Chapter One
Aragorn sat on his throne, gazing into the distance. The room was cold and nearing darkness, as the sole window set in the far wall showed the sun dipping over the horizon. Aragorn was tired from performing his numerous duties of the day and as such was severely dreading the hour to come, where he invited the people of his realm to come to him with their problems, so he could attempt to solve them. He was loved by his people and admired by the Dwarves and Elves, but more importantly, according to the free peoples of Middle-Earth, feared by those few remaining Orcs, Goblins and Trolls. Those that were brave enough to venture out of the caves in the far off mountains and try to cross the Anduìn river were instantly repelled by factions of Gondorian soldiers. He sighed, took a breath and called to the guards to let the first person in. As the guards headed off down the hall a sound drifted towards him from behind the massive double doors. It was a metallic thrumming, fluctuating up and down in pitch. Aragorn frowned then leapt to his feet as the thrumming stopped with an almighty crack like thunder accompanied by a flash of blue light which lit up the cracks around the door frame. Before the guards, who had lowered their weapons and were proceeding cautiously, could reach the doors there was a buzzing sound and a click from the lock and they swung open. Silhouetted against the setting sun was a large blue box and standing in front of that in the doorway was a scrawny, bandy man wearing the oddest clothes Aragorn had ever seen. In his outstretched right hand he held a long thin metal tube, silver and orange, with a green tip. He stepped in to the hall and began striding towards the King of Gondor. The guards quickly made up the distance and lowered their spears, halting his progress. The thing that struck Aragorn most of all was that the man, even in the face of the Citadel Guards the best trained warriors in all of Gondor, his face was plastered with a grin that spoke of an innate amusement with the world and everything in it.
"Who are you?" demanded Aragorn.
"Me?" replied the man, tweaking the strip of cloth round his neck, "I'm the Doctor."