffled tight - balm to his fea. He longed to discard his boots, to walk bare-foot and feel Arda breathe, but...
He was watched!
He paused, wary. Elves stood forth, one bowed ‘We camp yonder, if you would join us?’
Aragorn smiled; nodded, noticing they were already bare-foot.