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Power in the Shadows
(This one has nothing to do with my other Legolas FanFictions)
Type: Legolas Fic
Rating: R (Graphic war scenes; Inhumane Punishments)
Copyright: I don't own most of this.
Archive: I would be honored :)
Summary: AU-NO RING- Men and Elves in a battle for power, but there is an evil that manipulates the war in the shadows. Can Men and Elves stop the ultimate source of power? Or will the war destory them all?
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Chapter 19
Powerless
Aragorn, son of Arathorn lay on the bed that was in his chambers. He was disappointed about last attack on Lothlorien, which turned to a waste of men.
Why had his life turned to so much loss? Aragorn sometimes feared to even touch something because he always ended up losing it.
He remembered the long ago, when his father was on his deathbed. His father was clutching to his hand, hurting so bad... and there was nothing Aragorn to do about it... he was powerless...
Aragorn's true fears were to be powerless. Not being able to help someone he wanted, or do something that was the right thing because he didn't hold the power scared him. That is why Aragorn never has given in to love. If his love were to fall ill or die... he would be powerless...
There were so many joys of life that Aragorn would never experience as long as he feared this, and he would never be whole.
Aragorn sat up from his bed and decided to check with Boromir. He left his chambers and walked to the throne room of the fort. Boromir could normally be found there, pondering over maps or plotting new was strategies. Aragorn had predicted right. Boromir was sitting at a table, studying a map. Boromir soon noticed Aragorn and stood from his seat.
"My king," Boromir said. "Do you wish something of me?"
"Yes," Aragorn replied. "I've been plotting another attack over less... protected... areas."
"And where is this place?" Boromir asked.
"In a place called Rivendell," Aragorn replied with a evil grin. "But first I think we should send some men to observe the area."
"Yes," Boromir replied. "That would be best."
"Send them as soon as you possibly can, Boromir," Aragorn said, walking closer to him. "We need to move fast. I am not sure if the elves will retaliate from our attack on Lothlorien."
"Yes, milord," Boromir agreed. "I shall do this at once. I will also accompany them to make sure things go well."
"Good," Aragorn replied, but grabbed Boromir's shoulder on his way out. "But don't fail me, Boromir. I will not be able to accept more failure from you."
Boromir then left the throne room and left for one of the resting rooms for soldiers. He had to pick his men carefully... he couldn't fail this time. He had already lied to his King about the last outcome, but he was not about to admit that a female elf had managed to stab him and escape to tell the tale.
He walked in and all the men stood in a line, depending on which side of the room they were resting. Boromir chose his men, taking everything into consideration, and then he left immediately on horseback, heading to the kingdom of Rivendell.
Back into the throne room, Aragorn had sat in his throne as soon as Boromir left. Aragorn was sliding his fingers down his beard, thinking over his attack on Rivendell. Had he made the right decision by attacking? Is this really what he needed to do?
"It is right," Aragorn assured himself. "I will not let those beasts recover in time for our next attack. We must attack swiftly and continuously until the final battle."
Aragorn then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and pacing his head in his hands. The surge of being powerless flooded his mind again. He wouldn't be able to do anything to be able to control this war, no matter how hard he believed it. War was not meant to be controlled, only fought.
He could not save his father, his mother, or anything else that had been important to him in the past. Why did he have to suffer like this? Why couldn't he be happy? What had he done that was bad enough to make him cry at nights, and be so ashamed that a man like him would do such a thing.
Aragorn then squeezed his hands together, putting pressure on his head... and there he weeped.
He was powerless...
(A/N: I'm not to happy with this chapter... so thats why it's not very long. On a side note, I have been trying to find archives to put my work in. So far I have submitted to three.
Henneth Annûn - http://www.henneth-annun.net/
I submitted my story for reviewing. There policy is that all the owners of the archive either give the story a yes or no, and the majority decides whether you make it into the archive or not. I'm still waiting for a repsonse.
Hidden Archives of Middle-Earth - http://www.hidden-archives.com/
Very similar to above, and no reply.
The Trees Remember: The Mirkwood Fanfiction Archive - http://www.helical-library.net/lotr/
DENIED (;_;) because it is rated R... rather stupid rule if you ask me! But oh well, I wasn't dying to be in the archive anyways. I would rather been in the two above than any.
Well... if you have any suggestions for other places to try, I would gratefully excpet them!)
Power in the Shadows
(This one has nothing to do with my other Legolas FanFictions)
Type: Legolas Fic
Rating: R (Graphic war scenes; Inhumane Punishments)
Copyright: I don't own most of this.
Archive: I would be honored :)
Summary: AU-NO RING- Men and Elves in a battle for power, but there is an evil that manipulates the war in the shadows. Can Men and Elves stop the ultimate source of power? Or will the war destory them all?
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Chapter 19
Powerless
Aragorn, son of Arathorn lay on the bed that was in his chambers. He was disappointed about last attack on Lothlorien, which turned to a waste of men.
Why had his life turned to so much loss? Aragorn sometimes feared to even touch something because he always ended up losing it.
He remembered the long ago, when his father was on his deathbed. His father was clutching to his hand, hurting so bad... and there was nothing Aragorn to do about it... he was powerless...
Aragorn's true fears were to be powerless. Not being able to help someone he wanted, or do something that was the right thing because he didn't hold the power scared him. That is why Aragorn never has given in to love. If his love were to fall ill or die... he would be powerless...
There were so many joys of life that Aragorn would never experience as long as he feared this, and he would never be whole.
Aragorn sat up from his bed and decided to check with Boromir. He left his chambers and walked to the throne room of the fort. Boromir could normally be found there, pondering over maps or plotting new was strategies. Aragorn had predicted right. Boromir was sitting at a table, studying a map. Boromir soon noticed Aragorn and stood from his seat.
"My king," Boromir said. "Do you wish something of me?"
"Yes," Aragorn replied. "I've been plotting another attack over less... protected... areas."
"And where is this place?" Boromir asked.
"In a place called Rivendell," Aragorn replied with a evil grin. "But first I think we should send some men to observe the area."
"Yes," Boromir replied. "That would be best."
"Send them as soon as you possibly can, Boromir," Aragorn said, walking closer to him. "We need to move fast. I am not sure if the elves will retaliate from our attack on Lothlorien."
"Yes, milord," Boromir agreed. "I shall do this at once. I will also accompany them to make sure things go well."
"Good," Aragorn replied, but grabbed Boromir's shoulder on his way out. "But don't fail me, Boromir. I will not be able to accept more failure from you."
Boromir then left the throne room and left for one of the resting rooms for soldiers. He had to pick his men carefully... he couldn't fail this time. He had already lied to his King about the last outcome, but he was not about to admit that a female elf had managed to stab him and escape to tell the tale.
He walked in and all the men stood in a line, depending on which side of the room they were resting. Boromir chose his men, taking everything into consideration, and then he left immediately on horseback, heading to the kingdom of Rivendell.
Back into the throne room, Aragorn had sat in his throne as soon as Boromir left. Aragorn was sliding his fingers down his beard, thinking over his attack on Rivendell. Had he made the right decision by attacking? Is this really what he needed to do?
"It is right," Aragorn assured himself. "I will not let those beasts recover in time for our next attack. We must attack swiftly and continuously until the final battle."
Aragorn then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and pacing his head in his hands. The surge of being powerless flooded his mind again. He wouldn't be able to do anything to be able to control this war, no matter how hard he believed it. War was not meant to be controlled, only fought.
He could not save his father, his mother, or anything else that had been important to him in the past. Why did he have to suffer like this? Why couldn't he be happy? What had he done that was bad enough to make him cry at nights, and be so ashamed that a man like him would do such a thing.
Aragorn then squeezed his hands together, putting pressure on his head... and there he weeped.
He was powerless...
(A/N: I'm not to happy with this chapter... so thats why it's not very long. On a side note, I have been trying to find archives to put my work in. So far I have submitted to three.
Henneth Annûn - http://www.henneth-annun.net/
I submitted my story for reviewing. There policy is that all the owners of the archive either give the story a yes or no, and the majority decides whether you make it into the archive or not. I'm still waiting for a repsonse.
Hidden Archives of Middle-Earth - http://www.hidden-archives.com/
Very similar to above, and no reply.
The Trees Remember: The Mirkwood Fanfiction Archive - http://www.helical-library.net/lotr/
DENIED (;_;) because it is rated R... rather stupid rule if you ask me! But oh well, I wasn't dying to be in the archive anyways. I would rather been in the two above than any.
Well... if you have any suggestions for other places to try, I would gratefully excpet them!)