Hi and thank you guys for the reviews/follow! I'm glad that you like the concept of this collection of sorts and that you'd like to see more. So for this one, there's not much romance/fluffiness in this but I still decided it would be important to include considering it's between the Witch-king and Sauron. I hinted to it in the last oneshot for a reason since I wanted it to foreshadow what exactly happens in this one. The italics in this oneshot and in the future ones denote a character's thoughts or between two or more characters, a telepathic conversation as you will see between Sauron and his former servant. I won't say much about this other than I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you all enjoy it as well! Drop a review if you like and please read on!

The Servant Serves Nevermore

Night had only recently fallen on the magnificent city of Minas Tirith but in the east, it seemed as if the sun was rising. Over the black, jagged peaks that had separated the realms of Gondor and Mordor, a great yet hellish luminosity lit up the skies, coloring them with various hues of red, orange and yellow. The source of this ominous conflagration came in the form of Mount Doom whose rivers of magma contained within its body were threatening to be vomited out at any moment. Thick and choking gray plumes of smoke snaked from the mouth of the active volcano and penetrated the atmosphere, distributing its acrid pollutants. The rumblings of the terrible mountain sounded much like a wrathful dragon and unsettled the neighboring inhabitants of the white citadel.

Although a battle had been won by the forces of righteousness a few days earlier, an air of tension and suspense held Minas Tirith captive. The victorious still felt anxious because of the thunderous and chaotic symphony of Mordor. The reality that they still had to confront yet another vile legion of Orcs very shortly further unnerved them. It needed to be done though. If they were to survive, they would ride out to the Black Gates. They would also need to strengthen their resolve and place their renewed hopes and trust into two resilient and determined Hobbits.

The denizens of the city had decided to turn in early on this evening; the labor and stress of the battle was still heavy on their minds and bodies. Many had heard the chorus of the Black Lands but equally as many chose to ignore it and instead focus their energy on preparing and recovering in what little time they had left.

While many had opted to ignore the foreboding call of Mordor, one man had chosen to face it. He even had the audacity to glare at it in ire and sharpen his gaze to see the Great Eye. He was a casualty of the battle and was once a feared and mighty agent of Sauron but he no longer looked at the cursed land with an admiring yet unfeeling stare. In death, he was now defiant to his previous overlord and enslaver. The fiery display being reflected by the thick clouds that surrounded Mordor reminded him of his own anger that seethed and built up at a frightening pace. For so long, he had blindly and unthinkingly heeded the whim and wishes of Sauron but now the memories of being under his service revolted him and infuriated him. During that time, he was not his own man and had not been granted an ounce of free action or thought. Everything he had done, said or thought was under the constant influence of the Dark Lord. It was all because he accepted a gift from a seemingly kind soul by the name of Annatar…

The Witch-king of Angmar could wait no longer. He feared that if a living soul had approached him unknowingly, he would unleash all his pent up hatred and anger on that being. For now, he needed to depart and direct his hostilities to Sauron. One of the very last things he wanted to do was to harm an innocent person.

His helmeted and ghostly head turned and he looked over his shoulder. Behind him lain a woman in her bed. The Rohirrim princess was still recovering from her wounds and she was now sleeping deeply and peacefully. He was confident that she would be alright since her ailment was stabilizing and she was no longer in grave and immediate danger. Not only that, he had seen that she was in good hands. As awkward as it once seemed to him, the Witch-king had trusted her caretakers who were once his enemies. The spirit was reluctant to leave her side but he felt it was appropriate to confront Sauron one last time. As soon as the meeting was finished, he would promptly return. As usual, she would remain oblivious to his presence.

He could hear and feel a gust of wind around him. He stepped closer to the window and partially leaned out of it. Seeing no other way to make it to Mordor in a swift amount of time (and preferring to not think of any other ways), he dematerialized and allowed the breeze to bear him. Then he manipulated the chilly air and steered it to the east.

(…)

Sauron had sensed his greatest servant's demise from afar. First, he had felt that he could no longer feel a strong connection to the Witch-king. The revelation had startled him and he almost panicked, fearing that some sort of powerful, opposing magic had overridden the bonds he placed on the Nazgûl lord or his own sorcery had somehow weakened. Then seconds later, he couldn't feel his presence at all. It was almost as if he had disappeared from Middle-Earth entirely. When he had turned his Eye to the battle taking place at the Pelennor Fields, he had discovered the truth and had seen nothing but a pile of robes and discarded armor.

The loss of his lead Ringwraith was a shock and an inconvenience for Sauron but it was not a vastly significant one to him. He reasoned to himself that he had eight other remaining Nazgûl at his beck and call. They were still formidable minions and the Witch-king's second-in-command, Khamûl, had stepped up to take the place of his superior. It would be a shame that the Witch-king would no longer be in his employ but he would not dwell or focus on it too much. To Sauron, he was just another slave. He was a slave that had commanded more value than some random Orc but he was still expendable if it called for it and he could be replaced fully in time.

From out of the blue, Sauron then sensed a very familiar presence drawing closer to his domain. For the fleetest moment, he had questioned himself, wondering if he was just imagining things. He had been under a lot of stress lately, particularly because of his loss at the Pelennor Fields and his Ring had remained elusive. But as long as the presence advanced to his lands, the Dark Lord saw that he wasn't hallucinating.

"Khamûl's reign will be short lived it seems," he thought to himself. "This is a most unexpected yet pleasant twist… I thought he had died. No, I saw his shrouds and armor! I felt him perish!" Sauron still felt the odd disconnection he had experienced with him. "But why can I feel that he is no longer bound to me?!"

For a few seconds, the Eye blazed angrily at this reality. He hated uncertainty and not having any questions answered. At the moment, he would have to wait for some explanations until his unexpected visitor arrived. Perhaps he would have an idea of how he miraculously came back.

Sauron received somewhat of an answer when he suddenly saw the apparition of the Witch-king manifest before him. He had hovered in the air before the Eye, his familiar eyeless gaze peering back at him. The Eye's pupil compressed in puzzlement for a few seconds before it then dilated to its normal shape. The fallen Nazgûl had indeed been slain at the Fields and he was appearing before Sauron as a specter. He had expected the Witch-king to have had passed on to the Halls of Mandos for judgment and then tossed into the Void for his thousands of years of dark deeds but here he was in front of him. It was a conundrum for him. But then he smiled inwardly, assuming that his second-in-command refused to rest in peace out of sheer devotion to his master. However, he did not speak at all, only staring back fearlessly into the Eye.

"I have many questions for you, Witch-king," Sauron started, deciding to break the silence between the two of them. "I knew you had died and there was no way you could come back to life…"

"I won't answer to you anymore, knave," was his cold reply. "I will reply to you as I see fit."

The telepathic conversation between the two was then temporarily cut short by the Witch-king. Sauron was beyond livid. He had been interrupted curtly by his underling and he had the gall to announce that he would no longer obey him. The flaming Eye seemed to grow brighter as his dangerous and wrathful anger flared up.

"It is that accursed break in our bond that is leading you to act like this!" he fumed. "You wouldn't dare to speak like this to me normally!"

"You speak the truth about one thing at long last," the Witch-king said mockingly. "If I had not been killed and freed from my horrid imprisonment, I would've been following you around mindlessly like some unintelligent lamb as I had done for the longest time. Now I have been enlightened and I am regaining more and more of my humanity. It is a sad irony that in death I have felt more alive than I have had in many years. I have come forth to express my…extreme distaste to how you have treated me and so many others."

"HOW DARE YOU!" The Eye was now looking more like a roiling sun now as Sauron's fury was reaching its breaking point. Deep within the fortress below, his physical body was violently clutching his throne's armrests at his servant's deliberate disobedience.

"Well, I can say I'm pleased fire isn't a weakness of mine anymore…" Witch-king muttered. The brightness and intensity of the flames had made him look away for a moment but he then refocused his attention onto Sauron. "You have robbed me of my life, Sauron. I still do not remember much of my old life but I do recall that I was once a king. You took me away from my kingdom, my people and my family… I can only imagine what became of my realm when I fully succumbed to that wretched ring you bestowed upon me… I probably left it in ruins and forsook it."

"It was your own weakness and fault that you accepted the ring! You were a stupid, foolish, old man when I came to you all those years ago! You asked me if the ring would help bring prosperity, plenty and peace to your kingdom and of course I would say yes! So whose fault was it, Witch-king? You were responsible for your own fate before I ensnared you. You were the one that walked into my trap…" He snickered lowly and looked at the phantom belittlingly. "I remember the time I came for you when I sensed the ring fully consumed your mind, body and soul… You were whimpering behind your throne like a coward, murmuring and crying to yourself. You had tried your hardest to fight back against it but in the end, you failed miserably like the other eight!"

The Witch-king was glad he couldn't recall on that exact memory just yet but he sensed it would make itself known to him in time. For a moment, Sauron's words had humbled and humiliated him but he reminded himself that there was no need to fear or heed the Dark Lord any longer. He was already dead and it was not like he could experience a second death at his hands. A low and dangerous hiss emanated from within the darkened cavity where his face once was.

"That may be true, Sauron, and in time, I know I will remember such a memory but for now, it is eluding me," he spoke after a few seconds of silence. "That is something I will be forced to cope with whenever it finally returns to haunt me."

Sauron scoffed darkly. The Eye continued to furiously stare at the immaterial Ringwraith.

"If that be the case, then you will be tortured by your conscious and the memories of the…" He maliciously savored the painful revelations the spirit would be forced to make amends with eventually. Unknown to the Witch-king's knowledge, Sauron knew very well of what happened to the former king of men when he had accepted the ring. He often entertained himself with the memories of what his Nine Riders had to endure during the time their respective rings had ruined them. "…unfortunate and sorrowful things that had happened due to the sole fact you had accepted my gift."

"I'm already paying for it now, Sauron," the Witch-king growled as he struggled to prevent himself from shrieking in fury and hatred. "I know my soul is most likely predestined for the darkness and agony of the Void because of that foolish choice I made." If he could smile at that moment, he would. "The sole comfort I take in that fact is that I will not be suffering in that hellish pit by myself. Soon enough, Sauron, you will join me. I can sense that the hour of your demise is at long last upon Middle-Earth. It will be the most liberating and glorious hour that it will ever experience. At long last, you will taste retribution and answer for your crimes against the world."

"Do not become so hasty to trust in your optimistic and misleading feelings, Wraith. As long as the Ring is not yet within the interior of Mount Doom, then I am still deathless! I am beyond the Valar! I am above being cast into the Void!" For a moment, Sauron fell silent and his curiosity was piqued once more regarding the topics of the afterlife and divine judgment. "Though I know you have come here to heckle and harass me, I am still ignorant of the mystery of how you still you remain in this realm… It is obvious to me that you are still bound but for what reasons, I do not know. Don't be shy to tell me. You've already earned an eternal enemy in me and I will never forgive you for your rebellious obstinacy…"

The Witch-king very well knew of his motives and wishes to not pass on to the other side yet he had no desire to voice them to Sauron. A part of him had feared being cast into the Void for his thousands of years of service to the fallen Maia although he had been manipulated and controlled for that amount of time. He had avoided the call of the heavenly realm because he knew he would be judged before the holy hosts. Undoubtedly, he knew what their verdict would be and no matter how much he would beg and plead, they would ignore his requests for mercy. He had deeply regretted serving Sauron and committing the wicked and atrocious deeds he had carried out under his command but more than anything else, the Witch-king felt that his remorse would never be enough to pardon his sins.

When he was at death's door and the dark magic that kept him anchored to Sauron had been dispelled from him through Merry's enchanted dagger, he felt as if he was waking up from the longest nightmare. At that moment, he felt as if he was himself again. He felt as if he was sleeping for thousands of years and had suddenly woken up as if he was a mere man. To his great disdain and misfortune, it all turned out to be too real and horrible to be a devilish reverie. It was very real and he was now a condemned and hated soul. In the eyes of many living souls, he wasn't even a man; he was more of a creature or an entity of pure intent and terror than anything else. That had actually pained him to know that.

He also stayed rooted in the physical world for another reason. The Witch-king fortified his emotions and steeled himself before the Eye. He dared to not bring the blonde-haired princess into this and possibly have her targeted by Sauron. A mere thought about her made his being feel incredibly light and joyous but he could not let him know that. He did not fear Sauron but he feared what he could do to Ếowyn.

"I stay here because I wish to see you fall," the helmeted specter said venomously. "Perhaps I will rest in peace when I see you perish at long last. I know that it will take this beautiful land some time to heal itself of the wounds you've inflicted on it but as long as you are permanently purged from this realm, recovery is an inevitable and steady process. Your monstrous and ugly presence will certainly not be missed."

"You are a monster as much as I am, Witch-king," Sauron reminded him. "You are not loved, you are reviled and cursed. You have no friends, allies, family or servants. No one mourned your death or offered prayers for you. All your legacy will ever consist of is your disgraceful defeat at the hands of a Halfling and a daughter of Man. You will be remembered as a mere servant of mine. History will forever remember you as an undead abomination and in time, you will be forgotten about completely. Perhaps you will be a whispered story around a bonfire but nothing more."

The Witch-king screeched in blinding rage. His ear-shattering cry lasted a good ten seconds long and he didn't care even if all of Middle-Earth heard the ungodly raucous. The unmistakable call of the Nazgûl was something that could hardly be misidentified as another thing. He wished he was temporarily restored to his undead state and be granted his magical capabilities so he could deafen and drive the legions of Mordor's Orcs mad with terror and desperation with his scream.

A mere few seconds after he had fallen silent, he felt the approach of the remaining Nazgûl. He had felt their stirring when they had sensed Sauron's agitation and anger but now they felt their former leader's presence. In the distance, he could hear the beating of the fell beasts' wings as they mounted their draconian creatures and flew to the Eye's unmoving position.

"Release the others from your power, Sauron," the Witch-king demanded. "My only release was death! They do not deserve to exist any longer like this! Would you please spare your servants some pity?!"

"They are mine," Sauron refused. "Even if I did accept your asinine request, they would have nowhere to go or nothing to do other than to serve me. They have served me so long that I am all they know. They are nothing more than mindless drones like you once were, my once devoted and powerful servant. They have no one to return to. The kingdoms of Men would not accept them into their ranks because they fear and hate them. I give them purpose!"

"It is better to have a free mind and soul! It is better to have no purpose than to be enslaved to your will for many more millennia and have no memory of your former existence! They will die under your influence as I have!"

"Then they will die as I see appropriate and at my command if I deem it! What do you care of that soulless lot anyway? They do not miss you and they have accepted your demise. Your humanization is most troubling and disgusting… I thought that perhaps maybe I could have you join me once again but you have softened in such ways that I could not even conceive. I do not ever wish for you to serve me again. And do not try to hide it any longer from me for I feel something stirring within you."

Instantly, his defenses bristles and he tensed up. He snarled at Sauron to put on a threatening and seemingly invulnerable display for him.

"The only stirring you sense is the terrible fury I am trying my hardest to restrain because I cannot do anything to an accursed, giant, flaming eyeball!" the darkly clothed ghost spat.

"There's more than that," Sauron pressed. "There's something about your whole aura that seems different. Of course I can see and feel the violent anger you're experiencing but you also seem lighter."

His thoughts had turned to the maiden who had captured his affections and attention. By doing this, he knew the Dark Lord would peer into his innermost thoughts but he couldn't prevent it from happening. The Witch-king imagined Ếowyn still sleeping peacefully in her bed in Minas Tirith as he had left her. She was safe and sound there and he should've remained by her side. If he had not departed to confront Sauron, she would not risk being exposed further to him.

"No!" he blurted. "There's nothing different other than the fact I have been freed and I yearn to see you destroyed more than anything else! It is none of your concern either way!"

"Oh, is that so?" the greater of the two evils wondered out loud. "I do believe you are lying to me. I've peeked into your petty, little head and I saw the so called 'man' who killed you. You're trying to protect her from my sight. You don't want me to see her because you fear what I can do to her and make your existence even more miserable."

The high-pitched shrieks of the other eight Nazgûl rang loud and clear through the sulfur-infused air. The Witch-king turned his head from left to right, seeing the black clad Wraiths circling around him. They stilled their fell beasts in mid flight, making them hover in the air. He disregarded their presence and refocused his attention on Sauron. What mattered to him most was preserving the princess. There was no way he was going to allow him to send a lowly minion to lay a finger on her or glare at her malevolently from Mordor. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he could actually protect Ếowyn physically from any malevolent intent due to his status as a spirit but he was certainly willing to step up and fulfill the task especially if she was going to be at risk.

"You leave her out of this, Sauron," the Witch-king warned. He exhaled, hissing and sounding much like a cranky snake that was rudely disturbed. "She has already suffered enough and you have no business with her."

The reply that he had received was a loud, deep laugh. It reverberated so loudly that it seemed as if the fortress below was trembling and quaking from its magnitude. The Witch-king did not sway during this and refused to show any signs of weakness. At this point it was obvious he knew about his feelings towards Ếowyn and there was no reason to try to conceal it any longer. It would be hopeless to try to convince him otherwise now. But what he could do was protect her as he had been doing.

"I will not hide the fact from you no longer…" he said quietly. "I have fallen in love with her. She does not know I am safeguarding her but I do not mind that at all. In fact, I would prefer her to not know. Despite that, I will not yield her safety to you and I will do all in my power to make sure that she is secure and content."

"You have fallen in love with your murderer," Sauron deduced. "Whatever has become of you, Witch-king of Angmar? Has death driven you insane and led you astray from me and my guidance so quickly and dramatically already?"

"She made me see the light and truth of your machinations. She freed me from you! Her deed of slaying me had been the single most kindest and merciful thing anyone had done for me in my life as a damned and hated undead creature. You kept me chained up for thousands of years and now that my mind has been freed and my humanity has been rediscovered, that is all I could ever ask for at this point. Sauron, I highly advise you once more to free these poor Nazgûl and the other unfortunate souls you have enslaved or they will all perish. Your defeat is inevitable and it is only a matter of time that you will be overthrown."

The former Nazgûl leader once again gazed upon the remainders. Their invisible and unsettling eyes stared incessantly at him while they still sat astride their winged mounts. Their fell beasts roared and snarled as they started to become impatient with hovering in one position in the air for so long. One quick and sharp tug on their reins reminded the creatures of who was exactly in control and they rumbled quietly beneath their masters.

"We do not wish to be freed!" A single Ringwraith shouted. The Witch-king locked his attention on the servant of darkness, seeing that it was Khamûl that had spoken. "How dare you blaspheme and slander our one, true lord and master! If you will not rejoin us, I command you to leave! You have no place amongst us now that you have changed so much… And you ought to heed me, traitor, since I am now the leader of the Nazgûl with your death."

The Witch-king pitied his brothers. Though the others had not voiced their own opinions he had a good idea what their collective mindset was about him and his presence there. Sadly, he had seen that in order for them to be freed, they would have to be killed as he had been. Sauron was too cruel and greedy to release them and allow them to have their humanity granted back to them. His words meant nothing to him and the Nazgûl were firmly under the Dark Lord's control with no hope of escape.

"Well said, my loyal and devoted servant," Sauron said in a pleased voice. "You see, Witch-king, your efforts are all but null in the end. You've only succeeded in showing just how weak you've become. You needn't worry about the princess you fell in love with either… In time, my armies will reach Minas Tirith and they will engulf the world entirely. She will die soon enough. Now be gone, I am growing quite weary of your presence and your preachy words."

He knew Sauron spoke the truth about that. His words would only be a wasted effort if he tried to speak with him further. There was no point in remaining in such hostile company any longer. There was no reason there other than evil intent and desires.

The beating of the fell beasts' wings had provided him with the gusts of wind and the swift passage he needed to return to the White City. Without saying another word, his form evaporated and he departed to the west.

(…)

She was in the exact same position as he left her when he left. It appeared that she had not stirred at all during her slumber. Her eyelids were tightly shut and she looked serene and content. Ếowyn slept as if she was ignorant of the brooding evil in Mordor and the strange specter that had attached to her side.

Her odd guardian seated himself at the foot of her bed, taking care to sit down gently to not inform of her presence. He had realized he had the power to make himself noticeable to the living if he desired it but he did not want her to know of his attendance. The Witch-king was not entirely comfortable with making his presence known to her considering he knew exactly what she thought about him.

With a silent turn of his head, he looked over her again to see if she was alright once again. He felt her stir a little under her covers and then subside. The threats of Sauron were still on his mind but he was confident that the forces of Men would not go down without a long, bloody and assault against the hordes of Mordor. A small part of him felt insecure and anxious about the looming battle and he feared the possibility of Ếowyn being captured or killed. Sauron knew about her and his attachment to her now.

"Please make haste, Hobbits…wherever you are," he pleaded. "If I had been freed from Sauron earlier and had not been slain, I believe I would've aided you in your quest but I cannot do much for you now. Far too many lives are on the line for you to slow down or have doubts in yourself. I know you are in Mordor but I beg you, hurry! You have come so far and endured so much…why not press on and give it everything you have?!"