Answers to Reviews:

Auguruj: Ha, my job is to torture both of you, and you guys have had it reasonably easy so far in terms of shizz happening...so it was about time I changed that muhahaha. You'll just have to read on and find out, and hope for whichever outcome you think would be best for all parties involved :P I really shouldn't give that away...but nah, Thrandy's faithful steed won't die. Even I'm not that mean! Time to see whether or not you were wrong about Fenna and her fate! Have fun muhahaha.

Lenna Archfire: Aww thank you! It's taken a lot of time to gather everything needed to make this story what it is, and to be honest I'm still learning more every time I pick Tolkien's books up and read them again...but that's half the fun of it! And as for the amount of care I put in...well, I'm an all or nothing kind of girl, so it was only natural I went full on with this :D Ha, yes! Glad someone noticed my little reference...when I was thinking of how to do that scene that line came to mind and I just had to do it as it was too perfect an opportunity to miss, both for me and Fenna. A fair few things made me choose to write this story...I think I decided to do it after watching the second Hobbit movie and seeing just how gorgeous Thrandy was portrayed in it (that's how most of my fanfics start...seeing a gorgeously portrayed character and being like 'right, need to write about them so I can get all my feels out and in to a place where I can relive them over and over again). I also wanted to do it because I feel, both in the book and the movie, that he was very under-explored, and I wanted to really give him a reason to do the things he did. I wanted to make him a three dimensional, main character instead of one who's on the sidelines with so much unexplored potential. I also have a soft spot for tragic bois who pretend they're all ok on the surface lol.

Aigo Snape: Your fear is rightly placed. Have fun!


Me: Just a quick check in guys! Hope you're all doing ok with all this virus stuff going around, and all your loved ones are safe and sound.

Thranduil: *sat in the middle of a circle of designer antibacterial soap* Alo Vera, or Vanilla extract?

Me: Oh man just pick one and go! We're only allowed out for essential things!

Thranduil: But this is essential! I can't have the wrong soap!

Me: There's no such thing as wrong soap with this virus! Any and all work!

Thranduil: There is! I know the Dwarves have one of these, but I can't remember which one it was...

Me: Oh for crying out loud...right, I'm going to leave Mr. picky over there, and let you guys get on with reading the chapter. It's another cracker...please don't hate me after it :D

Thranduil *in the distance* Ooooh, Jasmine and Mango!


A/N: Hey guys, a little warning for you all. This chapter has a fair amount of blood and gore in it, so if you're a tad squeamish please read with care!


62: Precipice

I knew it. "So you're a thief now as well as a snitch, murderer, and organiser of countless other horrors, hmm?" were the words I finally squeezed past the terror and…other things that had settled in my chest at the sight of that simple-looking band of gold. Such a small thing, to be so hard fought over…such a little thing to hold so much sway and power over this world.

Damien's satisfied expression didn't waver. "It seemed an appropriate title to add to the ones I already had, yes," he replied, turning the Ring this way and that…and I couldn't help but admire the-

No, I snapped to myself, shifting my weight on to the balls of my feet. Can't be thinking like that. Can't let it get to you. The whispers of the One Ring, still faint against the barrier that surrounded my mind, were strangely quiescent, their words soft, gentle…well, what few I could make out over the pounding of my heart, anyway. Perhaps because it was finally in the hands of the most easily manipulated race in all of Middle-earth, and had a chance to return to its one true master.

"Perhaps you're wondering why I've not put it on yet," Damien continued, taking a slow, swaggering step towards me and smiling again as I flinched away, swords rising up between us. I gave a sharp shrug.

"Well, of all the things I learnt from you and from my own readings, the fact that this Ring's control over someone becomes all the greater when worn was something that always stuck with me…so I thought it best to leave wearing it. At least until I've dealt with you…then I'll be free to do as I wish."

"You know that thing will just drag you under its spell once you…if you put it on? No-one but Sauron can wield it and not be driven mad with power by it," I said, acutely aware of the walls around me, the floor beneath my feet and the dampness of the breath that left my lips. It was getting close now. So very close.

"Ahh, but no-one like us has ever laid a finger on it, much less put it on," Damien mused, resting the Ring in the palm of his hand and for a moment seeming to lose himself as he stared at it. "You can hear it, can't you? The whispering? Hear how…quiet it is, feel how helpless it is to get through whatever it is keeping magic from affecting us? If it's like that now…then what's to say it'll be any different when I put it on? No, this Ring will answer to a new master soon enough…but first…" Damien trailed off, slipping the Ring into an unseen pocket at his side before turning to me again. I tensed.

Closer.

"First I'll have to deal with you. I do wish I could keep you alive, long enough for you to see everything you've ever cared about here be put to the flames and the torture wheels…but sadly, you're getting in the way as of late has become too much of a problem to be ignored. That, and I still owe you one for that arrow your Elf friends fired through my hand."

And just like that he was on me, blade nearly piercing my side before I could deflect it.

Snapping back I just managed to sweep the blow aside with my left sword, bending in such a way as to make any gymnast jealous as I curved away from Damien. Everything narrowed around me, narrowed along the edge of my blades and the press of my feet into the ground – the only two things that would be keeping me safe.

"Your time with the Elves…really hasn't gone to waste, I see," Damien grunted as he lunged after me, blade deflecting one of mine and the barrier around him springing to life to deflect the one I followed through with. Still there…fuck.

The sound of our blades rattled off of the ancient stone around us, jarring the silence out of place and sending it running for the hills as we fought down hallway after hallway. Sparks flew where metal crashed against metal, blood flowing along the edges as wounds began to appear on my body. A small cut here. A gash along the unprotected sliver down my side.

Damien was relentless, no defense anywhere to be seen as he hammered blow after blow in my direction. He didn't have to worry about it, though. Not with that damned shield.

Ducking and nearly tripping as Damien swung out a leg, I let out a cry of pain as his blade slammed into my right arm, jarring the only just healed shoulder. There was a flash of a smile as another blow tried to follow, barely avoided as I skipped backwards and rounded a corner.

"Come on, Fenna, don't be a coward!" Damien called as I backed away, shifting my blood from his blade with a flick of his wrist. I let out a hiss, not trusting myself to speak as pain radiated up my right arm.

Damn it, I thought, clenching my fingers around the hilt of my sword and fighting not to whimper. Thought it had healed better than that…fucking dragon had to go and do damage to me in the worst place possible.

My breather was minute. Before I could even roll my shoulders again Damien was upon me, sword flashing towards my throat only to be caught between my own. His smile slipped as I twisted, turned and hauled with all my might, forcing his back and the wall to become fast friends. I was careful to keep my swords outside of where I guessed his barrier to be, shifting until I could bring all my weight to bear from where I stood. Damien grunted, pushing back against me, but Orcs had never been as strong or swift as Elves, never able to compare one on one, so there was no way he was going to win against me by sheer force-

I jumped, blades clanging away from Damien's as his leg came lashing out towards my own. Dirty tricks as always, I thought, swaying aside from the blow that followed the tricky assault. Nothing was being held back here…and nothing could be. Both of us knew that, if either of us wanted to win, then we'd have to kill the other…and there was no loophole I could find to get through that damned barrier!

With each slash of his sword, each cut he inflicted upon me, Damien was gaining the upper hand. My breaths were still steady, still strong, but hitched every now and again as yet another line of pain was drawn across my body. Step by step I was forced backwards, towards where cold air was rushing into an already frozen ruin. I couldn't slip up now. Couldn't afford to.

As if hearing my thoughts I was suddenly shoved outside by a shoulder push from Damien. In an instant I was slip-sliding backwards, armour ringing and helmet flying from my head as I hit the ground and found cloudy sky above me.

Fire lanced through my right hand. A scream dragged itself from my throat, tearing the air in two with a plume of white pain.

"You're not the one who did it, but like I said, I still owe you for it, seeing as he's your friend. Payback's a bitch, huh?" Damien huffed as he stood above me, blade embedded in my palm.

"That's…karma…you idiot," I managed to snarl between breaths sharpened by shock and the agony radiating from my hand. My other wounds, dampened down by the adrenaline I'd been running on for god knew how long, began to throb. "And…speaking of karma…might want to look up." The black armoured figure above me frowned, confused, but before he could ask what the hell I meant there was a screech of rage. A shadow stooped low over us, wind howling down after it and sending Damien diving for the cover of the corridor.

Fucking hell…bloody huge…I managed to think through the haze of pain clouding my mind. The eagles, heralded by Bilbo, were out in full force. I couldn't see far, what with being pinned to the ice and stone by a sword, but I caught glimpses of the great birds swooping down from the sky, screaming their anger for all to hear as they hauled enemy after enemy back up with them.

Gritting my teeth, and turning my eyes from the battle that raged far below the ruined precipice of Ravenhill I'd been forced out on to, I grabbed the blade pinning me down and yanked up as hard as I could. Again, white fire burnt through my hand and arm, and it was all I could do not to pass out and let Damien finish me off there and then.

Not…yet…I huffed, barely taking a moment before I was rolling to my feet, swiping my own discarded blades from where they'd fallen.

A shadow flitted in the corner of my eye, and I spun to face it, catching Damien before he could move more than a foot. A smile pulled its way on to my lips, and before the grey eyed bastard could do anything I'd switched his blade to my left hand and thrown it backwards as hard as I could…right over the broken edge I'd glimpsed.

"Oops…guess all that blood you've drawn from me is making my hands slippery," I said nonchalantly, though my heart was kicking back up a notch. This fight wasn't over with just yet. I had to get the Ring off of him. It wasn't his. Wasn't his at all.

With a snarl of rage Damien leapt at me, my blades being batted aside by that blasted barrier. I might have had the advantage with weapons, but what use were they when they couldn't get anywhere close to their target?

Soon enough the blood that slicked my right hand became too much, the pain numbing my nerves until-

Shit shit SHIT! I thought as I found myself caught, one blade still my own but the other…well, it was what I'd have done. Of course, Damien had been gunning for one or both of my blades the moment I'd tossed his over the edge. I gritted my teeth and tried, tried, tried to keep hold of the hilt of my right blade, desperately ignoring the pain and the cries of my wound-numbed fingers – let go, let go, let go!

"Come on, Fen, you want to settle this fairly, don't you? Let me have that blade and we can have a proper fight," Damien grinned, though behind his smugness there was an edge. Thought I'd give up sooner than this…tough luck, hun.

"Fair? Fair?" I spat, digging my heels in as I was dragged closer and closer by my trapped blade. "Don't you even speak the word 'fair' until you get rid of that fucking barrier around…you." My words trailed off as I realised something. Something that shouldn't have been happening.

The blade in my right hand, the one that Damien was trying to steal, wasn't far from him. No, it was in his hand, right at his side…and he hadn't reached out and snatched it as I'd swung. No, he'd waited until I'd made a clumsy strike and…grabbed the blade as it had swung past his chest by an inch. But…his barrier…it's at least a foot wide around him…then why-

Finally my poor right hand gave up the ghost. All the feeling left it, and before I could do anything else Damien had yanked it from my grasp and shouldered me backwards.

Cursing everything I could think of, wounds throbbing with a fire that could have rivalled Smaug's, I staggered, slipped, righted myself and waited. Here we go again…but what the hell happened there? My blade got through his barrier…no, must have been a trick of the angle, or blood loss…wait…blood…?

I stared at my other sword, now resting in Damien's hand as he waited for me to make a move, taunting me with his uninjured, unmarred self. Where I'd been gripping it so tightly, and where I'd had my hand stabbed clean through, my blood had pooled down my fingers and slid down on to the blade – the only blood coating it since Damien had that barrier to protect his precious little self. Rivulets of crimson criss-crossed the metal, slicking the cutting edge and dripping from the tip….which had been the first thing to enter where Damien's barrier should have been.

Something clicked in my mind.

"Finally cracked, huh? About time after everything I've been doing to you and your friends," my opponent snorted as I, lifting my remaining sword, dragged my bloodied right hand over the surface of the metal, leaving behind an ugly coat of red that sunk into the flame-like patterns along the flat of the blade. Not quite sure if this will work as before, I thought, admiring my handiwork for the barest moment. But it's sure as hell worth a try. That Ring isn't his. Not his. Not HIS!

A war cry tore from my lips as I lunged into action again, near useless right hand tucked behind my back like one of the duellists of old. Have to get close…have to try…!

Damien was swift to parry my strike, adapting to the balance of his new blade quick as blinking. Once more the clang of steel rang through the ruins of Ravenhill as the two of us strived to get the upper hand. Damien might have managed to cut me up pretty badly…but there was a fire burning in my chest and at my neck that wasn't going out any time soon. He wasn't going to kill anyone else today. Not Aeolus. Not Legolas or Thranduil. Not me.

"Come on you bastard, stop hiding behind that shield of yours and fight me like a real man!" I snarled as we broke apart again, our breath pluming like dragon smoke into the morning air. Good…he's getting tired…but so am I…vision starting to swim…ngh, damn it!

Damien grinned wickedly, opening his arms in a shrug. "You know I can't do that, Fenna. I don't have the ability to take it down…even if I wanted to, that is. You'll-!" Before he could finish I was in motion, whirling into a movement Thranduil had only recently taught me. Be light…be water, be air…be the willow that bends around the wind or the blade. Sway left, right, left, right and strike!

My sword was whistling towards Damien before he'd even registered where I was striking from…but it didn't matter that he wasn't fast enough to properly block my blow, because there was that foul black barrier swirling around him, sending my sword-

With a flicker and ripple the barrier went out, and like fire through butter my blade sliced through the air and Damien's black armour, cleaving through the flesh below and sending my enemy howling away from me, blood spraying like a fountain into the air.

Well there we go…seems my near immunity to magic is in every part of me…blood included, I thought as Damien staggered and fell to his knees in surprise, right hand fluttering to his chest and the crimson river now flowing between the slice in his armour. And here…(closer…come…take)…I was thinking it was nothing but a hindrance.

"What…how..?" Damien sputtered, grey eyes wide as they turned to me, following the flick of my blade as I sent drops of his blood spattering over the ice and stone.

"There's always been a method to my madness, you bastard," I said with a mirror image of his earlier grin before spinning forwards once again. No cliché explanations for (take…reach out) me.

Quick as he could Damien was on his feet and fighting back…but there was an edge to his movements now. Sharp, cautious, no flourishes of his blade as he tried to defend himself. This time, he was the one who couldn't afford to make a mistake (so close…come…), whereas I now had nothing to lose. I could do what I wanted – a little cut here, a nick behind the knee there – but he, so unused to defending himself and fearing for his life, could only step backwards or shrink away from my onslaught. Or so I wanted to think.

In reality…well…my body was becoming a catalogue of wounds, of bruises and nicks and slices that painted my skin red and stained my beautiful armour redder than the fires of Orodruin (side pocket…all you have to do…reach). Of course Damien was being hurt now as well, the blood from his own wounds only adding to the coat now covering my sword and making his barrier even more ineffective…but it was slow work. We were both well matched. We knew all the tricks...knew how the other would act thanks to those years spent in 'friendship' (take me…can help you win…)-

I saw the blow coming from miles away…saw the hole I'd left in the defences along my left side as whispers distracted my mind (so close…just reach towards me). It was a perfectly executed downwards stab, the blade whipped around Damien's right hand before spearing towards my heart. My own sword was sluggish to respond, stuck in the treacle thickness of the fatigue that surrounded me. So slow…ponderous…

Years could have passed before time remembered us, remembered the battle coming to an end far below, remembered that it couldn't pause and watch as two anomalies fought to become the only one existing here in this impossible world.

Sparks flew from out blades as they met in mid-air. Damien grunted as my sword smashed up into his, pushing his own back, fighting to keep it away from me as I forced him towards the broken edge of Ravenhill. We pushed, shoved, twisted and turned until our blades were locked, one caught in the midst of slicing down and the other snared pressing up, up, up on the other in a desperate bid to keep my heart safe (I can…safe…all you need…me…precious).

Why does…everything always end…with me locking blades with someone? I questioned as I leaned into my blade, pressing every screaming muscle against the fate that waited at the tip of Damien's blade. He pushed back, gained an inch, lost it, regained it and lost it again…but it was only a matter of time. I couldn't use both hands, as he could, unless I wanted my grip to slip and my fight have been for nothing. All I could do was cross my right wrist over my left and hope, pray that my training would (no need for training…I am…) see me through to the end that I wanted…no, needed to happen…but now my left arm was beginning to give out, shaking and trembling as pain flared across my shoulder. No…damn it! That bastard Dagalion…stabbed me…FUCK IT!

"Seems your near death…wasn't such a failure…after all," Damien grunted, a smile slicing across his lips as he gained an inch, and another, and another, until the tip of his blade was scraping down the armour over my chest. I hissed, shoving back and for a moment gaining some of my lost ground. No use though…he'd get it back…Can't…hold much longer…can't move out of the way…too close! (Reach for me…let me help you, poor child)

As if sensing my thoughts and the whispers that invaded them Damien's grin widened, and for a moment he left only one hand on his blade, not caring as I shoved and pushed and clawed back some of the space I'd lost. Of course he wouldn't. Why would he, when in the hand he'd moved, when he brought it out from his shredded cloak, was a band of softly glinting gold All you must do is reach out…take me from this man…not needed any more…

"Perhaps I'll put this on and let you go…see if you can defend yourself from someone you can't see," Damien mused, eyes flicking to the One Ring and a strange, witchfire-like light taking hold there. I let out a hissing scream, right hand twitching, itching to reach out. It was right there…right near me…so close…so bright.

"You…know what'll happen…idiot," I forced out, ignoring the blood that spattered my lips as I spoke as I added, "It's not yours, anyway…he'll see it when you put it on if you claim it…it's not yours." Then who's am I…I can be yours…all you need to do is take me from him and-

"Sauron certainly can't have it now that I've got it…the things I've done to get here…plans I've made, lies I've told…you know how hard it is to lie to one of the most powerful beings in all of Middle-Earth? No, you don't…and that's why this Ring will never be yours. Magic can't affect me…and the effects of the Ring are weaker for me…so why shouldn't I have it and use it? Why?" Damien rambled, the pressure of his blade becoming less and less as he fixated upon the One Ring. No…no! He can't….not his…not his to take! It's…mine…no…not his!

"I think it's time to see just how strong this Ring is…why put this opportunity to waste? Certainly a more interesting way to end you," Damien smiled, lifting the Ring high between his left thumb and middle finger.

No!...reach out and…NO!

His index finger twitched, moved, brushing along the edge of the golden band-

He can't…mine! Not his..it's mine to take! I felt the blade twist in my hand, felt it give, felt it wobble right as my left shoulder finally gave in to the fiery pain raging over it-

Not yours!-

I lifted my right hand, reaching, stretching out-

NOT YOURS!

-and allowed my blade to slip back and away from Damien's. Something-

Mine!

-squealed, something wrenched across my chest and down into my stomach-

MINE!

-just as my hand closed around Damien's fingers and the One Ring clasped between them I am yours…take me…

Damien's eyes bulged in their sockets, the grin sliding from his lips as shock weighed it down. "N..no…!" His hand clenched within mine but I was too quick. Not this time. Not any time. Not his. Never.

"Fuck…you, you bastard!" I hissed, digging my fingers into his until something smooth brushed over them, shoving aside the pain in my chest as it whispered to me. Let him go…no need of him anymore…

A wordless, animal cry left Damien's lips as I tore my hand from his, the glimmer of gold quickly hidden by my blood slicked fingers. He scrabbled after me, lunging forwards and on to something bright, uncaring of what he was doing to himself. It was no use now, though. End him…let him go…send him away from us…

"Mine!"

I snorted, twisting my left hand and dragging it towards me, enjoying the panic and pain fleeing across Damien's battered face as I pulled him close enough that our noses almost touched.

"Not anymore," I smiled before, with one final twist of my blade, lifting my right leg and kicking out as hard as I could. The world paused for another moment, then, watching as two arcs of blood sprayed into the air, as a pair of grey eyes at last lost their light, and as a black armoured body tumbled from the edge of a once great watchtower, the blade he'd stolen from me still gripped in his hand. Pain throbbed through my chest as I watched Damien's body fall out of sight, and something flickered in the back of my mind and at my throat. Something wasn't right…or was it? No…everything was fine now…I had it…at last, I have it…it's mine…

Bloodied blade hanging low in my left hand, I turned away from the red stained edge of Ravenhill, eyes drawn to my clenched right hand as the carrion birds were drawn to the corpse littered ground far below me. A heartbeat seemed to pulse within my fingers, warm, promising, welcoming of all the weary thoughts dragging along the floors of my mind. All is well now…it seemed to say as I opened my hand and revealed the golden band sat there, untouched by the blood oozing from my wound. Do not fret…I am here…I can help…nothing to fear…

Nothing…to fear…no death…no pain…life will be fine…precious life…precious…I thought back, turning my hand this way and that, admiring the sun-like sheen of the metal. So pretty, so bright, so precious….Precious…no…can't…but why not? I have it here…no-one knows I'm here…or what I have…

I rolled the One Ring up into my fingers, ignoring the burning around my neck as I held it up to the light. It was such a small thing, to be worth so much, to be so powerful…and yet I could feel it. The power within it…it was like the thrum of a dark night, beckoning me out to where the stars didn't shine and the moon couldn't see…like promise made a physical thing. I could do everything I'd ever wanted…could have everything I'd ever wanted…but that wasn't right was it? Nothing like that was ever possible…and yet that was what it told me. It will all be yours…just place me on your finger…claim me as your own…all will bow before you…but will they? Should I not-NO. I am yours! Nothing will stand against you!

"Nothing…" I muttered, the pain in my chest dulling the longer I stared at the Ring. Could it be? There is only one way to see…

Slowly, the fire at my neck growing and yet fading at the same time, I turned the ring up and around, holding it between my thumb and middle finger.

The fire flared and faded brighter and softer.

My index finger twitched, brushing along the edge of the golden band and marvelling as it shrunk beneath my touch, shrunk until it was the right size for me to-

Fire flared white, brighter, died down against the shadows of my thoughts-

Put it on. Eyes fixed, I moved my finger and gently, slowly, carefully lowered the ring over my battered and bloodied nail, down over my knuckle until-

White fire burst across my vision-

NO!

-it stopped, unable to go any further because in it's path lay…a bright, shining ring, it's endless weave of mithril curled snugly about my finger. What-

TAKE ME! TAKE M-

-Oh.

I blinked. And again. Oh…shit-!

Down died the fire as my thoughts burst back to life, piercing through the shadows that had surrounded my mind without me even noticing. Down it died until it was back within the moonstone at my neck, shining bright and warm and oh so comfortingly close as I stared at the One Ring in my hand. Shock punched me in the stomach, sending the agony of horror blossoming out from my chest and down each and every limb. Without thinking I scrambled back, tripping and tumbling until my back was against a wall and I was able to hold the One Ring as far away from me as possible…was able to find something to support me as darkness battered against the outside of my mind.

S-shit! Did I…I nearly did…fuck…fuck fuck fuck! My breaths were short and sharp as I stared at the golden band I was now holding between the tips of my fingers, away from the ring Thranduil had given me, away from the place where it would send me down to my doom as surely as a fall from this height would.

What felt like hours passed as I froze myself in place, not knowing what to do.

Here I was, standing alone in the ruins of a Dwarven watch tower, holding an object that had the power to put the world into a shadow that even the Valar would struggle to shift. Here I was, almost doing the one thing I'd promised myself not to do…Dear Eru…I nearly made Damien's death not worth a thing…shit I killed him!? The memory flashed back to me, the blades slicing over each other and into flesh, the twist of my hand, the kick and the body I'd sent flying with it…the blades…

My left hand, sword still clasped loosely in it, drifted upwards, across my body and to the spot just below my sternum. The rough edges of sliced-through armour met my touch…and my hand came away covered in red-black blood. Oh…damn.

A sigh left my lips, and all of a sudden I was tired. Tired of the chill mountain air. Tired of the screeches of the giant eagles and the fading cries of battle. Tired of the Ring held tightly in my hand and the weight it was becoming. My vision dimmed, shadowed as I closed my eyes for a breath, two, three…No..can't stay here…not even supposed to be here…Ring…Bilbo…

Forcing my eyes open, I took one last shuddering breath, one last ounce of strength from the wall behind me, before pushing up and away. Time to…move. He'll wake up soon…

I'd never realised how hard it was to put one foot in front of the other until then; how much dexterity, thought, process was required to simply move one leg, then the other, and then the other again, to drag my feet forwards and away from my support. Each movement was suddenly a marathon, each pace an earthquake that set the crevices of my wounds grating against my nerves. But I had to do it. I couldn't let myself slip up again…couldn't let the thoughts on the other side of my mind take over again…Don't want my…moonstone to flare up so much that it breaks…what would Galadriel…say if I broke her….her gift to me?

Stone and ice swam before my eyes as I step by stepped my way into the corridor, along it and down into another, left hand holding on to my chest and my blade for dear life…couldn't let my guard down. Who knew if Damien had somehow survived that fall, had called for backup and was even now racing up the steps to finish what he'd started. Hah…I thought, spitting out the blood that was beginning to pool in my mouth, that'd be fantastic…would be just my luck…he comes for me then I'll just…just throw it out the window…myself along with it…

My thoughts went black for a moment…and suddenly I was in front of Bilbo, the pain wracking my body making it hard to bend over…making it hard to let go of the Ring…so bright…No…it isn't mine to keep. The…the story m-must go on…

It was a funny thing, to watch Bilbo turn invisible as I put the Ring on his finger…a funny thing how light I suddenly felt, how…how free? Yes, that was the word…the shadows fled from around my mind, the weight left my hand, and I was free, free, free as the eagles that flew overhead…

Need…need to go see them…need to see if it's done…I've done my part but…but have they done theirs? Once more I started forwards, thoughts gliding away from that…thing behind me. No more would I have to do with it ever again. It wasn't mine, and never would I take it if offered. I'd had my chance, and thrown it away as hard as I could. No need to go back and try to find it, eh?

Back the way I'd come I went, back into the gloom of Ravenhill…but only for a moment. I'd seen some stairs to my left when I'd first arrived…ahh, there they were. Light filtered down from above…and though it was meagre, and though the climb was long, and though the blood and the pain in my chest grew and grew with every upwards lift of my legs and every breath I took…I was going to get to the top. I had to see. Had to know.

Here…here we go, I sighed, nearly bent double as at last I staggered up the last step. It was surprisingly intact up here, on the roof of the lookout. Sure, some of the surrounding wall had fallen away, and there was ice and snow everywhere…but it was stable. It was whole…and I could see.

Below me, as I forced myself as near to the edge as I could, lay a field of gore. Once desolate brown land was now covered with corpses piled high, the blood that drained from them pooling like a terrible lake beneath their broken, battered bodies. The edges of their shredded armour glinted in the rising light, their shattered blades and bows and spears scattered like thorns fallen from a dying rose. Crows, ravens, carrion birds of all kinds swooped low over the battlefield, ducking below their larger eagle brethren as they stooped to tear shreds of flesh away, uncaring of the small skirmishes still raging around them…but there was still life down there. Still movement.

Squat, short figures barrelled over open land on their horned goats and on foot, chasing packs of orcs towards a wall of Elven bowmen, humans hacking and slashing at any that strayed from their forced path. The eagles themselves were still diving, still swooping low over my head and calling out their victory. A bear, giant in size and brimming with anger, rampaged through the remaining enemies, untouched by their weapons. And far in the distance, pale hair trailing like a banner behind him as his mount galloped beneath him…I smiled, blood dripping down my chin. Good….still alive…

My feet wobbled...They survived…and I…replaced the Ring…My body sagged, stooped, fell to the ground, blade clattering from my hands as I slumped to my knees, my side, my back, right hand pressing futilely over my chest …I'm…glad…everything's...as it...it should…my eyesight dimmed, cold sweeping over me as everything began to fade…should be…it's done. It's done. It's…done…


Me: *From heavily fortified bunker* Yooooo, you guys like that chapter? Because the next one's good as well...but you guys aren't allowed to have the Next Time section again, as it would again give too much awaaaaaaaayyy hahahaha!

Thranduil: *Hugging his stash of soap* You're in a rather mean mood, aren't you?

Me: Yes...that soap was the one the Dwarves bought by the way.

Thranduil: WHAT!?

Me: Yeah, they liked the smell of it too.

Thranduil: *Outraged* WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS IN THE SHOP!?

Me: Because I'm in a mean mood :) Have fun dear readers, and remember, wash yo hands and stay in doors until this all blows over. Stay safe!

Thranduil: THE DWARVES AND I HAVE SOMETHING IN COMMON!? NOOOOOOOOOO!

Me: *Rolls eyes* Drama King.