Title: Dark Days

Category: LotR FPS

Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas, Eomer/Haldir, Eomer/Faramir

Rating: R

Warnings: Slash/Yaoi, Mpreg, Violence, Death, AU

Summary: The War of the Ring goes strikingly differently when the One Ring is never recovered from the Misty Mountains by Bilbo of the Shire. Now with the enemy forces practically on their doorstep Gondor turns to an old, nearly forgotten allegiance.

Beta: Empath

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and places are property of Tolkien enterprises. All original characters, settings, and the plot of this story are property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work.

Author's Notes: Like half of the things I write, this is inspired by a dream I had (I have strange dreams that often feature recognizable characters). It has, of course, been expanded upon to, hopefully, make more sense than my dream.

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Prologue – Negotiation and Allies

"My lord," Denethor wrung his hands nervously in his lap as he looked across the table at the imposing Elven king. "I am sure that you know this, however I feel I must point out that should Sauron's forces break through our lines their next target will be Mirkwood. Rohan poses them little threat, and Gondor cannot hold out forever if Mordor's forces continue to grow at this rate.

"But I believe that, if the people of Middle-earth work together, we may be able to overcome this evil. Alone, none of us stand a chance, but together we may emerge victorious."

"You do not sound terribly optimistic, Steward," Thranduil replied. "In fact, it seems you have already given up hope for your people."

Denethor shook his head solemnly. "Forgive me, my lord, but you have not seen what my people face every day. We are able to keep Sauron's forces at bay only because he has yet to initiate a serious offensive. He launches small assaults to pick off our scouting parties, knowing that he can create more Orcs faster than we can raise new soldiers.

"Even if Sauron does not launch a large scale attack, Gondor cannot hold out forever. And unless the One Ring is found and destroyed there will be no end to Mordor's resources."

The human had a point, Thranduil was forced to admit to himself. Isolated as they were, Mirkwood had yet to see the true power of Mordor's armies. As of yet, the woods had only been subject to small scouting missions. It was clear that Sauron was focusing his attentions first on the South. And Mirkwood did not have the army that Gondor had. If the men of the West struggled to hold the evil at bay, then Mirkwood would stand no chance when Sauron turned his attention on them.

"What do you suggest then, Steward?" the Elven king queried. "We have our own troubles here, I cannot send all of Mirkwood's forces to the South to fight your battles for you."

"Nay, I would not ask it, my lord," Denethor assured quickly. "At current, Gondor is able to hold Mordor's forces at bay. But Sauron grows stronger, although gradually. We know that our forces will not always be enough. We ask only that you would promise to send aid when King Arathorn requests it."

It was not an unreasonable request, but Thranduil was known for his mistrust of the other races. He had no great love for men, and would never have contemplated an alliance with them had the times not been so dire.

"And what would Gondor give in return for our warriors?" Thranduil asked, leaning forward to rest his arms upon the table that sat between himself and the Steward of Gondor. "What would Gondor offer as assurance that you will not abuse this agreement?"

Denethor continued to wring his hands below the table. Wise and cunning through he may have been, the Elven king intimidated him still. "King Arathorn is willing to sacrifice anything he is able to ensure the safety of his people," the Steward replied.

No immediate answer to this came from the Elven king. Denethor gulped slightly and brought his hands up above the table, laying his palms flat against the wood to keep from fidgeting anymore. "Just now our queen is pregnant with Arathorn's first child. I would be willing to offer an arranged marriage between this child and one of your sons."

Again there was no immediate answer, but this time Denethor remained silent to give the Elven king time to contemplate his offer. Thranduil knew that an arrangement like this would do more than assure mutual aid during hard times. It would be an alliance to last lifetimes.

Thranduil had only sons. Arranged marriages were not uncommon, but to offer a son to marry an unborn child was risky, especially when that unborn child was the first child of a king. There was no doubt that all the people of Gondor were praying for a boy child. But Thranduil's youngest son was still young enough. If the heir of Gondor was born male there was still time to prepare him for such a marriage.

"I accept the proposal," Thranduil replied at length, "But there is one stipulation I would add."

Denethor nodded willingly. It struck Thranduil that the Steward seemed desperate for this alliance to go through. Perhaps Gondor was in more dire straights than he had lead the Elven king to believe.

"I would ask that none of Mirkwood's warriors be called to Gondor until the marriage is finalized."

The man across the table blanched at the suggestion, but quickly schooled is expression back to indifference. "Of… Of course, my lord," Denethor assured. They could always hold the wedding when the heir was still a child. It was not unheard of. But Denethor knew that his king would be loath to put a child in such a position. Perhaps Thranduil was relying on a line of thinking like this to put off the call for troops as long as possible. If that was the Elven king's plan, then it would certainly work.

Thranduil smiled when he heard the Steward's assurance. "My youngest son, Legolas, would be best suited to fulfill this arrangement," he commented. "He is still nearly ten years from his majority. I trust Gondor will be able to hold out for that long."

"We shall do our best, my lord," Denethor replied.

It was only nine years since dark forces had begun stirring in Mordor once more. Three years since Orcs had begun their raids on the countryside beyond the Ephel Duath*. Still only small parties of Orcs ventured into Ithilien, which the Rangers there had been able to fend off. But the outpost of Minas Ithil* was struggling to hold back the constant attacks upon its position.

The threat from Mordor was, at the moment, more of an annoyance than a threat. But there was nothing to prevent the forces of Mordor from growing larger and stronger. It was widely suspected that the small raids were meant only to keep the peoples of the West occupied while Sauron gathered his strength for an all out attack.

It was because of his suspicion that Arathorn II, king of Gondor, sought out aid from the other peoples of the West. Gondor was the first line of defense against the enemy, and Arathorn intended not to allow the enemy to venture any further into Middle-earth.

While the Steward Denethor made alliance with Mirkwood in the North, others were sent to Edoras in Rohan and the Elven realm of Lothlorien seeking similar treaties. Arathorn firmly believed that if the people of the Middle-earth stood together they would be victorious.

To be continued.

End Notes:

Elven childhood lasts for approximately 50 years. During the negotiations for the alliance and marriage arrangement Legolas is 42. It is normal for Elves to marry between the ages of 50 and 100, putting Legolas at prime marrying age by the time his future spouse is old enough to marry.

I tend to have Elves speak in generally rounded numbers when referring to age or the passage of years because of their long lifespans. For example, an Elf who is 1297 years old would likely say that he is 1300, or nearing his 1300th year, rather than using the exact number.

*Glossary:

Ephel Duath: Mountains of Shadow, Western border of Mordor.

Minas Ithil: Sister city of Minas Tirith. Later known as Minas Morgul after its fall.