A/N: Artaher is Orodreth from the Silmarillion (Finarfin's son and cousin to the seven brothers) and the Minas Tirith Curufin refers to is Finrod's watchtower on Tol Sirion, the fortress Sauron later transformed into Tol-in-Gaurhoth (Isle of Werewolves).

3

It was before noon on August the eighth that Maedhros first sensed his mount growing restless beneath him. As they neared the southern limits of Mirkwood and threat seeped ever more potent out of the dark woods, the animals reared and snorted and rolled their eyes in a terrible fright. By morning of the following day, nothing the wizards or the Elves did could soothe them and Maglor's horse threw him when he tried to steer her just a step closer to the edge of the forest.

Radagast finally declared that their horses would ride no further and for the love of no master would they enter the forest so close to Dol Guldur. There was no choice but to tether the leading stallion with the longest rope they had, to hide most of their belongings as best as they could and continue on foot. They had not come across anyone - friend or foe, Man or Elf - throughout the entire cavalcade south. Hopefully luck would hold enough to secure both horses and provisions, else Fëanor said that he would run to Rohan on foot before crossing the river and asking for aid from Lothlorien.

They walked the distance that remained to the edge of the forest swiftly, carrying only some water and lembas and all the weapons in their possession. Maedhros felt his heart sinking as they stopped at the line of trees and the very air that wafted from them was heavy with decay. But he saw his father squaring his shoulders and crossing the invisible boundary with Gandalf hurrying after him.

Walking into the woods that surrounded Sauron's lair felt like leaving the world of the living and of light. As soon as they were all beneath the canopy of gnarled branches and dark leaves that glistened as though coated with blood, a pall of darkness fell over them, rank with the cloying smell of rotting vegetation and something even more sinister. Even Elvish eyes needed time to adjust to the dim world around them and when Maedhros could finally see where he was, he had to muffle a moan and keep from tearing at his throat for a clean breath of air.

Nothing good and wholesome grew there and what trees had endured the corruption were bent, twisted, overgrown with poisonous vines. Fat, red berries hung from those vines and some lay in clusters on the ground, exploding in dark splatters when Maedhros accidentally stepped on them. He had no doubt that eating even one of those things would bring about death in the most painful of ways.

Cobwebs hung between the trees and pooled on the sickly-hued moss. Beneath them, bones of all sizes littered the forest floor. But neither spiders, nor any other living creature could be seen, although the fetid air seemed to hum with watchfulness.

"We shall have some light and not wander blindly into some spider's trap," Gandalf said. "Sauron's spies will have warned him of our coming long ago."

The wizard lit his staff and Radagast did the same. A shudder ran through the trees and the leaves rustled, trying to curl in on themselves. Unseen creatures screeched and scuttled away from the eldritch light, but Maedhros tightened the grip on the hilt of his sword, poised as the rest of his kinsmen to fight whatever dared approach them.

"Won't Sauron be gone if he knows we've come to rout him out?" Fëanor asked the wizards.

"He is still here," Radagast told him.

"He is. I can feel him as well," Curufin whispered but would say no more when they all turned their eyes to him.

"Forward now, we are losing daylight and trust me, you do not want to be caught in this place when night falls," Gandalf started through the trees, staff held out before him.

Maedhros wanted to say that the gloom around them could not possibly pass for daylight, but he caught his father's eye and sighed when Fëanor shook his head. They followed the wizards, treading carefully, eyes roaming everywhere. Without so much as a glimpse of the sky and the way some trees seemed to change their position both ahead and behind, it was impossible to keep any sense of direction. But Gandalf seemed fairly confident as he picked his path and the mounting sense of danger was proof enough that they were getting closer to the old ruins.

Constantly scanning the gloom and the shifting shapes around them, they advanced slowly and the forest itself seemed determined to block their path. Trees put out roots before their feet and they stumbled more than once, until Fëanor said they should hold onto one another. Branches creaked and tried to slap them viciously. Sometimes, they could not move out of the way fast enough and, in a sudden fit, Caranthir pulled out his sword, violently hacking a tree that had hit him.

"I will torch this Eru forsaken place!" he yelled and all around him, the trees groaned ominously.

"No! Stop it! Lower your weapon!" Radagast rushed to his side and forcefully pulled Caranthir away. Branches gave way before the light of the wizard's staff, but snapped closed behind him and the furious Caranthir.

When Maedhros guided his brother back in the line they formed, they both gaped at the black, sticky sap that covered Caranthir's blade.

"Everything is evil in this place. We should never have come here," Caranthir muttered darkly.

"Move out!" Gandalf called after them and they followed him, even more wary than before.

For a little while, the constant murmur in the branches ceased and if it were not for the increasingly suffocating quality of the air, Maedhros would have believed that the forest had relented. But of course, it had only rallied itself and called upon reinforcements. Suddenly, something hissed past Maedhros' shoulder and hit Maglor. Maglor stumbled forward, falling onto Caranthir but before the other Elf could turn around and catch him, Maglor was yanked back on a cord of spider silk as thick as the Elvish rope they carried. Maedhros pulled his sword out and slashed through the cord just in time to prevent the huge, black spider it belonged to from pulling Maglor toward him.

But more sticky projectiles flew at them from every direction and most found their targets. Maedhros heard his kinsmen shouting and saw them swinging their swords wildly. His own arm was splattered with the foul-smelling stuff and a spider tugged him forward, clicking and chattering as it moved upon him. With an angry roar, Maedhros yanked on the cord with all his strength and the spider tumbled forward, beating the ground wildly with its hairy legs. Maedhros leapt upon it and swung his sword across the beast's head, taking out all of its malicious eyes. The spider gave a hair-raising screech and tried to right itself, pushing on its hind legs and snapping at Maedhros with its jaws. But the Elf sprang out of the way, tearing through the monster's legs and plunging his blade deep into the spider's hideous belly.

Maedhros gagged as he leaped back before the unbearable reek and the greenish stuff pouring out of that wound. The spider's desperate screams grew louder and its thrashing even more violent. Blinded and crippled, it fell on the stumps on its side and rolled on its back, beating the air with the legs that remained. Although such foul things deserved no pity, Maedhros raised his sword and dealt it one blow after the other, until the mangled carcass ceased to move.

Trying to breathe through his nose, he turned around to find Maglor behind him and see that his brother defended him from other attackers and slashed at webs being spat at them. Curufin and Caranthir did the same, two spiders lying dead near them, while their father and the wizards dispatched yet more of the beasts.

But there was no way of knowing how many spiders lay beyond their line of sight. Sauron might as well have summoned all the beasts under his dominion to kill the intruders. Radagast must have thought of the same thing as he raised his staff and a blinding light shot out from it. Something coiled through the air, sending Maedhros reeling and when the invisible wave hit the trees, they snapped like broken twigs. In the glare of that terrible light, Maedhros saw many dark forms shriveling and yet more trying to escape. But they were caught and burned and the forest was rent by the force the wizard had unleashed.

It couldn't have lasted more than a moment and when the light went out, they all stumbled around blindly, trying to find each other.

"Are any of you wounded?" Fëanor called out to them and Maedhros found him by the sound of his voice alone.

"I am not… I think. It's me, atar," Maedhros said when his father started and whirled around at the touch of his hand.

Fëanor collected him in a relieved embrace and they both called out to the others, groping for Maglor and Caranthir and Curufin and holding onto them until their eyes began to discern some things again. They felt each other for wounds and breathed a sigh of relief to discover nobody had been harmed.

"I should not have done that," Radagast muttered, walking to them and leaning on his staff. "I should have preserved my strength."

A shudder ran through Maedhros when he thought what the wizard's words really meant.

"You saw the number of those creatures. We would have drowned in their foul blood before half of them were killed. There was no other choice," Fëanor replied.

"Perhaps not. But we must press on now," Gandalf refused them even the smallest reprieve.

But nobody protested as they walked away from that place, picking a path through the spider corpses and torn trees as best as they could. And as they left behind all the destruction, it seemed to Maedhros that the trees were thinning. Gradually, they gave way before thorny shrubs and coarse grass and as they stepped out into what seemed to be a clearing, their breath stuck in their throats and they stared at the dark hill rising before them.

Even out from the oppressive shadow of the trees, the light of day had fled that place many years before and in its stead, plumes of darkness rolled from the top of the hill, some of it rising into the sky and some slithering through the sparse, tortured vegetation. The fortress of Dol Guldur crowned that solitary hill, stuck on its head like a bent and broken thing. It must have been whole once, but only the skeletal structure remained, pillars and partially crumbled walls pointing at the dark sky like so many accusing fingers. It appeared as though many fires had raged among those walls and each ate through stone but not all of it and the charred remains endured. A bridge still stood over some kind of overgrown moat and from it, a trail led into the open maw of the fortress gates. But the mere sight of that place was forbidding and Maedhros saw in his kinsmen the same desire to turn back and flee that he himself felt.

"I know the evil that dwells here," Curufin said, his voice flat and lifeless in the gloom. "I have felt it before."

Fëanor moved closer to his son and Curufin accepted his protective embrace without any thought for appearance or pride.

"In Minas Tirith, when Sauron's armies overcame us… We had to surrender the fortress and flee south with Artaher. That's when I felt this breath of death at our backs. If Turko were here, he would recognize it as well. Sauron is here."

"What do we do now?" Caranthir shifted impatiently. He was afraid, Maedhros knew him well enough to read it in his brother's eyes. Precisely for that, Caranthir needed to do something else but stare dumbly into the rotten jaws of that fortress.

"Is there no way to tear the place down from here?" Fëanor looked at the two wizards. "Is there no master word or song of power we could use to uproot this lair and crush it into dust?"

"Would that it could be so easy…," Gandalf sighed. "But dwellings of such evil making cannot be destroyed unless they are wrested from the mastery of their maker and he is vanquished. If we cannot achieve one, we shall at least attempt the other."

"We have not the power of undoing, Fëanáro," Radagast said. "We are in this world to protect and nourish and to stave off evil."

"Then how do you propose to destroy Sauron?!" Fëanor hissed. "You expect me to lead my sons into that place and now you tell me that you have no power to destroy? What is this? A plot to send me back to Mandos?"

"Peace, Fëanáro, nobody is plotting your demise. You know as well as we do that Sauron cannot truly be annihilated unless his Ring of Power is recovered and destroyed. While that ring endures, in whatever corner of the world it may be, Sauron endures also. He waits and gathers strength and that is what we will put an end to. We will not finish him, but we will drive him from his safe place. He cannot take visible shape; his spirit will never dwell in a house of flesh and blood again. Sauron has surrounded himself by darkness and an impassable labyrinth of death that only we have been able to pass through. But without all these defenses, he is naked, helpless beneath the sun and alone in the wastes where we shall drive him. He will wail with the wind and be swept off once we cast him out of his fortress. And for that, I promise you, we have enough strength between us."

Maedhros passed a hand over his face as his father sighed and relented. Although his eyes saw it, his mind refused to register that he would have to walk through those gates and find Morgoth's old lieutenant somewhere amid the rubble.