Title: All Shall Fade
Author: Halo Son
Genre: Drama/Angst
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Dun own LOTR, never have and never will, I only own the original charries involved (except Sigil, who belongs to my fab buddy, Middy)
Summary: The war of the ring is over and peace has been restored to Middle Earth.....but not all evil has been vanquished. Someone wants the King of Gondor to suffer and steps are taken to achieve such, but in the gathering dark there is much more under the surface and Gondor may be plunged into a darkness it can never recover from....
A/N: I would like to thank all who reads and replies to this ficcy, you make me very happy *hugsnug* I would also like to thank my imagination for thinking up this plot bunny! XD!!! I would also like to thank by fab buddy, Middy, for helping me with parts of this story and allowing to use one of her original charries, Sigil, in this story.
THE LORD OF THE RINGS
ALL SHALL FADE
BY HALO SON
PROLOGUE
The tavern wasn't light and the rooms within it were filled with black shadows that could trick the unsuspecting, lure them. It was filled with an unsettling eeriness about it and a cold chill that easily ran down people's spines. It was the perfect place for a completely secret meeting and Iramis was glad he had found this place out.
In the fingers of his left hand he twirled around a strand of his long hair, as he usually did, awaiting the arrival of a special person he had arranged a meeting with. He listening carefully, sensing, awaiting.
The night was commonly quiet. Even the owls had kept their silence, as if honouring what would unfold this night. Everything was as it should be. Nothing gave light to the darkness that would take place. It was perfect as Sigil made her way to the tavern.
Cloaked in black, she was hardly what one would call 'unsuspecting', but ... by the looks of the place she just entered, she wasn't the only one. Now... where was he?
He lifted he head slowly, having sensed someone enter the tavern and but sheer feeling alone he knew it was the one he'd been waiting for. Taking something from his pocket he flashed it in a thin trail of moonlight coming from behind him. He watched as his visitor turned her head, gazing in his direction. He smiled and lifted his hand and signalled with the curving of his fingers for her to approach.
It wasn't often she was sought out for her services, Sigil mused as she turned her head. The glare of the light caught her gaze, and then the simple invitation over... yes, this was the one. She made her way over to his table, seating herself quickly before him without asking. "...you asked for me?" Steel blue eyes flashed once, the only visible feature beneath all the cloth, as a mug of ale was immediately set before her by the waitress. She ignored it, though. Drinking would mean removing the mask, and removing the mask was simply not going to happen. "The message said you had a job for me."
Hidden in the shadows, he too was masked by darkness though his sharp dark green eyes were clearly visible. He moved his arm so it continued twirling the same strand of hair between his fingers once more.
"Aye....I do have a job you....if you are willing to accept it."
A tilt of the head, and Sigil was smirking, though one couldn't see it. "I am more than willing," she drawled, "provided the price is right." Her eyes focused on his hand and its annoying activity, then flashed back up to meet his gaze. "Name it, and it's done. You'll find no quarter from me."
"What is the price you are looking for?" He asked, keeping his gaze completely on her, matching her intensity and held a kind of admiration for it.
"1000 a head. Depending on how many, of course," was her immediate answer. Yes, she ran a pricey business, but her service was top quality. She hadn't choked on a job yet, she wasn't looking to start anytime soon, either.
A slow, wide smirk grew on his lips and his fingers stopped fiddling with his hair. Both hands came down slowly upon the table and entwined fingers as he sat up.
"Well....what would you say if I were to pay you 2000 for each person I want you to take care of?"
"Then I'd say you were crazy, but I'll take it." Sigil moved in her seat, effectively crossing her legs and throwing her cloak back over the chair. She folded her arms, assessing this man and his sincerity. 2000 was a hefty sum... either he was desperate, rich, or both, she didn't know. "Whom are we talking about, now?"
The man smirk widened and from his pockets he passed two large pouches that tinkled when dropped on the table in front of her. He nodded towards the two pouches.
"There is the first 2000 of your payment and you will get even richer the more people you kill for me."
He leaned forward, so his voice could only be heard by her.
"Tell me, what do you know about King Elessar?"
Her eyes widened in surprise. She never would have guessed her target would be the King. With the price he was offering, her best guess would have been one of the elven kindred, renowned for their skill and damnable inability to die. Oh, but this was a challenge... and Sigil never turned down a challenge. Her surprised gaze hardened at the thought, and a brow quirked up in recollection.
"Ah... the ever-loved King of Gondor. Elven blood, he has, no? Close friends, family, a country to mourn him." And here she might as well have purred in her delight. "Perfect."
"Perfect you say?" His grin widened even more. "Well....even perfect men have they're enemies...."
He began twirling a piece of hair in his fingers again before he decided to get to the point.
"There are six people in the court of Minas Tirith who are the closest to the king. I want you to kill them."
"That is what I am here for, after all," was her snide remark. "And who might these six be? The Queen? The Prince?"
"Aye, they are two. The others are his steward, the king of Rohan and ally to Gondor, and two personal friends of the king. They all mean very much to him and he would willingly die for each of them. That is why I want you to kill them, starting with his steward; Faramir, son of Denethor and brother to Boromir."
She reached out, quickly snatching up one of the small pouches of gold and clutching it tightly. Ah, what a wonderful weight it held. Gold in her hand, like so much blood, was delightful. She nodded absently, though every word registered in her mind.
Faramir, Steward of Gondor. Your blood is mine... "Consider it done."
He smiled in a satisfied manner and nodded.
"You have made me a very happy man. When you have finished your task, come back here in the same spot and I will give you the rest of what I owe you."
Ominous smirks appeared on the faces of both Sigil and Iramis and here they parted ways, for now at least.
Iramis leaned back against the chair, raising his mug with grim satisfaction.
Soon Aragorn…soon I will have you. Enjoy your peace while it lasts…
With one last swig the remainder of the ale was finished and, like Sigil, Iramis disappeared into the dark of night…
TBC…
Author: Halo Son
Genre: Drama/Angst
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Dun own LOTR, never have and never will, I only own the original charries involved (except Sigil, who belongs to my fab buddy, Middy)
Summary: The war of the ring is over and peace has been restored to Middle Earth.....but not all evil has been vanquished. Someone wants the King of Gondor to suffer and steps are taken to achieve such, but in the gathering dark there is much more under the surface and Gondor may be plunged into a darkness it can never recover from....
A/N: I would like to thank all who reads and replies to this ficcy, you make me very happy *hugsnug* I would also like to thank my imagination for thinking up this plot bunny! XD!!! I would also like to thank by fab buddy, Middy, for helping me with parts of this story and allowing to use one of her original charries, Sigil, in this story.
THE LORD OF THE RINGS
ALL SHALL FADE
BY HALO SON
PROLOGUE
The tavern wasn't light and the rooms within it were filled with black shadows that could trick the unsuspecting, lure them. It was filled with an unsettling eeriness about it and a cold chill that easily ran down people's spines. It was the perfect place for a completely secret meeting and Iramis was glad he had found this place out.
In the fingers of his left hand he twirled around a strand of his long hair, as he usually did, awaiting the arrival of a special person he had arranged a meeting with. He listening carefully, sensing, awaiting.
The night was commonly quiet. Even the owls had kept their silence, as if honouring what would unfold this night. Everything was as it should be. Nothing gave light to the darkness that would take place. It was perfect as Sigil made her way to the tavern.
Cloaked in black, she was hardly what one would call 'unsuspecting', but ... by the looks of the place she just entered, she wasn't the only one. Now... where was he?
He lifted he head slowly, having sensed someone enter the tavern and but sheer feeling alone he knew it was the one he'd been waiting for. Taking something from his pocket he flashed it in a thin trail of moonlight coming from behind him. He watched as his visitor turned her head, gazing in his direction. He smiled and lifted his hand and signalled with the curving of his fingers for her to approach.
It wasn't often she was sought out for her services, Sigil mused as she turned her head. The glare of the light caught her gaze, and then the simple invitation over... yes, this was the one. She made her way over to his table, seating herself quickly before him without asking. "...you asked for me?" Steel blue eyes flashed once, the only visible feature beneath all the cloth, as a mug of ale was immediately set before her by the waitress. She ignored it, though. Drinking would mean removing the mask, and removing the mask was simply not going to happen. "The message said you had a job for me."
Hidden in the shadows, he too was masked by darkness though his sharp dark green eyes were clearly visible. He moved his arm so it continued twirling the same strand of hair between his fingers once more.
"Aye....I do have a job you....if you are willing to accept it."
A tilt of the head, and Sigil was smirking, though one couldn't see it. "I am more than willing," she drawled, "provided the price is right." Her eyes focused on his hand and its annoying activity, then flashed back up to meet his gaze. "Name it, and it's done. You'll find no quarter from me."
"What is the price you are looking for?" He asked, keeping his gaze completely on her, matching her intensity and held a kind of admiration for it.
"1000 a head. Depending on how many, of course," was her immediate answer. Yes, she ran a pricey business, but her service was top quality. She hadn't choked on a job yet, she wasn't looking to start anytime soon, either.
A slow, wide smirk grew on his lips and his fingers stopped fiddling with his hair. Both hands came down slowly upon the table and entwined fingers as he sat up.
"Well....what would you say if I were to pay you 2000 for each person I want you to take care of?"
"Then I'd say you were crazy, but I'll take it." Sigil moved in her seat, effectively crossing her legs and throwing her cloak back over the chair. She folded her arms, assessing this man and his sincerity. 2000 was a hefty sum... either he was desperate, rich, or both, she didn't know. "Whom are we talking about, now?"
The man smirk widened and from his pockets he passed two large pouches that tinkled when dropped on the table in front of her. He nodded towards the two pouches.
"There is the first 2000 of your payment and you will get even richer the more people you kill for me."
He leaned forward, so his voice could only be heard by her.
"Tell me, what do you know about King Elessar?"
Her eyes widened in surprise. She never would have guessed her target would be the King. With the price he was offering, her best guess would have been one of the elven kindred, renowned for their skill and damnable inability to die. Oh, but this was a challenge... and Sigil never turned down a challenge. Her surprised gaze hardened at the thought, and a brow quirked up in recollection.
"Ah... the ever-loved King of Gondor. Elven blood, he has, no? Close friends, family, a country to mourn him." And here she might as well have purred in her delight. "Perfect."
"Perfect you say?" His grin widened even more. "Well....even perfect men have they're enemies...."
He began twirling a piece of hair in his fingers again before he decided to get to the point.
"There are six people in the court of Minas Tirith who are the closest to the king. I want you to kill them."
"That is what I am here for, after all," was her snide remark. "And who might these six be? The Queen? The Prince?"
"Aye, they are two. The others are his steward, the king of Rohan and ally to Gondor, and two personal friends of the king. They all mean very much to him and he would willingly die for each of them. That is why I want you to kill them, starting with his steward; Faramir, son of Denethor and brother to Boromir."
She reached out, quickly snatching up one of the small pouches of gold and clutching it tightly. Ah, what a wonderful weight it held. Gold in her hand, like so much blood, was delightful. She nodded absently, though every word registered in her mind.
Faramir, Steward of Gondor. Your blood is mine... "Consider it done."
He smiled in a satisfied manner and nodded.
"You have made me a very happy man. When you have finished your task, come back here in the same spot and I will give you the rest of what I owe you."
Ominous smirks appeared on the faces of both Sigil and Iramis and here they parted ways, for now at least.
Iramis leaned back against the chair, raising his mug with grim satisfaction.
Soon Aragorn…soon I will have you. Enjoy your peace while it lasts…
With one last swig the remainder of the ale was finished and, like Sigil, Iramis disappeared into the dark of night…
TBC…