Okay, this is NOT an attempt to butcher LOTR in any way. this is just something I staarted because a friend challenged me to do it. We all know Shagrat has a terrible end in the book (or at least we can ASSUME he does, because he failed to capture and/or kill the two foot-fungus-factories, I mean hobbits). Well, my friend and I decided to rewrite his end. What if an orc got to make his own way in the world? This is my first work of fanfiction, so naturally it's going to suck. I know this. But still, if you like any part of this at all, please review. Oh, and I do not own LOTR.

An Eternal Bond

- 1. Apocalypse and Aftermath -

It was morning when the messenger from Minas Morgul arrived. Shagrat couldn't tell that by looking at the sky, which was always dark, but he had lived in Mordor long enough that he knew the smell of morning air. He could smell a faint scent of the dew on the trees on the other side of the mountains in which his home, the guard outpost tower of Cirith Ungol, was hidden. It was an old tower, originally built by men to prevent the inhabitants of Mordor from escaping into the rest of the world. It was fairly tall, but nowhere near the size of Barad-dûr, where the Dark Lord resided and where disobedient orcs were usually taken to be tortured.

Shagrat had lived there once, when he was young, as the Dark Lord's hand servant, waiting on Sauron hand and foot, day and night. But Sauron had been kind to him then. When he cried, Sauron held him. When he was frightened, Sauron was there to comfort him. And when he was sick or hurt, Sauron had taken care of him. The Dark Lord had even saved him from being eaten alive by vicious cannibal orcs. He was barely more than a baby, only three or four years of age, when he was brought by marauders to Mordor from some place he did not remember. The only thing he did remember about it was that there had been another orc running after him and calling his name as the villain carried him off and how he had cried out the other orc's name, which he could no longer recall. He couldn't even remember how he knew the orc or why he had wanted to go back to him so badly. When he arrived, he was chosen by Sauron and thus taken from the other orcs. In this way, he was saved from becoming truly evil.

Most of the time, although he was a servant, he didn't even work. Instead, Sauron would lock his bedroom door so they would not be disturbed, and spend hours at a time with Shagrat. Sometimes, he would sit on the floor and play with the baby orc, or he would wear his armor wrong or hold his mace in a strange way just to make Shagrat laugh. And laugh he would. He would fall over clapping his tiny hands and squealing with delight. Then Sauron would go and tickle him, and that only made him laugh harder. At night, Sauron would lay him down in his little bed in Sauron's room and pull his covers up to his chin. Then he would check under the bed for men and elves (Shagrat had been very scared of these). Then he would read or tell Shagrat a story to help him fall asleep. He would always end with "I love you, little Shagrat." and a kiss on the orc's forehead. In these ways, Sauron grew to be Shagrat's best friend and confidant, earned his trust, and, most importantly, became the father Shagrat had never had.

But then came the Ring.

When Shagrat had heard the full extent of his lord's plan, he had been afraid. He had questioned it and questioned the reason for it. But he had gotten no answer. All he had been given was an order that still ran across his mind daily, an order he knew, even now, at least two-and-a-half thousand years later, he had no choice but to follow. The memory was as clear in his head as if it had happened five minutes ago.

Sauron had said he wanted to see Shagrat alone, so Shagrat knew it had to be important. He raced to the throne room and was out of breath when he finally got there, so that when he tried to tell the guard why he was there, all that came out was a hoarse little squeak. Luckily, the guard had known to expect him and waved him on past. He rushed down to the far end of the room and collapsed onto his knees before the great black throne. He could see a large, armored figure seated on the throne, looking half, if not completely, asleep.

"My lord?" Shagrat squeaked out. The figure on the throne started and rose up straighter.

"You wanted to see me? I came as quickly as I could." he gasped. The Dark Lord sat motionless for a moment as Shagrat tried to catch his breath. Then, as if he saw the orc for the first time, he jumped up and was at Shagrat's side in an instant.

"My dear Shagrat, are you all right? Yes, I did say come quickly, but I didn't mean so quickly that you almost burst your heart." He put a large arm around the orc's shoulders and waited patiently until Shagrat spoke clearly again.

"What was it that you needed so urgently, my lord? Are we being attacked? Has a prisoner gotten loose inside the tower again? Is there a food shortage?"

"No." Sauron answered, "I would not have called you for something as minor as the things you have mentioned. No, this is a much more important task. You are the only orc I trust enough to assign it to."

Shagrat couldn't help feeling a little like bragging to the other orcs as he said, "Anything for you, my lord. Ask and I shall see it done or may the Timeless Void and the Pure Evil take me."

"I am glad your devotion is so strong, Shagrat, but I would never allow any of those things to happen to you. Now about your task, you must first understand that failure is not an option. You must succeed or the Void will take us all, and I would hate to see a fair soul like you sent to that awful place of pain and despair. So do whatever it takes to see this through, no matter what you have to do, no matter how extreme or drastic an action may seem. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. Now, what you have to do. I have told you of my plan to create a Great Ring that will control all of the others. Ash nazg durbatuluk, One Ring to rule them all."

"Yes, I remember that. I still do not like the idea, but you are wiser than I in such matters." Shagrat replied.

The Dark Lord nodded and continued.

"Yes, indeed. You know my plan well. But you know not the true reason I am doing this. For in this Ring will be contained a part of my soul, my deepest being. Within this part will be the bond that connects me to Morgoth."

Shagrat shook, suddenly frightened, at the sound of that name. Rarely was the true name of the Pure Evil that inhabited the Timeless Void ever spoken. Usually, it was avoided like a deadly plague, for just the thought of him seemed to suck the very life out of those who heard it. Sauron realized this and pulled the trembling orc closer to him.

"Forgive me, I had forgotten for a moment what power that name has here. I am sorry for frightening you."

"It's all right. Continue about my task, my lord."

"Right, your assignment. The bond to…him will be inside the Ring. The Ring will then have the ability to sever that bond and free me forever. Not only that, but if all goes according to plan, it will also return me to my fair form which I lost in the downfall of Nûmenor. But to do this, the Ring must be destroyed. That is where you come in, Shagrat. You must make sure it is destroyed, as I will not be able to." He paused a moment.

"Why not?" Shagrat asked, "You'll still help me…won't you?"

The Dark Lord shook his head.

"There is a downside to this, Shagrat. The part of me that will go into the Ring is the good and fair part because that is the only part of me that existed when the bond was formed. The part you are seeing now that is kind to you and to the other servants. This part will probably be gone once the Ring is made. The part of me that he created, the part the elves call "evil" will take over, and I will most likely become cruel and violent, a monster from your childhood nightmares. I will probably do everything possible to make sure the Ring is not destroyed, as it will give me the ability to take over all of Middle-earth through controlling the other Rings of Power. Yes, Shagrat, they too are a part of thi plan. I will use them and my control over them as a cover-up to ensure that The Pure Evil will not suspect anything. That is why I ask you to make sure the Ring is destroyed. You will not be affected by its creation. I will make sure you are there to witness its making so that you may see it and sense it. This will allow you to recognize the Ring for what it is when the chance arrives to destroy it. I will apologize in advance for bringing this upon you, Shagrat, as you will be in the most danger of being hurt if I go into a mad rage after creating it."

Now Shagrat was scared.

"What if you come after me when I've got the Ring to destroy it? What's to stop you from killing me to get it back? If what you say is true, then you will not treat me as you do now. I will be considered a slave, along with everyone else."

Sauron smiled.

"My little Shagrat, did you really think I would leave you unprotected and defenseless? No, I will do two things to help you. First, you will no longer reside here. As of today, you are reassigned as border guard captain to the outpost of Cirith Ungol. It is the farthest of our outposts from Barad-dûr, so you will be safe there. However, I will give you a second defense in the event that you and I come across each other before the Ring is destroyed. I will place a Mark on you so that you cannot be hurt or killed by our enemies or me. The way a Mark works is that it is placed around someone you love very much. A spouse, a child, or just a close friend. It will protect them from whatever harm you wish to keep them safe from. Furthermore, the Mark cannot be removed by the person who placed it unless they feel the one who was Marked is safe."

"Thank you, my lord. I'll see to it that the deed is done. But I have one more question."

"Yes?"

"What if I become old and die of old age before I can destroy it?"

"Shagrat, you need not fear that. For, just as I am bound to the Nameless One, so are you to me. As long as I live, so will you. Your life will be much like that of an elf, in that you will retain your youth even if thousands of years pass. You will be the same then as you are now. Of course, you will age eventually, but it will happen very slowly."

"That's good." Shagrat said with a sigh of relief.

"Again, I am sorry to put you in so much danger, but I do not trust anyone else to remain true to their word as I know you will. Shagrat-" he put one hand on each of the orc's arms, "-you must not fail. My life is now in your hands."

With those words, the full importance of this job hit Shagrat, and he knew he could tell no one about it. Of course, he could back out. He knew Sauron would understand and would let him. One part of him screamed at him to do this. But another part asked If not me, then who? There is no one else. He then realized he had no choice. Sauron was depending on him. When he needed something, he knew he could count on Sauron to make it happen. Now the tables were turned and it was he who was being counted on. He knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he let Sauron down. So, with a deep breath, he gave his word.

"I will do it, my lord Sauron. And I will not fail."

..and I will not fail. The last words of his promise echoed in his mind as the messenger approached him. He noticed what kind of orc it was and stuck out his tongue in disgust. Ugh, he thought, a Morgul rat. Like most of the Uruk-hai, he despised these creatures. They were absolutely sickening to look at. Their arms and legs were never completely straight, and when they walked, they were bent over like hunchbacks. Their skin was the color of puke, which is what Shagrat felt like doing whenever he saw one, and it was full of wrinkles and cancers because they never bathed, even if there was an opportunity to do so. They often had little to no hair. What hair they had was usually far back on their heads and only in the middle. Their ears, he thought, were far too big and long. The Morguls looked ridiculous with their long pointed ears almost larger than their heads, and some even wore chains on their ears, with one end hanging from the lobe and the other hanging from the point of their ear. Shagrat was just waiting for the day when one got his ear chains stuck on something and ripped his entire ear off. And their freakish yellow-green eyes made his stomach flip over, as they were sunk into the already hideous, shrunken face that radiated viciousness and scared or sickened everyone they met. But the thing Shagrat found most amusing was the way they walked. Instead of being upright and taking ordinary steps, they waddled along with their hind ends stuck out behind them as if they were asking to be kicked there. Some of the meaner Uruk-hai actually did this, but Sauron had scolded the urge out of Shagrat.

In contrast, Shagrat thought his own kind, the Uruk-hai, were the best kind of orc in existence. When they walked, they were tall and confident, with straight arms and legs, straight backs, and heads held high. Shagrat was no exception, but he was a bit on the small side for an Uruk-hai. Actually, he was the smallest Uruk in Mordor (but to a Man or Elf he would still be plenty big.) Other than that, his lack of bulky muscle, and the fact that he alone had a long tassel-ended tail that fell to his ankles, Shagrat looked just like the rest of the Uruk-hai. They had smooth, dark brown skin, which was kept as clean as possible. An Uruk bathed whenever he got the chance. Unlike the Morguls, the Uruks had long black hair that fell midway down their backs. This, too, was kept as clean as possible. In the days before the Ring, the Uruk-hai had been very impressive to look at, their hair falling in smooth, shiny black curtains down their backs. Now it was usually tangled and matted with dirt and filth, and their ears struggled to hold some of it back. Uruk-hai had small ears that were shaped somewhat like an elf's, but with a little more of a point to them. They never pierced their ears for fear of being compared to the "Morgul rats" as the Uruks called them, but some of them would braid or weave small stones or beads into their hair. Some Uruks wore their hair in braids to try and avoid getting too much unidentified filth in it, but Shagrat left his hair down. The only things he wore in it were two tiny silver bands, one on either side of his head, to keep his hair out of his face, and cords of silver that held two thin braids just in front of his ears. These inadvertently drew attention to his face. In his days at Barad-dûr, he had had a kind, sweet face like most of the Uruks that lived there. Now it was tired and weary of the long years of poverty and filth he had lived in for so long. If one looked at him, though, it seemed that he, more so than the other Uruk-hai, had kept this kind and sweet look. At any rate, it could still be seen in his large, watery blue eyes.

At the moment, though, those eyes were narrowed and their brows furrowed in distaste.

"Are you captain Shagrat?" the Morgul croaked in its raspy, gravelly voice.

"I am. And what, may I ask, brings you here? It better be important." If anyone else had been listening, they would have thought Shagrat's soft, clear, but authoritative voice like music to listen to. Just another remnant of his fairer self from his past.

"Erm, well, we received a report…from one of our lookouts, you see…that there were intruders in the mountains…or was it the valley…no, it was the mountains…and they were headed your way, and, well, there's talk of the Boss sending a troop of ours…that's our soldiers, from Minas Morgul, you know…sending them up here to be reinforcements…you know, uh, help you out if there's, you know, a fight or, uh, a battle of some…some sort. So…so I was sent..by the Witch King of Angmar, y'know, the Lord of the Ringwraiths himself, mind you…to…uh…to, uh, let you know. Yes, I was sent to-"

"I know what you were sent for! You already told me, you stinking fool!" By this time, Shagrat was quite annoyed with listening to the Morgul rambling on and continuously pausing and getting off subject. It was another thing about them that bothered him, the fact that they always talked like this one had. Why can't they just get to the point, say what they need to say, and be done with it?, he thought, I could say all that in far less than a quarter of the time it took him. The Morgul started up again and Shagrat tried his best to hold himself together

"Yes, so I did. Wait…did i? I don't know. No, I don't think so. Well, sir, I'll, uh, just, uh, I'll just tell you. I was sent here to-"

"I KNOW!" Shagrat yelled. "YOU WERE SENT TO TELL ME THAT I'VE GOT A WHOLE RABBLE OF YOU USELESS THINGS HEADED UP HERE FOR ME TO DEAL WITH! YES, I GET IT! DO I LOOK STUPID ENOUGH TO NOT UNDERSTAND THAT? DO I, YOU RAT?" He let out an angry hiss and pinned his ears. His tail flicked and twitched in agitation.

The little orc jumped back with a hoarse yelp, and for good reason. It is unwise to be within a sword's reach of an angry Uruk-hai, especially if he has a sword as Shagrat did, for they are known for their superhuman speed and strength. And while Shagrat was very small for an Uruk-hai, he was a more than formidable opponent for the messenger.

"N-no. No, you don't. My apologies, Captain. So sorry. I'll just be on my way now. Again, so sorry, so very, very-"

"Just get out of my sight before I kick you over the mountains to the Men."

The Morgul started to speak again, but a growl from Shagrat told him that wasn't just a threat. He turned quickly back the way he came. But as he turned away, he cast a last glance back at Shagrat and said.

"I fear the end of Mordor comes soon."

Then, before Shagrat could respond, he was gone.

Shagrat remained by the wall in the courtyard that overlooked the rest of Mordor. He knew the ways of the Morgul orcs well, and he knew that their messengers always arrived with news on very short notice. Sure enough, only about an hour later, he could hear the shuffling footsteps of the Morgul troop and he wrinkled his nose in disgust when their foul, unclean smell reached his nostrils. He sighed and wondered how long they would be here. He even thought of turning them around and saying he didn't need reinforcements. This thought immediately vanished when he remembered that they had been sent by the Lord of the Ringwraiths, the Witch King. As much as he hated the rats, Shagrat was not stupid enough to bring about the wrath of the Witch King. He had heard too many times of orcs and even a few Uruk-hai who had angered the wraith and were never seen or heard from again after that. Shagrat didn't know what happened to them, and, given the Witch King's reputation of violence and ruthlessness, he didn't want to find out. So instead, he strode over to the gate, standing as straight and tall as possible. If these horrid things were staying here, that was fine, as long as they remembered who was boss at Cirith Ungol.

"Oi, you!" the Morgul captain called, "You be the captain here? You captain Ragmat, or whatever it is?"

Shagrat strode over to stand in his way.

"My name is Shagrat, and you would do very well to remember that, captain…"

"Gorbag." the little orc snorted, "It's Gorbag."

Shagrat made a face. Even their names were disgusting. But he had to admit, the name fit the creature very well. Gorbag was hideous, even for a Morgul orc. His puke colored skin hung loosely on his bones and was covered with more tumors and boils than Shagrat had ever seen or even thought possible on one orc. When he walked, he was so bent over, his arms were almost dragging on the ground and his head was stuck out like a vulture's. Shagrat snickered to himself as the little orc turned and walked back to his troop, his rather large hind end wagging back and forth with each step. He shook his head, and suddenly thought of the best place to possibly lose some Morguls.

"Say, Gorbag.." he began.

"Wha?" said the Morgul, not really listening. Shagrat continued.

"I have to make a patrol run down to the Lady Shelob's cave in a few minutes and I was thinking, since you all are here to assist me, well, maybe you all would come along and make yourselves useful." Shagrat disliked going to the spider's cave anyway, so he would take whatever company he could get. Just to make it look like he didn't fear the spider queen though, he called out some of his own soldiers and the two groups slowly made their way down to the cave, the Morguls, and the Cirith Ungol Uruk-hai arguing and bickering the whole way, until both of the captains had headaches. Shagrat's was the worse one, as his ears worked better than Gorbag's which, looked like he had pulled on them and stretched them far too much.

I will not go into detail much about what happened after that, when the orcs found Frodo and were arguing over who got his belongings, because that part is probably already known to you if you have read the book or seen the movie. Which, if you are reading this, you most likely have. I will only say that as Sam ran to go find the stairway that would lead him to Frodo, he crossed paths with Shagrat, who had been injured in the quarrel that followed his fight with Gorbag over Frodo's mail shirt. His right arm hung at his side by only a few threads of skin. Gorbag's sword had rendered it completely useless. He stood facing Sam and holding the bag of Frodo's things in his good hand. He stood and waited to see what the hobbit would do next. His years of experience as a border guard fighting off invading Men and Elves had taught him never to make the first move in a fight, unless you have a death wish. Before you get the wrong idea, I will add here that Shagrat's name was famous amongst the armies, for he had won many border fights without ever getting a drop of blood on his sword (he didn't kill anyone, but he might have knocked them out or maimed them in some way). The others under him would kill some, but Shagrat himself had never actually killed anyone before, and he wasn't about to start now. Not with a tiny little Halfling, anyway.

"Well are you going to attack me like a normal orc or just stand there staring at me?" Sam seemed to have the same knowledge as Shagrat when it came to potential fights. Finally, Shagrat began to get impatient.

"In the top tower, down the hall to the left, look for the trapdoor, and climb the ladder. He'll be there." the orc said loud enough for Sam to hear. The hobbit was clearly surprised. The last thing he had expected was for the orc to help him and give him straightforward directions to Frodo.

Shagrat didn't know why he had helped the hobbit, except that it seemed like the exact right thing to do. Or maybe it was that smell…He had smelled it before, and it had been something bad. Something that had smelled of sulfur and fire and… and hot metal. Suddenly, he remembered. It was the Ring, or at least the scent of it. The hobbit had it, and somehow Shagrat knew they were headed for Mount Doom.

"Good luck!" he called after Sam but the hobbit didn't respond. Shagrat stripped a few dead Uruks of their armor and gear and set it out where he knew Sam would find it. Then he took up the bag again and disappeared down the road, headed towards Barad-dûr.

I will only add here about the hobbits that after Sam found Frodo, he remarked that his friend needed to disguise himself as an orc while they were in Mordor. When Sam went down the ladder to look for things, he was surprised to find a set of orc clothing and gear already laid out that looked to be just the right size for Frodo. He gladly took the things and, as it was the last living thing he had seen before finding Frodo (who had been right where Shagrat said he would be. This made Sam wonder if maybe the orc was sick in the head, or what we would call brain damaged.), he easily guessed who had left these things there for him to find.

"Shagrat." Sam said, "It had to be.". He looked out a window and saw a tiny dark dot streaking away from Cirith Ungol. He knew it was Shagrat, making off to who knew where with Frodo's beautiful mithril coat. Sam didn't know why he did what he did next, but it felt necessary and somehow it just felt…right.

"Thank you." he said softly to the disappearing orc. Maybe there really are good orcs, he thought, Maybe Shagrat is one of them.

He turned back to get Frodo. They had to keep moving.

It took Shagrat twelve days to reach Barad-dûr. For, although he could see it from Cirith Ungol, the distance was actually very far, especially if you were travelling on foot as Shagrat was. He could only see it because the land between the two places was so barren and flat and Barad-dûr itself was gigantic in size. Even the main entrance causeway, at which he now stood, was enormous. He stopped to rest a moment before starting to cross. The causeway itself was very large too. Eight Uruk-hai could walk across shoulder to shoulder and not feel cramped. Shagrat looked up to the top of the tower, where he could see the flickering light of the Great Eye against the dark, cloudy sky. He knew that Eye was actually Sauron, and Shagrat pitied him. His lord had been so good to him, for so long, and now he was reduced to a lifeless existence as a giant flaming lidless eye stuck up on top of a tower. Then he remembered the hobbit who had the Ring, and he smiled to himself.

"It won't be long now, my lord." he thought, "It's on its way to being destroyed. Just hold on a little bit longer." He then proceeded to cross the causeway.

He raced for the throne room once he was inside. Not because he wanted to see the person who was there, but because he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. When he entered, he saw the Mouth of Sauron seated on Sauron's black throne, which was a bit too big for it, as it was half the Dark Lord's size.

Shagrat tried to hide his disgust. He deeply detested this creature even more than he did the Morguls, and he knew it didn't like him much either. Ever since Sauron had been lost in the Battle of the Last Alliance, the Mouth had asserted itself as the ruler of Mordor and basically taken over everything. It took pleasure in violence and pain, and it had terrible dark powers of its own. It was rumored that it even ate some of its victims after they died. And there was nothing Sauron could do to stop it, as he was only a flaming eye atop the tower. The Mouth had basically stolen his title, his ruling power, and his honor in the eyes of his subjects. And every deed that resulted from its takeover the Mouth blamed on Sauron and swore that it was only "a lowly servant doing his master's bidding." The mere thought of this injustice made Shagrat feel sick, and the total unfairness of it filled him with rage. To see this foul thing sitting on Sauron's throne as if it were the rightful Lord of Mordor did not sit well with him, but he shrugged it off. He was determined not to give the thing another way to put him down, to make him feel like a completely inferior farm animal, which Sauron had told him so many times he wasn't.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't captain Dungrat, or whatever. What brings you here?" the Mouth sneered, messing up his name on purpose. As usual.

"Well, I certainly didn't come just to visit you." Shagrat said, sounding more confidant than he actually felt, "I just came to alert you that we found out there was an intruder loose."

"And did you send your soldiers out after it?" the thing asked.

"Er…well, that's where the problem is. We had captured one of the intruders, but my group got into a fight about what to do with his things with those Morguls you had the Witch King send up and, well, I'm the only one left. And I did not escape unharmed." Shagrat held up his bad arm, which he had bandaged himself, so the Mouth could see it. Then he let go and it fell down to his side again.

"Oh, poor Mudmat," the Mouth replied sarcastically. "Well, as you well know, anything belonging to any prisoner was to be brought here for inspection. I see you've brought something with you, so you know that at least. Is that the prisoner you have brought to us?"

"Er…well, not exactly," he said. Shagrat racked his brains to figure out just what to say. He didn't dare reveal that he had helped the prisoners escape. "His accomplice found him during the quarrel and they escaped while we were all fighting." It was the best he could come up with, but he could tell by the way the Mouth was leaning forward that it was not good enough.

"And did you see which way they went?" it asked, its foul breath strong with the scent of death, so that it almost choked Shagrat.

"Um…toward Mount Doom?" he said quietly.

"And did you try to stop them?" It glared at him.

"N-no, I-I d-d-didn't." Shagrat stuttered. That was one of the Mouth's abilities. It could generate fear, which is what it was doing now. It did this to those it was interrogating, to scare them into telling the truth, confessing to a crime, or betraying their friends and loved ones.

"You thought it more important to come here first?" A malicious smile began to cross its face.

"Y-yes." Shagrat squeaked.

"FOOL!" the Mouth screamed, jumping up from the throne, "DID YOU NOT THINK HIS ACCOMPLICE MIGHT POSSIBLY HAVE SAURON'S RING OF POWER? OR THAT THOSE INTRUDERS MIGHT BE ON THEIR WAY TO DESTROY IT? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH DANGER YOU HAVE JUST PUT US ALL IN? DO YOU?"

Shagrat, now frozen in fear as the Mouth was much larger than him, said nothing.

"ANSWER ME, YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR AN ORC!"

But Shagrat was speechless. He tried to answer, but no words came out. Furious, the Mouth grabbed him by the neck and, with its superhuman strength, hurled him at the nearest wall. He hit with his head first. There was a sickening crack and a gasp from Shagrat as he slid to the floor and stayed there. A searing pain raced through his entire body, but especially his head. He reached up to feel it and found where his head had split open in the back. The wound was small and not very deep, but it hurt like nothing he had felt before, and when he pulled his hand away, there was blood on his fingers.

He had no time to react as the Mouth rushed at him, a barbed whip in its hand.

"I'LL TEACH YOU TO IGNORE ME, YOU STUPID, WORTHLESS ORC!" it yelled as it began beating him with the lash in any exposed area of flesh it could find. Shagrat quickly curled up into a tight ball, trying to protect his face. The pain was like nothing he had ever imagined, and as the Mouth showed no sign of stopping any time soon (it just beat him harder if he moved), tears had began welling up in his eyes, so that he could hardly see anything around him. The Mouth was in such a rage that it didn't hear him as he cried out through his tears.

"My lord Sauron, please save me!"

But though he knew Sauron heard him, he also knew the Dark Lord could not help him until he was Restored to his former self by the destruction of the Ring. And unless the Ring was destroyed very soon, it would not matter if Sauron was Restored, because Shagrat would be dead at the hand of the Mouth. He could already see the thing ravenously tearing at the flesh of his corpse.

Not far away, inside Mount Doom, a little hobbit stood on the edge of a cliff. Far below, a river of lava flowed slowly past.

In his hand, the hobbit held a chain. And on that chain was a Ring.

Another fatter hobbit came inside and saw the one with the Ring standing there.

This was the moment their whole journey had led up to. This was why they had come here. Sam thought of all their friends they had made on their journey. He thought of the fair elves of Rivendell and Lorien. He thought of all the hobbits back in the Shire.

"Go on!" he yelled to Frodo. He thought of all the people they were about to save. He looked out towards Barad-dûr, which he could see rising dark and tall into the sky out the entrance to Mount Doom, and thought he could just faintly hear, in his head, a voice crying out, as if its owner was in terrible pain.

"…please save me!"

Of course, he could have been imagining it, but he knew the voice. It was the same voice that had told him Shelob hadn't killed Frodo, the same voice that had upheld the orders that kept Frodo alive, the same voice that had led him to his reunion with Frodo. And suddenly, he thought of Shagrat, the orc who had helped them to escape the orc tower. Sam imagined this had been found out and Shagrat was probably in a dungeon somewhere deep underground, being tortured for helping them. It then came to him that he wanted to return the favor, that is, if Shagrat wasn't already dead.

"Destroy it!" he yelled. Frodo gave him an affirmative glare and whispered the one word Sam hoped he wouldn't say.

"No."

What happened next was very quick and very well known, so I won't describe it, except for the last joyful cries of a small gangrel creature as it fell toward the lava and was swallowed up by it. Its hand was the last thing to go. And in that hand was a golden Ring.

The One Ring was destroyed.

This is the end, Shagrat thought as the Mouth still continued lashing him, I'm going to die here. Oh, Sauron, why didn't you protect me from everyone? I will be dead for sure by the time you are fully restored. That is, if the Ring has even been destroyed. Oh, forgive me, my lord. I have failed you. You trusted me with your life and I let you down. I gave you my word and did not keep it. I am so sorry, my lord. Please, please forgive me. Please.

But even as he had these thoughts, the floor began to tremble beneath him. A loud rumbling filled the tower, and everyone, even the Mouth, froze in the midst of whatever they were doing. Shagrat was the first to look up and spot the true phenomenon. The Mouth followed his gaze as the ceiling above them began to glow. The light got brighter and brighter, until they all had to shield their eyes. A loud, piercing shrieking could be heard all around them and so they moved their hands to cover their ears and instead squeezed their eyes shut. There was a sudden, deafening boom, like a great thunderclap. Without warning, Shagrat felt himself thrown high into the air. Below him was a sound like a great avalanche. He dared to open his eyes to see what had happened. He saw Barad-dûr literally being torn apart by the force of the great explosion, which had thrown him up high over Mordor. He was suddenly aware that he was slowing down. He seemed to stop completely and just hang suspended in the air for a few seconds. Next thing he knew, he was dropping like a stone toward the ground. He saw the Nazgûl flying wildly about and thrust out both of his hands. By luck, he caught hold of a fell beast's tail as it dropped toward the ground. It slowed his fall quite a bit. He reached out with one hand and grabbed another fell beast by the tail. This slowed him down even more. The two beasts were headed for the ground. But just as they were about to get low enough for Shagrat to let go of their tails and land on his feet, they whipped their tails upwards, rather quickly. So surprised was Shagrat that he lost his grip and went flying across the plain. He landed, had he known it, right in the exact spot where Sauron's throne had been just seconds earlier. When he fell, he hit his head on a leftover piece of said throne, gave a small grunt, and then Shagrat fell unconscious and knew no more.