Come to Morning Through The Shadows

Fractured

WARNING:

Depictions of violence

Minor Character Death

Part II Prologue:

The sky was heavy, the threat of rain lingering in the wind. He could smell the damp air as he cut through the open field, passing by rocks and the sparse trees that still clung to the barren, ashen earth.

In the distance, he could see the small spark of torchlight, flickering like orange beacons against the blackened sky.

The darkness set his heart ill at ease and he urged his mount to move faster through the growing storm and the gathering clouds.

The faintest cry of a crow sounded overhead, the long, drawn howl of a horn whirring through the air as he tightened his grip on the reigns.

'Come on' he growled silently at his horse, willing it to move faster, to obey his plea.

He had to get to them-to warn them of what was coming.

He had to do something, anything, after what had happened...

'They have no idea'

Anger boiled in his veins, coursing through his fingers like a firestorm and he let the thought of revenge seep into every pore, into every thought.

Both would rue the day they decided to contend against him, against those he swore to protect.

He would demand a price for their meddling, a heavy fine.

And they would pay.

He'd make sure of it.

*****

Chapter 12:

A tall, dark orc towered above Aragorn, curved sword drawn and pointed towards the man.

All about them, the battle raged on. However, it was this orc that stood between him and Denethor-Denethor, who fought valiantly against the onslaught that surrounded him.

The man of Gondor had blown his horn, begging for aid.

And Aragorn had answered.

Though, he was the only one to answer the call.

Anger rolled through his veins at the calculated nature of this attack, the convenience the orcs enjoyed at the fellowship's expense.

By design, the company had been separated and were to be picked off in their vulnerable state.

No aid would be coming for Aragorn and Denethor, of that the man was certain.

The ranger grunted as his sword clashed against the orc's blade, his muscles straining against the force of the beast's attack.

With another grunt, the man squared his shoulders and twisted his wrist to the left, forcing his sword to slide upwards, across the orc's curved, black weapon. As his blade crossed the tip of the orc's own blade, Aragorn angled his hand upward and pressed his weight into the sword, his tip forcing the orc's blade back.

The orc was swift to retaliate, though, and brought his sword forwards again.

Then the creature did something the man did not expect. Sweeping his sword at the last second, the orc caught Aragorn off guard, his curved blade slicing against the ranger's arm.

Aragorn let out a hiss as he jerked to the side, trying to avoid the force of the blow directed at him. The orc, however, was not finished with him and brought his sword around again, this time sweeping his leg against Aragorn's knees, forcing the ranger off balance and to the ground.