Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story nor am I trying to make a profit from this story. Characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien or myself. Any direct or indirect quotes will be duly credited.
The moon was but a sliver, barely giving any light to the lone rider who picked his way through the downs. The night breeze was chilly, and leaves fell here and there as the changing season called them to do. Yávië, as the elves called it. Harvestmath. It would not be long before these lands would be covered in snow and difficult to travel. But for now, travel was open, for those who dared.
The North Downs was an uninhabited area: save for unsavory folk and rangers, neither who stayed in one place for very long. Farther north some leagues lay the old fortress of Fornost. Once glorious in its day, it now was in crumbling ruins and blackened by war. It was long thought to be haunted. The rangers knew it was not, but traveling orcs in recent times made it dangerous since orcs could travel nearly unchecked here. Fornost was the largest and most intact, but all across the North Downs were old ruins. Most had all but disappeared as nature claimed back the land, but some were still usable as crude shelters, and others still were just a pile of stone, only a memory.
The lack of light made it difficult to see in the woods, causing the pace to be slowed. In some parts of the downs, remnants of an old road could still be seen. But the path the ranger traveled was only known to himself. Aragorn, chieftain of the rangers, was on a mission of haste, though no one would have guessed it. Coming upon a clearing, he urged the horse to a fast trot.
A few years ago the Rangers had set up a scout for the North Downs as orc activity had increased. The ranger, Padion, was the scout currently and had come up missing when supplies where brought a few weeks ago. No secret marks of the rangers or signs of a struggle were seen, and Aragorn sought to find him, or at least learn his fate. Padion had a family, and even though they knew the dangers of this life, knowledge of his passing at least gave closure. It was critical they found something before winter set in; for then it would be impossible to search. And if orcs were to blame, then that would mean they had traveled farther south than usual, giving cause for alarm... and possibly action.
Aragorn did not normally travel by horse. The horse was on loan from Rivendell since the sons of Elrond brought him one. They had volunteered to help look for the missing ranger; they were also interested in orc activity. Elrohir and Elladan had traveled with Aragorn until a day ago, when they all split off to check different known ranger hideouts to see if Padion was forced to move elsewhere. Perhaps he could leave no warning beforehand of his whereabouts. Up until they split forces, the ranger and the elves had only traveled by day, but now that they entered the downs, they traveled by night to avoid preying eyes.
Aragorn once more slowed his mount, as he approached a wooded area again. He was getting close to Padion's last known location. He trusted the ranger who gave the report of Padion's disappearance to be thorough, but he wished to see for himself. Perhaps he could find some signs in the surrounding area. Aragorn thought back to the last time he saw his foster brothers. They had agreed to meet back in two days. He wished they had decided upon a longer time, for he felt it would not be enough if there was something to be found. But Elladan had been worried about being separated for longer than that, and Elrohir would only side with his twin. So thus Aragorn pressed on faster than he would have liked and hoped to not miss anything in the dark.
Aragorn came upon the ranger hideout, which was not much of anything. A large round slab of stone marked the floor, and a half section of wall with a slight overhang where once there was a roof completed the structure. Vines grew up and over the wall, and grasses were slowly covering the floor. Aragorn dismounted and wrapped his cloak closer to him as the wind picked up. Meticulously he scoured the floor, the walls, and the overhang for any signs. The dim light made it impossible to see in places, and Aragorn cursed. Though the moon was waxing, it would not give sufficient light for a few more days. He wished it was full now.
Aragorn had heard nor seen nothing since leaving the sons of Elrond, so he decided to risk a little light. Quickly he bundled some dry grass tightly together and struck his tinder to them. They provided some good light, but for a limited time. In only a minute the light was out, and he was disappointed not to have seen anything worth risking light for a second time. He decided to attempt to hunt for tracks instead. Otherwise, he would have to wait till dawn and waste precious time.
He went over to put his tinder back in the saddlebag when the horse started to act uneasy. Snorting and sidestepping, the horse would not be calmed. Wary, Aragorn had one hand on the horse's side and one on his sword hilt, looking around and listening. But all his attentiveness was rather in vain, for the darkness was deep and the noises of the wind and the horse covered anything that might have been there. Long minutes passed and the horse seemed to calm somewhat, though still twitching its ears nervously. Aragorn continued to stand still in the same position, remaining alert.
Suddenly something violently slammed into the horse, knocking it off its feet and catapulting Aragorn backward onto the stone dais. His head cracked onto the stone with a sickening sound and Aragorn lay in a daze, immobilized. Darkness started to creep into his vision and he struggled to remain conscious. Fight! Fight for your life! But his body remained unresponsive. The last things he was aware of was the screams of the horse as it flailed on the ground and two red, gleaming eyes in the darkness. Then silence... and he knew no more.
Slowly Aragorn awoke, to exhaustion and pain. He felt drained, and his head pounded. As he became more aware of his surroundings, he realized he was sitting on his knees, with his hands behind his back. Tied. He pulled on his bonds, to find they were tight. It seemed he was tied to some sort of post or pillar. The pulling awoke a strange pain in his shoulders and neck, and he was forced to stop for the moment.
Aragorn looked around at his surroundings. He appeared to be in a cavern. Daylight filtered in sluggishly a few meters away from a hole in the ceiling, giving the center of the room a frail light. Most of the area was still bathed in darkness. Upon further inspection, he realized this was not a cavern, but an old ruin, sunken down into the earth. Crumbled stone peeked through the foliage on the walls, and tiles on the floor were upended from roots. Three pillars of stone rose up into darkness around the room, suggesting a grand height. Each pillar had metal rings at various heights; Aragorn suspected he was tied to such on the fourth pillar. Dark corners and spaces suggested there was more to the ruin than this room. The faint sound of water trickling came from somewhere behind him.
He tugged on his bonds again, seeking a weakness. He tried to twist around to see, but pain and the proximity of what he was tied to prevented him. Someone... or something... put him here. Once more he looked around, peering into the darkness to see if there were clues. The glint of metal told him his sword and possibly his pack lay in the far corner. He could see nothing else definitive. Aragorn sighed and twisted his wrists as much as they would go, testing the bonds once more.
"Long has it been since I tasted the blood of Númenor."
Startled, Aragorn looked up across the room where he heard the voice. He could see no one in the darkness.
"I would have drained you, otherwise. Your blood saved you... this time. Now perhaps I have a chance at redemption. A chance to finally rest..." The voice trailed off.
"Who are you?" Aragorn asked, his heart pounding; thoughts racing.
A bitter laugh.
"Who am I? Even I do not know anymore. Centuries have passed, I no longer remember my name. I only exist, bound to my curse." With this, the owner of the voice stepped out of the darkness enough to be illuminated, but seemed to avoid being directly in the light. Snarling, it revealed fangs; its unnatural red eyes shone keenly. It had the form of a man, but its skin was pale like death.
"The curse of a vampire."
Panic rose as Aragorn pieced together what had happened. He had been attacked...bitten. Vampires had not been sighted in centuries, but the old tales still were told. Terror threatened to overwhelm him as every scrap of a story was recalled, true or not. Aragorn shut his eyes for a moment and steeled his resolve to remain calm. This creature wanted him alive for now, he had a chance to find a way out. He had to be careful, for it mentioned Númenor. What else did it know?
"Vampire... I did not think any existed in the world." Aragorn said.
"Perhaps I am the last of my kind," it shrugged.
"Why are there no more?"
"My 'brethren'," - the vampire said this word with scorn - "long lost their lives in their zeal for Sauron. Or consumed by their bloodlust they became reckless and were slain. The ancient blood rituals were forgotten and Sauron no longer roams the world as he used to," It approached him, hunger in its eyes. "I am getting impatient. Now tell me why Sauron would bid me bring him one like you, or I will finish what I started."
Aragorn took a risk and decided to ignore the threat. "Bade you?"
The vampire's eyes flashed dangerously, but it stayed put.
"Yes, bade me like a master to its dog. I have no love for him, though. Sauron's servants approached me long ago. Told me of his 'request' – more like an order. Any with the blood of Númenor he wanted brought to him for questioning.
'These men are dangerous.' they said. 'Lord Sauron only wishes to quell rebellion before it starts.' Stating it like it was a trivial matter. I knew better. My response was to kill them all. Sauron did not attempt to find me again." The vampire had a far-off look in its eyes, smiling at the memory. Apparently, it found the situation amusing.
Aragorn thought on what was said, and noted that the light was starting the fade. Tomorrow would either mark the second or the third day; he did not know how long he was unconscious. The vampire did not seem wholly an evil monster. It had thoughts and feelings; perchance it could be reasoned with. Perhaps Aragorn could buy enough time for Elladan and Elrohir to find him. Or give him a chance to escape; already his bonds were looser from his constant fidgeting.
"Then give me this, vampire. Tell me why you hate Sauron yet are even now considering fulfilling his request of so long ago. And I will answer your inquiry," Aragorn wagered. The vampire leaned against a pillar, considering the play.
"As you wish. I do not see how this will aid you." The vampire started to pace in agitation. "My hate for Sauron runs deep. I was not always as I am now. He changed me. I was a man... I cannot remember how I came to the forest of Taur-nu-Fuin all those ages ago. Only that it was a mistake. The forest of Dorthonion was now a maze of terror, and Sauron lurked there. He preyed on any he came across, in the form of a vampire himself, hideous and horrible to look upon. But he did not simply drain his victims; he tortured them and disfigured them. And used his terrible power to transform them into vampires to do his bidding." The vampire held his head in hands as if the memory pained him. Aragorn felt pity for the creature.
"I resisted much. But I could not overcome the curse that held me. So I roamed the earth, hiding until I could not resist the bloodlust anymore and only then would I prey. I feast on whatever I can find... animals, orcs, unsuspecting humans. I wish to end my pitiful existence but the curse drives me onward, and I cannot escape it. And so years ago when Saurons's servants approached me my hate caused me to laugh in their face and ravage them apart. Now after so long I look for any way out. Sauron turned me, perhaps he can liberate me."
"Sauron will not save you," Aragorn said matter-of-factly.
With unnatural speed, the vampire moved from where he was to within inches of Aragorn's face, snarling. "YOU do not know, human!" Aragorn showed nothing and met its gaze. The vampire growled and stalked away. The near darkness made it impossible to see where it went.
"You were once a human yourself," Aragorn pressed. Carefully he continued, "Sauron despises those of Númenor for long have they been a pain in his side. Any - man or elf - whom he deems a threat, he wishes dead, for he fears an uprising strong enough to unthrone him. My kind may be diminished, but we still do much work in the shadows against the dark lord. Defy the one you hate, let me go."
The vampire appeared from the gloom and it seemed a battle of wills took place within the creature. It looked so disturbed Aragorn feared it would only retaliate in killing him. Instead, it took one look at him, and then with a poof, transformed into a bat and flew out into the darkness.
Aragorn did not take time to wonder about the vampire's disappearance. Instead, he went to work on loosening the bonds that held him and making an escape. Already they were looser; he felt if given enough time he could be free. Hunger and thirst gnawed at him, and pain distressed him, but survival drove him forward. Laboriously he worked at them for over an hour; the skin around his wrists becoming raw and bleeding. It was somewhat unexpected when a hand suddenly slipped free. Quickly he spun around and worked the other hand out of the rope.
Even though his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and the moon provided minimal light through the hole in the ceiling, Aragorn still stumbled through the dark towards the direction he had thought his sword was. He found the pillar, then felt around. His hands brushed cold steel, and he was glad to feel the familiar weight of his sword as he strapped it on himself. If his pack was around, he couldn't see it. Aragorn did not take the time to find it, for urgency filled him. Who knew how long the vampire would be away, and the vampire had the advantage in the night.
Aragorn stumbled to the light, and paused long enough to asses the situation. Rubble lay from floor to ceiling, and although steep, he believed he could climb out. Grass waved in the wind at the top, tempting his escape. The climb was easier than expected, and freedom soon greeted him with the feel of the wind. But he knew he was not fully free, not yet. Danger was still near. He orientated himself south-east and with protest from his knees, started into a half run through the woods.
He was not exactly sure how long he had been running when he was forced to stop. Exhaustion and pain threatened to overwhelm him. Aragorn stopped to breathe and to figure out his location. Nothing had looked familiar and he had only been going in the direction he thought he should go. For now, he was quite lost until he could see a landmark, or find a hill.
A screech was his only warning, and he cursed himself for failing to be attentive. The vampire materialized in front of him and lashed out with its claw-like hands. Aragorn caught the brunt of it and hissed as nails connected with skin. Almost at the same moment, Aragorn unsheathed his sword in a wide arc. The vampire attempted to roll away but was caught by the tip of the sword on its side.
The vampire snarled and started to pace around the other just out of sword reach. Aragorn stood in battle stance, turning with the creature and keeping his sword between them.
"It seems I underestimated you, human," said the vampire.
Aragorn was not delusional about how this would end. He was weakened; the vampire was like an elf in its reflexes and strong. Dawn was his ally, but Aragorn knew it was many hours away. Only by the grace of the Valor would he make it out of this alive.
The vampire stopped his circling. "The first time was too easy," it jeered. "This time it will be my entertainment to take you down and drink your blood dry!"
It bared its fangs and transformed into a bat, flying away into the trees to disappear. Aragorn twisted around, trying to see it in the dark. The creature reappeared behind him, and knocked the man to the ground, pinning him down. Aragorn's sword and sword arm were trapped beneath him. The vampire bit down on his neck, causing Aragorn to cry out in pain. Using all his might with his free arm, he rammed his elbow into the creature's ribs. It was enough that the vampire let go, and Aragorn rolled out from under and brought his sword back in front of him.
Aragorn jumped into the offensive before the vampire could, hoping to gain an edge. He swung his sword in an attempt to connect to something. But it was too quick and dodged the blow. Again it rushed him with a inhuman speed, and Aragorn had no time to react. It rammed him into a tree, knocking his sword out of his hand and the air out of his lungs. He grappled with the vampire as it tried to bite and claw him. Using one arm he pressed it into the throat of the other to keep it at bay while with his other hand he grabbed his knife. It retaliated by biting his arm and then choking Aragorn. The only thing that saved Aragorn was his knife burying in the side of the vampire.
It screamed and backed off, a feral look in its red eyes. The vampire panted slightly but did not seem overly affected by the wound it now carried. It simply took the knife out and cast it to the side.
"Fool! You cannot kill me so easily!" it laughed mirthlessly.
Aragorn found himself breathing heavily and shaking with fatigue. And the vampire was all too aware of it. It licked its fangs of Aragorn's blood and smiled evilly, knowing the man's end was near.
Aragorn sidestepped to get closer to his sword, and the vampire leaped towards him in an attempt to keep him weaponless. Aragorn jumped onto the ground towards the sword, and after grabbing it, twisted around onto his back to block the attack he thought was coming. Instead, he saw the vampire paused over him, surprised at a sudden arrow protruding from its chest. Aragorn did not take any time to think. He swung his sword in a clean arc and decapitated the vampire's head, ending its existence.
Aragorn dropped his sword, and lay on the ground, too weary to do anything else. He heard his name called, but did not turn to see who it was. "Estel!" Soon Elrohir's face appeared in his line of vision. The elf helped him to sit up, eyes combing the visible injuries. Elladan stood nearby, bow in hand, observing the corpse.
"What was that thing?" Elladan asked.
"A vampire," answered Aragorn.
"Wait till Ada hears about this," Elrohir said, shaking his head in disbelief. "We came looking for you when you failed to show. I see we came in the nick of time. What happened?"
"It jumped me at the ranger camp. It meant to kill me, but somehow knew I was... of a particular race, by the taste of my blood. It then took me to some ruins and thought it could reverse its curse if it gave me over to Sauron, though it did not know my true identity. I managed to escape and got this far before it found me again. Its bloodlust was strong. It would have killed me this time, for certain." Aragorn sighed. He knew he would have to tell the full story to Lord Elrond at some point. Elladan and Elrohir knew they too, would hear the full story in time, and did not press him further.
Elrohir probed the wounds and Aragorn did not stop him, not that he had the strength to protest anyways. "Bite marks, scratch marks. Wrists in terrible condition. Suspicious dried blood on the back of your head... did you suffer a concussion?" Elrohir questioned. Aragorn nodded. "These wounds need to be properly dressed. But not here. We will make our way somewhere safe to camp for a few days while you recover enough for the trip home."
Together, the twins hauled Aragorn up on his feet and supported him.
"I regret to say that I saw no sign of Padion in the short time I searched," Aragorn said.
Elladan shook his head. "Neither did we. Nor did we find signs of orcs this far south. I am afraid his fate will remain unknown. Perhaps...this creature was to blame."
As they made their way from that terrible place, Aragorn looked back at the body of the vampire, reflecting on what it had said of its pitiful life.
"May you finally find peace, son of man," he whispered.