Disclaimer:I do not own either works, nor do I profit from posting this but in terms of writing experience. The characters and plot belong to their respective creators and companies.

Full Summary: It was to be the final showdown, the battle that would free him from his blonde shadow. But when was anything straightforward with the dobe; yet he would not change what happened for anything in the world. When that cheerful little man said he was to meant to protect and marry Nature's daughter (as he did with Goldberry), Sasuke never expected to finally have the family, the children, he had dreamed of as a genin. But now he finds his family being taken from his grasp as they are pulled into the struggles of the free peoples against the Power in the East. WARNINGS: amnesia, OC's, character death (not a likable character), gender-bending.

A/N:I was inspired by primarily two stories, but only in how the situation came to be. I'm experimenting a little in the writing, but if the first part is obnoxious, feel free to skip down; I'm not a fan of abstract things but it felt appropriate to begin the story this way. This will also go in a very different direction than other LOTR-Naruto cross-overs. So I hope you all will give it a chance and enjoy it. Thank you ~ depresedchildren

Key:

"Words" westron

"Words" another language being spoken (i.e. sidarian or Japanese)

Kusnagi a sign or title (i.e. Prancing Pony).

Chapitre 1

Electricity

Yellow eyes - rectangular slits

Portal – widening

Yelling

Electricity

Birds - chirping

Metal - clashing

Natural energy

Portal – SPREADING

Electricity - out of control

SCREAMS

PAIN

Copper – filling mouth

YELLING

Portal - consuming, CLOSING … nothing

The clatter of steel against a stone floor filled the air followed by the dull thud of an iron hammer and prongs.

"Dû?" the feminine voice drifted through the heavy air toward him. He stayed in his place, where he stared forward into the furnace as he tried to compose himself.

"Love, is something wrong?" he bowed his head and closed eyes slowly as if to block out the voice which he now knew was speaking in Japanese, their native language. But the woman called to him again, "Dû? Why aren't you answering me?" A creak and a rustling of cloth came from the room behind him. "Dû!?" the woman was panicking and he could hear her faint steps approaching the door which sealed the smith off from the rest of their home.

"Arad," his voice came out rough and thick. He coughed in an attempt to clear away such tones. "I'm fine," his voice was still thick.

He looked over his shoulder at the closed door. The light behind it was blocked partly by the woman behind it. He heard the light thud of the wooden door tapping the jamb when the woman set her hand against the door. He could see her in his mind's eye. She would be frowning, and a determined set would be in her yellow eyes.

"The smoke is bad for the baby," he stated, and for once his voice was neutral and smooth. He tilted his head back and licked his lips. He could imagine her frown turning into a pout as she glared at the door with her arms folded over her protruding stomach.

"Dû?" the woman almost whined; she clearly would not give up.

"I overheated," he called to the still closed door. "I just need to get some air," he stated as he heard a sigh.

"If you say so..." he could imagine her glaring harder at the door, but it would be endearing not withering and her brow would scrunch from her attempt. "Will you take Dawn with you?" she asked, "She just woke from her nap."

He dropped his head and closed his eyes tighter, but he straightened and forced his expression into neutrality. He picked up the fallen hammer and used the prongs to pick up the sword lest it still be too hot to touch. Kusanagi. He remade the chokutō he had used in what now seemed like another life.

For months he felt drawn to creating a sword, straight like the swords he forged for the "guards" of this town, but his sword was too thin and sharp to be a long sword. It was like when he had made the kunai and throwing stars which were now scattered around the smith. He did not know what he was doing, or why he was doing it but something in his subconscious told him to make these weapons and told him they were familiar. In deed he knew how to use all of them with an ease he had first found alarming. But now all made sense.

He set the chokutō on the anvil and set the forging hammer beside it. He closed his eyes briefly before he spun around and headed toward the door. He knew she would not be patient and if he did not leave soon, she would risk their unborn child to the harmful fumes from the furnace.

He opened the door and slipped into the rest of the house. She was standing beside the door and as he moved past her toward the stairs, he felt her hand on his soot covered bicep. The gentle yet unrelenting pull forced him to face her. He felt his stomach clench when he looked down onto her sharp yet rounded features. Her wide yellow eyes searched his expression and her other hand came to rest on his chest.

He froze at the connection and he felt his heart beat pick up pace, but his face gave nothing away. As she held him longer he began to force his sight to go out of focus by looking at the dust motes drifting between them.

"Dû…" she whispered before she sighed and dropped her head. When she brought it back up she pressed her lips together in displeasure as she "glared" at him with her hands crossed under her bust.

"Go clean up," she ordered as she began to waddle away, "I'll get Dawn ready," she waved her hand almost dismissively.

He sagged when her back turned from him but he hurried up the stairs to their room and arrived at a water basin. He began scrubbing away as much soot as he could from his arms before he worked on his neck and face. By the time he was finished the water in the basin was the color of pitch. He opened the window in the room and dumped the soiled water before he cleaned out the basin with a rag. He quickly changed into a tunic and rough-spun breeches.

When he came to the foot of the stairs he was met by the sight of his wife wrapping their little girl in a cloak. She was kneeling and her large belly stretched the fabric of her rough-spun dress so that he could see every curve. Dawn's pudgy arms and legs moved about as the woman tried to pin the wool cloak around the squirming child. She was still in her sleeping gown but she now had wool stockings covering her feet.

A smile came unbidden to his face. He caught his wife's eyes when she glanced up from her task, and she gave him a pleased smile in return. He stiffened minutely but quickly spurred himself to action. He grabbed his own cloak from its hook near the door which led out to the main road.

"Dawn," he called the girl softly by her westron name. She now had her cloak fastened in place. She turned around and made a pleased noise, almost like a squeal. Her smile was still gummy despite teeth popping up here and there. He felt a smile turn up the corner of his lips again. He knelt down by the door as his wife helped their daughter to her feet. The little girl then began to waddle toward her father who had his arms out in front of him. She gave a gleeful laugh and ran on her wobbly legs toward him.

He scooped her up and into his arms once she reached him. He then stood up with the girl giggling into his ear. He quickly slipped his feet into his boots and gave a nod to the woman who now sat in a rocking chair next to the fireplace sharpening a kunai. She was smiling as she ran the wet stone against one of the sharp edges and watched the two exit the house and onto the muddy main street.

He paused once he heard the door close and took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. He waited for a horse drawn cart to pass him before he continued down the main street. It was unpaved with deep ruts from carts passing through the town. He nodded to the hobbits and men alike who greeted him, and Dawn pointed at everything around and asked in her inarticulate way what things were.

He felt his mouth twitch up at the corner as he grabbed her hand from where it was in front of his face. He chuckled at her antics and nudged her check with his nose before he kissed her on the forehead. She had ducked at the nudge and now wrapped her arms around her father's neck. She was twenty months old and if all went well, she would be twenty-three months older than her sibling.

It would be her last sibling if he had any say in the matter, which he did, because his wife would never be unfaithful to him. He now found himself at the gates of the village and just beyond the wooden structure was the Greenway. With a sigh he turned around.

He had hoped the walk would give him time to process things but that did not seem to be the case. Usually time alone let him think, but now all he could think of was how betrayed his wife would feel someday, when she too regained her memories. It made his skin crawl and his stomach flutter in unease.

Part of him wanted to run away, but when he heard his little girl laugh it stopped him. When he looked down upon her angelic face he felt any resolve melt. She had him wrapped around her little finger and she wasn't even conscious of it.

Her cherub face smiled that gummy smile that made him swear off all his past ambitions and made him want to start anew. Her hair was a slate color, much like his brother's had been. Her eyes were so dark her pupils blended into her irises just like her father. Her complexion was several shades darker than his and her eyes were much wider and more expressive than his.

How could he – they – have created this perfect and beautiful creature. How could he have produced something so pure and wonderful when blood covered his hands and his past crimes spanned at least a league? He thought he had given up on his dream of restoring his clan, but when he looked at her he felt such a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment. He could burst with happiness - as impossible the notion seemed when he considered all the woe that had colored his life.

His feet carried him back to his house. He opened the door and once inside he proceeded to remove his shoes.

"Welcome," his wife paused in her westron greeting for she finally looked up and saw her husband in the doorway. She was manning their shop since she could not forge in her condition.

"Love," she greeted again in their native tongue. She set down her sharpening tools. "How was the walk?" she struggled to her feet, one hand braced her lower back. Once she was upright she gazed at her husband who had moved farther into their home and was removing the cloak from around their daughter so that she would not overheat.

"You seem more troubled," she stated bluntly with her brow scrunched up and a frown marring her features. Her words caused him to pause for a moment in his actions, but it was not very noticeable since Dawn was squirming and made it difficult to unfasten the cloak.

"What makes you say that?" he asked casually while he continued to work at removing his daughter's cloak.

She scoffed and moved toward the counter which held some of their wares. "Oh I don't know," she started and rolled her eyes, "perhaps the fact that you're acting more…wall-ish than usual," she spun around and glared at him with her peculiar eyes. When they had customers she used what he now knew was an illusion to make them appear less…toad like.

He couldn't stare at her anymore, not when he knew the truth of everything.

"Arad, I'm tired, that's all," he sighed when he heard her humph. He looked down at his little girl and ruffled her hair. She was quiet as she looked up at her parents; it was as if she knew something was off as well. He gave a small smile and placed a kiss on her forehead. She smiled in turn.

He then stood up and began his way toward the forge.

"I thought you said you were tired?" there was an almost deadly edge to her words and he could see her in his mind's eye with her lips pulled back in a snarl while her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

He continued moving despite her words.

"So you're going back in there!?" she asked indignantly and he could imagine she threw her arms to either side of her in exasperation as she did her best to glare at him, but her face would be too red and her face was not meant for glaring.

He paused with his hand resting against the door, "Arad, we are behind in work and I will not risk your health or our child's health. I have ten more shoes to make with nails and a new iron crossing for the town gate. I will rest when I am finished with that," in his mind's eye he could see the glare remaining on her face but her shoulders would lower and her body would relax.

"So be it."

He closed the door behind him and began working to get the furnace back up to its proper heat. He quickly shed his tunic and threw on one of the spare smith-aprons. Before long he had his chokutō hissing in the furnace alongside what would become a horseshoe. He removed his sword and began hammering it into perfection. The now familiar ring of metal on metal comforted him and left his mind in silence, a much needed silence.

A suivre

A/N: . So…yes Sasuke is blacksmith, why don't I say his name, because I have not written his real name and he has not thought about. If it is too obnoxious I can easily admen that sooner than I planned to. Also, Sasuke might seem a little OOC, but I have come to the belief that if he was taken away from Konoha and all that had ruined his life, he would be a much better person and he could actually find happiness in life. I also believe that if had a child in such circumstances, it would be precious to him and he would become an even better person.

Aragorn will be coming in next chapter and you will see Sasuke acting more Sasuke like. Eventually Aragorn will not be the LOTR main character but at the beginning he will be and I will be centering some segments from his perspective (not first person though). I will do my best. I love the series but I am only on my third read through and I hate reading the Shire/Rivendel parts (why? I don't know, I'm weird but I also haven't read the Hobbit)