TAKEN
PREVIEW:
War-drums rumble. Rain pours down over lines of elves in armor. (Blackout.)
Drums continue. Aragorn unsheathes his sword with a loud ring, his wet hair matted to his forehead, a grim look on his face. He whispers, "Forgive me, mellon-nin." (Blackout)
Drums continue pounding. The Tower of Orthanc. A loud roar followed by a bolt of flame rushes down, engulfing Aragorn and Legolas. Sarman's voice: "Is there anything anyone can do to stop Us?...There is nothing you can do to save him, Elessar..." (Blackout)
Drum-beats quicken. A flash of light reveals Legolas' eyes glowing, red as fire, evil apparent on his face. His voice overdubs: "They shall all die!" (Blackout)
Elrond faces Aragorn, forest surrounds them. "He is the Enemy, Estel. There is nothing any of us can do...Legolas is gone, forever..." (Blackout)
Drums beat faster and faster. Flashes show:
An arrow penetrates Legolas' chest.
Gandalf's eyes fill with tears.
Legolas slashes with his knives against an unseen opponent, his eyes aglow with fire and hate.
Aragorn kneeling, arms outstretched, his face turned to the sky, screaming with anguish and desperation.
Another arrow hits the elf.
Legolas strikes Aragorn, sending him sprawling, then attacks him, straddling him on the ground. "You shall die, Elessar!"
Aragorn's voice: "He's my brother! How can I go against him!...How can I face him in battle...?"
Elladan holds a limp form in his arms, tears streaming down his face. "Legolas...killed him..."
Aragorn stands near Legolas. The elf's head is down, looking at the ground. Aragorn: "Is there nothing I can say to prevent you from destroying us all, mellon-nin?"
Suddenly, war-drums stop. Legolas' eyes shift up. He smiles wickedly. "No."
(Blackout)
The End
Chapter One
The voice melted over them, chilling them to the bone, piercing into their minds, yet soothing them as well. It seemed to calm their senses, to relax their tense nerves...to assure them their enemy was not as he seemed.
Aragorn, Ranger of the North, however, knew better than to let his guard down. His experiences had taught him one thing: never trust someone who refuses to show his face.
Legolas, ernil of Mirkwood, stood poised beside him, his own instincts forbidding the slightest momentary ease of mind. His fingers stroked the bristles of the arrow-feather, sliding down to clasp the bowstring between his fingertips.
They stood side-by-side, gazing up at the immense tower before them, black as ebony, though what the edifice was actually made of no one knew, save those that had created it so many centuries ago. They stood there, wondering how much longer they could endure the scoffs and mockery that rained down on them from above.
Though prepared to do whatever necessary to stop their enemy, he had not yet even revealed his face to them. Legolas suggested to Aragorn that he stood near the veranda on the top story, looking down on them from the broad window, able to keep out of sight. Wherever he was, Aragorn growled back, he was a coward; only cowards would taunt their enemies while in hiding.
The voice flooded back over them once more, menacing, haunting, still possessing that power unlike any they had ever heard. It was deep and guttural, clear and cold.
"Do you think there is anything rangers and elflings can do to stop me?" it asked. "Is there anything anyone can do to stop Us? You are all too weak and desolate to prevent our union...Gandalf Greyham was very foolish to send youngsters on such a dire—and hopeless—mission."
Legolas tensed and drew his bow sharply, aiming at the veranda where they supposed their mocker to be. "He dares to mock Mithrandir!" he gritted between his teeth.
Aragorn laid his hand on his arm, reassuringly. "Patience, mellon." Legolas reluctantly lowered his bow, but his bright eyes still searched for sign of the Wizard.
Saruman laughed at the young elf's temper. "So, Legolas Thranduilon, you believe you can defeat me?" he guessed at his thoughts. "Are you so trained and cunning to defeat a Maiar? Do not think of yourself so highly...those that think much of themselves are doomed to fall."
The irony of his statement made Aragorn sniff with a sad chuckle. 'Then you have a long way to fall, Saruman,' he thought.
The White Wizard turned to the Dunedan. "You believe you are better as well, Aragorn, son of Arathorn? You propose that a disinherited heir has any hope of stopping Us?" His voice grew deeper and slower. "We shall see, Thorongil, we shall see..."
The veranda was suddenly lit with a brilliant light, blinding the friends though they were hundreds of feet below. An unseen power threw them to the ground, holding them down, confusing them so they could not tell which way was up. It held them there, forcing them down into the earth; Aragorn tasted mud, and found it hard to breath. He looked to Legolas in desperation, but the blonde head was turned away from him, and he could not tell if his friend was having better luck than he.
The stentorian voice resounded down upon them, now angry and malice-filled. "We shall see if you are worthy to be Our enemy! We shall see whether rangers and elves and gnarled, broken wizards are enough to stop the Union of the Two Towers!" Saruman's evil passion was bearing down on them, pushing them deeper and deeper into the earth. Aragorn gagged from the black mud sliding over his tongue, and Legolas choked and sputtered violently, struggling defiantly against the force holding him down.
Suddenly, the power of his staff released them, and instead, pulled them back to their feet in one swift motion, too fast for them to catch their breath. They coughed and convulsed, trying to catch their breath and spit out the slimy ooze at once, all the while waiting apprehensively for the Wizard's next move. They wondered how long his aggressive anger would last, and how long they would have to endure it.
Saruman targeted his one fear: Aragorn, heir of Elendil. Yes, he was the one threat that had the power to defeat Them, Saruman and Sauron, leaders of Middle-Earth. If the White Tree sprang back to life, then Their doom was inevitable. There was only one thing to do...and he would enjoy it immensely. He had waited a long time, conserving his power, storing it away, until now; now it was enough to invoke upon His enemy.
The Maiar walked out onto the veranda, and placed his hand on the large balustrade. The silvery stone set atop his staff glowed and swirled brilliantly; it was in the hands of a Master, and it knew no boundaries. It sparkled and shimmered in the Head Wizard's hands, preparing itself for the long-awaited blow it could feel rising in its Master's grip.
"Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Elendil and Lord of all Gondor," Saruman's eyes gleamed, "You shall defeat us, yes you shall, but only when you discover a way out of our Hold on you!"
There was a tremendous roar, and suddenly a raging bolt of flame shot down at him, billowing and smoking with a thundering fury. His eyes went wide, but there was no time for him to react. Everything slowed; all he saw was the bright blaze reaching out, soon to engulf him. He heard the laugh of the Wizard, the scream of Legolas...he hit the ground... then, there was nothing...
No, he felt the weight pressing down on his chest. He caught the blonde head in his strong hand, gathering the limp form in his arms, his own mind blank and dull. "Legolas?" he whispered. When there was no answer, he pulled the body closer to him. "Legolas...no...Legolas, answer me!"
Saruman ground his teeth. His one chance was had been foiled, his once chance to destroy the Enemy; the elf had thrown himself in front of the flame to protect the Dunedain. He could not believe it. Saruman 'humphed' to himself, anger smoldering inside him. However, a thought suddenly struck him: 'There are other ways to torment the Heir.' Yes, there were other ways...
"There will be no answer from him, ranger," Saruman's icy voice poured down on him in a torrent. "There is nothing you can do to save him. Already Our power is enveloping his soul, and it will only be a matter of time before he shall be Ours!" The Wizard leaned forward over the railing, his eyes piercing and dark, but gleaming with pride and hatred. "There is nothing you can do for him, Elessar, and now you must live with his blood on your hands!"
Aragorn held Legolas' limp body to him, coddling him in his disbelieve and shock. "His blood shall be on your hands...His blood shall be on your hands..." The voice echoed in his mind. He could not think, he could not see past the closed eyes and pale face that lay pressed against his chest. As the Wizard finally disappeared from the balcony however, Aragorn's trained instincts urged him to flee as fast as he could. The ranger hoisted himself onto Roheryn's back, pulling Legolas up with him, and grasped his friend's motionless form between his arms. With a hurried kick to the horse's ribs, he quickly made for their camp, putting distance between themselves and the dreaded Tower of Treason.
Treason.
That's exactly what he had done. Saruman...they had trusted him. He had betrayed them...As they raced through the forest, Aragorn realized all of Gandalf's suspicions were most likely true. Saruman did know where the seeing stones were, and, most likely, had one of his very own. The Grey One had long suspected the movements of his fellow Maiar, and had feared that the truth of his doings would be disastrous. He was reluctant about sending the elf and ranger to investigate, but the Wizard had known he had no choice. Now, with his friend's stricken body in his arms, Aragorn knew that there was no turning back. Saruman the White Wizard, was now an enemy.
He closed his eyes in a sigh for a moment as they rode. He did not know how he was going to tell Gandalf. Saruman had been their friend, their leader...their mentor. They had trusted him, followed him...and now...Aragorn did not know what would happen now