Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR I am merely borrowing the characters
A/N note: This fic will primarily take place after Aragorn has claimed the ring, but it will have flashbacks to the events leading up to it I hope you enjoy.
I am now accepting unsigned reviews. If you tried to review before I apologize I did not realize I was only accepting signed reviews. I would love to hear from you.
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Kneeling beside his fallen protector Frodo fought not to weep. Uncontrollably his gaze was drawn to Aragorn's left hand and the brightly glowing ring. It had stopped calling to him, but a part of him he did not want to acknowledge still wanted the ring. With closed eyes he dropped his head, his mind going back to that horrible day when the fellowship had been broken. He could still feel the relief when Strider had turned away from the ring and his determination to go into Mordor alone. Then the Uruk-Hai had come, and Aragorn had told him to run. As he fled he could hear the shout of "Find the halfling!" followed closely by pounding footsteps.
Then Aragorn's voice had called out. "And what of Isildur's heir? Would he not make a better prize?"
The footsteps behind him had hesitated long enough for him to take cover, the elven cloak working as it had been made to. He could hear nothing but the clash of swords, but knew he had to obey the ranger's last command to run. To his relief the boats were unattended when he finally reached them. But Sam had joined him, making his desperate journey almost bearable. Then came Shelob and the poison and Sam's rescue attempt. They had been so close, and then came the Uruk-hai- messengers of Saruman. Bitterly he regretted his hurry to make Sam return the ring to him. His only consolation being that the orcs had not known of the gardener's presence and so had left Sam after recapturing him. Mostly he was unconscious for the journey to Barad-dur. His first clear memory was of the dungeon. And of the cold voice and even colder chill in theair. "I have brought you company." Frodo had forced his head up and nearly cried out in horror. Aragorn was chained to the wall. His arms bearing all his weight as his legs seemed unable to support him. He was covered in bruises and lash marks. But at the words Aragorn had raised his head. At the sight of Frodo his eyes had closed in momentary defeat. It was only for a moment; quickly he looked to the Dark Lord, eyes blazing defiantly. "You will break," the Dark Lord had vowed to the ranger. "Chain him," he ordered his orcs before storming out of the cell.
Frodo had found himself roughly chained with his arms over his head and his feet together. With only a few parting blows the creatures had left, but not without each taking a swing and the bound future king. "I am sorry," Frodo made himself say, afraid to face the man.
"There is nothing to be sorry for," Aragorn replied with the same affection and friendship he had always shown in his unusually weak voice. "You tried, that was all any of us could ask." Closing his eyes he seemed to fight back the pain. "The others?"
Forcing him to meet the ranger's eyes he had shaken his head. "I do not know, only Sam traveled with me beyond Parth Galen. I only hope he is okay."
"I am sure he is," Aragorn answered his confidence and belief transferring to Frodo. For a few minutes he was silent. "Frodo," his voice and eyes held a desperation that Frodo had never though to see. "I need you to do something for me. You need to break."
Unable to believe what he was hearing Frodo searched his friend's eyes. "Aragorn."
"No," again that hint of desperation before his usual air of confidence took over. "I can not do it, but you can. Sauron will never let us die or go."
A new horror washing over him Frodo had nodded. Not that that was a hard thing to fake in the timeless period that followed. Frodo had no idea how long he had been locked up with only the orcs and their occasional sadistic pleasure to pass the time. After the first day Aragorn spoke little, apparently trying to conserve his strength. The orcs took great pleasure in torturing the ranger to make him cry out, but he never did. He never did.
After an eternity the door opened and the Dark Lord entered with the nazgul just behind him. His eyes were drawn to the elven chain around Sauron's neck bearing the ring. It was still calling to him. "Your pitiful allies have arrived. It is time for you to see the true power of the One Ring." His cold gaze raked over them both.
Frodo bowed his head. Knowing time was almost up Frodo allowed himself to be dragged forward, not even attempting to fight his captors. To his surprise the nazgul did not have the same paralyzing affect on him that they had always had before. Looking out at the army of Light he felt a rare surge of hope, but, they looked unbeatable and, best of all, Sam was at Gandalf's side. When the dark lord knocked Aragorn to the ground he barely felt a thing. The only thing that penetrated was the fact that his guards had released him, although they still stood to either side of him watching the unfolding drama intently. After all, what risk was a small, cowed hobbit? Forcing his lethargy aside Frodo turned his own attention to Sauron. Having taken Aragorn out of the picture for the moment he turned back to Frodo's friends.
"But first witness the power of the one ring!"
Knowing that this was his last chance Frodo sprang forward, his eyes and mind locked on the small circlet of gold that called to him. Somehow he managed to grab it and felt himself fall to the ground. His! He was the master again. No, a small part of his mind cried out. This is not for you.
"Frodo!"
Response to the call was immediate. Strider would know what to do. He could handle the responsibility. Not giving him time to think he rolled, aiming a perfect throw to the ranger. Closing his eyes in loss and defeat he felt the ring accept a master that was not he. A small part of him cried out in horror as he felt the darkness roll over him, but he was unable to make himself respond or move.
His enslavement was over. Forcing his eyes open he rose to kneel over the fallen future king. Aragorn had once again saved him. It was now easy to ignore the small bit of hatred that someone else had claimed his ring. Relief washed through him. For him it was over. As running feet joined them he realized that for Strider the horror was only beginning.
