A/N: You guys know I'm weird, right? Only I would try to write from the perspective of a Ringwraith's horse.
This story popped into my head when I realized the searchers found only eight dead horses after the flood. The specific wording is found in FotR, 'The Ring Goes South'. I started wondering what happened to the ninth horse, then thinking about how one would train a horse to tolerate something as evil as a Ringwraith. The thought processes collided, and here we are. I hope you enjoy it.
Keep in mind, horses don't really understand things like clothes. So when the horse is referring to 'black creatures', she's seeing the wraith's black robes, not their actual skin. And a horse's predominate emotions are happy and scared, so don't expect her to understand anything much more complex than that. Also, horses can't see directly in front of their faces or directly behind them.
oOoOo
From the moment she is born, darkness is part of her life. Not only the darkness that falls over one's eyes, though it is nighttime and the stable is unlit, but the shadowed creatures in their black robes, who are always there.
She is afraid of them, at first, as all foals are afraid of the world around them. Her mother teaches her what is safe, and since Mother is unafraid of the black creatures that go on two legs, the filly soon learns not to fear them. Every time they come near, she wants to run, but with the black creatures comes food, water, shelter from the cold, and best of all, certainty. She obeys the black creatures; she stands still when they lay their icy hands upon her, and she is rewarded with food. And to a horse, food is important enough that she will tolerate the black creatures.
In time, she learns to tolerate the black creatures in other ways. When she is half-grown, and no longer flinches at their touch, she is introduced to the saddle and bridle. She does not like the tightness of the girth, or the feel of the bit between her teeth, or the smell of the bent-backed and frightened slave who has put these things on her, but the black creature is near, and by now, she has learned that its presence means safety.
In a short time, she learns to carry the black creature. At first, this terrifies her; her instincts tell her to run from anything that tries to cling to her back. After all, lions and wolves kill horses in this manner, and though the black creature is not heavy, she finds it difficult to balance and walk when it sits in the saddle.
But she learns to walk, and trot, and gallop, to obey the pressure of the reins and the black creature's spurs. When she obeys, she is allowed to rest and eat. If she does not, the black creature grows angry and its anger frightens and traps her. She does not like to be trapped, unable to move freely, so it is best to obey.
As she learns, she meets other horses. They are nine in number, and each has been learning to obey one of the black creatures. They talk in soft murmurs of their lives, and wonder why the sky has grown dark of late. The unhappy slaves who tend them are even sadder and more frightened than usual.
One day, the black creatures saddle each of the nine horses, mount up, and ride. She does not know where they are going, but she obeys.
Onward and onward they go, far beyond anything she has ever known. The sky grows lighter but the black creatures grow darker and more angry. She does not like them to be angry.
They cross a river in the darkness, taken across the lapping water by a boat that rocks under them. She lays her ears back, afraid of this new thing, but her master tells her to stand and she obeys.
They ride for many days after crossing the river, always toward the setting sun. When she and the other horses cannot go over an obstacle, they seek ways around it, and their masters grow impatient, pulling at the reins to steer them back on course and urging them to greater speed. She is weary, as are the others, but their masters tell them to press on, and it is easier to obey.
They pass through groups of houses. People live in these buildings, she thinks, but they hide. Even the dogs bark once then slink away, terrified of something. Perhaps they are afraid of the black creatures? She dimly recalls fearing them, but they give her food and tell her what to do, and that is comforting.
Finally they come to a land inhabited only by tiny people. Even the largest ones could walk underneath her without ducking their heads. The black creatures grow angry at the sight of the little people. She is afraid, but her master commands her, with whip and spur, to keep moving.
They change direction. Now they are going back the way they came. She does not know why, but she knows her master is furious. Its anger grows when they come to a small house in the woods. All of the black creatures dismount and tie their horses to nearby trees, then enter the house. They scream, and the sound hurts her ears. She and her companions stamp nervously and try to see what is happening, as the tree branches whip around them and the wind howls.
When the black creatures return, she is afraid of them. They are so angry. She is so frightened that she cannot run away, and her master must use its spurs to tell her to move, then yanks on the reins to steer her. Her sides ache and she tastes blood.
They move on. She does not know where they are going. Nor do the other horses. They smell of confusion and fright. The black creatures do not notice.
Days pass. They move in the direction of the rising sun now. Perhaps they are going home, and the creatures are angry because they did not find what they sought in that little house?
Then they come upon the grey man. He looks old. Many of the slaves looked the same, but this man stands straight, leaning on a staff of wood. The black creatures are afraid of him. They flee. Her ribs hurt and her mouth tastes of blood again, but the black creatures are no longer afraid, so neither is she.
They continue toward the rising sun, though it is blocked by mountains in the distance. But she senses something odd ahead of her. It feels like one of the black creatures, but only faintly. This feeling grows stronger as the days pass and their pace quickens.
Then one day, she sees a glimpse of white ahead of her, and smells the faint scent of a strange horse. Her master urges her to gallop, and soon she sees that they are chasing a white horse. One of the little people clings to its back. It smells ill, and feels like one of the black creatures. She does not know why they are chasing the little person, but her master tells her to run as fast as she can, and she obeys.
But the white horse is faster than any of them. When it disappears from her sight, she would like to slow, for she is weary and thirsty, but her master spurs her onward until they come to a river. There her master falters. It is confused by the sound of running water, and its orders become less clear.
Is she meant to follow the white horse? For it is crossing the river, leaving her and eight other horses on the other side. She waits. Her master would not like her to move unless it tells her to. All nine of them stamp nervously, then one steps forward. The others follow, and now she feels her master's spurs telling her to do the same.
A light, a strange golden light bursts from the trees behind her. Startled, she looks back and sees a tall being, walking on two legs. The being is glowing like a small sun. She has never seen this before, but she understands the flaming torch in its hand. Fire is bad. She is wary of fire, and her master is telling her, with spur and rein, to enter the river. She is less afraid of water than fire, and the other horses are going ahead of her, so she steps forward.
She stumbles! She regains her balance, but her hoof hurts. She has cast a shoe. This has happened before, but never on such rocky ground. But her master says, 'go forward,' so she does, flinching in pain when she steps on a sharp stone.
She is the last to enter the river. Her injured hoof has barely touched the water when a roar echoes over the river. She stops, afraid, but her master savagely spurs her on. Obedient as ever, she takes another step forward, then stumbles again, falling to her knees.
There is so much pain. She cannot think, nor even feel her master's commands.
And the first wave crashes into her.