Dying does not feel the way he thought it would.

He has staved off death for millennia. He is the greatest of all mortal men, the only one who was strong enough to follow the call of immortality. The others followed behind him, and for their fear, they still do so, even though an Age has passed since they first became more than just Men.

And he is the greatest of them all, destined to live forever. Even as his Lord fell, he lived on – for who has ever heard of a woman on the battlefield? He is immortal, and the thought of death has passed from his mind in a way it could never leave the minds of his companions. Death is of no concern for the creature that could not die.

At least, it is not until the Rohirrm takes off his – her, he supposes – helmet as he strides to kill another king, the way countless others had died at his blade. The horse-riders have always been strange, even when he had still been mortal and they were nothing but nomads wandering on Gondorian land. It should not have surprised him to see one of their women fighting a war.

But he had stopped guarding against the possibility of death when his prophecy was spoken, and seeing her in front of him, he foolishly makes the decision to continue his attack. She is perhaps the only one who could destroy him, but he is confident in his abilities – he has been alive since before her oldest ancestor was born, and one so inexperienced would never be able to wound him, let alone kill.

That is his mistake. Her blade slices through the air, and neatly cleaves his mount's neck. Her blade rises once again, and though he moves to parry, some primal part of him that he was sure was lost knows he is going to die.

He is not ready for death. He is immortal, invincible, and she is just an unimportant mortal woman who- the blade flies through the air.

When he wakes, it is in a world he does not recognise.

He can still feel the woman's blade. It has been so long since he felt pain that he struggles to identify the feeling at first – and when he does, it is more with a sense of wonder than anger.

He never thought he would feel pain again.

And it is then that he becomes aware of the other sensation. It is as though his recognition of the pain has opened a channel, and he is suddenly besieged by hunger, a hunger so overwhelming and all-consuming that he struggles to stop himself from falling into despair. Even as a mortal, he was a king – and when he became more, there were always willing servants. A hunger like this is something he has never felt.

The woman who wanders across his path is like a miracle. It would have been just as good had it been a man, but this woman has gold hair, and it feels like revenge against the horse-maiden.

He does not know what he is doing – he has never fed like this before – but he approaches her and bends his head. The light that comes out to feed him is like the most expensive and delicious food the world has to offer.

After that, he wanders, searching for more lights to consume, not caring where he goes until he reaches the water. And he looks down, and for the first time since he awoke, he sees himself.

His cloak is in tatters, and yet somehow, it covers his entire body. His face is covered by both hood and shadows. He is no longer who he used to be – but he is alive, and he has the ability to keep himself alive now that he has the knowledge of how to obtain the lights.

This world is not his own, but from what he has seen, there are people everywhere – more than enough to feed him. Seeing himself like this, he knows what he must do.

It was death that sent him here, and he knows that it did the same to the others, knows it through the rings that they all wear, though his is the greatest of the nine. He is a king, and he just needs to find his subjects.

After all, they have a world to conquer.

A/N: Yeah, I have no idea where my mind was when I thought up this one...
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