Chapter 23

Prince of the Dead

Author's Note: Well, hopefully I'll be able to update this story more consistently again. I'm hoping I can get another one out before the beginning of February as my new hubby and I will be moving from an apartment into a house. :) All the busy things! Anyway, please enjoy this slightly shorter chapter than most and stay tuned for the next one that will contain a shit-ton of Aragorn ^_^!

December 26th - Isengard - night

Daenith looked across the barren wasteland that once held an entire forrest to the tall tower of Isengard. Like the tower in Mordor, Isengard was tall, had a bulging building clearly used for general living and receptions, and a few windows crawling up to the top room. All around it great hulking beasts roared and groaned. Whips cracked, the beasts called wargs howled, and a general amount of rage could be heard throughout the land. It was impressive, but it wasn't an environment that the sorceress liked to live in.

We want their help in our war, so we help them lay waste to their world, she thought.

Beside her, Hades strode confidently surveying the jumble of stinking bodies. A smirk slipped onto his face as he turned to see his own army clamoring behind them. One of their generals, a sorceress of Hades' age, looked on in disgust. The expression must have been mirrored on Daenith's face because when Hades glanced at her a laugh erupted from him.

"Yes, it's quite terrible, isn't it? They're uncovering what are known as Urukai and are using the trees of Fangorn to forge weapons and armor for them . A great army will march with us across Rohan and destroy the land. While we march you will remain here until word reaches Saruman's ears that my little niece is close. When she is, you will find her and place my nephew's curse into her," he said then closed his eyes and shook his head. "Oh for the strange need for one's family! She is the remnant of Athena, his half-sister, and oh how he hated her."

Daenith raised a brow, nonverbally asking why such was the case. She hated not being able to speak. Her voice had always been her pride and joy. Not being able to use it in the most mundane of conversations was mortifying. Hades nodded to her and continued.

"Aries is the firstborn son of my brother, Zeus. He was born of Hera, my brother's wife and told since he was old enough to understand speech that he would be king. I don't know when Zeus began getting it into his head to bed other women, but his first dalliance was with a human woman and begot Perseus. Then there was the night he shared with Demeter, my younger sister and his elder, which begot my wife. He continued in that fashion until he met the one I've always assumed to be his mate, Metis. From Metis came Athena who was born with the mark. Aries always had a love-hate relationship with his younger sister. She was brilliant at tactics, strategy, and politics and I think he loved her for it at first. Then she left for many years, enabling us to kill Zeus and elevate Aries to the elven throne. She returned later and challenged him for the crown. Aries, Persephone and I fought her and she defeated us, but couldn't bring herself to kill us," Hades smiled and Daenith felt a shiver crawl up her spine at the sight. "It was most disappointing. I'd thought the one whom humans worshipped as the goddess of wisdom and war would have seen the benefits of killing her own family, but I suppose she couldn't stomach it. She locked us away for what is now seen to be our benefit than our punishment."

Daenith thought on that idea. Through the progression of this particular mission she saw the minds, of what she'd been told by both Nyx and Hecate, were the most brilliant of their kind. Hades, Persephone, and Aries were powerful conduits of magic and darkness, but whatever flare they'd once had was gone to be replaced with their most carnal desires. Hades wanted the royal line to be so soiled and broken that it would take a miracle to fix it. Aries wanted to rape the mind, body and soul of Athena. As his sister was dead, he made do with her great-granddaughter. Persephone wanted freedom of a sort, but seemed at a loss to how she would acquire it.

For many weeks, Daenith began to wonder if being stuck in hell was the punishment Athena had meant it to be, considering the end results before her. Hades had the ability to not only summon demons and Fallen from their prisons in Hell, but could also give them form. Aries was… basically a disgusting piece of filth bent on raping and killing everything in his path. Persephone, while an old shadow, was the only one of the three who'd retained any semblance of cunning and used it to her advantage.

She kept those thoughts to herself. If she allowed Hades to see a kernel of her heart's turning on display then her life would be forfeit. Any personal plans she thought to make in rebellion to their will would be for naught. A desire settled within her like never before. She not only wanted to defy her masters, but she wanted to stop their intent for the elven queen. The realization was slow in coming and left a strange taste in her mouth after she was finished thinking on it.

In the thousands of years of her life, Daenith had lived to dominate the men of England who'd locked her mother, Igraine, into a loveless marriage with King Gorlois of Cornwall. He'd beaten her, defiled her, and debased her at every turn. Igraine had been a sweet woman who'd loved a young male elf. While her father had never endeavored to become a knight elf, he'd been a vain creature who enjoyed the fact that a human woman loved him. He'd taken. Igraine and left her disgraced in her father's house only to be sold off to the only man who'd have her. When King Uther had come into the scene, Daenith had been old enough for humans to consider her an adult at the time. Igraine, being part high fae, was still young in appearance though she was far older than the young woman of eight and twenty depicted in the legends. Uther of Albion was young, cocky, and bold. He'd seen Igraine - a picture of ethereal beauty and elegance - and wanted her as if she was some prized mare.

Daenith's hatred for men had settled around that time and she'd promptly left her mother's house after the wedding and traveled to the stronghold of Morgause, her eldest half-sister from Gorlois. In her presence, she'd begun her journey as an acolyte of The Morrighan and quickly rose to a position of prominence among her coven sisters. Morgause and Morgana were at her side the entire way while Elayne rejected them and chose the love of her pitiful human husband over the devotion of her sisters. At Morgause's downfall and Morgana's disappearance, Daenith found new companionship in her coven sisters, Nyx and Hecate. The three of them used the entirety of the middle ages to seduce the lords and kings of England for their amusement. They had no care in who they hurt, whether they were sowing discontent among the peoples of England and the rest of Europe, or which innocent life they murdered for their carefully crafted rituals.

Hecate's fate had transformed Daenith's opinion of the people she chose to follow. The way Nyx was so callously treated by Aries enraged her. Daenith's own treatment as some carrier for a curse that would enslave the mind of the elven queen made her sick. It brought forth memories of a time she would have rather forgotten, of her mother cowering in the corner with a jagged cut across her cheek because she dared to question Gorlois, and little Morgause cursing Igraine's weakness.

These thoughts and feelings were something knight elves weren't supposed to have. In the process of giving oneself over to the magic an elf, or prospective sorcerer or sorceress, had to purge themselves of all sentimentality and love. Such were signs of weakness and disgrace. All of her sisters but Elayne had gone through the ritualistic cleansing. Daenith had been the one to first cleanse herself of such emotions, yet, somehow they persisted. At first, she'd attempted to ignore them, then quell them, but to no avail. As her hatred for Hades, Aries and Mab grew so did her sympathies for the elven queen's fate should their plan succeed.

She closed her eyes for a moment as Prince Hades raised his fist into the air to call for their army to halt. Daenith pulled her horse to a stop and released a quiet breath. That terrible part of the journey was complete. It was unfortunate that such a journey ended with her being sequestered in such a disgusting place as Isengard.

As Daenith and Hades entered the tower they were met with the sight of the wizened shell of an elf Persephone had become counseling her gathered coven of sorceresses. All of them were dressed in pomegranate red riding cloaks and white stained leathers. Each of the coven-sister's heads were bowed in reverence as the elf explained their tasks in ancient greek. Daenith had never bothered to learn the language. Her dominion had been in Ireland where the wizard-kings of legend had ruled their small lands with their small minds. In the advent of the Middle Ages the playing field changed and Daenith had learned English. Ancient Greek had never once interested her.

She wished she'd never been so short-sighted.

The movement of a rainbow of lights and colors caught her attention and Daenith turned her full attention to a grand, circular, staircase that rose for several hundred feet before her. An old man strode down the steps with back straight and head held high. His staff was clasped by both hands and drawn before him across his body. A steel, grey gaze pierced through them and caused a creeping sense of unease to wash through her veins. This man was of the same, dark, ilk as Sauron. Behind him, Queen Mab descended dressed in sheer silk that clung tightly to her slim figure. A diadem of dark obsidian crowned her beautiful blond head.

'Oh? Have you crowned yourself Queen of the Faerie already?' Daenith wondered, though she didn't project the thought.

"Prince Hades ven Turthin has at last come to Isengard," the wizard stated as if such an obvious statement was needed.

"And before me is the high wizard, Saruman the White, and the Dark Queen of the Faerie, Mab. I am honored," came the lilting voice of the Prince of the Dead. "I see my wife is preparing for a hunt."

"Word has reached us," Saruman said gravely, "that the Ring has left Imladris' protections and travels southeast along the mountains. They seek to pass through the mountains by virtue of the Gap of Rohan. We intend to head them off and have her coven kill the protectors and bring the four hobbits to Isengard."

Queen Mab's blood red lips drew back into a malicious smile as she remarked, "I almost envy her. It would be exhilarating to have some fun with the men."

Normally, Daenith would have agreed with her, but her current disgust with her current lot was so great that she wanted nothing to do with her masters. The fact that she'd been reduced to such a pathetic state rankled her. As if sensing her thoughts, the wizard's gaze met hers and his chin dipped ever so slightly in a near imperceptible nod. Daenith kept her expression carefully blank so as to not draw attention to their interaction. Saruman was clearly perceptive, or he could read the surface thoughts of others. He was likely going to attempt to bring her over to the side of Sauron.

He needn't bother, her mind had long been made up without his help.

"Should we send the Siren?" Hades asked.

"No, the elf queen isn't with the Fellowship. I have word from Erebus that her trail leads to Lorien and does not travel beyond. My spies have also divined a troubling occurrence," Mab said.

"Which is?" Hades asked.

"The presence of your niece and the professor. There is strong evidence of both in Lorien though neither could be confirmed," the Faerie Queen replied.

A dark expression crossed the Prince of the Dead. Daenith watched him silently, curiously, as his jaw visibly clenched at the mere mention of the professor and Artemis ven Turthin. Laurel Moruni had not been a professor at the time of their interaction, but she had taken a badly cursed Athena from the palace at Olympus without letting on she'd ever set foot in the building and crossed the Great Expanse to the planet which Arda resided on. When Athena had returned, so did the professor and she became instrumental in Athena's rise to queendom. His niece, the Lady Huntress, and her twin brother had led the uprising.

"We must be vigilant, then," Hades said. "Both are dangerous and must not be allowed to gain footing. Tell Erebus to waist no time. Once our little queen leaves Lorien, he must capture and take her to Isengard. Until then, Daenith will stay here and wait for the queen to come to us."

"A wise decision, your highness," Saruman said dryly. "Until then, we have work to do."

The leaders walked into a council room and left Daenith to her own devices. She watched them, lips turned to a frown, and eyes narrowed in their direction.