BURIED
By: Cheryl W
Disclaimer: I don't own The Lord of the Rings or anything in conjunction with the Lord of the Rings nor am I making a profit from this story. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: I couldn't wait for Saturday so I'm posting this early. But don't expect to be spoiled like this too often! Unless I get another round of wonderful reviews...then I might just get antsy to post early again.
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CHAPTER 2
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Aragorn watched as the sun made it's first appearance of the new day but the sight did nothing to lighten his heart. He had not slept at all. In truth, he had not even tried. Instead he had remained sitting by the fire, feeding it's needy flames, while his soul was plagued with doubts and new found truths.
Try as he might, he could not justify Elrond's words. With an agony that wounded deeper than any other weapon forged in Middle Earth, he accepted the truth: Elrond had not wanted him...had never wanted him. It was only with the realization that he was the foretold "Hope of Middle Earth" which caused the elf lord to take on the "burden" of sheltering a human child in Rivendell.
Duty alone drove Elrond's decision...not love...never love. A part of Aragorn yelled, 'You should have accepted this truth long ago! You should have seen through Elrond's lie! You should have known that he would do anything to fulfill his duty..even lie...even raise a child and pretend to claim him as a son.'
So consuming was Aragorn's anguish that he did not notice his visitor was also awake, watching him with a glow in his eyes. Aragorn's eyes shot to the other man when Barion made a show of stretching as if he had just awoken.
This man had also garnered some of Aragorn's thoughts. There was little warmth in Aragorn's gaze as he watched the man roll up his bedroll and come to his feet. This man had not brought these letters to him out of any kindness, Aragorn knew that in the depths of his soul. Aragorn came to his feet, leaving only the fire and a few feet separating he and Barion. "What did you seek to gain by bringing these letters to me?" Aragorn growled lowly.
A smile pulled onto Barion's face but it was of a cruel nature. "I have to admit the letters from Elrond are my favorite. So formal, so heartless..just like an elf."
For the first time, Aragorn did not rally to the defense of the elven race or Elrond. He now knew that he owed neither his loyalty. No, instead his thoughts turned to deeper issues, namely to survive this encounter with a man that he had welcomed into his camp. Barion's friendliness which had permeated last night's meeting was replaced this morning by unchecked malice.
His instincts humming with warnings, Aragorn wrapped his hand around his sword hilt, and demanded again, his eyes boring into the older man's, "Answer my question. Why did you give me these letters? Evidently it was not prompted by your tender feelings toward Arathorn's kin."
Barion laughed at that. "You see the truth of the matter... Heir of Isildur."
'Heir of Isildur' was barely said before Aragorn drew his sword. None but those closest to Aragorn knew him by that relation. This was one secret he had learned to guard with his life. Aragorn brought the tip of his sword to Barion's throat but the other man did not attempt to defend himself but calmly stood his ground.
"So you don't even try to deny it?" he mocked with a raised eyebrow as if he found amusement in that. "Will you murder me because I know this truth, Heir of Isildur?" his eyes fearless and his tone bordering on a taunt. "Or do you prefer to be called the 'Hope of Middle Earth.'" Then Barion raised his hands at his side in a sign of surrender to Aragorn's mercies.
Pressing the sword tip more firmly into Barion's flesh, Aragorn snarled, "How do you know this?"
A flash of sadness was evident in Barion's eyes before it morphed into bitterness. "Once I was a trusted friend of your father's. We kept no secrets between us."
This revelation caught Aragorn off guard. He had never contemplated that Arathorn had told someone about his true heritage. Suddenly a spark of betrayal flickered in Aragorn. Were there none that could be trusted...not even the dead?!
Pointedly looking at Aragorn's sword under his chin that now drew blood, Barion prodded, "So to what lengths will you go to protect your secret, son of Arathorn?"
Startled at the damage he was unconsciously inflicting on the other man, Aragorn withdrew his sword but did not turn it from it's initial target. "What do you hope to achieve, Barion, with these letters and your tales of your past with a man long dead?"
Barion smiled and Aragorn felt his stomach clench in apprehension even before the man spoke his next words. "To start with, I wanted to see that look in your eyes." Aragorn narrowed those very eyes as Barion continued, "That pain, that haunted look of betrayal, that lost feeling in your soul. I wanted you to feel what I once felt...what your father caused me to feel."
Revenge. Aragorn had been its victim before, for Isildur, but never for Arathorn. He almost sighed. The longer he lived the more likely it was that all his relative's enemies would try and exact their revenge on him. For the first time, Aragorn cursed the long life of his Numenor blood.
"Revenge?" Aragorn scoffed, bringing his sword again to rest on Barion's throat. "Does your life not warrant a better end than this? Arathorn is dead. When you reach the Halls of Mandos take your grievance up with him."
Barion chuckled, unshaken at the sword that had resumed it's threat to his life. "Oh, truly what a loyal son you turned out to be."
Aragorn flinched at Barion's words for they bore markings of the truth.
"So send me to the Halls, boy," Barion taunted, still keeping his hands raised and his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Anger tore through Aragorn. "You think I am a murderer. Truly you have a low opinion of my family." Pulling his sword from Barion's flesh, Aragorn stepped around the fire to come face to face with Barion. Now no obstructions stood between them. Evenly Aragorn spoke, "Walk away and forget this revenge or draw your sword and let us see to the end of this matter." But even as he said the words, Aragorn had no hope that the other man would walk away. He could see the hatred brimming in Barion's eyes, eyes which were as hard as the jade stones in Aragorn's ring.
Barion nodded as if accepting the terms Aragorn had laid down and pulled his sword. Aragorn, readied his stance for the attack, and watched in rapt fascination as Barion raised his sword in front of him in a sign of respect. Aragorn had never seen this homage to the old ways performed outside a ranger's honorary ceremony.
Caught off guard by such gallantry, Aragorn barely had time to react when Barion, with barely a flick of his wrist, sent his blade angling toward Aragorn's throat. Utilizing his elf like reflexes, Aragorn spun out of reach causing the sword blade to miss it's intended target by the mere width of a stem of a rose. Aragorn, leading his evasive move into an offensive attack, he spun fully around and sent his own sword slashing for Barion's unprotected right side.
Sensing the attack, Barion skittered just out of reach of the blade.
Aragorn did not take up pursuit but waited until the other man faced him again. "It does not have to come to this," he lowly said.
A glimmer of humor sparked in Barion's eyes. "Your father was not so hesitant to deal out death to any that gave him cause. In fact, I think he rather enjoyed the killing."
The ploy was so obvious a boy would have seen through it and Aragorn had long passed the age of youth. No, he knew Barion's taunts sought to impair his rationale amid battle. Many times he had seen the tactic used effectively. Always he had been immune to it...but not today, not this man's words for they were sharper than any arrow head or blade of a sword.
Rising to the man's bait, Aragorn could not hold back his snarl, "Your lies do not even fall from your mouth with ease. Maybe you should have waited another few years to challenge me...when you could lie effectively."
Instead of causing anger in the other man, it generated mirth. Chuckling, Barion replied, "I forgot, you can not detect a lie from the truth. How long has the elf told you he wanted you? That he thought of you as a son? And never did you see his words for what they were: Lies."
This was too new a wound, too deep a hurt for Aragorn and he reacted immediately and recklessly. With a yell of outrage, Aragorn swung his sword to the left, intending to lance a mortal cut across Barion's chest. But with a loud clash of steel, Barion's blade blocked Aragorn's blow mid way.
Applying just the right strength and leverage upon Aragorn's sword, Barion was able to force Aragorn's sword down. Then with unforeseen boldness, Barion removed his sword from the conflict, spun around and brought his blade slashing across Aragorn's left side.
Agony jolted through Aragorn and he instinctively stumbled back from his opponent and Barion let him retreat in peace. Aragorn dropped his left hand to the source of the pain. Unerringly his hand found the sword cut that ran diagonally from his third rib down toward his stomach. Warm blood coated his hand even as his other hand tightened it's grip on the sword hilt. Aragorn's eyes seared into Barion, who stood a few paces away, a smile on his face.
"You will soon be seeing your father, Heir of Isildur. How will you explain to him your devotion to the elf he hated most in this world?"
'Do not listen to his words! Concentrate!' Aragorn demanded of himself as he took two steps backwards to put more space between Barion and himself. He needed to steady himself for the next encounter, needed to shut off his emotions and the pain both of heart and body. The battle alone mattered. And this was a type of battle he had not waged in years...not since he had sparred with his elven brothers. But their intent had never been to take his life.
Aragorn had spent nearly ten years fighting orcs and wargs and men that attacked with no regard for tactics. No, for them, hatred, strength and force was enough to see them through a battle...to take more lives than Aragorn could stand to count. He had gotten use to the blunt fighting of the orcs and he engaged any tactic he could to survive, whether it be blows delivered by his elbows, fists, legs or even his teeth. There was no honor to uphold, no rules to mind, no consequences for employing ruthlessness. Live or die. It was that simple and that brutal.
Unknowingly, he had long since discarded the graceful style of one on one fighting that his brothers had taught him: the subtle moves they had drilled into him, the ways to read an opponent's next move, the seamless flow of his sword strokes that would deflect the most skilled swordsman's advances. This knowledge was buried under the countless battles he had waged as a ranger. There was little grace to be had in his chosen vocation and it never appeared upon a field of battle. But now he desperately needed that grace or he would be meeting his father this day. In the Halls of Mandos.
Steeling himself for the battle to come, Aragorn pulled his left hand away from the wound and used it to beckon Barion forward. The man had given Aragorn a reprieve, a reprieve that spared the ranger's life and they both knew it.
Barion gave a slight nod at Aragorn's gesture and stepped forward, his sword held to the right, ready to be put into motion. "You do not have to stick to the rules of honor as I have chosen to do," Barion offered with disdain. "It seems you prove little challenge to me if you can not behave as if you engage in a battle with an orc. By all means, throw your punches, kick out at me, utilize your gleaming elven dagger. Do what you must do to last at least a little while longer. I have waited a long time for your death and I do not wish it to be over before I can savor it."
Aragorn's jaw clenched in fury but he did not let his emotions dictate his actions, not anymore. Brandishing his sword in both hands, Aragorn waited for Barion to make his attack. He did not have long to wait for the next second, Barion's blade arced for his head. Ducking, Aragorn felt the blade flick through his hair but he didn't contemplate his close call but instead swept his own blade low, satisfaction swelled in him as his blade's tip scored a path across Barion's stomach.
Seemingly oblivious to the wound that scored his stomach, Barion spun around and sent a low cut toward Aragorn but it clashed against the steel of Aragorn's upside down blade. For a moment the men's motion paused as their eyes met with the challenge.
"Arathorn would be disgusted by your swordsmanship. He himself could never best me but at least he had the skill to make me work hard for my victory."
Fueled by the insult, Aragorn uncovered the strength to shove the other man back a step. It was a small opening for attack but Aragorn greedily seized it. Brutally Aragorn swung his sword toward the other man's chest but Barion's blade blocked the blow, though the older man stumbled under the powerful stroke. Initiating the elven like speed he had been blessed with, Aragorn furiously swung his sword left then right then left, driving the man back as their swords met again and again. Still Aragorn relentlessly sent stroke after stroke hoping that the other man would be too slow, just once to block the blow.
Though Barion was forced to falter back against Aragorn's powerful onslaught, his reflexes matched Aragorn's move for move. He was two steps away from being backed into a tree when he weakened his block and angled his sword to the ground. With these slight adjustments, Aragorn's blade did not solidly impact with the steel but instead slide off the other blade toward the ground, causing Aragorn to lose the tiniest margin of his balance. But it would make all the difference in the world.
As soon as Aragorn's sword slide from his own, Barion, seeing the other's vulnerability, took a step forward, thrusting his blade into Aragorn's right side.
A groan of pain spilled from Aragorn as the steel blade deeply pierced his flesh. In desperation and rage, he swept his blade up, intent on removing Barion's head but Barion ducked and sent another powerful stroke aimed for Aragorn's right side.
Aragorn's blade locked with Barion's and Barion pressed forward, hoping to push the ranger off balance. Agony consumed Aragorn as he struggled to not give any ground to Barion. Barion's first score had not been a mortal strike but this one felt as if it were. He looked to his enemy and it was little consolation to see the red line of blood marring the man's shirt. It was but a scratch.
Barion dispassionately watched blood seep from the two grievous wounds he had inflicted upon the ranger. "You are beat ranger. Do you yield?" his voice now cold and hard.
"No," Aragorn resolutely ground out though his tone was hued with pain.
"As you wish," Barion replied as if he were dealing with a child that could not be taught the right of things. With a ferocity he had not unleashed before, Barion pulled his sword back only to slam it against Aragorn's blade with bone jarring force. Aragorn's weakened stance could not bare the impact and the ranger stumbled to one knee under the assault. Barion gave him no reprieve this time. Instead he unleashed a downward blow that Aragorn, positioning his sword over his head, barely succeeded in blocking. Almost instantaneously Barion twisted his blade under Aragorn's and with an upward stroke, knocked Aragorn's sword from the ranger's grasp.
Suddenly Barion's blade pressed against Aragorn's throat, drawing blood. The forest fell silent as the two men's eyes held.
Aragorn let the silence reign. He would not beg for his life. He had fought honorably and now he would die with that same honor.
Respect glimmered in Barion's gaze. "You do the rangers proud, Aragorn, if not your father. Many men boasting more strength of will than you have begged me for their lives."
To this Aragorn said nothing. He would not engage any stalling tactics. If this was to be his end, then he would meet it unflinchingly.
The other man's silence intrigued Barion as he sensed this silence wasn't out of fear but acceptance. "Stand up," he ordered as he withdrew his sword far enough away only to allow the ranger that motion.
With more strength of will than body, Aragorn did as he was bade and climbed to his feet.
"If I had but a sliver of a soul left, I would spare you," Barion quietly confided.
Without rancor, Aragorn surmised, "But you have not had a soul for many years."
A sad smile flipped up the other man's lips. "You see much, son of Arathorn, but it is your father that I want to give sight to. I want him to witness the punishment that you must bare for his betrayal."
"Your wish is in vain for the dead have no sight," Aragorn bit out but a shiver crept up his spine at the gleam in the other man's eyes.
"I'm not surprised that you learned little of your edain heritage among the elves. When Iluvatar bestowed the "gift" of death upon the edain, he offered them one comfort. If an edain was dying a slow death, their agony and despair were felt by their relatives already in the Halls so that they could appeal to the Valar to end their loved one's suffering."
Fear coiled in Aragorn. He had been taught that particular truth by Glorfindel when he was a boy and at the time, it seemed a kindness from the Iluvatar. And maybe it was...if it was not twisted to aid a merciless revenge. With sharp clarity, Aragorn knew his death would be neither quick nor painless all so his father in the Halls could know the punishment he bore at the hands of Barion. Being able to exact revenge upon the dead, now that was a new concept Aragorn could have lived a full life without learning.
He watched as Barion reached into his pocket and removed his closed hand. "Your father always disrespected my herb concoctions." And he opened his hand, palm upward to reveal a finely ground green powder. Without warning he lifted his level palm to his mouth, took a step closer to Aragorn and blew the powder into the ranger's face.
Aragorn choked and clamped his eyes shut as the powder coated his face and entered his mouth and nose. With burning eyes, throat and nose, Aragorn stumbled backwards and Barion, lowering his sword, let him retreat. The time for swords had passed. They delivered death too clean and swift.
Rubbing his eyes with his hands and shaking his head, Aragorn tried to dispel the powder and still keep his feet. After a few moments, he managed to get his eyes to open and remain open but the world tilted to and fro. He could see Barion a few paces away but he couldn't keep the man from swinging left and right within his vision. Clamping his eyes shut again he stumbled back yet another step, holding his hand out to ward off an attack the other man would make.
"Soon your body will not obey your commands," Barion's cool voice explained as Aragorn again forced his eyes open, somewhat relieved that the world now remained level. "You will hear and see but you will not be able to obtain any motion."
As if his body took Barion's words as truth, Aragorn's legs crumbled under him, sending him falling to his knees. He forced his focus on Barion and wanted to curse him but no words would form upon his lips. It was if a heavy sleep was laying siege to him. Without warning he fell to his side and lay limply upon the ground, his breathing ragged and his eyes fixed on the man that approached.
Helplessness gripped Aragorn. He could not move, could not react in any way to whatever the other man's plans were for him. With certainty, Aragorn knew there would be no honor in his death, this man would see to it. No, his death would overflow with terror and hold not a drop of mercy. And in the depths of his being, he knew before it would grant him it's full gift, it would decimate his soul.
TBC
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As always I would love to hear from you!
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Replies to Reviews
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Marbienl: Thank you so much! Without your little prompting email, I know I would have procrastinated in posting this story. And then you helped me with my summary and then you dropped me an email AND a review! I owe you huge! It was very smart of you to distrust Barion as you can see. And you posed many good questions about Elrond, his letter and Aragorn's real relationship with his brothers. Of course I'm not going to give anything away but keep the questions coming. They always get me thinking a little more deviously. Dying to hear what you think of this chapter!
Elven Kitten: Thanks for being the first to review! And yes, Aragorn certainly does need a BIG hug..especially after this chapter...and the next ...and the next. I'm starting to see a very bad pattern. Hope you let me know how you like the story!
Bill the Pony2: I remember you from your reviews in Mire! Thank you for reading this chapter and reviewing! I was so grateful for your words! I was all worried that chapter 1 was too slow and boring to entice anyone to read it! Thank you for the compliments and I hope you stay tuned in and tell me what you think of the story as it progresses!
Sielge: Thank you for your review! I'm glad you found the first chapter interesting and I hope you like the ones to follow. Drop me a review!
Midnightwolf3: Thanks for sharing your thoughts on chapter 1! I seem to have a tendency to pick on poor Elrond. The movies show his relationship with Aragorn in a pretty harsh light (as well as his feelings toward men as you pointed out) while the books, what mention this is of his relationship with Aragorn, tells us he loved him like a son. That just seemed like fertile ground for some angtsy writing for me. And you are right, I don't see how Aragorn could grow up respecting men when his adopted father seemed to hold them in low esteem. Love to hear what you think of this chapter.
Tychen: It's great hearing from you again! It's like talking with a friend I haven't seen for awhile! Thanks for venturing out on a limb and reading my Band of Brothers fic. It just got into my head and the only way to get it out was to write it down. Now unto my newest story...Yes, Elrond's words in those letters can hardly be easily explained or forgiven. And I should have known you won't trust Barion and by the end of chapter 2 you know how right you were! Can't wait to hear your review on this chapter!
Grumpy: I loved seeing your name come up on the review! You were very loyal in reviewing "Mire" and I always loved hearing from you...just like I love it now! Thanks for again taking a chance on me! As for the letters, Aragorn had better be a heck of a lot more understanding than I would be. I don't think I'll give Elrond the time of day! Please drop me another review!
Athelassa: I'm touched that you're reading my newest story! It was always fun to read your reviews to Mire and sometimes you were the first one to review a new chapter because of that tricky time zone you're in! I really hope you like this story...its got some action...as chapter 2 plainly pointed out but there will be enough angst to go around. You know how I LOVE writing angst...and Aragorn pain...and well, anything with Aragorn in it. I'm really looking forward to your reviews!
BabeyRachey: Thanks for your compliments! I was hoping the first chapter didn't bore people to tears. As for Aragorn talking to Elrond....I'm not giving anything away. Please tell me how you liked this chapter!
Eph: Thank you for your review! I love hearing from new reviewers! Drop me a review again!
Nerfenherder: I'm blushing over the fact that you took the time to read my other stories! So glad you liked Mire. I hope I won't let you down with this story! Love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!
Ymmas Sirron: So you're back! It's always a pleasure to hear from you! And yes, Elrond deserves a good pounding for writing such a harsh letter. It's going to take a lot for him to convince Aragorn that he really loves him after those words. I think I feel some major angst approaching.... Hope you can find time to review this chapter!
Thanks to everyone for reading and I hope to hear from you all!
By: Cheryl W
Disclaimer: I don't own The Lord of the Rings or anything in conjunction with the Lord of the Rings nor am I making a profit from this story. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: I couldn't wait for Saturday so I'm posting this early. But don't expect to be spoiled like this too often! Unless I get another round of wonderful reviews...then I might just get antsy to post early again.
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CHAPTER 2
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Aragorn watched as the sun made it's first appearance of the new day but the sight did nothing to lighten his heart. He had not slept at all. In truth, he had not even tried. Instead he had remained sitting by the fire, feeding it's needy flames, while his soul was plagued with doubts and new found truths.
Try as he might, he could not justify Elrond's words. With an agony that wounded deeper than any other weapon forged in Middle Earth, he accepted the truth: Elrond had not wanted him...had never wanted him. It was only with the realization that he was the foretold "Hope of Middle Earth" which caused the elf lord to take on the "burden" of sheltering a human child in Rivendell.
Duty alone drove Elrond's decision...not love...never love. A part of Aragorn yelled, 'You should have accepted this truth long ago! You should have seen through Elrond's lie! You should have known that he would do anything to fulfill his duty..even lie...even raise a child and pretend to claim him as a son.'
So consuming was Aragorn's anguish that he did not notice his visitor was also awake, watching him with a glow in his eyes. Aragorn's eyes shot to the other man when Barion made a show of stretching as if he had just awoken.
This man had also garnered some of Aragorn's thoughts. There was little warmth in Aragorn's gaze as he watched the man roll up his bedroll and come to his feet. This man had not brought these letters to him out of any kindness, Aragorn knew that in the depths of his soul. Aragorn came to his feet, leaving only the fire and a few feet separating he and Barion. "What did you seek to gain by bringing these letters to me?" Aragorn growled lowly.
A smile pulled onto Barion's face but it was of a cruel nature. "I have to admit the letters from Elrond are my favorite. So formal, so heartless..just like an elf."
For the first time, Aragorn did not rally to the defense of the elven race or Elrond. He now knew that he owed neither his loyalty. No, instead his thoughts turned to deeper issues, namely to survive this encounter with a man that he had welcomed into his camp. Barion's friendliness which had permeated last night's meeting was replaced this morning by unchecked malice.
His instincts humming with warnings, Aragorn wrapped his hand around his sword hilt, and demanded again, his eyes boring into the older man's, "Answer my question. Why did you give me these letters? Evidently it was not prompted by your tender feelings toward Arathorn's kin."
Barion laughed at that. "You see the truth of the matter... Heir of Isildur."
'Heir of Isildur' was barely said before Aragorn drew his sword. None but those closest to Aragorn knew him by that relation. This was one secret he had learned to guard with his life. Aragorn brought the tip of his sword to Barion's throat but the other man did not attempt to defend himself but calmly stood his ground.
"So you don't even try to deny it?" he mocked with a raised eyebrow as if he found amusement in that. "Will you murder me because I know this truth, Heir of Isildur?" his eyes fearless and his tone bordering on a taunt. "Or do you prefer to be called the 'Hope of Middle Earth.'" Then Barion raised his hands at his side in a sign of surrender to Aragorn's mercies.
Pressing the sword tip more firmly into Barion's flesh, Aragorn snarled, "How do you know this?"
A flash of sadness was evident in Barion's eyes before it morphed into bitterness. "Once I was a trusted friend of your father's. We kept no secrets between us."
This revelation caught Aragorn off guard. He had never contemplated that Arathorn had told someone about his true heritage. Suddenly a spark of betrayal flickered in Aragorn. Were there none that could be trusted...not even the dead?!
Pointedly looking at Aragorn's sword under his chin that now drew blood, Barion prodded, "So to what lengths will you go to protect your secret, son of Arathorn?"
Startled at the damage he was unconsciously inflicting on the other man, Aragorn withdrew his sword but did not turn it from it's initial target. "What do you hope to achieve, Barion, with these letters and your tales of your past with a man long dead?"
Barion smiled and Aragorn felt his stomach clench in apprehension even before the man spoke his next words. "To start with, I wanted to see that look in your eyes." Aragorn narrowed those very eyes as Barion continued, "That pain, that haunted look of betrayal, that lost feeling in your soul. I wanted you to feel what I once felt...what your father caused me to feel."
Revenge. Aragorn had been its victim before, for Isildur, but never for Arathorn. He almost sighed. The longer he lived the more likely it was that all his relative's enemies would try and exact their revenge on him. For the first time, Aragorn cursed the long life of his Numenor blood.
"Revenge?" Aragorn scoffed, bringing his sword again to rest on Barion's throat. "Does your life not warrant a better end than this? Arathorn is dead. When you reach the Halls of Mandos take your grievance up with him."
Barion chuckled, unshaken at the sword that had resumed it's threat to his life. "Oh, truly what a loyal son you turned out to be."
Aragorn flinched at Barion's words for they bore markings of the truth.
"So send me to the Halls, boy," Barion taunted, still keeping his hands raised and his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Anger tore through Aragorn. "You think I am a murderer. Truly you have a low opinion of my family." Pulling his sword from Barion's flesh, Aragorn stepped around the fire to come face to face with Barion. Now no obstructions stood between them. Evenly Aragorn spoke, "Walk away and forget this revenge or draw your sword and let us see to the end of this matter." But even as he said the words, Aragorn had no hope that the other man would walk away. He could see the hatred brimming in Barion's eyes, eyes which were as hard as the jade stones in Aragorn's ring.
Barion nodded as if accepting the terms Aragorn had laid down and pulled his sword. Aragorn, readied his stance for the attack, and watched in rapt fascination as Barion raised his sword in front of him in a sign of respect. Aragorn had never seen this homage to the old ways performed outside a ranger's honorary ceremony.
Caught off guard by such gallantry, Aragorn barely had time to react when Barion, with barely a flick of his wrist, sent his blade angling toward Aragorn's throat. Utilizing his elf like reflexes, Aragorn spun out of reach causing the sword blade to miss it's intended target by the mere width of a stem of a rose. Aragorn, leading his evasive move into an offensive attack, he spun fully around and sent his own sword slashing for Barion's unprotected right side.
Sensing the attack, Barion skittered just out of reach of the blade.
Aragorn did not take up pursuit but waited until the other man faced him again. "It does not have to come to this," he lowly said.
A glimmer of humor sparked in Barion's eyes. "Your father was not so hesitant to deal out death to any that gave him cause. In fact, I think he rather enjoyed the killing."
The ploy was so obvious a boy would have seen through it and Aragorn had long passed the age of youth. No, he knew Barion's taunts sought to impair his rationale amid battle. Many times he had seen the tactic used effectively. Always he had been immune to it...but not today, not this man's words for they were sharper than any arrow head or blade of a sword.
Rising to the man's bait, Aragorn could not hold back his snarl, "Your lies do not even fall from your mouth with ease. Maybe you should have waited another few years to challenge me...when you could lie effectively."
Instead of causing anger in the other man, it generated mirth. Chuckling, Barion replied, "I forgot, you can not detect a lie from the truth. How long has the elf told you he wanted you? That he thought of you as a son? And never did you see his words for what they were: Lies."
This was too new a wound, too deep a hurt for Aragorn and he reacted immediately and recklessly. With a yell of outrage, Aragorn swung his sword to the left, intending to lance a mortal cut across Barion's chest. But with a loud clash of steel, Barion's blade blocked Aragorn's blow mid way.
Applying just the right strength and leverage upon Aragorn's sword, Barion was able to force Aragorn's sword down. Then with unforeseen boldness, Barion removed his sword from the conflict, spun around and brought his blade slashing across Aragorn's left side.
Agony jolted through Aragorn and he instinctively stumbled back from his opponent and Barion let him retreat in peace. Aragorn dropped his left hand to the source of the pain. Unerringly his hand found the sword cut that ran diagonally from his third rib down toward his stomach. Warm blood coated his hand even as his other hand tightened it's grip on the sword hilt. Aragorn's eyes seared into Barion, who stood a few paces away, a smile on his face.
"You will soon be seeing your father, Heir of Isildur. How will you explain to him your devotion to the elf he hated most in this world?"
'Do not listen to his words! Concentrate!' Aragorn demanded of himself as he took two steps backwards to put more space between Barion and himself. He needed to steady himself for the next encounter, needed to shut off his emotions and the pain both of heart and body. The battle alone mattered. And this was a type of battle he had not waged in years...not since he had sparred with his elven brothers. But their intent had never been to take his life.
Aragorn had spent nearly ten years fighting orcs and wargs and men that attacked with no regard for tactics. No, for them, hatred, strength and force was enough to see them through a battle...to take more lives than Aragorn could stand to count. He had gotten use to the blunt fighting of the orcs and he engaged any tactic he could to survive, whether it be blows delivered by his elbows, fists, legs or even his teeth. There was no honor to uphold, no rules to mind, no consequences for employing ruthlessness. Live or die. It was that simple and that brutal.
Unknowingly, he had long since discarded the graceful style of one on one fighting that his brothers had taught him: the subtle moves they had drilled into him, the ways to read an opponent's next move, the seamless flow of his sword strokes that would deflect the most skilled swordsman's advances. This knowledge was buried under the countless battles he had waged as a ranger. There was little grace to be had in his chosen vocation and it never appeared upon a field of battle. But now he desperately needed that grace or he would be meeting his father this day. In the Halls of Mandos.
Steeling himself for the battle to come, Aragorn pulled his left hand away from the wound and used it to beckon Barion forward. The man had given Aragorn a reprieve, a reprieve that spared the ranger's life and they both knew it.
Barion gave a slight nod at Aragorn's gesture and stepped forward, his sword held to the right, ready to be put into motion. "You do not have to stick to the rules of honor as I have chosen to do," Barion offered with disdain. "It seems you prove little challenge to me if you can not behave as if you engage in a battle with an orc. By all means, throw your punches, kick out at me, utilize your gleaming elven dagger. Do what you must do to last at least a little while longer. I have waited a long time for your death and I do not wish it to be over before I can savor it."
Aragorn's jaw clenched in fury but he did not let his emotions dictate his actions, not anymore. Brandishing his sword in both hands, Aragorn waited for Barion to make his attack. He did not have long to wait for the next second, Barion's blade arced for his head. Ducking, Aragorn felt the blade flick through his hair but he didn't contemplate his close call but instead swept his own blade low, satisfaction swelled in him as his blade's tip scored a path across Barion's stomach.
Seemingly oblivious to the wound that scored his stomach, Barion spun around and sent a low cut toward Aragorn but it clashed against the steel of Aragorn's upside down blade. For a moment the men's motion paused as their eyes met with the challenge.
"Arathorn would be disgusted by your swordsmanship. He himself could never best me but at least he had the skill to make me work hard for my victory."
Fueled by the insult, Aragorn uncovered the strength to shove the other man back a step. It was a small opening for attack but Aragorn greedily seized it. Brutally Aragorn swung his sword toward the other man's chest but Barion's blade blocked the blow, though the older man stumbled under the powerful stroke. Initiating the elven like speed he had been blessed with, Aragorn furiously swung his sword left then right then left, driving the man back as their swords met again and again. Still Aragorn relentlessly sent stroke after stroke hoping that the other man would be too slow, just once to block the blow.
Though Barion was forced to falter back against Aragorn's powerful onslaught, his reflexes matched Aragorn's move for move. He was two steps away from being backed into a tree when he weakened his block and angled his sword to the ground. With these slight adjustments, Aragorn's blade did not solidly impact with the steel but instead slide off the other blade toward the ground, causing Aragorn to lose the tiniest margin of his balance. But it would make all the difference in the world.
As soon as Aragorn's sword slide from his own, Barion, seeing the other's vulnerability, took a step forward, thrusting his blade into Aragorn's right side.
A groan of pain spilled from Aragorn as the steel blade deeply pierced his flesh. In desperation and rage, he swept his blade up, intent on removing Barion's head but Barion ducked and sent another powerful stroke aimed for Aragorn's right side.
Aragorn's blade locked with Barion's and Barion pressed forward, hoping to push the ranger off balance. Agony consumed Aragorn as he struggled to not give any ground to Barion. Barion's first score had not been a mortal strike but this one felt as if it were. He looked to his enemy and it was little consolation to see the red line of blood marring the man's shirt. It was but a scratch.
Barion dispassionately watched blood seep from the two grievous wounds he had inflicted upon the ranger. "You are beat ranger. Do you yield?" his voice now cold and hard.
"No," Aragorn resolutely ground out though his tone was hued with pain.
"As you wish," Barion replied as if he were dealing with a child that could not be taught the right of things. With a ferocity he had not unleashed before, Barion pulled his sword back only to slam it against Aragorn's blade with bone jarring force. Aragorn's weakened stance could not bare the impact and the ranger stumbled to one knee under the assault. Barion gave him no reprieve this time. Instead he unleashed a downward blow that Aragorn, positioning his sword over his head, barely succeeded in blocking. Almost instantaneously Barion twisted his blade under Aragorn's and with an upward stroke, knocked Aragorn's sword from the ranger's grasp.
Suddenly Barion's blade pressed against Aragorn's throat, drawing blood. The forest fell silent as the two men's eyes held.
Aragorn let the silence reign. He would not beg for his life. He had fought honorably and now he would die with that same honor.
Respect glimmered in Barion's gaze. "You do the rangers proud, Aragorn, if not your father. Many men boasting more strength of will than you have begged me for their lives."
To this Aragorn said nothing. He would not engage any stalling tactics. If this was to be his end, then he would meet it unflinchingly.
The other man's silence intrigued Barion as he sensed this silence wasn't out of fear but acceptance. "Stand up," he ordered as he withdrew his sword far enough away only to allow the ranger that motion.
With more strength of will than body, Aragorn did as he was bade and climbed to his feet.
"If I had but a sliver of a soul left, I would spare you," Barion quietly confided.
Without rancor, Aragorn surmised, "But you have not had a soul for many years."
A sad smile flipped up the other man's lips. "You see much, son of Arathorn, but it is your father that I want to give sight to. I want him to witness the punishment that you must bare for his betrayal."
"Your wish is in vain for the dead have no sight," Aragorn bit out but a shiver crept up his spine at the gleam in the other man's eyes.
"I'm not surprised that you learned little of your edain heritage among the elves. When Iluvatar bestowed the "gift" of death upon the edain, he offered them one comfort. If an edain was dying a slow death, their agony and despair were felt by their relatives already in the Halls so that they could appeal to the Valar to end their loved one's suffering."
Fear coiled in Aragorn. He had been taught that particular truth by Glorfindel when he was a boy and at the time, it seemed a kindness from the Iluvatar. And maybe it was...if it was not twisted to aid a merciless revenge. With sharp clarity, Aragorn knew his death would be neither quick nor painless all so his father in the Halls could know the punishment he bore at the hands of Barion. Being able to exact revenge upon the dead, now that was a new concept Aragorn could have lived a full life without learning.
He watched as Barion reached into his pocket and removed his closed hand. "Your father always disrespected my herb concoctions." And he opened his hand, palm upward to reveal a finely ground green powder. Without warning he lifted his level palm to his mouth, took a step closer to Aragorn and blew the powder into the ranger's face.
Aragorn choked and clamped his eyes shut as the powder coated his face and entered his mouth and nose. With burning eyes, throat and nose, Aragorn stumbled backwards and Barion, lowering his sword, let him retreat. The time for swords had passed. They delivered death too clean and swift.
Rubbing his eyes with his hands and shaking his head, Aragorn tried to dispel the powder and still keep his feet. After a few moments, he managed to get his eyes to open and remain open but the world tilted to and fro. He could see Barion a few paces away but he couldn't keep the man from swinging left and right within his vision. Clamping his eyes shut again he stumbled back yet another step, holding his hand out to ward off an attack the other man would make.
"Soon your body will not obey your commands," Barion's cool voice explained as Aragorn again forced his eyes open, somewhat relieved that the world now remained level. "You will hear and see but you will not be able to obtain any motion."
As if his body took Barion's words as truth, Aragorn's legs crumbled under him, sending him falling to his knees. He forced his focus on Barion and wanted to curse him but no words would form upon his lips. It was if a heavy sleep was laying siege to him. Without warning he fell to his side and lay limply upon the ground, his breathing ragged and his eyes fixed on the man that approached.
Helplessness gripped Aragorn. He could not move, could not react in any way to whatever the other man's plans were for him. With certainty, Aragorn knew there would be no honor in his death, this man would see to it. No, his death would overflow with terror and hold not a drop of mercy. And in the depths of his being, he knew before it would grant him it's full gift, it would decimate his soul.
TBC
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As always I would love to hear from you!
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Replies to Reviews
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Marbienl: Thank you so much! Without your little prompting email, I know I would have procrastinated in posting this story. And then you helped me with my summary and then you dropped me an email AND a review! I owe you huge! It was very smart of you to distrust Barion as you can see. And you posed many good questions about Elrond, his letter and Aragorn's real relationship with his brothers. Of course I'm not going to give anything away but keep the questions coming. They always get me thinking a little more deviously. Dying to hear what you think of this chapter!
Elven Kitten: Thanks for being the first to review! And yes, Aragorn certainly does need a BIG hug..especially after this chapter...and the next ...and the next. I'm starting to see a very bad pattern. Hope you let me know how you like the story!
Bill the Pony2: I remember you from your reviews in Mire! Thank you for reading this chapter and reviewing! I was so grateful for your words! I was all worried that chapter 1 was too slow and boring to entice anyone to read it! Thank you for the compliments and I hope you stay tuned in and tell me what you think of the story as it progresses!
Sielge: Thank you for your review! I'm glad you found the first chapter interesting and I hope you like the ones to follow. Drop me a review!
Midnightwolf3: Thanks for sharing your thoughts on chapter 1! I seem to have a tendency to pick on poor Elrond. The movies show his relationship with Aragorn in a pretty harsh light (as well as his feelings toward men as you pointed out) while the books, what mention this is of his relationship with Aragorn, tells us he loved him like a son. That just seemed like fertile ground for some angtsy writing for me. And you are right, I don't see how Aragorn could grow up respecting men when his adopted father seemed to hold them in low esteem. Love to hear what you think of this chapter.
Tychen: It's great hearing from you again! It's like talking with a friend I haven't seen for awhile! Thanks for venturing out on a limb and reading my Band of Brothers fic. It just got into my head and the only way to get it out was to write it down. Now unto my newest story...Yes, Elrond's words in those letters can hardly be easily explained or forgiven. And I should have known you won't trust Barion and by the end of chapter 2 you know how right you were! Can't wait to hear your review on this chapter!
Grumpy: I loved seeing your name come up on the review! You were very loyal in reviewing "Mire" and I always loved hearing from you...just like I love it now! Thanks for again taking a chance on me! As for the letters, Aragorn had better be a heck of a lot more understanding than I would be. I don't think I'll give Elrond the time of day! Please drop me another review!
Athelassa: I'm touched that you're reading my newest story! It was always fun to read your reviews to Mire and sometimes you were the first one to review a new chapter because of that tricky time zone you're in! I really hope you like this story...its got some action...as chapter 2 plainly pointed out but there will be enough angst to go around. You know how I LOVE writing angst...and Aragorn pain...and well, anything with Aragorn in it. I'm really looking forward to your reviews!
BabeyRachey: Thanks for your compliments! I was hoping the first chapter didn't bore people to tears. As for Aragorn talking to Elrond....I'm not giving anything away. Please tell me how you liked this chapter!
Eph: Thank you for your review! I love hearing from new reviewers! Drop me a review again!
Nerfenherder: I'm blushing over the fact that you took the time to read my other stories! So glad you liked Mire. I hope I won't let you down with this story! Love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!
Ymmas Sirron: So you're back! It's always a pleasure to hear from you! And yes, Elrond deserves a good pounding for writing such a harsh letter. It's going to take a lot for him to convince Aragorn that he really loves him after those words. I think I feel some major angst approaching.... Hope you can find time to review this chapter!
Thanks to everyone for reading and I hope to hear from you all!