This is my first EVER attempt at Lord of the Rings fic. Please excuse any discrepencies. I did take a few poetic licenses, as listed below. I accept all criticisms and comments. This is being written for a literary magazine and will be shortened accordingly. If you have any suggestions, please pass them along. As always, feedback is awesome. Without further ado...
Author's NOTES:
- Haldir isn't dead. I unkilled him. He survived the battle of Helm's Deep. About thirty other elves survived too.
- After the battle of Helm's Deep, Aragorn leaves to rally the support of men in Gondor. Since I haven't read ROTK in quite some time, I can say with some certainty that this does not follow the story line.
- This is also a loose sequel to "For the Sake of One", a fanfic of the Mellon Chronicles, which is a basic Legolas and Aragorn friendship fanbase.
- This also includes a few romantically gestured scenes with Arwen, because I think her character rocks and I love writing for her.
- This is an Aragorn & Legolas fic, with some Aragorn/Arwen references.
----
One Stands Alone
~*~*~*~
Part I
It was darkening sooner than one might expect. The sky had turned the deep grey, the low rumble of thunder in the distance. Winds began to howl, scouring the great forest. The small party of man rushed quickly through the trails. They knew the early darkness and the oncoming storm could mean one thing, that Sauron was watching them.
Strider was beginning to lose his speed. Two days at a rapid pace did not help him, especially since defeating Saruman's forces at Helm's Deep. And carrying the dozen men behind him, the sons of Gondor, he knew they couldn't keep up. They didn't have a ranger's speed.
"Sir ranger," one beckoned him from behind. "We cannot continue on this pace to the villages. We have to set up camp."
Aragorn nodded. "Let the others catch up," he called. "But we must stand guard." He gazed at the evil sky looming above. "There is evil that no longer sleeps in darkness."
It only took the men a few moments longer before they all gathered around the small fires the two men had constructed, providing shallow warmth to the chill raging from the mountains west of Mordor.
As Strider began to prepare the guards, his mind traced back to the events a few days before, when he'd left the Rohan stronghold. Saying goodbye to what remained of the fellowship was difficult. They had all proven their worth in battle. But Eowyn's face remained an echo in his solemn mind. He remembered when he told her he was leaving and she had begged him to stay. It only took a few words to tell her he didn't feel the way she felt of him. He knew by the look on her face that he had struck a nerve, had damaged the fragile shell of hope he'd helped to build up in his fight to save Helm's Deep.
In more ways than one, it had struck him.
Uncupping his hand, he gazed down at the evenstar. Even in the dimming light and cold winds, it glimmered like sunlight. "If only I could speak a thousand words to say..." his words trailed off as the voices of the men behind him grew louder.
"Sire," one of the men came up to him, clasping his shoulder. His voice slurred with the punch of ale, and Aragorn could feel annoyance creep into his usually penitent demeanor. "Who will take the first watch?"
"I will," Aragorn replied. "You and your men get some rest and gather your strength. Tomorrow will only bring more challenges."
"Yes, sire," the man replied, and turned back to his own flock, who cheered and lifted their ale. "To good, kindred spirits!" they chanted.
Aragorn glanced down at the evenstar before carefully hanging it about his neck once again. "If only you knew the perils that lay ahead, you would not be cheerful of the existances you so desire."
As he stood watch, the men behind him began to silence and fall asleep. He took the sounds of the still air as comfort and kept his eyes sharply trained on the woods surrounding them.
--
Darkness still came many hours later. The men trudged on into the shadows of the forests, their torches burning brightly among the tilted leaves and branches.
There was a stillness to the air that disturbed Aragorn. The air seemed to be thick with malice, with something he couldn't quite place. "Sons of Gondor, keep your eyes open," he ordered calmly. "There is more than darkness that lurks in these hills."
The men chanted their agreement and followed him through the rest of the path into the hills of the eastern fjords of Gondor. Onward they pressed into the darkness. Aragorn knew it meant something more, that the sun had never risen. Sauron's hold had taken grip on Gondor. He had seen the last of daylight.
A sound shook him from his reverie. It sounded like birds flying overhead, their caws drowning his thoughts and fears. "What is this evil that you have brought us now, Sauron?" he muttered.
"Lord Aragorn?"
The voice behind him sounded shaky. He turned and faced the frightened, dim faces of the men standing behind. His gaze travelled beyond them, to the shadows lurking in the hills. "It is a trap."
The men turned, panic evident in their movements as they spied the hundreds of shadows growing closer.
"They must have been following us for days," one of the men whispered, terrified.
"To trap us like rabbits," another followed.
Aragorn cast his torch aside, ignoring the flames as they caught on the ground. He pulled out his sword, his eyes fixed on the growing expanses of orcs closing in on them.
"To Gondor."
Author's NOTES:
- Haldir isn't dead. I unkilled him. He survived the battle of Helm's Deep. About thirty other elves survived too.
- After the battle of Helm's Deep, Aragorn leaves to rally the support of men in Gondor. Since I haven't read ROTK in quite some time, I can say with some certainty that this does not follow the story line.
- This is also a loose sequel to "For the Sake of One", a fanfic of the Mellon Chronicles, which is a basic Legolas and Aragorn friendship fanbase.
- This also includes a few romantically gestured scenes with Arwen, because I think her character rocks and I love writing for her.
- This is an Aragorn & Legolas fic, with some Aragorn/Arwen references.
----
One Stands Alone
~*~*~*~
Part I
It was darkening sooner than one might expect. The sky had turned the deep grey, the low rumble of thunder in the distance. Winds began to howl, scouring the great forest. The small party of man rushed quickly through the trails. They knew the early darkness and the oncoming storm could mean one thing, that Sauron was watching them.
Strider was beginning to lose his speed. Two days at a rapid pace did not help him, especially since defeating Saruman's forces at Helm's Deep. And carrying the dozen men behind him, the sons of Gondor, he knew they couldn't keep up. They didn't have a ranger's speed.
"Sir ranger," one beckoned him from behind. "We cannot continue on this pace to the villages. We have to set up camp."
Aragorn nodded. "Let the others catch up," he called. "But we must stand guard." He gazed at the evil sky looming above. "There is evil that no longer sleeps in darkness."
It only took the men a few moments longer before they all gathered around the small fires the two men had constructed, providing shallow warmth to the chill raging from the mountains west of Mordor.
As Strider began to prepare the guards, his mind traced back to the events a few days before, when he'd left the Rohan stronghold. Saying goodbye to what remained of the fellowship was difficult. They had all proven their worth in battle. But Eowyn's face remained an echo in his solemn mind. He remembered when he told her he was leaving and she had begged him to stay. It only took a few words to tell her he didn't feel the way she felt of him. He knew by the look on her face that he had struck a nerve, had damaged the fragile shell of hope he'd helped to build up in his fight to save Helm's Deep.
In more ways than one, it had struck him.
Uncupping his hand, he gazed down at the evenstar. Even in the dimming light and cold winds, it glimmered like sunlight. "If only I could speak a thousand words to say..." his words trailed off as the voices of the men behind him grew louder.
"Sire," one of the men came up to him, clasping his shoulder. His voice slurred with the punch of ale, and Aragorn could feel annoyance creep into his usually penitent demeanor. "Who will take the first watch?"
"I will," Aragorn replied. "You and your men get some rest and gather your strength. Tomorrow will only bring more challenges."
"Yes, sire," the man replied, and turned back to his own flock, who cheered and lifted their ale. "To good, kindred spirits!" they chanted.
Aragorn glanced down at the evenstar before carefully hanging it about his neck once again. "If only you knew the perils that lay ahead, you would not be cheerful of the existances you so desire."
As he stood watch, the men behind him began to silence and fall asleep. He took the sounds of the still air as comfort and kept his eyes sharply trained on the woods surrounding them.
--
Darkness still came many hours later. The men trudged on into the shadows of the forests, their torches burning brightly among the tilted leaves and branches.
There was a stillness to the air that disturbed Aragorn. The air seemed to be thick with malice, with something he couldn't quite place. "Sons of Gondor, keep your eyes open," he ordered calmly. "There is more than darkness that lurks in these hills."
The men chanted their agreement and followed him through the rest of the path into the hills of the eastern fjords of Gondor. Onward they pressed into the darkness. Aragorn knew it meant something more, that the sun had never risen. Sauron's hold had taken grip on Gondor. He had seen the last of daylight.
A sound shook him from his reverie. It sounded like birds flying overhead, their caws drowning his thoughts and fears. "What is this evil that you have brought us now, Sauron?" he muttered.
"Lord Aragorn?"
The voice behind him sounded shaky. He turned and faced the frightened, dim faces of the men standing behind. His gaze travelled beyond them, to the shadows lurking in the hills. "It is a trap."
The men turned, panic evident in their movements as they spied the hundreds of shadows growing closer.
"They must have been following us for days," one of the men whispered, terrified.
"To trap us like rabbits," another followed.
Aragorn cast his torch aside, ignoring the flames as they caught on the ground. He pulled out his sword, his eyes fixed on the growing expanses of orcs closing in on them.
"To Gondor."
