Part 1 of the story I'm writing.

So, I've decided to try and create a story that explains how Aragorn goes from the Lord of the Rings realm to the Star Wars universe. This is the first portion of it. Tell me what you think.


The 4th age. Saruon’s defeat was final and there was peace through Middle-Earth. Aragorn surveyed the once war ridden land that he ruled. His mind flashed back to Minas Tirith in ruins as he, accompanied by Legolas, Gimli and the Army of the Dead, arrived on the Black Ships. He thought about how hopeless it all felt but how much he had. It was a constant war raging inside him. Jumping out of the ship, all the courage he had rose up in him and all the fear and hopelessness left him as his feet hit the ground. Wielding Anduril, he lead Rohan, Gondor and all of his friends to victory that day.
“Aragorn?” Arwen inquired. He turned to see his wife. A stunningly beautiful elf of Rivendell and the Mother of his child, Eldarion. He loved her more than anything he could imagine. Through every step of his long journey, she was there. The Evenstar he wore around his neck was the steady reminder of her undying love for her and the night where she forsook her immortal life just to be with him. An ultimate sacrifice for him, for their love.

“Are you alright? You seem troubled, distant.” Arwen said with a worry.

“I’m fine. Merely looking over Pelennor Fields and remembering all that transpired last age. All the war, grief and death.”

“Always focusing on the negative, are we? What of the life we brought into the world? The lives we saved and the friends we reunited as well as the people we freed from enslavement?” said a frustrated Arwen. She knew he was thinker, he always had been. He’s a ranger and the last of the Dunedain and a Numenorian, he had to always be thinking to survive the life he had. It worried her that his mind always went to the grief and faults of his. To the different things he did and how he would always say “If only I could have done this better”.

“I know we did much good but people remember more the loses than the victories with as much time that has passed. Yes, we rid Middle-Earth of evil, but many people lost sons, daughters and homes through it.” Aragorn said depressingly

“You of all people should know that in war, much must be risked and things are beyond your control for a reason. You can’t save everyone or everything.” Arwen said as she walked and put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

“I know but you know how I am. It’s always on my mind” he said somberly

“Then come, let us rest. It’s late and sleep has eluded you as of late. Try to sleep tonight.” Arwen said desperately. He would spend hours in the archives looking for something. He called it “his great mystery”. She knew he was speaking of the Palantir’s. The lost seeing stones that allowed communication with others who held the stone and possessed magical qualities that allowed you to see into the future. All of them have been accounted for save one and he was always searching for it.

“I’ll be along shortly. I’ve found new information for this mystery and I’m so close to it.” With sadness, Arwen nodded and walked away. She knew shortly meant hours The man she knew was still in there but he was distracted and hungry for something and she didn’t know what it was nor did she like what it was doing to him. It’ll be ok, Arwen. He’ll find it soon and everything will be back to what it was.

Aragorn saw the sadness in her eyes as she turned to go to bed. He hated to see it but for whatever reason, he always pushed it aside. He was focused, determined and nothing was going to get in the way in finding this.

Year 2308, 2nd Age,
I’ve found something in the lore of the Palantir’s…Something…Disturbing. The Eldar created these stones to provide magical insight to those worthy enough to have this kind of responsibility. The ability to see the future and communicate so clearly over long distances was unparalleled and extremely powerful. Very few held this ability but somebody begged the question, what if all the Palantir’s were united? What would happen? Nobody could find the answer. Many people searched but nobody ever got a definitive answer. It was said that something mystical would happen, something life altering. Something that if the right person possessed the power, could alter the course of the future to the holder of all 4 Palantir’s choosing. To this day, the only thing we have gathered is that a gateway is opened because one person had done it. Xelathar was his name. A powerful Numenorian wizard hungry for knowledge and power sought out the Palantir’s to further his goal. A relatively neutral person with masked, ambiguous intentions always roamed the lands and inquired with every person he met about any magical knowledge. He was a person with insatiable thirst for power and he wouldn’t stop till he had it. Xelathar had found all the Palantir’s after years of searching. Once he united them all in a circle, something happened. He described it as lights dazzling, machines roaring and languages that he had never heard all being spoken at an intense volume at the same time. His head began to ring and it felt like it would implode if he couldn’t get away. He covered his ears “Make it stop!” he yelled at the top of his long. He glanced inside the dazzling lights to the portal to see a green bug-eyed figure stare at him “Ichuta” it said. He screamed in terror and ran away, tripping over one of the Palantir’s, breaking the circle. The portal disappeared in a thunderous roar. It imploded and let out a crack and a shock wave that shot Xelathar 20 feet away. He gathered himself and contemplated what just happened and all the power it was. He looked at where the Palantir’s were and he walked towards them. Every step he took, his heart beat faster and faster. For the first time, he was afraid of power. He analyzed the place in the jungle where he summoned the portal. Trees were decimated, animals lay dead everywhere and burnt terrain was all over. He walked over to the Palantir’s and saw the glow they had, a white hot glow that enticed him to touch. The power he saw surging through them was too much to resist though he knew what they just did. He reached out and grabbed one and it burned as white hot as it looked. He screamed in pain and released his grasp on the stones for fear of losing his hands. Even after he released the stone, he felt the burning course through his entire being. Before he could focus more intensely on this surging feeling, the Palantir’s shot up into the air, spun around faster and faster and finally shooting into four different directions. As he watched each of the stones fly away, the power he felt left him and he was cold. He felt dark and alone but another thing he felt for the first time was an acceptance of not having power. He had felt as much as he wanted and that was enough.

“NO!” Aragorn slammed his fist on the table in anger. “There has to be more than this!” Aragorn paced in frustration as he did almost every time he read Xelathar’s account. He poured over it hundreds of times night after night just hoping he missed something, something that was the key to finding the lost seeing stones. 3 had been accounted for and were now safely in the vaults of Minas Tirith. The one that is still unaccounted for had to be in this account somewhere, or at least some mention of it. Such were his hopes and dreams and it consumed him. Every day, he thought of where it could be and how he could find them. Still getting nowhere, Aragorn put the parchment down and went to bed. He laid there next to Arwen just imagining what this portal looked like, what all the languages sounded like and what this green bug like creature was. Do they speak in the tongues of Men or of Elvish? So many more questions surged through his mind. After hours of wondering, he fell asleep.



Morning came and he awoke rather hastily. Arwen had already gone to attend to her Queenly duties and Aragorn had his duties to perform as well. He grabbed his finest garments and put them on for his meeting today. He had arranged to meet with some people who said they knew of Palantir lore and rumored places of the last Palantir. Checking the position of the sun, he knew the time was slipping away and the meeting time was quickly approaching. His heart began to beat faster at the thought of the information he was about to be presented would finally lead him to his dream. His desire for food and water suddenly diminished and he went to the stables to get his horse, Brego. He unlatched Brego from the stall and got prepared to ride out. He talked to nobody unless he was spoken to. He was too focused, too determined to carry on any type of conversation. He hooked his trusted sword Anduril onto the saddle. He checked his person for his dagger but not for anything else. He had water but didn’t care about it, only weapons to possibly defend him if needed. With every intention on acting on this information as soon as he acquired it, he had to be prepared for anything. He began to ride out to the meeting place just outside of Osgiliath and then thought of Arwen. She had no idea he was leaving nor for how long or why. He rode till he found a servant to relay the message he would be gone for some time and to expect his return within 3 days time. The servant bowed in recognition and respect of his King and went away to fulfill the King’s request.

With that finished, Aragorn rode out to Osgiliath, the still war torn city almost restored to its fully glory. There were still scars from catapults and the claws of the beasts the Nazgul rode into battle all those years ago, though it seemed like only yesterday when he recanted the story in his head. The troops there paid him respect as he rode by “Hail, King Aragorn!” they all shouted as he rode by. He acknowledged them with a fake smile and the raise of a hand. The meeting place was the Falls of Rauros, just north-east of Osgiliath. The rangers of Gondor used to use it as a base to ambush incoming legions of Haradarim during the 3rd age. It was out of sight behind roaring waterfalls, the perfect secret place for a meeting such as this. Aragorn wasn’t afraid of what people would think meeting these people here, he just felt secrecy was best when it came to such a power. Nobody needed to know what he may find out and misuse it or worse, beat him to the last Palantir.

The falls roared with an intimidating yet calming sound. He approached the main waterfall and combed through the rocks around it. The passage into the base had been sealed and only he and 4 others knew where it was and how to undo the seal. He felt each stone individually, feeling for a familiar groove that would be his key inside. He found it and spoke the Elvish word to open it. Maelon he said as the rocks lit up with a bright light and dissipated revealing a door into the base. He went to the outlook to watch for these 2 men that were here to present the information. The time was close so he was looking high and low for them. He surveyed every area he could find but he saw no sign of them. He began to question their legitimacy and started to wonder where they were. It was half past 2 in the afternoon by now and they were to be there some time ago. He moved across the base once more to the last fall he checked before he just went back to Minas Tirith. Walking over to the last outlook, he was greeted by two hooded figures. He drew his sword and was ready to fight if necessary.

“There’s no need for that, my King. We are not here to harm, merely to give information and do what is pleasing to Your Majesty.” Said the first hooded figure while the other nodded in agreement. Skeptical, Aragorn put his sword away but kept his hand on it just in case. He didn’t know who he was dealing with but luck favors the prepared and he wanted to be prepared for anything.

“My apologies” he said with sarcasm “I’m not used to people being in this base, especially hooded figures who have no knowledge of how to get in. Quite startling”

“Indeed, we tend to have that effect on people. Nobody really knows of us and we like it that way but when we heard of your particular…Interest in the Palantir’s, we decided to make an exception.”

“Forgive my rudeness but before we have any dealings at all, your faces and what you choose to call yourselves will have to be revealed.” Aragorn said with hastiness. He was uncomfortable enough as is, he wanted to at least see these hooded figures and know their names.

“No to the first and yes to the second. Our faces are concealed for a reason and you aren’t privy to that sight nor are you worthy to see it.”

“Fine.” Aragorn said annoyed. “How did you get in here exactly? This place was sealed with Elven magic and there are four people alive who know how to get in”
The second hooded figure let out a smirky type laugh

“You doubt our ability?”

“I don’t know who you are or what abilities you have to doubt. This is the first time my eyes have settled on anything like this. You’re abnormally tall with terrible posture, that of a woodsman or a slave, not of a fierce warrior or one capable of great deeds.” Aragorn said snidely.

The second hooded figured, feeling insulted, removed the cloak being warn. At once a blinding, white light shot out of what appeared to be a female body. The light forced Aragorn to look away suddenly for fear of losing his eyesight. Once the light subsided, he opened his eyes. Even through his eyes being closed, the light was blinding and when he opened them; his eyes could barely adjust to the dark and dank ambience of the cave.

“We are apprentices of the Eldar. Do not speak to us in that tone nor doubt our magic. Our magic far surpasses that of any you have knowledge of, Ranger. Know your place and get on your knees.” She said with fervor. I fire burned in her eyes, a fire that was of hatred and disdain. Aragorn guessed she had run ins with the race of Men before and none of them were pleasurable.

“Enough, Losix! You are no better than him. He was put in the place he is by our masters. He has their respect and he should have yours, too.” Snapped the 1st hooded figure. Clearly the most mature, or at least most calm of the two. Pulling back the hood, the 1st hooded figured looked up at me and smiled.

“Forgive Losix. She’s quite energetic and passionate about our charge and beliefs to the point of entitlement, I’m afraid. She really is a hard worker and quite the apprentice when her head is where it should be and not where it is now” he turned to Losix “You are not entitled to the words you spoke. We are in his kingdom and if anything, we should be bowing to him.”

“A thousand apologies, Korwen. You are right. Please accept my apologies, Your Majesty. My words were ill tempered and in poor taste.” Losix said humbly

“Worry not, my friends. Words are meaningless until you assign them meaning. Now, let us put this exchange to rest and get down to business, shall we?” Aragorn said with fervency. He had been waiting months to meet these two and years to unlock this secret. It’s finally within grasp and all these two can do is grovel at his feet. He didn’t mind respect but even being a King, he wasn’t that fond of it. He never wanted to be King. He never felt worthy of such a position nor the respect that came with it. He shook his thoughts away and focused on Korwen’s words.

“What you seek is the last Palantir, am I correct?”

“Indeed, that is correct. I want to unite them to explore a portal that Xelathar discovered but didn’t have the courage to go through. “

“Be warned, Aragorn. That portal holds many wonders and mysteries no one but the Valar know. It’s a dangerous place with flying machines, weapons of light and races and languages beyond any of our comprehension.”

“I know. Xelathar spoke of these wonders in his account of his journey. There must be a way for me to survive in such a world.” Aragorn said this with a pleading tone, almost begging them to help him. He had never had a problem with people helping him but never from a stranger, particularly of this nature, but he was desperate. He knew he had little choice and was not beyond asking the help of two people he knew nothing about to achieve his goal. I’ve changed too much Aragorn thought. He pushed the thought out of his mind and focused back on Losix.

“There is, but it’s dangerous and the consequences could be quite severe.”

“The consequences mean little to me. I need to explore this world and see if there’s any way to use it to my advantage.”

“Alright, then let me explain what you have to do after we bring you to the Palantir.” Losix began to explain but was cut off.

“Wait, wait. You’re going to take me to the Palantir? Just take me?” Aragorn said surprised. He was expecting to given stipulation after stipulation along with tasks and people to fight, not to be given what he longed for so easily.

“Yes. After much deliberation with our masters and their masters, we have decided to take you to where the last Palantir is. As I said, it is extremely dangerous with the chance of severe consequences. If you are willing to go through this, we will bring you there.”

“I’m more than ready.” Aragorn said eagerly. He was finally getting his chance. He needed this dimension, this portal, to try and go back in time to wrong his rights and save all the people he lost in the needless war with Sauron.

“Then I will continue. There are two potions you must consume. The potion of Knowledge and the potion of Power. Both are crucial for your survival in where the portal brings you. We cannot guarantee these will help you survive long, but they will help you enough to get you on your feet there. Each have specific characteristics that must be imparted on you before you enter the portal. You must drink the potion of Knowledge before the potion of Power. You must have the knowledge to use the power. If you drink them out of order, your result will be more disastrous and dangerous than had you drank them in the proper order.”
Aragorn stood there, knees shaking as he was absorbing all this information. Losix spoke clearly and concisely so there was no misinterpreting what he was saying. He made mental notes of everything being said and locked it all away in his head to recall upon later for his journey. As he stood there, Aragorn could feel a rush of energy and life in him again. He felt as if he had purpose again, as if the very dream he had in his possession for so long is finally within grasp, ready to be taken for his own. He could just imagine the portal in front of him. All the colors brilliantly, vividly dancing around the circle. He imagined every color clearly in his head. Blues and greens riddle with yellow and red which intertwined with white and orange. All bright, all beautiful, all calling his name and he couldn’t wait to answer their beckoning call. I’m coming.

“Do you understand, Aragorn?” Losix asked with haste in her voice.

“Yes, I understand perfectly.”

“Excellent. Our journey shall begin right away then.”
Losix snapped her fingers and in an instant, Aragorn, herself and Korwen traveled through time and space, or at least that’s what it seemed to Aragorn. All he could see in the few moments he had was black and what looked like stars. He felt hot and cold all at the same time. He felt compressed and tiny like a dwarf in his adolescence. He could barely breathe and he couldn’t move at all, but perhaps it was supposed to be that way. Who knows what would have happened had he tried to escape what was happening. He could have been lost in another time, another world, another land and he would’ve had no way of returning.
When the black and stars finally dissipated, he surveyed his surroundings. All he saw was stone. He used his other senses for a clue as to where they were but he gathered nothing. No fresh scent of trees nor the sound of wind hitting the stone or anything. His eyes revealed little more than strange markings on the stone. They were completely enclosed and he felt trapped. The stones reminded him of the stone used in Minas Tirith. The color was the same white that he remembered from the city walls.

“These stones bare a strange resemblance to Minas Tiriths stones. I thought our stones were unique.”

“They are.” Korwen said. “Where the great Kings got the stones to build your great city were made here. The stone possess magical qualities that only the Valar can utilize, hence all the markings. Only they know the secrets and what the magic is.”

“Interesting.” Aragorn said skeptically.

“Steer your eyes away from your skepticism and follow me.” Korwen said with a snicker.

Aragorn followed closely behind Losix and Korwen as they traversed these halls. The stones were massive, even larger than that of his own beloved city. The pillars reminded him of Moria and the underground city he journeyed through during his quest with the Fellowship. These pillars were more massive than even those and the craftsmanship was that of a thousand Dwaren hands. Aragorn was awestruck by what graced his eyes. His mind could do nothing but think of Moria and Minas Tirith and all the painful events that happened at those cities.

“Focus, Aragorn.” Losix commanded. “Your mind must be clear and I know yours is not. We are nearing the last Palantir. Be prepared with the three we asked you to bring.”

Aragorn reached into the sack concealed within his cloak and hooked it onto his belt. As they walked further and further into the stone structure, Aragorn gathered it was a temple of some kind. A temple full of power that sent chills down his spine and it seemed like the temple would never end. After what felt like hours of walking, they came to a large room that revealed much about where they were.

All over the walls were the same familiar patterns as before but they no longer hid anything. The distinct markings were now glowing and were light for the room. They glowed a pale blue and that light reflected off of what appeared to be water towards the back of the room. The scent reminded him of fresh water of the sea. Sea water in an old, magical temple? What kind of place is this? Perplexed, Aragorn continued to survey the room only to find more stone pillars. The water danced gracefully, like an elf gliding across snow or Arwen when she danced for him. He missed her, even after one though, he wished her here with him but he knew she couldn't be. She couldn’t bring harm to her, even if that means being away. Aragorn drew his gaze from the massive pillars to the pool of water they were now in front of. He looked down inside to see what was in it and he smiled. He saw the Palantir resting among the water. It wasn’t at the bottom nor was it floating on top of the water. It was suspended in the water, just floating inside it as if held up by some magical source. A defense mechanism perhaps? Maybe more magic at work but either way, Aragorn wanted it. He almost felt it call his name, felt it wanting to be reunited with the other Palantirs. He reached for it but Korwen grabbed his hand fiercely.

“No! Do not touch it.” Korwen demanded. He threw a piece of loose cloth into it. As he did, it caught fire and disintegrated in an instant. “This place is of magic you cannot control. Be patient. Losix and I have work to do. This will take some time. Go now and rest. We will tell you when it is safe to continue.” Aragorn nodded and walked over to a pillar to rest his head. He grabbed his pipe and filled it with “Old Tobby”. He remembered the day he was introduced to this plant by the Hobbits and it made him laugh. That entire exchange brought so much joy to him, he felt nostalgic and felt like he had to smoke more to honor their memory. As he was finishing his last few puffs, he felt sleep pulling his eyes down. He fought it for what felt like an eternity, though it was only 5 minutes at best. He didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to be right there when Losix and Korwen were done with what they were doing. He wanted to be alert the moment the Palantir could be touched. This was the last thought in his head as he fell asleep.

A deep sleep did he fall into and extremely quickly did he fall into it. His entire body was relaxed and he was at peace. Losix looked over and noticed Aragorns slumber.

“He’s asleep. Should I wake him?” Losix asked

“No, leave him. The journey he is about to embark on will change him in ways he never imagined, he will need his rest. By nightfall, he won’t remember who he is. Let the last rest he has as Aragorn be uninterrupted and peaceful.” Korwen said with heaviness in his voice. Losix nodded and went back to the spell book they had out. This water wasn’t actually water, but offensive magic in one of it’s purest form. Completely untouchable by anyone, magical or non-magical, elf or human. Race nor magical powers could save anyone if they touched this magic and as such, it had to be treated with respect and much care. Korwen turned the spell book and they began reading.

Falling. Aragorn hit the ground hard and groaned in pain. He recovered and stood up to survey his surroundings. There were trees all around him, all dead, all with sad faces crying for help. They wanted life, they needed life and they all stared at Aragorn as if he held the key to bring them to life. Aragorn looked around to see if there was anything he could do. The presence of the emotions were emanating so strongly from the trees, he felt he had no choice but to succumb to their demands though not a word was said. He began furiously looking around for some Entwash. The Ents came into being by this water so he figured the same kind of magical water could fulfill the needs these trees had. He began to run through the dead trees looking everywhere for some water of any kind, some magical item that would do what he could not. He searched and searched but could find nothing. He pushed all doubts and disappointments aside and pressed on. In doing so, he found something. A lush, green forest just beyond the borders of the dead trees. He ran even faster to reach them to see if he could find anything to help these trees. The boundary was in sight, he could see people and water! He was filled with a rush of energy as he grew closer. He got not 100 feet away from the border when he was stopped. Orcs and spiders had crawled out of the trees and now stood in front of him. “LET ME PASS!” He yelled. Hoping his bravery and loud voice would scare them off but all it did was make them laugh and charge. 40 orcs and hundreds of spiders came after him. He drew his sword ready to fight, ready to die. Orcs were clumsy in battle and had little battle prowess at all. 5 Orcs were ahead of the rest of the group and they attacked first. A simultaneous side swipe from Anduril made short work of them. His long trusted sword of his ancestor never failed him in combat. It’s length and beauty surpassed that of most weapons and why should it not be superior? It defeated Sauron in the 2nd Age and after it’s destruction, was reforged by Elven magic and blacksmiths. The sword was powerful but for all it’s power, it couldn’t defeat all the foes before him. He knew this but for whatever reason, he couldn’t turn back. He couldn’t run. He had only moments before the rest of the group enveloped him completely so he thought. The trees could provide cover but there were too many spiders for it to matter. Climbing trees to outlast them would not work because they had bows and the spiders could climb trees as easily as they could dismantle him. “Run towards me!” A voice shouted ahead of him. He saw a figure with a sword in hand waving towards him. “Hurry!” The figure started to run towards the boundary so did Aragorn. He charged forward, right into the Orcs but veered off to avoid their spears. He fought his way through a group of 10 orcs that were off to the side of the main group. Orcs could never stick to any formation, lucky for Aragorn because if they could, he would never escape and would probably end up dead. He killed 5 orcs and continued to run. The spiders that were on the opposite side saw what he was doing and began crawling after him. Faster and faster they crawled with speed that was unnatural, even for spiders of this size. Fear struck Aragorn as he saw what looked like 200 spiders coming after him. He tripped on a branch and fell face first. He tried to get up but hit his head on his way back down again. He tried a second time to get up and though he was able to, he could not see well. The forest was spinning and it felt like his head was too. He looked back and the spiders were less than 15 feet away. Much closer and they could jump to him and he would be done for. No more Palantirs, no hope for the trees and no more life, just darkness. He wasn’t ready for that yet. Aragorn mustered his strength and ran towards the boundary. He caught glimpse of the stranger he had seen and heard from before and he ran towards him. He got close enough to see it was an elf. A gap surrounded them so he jumped and as he did, he felt the spiders jump after him. He looked back to see the mouth of one spider open to reveal tiny teeth ready to feast on him. Aragorn closed his eyes and hoped for a miracle. As he did, he felt his hand grabbed and he was thrown into a tree. He hit the tree with a thud that knocked the wind out of him and knocked him to the ground. “Why am I always on the ground!?!” Aragorn thought with much frustration. Suddenly a flash of bright blue light appeared above him. He looked up to see the elf hand extended and the spiders that jumped across the gap falling dead. He ran to Aragorn. “Hurry we musn’t de-“ He was cut short, literally. A sword, jagged in nature cut through his torso and killed him instantly. Aragorn watched in horror as the person who saved his life fell to the ground lifeless. He looked up to see the same jagged sword coming at his head. He brought up Anduril to block. He deflected, rolled out of the way of a second counter strike and sprung to his feet. When he got up, he saw a Ringwraith staring back at him hissing his name. “Impossible! You were destroyed along with your master.” It laughed and pointed it’s finger at him. “You cannot kill us.” The wraith threw it’s hand in the air and slammed it on the ground, creating a shockwave that leveled every tree in sight. Aragorn was thrown back and was thrown on the ground yet again but was pinned. He couldn’t move. He struggled and struggled but couldn’t move. He could hear the wraith approaching. He wiggled and struggled harder and harder but no matter what he did, he remained still. The wraith came within sight and it stood over him. “Aragorn, King of Gondor.” The wraith snickered and drove his sword right in Aragorns chest.

“NO!” Aragorn exclaimed. He looked up to see Korwen with his hand on him.

“It was just a dream, Aragorn. You are safe with us. We’re prepared and so are you, now is the time.”
Aragorn rose from the pillar and fixed his garments. He must’ve been slashing in his sleep or something. His cloak was on one side of the pillar and his sword was thrown to the other side of the room. He grabbed his possession, checked to make sure the Palantirs were on his person and still safe. After his checking, he walked over to the pool.

“The Palantir is still suspended. Nothing has happened, why?” Aragorn said confused and irritated. He thought they would have had it out by now. How hard is it to get the Palantir out of this water? He thought

“Extremely.” Losix said “This isn’t water, but a pure form of aggressive magic. Nobody can touch it without death. Only a special ritual can make the magic harmless and be as water. Such a ritual has been complete. We cannot touch the Palantir for it is not ours to touch so you must retrieve it for yourself.”
Finally, it’s in my reach. Aragorn thought. He reached into the water and felt it’s cool liquid caress his skin. He was sweating from his dream so the cool water was a welcome feeling. He grabbed the Palantir and drug it out of the water.

“Now place them here.” Korwen said as he raised his hand, bringing a table over the water with 4 empty spots. Aragorn grabbed the Palantirs and placed 3 of them in their places. He held the last Palantir in his hand.

“For years, I’ve been dreaming of this and now it’s finally happening. Do you have the potions?” Aragorn asked

“Both are in your sack already.” Korwen stated.

Aragorn reached in his sack and saw grabbed the potions. One burned with a bright pinkish hue. It was intertwined with shades of white and silver. The second was a royal, dark blue. The pink was that of Knowledge and the blue of power, or at least that’s what the inscription read on the vials.
“Knowledge before power, remember. You must drink them now before you place the last Palantir for when you do, the portal will be opened and it will be too late to drink them.”

Aragorn nodded. He opened the potion of Knowledge and brought it to his lips. It smelled of flowers and honey, an odd smell though pleasant. He drank it quickly and waited. He felt no effects. Confused, he shrugged and grabbed the other potion. Still a dark blue, he opened it and brought it to his lips. The smell that greeted his nose was not intoxicating like the first. It smelled of industry, like Isengard when he was there to capture Saruman. It smelled of smoke, fire, wood and metal, none of which are pleasant to behold. He drank this potion even quicker than the first and still nothing happened.
“How do these things wor-“ Aragorn turned around mid sentence to address Losix and Korwen but they had vanished. He called out their names but no answer was returned nor did his eyes see their figures anywhere. He was alone, alone with questions he couldn’t answer. Bewildered, he placed the last Palantir in it’s proper place. As he did, he saw the Palantirs rise up simultaneously and start spinning. He gazed in awe of the colors that it gave. Orange, blue, red, green, yellow. All these colors danced around the room and formed a dimension. A circle began forming in the center of the room away from the pool of magic. He ran to it but started to feel something. His body began burning white hot as well as his head. He couldn’t think straight because he was searing on the inside, like the very fabric of who he is was being burned away and replaced. He yelled in pain as the pain coursed through his system. Still running towards the portal, he tripped over his own feet and slid towards the portal. He stayed lying on the floor unable to move because of the pain. He looked up and saw how close he was to the portal and he forced himself to get up. Doing so tripled the pain he was in, he screamed louder. You can do this! You’ve not waited all this time to give up because of something like this. He told himself. He saw the machines and heard all the noises and languages just like Xelarath described in his account. He saw many different…things inside the portal and it scared him but he pushed that fear aside. He was not going to be weak like Xelarath and run away. He pushed through the portal, the burning getting stronger and stronger. He was half way through when his entire body turned dark blue. He no longer felt pain, but anger. Anger and hatred and it fueled him just as the pain did. He pushed through the portal and hit his face hard on something metal. He heard gasps and people running. He tried to look up but he fell unconscious before he could see what was happening.I made it…

Excellent in terms of story telling.

2 of my favourite book cycles combined

Maybe you could consider using the silmarils Feanor made (see quote below) to be these stones? But now that i think of it the silmarils where lost or destroyed (even though 1 survived i think).

Wikipedia wrote:The Silmarils (Quenya pl. Silmarilli, radiance of pure light[1]) are three fictional brilliant jewels composed of the unmarred light of the Two Trees in J. R. R. Tolkien's legendarium. The Silmarils were made out of the crystalline substance silima by Fëanor, a Noldorin Elf, in Valinor during the Years of the Trees. The Silmarils play a central role in Tolkien's book The Silmarillion, which tells of the creation of Eä (the Universe) and the beginning of Elves, Men, and Dwarves.

The Silmarils are not mere jewels which shine with a great light. The three Silmarils are in some sense both alive and sacred. How Fëanor, admittedly the greatest of the Noldor, was able to create these objects is not fully explained. Even the Valar, including Aulë, the master in handskills indeed, could not copy them. In fact, even Fëanor may not have been able to copy them as part of his essence went into their making. Their worth, in Tolkien's universe, was close to infinite, even to the Valar, as they were unique and irreplaceable. The Silmarils themselves are said to produce their own light, which comes from the Two Trees, but also to reflect the light of any other lights that come near them.

Very nice in general. I'd like to see his later efforts to return though. As well as whether he'll be force sensitive or sth. Wow keep this coming Im getting addicted.

Like I said, it was only part 1 so I have no idea where I'm going from there but I don't think he'll me coming back. I thought about using Feanor but like you said, none of them survived and such magic and history wasn't exactly prominent during this time.

Hmm I see. Aragorn was a fierce fighter and had his own share of brutalities (like in all wars). Does that mean he could be Sith?

All will be revealed when I'm finished. Or you could read BoaJ, CoaJ and DoaJ...