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The first time Aragorn saw the Ring was on the snows of the Caradhras: a heavy gold band on a chain, caught between the glint of snow and sun. It looked harmless, a trinket.. no more..
But even if he had never seen the One Ring before, he knew better, he felt the power it exhuded, so dark for something so bright and shiny.
His hand had gone instinctively to the hilt of his sword, before anyone moved. Every member of the Fellowship had been frozen to the spot, then Boromir had moved, had reached out for the chain holding the Ring, lifting it in the air, and the green eyes had followed the way the gold band danced in the sunlight, had smiled at it and the Ring had seemed to smile back.
Gandalf's harsh cry to give the Ring back to Frodo had unlocked the tableau, but only when the Ring was safely hidden against Frodo's skin again did Aragorn's hand leave the sword and the breath he had been holding leave his lungs.
Only his gaze remained where it had been fixed, on Boromir.
But even if he had never seen the One Ring before, he knew better, he felt the power it exhuded, so dark for something so bright and shiny.
His hand had gone instinctively to the hilt of his sword, before anyone moved. Every member of the Fellowship had been frozen to the spot, then Boromir had moved, had reached out for the chain holding the Ring, lifting it in the air, and the green eyes had followed the way the gold band danced in the sunlight, had smiled at it and the Ring had seemed to smile back.
Gandalf's harsh cry to give the Ring back to Frodo had unlocked the tableau, but only when the Ring was safely hidden against Frodo's skin again did Aragorn's hand leave the sword and the breath he had been holding leave his lungs.
Only his gaze remained where it had been fixed, on Boromir.
