Since I haven't written many younger Aragorn stories, I thought to do so here. This was a bit difficult, but I reread the beginning of the "Tale of Aragorn and Arwen", and I hope it follows what a twenty-year-old Aragorn might have thought about his heritage. This could be thought of a sequel of "Hidden: Line of Kings", which can be found on Chapter Eight (Hidden: Line of Kings).

On an RL note, I am entering my junior year of high school tomorrow. It will make me much busier, but I am going to try and keep writing as much as possible.

Prompt 19: Mirror
Fic: Heirlooms
Rating: G
Year 2951, Imladris

Estel sat upon his bed, deep in thought. He had just had a short meeting with his father- nay, Master Elrond. For he was Elrond's son no more, he realized as he looked down at the small item in his hand. As he stared at the Ring of Barahir, it struck him that he finally knew who his true father was. He was Arathorn's son- Arathorn, who was of the line of Isildur, thus making himself now the Heir of Isildur.

Estel- nay, it was now Aragorn- glanced to his side, where lay the shards of Narsil. It never occurred to him that Elrond had it in his possession, though now that he thought of it, it made perfect sense. After the fall of the Northern Kingdom, Imladris would be the safest place to keep the shards.

He was surprised, however, to find that the Ring of Barahir was also in Elrond's keeping. He had believed it to be lost long ago with Arvedui in the Forochel, if not sooner; to be holding this ring right now was truly amazing. The fact that it actually belonged to him had not yet seemed to take hold. Shaking his head in disbelief, he held the beautiful piece of jewelry up to take a closer look at it.

It was exactly as history described it. This ring was like to twin serpents, whose eyes were emeralds, and their heads met beneath a crown of golden flowers, that the one upheld and the other devoured.* He slowly slipped it onto his left index finger, stood up, and looked into the mirror.

He glanced at his reflection, which he had not seen in a few months due to being away from civilization. He did see that he looked older and a bit more experienced. Of course, it may have just been the small beard that had grown during his trip, for he had not yet had a chance to shave. But otherwise, he truly did not look too much different, nor did he feel different. He thought that perhaps once the shock of his heritage had lessened, he would feel something. He was not sure what, but being of the line of kings would give a person something, would it not?

Sighing, he wrapped the shards in a cloth and put them away in his trunk, but kept on the ring. Perhaps this feeling would come later; maybe he just needed to wait for a while. With that comforting thought in mind, he glanced once more at the mirror. Now that he looked closer, he did seem a little bit taller.

He grinned at his reflection, and with his heart high in him, he left the room.

*Passage from 'The Silmarillion': "Of Beren and Lúthien". You just can't get better than the Professor himself ;-)