The Mouth of Sauron
Disclaimer: All the characters in this belong to JRR Tolkien except for Anariel and Arador II before he grows up. The plot is also mine.
A/N: This is by far the most unusual plot I have ever come up with. It came to me while I was listening to the song 'Simon' by Lifehouse. Your basic long-lost-sibling fic but with a twist. By the way, I know that the MoS was actually a black Numenorean but this is AU (Alternate Universe). Also I state in the text that he replaced the last one which means that the MoS isn't immortal, every time he dies a new one is chosen. Enjoy! :D
______________
Account of the Death of Arathorn II and Kidnapping of Arador II
Arador I was still king of the Dúnedain when at the age of 47, in the year 2920, his son Arathorn II was wed to Anariel, elder daughter of Dírhael. The marriage was short lived, for a year after they were wed Anariel died giving birth to Arador II, heir to the Dúnedain. For nine years Arathorn raised his son and saw to his duties as a prince until in the year 2930 the younger daughter of Dírhael, Gilraen, was married young to Arathorn. She loved her nephew and stepson Arador as if he were her own. Soon after their marriage King Arador I was slain by trolls, making Arathorn II the new King of the Dúnedain and his son Arador II the heir. The following year their son Aragorn II, King Elessar, was born securing the next generation of kings.
It was the 25th day of Lothron when disaster struck the house of Arathorn. Arador II had come to an age where he was to begin his education in the ways of the Rangers of the North. As he and his father rode out, accompanied by 25 men, they were suddenly ambushed by a small party of orcs. The orcs were easily beaten but it wasn't until the battle was over and the last of the survivors fled that King Arathorn realized with horror that his son was nowhere to be seen, nor was his body to be found amongst the dead. So great was his fury at the apparent kidnapping that barely a day had past when Arathorn assembled 100 men as well as the aid of the sons of Elrond to ride out in search of the orc band that had stolen the child away. They soon overcame the party, so fast were the steeds upon which they rode, only to discover a band ten times larger then the one before. During the battle Arathorn II was slain with an orc arrow through the eye. There was no trace of the child Arador.
Gilraen then took sanctuary in Rivendell with her son, Aragorn, where he was raised to eventually become the King of Gondor. Since then the fate of the Arador II has never been discovered.
______________
"He is your brother," whispered the faceless woman quietly in his ear as to not wake the child. The ten year old boy looked up at her in wonderment then down again at the newborn lying peacefully in the cradle. He gently reached out and touched the baby's brow then turned back to the woman in fear that he had done something wrong. The woman smiled gently and nodded, the boy turned back and delicately stroked the baby's face.
"He doesn't look much like Father," the boy commented.
The woman laughed, "Not yet, but someday he will. And someday when you are a man doing great deeds, he will be at your side." Suddenly the baby opened his eyes and began crying. Making gentle shushing noises the woman lifted him from the cradle and began rocking him gently. "Hush, little Aragorn, your father will be home soon," She indicated to a servant that it was time to nurse the baby and the boy was led from the room.
______________
The clash of battle woke the Mouth of Sauron from his reverie. Below him on the field that tides of war swept back and forth between the armies of the West and those of Mordor. Crimson fountains erupted where men and orcs alike fell beneath each other's blades. At the back of their company he could see the White Fool, called Gandalf, watching from afar; at his side stood the self-proclaimed King of Gondor. The Mouth of Sauron sneered to himself. The fools still thought they had a chance against Sauron the Great. The inspiration they gained upon slaying the Witch King failed under their horror at seeing their spy's possessions in his grasp. A shiver of pleasure flowed down his spine as he remembered how their faces had gone gray with horror and even the great Istari had quailed. His mood darkened again with the memory of the humiliation that followed.
The fighting was coming to a fevered pitch and the Mouth of Sauron cursed that he was not among them, feeling the blood-lust rising. He barked a command for his horse to be brought. While the remaining orcs ran fearfully to and fro he contemplated the day-dream that had just visited itself upon him.
Only a few times since he had first replaced the old Mouth of Sauron nearly 80 years ago had he had that dream. It played with him, tugging at his memory as if it was trying to make itself heard yet something stood in the way. He felt that he should know the woman and the child and the father... sometimes he could almost picture the father, his black hair flying free in the wind, his gray eyes flashing. Yet parts of the dream eluded him. What had been the name of the child? Why could he not remember the mother's face?
He could remember having no other identity except the Mouth of Sauron. But why? Even the meanest goblin had its own name, its own identity yet he was but a continuation of an office. He shook his head angrily. Such thoughts had not entered his head in decades and he would not allow them to here, on the very day of their victory.
A man, one of the line of the Black Numenoreans, came with the fell horse in hand. The Mouth grabbed its halter viciously and swung himself astride, the horse reared. He dug the iron spurs hard into its side and charged for the open gate, singing of blood and victory as he rode.
________________
At the back of his own army Aragorn also realized the battle was reaching its peak, and the tides were turning against them. Sparing Gandalf a glance over his shoulder he brandished Andúril and rode into the fray.
_________________
That was the first chapter of this fic. Is the Mouth of Sauron really Aragorn's half-brother? Will either of them find out? Stay tuned for more! Oh, and please review. This is my first LotR fic and I need a reason to continue this fic. I hate to say this but it's gonna take at least five before I get another chapter up.
Disclaimer: All the characters in this belong to JRR Tolkien except for Anariel and Arador II before he grows up. The plot is also mine.
A/N: This is by far the most unusual plot I have ever come up with. It came to me while I was listening to the song 'Simon' by Lifehouse. Your basic long-lost-sibling fic but with a twist. By the way, I know that the MoS was actually a black Numenorean but this is AU (Alternate Universe). Also I state in the text that he replaced the last one which means that the MoS isn't immortal, every time he dies a new one is chosen. Enjoy! :D
______________
Account of the Death of Arathorn II and Kidnapping of Arador II
Arador I was still king of the Dúnedain when at the age of 47, in the year 2920, his son Arathorn II was wed to Anariel, elder daughter of Dírhael. The marriage was short lived, for a year after they were wed Anariel died giving birth to Arador II, heir to the Dúnedain. For nine years Arathorn raised his son and saw to his duties as a prince until in the year 2930 the younger daughter of Dírhael, Gilraen, was married young to Arathorn. She loved her nephew and stepson Arador as if he were her own. Soon after their marriage King Arador I was slain by trolls, making Arathorn II the new King of the Dúnedain and his son Arador II the heir. The following year their son Aragorn II, King Elessar, was born securing the next generation of kings.
It was the 25th day of Lothron when disaster struck the house of Arathorn. Arador II had come to an age where he was to begin his education in the ways of the Rangers of the North. As he and his father rode out, accompanied by 25 men, they were suddenly ambushed by a small party of orcs. The orcs were easily beaten but it wasn't until the battle was over and the last of the survivors fled that King Arathorn realized with horror that his son was nowhere to be seen, nor was his body to be found amongst the dead. So great was his fury at the apparent kidnapping that barely a day had past when Arathorn assembled 100 men as well as the aid of the sons of Elrond to ride out in search of the orc band that had stolen the child away. They soon overcame the party, so fast were the steeds upon which they rode, only to discover a band ten times larger then the one before. During the battle Arathorn II was slain with an orc arrow through the eye. There was no trace of the child Arador.
Gilraen then took sanctuary in Rivendell with her son, Aragorn, where he was raised to eventually become the King of Gondor. Since then the fate of the Arador II has never been discovered.
______________
"He is your brother," whispered the faceless woman quietly in his ear as to not wake the child. The ten year old boy looked up at her in wonderment then down again at the newborn lying peacefully in the cradle. He gently reached out and touched the baby's brow then turned back to the woman in fear that he had done something wrong. The woman smiled gently and nodded, the boy turned back and delicately stroked the baby's face.
"He doesn't look much like Father," the boy commented.
The woman laughed, "Not yet, but someday he will. And someday when you are a man doing great deeds, he will be at your side." Suddenly the baby opened his eyes and began crying. Making gentle shushing noises the woman lifted him from the cradle and began rocking him gently. "Hush, little Aragorn, your father will be home soon," She indicated to a servant that it was time to nurse the baby and the boy was led from the room.
______________
The clash of battle woke the Mouth of Sauron from his reverie. Below him on the field that tides of war swept back and forth between the armies of the West and those of Mordor. Crimson fountains erupted where men and orcs alike fell beneath each other's blades. At the back of their company he could see the White Fool, called Gandalf, watching from afar; at his side stood the self-proclaimed King of Gondor. The Mouth of Sauron sneered to himself. The fools still thought they had a chance against Sauron the Great. The inspiration they gained upon slaying the Witch King failed under their horror at seeing their spy's possessions in his grasp. A shiver of pleasure flowed down his spine as he remembered how their faces had gone gray with horror and even the great Istari had quailed. His mood darkened again with the memory of the humiliation that followed.
The fighting was coming to a fevered pitch and the Mouth of Sauron cursed that he was not among them, feeling the blood-lust rising. He barked a command for his horse to be brought. While the remaining orcs ran fearfully to and fro he contemplated the day-dream that had just visited itself upon him.
Only a few times since he had first replaced the old Mouth of Sauron nearly 80 years ago had he had that dream. It played with him, tugging at his memory as if it was trying to make itself heard yet something stood in the way. He felt that he should know the woman and the child and the father... sometimes he could almost picture the father, his black hair flying free in the wind, his gray eyes flashing. Yet parts of the dream eluded him. What had been the name of the child? Why could he not remember the mother's face?
He could remember having no other identity except the Mouth of Sauron. But why? Even the meanest goblin had its own name, its own identity yet he was but a continuation of an office. He shook his head angrily. Such thoughts had not entered his head in decades and he would not allow them to here, on the very day of their victory.
A man, one of the line of the Black Numenoreans, came with the fell horse in hand. The Mouth grabbed its halter viciously and swung himself astride, the horse reared. He dug the iron spurs hard into its side and charged for the open gate, singing of blood and victory as he rode.
________________
At the back of his own army Aragorn also realized the battle was reaching its peak, and the tides were turning against them. Sparing Gandalf a glance over his shoulder he brandished Andúril and rode into the fray.
_________________
That was the first chapter of this fic. Is the Mouth of Sauron really Aragorn's half-brother? Will either of them find out? Stay tuned for more! Oh, and please review. This is my first LotR fic and I need a reason to continue this fic. I hate to say this but it's gonna take at least five before I get another chapter up.