Alias
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Rating:
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Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,533
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 2
Title: Alias 2
Author: Sivan Shemesh sivan325@walla.com
Beta: Tena - Hannon-le, mellon-nin
Rating: PG-13 or T
Disclaimer: Not mine, except the OC’s.
Timeframe: Pre-LotR. Aragorn is 49 years old.
Warning: Angst, violence, tissues alert.
Summary: Aragorn finds himself in a strange situation, and then in the dungeons of Gondor. But who is it that wants him dead so badly and why?
A/N: Written for the EAC entry, ‘Prejudice in Middle-Earth.’
2.
“Daren, wait!” the other man called, and then hurried to explain, “He might want to deal with him himself, and he wants him alive, not dead!”
Daren looked at Aragorn, a smile still masked his face, and said to Strider, “I will make you pay, you filthy man.” And then he spat on him, and walked back to his horse, and mounted.
Aragorn sighed with relief, and wondered who it was that wanted him that bad.
Aragorn kept his mouth shut, not wanted to be whipped by the man, knowing that if he would say anything the man might not hesitate and whip him with no second thought.
“Get this filthy man from the ground, and bound him to his horse, do not let him fall, he will get away soon if he falls.” The leader said to them with fierce voice, as he glared at Aragorn.
Aragorn swallowed the lump in his throat as they settled him on his horse forcefully.
Aragorn could feel the rope tear his skin, but dared not say a word, not wishing to tempt their cruelty, not yet, not until he figured who was behind all this.
“Ramin, take the edge of the rope, and hold it tight if he tries to do anything.” The leader pointed at the other young man who rode beside Aragorn’s horse.
Aragorn moved his eyes slowly at the man, beside him, and was surprise to find a boy wearing men’s clothes. ‘He is still a boy.’ He thought, but said nothing.
Ramin stared at Aragorn with wondering gaze, wondering why he was the one to hold the rope, while the men around him were staring at Aragorn with daggers in their eyes. He knew he was the one that helped his family.
Ramin noticed that Daren took the man’s horse’s reins in his hands, and said something to him, “Move boy, I am not waiting, and grab the rope tight, do not let it slip from your soft hand!”
‘Poor boy.’ Aragorn thought as he kept his eyes on the boy. He hoped that if he continued to watch him he would see there was innocence in his eyes. He hoped maybe the boy would help get him loose.
But they might kill the boy as well. He did not wish that the boy would die because of his action.
He shut his mouth as they led his horse back to Minas Tirith, though he still could feel Daren's eyes upon him as he rode.
Once they approached Minas Tirith, Daren told the guards to throw the filthy man to dungeon at once, and then to beat him.
The guards untied Aragorn, and with no mercy, they pushed him against the wall, and each one, started to beat him.
Aragorn’s hands were still tied, and he could not fight back; he was defenseless.
Taking beating after beating, Aragorn let the darkness take him, as the beating continued.
Daren smiled and stopped the guards, "That is enough for now, let the cold in the dungeon wake him, and send a word to the Steward of Gondor to claim his prize."
Alias
Later that day…
Aragorn felt the pain piercing him; waking him from the unconscious term he was in, feeling the cold floor, and knowing he was alone, and hurt.
Aragorn wanted to know why he was back in Minas Tirith at all, and he tried to remember the reason why those cruel men took him with brutality like this.
He stared at the ceiling, trying to remember, but it was with no success at all. His head was hurt, and the beating pounding in his head did not stop as much as he wanted it to.
Aragorn heard heavy steps; he took deep breaths, and waited as he lay on the cold floor.
“Take him! It is time!” Daren snarled as his eyes stabbed Aragorn when the guards dragged him from the bed with firm hands.
Daren’s eyes seemed black to Aragorn, like some power sucked in his body, not knowing why this man is so cruel to him.
Daren’s hair was brown, and somehow he was familiar to him, but he let go of the thought, and he figured that he might have a concussion.
The dizziness though seemed never stopped, and the pounding continued, but he had no one to help him right now.
He could hear them talking but it was too blurring, as he did not link to whom they were talking about.
“What do you think that he will do with this filthy man?” One of the guards asked Daren.
“That will be his choice of how to deal with him, why? Do you feel sorry for him?” Daren snapped at the guard.
“No, I was just curious of what he did to make our lord to act like this.” The guard replied with cold tone, as he stared at Daren.
“Everything.” Daren answered.
The guard nodded and yet did not seemed satisfied with the answer the man gave him, and he felt that he needed to know more.
“SILENCE!” But harsh and cold voice stopped the guard to say anything.
The gates were open, and Daren walked toward the Steward of Gondor, bowed to him, and said with smirk, “He is here, my lord.”
The Steward nodded, as he saw the guards throwing the man in front of him. He rubbed his hands, as now he could accomplish his plan, and now even his father could not stop him.
Denethor, Son of Ecthelion II, left the crown chair where he sat, and walked over to Thorongil. He was also known as Strider of the North, and as Aragorn, the one that he followed by the palantir, watching every move that he and the Maia did.
Yes, Denethor had his reasons to kill Isildur’s heir.
End of Chapter 2
Author: Sivan Shemesh sivan325@walla.com
Beta: Tena - Hannon-le, mellon-nin
Rating: PG-13 or T
Disclaimer: Not mine, except the OC’s.
Timeframe: Pre-LotR. Aragorn is 49 years old.
Warning: Angst, violence, tissues alert.
Summary: Aragorn finds himself in a strange situation, and then in the dungeons of Gondor. But who is it that wants him dead so badly and why?
A/N: Written for the EAC entry, ‘Prejudice in Middle-Earth.’
2.
“Daren, wait!” the other man called, and then hurried to explain, “He might want to deal with him himself, and he wants him alive, not dead!”
Daren looked at Aragorn, a smile still masked his face, and said to Strider, “I will make you pay, you filthy man.” And then he spat on him, and walked back to his horse, and mounted.
Aragorn sighed with relief, and wondered who it was that wanted him that bad.
Aragorn kept his mouth shut, not wanted to be whipped by the man, knowing that if he would say anything the man might not hesitate and whip him with no second thought.
“Get this filthy man from the ground, and bound him to his horse, do not let him fall, he will get away soon if he falls.” The leader said to them with fierce voice, as he glared at Aragorn.
Aragorn swallowed the lump in his throat as they settled him on his horse forcefully.
Aragorn could feel the rope tear his skin, but dared not say a word, not wishing to tempt their cruelty, not yet, not until he figured who was behind all this.
“Ramin, take the edge of the rope, and hold it tight if he tries to do anything.” The leader pointed at the other young man who rode beside Aragorn’s horse.
Aragorn moved his eyes slowly at the man, beside him, and was surprise to find a boy wearing men’s clothes. ‘He is still a boy.’ He thought, but said nothing.
Ramin stared at Aragorn with wondering gaze, wondering why he was the one to hold the rope, while the men around him were staring at Aragorn with daggers in their eyes. He knew he was the one that helped his family.
Ramin noticed that Daren took the man’s horse’s reins in his hands, and said something to him, “Move boy, I am not waiting, and grab the rope tight, do not let it slip from your soft hand!”
‘Poor boy.’ Aragorn thought as he kept his eyes on the boy. He hoped that if he continued to watch him he would see there was innocence in his eyes. He hoped maybe the boy would help get him loose.
But they might kill the boy as well. He did not wish that the boy would die because of his action.
He shut his mouth as they led his horse back to Minas Tirith, though he still could feel Daren's eyes upon him as he rode.
Once they approached Minas Tirith, Daren told the guards to throw the filthy man to dungeon at once, and then to beat him.
The guards untied Aragorn, and with no mercy, they pushed him against the wall, and each one, started to beat him.
Aragorn’s hands were still tied, and he could not fight back; he was defenseless.
Taking beating after beating, Aragorn let the darkness take him, as the beating continued.
Daren smiled and stopped the guards, "That is enough for now, let the cold in the dungeon wake him, and send a word to the Steward of Gondor to claim his prize."
Alias
Later that day…
Aragorn felt the pain piercing him; waking him from the unconscious term he was in, feeling the cold floor, and knowing he was alone, and hurt.
Aragorn wanted to know why he was back in Minas Tirith at all, and he tried to remember the reason why those cruel men took him with brutality like this.
He stared at the ceiling, trying to remember, but it was with no success at all. His head was hurt, and the beating pounding in his head did not stop as much as he wanted it to.
Aragorn heard heavy steps; he took deep breaths, and waited as he lay on the cold floor.
“Take him! It is time!” Daren snarled as his eyes stabbed Aragorn when the guards dragged him from the bed with firm hands.
Daren’s eyes seemed black to Aragorn, like some power sucked in his body, not knowing why this man is so cruel to him.
Daren’s hair was brown, and somehow he was familiar to him, but he let go of the thought, and he figured that he might have a concussion.
The dizziness though seemed never stopped, and the pounding continued, but he had no one to help him right now.
He could hear them talking but it was too blurring, as he did not link to whom they were talking about.
“What do you think that he will do with this filthy man?” One of the guards asked Daren.
“That will be his choice of how to deal with him, why? Do you feel sorry for him?” Daren snapped at the guard.
“No, I was just curious of what he did to make our lord to act like this.” The guard replied with cold tone, as he stared at Daren.
“Everything.” Daren answered.
The guard nodded and yet did not seemed satisfied with the answer the man gave him, and he felt that he needed to know more.
“SILENCE!” But harsh and cold voice stopped the guard to say anything.
The gates were open, and Daren walked toward the Steward of Gondor, bowed to him, and said with smirk, “He is here, my lord.”
The Steward nodded, as he saw the guards throwing the man in front of him. He rubbed his hands, as now he could accomplish his plan, and now even his father could not stop him.
Denethor, Son of Ecthelion II, left the crown chair where he sat, and walked over to Thorongil. He was also known as Strider of the North, and as Aragorn, the one that he followed by the palantir, watching every move that he and the Maia did.
Yes, Denethor had his reasons to kill Isildur’s heir.
End of Chapter 2