A/N: I was goofing off with my friend. The conversation started out,
"Wouldn't it be funny if. . ." You can scream and run away now, because
with me, that never turns out well. Anyway, this was one of the things I
came up with, so I decided to write about it, since I had a lot of ideas
about how to do it. This is AU, ok, AU. Alternate Universe. As in, I'm
changing this and this is what happens. This could, and probably will, get
dark. This is my second attempt at a serious, if strange, fic, so bear with
me.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. You see it, you recognize it, it ain't mine. The plot belongs to me, so do the rabid Orcs and Nazguls who make me come up with stuff like this.
Aragorn swung his sword again. He could only hope that this was working for Frodo. He could only hope the damn Ring would be destroyed. This battle was tiring. He knew he was going to die. He knew it was all going to end. How else could it end? He only wanted Frodo to destroy the Ring, get it all over with. He only wished that peace would be returned to Middle Earth that he loved.
Vaguely, he heard someone scream his name. He turned around and came face- to-face with the Witch King of Angmar. This is it, Aragorn thought. The Witch King was already swinging. He couldn't get his sword up in time to block the blow. He closed his eyes and tried anyway.
Lord Elrond of Rivendell screamed at the Witch King's blade bit deeply into his foster son's body. He continued to scream as Aragorn fell, knwing there was nothing he could do to save his Estel. The blade had gone too deeply and it had power of its own. He heard his sons, Elladan and Elrohir scream as well. How could this happen? Aragorn was so strong. "Estel!" he screamed one last time, in one last, desperate denial. No, was his last thought as the battle ended. Then darkness came to claim him and he abandoned himself to the sweet release of unconsciousness.
No one saw the young man look around and pick up the fallen king's sword and disappear.
A/N: Well, what do you think? Should I continue? I think I will anyway, just 'cuz I'll probably feel like it. Sorry it's so damn short, but oh well. This is the prologue. If I continue, it'll be longer.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. You see it, you recognize it, it ain't mine. The plot belongs to me, so do the rabid Orcs and Nazguls who make me come up with stuff like this.
Aragorn swung his sword again. He could only hope that this was working for Frodo. He could only hope the damn Ring would be destroyed. This battle was tiring. He knew he was going to die. He knew it was all going to end. How else could it end? He only wanted Frodo to destroy the Ring, get it all over with. He only wished that peace would be returned to Middle Earth that he loved.
Vaguely, he heard someone scream his name. He turned around and came face- to-face with the Witch King of Angmar. This is it, Aragorn thought. The Witch King was already swinging. He couldn't get his sword up in time to block the blow. He closed his eyes and tried anyway.
Lord Elrond of Rivendell screamed at the Witch King's blade bit deeply into his foster son's body. He continued to scream as Aragorn fell, knwing there was nothing he could do to save his Estel. The blade had gone too deeply and it had power of its own. He heard his sons, Elladan and Elrohir scream as well. How could this happen? Aragorn was so strong. "Estel!" he screamed one last time, in one last, desperate denial. No, was his last thought as the battle ended. Then darkness came to claim him and he abandoned himself to the sweet release of unconsciousness.
No one saw the young man look around and pick up the fallen king's sword and disappear.
A/N: Well, what do you think? Should I continue? I think I will anyway, just 'cuz I'll probably feel like it. Sorry it's so damn short, but oh well. This is the prologue. If I continue, it'll be longer.