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Disclaimer:  I do not own any of the characters in LoTR.  All I own (so far) is Celeste. 


Authors Notes:  This is my first LoTR fanfic, even though I have been toying around with this idea for awhile.  I would really appreciate feedback because I want to know if I am portraying the characters correctly.  I don’t know how long it is going to take to write this, since I am a lowly college student and I will have to reread parts of the book in the future.  But I hope you guys stay on for the ride.  Catch ya on the flipside!



By: Emily


Honey-colored locks flowed halfway down her back, not a curl out of place as she stalked quietly down the barely-lit hall.  With her luminescent green eyes, perfectly shaped cheekbones, and full lips, she seemed to have the face of an angel.  But the slight scar running across her right eyebrow told otherwise.  This woman had seen her share of fighting.  And she wasn’t afraid of it.


She stopped suddenly in front of the door furthest down the hall, rapping lightly at the door.  A sultry smile crossed her lips as the door was opened and a man grinned back at her.


His open-mouthed grin showed the rotting teeth, ale dripping out of the side of his mouth.  A patch covered his right eye and a mess of brown hair stuck out in all different directions.  His ragged clothes were covered in an array of weaponry, giving the impression that he was a difficult man to kill.


But the woman paid no heed to it, instead stepping forward into the room and quietly closing the door behind her.  The man stepped towards her but as he reached for her, she swatted his hand away roughly.


“I want the information first,” she whispered, her voice clear.  “Then you’ll get your payment.”


The man shook his head, the grin firmly implanted.  “I’ve got the information that you need, little girl.  You’re not in the position to be ordering me around.”


In half the time it takes to blink, the man found himself shoved against the door, an iron grip around his neck.  Gone was the grin.  Shock now filled his features as his hands went to pull at the grip around his neck.  The struggled were useless, though, as her grip held.


“My boss doesn’t like it when people won’t cooperate,” she muttered flatly, her face unreadable.  “Let’s try again.  Give me the information and you’ll live through the night.”


His face visibly paled, even in the dimmest of candlelight, at the mention of her employer.  He had heard about him before – nobody knew his name but whenever someone crossed the girl, they were found dead.  For the first time since setting up the meeting with her, he began to regret his decision.


“Fine, fine,” he rasped hurriedly, his throat in pain from her grip.  “I guess I can give the information first.”


“Good,” she said, unexpectedly releasing her grip.  He dropped to the floor, his knees hitting heavily.  He glared at her as he slowly stood, towering over her by a foot.  Oh, how he would enjoy his part of the bargain later…


“Rumor has it that there’s a new company on the road.  A fellowship.  Not an ordinary one, though.  A whole assortment of creatures.  A wizard, an elf, a troll, two humans, and four hobbits.  No one knows where exactly they’re headed but they have something important they’re protecting.”


She rolled her eyes and sat back in a chair, crossing her legs.  Her skirt hitched up a couple inches and the man leered at her.  “I know this part – I’ve already heard it a dozen times.  What I want is information on the Ranger.  You told me you had it.”


“All in good time, girl,” he sneered, sitting down on the bed.  “So all of the people on this fellowship have something strange about them.  But the Ranger…there’s something different about him.  Strider is the name he goes by.  Nobody knows where he came from or where he lives, but he’s always around when someone’s in trouble.”


“But,” the man whispered, leaning forward.  The woman did the same, her chest straining against the leather bustier binding it.  “That’s not all I’ve heard.  Rumor is, he’s got another name.  He never answers to it and very few people know it, but they say that it’s true.  Aragorn or something like that.”


The woman stiffened inwardly, though she showed no reaction outwardly.  She knew that name.  Her boss had been searching for a person by that name for a long time.  And now, she knew who it was.  At least, she had one hell of a lead.


“Where was he last seen,” he demanded, interrupting the man.  “Do you have any idea?”


“The Mines of Moria,” he said.  “But that was awhile ago now.  Nobody’s seen him since then.  Maybe he was killed there.  Maybe he got lost.  Who knows?  But wherever he is, nobody knows.”


She nodded curtly, leaning back in her seat to digest all the information.  Her thoughts were interrupted by the obvious coughing of the man.  She focused her attention back at him and found that he was once again leering at her, patting the bed suggestively.


“I gave you what you want, girl,” he rasped.  “Now I want your part of the deal.”


She stood up, nodding.  “You did live up to your part of the bargain.  I guess I can live up to mine.”


She sauntered towards him, licking her lips slowly as she sat down.  He wrapped his arms around her, slowly undoing the ties at the back of her top.


“Tell me one more thing, though,” she whispered as he slowly pushed her down, nibbling slightly on her ears.  “What do you know of Sauron?”


“Bah!” he said, his face inches from hers, his hands slowly traveling down her back.  “Legend, really.  Darkness is growing but it is not from him.  He is merely a legend, told to kids to scare them.  He’s nothing to be afraid of – he is not in that mountain.  It is merely someone trying to bring back old myth.”


“You are not afraid that he could be here right now, watching you, listening to everything that you are saying?” she whispered, her hands slowly sliding down to his waist.  She slowly rubbed her hand against the ever-growing bulge of his pants, eliciting a moan of pleasure from him.  He was so caught up in his thoughts of pleasure and the night that he didn’t notice her other hand leaving his body and traveling slowly to her own thigh.  And he certainly didn’t notice the small dagger that she pulled out of its holster strapped to the outside of her thigh.


“I can take anything that the legend does.  It takes more than a has-been to defeat – “


His last words were lost in a gurgle she gouged the dagger into his stomach.  His eyes looked down at her passive face in shock.  She shoved him off of her, the dagger still imbedded in his stomach.  In reflex, he reached for one of his own weapons but she was too fast.  In a flash, she dragged the knife upwards, slicing him open.


As the last of life faded, she stared him directly in the eyes.  Her bright green eyes seemed to change for a moment, turning a blood red in color.  “Never underestimate Sauron.  He is going to tear this world apart.”


A chuckle built up in her throat as the dying man’s eyes glazed over.  She rolled off the bed, grabbing the sheet to clean the blood off of her clothes and dagger.  Without even a second glance to the mess on the bed, she walked out the door and closed it quietly behind her.


So it is true, she thought as she grabbed her stashed cloak from the corner of the bar.  Aragorn is alive.  The heir of Gondor does live.  Sauron will be most pleased to hear this information.  After all, I can’t let my father down.