The man was still haggard, careworn and wary, flinching when a guardsman's swordhilt clanged against his armour.
Aragorn's eyes never left the other's, letting him see all he was feeling: compassion, belief in the future, hope for trust.
"We will send what help you need, what help you want. Speak with the Steward, and my other councillors. Tell your people that if they want to stay, none will gainsay them. This land is yours, paid for in dear coin of blood, sweat, tears and pain - may it now yield a harvest for you and yours deserving of such a price."
- "...and the slaves of Mordor he released and gave to them all the lands about Lake Núrnen to be their own." (RotK, The Steward and the King)
01.06.06 B-drabble for Gwynnyd, who requested a drabble about Aragorn and politics.
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