Author's note: No reviews! Not one single review! *Sniff* Well, if you
don't want to know what happens next I don't have to update.
***
Sal opened his eyes and saw through the flickering veil of red. He was sitting in a chair in Bag End, tied down securely so he couldn't move, but he strained against the restraints anyone. Or rather, the thing inside him strained against them.
Sal looked out, the way Sauron directed his eyes, and saw Elessar sitting in front of him. Anduril lay across his lap, unsheathed, in case it was needed. Elessar was staring at him with a cold, calm look on his face, but his eyes betrayed him. Those eyes held a wealth of grief and sorrow. . . and guilt.
Guilt rose inside Sal as he saw that. He was responsible for the pain Elessar was feeling. It was because of him that Elessar was upset. It was irrational, but that didn't stop him feeling it.
"I'm sorry, Sal," Elessar said quietly.
Sal heard his own laugh, and his own voice speak. "Your friend cannot here you. He is gone forever."
"You are a creature of lies. I know my friend is alive in you, and I want him to know that I am sorry."
'You've nothing to be sorry about,' Sal thought, desperately trying to speak. Suddenly every nerve was on fire with pain. He couldn't focus on anything but the pain and had no idea how long it lasted when suddenly it ended.
'Do not try to fight me,' a voice inside his head whispered, 'I can make you suffer pain a million times worse than you imagine possible.' Sal couldn't imagine any worse pain than the expression on the face of the man opposite him. There were tears in Elessar's eyes, trapped there by some force of will that prevented them flowing free.
"You can say nothing to bring your friend back," Sauron was saying with Sal's voice when he was able to focus on his surroundings again. Sal could see the conflict in an expression that most people would consider impassive. He knew Elessar too well not to read his thoughts in his face. He didn't want to believe what he was being told, but some part of him was beginning to doubt. Beginning to believe Sal lost.
'No! No! I'm here!' Sal shouted in his thoughts, but there was no way for Elessar to hear him.
"Your friend has fallen to my will," Sauron continued, "and your kingdom will follow soon. My armies are prepared, ready to march, and you are too far from home. Minas Tirith will burn, but you shall be spared, a king with no subjects." A sick feeling filled Sal's stomach. His people, his home, his family, destroyed. That was worse than any of the nightmares he had suffered.
"No!" In a moment of desperate fear, Sal knew he had to do something, and the red fire disappeared from his vision. He felt the thing inside him, surging with anger at this outburst, and looked straight into Elessar's eyes.
"Kill me," he begged. Then the world turned red again, and pain filled every core of his being. Pure agony flowed through his veins and blossomed along his skin. All his senses were overwhelmed by the pain.
***
Parlond was sitting with Sal now. They weren't going to leave him unguarded for a moment. Elessar sat in the kitchen, eating a bowl of soup that Rosie had made. Merry, Pippin and Sam were sitting there as well.
"Is Sal actually. . . alive?" Pippin asked.
"I think so," Elessar said. "He spoke to me. For a moment, the fire in his eyes disappeared and he spoke. He asked me to kill him." Fe had seen the pleading look, and was sure it was Sal who had spoken. But what if it wasn't? What if it was some trick of Sauron's to make him turn against his friend? He didn't know what to believe any more.
Some time later he went to the room where Sal was being kept. He was asleep in the chair, head resting on his chest. His face was slightly flushed, and his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Parlond was sitting in front of him.
"I owe you an apology," Elessar said when Parlond turned to look at him, "I should have listened to you."
"You trusted your friend."
"I should have trusted you as well." He looked over at Sal. "How is he?"
"He fell asleep a while ago. I think he has a fever." Elessar went to the chair, and held his hand above Sal's forehead. It was warm.
"The body fights infections with fever," he said quietly, "maybe Sal's trying to fight this infection." He looked back at Parlond. "I'll watch him again." Parlond nodded and stood, and Elessar took his place on the chair.
Hours passed in silence. Sal stirred occasionally in his sleep, disturbed by dreams, and it seemed to Elessar almost as though he really was looking at his friend. A friend who needed him. The problem was that he didn't know how he could help. He sat and watched. Others came and looked in from time to time, sometimes saying a few words, sometimes watching in silence. Elessar spoke to them, but forgot what he had said almost as soon as the words passed his lips. All his thoughts were on the friend who sat in the chair opposite him.
Sal stirred suddenly, crying out in his sleep. Elessar sat up straighter, watching him with concern. Then Sal's eyes snapped open, though he still didn't seem to see.
"NO!" he shouted, pulling against the ropes in panic. A moment later the panic was gone, and Sal looked at Elessar with eyes clear and brown, free from the evil inside of him.
***
Wow. Two chapters in the same story that end on a happy note. I think there's something wrong with me.
I spent another joyous Saturday morning painting gutters. At least my bedroom has most of a roof now. Still no floor though, that might be a problem.
***
Sal opened his eyes and saw through the flickering veil of red. He was sitting in a chair in Bag End, tied down securely so he couldn't move, but he strained against the restraints anyone. Or rather, the thing inside him strained against them.
Sal looked out, the way Sauron directed his eyes, and saw Elessar sitting in front of him. Anduril lay across his lap, unsheathed, in case it was needed. Elessar was staring at him with a cold, calm look on his face, but his eyes betrayed him. Those eyes held a wealth of grief and sorrow. . . and guilt.
Guilt rose inside Sal as he saw that. He was responsible for the pain Elessar was feeling. It was because of him that Elessar was upset. It was irrational, but that didn't stop him feeling it.
"I'm sorry, Sal," Elessar said quietly.
Sal heard his own laugh, and his own voice speak. "Your friend cannot here you. He is gone forever."
"You are a creature of lies. I know my friend is alive in you, and I want him to know that I am sorry."
'You've nothing to be sorry about,' Sal thought, desperately trying to speak. Suddenly every nerve was on fire with pain. He couldn't focus on anything but the pain and had no idea how long it lasted when suddenly it ended.
'Do not try to fight me,' a voice inside his head whispered, 'I can make you suffer pain a million times worse than you imagine possible.' Sal couldn't imagine any worse pain than the expression on the face of the man opposite him. There were tears in Elessar's eyes, trapped there by some force of will that prevented them flowing free.
"You can say nothing to bring your friend back," Sauron was saying with Sal's voice when he was able to focus on his surroundings again. Sal could see the conflict in an expression that most people would consider impassive. He knew Elessar too well not to read his thoughts in his face. He didn't want to believe what he was being told, but some part of him was beginning to doubt. Beginning to believe Sal lost.
'No! No! I'm here!' Sal shouted in his thoughts, but there was no way for Elessar to hear him.
"Your friend has fallen to my will," Sauron continued, "and your kingdom will follow soon. My armies are prepared, ready to march, and you are too far from home. Minas Tirith will burn, but you shall be spared, a king with no subjects." A sick feeling filled Sal's stomach. His people, his home, his family, destroyed. That was worse than any of the nightmares he had suffered.
"No!" In a moment of desperate fear, Sal knew he had to do something, and the red fire disappeared from his vision. He felt the thing inside him, surging with anger at this outburst, and looked straight into Elessar's eyes.
"Kill me," he begged. Then the world turned red again, and pain filled every core of his being. Pure agony flowed through his veins and blossomed along his skin. All his senses were overwhelmed by the pain.
***
Parlond was sitting with Sal now. They weren't going to leave him unguarded for a moment. Elessar sat in the kitchen, eating a bowl of soup that Rosie had made. Merry, Pippin and Sam were sitting there as well.
"Is Sal actually. . . alive?" Pippin asked.
"I think so," Elessar said. "He spoke to me. For a moment, the fire in his eyes disappeared and he spoke. He asked me to kill him." Fe had seen the pleading look, and was sure it was Sal who had spoken. But what if it wasn't? What if it was some trick of Sauron's to make him turn against his friend? He didn't know what to believe any more.
Some time later he went to the room where Sal was being kept. He was asleep in the chair, head resting on his chest. His face was slightly flushed, and his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Parlond was sitting in front of him.
"I owe you an apology," Elessar said when Parlond turned to look at him, "I should have listened to you."
"You trusted your friend."
"I should have trusted you as well." He looked over at Sal. "How is he?"
"He fell asleep a while ago. I think he has a fever." Elessar went to the chair, and held his hand above Sal's forehead. It was warm.
"The body fights infections with fever," he said quietly, "maybe Sal's trying to fight this infection." He looked back at Parlond. "I'll watch him again." Parlond nodded and stood, and Elessar took his place on the chair.
Hours passed in silence. Sal stirred occasionally in his sleep, disturbed by dreams, and it seemed to Elessar almost as though he really was looking at his friend. A friend who needed him. The problem was that he didn't know how he could help. He sat and watched. Others came and looked in from time to time, sometimes saying a few words, sometimes watching in silence. Elessar spoke to them, but forgot what he had said almost as soon as the words passed his lips. All his thoughts were on the friend who sat in the chair opposite him.
Sal stirred suddenly, crying out in his sleep. Elessar sat up straighter, watching him with concern. Then Sal's eyes snapped open, though he still didn't seem to see.
"NO!" he shouted, pulling against the ropes in panic. A moment later the panic was gone, and Sal looked at Elessar with eyes clear and brown, free from the evil inside of him.
***
Wow. Two chapters in the same story that end on a happy note. I think there's something wrong with me.
I spent another joyous Saturday morning painting gutters. At least my bedroom has most of a roof now. Still no floor though, that might be a problem.