Account of the 3rd Nazgul
Hello, this is my first fan fiction. I'm not really sure what kind of writing is enjoyed, or if you expect certain standards, so I'm just going to try with this story. It's based just before the War of The Ring, and it's from the point of view of the Third Nazgul (in terms of being in charge/birth). Don't expect facts and names to be accurate, this is just completely an idea that I had.
I am Nerenfium, Third of the Nazgul, and Captain of the Dark Vale regiment. This is an account of my precious and failing life. It was many millenniums ago, when I, young and hesitant, joined his Unholiness Sauron. I was put under his control, and was given control over my regiment. Little did I know of the foul presence of orc I was to control. There was no one for me to trust; no messengers, and I had no presence yet on my spawn. However, my peers still understood me, and knowing each other was simply a matter of being in each others presence.
It was about the second month of my hiring, though, when I first had a streak of something apart from misfortune. It was the night patrol of my captain, Shezrim. As usual, I made sure everything was going the correct way. From my scouring tower, I noticed that something was hassling Shezrim. Upon closer inspection I noticed that there were two lowly men crawling – probably scouts from the Steward - trying to hide under some dark brush. Their plot was failing miserably, as they were easily spotted. The captain took them, and led them to the chambers. The next day, just as he was ending his patrol, I called him. I interrogated him; and to my surprise, he wasn't one of those mumbling, frightened fools I see around, but instead, quite strong-willed and smart. From then on, at least I had a messenger and someone to trust with my plans.
These pathetic men were captured and as I recall were then used as slaves for the better. What became of them now I care little of. They were probably trying to find another route around Minas Morgul. I do wonder how they managed to sneak past Shelob, yet these things are not to bother me or for me to think about. Many more incidents have occurred similar to this, although none have helped me gain such a valuable ally. Throughout my early years I gained allies - and enemies just the same – as well as gaining respect. I do pity all the helpless creatures I have smite down, but simply because they had no chance of surviving.
These were my early years, and although my memory may be frail, and failing still, these are close representations, and somewhat near to the actual events as I remember them.
Thanks for reading, and any feedback would be nice. I'm not sure if this is good enough, but in my opinion, I think this was quite well done by me. Again, this might not be accurate, but it's my first fan fiction, and I don't know all the events in Middle Earth, but this is simply for fun, and an idea.