Sorry for the longer wait and shorter chapter, I guess.
-
The gatekeeper lifted his lantern, stepping towards the wooden wall. Horses' hooves pounded on the other side- he quickly remembered the parting words of a certain giant. He dove to the side, barely missed by the crashing gate.
The Ringwraith's horses pounded into Bree straight for the Prancing Pony. People fled in terror, the dark servants riding their way to the inn, Butterbur hiding away. Paralyzing fear serving to keep him silent as death.
They started up the stairs to the Hobbits' room. The door opened, and they stepped within. Battered and shining blades rose in unison and-
A blood-curdling shriek of hate burst from the Inn.
The sound made the poor Hobbits sit straight as an arrow. I stood near the edge of the room, creaking floorboards the only sign I was shifting my body. Damn things grate on my ears.
"What are they?" Frodo was standing nervously next to Aragorn, known only to him as Strider. He looks to him, waiting for an answer. "They were once Men." He started. "Great Kings of Men. Then Sauron the deceiver gave them Nine Rings of Power-"
"Greed blinded them. They didn't question it and fell into Sauron's hold." Merry and Pippin jumped at the sound of my voice, whipping their head to me. My green armour is dull in the dim room, yet the Aquila on my chest reflected the little light from the fireplace.
"That is… correct." Strider looked at me with the ghost of a puzzled expression. He continued, "They are the Nazgul, Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead. They feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to it, and will never stop hunting you…"
I made a quiet grunt of amusement. They have no idea.
We left in the early morning. Aragorn and I had stood sentinel over the Hobbits. I said nothing then, and still nothing as we marched up into the forest. I took my place at the back, not feeling weary at all from climbing the large hill ahead of us. Strider looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. I snorted under my helmet.
"Where are you taking us?" Frodo asked nervously.
"Into the wild." Aragorn moved off into the brush.
Merry whispered to Frodo, "How do we know he's really a friend of Gandalf?" He frowned. "I think a servant of the enemy would look fairer… and feel fouler." My stomping steps cracked down on a large stick and making all but Aragorn jump. He did twitch slightly, though I doubt any other saw.
"Sorry," was my quick and not at all insincere answer.
They continued moving as Merry added, "He's foul enough." Frodo looked to their guide. "We have no choice but to trust him."
"But where is he leading us?" Sam spoke up from behind the others. Aragorn glanced back at him. "To Rivendell, the house of Elrond." Sam perked up at that and started to talk to his pony. "Hear that, Bill? We're going to see the Elves!"
I smiled at Sam's giddiness and then sighed at the knowledge of the future. I had only barely started to… accept my situation. The best idea would be to keep with them; even despite all the danger.
The day wore on until the Hobbits stopped to unstrap their packs. It was still early, and I knew what they were intending to do. I stopped and just shook my head, Bill shuffled his hooves at my proximity.
"We do not stop until nightfall," Aragorn called from ahead. Pippin spoke up. "But what about breakfast?" I snorted as quiet as I could.
"You've already had it." Was Aragorn's answer.
Pippin responded confidently and with a nod, "We've had one, yes, but what about Second Breakfast?" Our guide looked back at him incredulously- then marched off.
I snorted. "I'm not so sure he's acquainted with Hobbit culture. In this case just how much you eat." Merry nodded as he deftly caught an apple thrown at him. Pippin looked at me incredulously, "Not even Elevenses, Luncheon, Afternoon Tea-" An apple bops itself on his forehead and he looks up in confusion. I give a single resounding laugh. "No, but I think he's learning."
"Pippin!" Merry calls. His voice was laden with exasperation.
I smiled under my helm. This isn't so bad. At least I'll have time to get used to this place before shit really goes down. I'm not letting Frodo get shanked by a magic dagger thing.
Amon Sul was barren and ruined. History had left it to crumble on the rocky hill it was built upon. There was a muted pop, followed by a blue metal figure, and falling from above. It crashed to the ground with a thud, airborne dust and shattered stone. A glint of gold shone from beneath its 'face'. Only the quiet whistle of the wind was left.
Until a groan rose its way from the figure.
...
"What was that?" The sun was setting, casting an eerie dull light on everything. Yet I could still see perfectly, my augmented eyes giving me clear sight even in the dark- How did I not notice this before?- Aragorn had given four daggers- or were they short swords?- to the Hobbits. I was darting my head left and right, unsure of what I heard.
"Stay here- and don't attract any attention!" The Hobbits jump at my voice as I march off, careful not to fall off the edge. My curiosity and paranoia led me farther up and into the ruins. I moved slowly, carefully, the invasive skills and knowledge I should not have guiding my silent-as-can-be steps. I am a giant fucking wall of flesh and ceramite, why am I this stealthy!?
I reached the top of the ruins. The sun was down and replaced by the moon. There, laying face down, was an armored blue something. For a second I thought it was another person turned into a Space Marine. Whoever they were groaning and slowly started standing up. I recognized the armor now, it was a Spartan-II. A gun was, I assumed, magnetically stuck to his back. They shook their head and grumbled. "That's the last time I ever do a forty-eight hour game spree…" Then stood stock still and glanced around the dark ruins.
"Hello?" Whoever they were in the past, I hope to high hell they can accept this as fast as I can. I have no idea how to help the guy if he can't.
"What… Where…" He turns to face me. "Who- What the fuck!?" Promptly, he fell on his ass, scrambling to get away before backing into the ruins. "What are you!?" My eyes were just barely emitting a red, evil looking light.
I snorted then laughed. "I'm human… I think. Man can't kill Nazgul, so I'm sure I am. You're in the same boat as me, though." If he wasn't wearing a helmet I'm sure he'd have the biggest dumbfound expression on his face. "I have been unwillingly turned into an Astartes after dying…" My voice went somber, "And you have been turned into a Spartan from Halo, by the looks of it."
He laughed too. "What? Not possible. I mean, really, how unlucky or lucky or whatever the fuck can I be to be turned into a badass, sadly non-existent super-soldier?" He laughed again. "Alright, now how do I take this fancy… cosplay… off?" A flashlight on the side of his helmet turned on. He started shaking. "W-wait, what? Why- how- holy fuck." I nodded as the reality of it settled in.
"I… I'm really a Spartan? The flashlight turned on and off. He looked down at his gauntleted hands. "I can just think and this armor turns it on and off. There's a whole god damn HUD in my face!" I nod again. "I can do the same. There are targeting systems in here. Among other things." I tapped the side of my helmet. He looked up, "W-where are we? You said something about a Naz...gul. Oh."
I nodded a third time. That's getting repetitive. "Yup," I deadpanned, "Lord of The Fucking Rings."
