Shaken…

When writing, I used to just have one document that I’d keep typing in. Ideas, random thoughts, full or incomplete stories–I’d just keep typing, and hit enter a few times to separate things until it got so big that it annoyed me scrolling to the bottom and I’d make another. Well, I was scrolling through one of these documents when I found… this. I’m not sure what it was for or what I had in mind, but it made me chuckle.

 

 

 

Aragorn stood exhausted, leaning on his sword as steam poured from the fresh corpses around him, filling the chilly night air with the stench of blood.

They had known he was coming, there was no other reason a band of Uruk-hai would be roaming these woods, so far from any place of import. He looked at the scrap of parchment clenched in his bleeding fist. What else could they know, if they knew of this place?

Wind hissed through leaves and pulled at branches, filling the wood with creaks and moans. Aragorn turned in a circle, searching the dark for any sign of light. It should have happened by now. Gandalf had predicted the time down to the very minute, and the wizard was rarely wrong.

He was beginning to wonder if the orcs had somehow managed to sabotage the spell when a crack like the snapping of a hundred bones shattered the silence and the air was filled with the buzzing of a thousand hornets. Aragorn spun to on his heels and was met with a sight that reeled his senses.

It was the width of two men, and the height of three, and shone white with the brilliance of ten moons. The edges were sharp and precise- a doorway cut into the very air. Aragorn shook at the sight of it, even the Dark Lord Sauron could not accomplish such power as this.

A figure was silhouetted against the light, a man, moving forward out of the gate. As he got closer, Aragorn could make out short dark hair, a clean shaved face, and strange dark clothing.

The man stepped up to Aragorn, surveying the scene with a cold disdain. One hand pulled at a decorative bow that adorned his neck, and the other extended forward in greeting.

“The name is Bond. James Bond. I believe you have a message for me.”

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