Disclaimer - I don't own the Fate serie or Lord of the Rings, they all belong respectfully to their original owner.
Servant Berserker
Aragorn was known by many names such as son of Arathorn, Elessar descendant of Isildur and heir to the throne of Gondor, Estel adoptive son of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, ranger of the North under the name of Strider and Chieftains of the Dúnedain. He had always believed that he was not worthy of claiming the throne of Gondor, despite he was the last heir of the long lost bloodline of Isildur and had every right to be the ruler of Gondor. Sometimes, he wished that Elrond, his elven foster father, didn't told him his true identity when he was twenty-year-old.
Still, he continued down the path that his destiny had forged for him and hoped that when the time truly came for him to become the leader of a country he would be ready to accept that mantle handed down to him and protect his people. Now, his mission was to make sure the hobbit, Frodo Baggins, who carried the Ring of Power to arrive safely to Rivendell, along with Frodo's companions: Samwise Gamgee his gardener, Peregrin Took (Pippin in short) and Meriadoc Brandybuck (simply known as Merry).
Aragorn was silently guiding the four hobbits to Rivendall, but it was soon be night and the road would be more traitorous. The only place they could rest was the ruins of the Tower of Amon Sûl, the watch-tower located on the summit of Weathertop hill. Aragorn could hear the silent whispers from the One Ring, taunting him about his linage and the failure of his ancestor, Isildur, and telling him that he could prove to be greater than his pathetic ancestor by taking the ring. The ranger ignored its sweet words and focused on his current task, which was to bring the hobbits to safety.
When they reached the great ruins where many battles were fought long before he or the hobbits were born. Aragorn quickly gave the hobbits some short swords, it might not be enough to defend themselves against a Nazgûl, but it would do for now, at the very least they could fight back against some smaller minions of the dark lord.
Aragorn left the hobbits on their own, trusting that they would be careful not to get unwanted attention from unwelcome witnesses like when Frodo accidentally put the ring on in the Pouncing Pony at Bree. While he patrolled around the forest under Amon Sûl with a fire torch to help him get through the thick fog, he got a nagging feeling that something was not right and the words he heard whispered among some traveler in the Pouncing Pony were not good either.
Many spoke of a malevolent power had awakened and they believed it was not Sauron, but something that was as dark as the Lord of Mordor himself. Of course it was only a small rumour, but he found himself began to worry, for the last time he had stopped in one of elven kingdom, the elves were grimed and they warned him to be more careful. For something of greater evil had descended upon Middle-Earth, but what it was, the immortal beings had not a single clue.
'Ah,' hissed Aragorn as he stared as his right hand which had received a small cut from a nearby sharp branch and fresh blood slowly oozed out of the wound. The ranger quickly whipped away the blood and concentrated on his surrounding.
The forest was too quiet. Neither the crickets, nor the any small scavengers were making any sort of sound. It was like the woods were empty of life.
Then he heard it, a few sharp piercing cries that belonged to only one single corrupted race.
Nazgûl. And there's more than one. Aragorn thought as he quickly ran back to the watch-tower, knowing that his charges were in grave danger.
He arrived too late and the Nazgûls were already there. He saw one of the Ring-Wraith plunged his blade on something on the ground, which he could guessed to be Frodo who had wore the ring once more despite his warning. With a fierce battle shout he jumped toward the Ring-Wraith and swept his torch to force the inhuman being to back away before he engaged into a battle of one against five foes.
As a man who was destined to rule a formidable country and had lived for 87 years, he was not someone who could be beaten easily, but against the nine Nazgûls who were fallen kings of old, his capability was literally put to test.
Aragorn was able to burn the robes that held the form of the Ringwraith, but he only succeeded in defeating two of them in this way. When he was about to was about to deal with the third wraith, another wraith came and knocked the torch out of his hand. Without the fire, the ranger knew very well that he had very little chance to save himself or the hobbits.
Though he was in the direst situation, he still fought with great valour and continued to cross sword with his enemies until he was knocked off of his feet when one of the Black Riders had enough of this foolish fight and landed hard of the stone ground.
His grey eyes grew in horror and despair as he watched three set of the same long sword pointed at him. Everything had suddenly slowed down, the hobbits were crying something and the Black Riders were pulling back their sword arm to kill him.
Suddenly Aragorn felt a dull burn on his hand, more precisely the hand that injured just a few minutes ago, and the burning feeling grew stronger, then a bright red light glowed underneath the Ringwraith blinding his sight.
Aragorn brought his hand up to cover eyes when the Nazgûls let a sudden shriek and a loud clash of sword against the ground. When he noticed the red light fading, he put his arm down and looked up in awe and, perhaps, horror.
There standing before Aragorn was a knight in sleek black armour with spikes that covered the person from head to toe, the armour itself gave Aragorn the impression one of the Fell Beast's thick hides. A dark mist kept moving around the dark warrior as if it was alive and was protecting him.
The black knight seemed to be studying him through his helmet and Aragorn locked his eyes onto the red light that was emanating from the visor of the helmet.
The Wraiths were screeching angrily behind the dark knight who paid no mind to them and focused solely on Aragorn and spoke in a, more or less, growling tone, 'I ask, are thou my Master?'
'Master?' Aragorn repeated softly as he watched the knight closely before a sharp pain on his hand distracted him and he saw, in slight astonishment, a crest similar to Arwen's Evenstar pendant was traced upon his hand in blood red.
'Servant Berserker, upon your summoning, I have come forth,' said the dark knight when he saw the crest on the ranger's hand. 'From here on my blade rests in your hands, and your fate rests in my hands. Contract completed.'
At that, the dark knight (Berserker, Aragorn reminded himself mentally) turned his attention to the advancing Black Riders. Berserker did not waste his time and charged head to his attackers. He, with one hand, crushed the gauntlet of one of the riders' hand that was holding a sword in to nothing more than a piece of junk and took hold the weapon.
The Dúnedain thought the Morgul Blade would be reduced to dust when Berserker got ahold of it, but instead of turning into dust, the blade remained and became darker with red veins covered the sword completely.
In an instant, Berserker, with a single swing of the sword he had taken, desimated all of his three enemies at the same time.
He's strong, very strong. Aragorn thought as he stood up from his spot, wondering what kind of being could this Berserker could be and he prayed to Valar that this knight whouldn't act like his name and gone berserker on him or the hobbits or anyone.
For now, the ranger would ignored what had happened in a few minutes short and turned his attention back to the halflings and especially on Frodo who looked like he had caught a cold out of the blue, but Aragorn knew better than that; Frodo was stabbed by a Morgul Blade and if they didn't get to Rivendell anytime soon, Frodo would be turned into Nazgûl.
Aragorn heard Sam asked if Frodo would be alright, he hastily replied, 'He's not going to last long. He needs elvish medicine.'
The ranger quickly picked the wounded hobbit up in his arms and ran, followed by the three fearful hobbits who were sending a look of fear and distrust to the black knight who was following them closely.
Aragorn knew he shouldn't immediately placed his trust to a stranger who had appeared out of nowhere, but at this moment, he was rather glad that Berserket was with him, instead of being against him, Valar only knew what the knight was capable of. Questions and answers would had to wait for now, at least until Frodo was safe from being turned into one of Sauron's minions and they were in Rivendell where his foster-father, Lord Elrond, would be able to give them some protections from the dark lord's evil force.