Disclaimer: as usual, Tolkien's characters belong to... Tolkien (d'oh!), the others are mine ;-)

RING
Prolog: Memories for the Future

The room was dark. The only window in the thick stony was revealing a forest in night-time. The only source of light in that room, a candle with a flickering flame, allowed to distinguish a human shape, leant on a table where some parchmins were laying in a chaotic pattern.

Aragorn was staring at the parchmin sheet before him. He couldn't figure out the time that had flown since he had taken this eagle feather in his hand. He seemed reluctant to put words on the paper. And yet... Yet, people had to know. There ought to besomeone after his death to know, remember, and spread the names of forgotten heroes and old times follies.


'This world had to change, soon or late. Yet the events that followed the war of the One Ring lead to other terrors. And in my turn, I'll soon be taken away.'

Aragorn read again his last sentence. Written down on the parchmin, it seemed to seal what he refused to admit. He was reaching the end of his life. He could feel his strengths leaving him. But he first had to write down his memories before falling asleep for one last time. It was going to be a long night, he thought. A very long night...

'The destruction of the One Ring in the Mount Doom wasn't the end...'

'But I am a little bit too far in the story...'

'For everything started before the destruction of the One Ring...'

He paused, then felt melancholy and sadeness filling his heart, and he leant again on the parchmin.


This story is about...

He paused, hesitating.

... love.

He went on after a moment. 'The one I loved is...'

Again, he hesitated on the term to use. Everything seemed so confusing in his memory. Then he wrote what seemed to be the most logical word. 'dead...'


'It's in the year 1346 that Sauron made his return in Middle Earths and claimed tham as his. Some years later, his army was so immense that one started to think that no mortal would be able to defeat him.'

'Against his attacks, Middle Earth was diving deeper and deeper into the darkness'

'To counter him, the High-elven counsil of Rivendell decided to create a Fellowship of fighters, whose fate would be to destroy the weapon Sauron needed to conquest the world. The Ring of Power. The Ring to rule all the other rings...'

'The One Ring...'

Aragorn gave himself a break, still wondering if it was not pure folly to reveal everything, as if suddenly he was dreading the way people would look at him beyond the grave...

Then he remembered a particular face. A loved face.

And, as he was putting again the eagle feather on the parchmin, he thought that perhaps.... one day... someone would understand...

[to be continued :-) ]

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A fic I started (in french) on my birthday :p I dunno if the english translation will sound good, but as the french version is already at chapter 3, the continuation in english won't take too long :p