Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Characters of Lord of the Rings. I just play around with them and create awkward situations they try to get out of

Rating: T for Teen (just to be safe)

Author's Note: I got this idea when reading another fanfiction. In the story they had called Aragorn, Estel. Confused I went and googled the name. It turns out that Aragorn does not have just two names. Then I wondered what would happen if people ever argued over his name, thus this was born. This my first Lord of the Rings fanfiction, so yay me. I apologize if anyone is out of character. All spelling and grammar mistakes are mine. Other than that enjoy.

The tavern was a light with the glow of lanterns and fire. Men and women were crowded at benches and tables sing songs, talking, and drinking their mead. In the corner of the tavern sat a strange group of people. There were four hobbits, two humans, one dwarf, one wizard, and one elf. The other patrons could tell how close the group was just by the way they drank and talked. The patrons wouldn't have taken much notice of the group if it weren't for the event that followed soon after they arrived.

It started when the dark haired human stood up and went over to the tavern tender and ordered the group another round of ale. He was standing away from his group when a loud shriek came from a young maiden.

"Mister Strider? Is that you?" the girl asked as she approached the man. The man nodded indicating that he was indeed her Strider.

"I apologize, but who are you?" Strider said.

"It's me Muriel. You saved me from those savage rabbits," the girl implored. Everyone could tell that Strider had no idea who she was from the lack of recognition in his eyes. Almost all the patrons, especially the group at the corner table, were interested in how this man saved the girl from a pack of savage rabbits.

"I wore a flowed dress and demanded you play tea party with me after you saved me," the girl explained. The look of horror in his eyes told the girl and the rest of the patrons that he remembered her.

"Oh yes I remember."

"Yeah sorry about that," the girl said sheepishly. "Anyway I, uh, just wanted to apologize and say thank you, for you know, um, saving me." The girl was just about to leave when an elderly woman came up from behind Strider.

"Now who are you talking to Muriel? You know it's not polite to ignore your grandmother on her birthday." The old woman had snow-white hair, a scared face, and a hunch to her posture. There was resemblance in the eyes and smiles of the two women.

"It's just a man who saved me a long time ago, grandmother," the maiden answered. The man named Strider turned and faced the grandmother. The tavern was so quite everyone could her the old woman's gasp.

"Well as I live and breath," the old woman murmured. "Thorongil, it has been awhile. You still owe three gold and an barrel of ale."

"Grandmother this is Strider not Thorongil."

"Oh he's Thorongil alright. I can tell by the eyes. Tried to save me from a group of bandits. Was a bit surprised when I beat them, then challenged him to a duel."

"Linaya? Loud-mouth Linaya?" Strider, also known as Thorongil, asked, his eyes widening.

"So now he remember me," the old woman grumbled. "Yes, it's me. My hair's a little whiter and my face is more wrinkled but it's me. Been years since I seen you, yet you have hardly aged." Muriel stared at both of them in shock. The group in the corner was smirking at each other.

"Grandmother how do you know this man?" Muriel asked. Strider Thorongil just looked sheepish.

"We used to be as thick as thieves, he and I. The first time we met, I had just finished kicking his ass-"

"If I recall it was I who kicked your ass," Strider interrupted.

"I think your memory is going old man, cause I clearly remembered beating you in the duel."

"I am hardly an old man," Strider snapped.

"I beg to differ. You were many years older then I when we met. I was but a maiden looking for adventure and love."

"Grandmother," Muriel scolded, "let the man speak."

"If I did that we would not hear the end of it. He did like to tell tales. And you still owe me three gold and a barrel of ale."

"I am sorry mister Strider, er, Thorongil," Muriel stuttered as she tried to coax her grandmother away from the young man.

"Think nothing of it," Strider said. The tavern door opened, just as the two women pulled away from the man named Strider, reveling two female hobbits, two elves, and two humans. Their eyes scanned the room when they spotted Strider.

"Longshanks. Stick-at-naught Strider." The two hobbits yelled, "You owe our father money." The glare that he sent the two female hobbits, made them both hide behind the two humans and the two elves.

"His name is not Longshanks nor Stick-at-naught Strider. His name is Estel," the female elf said. Her dark hair, fair features, and blue eyes captivated many of the male patrons. Both of the female hobbits looked up at her.

"How do you know this, Anweth?" the older looking hobbit asked.

"I met him once when I was younger, Sila. I was visiting Lord Elrond when I bumped in to him, quite literally. I was always so clumsy in my youth," the elf sighed.

"Bullshit," the younger hobbit said. "No way, were you ever clumsy."

"I don't lie, Nella." Both Nella and Sila glared at Anweth.

"You are wrong Anweth, his name is Dunadan not Estel," Said the second elf.

"Not so Ianeth. His name is Estel."

"The people of Rivendale call him Dunadan, so he Dunadan," Ianeth said, allowing no room for argument. The patrons of the bar stared in wonder at the man as the elves and hobbits bickered. Strider Thorongil Longshanks Stick-at-naught Strider Estel Dunadan felt himself start to blush at the patrons' attention.

"All of you are wrong," a strong human voice rang out. Some of the patrons recognized her as Lord Eomer's apprentice, Silvia. Ever since Eowyn's fight with the Witch-king, Eomer had been allowing the women folk to join in the ranks of the guards. Silvia had been one of the guards' best captains.

"His name is Wingfoot, Lord Eomer told me so," Silvia said. To her, Lord Eomer's word was law. If he said Striders' name was Wingfoot, it was Wingfoot. But it was not Silvia's name that got everyone's attention, nor was Nella's nor Sila's nor Ianeth, nor Anweth. It was the small girl named Elizabeth who caused the entire tavern to look at Strider in awe and respect. She was about ten years old and out of place with the elves and hobbits and human.

"He's King Elessar Telcontar the High King of Gondor and Arnor," the little girl said. "Lady Arwen also told me to tell him to get his royal butt out of the tavern and back home." The whole tavern was in excitement. The king was actually in the tavern. The group in the corner laughed and snickered at the kings' expense. It was the tavern owner who finally quieted everyone down by tossing the strange group of females out of the tavern.

"You are causing too much ruckus. Come again some other time," the tavern owner grouched. By the time everything returned to normal the king was back to his group holding a mug in his hands. It was the elf that spoke first.

"So Aragorn, what is your name?" The only response he got was a groan.

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Fatcat