Sauron's lieutenant scowled at the small hobbit writhing in front of him.
He was resisting the sorcery this time. The Halfling moaned, tossing and
turning as if in a nightmare.
"How was it that he was changed back?" the Mouth of Sauron whispered to himself. "What sorcery was it that reversed this magic? It must have something to do with elves."
He paced the length of the room and stopped in front of the Halfling again. "How about we try it extra this time, hmm?" he said sourly to Frodo and from his hands came what looked like black bolts of lightning.
Frodo emitted a small scream as if in pain, and twisted more violently. Then he held still... he didn't move again...
The lieutenant smirked.
***Frodo's Point of View***
He was in that dream again. Last time he hadn't known what it was, so he had held still with horror trying to will it to disappear. Now he knew what they were doing. He knew the dream wouldn't end until they had a hold of him; of his mind.
The faces. Those shadowy faces with black sagging holes for eyes and their mouths agape in suffering and anguish. They came at him, their shadowy claws reaching at his face, scratching and marking it. Their voices rose in screams of pain and fear, reaching to such pitches that made his skin crawl and sent shivers up his spine.
Frodo looked on in horror, and tried to get away. He began to run though he didn't know where he ran to. The faces where all around him, their screams filling his ears. He ran, not able to see where he was going. The blackness pressed in on him and the faces were closing in.
Then he saw a light, a familiar light and with the light he saw the face of Sam. He ran faster trying to reach him.
"Sam!" he called, but Sam was disappearing. He was moving further and further away with each step that Frodo took, the light retreating with him. "Sam!!!"
Lightening crossed what he thought might be the sky. But it wasn't just any lightening; it was black.
The faces moved in on him. They closed around him, their terrible screams and moans coming from their horrible agape mouths. Frodo screamed and tried to escape the mass of smoky faces.
"SAM!"
******
Sam walked slowly yet deliberately in the direction he best guessed was towards Mount Doom. He was way beyond any more tears now. What he felt now was the familiar rage that plagued him in this Black Land. The Dark Lord of Mordor would feel his wrath. He would destroy this Ring even if it brought his own death. The Ring that had caused so much suffering would be destroyed.
He looked up and gasped at the sight of Mount Doom. The huge mountain towered above him. He didn't know when he had become to close to it, but there it was in front of him.
"Well, Mr. Frodo," he said to the air, "I've made it this far. I just hope I make it the rest of the way. If your really gone this time, Mr. Frodo, I'll be with you shortly."
He continued his way up the Mountain to where was sure to be his death.
"How was it that he was changed back?" the Mouth of Sauron whispered to himself. "What sorcery was it that reversed this magic? It must have something to do with elves."
He paced the length of the room and stopped in front of the Halfling again. "How about we try it extra this time, hmm?" he said sourly to Frodo and from his hands came what looked like black bolts of lightning.
Frodo emitted a small scream as if in pain, and twisted more violently. Then he held still... he didn't move again...
The lieutenant smirked.
***Frodo's Point of View***
He was in that dream again. Last time he hadn't known what it was, so he had held still with horror trying to will it to disappear. Now he knew what they were doing. He knew the dream wouldn't end until they had a hold of him; of his mind.
The faces. Those shadowy faces with black sagging holes for eyes and their mouths agape in suffering and anguish. They came at him, their shadowy claws reaching at his face, scratching and marking it. Their voices rose in screams of pain and fear, reaching to such pitches that made his skin crawl and sent shivers up his spine.
Frodo looked on in horror, and tried to get away. He began to run though he didn't know where he ran to. The faces where all around him, their screams filling his ears. He ran, not able to see where he was going. The blackness pressed in on him and the faces were closing in.
Then he saw a light, a familiar light and with the light he saw the face of Sam. He ran faster trying to reach him.
"Sam!" he called, but Sam was disappearing. He was moving further and further away with each step that Frodo took, the light retreating with him. "Sam!!!"
Lightening crossed what he thought might be the sky. But it wasn't just any lightening; it was black.
The faces moved in on him. They closed around him, their terrible screams and moans coming from their horrible agape mouths. Frodo screamed and tried to escape the mass of smoky faces.
"SAM!"
******
Sam walked slowly yet deliberately in the direction he best guessed was towards Mount Doom. He was way beyond any more tears now. What he felt now was the familiar rage that plagued him in this Black Land. The Dark Lord of Mordor would feel his wrath. He would destroy this Ring even if it brought his own death. The Ring that had caused so much suffering would be destroyed.
He looked up and gasped at the sight of Mount Doom. The huge mountain towered above him. He didn't know when he had become to close to it, but there it was in front of him.
"Well, Mr. Frodo," he said to the air, "I've made it this far. I just hope I make it the rest of the way. If your really gone this time, Mr. Frodo, I'll be with you shortly."
He continued his way up the Mountain to where was sure to be his death.