Hobbit/The Lord of the Rings Imagines

Aragorn ~ Sword

I watched on eagerly as father crafted the sword. Normally he did not allow me to watch, but today was different.

Today he decided I was ready to learn.

With my mother being unable to bear more children, myself being the youngest of three other girls, my father relented that one of us would have to take over his work as blacksmith.

I was the only one ever interested.

So now I watched eagerly as his hammer fell upon the blade, working it into its eventual perfection.

It didn't take long for me to be able to pick up the hammer myself, and within a few years, I was equally as good as he, my heart and passion into the work.

As my father started to get too old for the work, he became the one watching, and I would often catch a proud smile on his face as he watched me work.

It was a good feeling.

It was on one day, my father doing several tasks out the back, that a young man came in.

He was tall, with dark hair and blue eyes, and an air of humbleness about him that I automatically liked. The other note I made to myself was that he was quite handsome.

"My lady," He bowed politely. "I was wondering if I could seek your fathers services?"

I smiled warmly at him. "My fathers hands do not work as well as they used to sir, so you may seek mine instead. I can sharpen or mend any blade as well as he ever could."

This seemed to surprise him. "You can work a forge?"

I nod, used to this question. "Alas with my mother bearing no sons, and my elder sister's too dainty to work a forge, thus the task fell to me." I tossed the hammer in my hand, so it spun and I caught it again. "And my father had taught me well."

The man smiled widely. "So I can see. I would still wish to speak to him if that is alright? We know each other well."

I found this strange, as I now knew most of my fathers clients, but I agreed none the less, retrieving my father from out the back.

"Ah, Strider." My father says as he spots the young man. "Good to see you again."

"And you, sir." Strider was clearly a nickname, but I remained silent as he bowed.

"What can I do you for this time?" My fathers gaze went to the sword on his belt.

"Still not this today, Ven." His smiled turned strained. "The elves have agreed to look at this one for me, as it was elvish magic that helped it before."

"Shame that they won't share their secrets." My father sighs. "Be nice of us of lower quality."

"Your work is amazing without elven magic Ven." He says and his eyes flick to me for a moment. "And I'm sure your daughter is just as good."

"She is better these days." My father beamed at me. "She learnt quicker than I ever thought she could and does work that took me years to properly master. She does most of it all now, my hands are too old, the cramp and I can't hold the blades as steady as I used to."

I returned the smile. "I had a good teacher."

My father nods and turns back to Strider. "Enough of an old man passing praise, what can we do you for?"

Strider had managed to lose one of the daggers that my father had made last time and was after a replacement, he also wanted the old one sharpened and some new arrow heads.

My father gave me the task of creating the new blade while he did the sharpening and arrow heads. He didn't need to assure Strider that my work was of equal quality as Strider quickly said that he was sure I could manage it. We told him it should be ready by early the next morning and he took is leave.