Disclaimer ~ I don't own the characters or the plotline, but the words are mine.
Author's Note ~ Don't ask me why I keep writing in the point of view of the villians, but so few people do that I find it an interesting area to explore.
I watched with grim satisfaction as everything I had worked so hard for began to fall slowly into place. There was only one thing missing before I could take hold or Arda and hold it in the palm of my hand. But where was it?
The nine had been released, along with that wreatched beast who had prooved so helpful in giving me the name of he who now has my ring. Yes, it would not be long now. I could feel my time was drawing neerer.
Sarumon had been a wise choice for an ally. He was foolish, as so many of those that wander the earth below me. He would do anything I asked, and then he would get all that he deserved for it. Eventually, all beings cease to be of use.
I can feel the frustration of the nine as they loose sight of he that bears the ring. Curse them! If they cannot keep track of a simple halfling then what use are they? And yet, I do not dispose of them as I would my other servants. They are secure in the knowledge that I will keep them alive. For them, that is a far greater punishment.
My powers are growing, I can feel them returning to me. But, in the center of my mind, there is an emptiness, a space that can only be filled by one thing. I call to it again, and I hear it's whispered reply, louder than it was before. If only I could find it!
It upset me to know how many of the rings have been lost to me. The three of the elves, hidden from my sight. Those of the dwarfs, gone, destroyed. I know only where nine of them rest; upon the fingers of the Nazgul. It is frustrating. Now I will have to destroy the elves, for with their powers, they could oppose me, and I do not wish for opposition.
And so I can do nothing but wait. No matter, I am patient. I have not spent all this time regaining my strength only to fall again into weekness due to acting out of turn. Despite myself, I call once more.
Author's Note ~ Don't ask me why I keep writing in the point of view of the villians, but so few people do that I find it an interesting area to explore.
I watched with grim satisfaction as everything I had worked so hard for began to fall slowly into place. There was only one thing missing before I could take hold or Arda and hold it in the palm of my hand. But where was it?
The nine had been released, along with that wreatched beast who had prooved so helpful in giving me the name of he who now has my ring. Yes, it would not be long now. I could feel my time was drawing neerer.
Sarumon had been a wise choice for an ally. He was foolish, as so many of those that wander the earth below me. He would do anything I asked, and then he would get all that he deserved for it. Eventually, all beings cease to be of use.
I can feel the frustration of the nine as they loose sight of he that bears the ring. Curse them! If they cannot keep track of a simple halfling then what use are they? And yet, I do not dispose of them as I would my other servants. They are secure in the knowledge that I will keep them alive. For them, that is a far greater punishment.
My powers are growing, I can feel them returning to me. But, in the center of my mind, there is an emptiness, a space that can only be filled by one thing. I call to it again, and I hear it's whispered reply, louder than it was before. If only I could find it!
It upset me to know how many of the rings have been lost to me. The three of the elves, hidden from my sight. Those of the dwarfs, gone, destroyed. I know only where nine of them rest; upon the fingers of the Nazgul. It is frustrating. Now I will have to destroy the elves, for with their powers, they could oppose me, and I do not wish for opposition.
And so I can do nothing but wait. No matter, I am patient. I have not spent all this time regaining my strength only to fall again into weekness due to acting out of turn. Despite myself, I call once more.