Night had fallen quickly and silently. The air was still and quiet, heavy with moisture. Thick, dark clouds had threatened to break with rain the entire day but remained unyielding. As the night advanced, the need for relief only increased.
Two guards stood watch along the walls of the city of Minas Tirith. Their faces gleamed with sweat in the torchlight. One of the guards, older and grey, wiped his brow with a grubby piece of cloth.
'This heat is damn near unbearable,' he grumbled.
The other guard stood gazing into the East, towards the wasted land of Mordor. 'It's far too quiet,' he said, as if he had not heard his companion.
'Better quiet than listening to the screams of dying men,' responded the older guard grimly. 'That's what you would have heard fourteen years ago.'
'You speak as though I was not there,' said the other. 'One does not forget the sounds of war so easily. It would take a powerful magic to do so.'
His companion took a flask from a pouch on his belt and held it out. 'Would Gondor's finest ale do?' he asked with a grin.
The two remained quiet as they each took a few hearty swallows of the ale. After a few moments, the younger guard spoke.
'Something feels amiss—can you not sense it?'
The other guard swallowed another mouthful of ale. ' 'Tis nothing but the heat meddling with your brain. Doesn't help that you're staring off into the Black Land, either,' he added pointedly.
The younger shook his head and turned away. 'Perhaps you're right.' He took the flask back.
The hours passed by slowly as midnight drew near. Two other guards approached to take over their watch.
'Dead quiet tonight,' commented one of them. 'Seems almost two quiet, doesn't it?'
'I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so,' remarked the younger guard, glancing at his companion.
'I'm telling you, it's the damn heat—'
A sudden boom of thunder interrupted him. Seconds later several flashes of lightning followed and then another eruption of thunder.
'We'll finally have some rain then,' the older guard remarked, clearly relieved as he looked upwards. 'It's about damn time.'
The midnight bell tolled and the guards changed positions; the first two retreated to the guardhouse. As they walked, however, the ground beneath them began to rumble slightly.
They stopped and looked at one another in bewilderment. The rumbling quickly intensified until they had to brace themselves to keep from falling over. Once more, the thunder and lightning began, and a strong wind blew eastward. The heavy storm clouds swiftly moved with the wind and seemed to settle above Mordor, with bright flashes of lightning and loud thunder emitting from them.
The guards looked to the sky. Stars glittered brightly overheard; not a single cloud was to be seen.
'What in the name of Heaven—' began the older guard.
An unearthly, shrieking sound filled the air, far worse than the cries of the Nazgûl. Not a single person remained asleep in Gondor following this fell sound. Children awoke crying in terror; men immediately reached for the nearest weapon. Many covered their ears to block out the horrible shrieks and cries that had so suddenly began.
It lasted several agonizing minutes, then ceased. All eyes were turned to the East—the Land of Mordor.
- - -
King Elessar awoke, the evil shrieking resonating throughout the night air. He rushed from his bed to the window, searching for the source of the terrible noise. Arwen, also awake, came and stood by him. When it became quiet once more, a slight shudder went through her body.
'What was that?' she whispered, her eyes wide with fright.
'I know not,' replied Elessar. His gaze remained fixed upon the Black Land.
For the past fourteen years, Mordor had remained silent and empty and Gondor was able to reside in peace. Evil had not stirred there since the destruction of Sauron, but now Elessar could sense a dark presence lurking within the renewed shadows. The once dead wasteland seemed to be coming to life.
He turned to Arwen. She was startled by the alarm she saw in his eyes. 'I fear that evil has awakened in Mordor. I must call for counsel at once.' He quickly dressed, kissed Arwen fiercely, and rushed from the room in search of a messenger. She stared after him for a few moments, then turned once more to the window.
'May Elbereth help us all.'
- - -
Within less than an hour, the entire city of Minas Tirith was in chaos. Many sought the King for counsel, and though unsure of what had occurred, he was able to calm those he encountered. He called to him several messengers, instructing them to send word to Lord Faramir, Lord Imrahil, Legolas, and Gimli to come to the city as soon as possible. He then called for extra guards to be posted along the walls, telling them to remain alert and report anything amiss that they might see or hear. Finally, he sent several horsemen from the city to patrol the borders of the land and report back at dawn.
Several hours later, though the air was charged with trepidation and alarm, Elessar had managed to reassure the people. Exhausted, he returned to his room where Arwen awaited him.
'Now we must wait,' he said to her.
- - -
In the Far West, in the great Elven city of Tirion, a voice spoke in the dreams of three sleeping minds.
'For many years you fought against the evil of Melkor; you have suffered and lost, but in the end you prevailed. Now you dwell in peace, free of all worldly burdens.
'But there is yet a task that remains unfinished.
'Evil has arisen again. The time has come to return to Middle-earth and release the one you imprisoned so long ago. Only then can the darkness be truly defeated, once and for all.'
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Post-It Note: Yay! After a hiatus of far too long a time, I have finally revised my beloved LotR fanfic that I began writing in eighth grade, more than five years ago. Though things have changed—especially the first chapter—I plan on using most of the material that I had previously written. Well, hopefully. We'll see how that goes.
Well, I hope you all enjoyed the beginnings of my revised work. Please review; compliments and constructive criticisms are welcome, but flames will be laughed upon, followed by the summoning of my Ninja Squirrels of Doom to bombard flamers with rotten coconuts.
--Lady Galadriel
