Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings.
Summary: All things that start must have an end and in this case it will be your approaching deaths, but don't be somber for the Dark Lord is in reign and omnipotent is his govern. A new era has been born and you have the honor of witnessing its naissance and our eternal gratitude for aiding us in its birth. So Farewell in this next adventure; may forevermore be the Dark's triumph in your hearts for without you support nothing would have been achieved."
Prologue: Destiny is always changing, forever twisting and turning. Some say it is carved in stone; others that it is defined by their actions. Destiny Is and at the same time doesn't; it exist by exterminating itself. One can be substituted by another or, depending of the flow, may be eradicated or restored.
Destiny is full of probabilities and made by circumstances. An insignificant action could change forevermore the destiny of an entire nation while great actions could only change the time of the future occurrences by mere minutes.
Destiny is changing by the little actions that then converge in a well-written fable. After all, what's destiny but an exceptional story?
One-shot:
Redav yM
Sometimes is difficult to start writing history, more if it is the start of a legend, an event that transformed the previous world into another with radical changes. Critical happenings may be overlooked by the chronic or important details could be twisted and misunderstood by the beholder; who hasn't live them, who has not suffer for them, who has not cry for them.
But the consequences are for all to see, bared to anyone who takes the time to observe. And is for them to judge them, to criticize them, for the consequences aren't for only the partaker of the legend when their actions affect the beholder.
But we are getting out of place for all stories have a beginning before the end; and to understand the ramifications of the legend first we would have to know how it all began.
Some say it started in that long night; others, way before that, they say that all was forgone, before hope could even start. This one had decided to retell it as this one was told before.
It was all in a dark night, inside of the darkest land. Four men walked through the narrow corridors covered in shadows, their chains chiming morbidly resonating through the unnatural silence.
Monstrous guards escorted them, their shining weapons gleaming dangerously as if warning the observer of their enthusiasm and eagerness for warm blood to cover them again. The smallest of the hostages tripped, for the chains were short and inadequate for easy walk, chained as they were between the ankles of the four.
Quick as the wind, one guard thrust his spear to the fallen, callously making him to stand up again, without caring of the past and new wounds the receiver had. Nor of his chains which had twisted and intertwined preventing him to continue his path.
The four then continued walking their slow march, sometimes tripping or falling, for they were starved and thirsty, not to mention injured. There guards were undisturbed by their charges' condition, walking unperturbed by their side knowing they were the reason for the fours' state. After all, this was war and if they were the captured, no mercy would be used for them.
Slowly, oh so slowly, they finally reached closed twin obsidian doors, black as the night that covered the entire fortress. Macabre figures decorated it, scenes of the past wars honored it and the blood red eye, as fierce as fire, crowned it.
A figured painted in shadows approached them, the guards scrambling to make a path for it, fear and awe reflecting in their deformed faces. Solemnly, it raised its arm and with its fist knocked three times, each one an echo louder than the previous, each one announcing to anyone who bothered listening to them that only doom could be found behind those doors.
The doors opened with no sound at all, as if they were a mere specter with no ties with the living, as if they were entering another real not meant for mortals to enter.
The being stepped forward fist, this being the signal for the guards to brutally shove the reluctant captives through the doors, making them fall on their knees in the middle of a circular chamber.
The chamber was illuminated by the pale light originated from the multiple torches that had lit as the shadow first opened the metal doors.
The tallest of the four recovered first, raising his head to observe his surroundings. He recoiled when his sight stopped in an obscured form. It was sitting in a grandiose charcoal throne that was elevated by a few steps just a little away from where the four were kneeling.
The guards promptly genuflected to the form. The cloaked shadow stepped forwards and with a bow to the throne he began to talk.
"Greetings, my lord, as you have ordered, we have captured the miscreants that foolishly tried to damage my lord's plans and domain with the final aim of dethroning and furthermore, to eradicate my lord's existence in this plane called life.
Currently at your feet you would encounter Gimli, son of Glóin, otherwise known as Lockbearer and elf-friend, dwarf of Durin's folk; followed by Legolas Greenleaf, son of the Elvenking Thranduil of the Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood, former Greenwood, Prince of the Woodland realm and belonging to the race of the Sindar.
After him is Aragorn the second, son Arathorn the second, known as Strider, Estel, Longshanks, Wingfoot, Telcontar and Thorongil, 16th Chieftain of the Dúnedain of the North and the Heir of Isildur.
And at last is Gandalf The White previously known as The Grey, also known as Olórin, Mithrandir, Incánus, Tharkûn, Greyhame, Old Greybeard, the Grey Pilgrim, Stormcrow, the White Rider, Láthspell, Big Greybeard, Long Greybeard, Pointy Hat, Tall Fellow and Gandalf the Fool,-Istari, Servant of the Secret Fire, Wielder of the Flame of Anor, Ring-bearer, Elf-friend and Maia of Manwë and Varda. All of them wait at your feet for your judgement, My Lord."
At the end, the masked person renewed his bow and made a step backwards, baring the four to the one's sight. It stood up from his throne and walked down the dim dais, revealing itself in the light of the torches.
An armored body made by the finest of metal and the most experienced of the blacksmiths gleamed dimly in the light. It was accompanied by a black cape outlined with fur that seemed to absorb all bright. Its helmet was designed as the contorted towers that it ruled. And in his hand, in his hand was missing a lone, pale ring-finger, cut forevermore from its rightful place.
Sauron circled the hostages, studying every single aspect of the four and his eyes piercing them in its intensity.
At last, he stopped in front of his throne and sitting said- "You have done well, very well indeed. Bring forwards the others."
With these words, the prisoners, already worn and almost defeated, knowing what would become of their future, were startled, raising quickly their heads only to see the doors open and two small figures being roughly carried by two orcs and then forcefully thrown to the floor.
The little ones coughed and tried to sit up, but the guards push them mercilessly into a kneeling position in front of their lord.
The pale shadow took it as its cue to introduce them.
"To the left is Peregrin Took, also known as Pippin, a Hobbit of the Shire and to the right is Meriadoc Brandybuck, also known as Merry, a hobbit of the Shire and both are known to belong to the vigilante group known as the Fellowship with the final aim similar to the previous ones. They are here waiting for your fair judgement, My Lord."
Sauron nodded to acknowledge the Shadow's words bur remained silent knowing that it wasn't finish yet.
The four prisoners meanwhile had tried desperately to go near Pippin and Merry, shouting their names, but the guards prevented them to do it, stabbing them with their weapons if necessarily to their legs or arms.
"To continue with my report my Lord I need for the prisoners to be relocated to a side of the chamber, if you would please, they are disturbing where they are right now." The shadow resumed his speech.
Sauron ordered the guards to move the six to the left and turned to listen to the rest of the statement.
"It isn't long now; my…collaborator… will be here at any time now." It continued.
As soon as it finished saying those words the doors opened with a loud bang, allowing three small figures to appear into view.
The smallest of them crawled near, dragging with him the two struggling figures. It was rambling to itself hysterically.
"Filthy little hobitses…too trusting…too trusting…but Gollum show them…capture them he did…hobitses...lying hobitses…BAGGiNGSES…thieves all of them…stole the precious…but Gollum found it…yes Gollum did… so near… precious…Gollum…Gollum"
Gollum threw the two figures to the steps of the throne, laughing and jumping while circling them.
"Gollum did as we said. All for the precious, yes, the precious… give it…Give it to us! You swore it; you swore it by the precious! Yes you did!" Gollum said facing fearless the Dark Lord for nothing for him was as sacred as the One Ring.
Emotionless, Sauron said to Gollum "Once I swore that if you obey my orders and brought me the ring bearer with his companions I would make sure you will forever be united to the Ring and nevermore be separated from it again and never be said that the Dark Lord doesn't fulfill his promises. Brine forth Frodo Baggins!"
Two orcs abandoned their post and walked towards the prisoners, who had push Frodo to their back in a vain attempt to protect him as soon as they heard the command, struggling and pushing against the guards that were trying to put order.
Soon, Frodo was hauled from the fighting mob and to the base of the platform of the throne.
The Shadow went near him and gently knelt facing the crying and crushed face of Frodo. It slowly pushed back his tunic grabbing reverently the golden ring and snapping the cord that fastened it to the hobbit's neck, then turning without second thought his back to Frodo for his usefulness was finished, he had brought the ring home and he was of use no more.
It passed the Ring to Sauron's awaiting hand that closed the moment it felt in his palm.
Gollum, impatiently, was jumping up and down around the throne's platform knowing that in mere moments he would have his most precious dream come true, forever with the precious.
Finally, the Dark Lord signaled Gollum to step forwards. Eagerly, Gollum did just that and stared in utmost awe as He put the ring in his outstretch hand and close it into a fist.
He kept staring the ring, his expression slowly transforming from complete reverence to extreme horror. Gollum tried to release the burning ring, shaking madly his closed fist to no avail.
The burning gradually began to spread, encompassing his whole arm then passing to the rest of his body.
Gollum was shrieking and wailing in astonishment and agony, hardly believing that the one thing he so much desire could be the one thing that could kill him when goblin, orc, man nor elf could before.
At his final moments Gollum search with his pain-filled gaze to Sauron who was sitting impassive in his throne and said pitifully "But you promised…you promised us by the precious...you did…"
"And I complied" Sauron calmly responded, cutting Gollum mid-sentence. "You shall be forevermore bounded to your precious ring; your very soul is incorporating with the ring's essence until it is the one and the same. What better way to unite two objects for eternity but the total merges of the two?"
In that instant, Gollum ceased to exist, his essence fusing with the ring and of his body only ashes remain, blending with the darkness of the floor.
The ring was eerily glowing where it had fallen when Gollum's body had burned. Shadow bent to retrieve it; the ring flicked and released fiery sparks when it touched it. The Shadow then kneeled in front of Sauron, raising his hands towards Him; the One Ring glimmering eerily in its palms. The rest of guards followed it, kneeling and forcing the Fellowship to do it too.
Sauron stood up, walked the few steps separating him from the Shadow and smoothly picked up the Ring.
It shined brightly, forcing almost all the occupants of the chamber to close tightly their eyes, blinded by its intensity, all except Sauron and his Shadow who were seeing the Ring with accomplishment and eagerness.
it continued to blind them for a few more minutes but for the Fellowship that little amount of time turned into an innumerable period where slowly they realized that it was all over; The Dark Lord had won, the Fellowship had failed and with it, all of the Free People of Middle-Earth.
When the light finally receded, all eyes turned to the centered figure. Where they expected to find an armored being they founded a fair creature sitting calmly in the throne, looking for all the world as if it belonged right there and nowhere else but in the seat of power, exuding a strong and commanding aura which commanded all to listen and serve for it would accept nothing but absolute servitude.
"Your faces reflect your surprise, including you Olórin. Have you forgotten that once the unseemly was great beauty? For what is beauty but the spider's weapon, the perfect method for ensnaring the victims in a sweet web, not knowing that the hunter is near, not until it closes its claws, crushing the future food without warning until the last second and rejoicing in the hunt for the prey is no more." The alluring figure said, amused with the tense scene occurring in front of him.
.For the first time since the transformation, one of the group spoke. Gandalf the White, once Grey, shakily stood up and straighten himself, for even if he was defeated he still had spirit to fight and not bend to the Enemy, and said.
"Many eras had passed since you were fair and your appearance had long ago changed to reflect your dark soul. Few remember your charming façade and even fewer still acknowledge it, for it seem inadequate for evil to dress so prettily while hiding it true nature, an nature that was revealed while the beauty was destroyed forevermore. But still are someone who remember and will multiply once more, for the warning will resurface with the change, and the world shall call the foul and the fair the same, for you are Sauron and Sauron you shall remain."
The now named Sauron smirked, entertained with the wizard's worlds as one is diverted with a particular amusing pet's foolishness.
"Brave words for someone who was bent down on his knees, yet foolish all the same, after all isn't bravery the irrational conduct that mortals demonstrate when they confront their fears? Fear is the body's natural reaction towards danger, it keeps mortals relatively alive" said Sauron "but they have demonstrated their folly over and over again, running with their shiny swords to their death, challenging and defying their betters only to die and the next generation to repeat their ancestors' indiscretions."
While saying the last part, the Enemy slowly turned his head in the direction of Isildur's heir, his every word mocking him.
Aragorn clenched hardly his teeth, angry with Sauron's taunting words but unable to retaliate, knowing deep inside that they were nothing but the truth and so remained silent.
"Look at the mighty Nine Walkers! The great Fellowship of the Ring, Saviors of the Free People of Arda! Look at them now! Kneeling at the Enemy's feet, defeated and surrounded by the foe! Downtrodden and with no hope, waiting for their end to come for their mission has failed." Sauron gloated, rejoicing in the crushed faces of the Nine, his eyes gleaming maliciously at the faith leaving their eyes with each word spoken.
"But let's not be said that Sauron the Great is without mercy, nor doesn't recognize a worthy opponent when he sees it." He continued his voice a soft purr, rolling in the ears of all present. "For that, you shall be granted a tale, the narration of a silly little group wandering in the hard world all for a futile quest and how its mission went astray way before it even started, the story behind what the simple view saw, the account of the Fellowship of the Ring and how it was conquered in front of their very own eyes."
A shout of outrage interrupted his monologue, all dwellers turned towards the sound; some in fury, others in horror for it was the dwarf who had dared to cry out in the middle of the Dark Lord's speech.
"Don't you dare belittle our mission and actions, servant of Morgoth! Every dwarf, man, elf and hobbit here is worth more than you or your minions would ever achieve to be! We shall not be downtrodden until the last breath leaves our bodies!" cried Gimli, raising his head straight and standing in his full height, barely paying attention to the chains that connected him to the orcs which were tinkling with each of his passionate moves.
Sauron calmly turned his vision to Gimli and with barely a disinterested glance at him, he returned to observe the Company. After a few minutes the dwarf's companions gradually began to relax, naïvely thinking that their friend was miraculously spared the Enemy's retaliation.
They shifted in their chains to reassure themselves of their companion's wellbeing and to berate him of his rash actions even if they all internally agree with Gimli's words.
Suddenly Gimli faltered in his stand, making him do a step forward to balance himself and not fall. The elf pushed himself to the dwarf, helping Gimli into a sitting position. Gimli started to cough, slowly at first, then gaining intensity. He was soon in his knees hacking blood, his friends desperate in their attempts to stop him from choking. Just as the hobbits where starting to bawl the coughing stopped, Gimli then felt into the Gondolian's lap, utterly exhausted from his ordeal.
They all stared at the figured sitting at the bottom of the platforms connecting with the throne; its hand was extended towards the group's general direction and pale smoke was curling between its long fingers. It then moved his smoking hand to his lips and gently blew it away.
The Fellowship glared hatefully at the Shadow but refrained of doing anything against it, knowing very well their impotency in avenging their companion.
A clap resonated in the chamber, all eyes turned towards its originator. Sauron was smiling cruelly at the prisoners, mocking them with his eyes. Then he nodded to his Shadow.
With that sign, it stood up and walked the few meters that separated it from the chained. It then drew out one silver dagger from beneath his cloak.
The Fellowship grew alarmed and shifted in their places, doing a circle and putting the hobbits and Gimli at the center.
The Shadow laughed quietly, and then with a surprising speed it appeared in front of Aragorn's face. It then proceeded to softly caress it with the blade's sharp tip, drawing a thin line of blood from the injury.
"There's no need to be afraid of me, little ants, for my master hasn't order to eliminate the trash." It said tenderly while continuing to move the dagger up and down on the Gondorian's face. .."Yet"
Directly after that it withdrew the weapon now shining with Aragorn's blood and licked it just centimeters separated from his eyes.
"No need to be scared indeed for Master has promised you these, before your future you shall heard your tale recited as I know it. So listen well, little pests, for it may be the last you will ever perceive." It said softly, standing straight and moving until it was at the bottom of the stairs.
"Three rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie."
It began to narrate the well-known poem, softly almost inaudible at first and gradually gaining strength. Its audience was silent; no sound could be heard in the chamber that wasn't the Shadow's voice and the monotonous breathing of its inhabitants with the occasional shift of the guards.
"Twenty in total, the rings of power were forged. Nineteen by the elven race, splendid in their own, but mere essays in front of the One, crafted by the Dark Lord at the fires of Orodruin; made in secrecy, made to control, but at the tiniest sense of danger, the elves destroy it all. War then followed, blood-sheath covered the land, yet The Great One persevered, with the One Ring at his side. At last, sixteen of them he could retrieve, gifting seven to the greedy dwarfs and nine to the week-willed rulers of Men, who fell in disgrace, the power binding them to the Great.
The victory for the Dark Lord was near, but for the one Man that appeared. Cutting the finger of the Lord, the battle was lost. An opportunity to finish it all then arose, but Isildur's greed had won. The mortal kept it by his side, until the One collect its due.
Many years then passed without the One's sign, almost forgotten in the dark caves it resided. All until the smallest of them all discovered it, yet unknown of its power a mere toy it remain.
Then the Dark rose, and the One Ring was unveiled once again. A council was decided to put all fears to an end; use it some beings said, destroy it other ones replied. Yet agreement wasn't met. All the while the little one had heard, at last he exclaimed "I'll take it then" so the Fellowship was formed when all hope was almost gone.
Farewell, the fair one said, and may the blessings of Elves, Men, and all the Free-Folk go with you! May the stars shine upon your faces! And so the Company departed, Heart full of faith and soul rejoicing in hope of a better future.
But trouble seemed to find them way before they started, for they foolishly thought that the prior danger was already by-gone, a mere memory of the past. Such naïvetés! Such arrogance! For who will think that the walking wraiths of the earth would be stopped by a barrier! Didn't they though that once passed the darkness will concede defeat?
For darkness is nothing but patient; a whisper in the light of day waiting patiently for the night, where they gained force and become unstoppable because the night is dark and full of terrors for the bright inhabitants who dare step in their domain.
So watched and analyzed, the saviors began their journey. Merry was their path and jolly their days, but at dusk warry were they. Then in Holly all deteriorated for or brave little warriors, for their quest pleasant and joyful were no more. The birds came as a warning to them all, we are watching you, they said, for as great as humans were, no better than the crebain for spying in the air.
Mortals have many faults, more some than others but have all the same. It's just a matter of pressure and learnt. The Brown was no better, for his creatures he exists. The Shadow knew very well this and with ease this humbly servant acquired the spies his master desired. The Brown was uniformed of his friend treachery, in his cottage sheltered and living peacefully, he gladly lend his faithful friends and if a lie was told, then no one was in there to tell once gain.
So fly then went, alerting the elf first then the rest. For a day the group was force to cover, not knowing it was all in vain.
Spying in the ground were little metallic snakes, taking advantage of their flying comrades. Slither in they went, hiding in the sacks or in their dress. At last the Fellowship renewed their trek, to the pass of Caradhras they said.
So they went, to snow and winter air. Long was their climb and low was their mood. Monotonous their days were and with no reach was their end. Temptation began to rear his ugly head, calling for some more than others until suspicious in set. Finally after some days something occurred.
Massive boulder pummeled to the ground while lightning strike the top, an avalanche soon formed and with mighty force buried the Fellowship whole. The wizard pitifully tried to stop nature to no avail, shouting at the skies blaming Saruman the White.
Didn't he know that such power was beyond both Istari? Even if it wasn't the Grey couldn't surpass the White, for he was aided by the Dark; tiny jewels were ingrained to the slippery spies, who mitigate any magic against its creator's plans.
After unburied themselves, decided they did to Moria trip; soon they'll realize that returning from Caradhras they would regret.
The dark was concerned about the future of the Grey, many a time his meddling ways have interfered with its aims. Should he ascend at a wrong time, the dark would dearly pay. So the lord command his Shadow to soothe his headache and soothe it It did.
No one wanted a repeat of the Smaug case, which ended all draconian help the Dark could receive. So in vengeance the creatures of the night where sent to dish and feast in dwarfs' flesh.
Sealing the entrance required little scheme, for to children little rocks in the right place were needed after a great wait. If the lake didn't had a dangerous mollusk before will not be remarked any more.
Putting a skeleton in a well was easy played, making it fall not a moment before required a little more wit, for what was a plan without its risks?
That's how Gandalf the Grey met his end, the balrog of Moria being his bane. Downtrodden, with their spirits stomped, the eight continued their journey. To Lothlorien they said, begging for a little rest.
Without more protest, their weary body they force to move, as at night the orcs will hunt for prey, no matter their state. Panting and gasping, they arrived. But their pains weren't at the so sought end, because the suspicious eldar's arrows were another threat.
Blindfolded at last, they were allowed to enter. While finally peace they knew, the enemy continued to move. The Golden Wood was greatly protected though; the slippery spies couldn't enter through.
Nevertheless, that didn't deter them for seeing isn't the only way to gain knowledge. They had heard what the Fellowship had said; thinking themselves safe and alone was what made their plans well-known.
Met the Lady and her Lord then, charming they said, for beauty was once again at its best. But age sometimes demarcates others instead, for she in her arrogance forgot that the One Eye sees all, especially what is his own.
Called the ring-Bearer forth, see into the water she said, unknowingly, or perhaps just no caring, showing little Frodo his worst nightmare, for he of noble heart couldn't remain in peace if his friends would suffer for it.
But she showed the Eye, and whoever invokes him he shall respond. Shattered then some of the wards, the Eye knew were one of his escaped rings where at last. Nenya here I'll come he said, for soon we shall meet.
Few days passed since, too few for the Fellowship, until from Lothlorien they must depart. Great gift they were presented and to the river they went. The Lady and lord watched from their sit, until the last boat disappeared from far beyond.
So off they went unaware of what the future would present. In the Golden Woods a shout was heard, for without the wards the forest wasn't shade. Our glassy friends slipped in during the night, stealing the ring with no-one wise.
Then gathered information of its pair, for Nenya wasn't the only ring lost, but soon, very soon indeed, will the lost two will be retreated and at last all rings will be tied in one as they were never before.
For dawn to dark, the Walkers travelled. Day to night they advanced, up till they were attacked by flying arrows, forced to be deflected and to land be ingrained.
Then tragedy followed, for as quickly as the group had form it shall fall. Divided first by greed, the two hobbits soon departed. Dived second by some urks, the rest followed soon. One by death…two by capture…and the three rests…well…they quickly followed.
The Ring bearer and his companion decided that to Mordor they would travel. But the road to their goal they didn't know. Luckily for them an unusual individual have been following them for they carried something very precious for it.
Captured and bonded, Gollum previously Sméagol became their guide. Through mountains and swamps, across trees and land, it directed them into the correct path, until one day that it gained Frodo's trust and his mission he could complete at last.
Oh, innocent Frodo, how could you put your fragile hopes in Gollum, for didn't you know it couldn't feel loyalty? Once a hobbit it was, full of values and life; but it is Gollum now, tied forevermore to one bow, to the One Ring it'll forever obey for it is in its very essence.
How else do you think Gollum escape the hands of the possessive elves? Or track through earth and water the mighty company without this humbly servant's help? For it is to the One we obey and to the One we serve.
According to the plan all it went, the two trusted Gollum and all went well. One night, in the cover of shadows, strike it did, bounded and gaged, to Barad-dur they turned. And the One Ring was close to its master, yearning their joining for once One they were and One forevermore they'll be.
That was when He took the first pair.
Merry and Pippin, Pippin and Merry, two little hobbits of the Shire, for loyalty they joined and for loyalty they were captured. Day by day, they travelled with the Uruk-Hai to their awaited death.
But hope prevailed, for they knew their friends were following them. Little things they threw for a little help to their companions weren't overdue. Little they knew that all was in vain, for the dark had knowledge of their game.
To Isengard they thought to go, but to Barad-dur they went. And at dawn they regarded their fate.
That was when He took the second pair for his own.
At his friends' tragedy, the left prepared to follow. One elf, one dwarf, one man, with mighty heart they began. Day or night, solemnly they search for their own but not for very long. Trust they did to the wrong fellowship, because traitors they were and to their doom they trekked.
Great riders they were; surround and aim the three travelers in mere moments. Halt the leader shouted, for they were suspicious and tired. "What business does an elf, man and a dwarf have in the riddermark? Speak quickly." he said and when explained he graciously told them where they have previously battled. He apologized then, because no friend was seen by them. Then, he gifted them two mounts which have lost their lords and with a farewell they left as they entered.
The three went to the place said, and instead of the promised battlefield an ambush was what they found. Haven't they learnt that things aren't always what they seem? After all, the riders where contracted to His will. If they wanted their Lord and King well, they were told to do as He said and what it is to lie to three strangers compared to their king's well-being?
And that's how he took the three beings to his fortress.
Last but not least, Gandalf appeared. After his famous battle with Durin's Bain he raised up from his ashes and a new Saruman was born to lead. To his friends he directed himself but stop he did to rest inside the wards of great Lothlorien.
But the wards weren't what once were, for destroyed they could be seen but not at simple view. So rest did the Grey but no morning he would ever see again for the little snakes trapped him in his weaken state.
Captured and bond, that's how He took the last of them all.
They were reunited in the dungeons of Barad-Dur at last. Four hobbits, one wizard, one elf, one dwarf and a man gathered in the separate dark cells awaiting their deaths, in the dungeons of Barad-Dur at last. But no knowledge they have of their friends in their similar state trapped in the dungeons of Barad-Dur at last
Finally a soft light they saw, but raising spirits were stomped for the lights were nothing but torches brought by horrifying monsters, orcs they were called.
Rudely and brutally the company of four were grabbed and to the hallway man-handled. After weeks without rest, hungry and thirsty for any food and drink for they have only ate the meagre sugary water and old bread.
To the throne chamber they went, one by one were presented to Death for the Lord of the Rings awaited and innocent were not his intentions towards them.
They cried and begged when the last ones came for all hopes ended with them. The One Ring was next bared and with reverence by all was beheld. The Lord extended his hand and the humbly servant of his deposited his soul in his fist.
Yet a promise is a promise and the Lord is truthful to his word. To the puppet he gifted the Ring who had its life extended. Then it burnt, it burnt with the fires of hell, melting his soul with my Lord's. It didn't learn well that what the heart's desired wasn't what keeps you safe and warm for it wanted to be one and one it will be.
Fool is fair and fair is fool; the Dark Lord regained his form as it was before and the heavens and earth trembled beneath his powerful force. And all creatures will sense his power arising for the winds have changed and with it a new dawn is near.
And that's where our story finish because all things that start must have an end and in this case it will be your approaching deaths, but don't be somber for the Dark Lord is in reign and omnipotent is his govern. A new era has been born and you have the honor of witnessing its naissance and our eternal gratitude for aiding us in its birth. So Farewell in this next adventure; may forevermore be the Dark's triumph in your hearts for without you support nothing would have been achieved."
The Shadow finished his speech with a mocking bow towards the Fellowship, a smirk in his lips. Then it tuned, his body facing the throne and the calm figure sitting on it. With another bow, this one deeper and more respectful than the other, it then stride to the back of the chamber, hiding in the shadows until not even an silhouette could be discerned in mass of darks.
Sauron nodded to his Shadow and then motioned the guards with a careless wave.
The signal was made. The orcs grabbed each kneeling prisoner and forcefully made the Company stand up and all attempts of struggling only ended with pain, be it a hit, punch or by a blade. Finally they were all imprisoned in their guards' enormous grasp. They glared hatefully in the throne's direction, declaring with their stares their hate that could be said in words.
Then a wheeze of air could be heard, followed with the sound of flesh hitting ground and ending with a dull thumping sound.
All eyes turned to its origin. Then chaos occurred.
The Fellowship pushed, screamed, hit and bite the orcs binding them, trying with all their might to reach their fallen comrade.
After ten minutes, they finally achieved to put order in the chamber. The remaining friends' strength and spirit was crushed at last, tears raining from their eyes, for even if hell down poured in earth, they had the hope that they would be together until the end and the loss of one of them is a shock and caused the greatest pain than the worst injury could ever cause.
Meanwhile, Gandalf the White sat in the cold floor, his body lying like a puppet without its strings, cut without warning from their act, leaving behind a useless carcass. And his head, his head was at the bottom of the stairs, having rolled from his main body when the sharp sword separated what was one in two.
"May this be a remainder that your hours in the land of living are counted." Began to said Sauron softly "You shall not leave this tower alive but in recognition to the great service you have done to the Dark you shall not feel the pain of torture at my hands. Escort them to their cells. No contact of any kind and form between them will be allowed. You are all dismissed."
With their Lord's dismissal, the orcs began to herd the captures to the twin-doors. They twisted and turned in their guard's grasp, trying to free themselves, for them all new that once they were behind the dungeon's bars all hopes for freedom will be extinguished.
Then Sauron called for his Shadow. It slowly emerged from the wall's obscurity until it was in front of his lord. It bowed low and kneeled.
"Rise" The Dark Lord said. "You have done well, I'm satisfied."
The Shadow raised his head and with a small smile it said "I only do what my lord orders, needs and wants. It is greatly appreciated your acknowledgement and I promised to continue serving you until the right time comes."
"Then rise and be proud, for you have done all you said and more." Sauron said with a hint of a smile in his otherwise impassive face, sitting straight in his throne.
"Yes, Father." The Shadow said, standing up and lowering the hood that have been covering his face since he last left the chamber in his mission.
Just as the twin-doors were closing behind the Fellowship's back, Aragorn sworn until his death to see through the small groove a pale white face with blood red lips, smirking towards them and a pair of poisonous green eyes gleaming in the Dark, satisfied after a hard work.
Then the doors closed.
Author's note:
Finished in 01/03/2017 after a month in construction with 6 394 words.
This was one little plot that was in my mind for a long time and one day I just said screw it and then dedicate myself to write it once for all so it could leave me in peace.
It is a One-shot by maybe with enough persuading of my mind I could convert it in a two-shot (now my mind is quickly thinking about it, just after I have finally finish this, sights, sometime I hate having an hyperactive mind but what can I do but live with it)
Also if you haven't notice I have put many references to some series that I had watched and maybe in the future will do some one-shots, so see if you can discover them all! (Maybe there are some that even I didn't notice when I was writing…) and I have used many phrases from the LOTR series as dialogue.
The name Redav yM is if you have guess backwards, it says My vader and vader is father in Dutch I believe. It was a tease for the end and yes, I was thinking of star wars when I thought about it (I couldn't take out of my head the imperial march for a long time.)
Hope that you like it and thank you all for reading this, it is really appreciated and motivates me to write more, so thank you all again. And constructive criticism is welcome.
And for the ones that have read Scarlet Deception, sorry for not updating, I'll do It soon, sorry again.
Write you next time.
Aria.
