The Witch King of Angmar vs. Lord Voldemort

By Gamgified

Rated PG for slight bias in narration and some violence

Summary: Lord Voldemort (you all know who he is, right?) has a, perhaps accidental confrontation with the Witch King of Angmar (aka the Top Ringwraith, Head Nazgul, Big Bad Guy Under Sauron, Chief of Minas Morgul, and The Guy Who Stabbed "that Hobbit) and Voldie, with his over-the-top ego, challenges our good friend Witchy.

~~~

No one knows exactly what happened, not how Voldemort ended up on an abandoned plateau at dusk, or how a Ringwraith from Middle-earth also happened to be there at the same time, or how neither of them knew precisely where they were, but it happened. (Really, it did.) And the events that occurred then were intriguing, that is, if you have an interest in both Middle-earth and Britain's wizarding world, or perhaps, if you feel there is a rivalry between the two, as I sometimes do, you will find the contest between the two powers from opposite worlds especially relevant.

Voldie had been quietly drinking his afternoon tea, plotting, as usual, how to rid himself of the annoyance by the name of Potter, and as he thought, he found himself slowly drifting deeper and deeper into thought, until suddenly, he was no longer in the familiar surroundings of his hideout, nor was he sitting near his fireplace. He sprang up in absolute amazement to find that he was holding a dagger and standing in a bare wasteland upon a jutting plateau of granite and nothing else. Opposite him, was an even more surprising sight. A figure, cloaked in black, the inside of his cowl seemingly empty, sitting on, what Voldie thought, was a very ugly horse.

Now, how the Witch King got there is a mystery, and as he has not offered the information and no one has been foolish enough to ask him, it remains still a mystery and it would not be advisable to try to wheedle it out of him, that act being one of only a suicidal madman.

Voldie, having taken in his surroundings and sized up his only companion that he could see for miles about, sneered and threw a disdainful glance at the silent figure.

"Is that a horse or an oversized pig?" he snapped arrogantly and turned to look again at the barren land stretching out upon all sides, hoping unconsciously that he might see something to guide him back to England.

Behind him, the figure shifted slightly, but remained quite silent, the space in which his face might have been stared back at Lord Voldemort, blank.

Voldie gazed quite a while out at nothing until he became aware that he was unusually uncomfortable under the Ringwraith's invisible glare and as he realized this he slowly began to turn, hoping that the other had vanished and that his feeling had merely been imagination: the figure still sat, as immobile as before, yet very much there. Voldie's hands clenched and he fingered his wand angrily – the something snapped he through the wand to the ground and snatched a stone up off it and yelled, "Aren't you even awake?" he through the stone carelessly in the Ringwraith's direction and began to turn back but a movement caught his eye and he stopped.

The wraith's hand twitched ever so slightly and the stone shattered in midair.

Voldie froze, utterly perplexed and surprised by this sudden feat; not quite believing his eyes, he grabbed another stone and tossed it in the wraith's direction. But this time, the stone flew back, as if it had bounced off a hard surface, long before it came near either horse or rider. It unassumingly landed on Voldie's toe.

Voldemort looked for a moment, quietly down at his foot where the jagged stone sat, happily smashing his toe; his right hand snapped down, snatching the wand back off the ground and pointing it at the offending little piece of rock which slowly slipped into a powdery sand, leaving the end of his boot covered in the substance.

Rigid, he stomped and yelled, "I challenge you to a duel, you bundle of black cloth!"

The wraith was silent and still for only a few seconds before he slowly and deliberately dismounted, drew his sword and then a voice hissed, coming from where, if Voldie could have seen it, there once would have been a face.

"So be it."

A chill ran up Voldemort's back at the harsh, hissing voice, but he sneered. He was the most powerful wizard on earth, was he not? But then the question came: was he really on earth?

The Witch King was again inert, sword raised in his black-gloved hands, but he moved no further after the drawing of his blade, facing the black robed and skeletal figure of Lord Voldemort, he stood as if waiting.

Voldemort felt plainly that he was meant to make the first move, but he was wary of finding out his adversary's strength first hand, and so he also waited, the still air hanging about him as though it too were watching and waiting and Dark Wizard began to feel unnerved.

Author's Note: First half. Next and last part deals, naturally with the actual fighting which I guess is what at least half of you have been waiting for this whole time. Alas, I cannot write of it now. Lamarié.