Who: Aragorn and Conan. What: Checking out the Library and sharing a theory. When: 2 hours past dawn in 2 days (Day 8) Where: The Library, Odin district. Rating: PG!
There was much that was curious about the boy, and the main mystery was simply that he acted like no child that Aragorn knew. He had noticed from the first day they met, but kept his silence - what did he know of children, after all, when all his life was spent amongst the immortal elves and the unchanging forests and fields of the North, with their long-lived Rangers? The few children he had met in Gondor and Rohan were young boys, ripe to become soldiers, at least beyond ten years of age
( ... )
Aragorn had the same idea? Conan's expression changed from surprise to ruefully amused as he recognised his companion amongst the library's visitors. It took him a moment to parse Aragorn's gesture, but he nodded, following the man outside.
The morning air was crisp with a chilly bite in it; sharp contrast to the rarefied air of the library. Conan took a deep breath, shaking off the peace and hush of the rows of books, before turning to Aragorn. "Good morning, Aragorn-san."
Aragorn didn't answer immediately, instead taking in a deep breath of the air. It wasn't the clean, sharp crispness of Caradhas, where the air was so cold that it froze within his lungs, and his heartbeat roared in his chest to warm himself up. No, this air reminded him more of Rivendell, with its residual smell of old books and new trees.
He shook his head a little, freeing himself from the cobwebs of memories, and turned to Conan, nodding at him in greeting.
"As I mentioned, I found a book of Greek mythology, so we can compare it to the legends of your world and the legends of this place," Conan said, proffering the book. "The Gods of Greece are not the same as those of the region the gods here are from in my world, but other's have claimed that they couldn't find books on the Norse gods in the library, and I found that to be the case as well. This -- will at least allow us to compare, which --" Conan hesitated.
He was used to dealing with facts, not pure theory -- and this was uncomfortably like philosophy. "Which will provide a base point for the theory I want to tell you about."
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The morning air was crisp with a chilly bite in it; sharp contrast to the rarefied air of the library. Conan took a deep breath, shaking off the peace and hush of the rows of books, before turning to Aragorn. "Good morning, Aragorn-san."
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He shook his head a little, freeing himself from the cobwebs of memories, and turned to Conan, nodding at him in greeting.
"What have you found?"
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He was used to dealing with facts, not pure theory -- and this was uncomfortably like philosophy. "Which will provide a base point for the theory I want to tell you about."
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