Warning: Umm, character death inside? And this won't be light and fluffy like the other chapters.

Chapter 9: Everything goes to hell

Annabeth Bell claimed to have read all the works of Prof. Tolkien that can be there and was proud of the fact that she wasn't one of those lower life-forms that claimed to be fans of Middle-Earth by just seeing those fanfiction adaptations of a certain director.

As a result, when she ultimately landed in ME, she was perfectly sure of her location, very much like the fellow travelers to the alternate dimension, which quite baffles the scribe of this tale as she (the scribe, that is) would be lost with even ten maps in hand, let alone none.

So, Annabeth, with her abundant knowledge calculated that she couldn't be anywhere else but the Gap of Rohan.

Now, even if anyone had discerned the location, they would turn to any road other than the North-west.

But she didn't. Eru knows what gave her the idea that she would be able to change the mind of a certain Rainbow Wizard, but anyway, she made her way towards Isengard.

And for that interference from a foolish mortal who thought she had it in herself to change the fate of a world she never belonged to, we are in our current predicament.

Oh no, don't get me wrong, she did change the fate of the world, but in a way no one dreaded even to think. No one except Sauron.

This is what happened.

Saruman was the one who had breached the fabrics of space and time to bring her to this world. He knew she would come to him, for he had excelled in the matters of Elves and Men always and their hearts held no secrets that he wouldn't know.

Living a sheltered life, she thought that she would be unaffected by the ministrations of the one who was deemed one of the Brightest even among the Wise. Though she was stronger than we give her the credit for, she did resist the honeyed tongue of the wizard.

Nonetheless, she had nothing else to do but open her mind to him when her fingernails were plucked and skin avulsed, all the while being hung upside-down over a pit of fire.

She didn't live long after the vile wizard had extracted what he needed to know.

What followed was the darkest part in the history of our world.

It started with The Shire. The picturesque village was attacked in the middle of the night, burnt down to ashes, the people not even knowing what hit them as they breathed their last.

Bilbo Baggins and his cousin young Frodo were captured and taken to the lair of the once White Wizard and their screams of pain could be heard all over the Fangorn, until they were silenced.

The One Ring was swiftly delivered to its one and only wielder.

The Three Elven kingdoms were attacked simultaneously.

Lórien fell first. Nenya was cut off from the hands of The Lady of the Light, her husband fell while protecting her. She herself could not be saved from the mortal wounds she received. Only a handful of elves managed to flee. Rest were taken as captives.

Imladris fared none better. The Lord of the Valley, his seneschal and one of his twin sons were among the few that escaped to wilderness. The Evenstar was taken to the depths of Mordor, so was Vilya. Once again, a hidden valley burned, but this time, there was no salvation for the survivors.

But, our land was the one that took the worst of it all. Attacked from two sides, Dol Guldur and Gundabad, we didn't really stand a chance. Our King allied with the Naugrim, we fought, fought against all hopes, but what can become of the army who had to witness their King being decapitated and his head being hung from the ramparts? Their only prince being torn limb by limb by Mordor beasts?

The Men had even little hope. Théoden King, newly crowned, led the charge against the combined army of orcs and goblins. Rohan lost.

So did Gondor.

And last but not the least, Saruman was slain. For a traitor was never to be trusted, Sauron was aware of that much at least.

And now we, the Last Rebellion of The Free People of Middle-Earth, wait, under the command of a ruthless, one-handed Ranger who would have become the King in the future.

We wait for the help to come from beyond the shores. We will be heading off to one last battle, one last time.

And this time, the Valar will be aiding us to rout the evil that is slowly crushing the heart of Arda.

I was instructed to write this account to warn the future generation to not meddle in the matters of the past.

We have very little hope left, but, still we hope, that by reading this, the people in the future would be compassionate enough to give us the world that was to be.

Maybe, without the interference from them, the past can be changed.

We hear the clear horns of the Blessed Realms.

Time to march.

Signing off,

Lady Merenil, former Queen of Greenwood the Great.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

A/N: Well that's it. My heart shattered while writing that.

I edited the last chapter a bit; you may want to read it again.

Thanks to those who reviewed, followed and/or favourited:

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You can flame me in this chapter as much as you want.

Thanks for reading.