Hello! I hope you all enjoy my first attempt at a LOTR fanfic =)

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING from the books or movies. This was purely for fun.

The Strength of Men

The ring was calling to him, whispering to him, promising great yet terrible things. Great because it promised the things that his heart most desperately wanted to hear, to believe.

It had been tempting him for days...weeks even. Promising him victory against the Dark Lord and his forces. Promising peace for the realms of men and all the other lands of Middle Earth, an end to struggle and violence. And he so greatly wanted it to be so. He could see the toll that the war as taking on the peoples of the land. He could see the despair and weariness in the faces of the four hobbits that traveled with him. And his heart ached for them, hobbits were the most resilient, most light hearted beings he had met, and it was cruel to see their spirits breaking so.

But there were more selfish desires. The ring saw them and spoke of them gently, seductively. It would give him Arwen. She could be his if only he would take the ring. He wouldn't have to wait for the fulfillment of the stipulation Elrond had set. He needn't wait to be crowned to take his bride.

And yet it was terrible, because he knew the ring spoke falsely. Everything it promised was a deception, a trick to bring it that much closer to its one true master. And still he found his will tested as it tempted him day and night for weeks on end as it whispered low and seductively to his mind. It was all he could do to push the thoughts away.

But now it was being offered freely to him.

It was held out before him in the shaking hand of a hobbit. He would give it to him if that was his wish. Wanting nothing more then to be free of its crushing weight.

Aragorn's face was full of longing as the ring called to him, yet stronger then it had before. It knew that the hearts of Men were easily swayed, and so it sought to corrupt.

But Aragorn also knew all to well the corruptibility of Men. For was it not his own ancestor who first gave in to the whispering, corrupting, voice of the ring? Who decided, against the advice of Lord Elrond, to keep it as an heirloom?

And so his expression turned grim, though his eyes remained soft and gentle, only a slight hardness to them. He kneeled down in front of Frodo, his eyes filling with sorrow as he gazed up at the once merry hobbit. His hand gently closed over Frodo's, causing the hobbits own fingers to curl around the ring. Aragorn wouldn't bend like so many before had, would not give in to the rings evil temptations. He would prove to the world that Men were strong. They could fight the will of the ring if they so chose.

But mostly he would prove to himself that Isildur's fate was not his own. He would do what his ancestor could not...he would let the ring go.

"I would have gone with you to the end." He spoke softly.

Frodo smiled a soft, weary smile. The weight of the burden he carried etched in every line on his face. "I know." His voice just as soft as the ranger's.

And then he was gone, leaving the future King of Men alone to think on his small victory.

I hope you enjoyed it, short though it was.

Velvet~