Title: Opposites of the Same
Chapter Title: Prologue 1/?
Authors: TrinityTheSheDevil and Karine
Rating: PG 13 (For Now)
Genre: [AU] Action/Suspense/etc
Disclaimer: *look at lawyers all tied in a net hovering over the fires of Hell* *grins* Now, we can safely say that we own… *the sound of someone clearing its throat is heard* *turn around* *see a new batch of lawyers* *groans* dammmmn, are you guys growing in field or something???? *lawyers stare* Ok ok ok, We get it, We don't own them, there, happy?? *lawyers nod and leave*
Summary: What if you found someone in the woods that you knew long ago but forgot about? What if this person was your twin, long thought dead? What if he was now jealous of the life you led while he was caught in the clutches of an evil man bent on your destruction? What if he took your place... would your loves one realize it before it's too late?
A/Ns:
Trin: I blame Kar for this one...It all started with, "I'm bored", then progressed to, "I feel like writing". Then she dragged me into it. I am completely innocent. Err. Except where the plot is concerned. This fic was *actually* plotted out by Cathy and I, like, last April. Needless to say, we never got around to writing it. Well, meh, it's being put to use now. Also, in this chapter, the "Dark Lord" is *not* Sauron OR Saruman. You will find out more about him later. >:)
Kar: Don't listen to Trin, she's a liar. It didn't begun with I'm bored, well, err, it did. It was actually: Me: I'm bored, Me: I feel like writing, Trin: Ooo, Me: Do you?, Trin: Suppose so., Me: What could we write?, Trin: *ramage through plot bunny, take out this novel length one* How about that?, Me: Umm, Long fic, full of pain, angst, OF COURSE WE'RE WRITING THIS, *ahem* Anyway, it's all her fault, really, it is >:)
It can be said that when things take a turn for the worst, they do so drastically, and in the shortest amount of time possible. Elladan found this statement to be absolutely true, as he blocked another orc blade. The attack, it seemed, had came out of nowhere. Further across the encampment, Elladan could see his twin, Elrohir, battling one of the large orc captains. Rangers defended their families from all sides as the women tried to get the children and themselves to safety.
The day had began as every other day. The ranger encampment has just woken up, and several of the children played in front of their parent's tents. Arathorn, along with Elladan and Elrohir, had returned from the nightly watch. The twins had arrived that night, finding Arathorn in his perch atop a large pine limb. They spent the night and much of the morning catching up on old times, for they had not seen each other in near five years.
The twins were anxious to return to camp with Arathorn; the man told them that, not only did he have a son, but a "surprise" as well. Arathorn stayed stubbornly closed-lip about it, not letting either twin in on what the surprise was, nor even hinting at what it could be.
Unfortunately, just as they entered the camp, the orcs struck hard and fast. The rangers faced them with some difficulty, not expecting the attack here, and certainly not now. It was too close to complete daylight.
Arathorn quickly took charge and began to shout orders in sindarin so the orcs would not understand them. Soon enough, the battlefield became what could be called an "organized chaos", meaning that everyone knew what they had to do, they just couldn't do it.
As the battle raged on, Arathorn only had one thing in mind: the safety of his small family. He knew that his wife could defend herself, but he would feel better if he was by her side.
But, as fate would have it, he would never live long enough to reach her. Because has soon as he had spotted her fighting off a few orcs that had her cornered, he stopped caring about his surroundings and the only thing on his mind was to get to her. But an orc saw his opening, and shot an arrow towards the chieftain, mortally wounding him.
The last thing that Arathorn saw was Elrohir killing the orcs that were threatening his wife, while Elladan was protecting their backs. His lips curl into a small smile, knowing that even if he wasn't going to make it, the twins would always protect his family. Arathorn drew his last breath; the knowledge that his family would be safe made his passing somewhat peaceful. But, what he didn't know, and hadn't seen, was that Gilrean had also been mortally wounded, and would not make it to see another day.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elladan grunted as an arrow glanced off someone's shield, grazing his back. He paid it no attention though; a distraction now could very well end up fatal. A flash of movement out of the corner of his eye alerted him to the fact that Elrohir had finally taken down the captain. Elladan smirked. The captain had obviously under estimated his brother's fighting ability.
He quickly searched around for Arathorn, not seeing the man anywhere in the melee. He did however, notice Gilrean in front of one of the tents, wielding a sword as best she could. Although she was not nearly as skilled as Arathorn, she was holding her own. He began to hack and slash in rapid succession, cutting a path to her. It seemed that Elrohir had the same idea, Elladan noticed, as the younger twin was closer to Gilrean now than he.
As he came upon the immediate threat to Gilrean's safety, he noticed the woman was wounded, and badly. Elrohir busied himself with killing the nearest orcs as fast as possible, while Elladan made sure none got any closer.
As the elf ducked another swing, Elladan finally saw Arathorn, in the middle of the large brawl. His eyes widened in horror as an arrow felled his friend, causing the man to fall to the ground, dead before his head hit the dirt. Elladan snarled in grief and rage, doubling his attacks. One of his friends had already fallen in battle, he would make sure that none followed.
A loud cry went up from somewhere near the edge of the camp, and as one, the orcs retreated into the trees. Elladan was left standing, arms weary from battle, amidst a pile of orc bodies.
He turned, rushing to his brother's side just as Gilrean fell to the ground. She gave a long, shuddering breath, and blood dribbled down the side of her mouth.
"M-my son." She choked. "Where is...my son?"
Elladan locked eyes with his brother, and Elrohir rushed into the tent, coming back out with a small boy in his arms.
"We have him, Gilrean. He was in the tent." Elladan squeezed her hand gently.
"No-not Aragorn. Wh-where is ... his twin? Where is ... Arador?" She coughed again and a gurgling sound came from her chest. Her head fell to the side, limply lying on Elladan's arm, and her eyes stared into nothingness as death took her.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Dark Lord waited upon his throne for the Orc party to arrive. His flowing robes draped across the chair, and lied on the black stone floor. The man, if you could call him that, might have been handsome at one time. This was not true now, as every feature of his face was curled into an evil mask as if chiseled out of stone. His eyes could have once been warm and caring, but now they were like black ice. The dark orbs reflected only rage, and disgust.
His shoulder length hair matched the midnight color of his robes. One could possibly mistake him for a wise Istari, if they did not look into his face.
The Lord's long, slender fingers drummed on the arm of the chair. If there were one feeling that he hardly felt, it was boredom. It was not a feeling that he was used to. If a person could possibly call it boredom. He was anxious, almost impatient, for the Orcs to arrive.
His plan was almost complete. Only one thing had to be done before the Throne of Gondor would forever be abandoned. A party of his Orcs had already killed Arathorn, and that wench of a wife of his. Now, there was only one. The child. Aragorn, the Heir of Isildur. Once the boy was dead, it would be the end for the race of men.
The sounds of scuffling and a small cry alerted the evil Lord to the fact that the Orc party, and the child, were finally there. The man smiled and stood, waiting for them to enter.
The door burst open and five Orcs rushed in, two carrying a struggling child.
"Mama!" The small boys eyes were filled with terror, and he visibly trembled at the sight of the Dark One.
"A handful, that one. Was very tempted to just eat'em." The Captain of the Orcs said.
"It's very well that you didn't. The pleasure of killing the last of a line of great Kings will be mine." The Lord moved towards the boy.
"Tell me, Aragorn. How did it feel to watch your mother and father slayed before your very eyes? Knowing you're too small to make a difference. Perhaps they'd still be alive if they hadn't had to protect you. It's your fault they are dead. Your fault."
The man laughed evilly as the child's eyes filled with tears.
"Papa?" The child cried.
"No, your Papa is dead! Never to walk this Earth again, never to tell you bedtime stories, and NEVER.....to reclaim the Throne of Gondor."
The Orcs all laughed and jeered as the boy cried harder. His tears streaked across his face to splash on the cold, unforgiving floor.
"So, tell me, Aragorn. What are you to do now? You have no family. They're all dead."
The boy sniffled and held his head up stiffly. "I'm not Aragorn."
The man laughed at this.
"Really? Or are you just saying this out of fear?"
The boy looked him in the eye, and repeated, "I'm not Aragorn. I'm Arador."
The man paused at this, and strode over to him. Grasping the child's leg, he pulled the pants leg up to look at his ankle. On the ankle there were seven small stars tattooed in a circle. But no crown. The crown symbolizes the King, and even if the King is in exile, he would always wear the mark on his ankle. This was truly not Aragorn.
"If you are not Aragorn, then where is he?" The man shook the boy.
The boy sniffed. "Don't know."
The Dark Lord turned to the Orc Captain.
"You were instructed to bring me the Heir! You have failed. Where is the one I ordered you to bring?!"
The Orc cowered back. "I don't know, my Lord. He must have been taken by those two elves."
The man sneered. He knew who those elves were. The same two that were forever ruining his plans. Looking back at Arador, he had a sudden thought. He wouldn't be able to get Aragorn, because no doubt he was now residing in Rivendell. But, perhaps he could use Arador. Yes, that would work out perfectly...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Trin: *looks at Kar* That last bit was written like, last year. Before the summer. *shakes head* Do you think it qualifies as a cliffhanger?
Kar: *stares* Errr...well...not a *good* cliffie. But it is a small one.
Trin: *Glare* I'd like to see *you* do better!
Kar: *ahem* Fine, the next chapter, I get to write the cliffie.
Trin: *crosses arms* Fine.
Kar: Fine!
Aragorn: *looks at Legolas* Let's leave while they're distracted ...
Legolas: *nods and the both of them start sneaking out*
Kar: *pushes button, they get zapped unconscious*
Trin: *continuing* FINE!
Kar: F-I-N-E!!
*fades out*
.......*Fades back in*
PS: LOTS of Aragorn and Legolas in the next chapters....*ahem* *fades out again*
Psst. Reviews = very welcome. :-)
Chapter Title: Prologue 1/?
Authors: TrinityTheSheDevil and Karine
Rating: PG 13 (For Now)
Genre: [AU] Action/Suspense/etc
Disclaimer: *look at lawyers all tied in a net hovering over the fires of Hell* *grins* Now, we can safely say that we own… *the sound of someone clearing its throat is heard* *turn around* *see a new batch of lawyers* *groans* dammmmn, are you guys growing in field or something???? *lawyers stare* Ok ok ok, We get it, We don't own them, there, happy?? *lawyers nod and leave*
Summary: What if you found someone in the woods that you knew long ago but forgot about? What if this person was your twin, long thought dead? What if he was now jealous of the life you led while he was caught in the clutches of an evil man bent on your destruction? What if he took your place... would your loves one realize it before it's too late?
A/Ns:
Trin: I blame Kar for this one...It all started with, "I'm bored", then progressed to, "I feel like writing". Then she dragged me into it. I am completely innocent. Err. Except where the plot is concerned. This fic was *actually* plotted out by Cathy and I, like, last April. Needless to say, we never got around to writing it. Well, meh, it's being put to use now. Also, in this chapter, the "Dark Lord" is *not* Sauron OR Saruman. You will find out more about him later. >:)
Kar: Don't listen to Trin, she's a liar. It didn't begun with I'm bored, well, err, it did. It was actually: Me: I'm bored, Me: I feel like writing, Trin: Ooo, Me: Do you?, Trin: Suppose so., Me: What could we write?, Trin: *ramage through plot bunny, take out this novel length one* How about that?, Me: Umm, Long fic, full of pain, angst, OF COURSE WE'RE WRITING THIS, *ahem* Anyway, it's all her fault, really, it is >:)
It can be said that when things take a turn for the worst, they do so drastically, and in the shortest amount of time possible. Elladan found this statement to be absolutely true, as he blocked another orc blade. The attack, it seemed, had came out of nowhere. Further across the encampment, Elladan could see his twin, Elrohir, battling one of the large orc captains. Rangers defended their families from all sides as the women tried to get the children and themselves to safety.
The day had began as every other day. The ranger encampment has just woken up, and several of the children played in front of their parent's tents. Arathorn, along with Elladan and Elrohir, had returned from the nightly watch. The twins had arrived that night, finding Arathorn in his perch atop a large pine limb. They spent the night and much of the morning catching up on old times, for they had not seen each other in near five years.
The twins were anxious to return to camp with Arathorn; the man told them that, not only did he have a son, but a "surprise" as well. Arathorn stayed stubbornly closed-lip about it, not letting either twin in on what the surprise was, nor even hinting at what it could be.
Unfortunately, just as they entered the camp, the orcs struck hard and fast. The rangers faced them with some difficulty, not expecting the attack here, and certainly not now. It was too close to complete daylight.
Arathorn quickly took charge and began to shout orders in sindarin so the orcs would not understand them. Soon enough, the battlefield became what could be called an "organized chaos", meaning that everyone knew what they had to do, they just couldn't do it.
As the battle raged on, Arathorn only had one thing in mind: the safety of his small family. He knew that his wife could defend herself, but he would feel better if he was by her side.
But, as fate would have it, he would never live long enough to reach her. Because has soon as he had spotted her fighting off a few orcs that had her cornered, he stopped caring about his surroundings and the only thing on his mind was to get to her. But an orc saw his opening, and shot an arrow towards the chieftain, mortally wounding him.
The last thing that Arathorn saw was Elrohir killing the orcs that were threatening his wife, while Elladan was protecting their backs. His lips curl into a small smile, knowing that even if he wasn't going to make it, the twins would always protect his family. Arathorn drew his last breath; the knowledge that his family would be safe made his passing somewhat peaceful. But, what he didn't know, and hadn't seen, was that Gilrean had also been mortally wounded, and would not make it to see another day.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elladan grunted as an arrow glanced off someone's shield, grazing his back. He paid it no attention though; a distraction now could very well end up fatal. A flash of movement out of the corner of his eye alerted him to the fact that Elrohir had finally taken down the captain. Elladan smirked. The captain had obviously under estimated his brother's fighting ability.
He quickly searched around for Arathorn, not seeing the man anywhere in the melee. He did however, notice Gilrean in front of one of the tents, wielding a sword as best she could. Although she was not nearly as skilled as Arathorn, she was holding her own. He began to hack and slash in rapid succession, cutting a path to her. It seemed that Elrohir had the same idea, Elladan noticed, as the younger twin was closer to Gilrean now than he.
As he came upon the immediate threat to Gilrean's safety, he noticed the woman was wounded, and badly. Elrohir busied himself with killing the nearest orcs as fast as possible, while Elladan made sure none got any closer.
As the elf ducked another swing, Elladan finally saw Arathorn, in the middle of the large brawl. His eyes widened in horror as an arrow felled his friend, causing the man to fall to the ground, dead before his head hit the dirt. Elladan snarled in grief and rage, doubling his attacks. One of his friends had already fallen in battle, he would make sure that none followed.
A loud cry went up from somewhere near the edge of the camp, and as one, the orcs retreated into the trees. Elladan was left standing, arms weary from battle, amidst a pile of orc bodies.
He turned, rushing to his brother's side just as Gilrean fell to the ground. She gave a long, shuddering breath, and blood dribbled down the side of her mouth.
"M-my son." She choked. "Where is...my son?"
Elladan locked eyes with his brother, and Elrohir rushed into the tent, coming back out with a small boy in his arms.
"We have him, Gilrean. He was in the tent." Elladan squeezed her hand gently.
"No-not Aragorn. Wh-where is ... his twin? Where is ... Arador?" She coughed again and a gurgling sound came from her chest. Her head fell to the side, limply lying on Elladan's arm, and her eyes stared into nothingness as death took her.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Dark Lord waited upon his throne for the Orc party to arrive. His flowing robes draped across the chair, and lied on the black stone floor. The man, if you could call him that, might have been handsome at one time. This was not true now, as every feature of his face was curled into an evil mask as if chiseled out of stone. His eyes could have once been warm and caring, but now they were like black ice. The dark orbs reflected only rage, and disgust.
His shoulder length hair matched the midnight color of his robes. One could possibly mistake him for a wise Istari, if they did not look into his face.
The Lord's long, slender fingers drummed on the arm of the chair. If there were one feeling that he hardly felt, it was boredom. It was not a feeling that he was used to. If a person could possibly call it boredom. He was anxious, almost impatient, for the Orcs to arrive.
His plan was almost complete. Only one thing had to be done before the Throne of Gondor would forever be abandoned. A party of his Orcs had already killed Arathorn, and that wench of a wife of his. Now, there was only one. The child. Aragorn, the Heir of Isildur. Once the boy was dead, it would be the end for the race of men.
The sounds of scuffling and a small cry alerted the evil Lord to the fact that the Orc party, and the child, were finally there. The man smiled and stood, waiting for them to enter.
The door burst open and five Orcs rushed in, two carrying a struggling child.
"Mama!" The small boys eyes were filled with terror, and he visibly trembled at the sight of the Dark One.
"A handful, that one. Was very tempted to just eat'em." The Captain of the Orcs said.
"It's very well that you didn't. The pleasure of killing the last of a line of great Kings will be mine." The Lord moved towards the boy.
"Tell me, Aragorn. How did it feel to watch your mother and father slayed before your very eyes? Knowing you're too small to make a difference. Perhaps they'd still be alive if they hadn't had to protect you. It's your fault they are dead. Your fault."
The man laughed evilly as the child's eyes filled with tears.
"Papa?" The child cried.
"No, your Papa is dead! Never to walk this Earth again, never to tell you bedtime stories, and NEVER.....to reclaim the Throne of Gondor."
The Orcs all laughed and jeered as the boy cried harder. His tears streaked across his face to splash on the cold, unforgiving floor.
"So, tell me, Aragorn. What are you to do now? You have no family. They're all dead."
The boy sniffled and held his head up stiffly. "I'm not Aragorn."
The man laughed at this.
"Really? Or are you just saying this out of fear?"
The boy looked him in the eye, and repeated, "I'm not Aragorn. I'm Arador."
The man paused at this, and strode over to him. Grasping the child's leg, he pulled the pants leg up to look at his ankle. On the ankle there were seven small stars tattooed in a circle. But no crown. The crown symbolizes the King, and even if the King is in exile, he would always wear the mark on his ankle. This was truly not Aragorn.
"If you are not Aragorn, then where is he?" The man shook the boy.
The boy sniffed. "Don't know."
The Dark Lord turned to the Orc Captain.
"You were instructed to bring me the Heir! You have failed. Where is the one I ordered you to bring?!"
The Orc cowered back. "I don't know, my Lord. He must have been taken by those two elves."
The man sneered. He knew who those elves were. The same two that were forever ruining his plans. Looking back at Arador, he had a sudden thought. He wouldn't be able to get Aragorn, because no doubt he was now residing in Rivendell. But, perhaps he could use Arador. Yes, that would work out perfectly...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Trin: *looks at Kar* That last bit was written like, last year. Before the summer. *shakes head* Do you think it qualifies as a cliffhanger?
Kar: *stares* Errr...well...not a *good* cliffie. But it is a small one.
Trin: *Glare* I'd like to see *you* do better!
Kar: *ahem* Fine, the next chapter, I get to write the cliffie.
Trin: *crosses arms* Fine.
Kar: Fine!
Aragorn: *looks at Legolas* Let's leave while they're distracted ...
Legolas: *nods and the both of them start sneaking out*
Kar: *pushes button, they get zapped unconscious*
Trin: *continuing* FINE!
Kar: F-I-N-E!!
*fades out*
.......*Fades back in*
PS: LOTS of Aragorn and Legolas in the next chapters....*ahem* *fades out again*
Psst. Reviews = very welcome. :-)