Aragorn had not seen daylight for he didn't know how long. He'd struggled to keep a clear head and keep track of his surroundings and how many days he'd been in this rat-hole. But it was no use. Between the beatings his captor gave him, his malnourishment, and the thick, dank air in his prison, it was a miracle if Aragorn could even produce a coherent thought.

Horrible dreams plagued his mind, of all the people he cared about abandoning him. He would plead and try to explain to them that it wasn't his fault, but they would not listen. Aragorn would wake from them, sweating profusely, but he could not figure out if they were daymares or nightmares!

He kept trying to think of Alasse, and remember her in detail. Oh, he had her remembered so well in his heart! But right now, seeing her face would've been a very welcoming balm to his wayward mind.

"Here, drink. You need this." His captor said, startling him nearly out of his skin. Aragorn had been so spaced out that he hadn't even heard him come! The guy brought a tumbler of water to Aragorn's raw lips. Aragorn lapped up the much welcomed liquid! It was his first drink in three days! Having been trained as a healer, he knew that chugging down large amounts of water after being so cruelly deprived of it would make him sick, but he was soo thirsty! His captor would feed him nothing, but he did give him water, twice a day, every three days! It wasn't nearly enough, but Aragorn decided it was better than no water at all!

"What day is it?" Aragorn asked in a whisper.

"Oh, it is exactly twenty-eight days till the Feast of the White Seeds." The captor said casually.

"How do you know...about the feast?" Aragorn asked suspiciously. That voice was very familiar, and yet all this time he'd been in here, poor Aragorn had not yet even deciphered who his kidnapper was!

"How do I know? Why, I was there on the day you took the throne!" The kidnapper chuckled. "You still haven't figured out who I am?"

"I know that I know you from...somewhere." Aragorn blinked.

"Ahh, indeed you do. I cannot wait to see the look on your face when you have reached a conclusion!"

"Stop with your games. Why are you doing this?" Aragorn asked contemptuously.

"Oh, come now, my king." The kidnapper grinned. Aragorn stiffened when he heard that phrase. He knew that voice! His mind was racing. It was starting to click for him who this guy was! It was on the tip of his tongue, he could feel it! "Like I've told you before, you are weak. The most powerful human in the West, the greatest king to have ruled Gondor. And what do you do with it? All that power? You squander it on insignificant peasants. Righting the wrongs of the city's criminals, seeing to your subjects every need!

'No, they do not appreciate you enough! Do they know how lucky they are to have a ruler like you? They don't know the half of it! I do!'"

"Vincent Merlyn..." Aragorn breathed in disbelief. Yes, yes, he knew this man. This fugitive had personally served him, in his own palace.

"Your precious subjects do not understand want, true want. Hunger, thirst, oppression, living day in and day out wondering when your next meal will be, or if there is such a thing as a good life."

Aragorn winced. Vincent was a servant in his own palace! He was in charge of the king's wine. He personally served it to Aragorn every night! Vincent had been raised as a child slave across the ocean, till he was brought to the steward of Gondor, as a 'gift' of goodwill for Gondor's continued trading with that continent. Denethor had not cared for the boy at all. But Boromir and Faramir had taken pity on him, and treated him well. They'd given him the role of valet to Boromir. They'd fed him, given him a warm place to sleep, decent clothes to wear, and had never beaten him.

"I know what it's like to grow up, under a tyrant who uses the citizens for his own personal gain. You have that kind of power, and you shy from it!" Vincent finally removed his hood. Aragorn's stomach twisted. It was indeed him! "You could do whatever in the world you want, why don't you? I don't think you appreciate the magnitude of the power you possess. And neither do your people. Well, they are about to find out!"

"So...that's what this is about? Revenge. A personal vendetta of a wrong that was put right, by the sons of the Steward of Gondor." Aragorn stated flatly. "If you ask me, you are the one who is ungrateful and takes your good fortune for granted."

"Mph." Vincent winced. "You see, that is where you are missing the key point. It's not enough! Life owes me a bigger fortune after the hell I was brought up in from a child. The steward's sons, they were nice enough. But that alone could not compensate for a lifetime of starvation and cruelty. Your people will never truly appreciate you, until they have had a chance to sample being completely cut off from everything they hold dear, everything they once never bothered to take notice of!'"

"Vincent, you have become the very person you have hated all this time." Aragorn said firmly, regaining a renewed fire inside him. "These are families, women. Children! Can you really live with yourself, sending them off to what you went through?"

"Yes, I can. Very easily." Vincent said without hesitation. "And once they see what a pathetic king they have given up, they will come crawling to me for protection. To me! For warmth, food, freedom. But they will owe me not appreciating their first king. They will fear me, and no one will dare raise a voice against me! You see, my good man, that is true power."

"No." Aragorn glared at him. "That is greed and lust. Power is found in love, and loyalty."

"Where was it when I needed it? Hmm?"

"It's true you did not receive it right when you needed it. But you did have it, in Captain Boromir and Faramir! How can you toss that in the rubbish heap?"

"It's not enough!" Vincent growled. Without warning, he started punching Aragorn over and over again in the stomach, barely giving the guy a chance to breathe. Then he slugged him across the face, splitting his lip, again! "What was that you were saying, o mighty king of Gondor? About love?" Vincent punched him again. "And loyalty?" And again! "If you are really the grand king, where are your friends now? Why have they not rescued you?" Aragorn slumped against the wall but was still held up by the wicked shackles.

"Oh, hail, King of the West!" Vincent scoffed in delight mockery. "Look at you. You're nothing. Why, you are not a king! You're a pathetic nothing. You're just a ranger, a despised, lowly one of Middle Earth. That's all you are, and that's all you will ever be good for." He kicked Aragorn in the ribs. "O powerful one, save yourself!" Then he kicked Aragorn in the jaw, and laughed. Aragorn knew only one coherent thought right now: pain! He could not defend himself and as much as he hated for the jerk to be right about anything, he was indeed very much alone!

Vincent walked away, sneering. "Oh, and it won't just be the direct citizens I am going to conquer either." He turned his head, smirking at the broken ranger/king. "I shall also bring down Gondor's allies to their knees. And...your beloved elf lady will be an irresistible bonus! She will want for nothing."

"Noo..." Aragorn struggled for breath. "Alasse..."