Aragorn had been confident that there weren't many things in life which could surprise him anymore and even more confident in his abilities as a Ranger, though he had always been humble about it. Being raised and trained by the Elves of Rivendell since infancy had certainly helped this along.
As an eighty-seven-year-old Ranger, Aragorn had experienced and fought in many wars, and was a well-travelled Man, having wondered all of Middle-Earth many times over and earning himself many titles along the way. Strider, Thorongil, and Wingfoot were but a few amongst the absolutely ridiculous amount of titles which he had acquired over the years.
This, of course, meant that the Ranger had many opportunities to interact with people from every corner of Middle-Earth, and so, naturally, Aragorn would be confident enough to accurately discern any Man, Dwarf or Elf's homeland by simply gazing upon them.
However, despite all of his efforts, Aragorn, for the life of him, couldn't figure out where on Middle-Earth the stranger who simply called himself 'Lee' was from.
Just about everything about him was a mystery. From his strange, golden eyes which held far too much wisdom for someone claiming to only be eighteen, to the almost grotesque scar which marred his rather handsome features.
Aragorn still vividly remembered his first encounter with Lee.
Wargs had somehow strayed into the outskirts of Bree and were reportedly attacking innocent travellers.
Aragorn was patrolling the borders when he'd stumbled upon the enigma who easily battled a pack of Wargs with strangely crafted swords - which were apparently named 'Duel Dao' swords and were a rather clear indication that the man was a foreigner - while a small family of three cowered behind him.
Whenever the Ranger recalled the pure fury which burnt in Lee's golden orbs as he fought that day, a spell of cold shivers would run down his spine. However, Aragorn soon learned that such an episode of rage was quite rare for Lee, who was, in fact, rather caring, patient and mature for one of his age - though he frequently donned a scowl when in deep contemplation.
Truly though, the mysterious foreigner would no doubt be a worthy adversary for anyone who dared to test him.
After establishing a rather strange relationship with the young man - they weren't quite friends, per se, but simply held a mutual feeling of respect for one another - Aragorn naturally endeavoured to keep his past concealed, not wishing to receive yet another pair of expectant eyes. Not wanting to be questioned about his decision of self banishment and of his refusal to take the throne.
However, after a slight mishap, the true nature of his heritage had been revealed to Lee, much to the Ranger's dismay.
Despite this, Lee's face held nothing but pure understanding. Not a judgemental look which Aragorn had fully expected, and this truly did astound the man.
Many times, the Ranger and a multitude of others would ask, "Who are you, Lee? Truly?" which garnered the same response, time and time again.
"Just a humble traveller," Lee would say, a small smile on his face as if amused at a joke which only he was privy to.
This answer always made Aragorn laugh.
It was a blatant lie, of course, and quite an obvious one too - something which everyone, not just Aragorn himself, was well aware of.
Despite insisting that he was no one of importance, the young man's amazing swordsmanship, knowledge, as well as the overwhelming air of authority which he practically leaked clearly spoke otherwise.
No one had a single clue about where Lee was from, nor his true identity, but Aragorn was patient and had faith in his skills. He trusted that one day, he'd eventually find the answers he'd not-so-secretly desired for quite some time.
Perhaps the Ranger could bribe him using tea? Only Eru knew why the young man had such an unhealthy obsession with the herbal brew.
Aragorn simply shook his head at the thought and added it to his mental list of mysteries surrounding the teen name Lee.