Author's note: I'm so excited. My website has now had over two thousand
hits!!!! I remember being excited when the hit counter went into double
figures.
I've also had an article published in a magazine. OK, it's just a short piece about Sunday School in a local magazine, but it's a start.
***
"Sal?" Elessar asked cautiously.
"Kill me," Sal begged.
"I. . . I can't."
"It's the only way."
"No! We'll find a way to get him out of you," Elessar said, but Sal just shook his head. "We'll defeat him."
"I thought I had," Sal said, "I thought when I gained control of myself again it was the end, but he's still inside of me. I can't win. All I can do is hold him back for a time, but if I relax my guard for even a moment he will be back, and I might not get control. You have to kill him, and to do that you must kill me."
"There must be another way, and we'll find it." Elessar just refused to listen to what Sal was saying. He wouldn't accept that it was over. He wouldn't accept that his friend must die.
"Elessar, you heard what he said. Gondor will be destroyed. You have to stop it, you have to kill me."
"I can't," Elessar replied, his eyes filling with tears at the thought of losing his closest friend.
"Please," Sal said with great effort, "kill me." Then suddenly his eyes lit up with the fire, and Elessar instinctively leaned back. It wasn't just the eyes, but the whole set of the face that changed, and he knew that the man in front of him was no longer Sal.
"You cannot save him," Sauron said.
***
Pippin went to look in on Sal. He wished he could go back to not knowing what was wrong. That was better than the truth, since he couldn't have imagined it would be something so terrible. He remembered what it had been like with Boromir, how he had become something so different from the man who had been their friend. Would it be the same with Sal? Would the man who had saved his life twice become his enemy?
He looked in through the open doorway and saw that Sal and Strider were talking, but their words were quiet so he couldn't hear what was being said. Suddenly it was as though someone had lit a torch in Sal's head. His eyes burned red and Pippin shivered suddenly, remembering what had happened the last time he'd seen eyes like those.
He ducked back outside the room. He was afraid, and didn't want those eyes to see him. That thing sitting there wasn't Sal. The thought that there existed something that could destroy a person from the inside was a terrifying one, and Pippin knew he couldn't go inside that room and face it.
Instead he turned and walked away. He just couldn't bear the thought of what that thing was doing to Sal. What Sal was going through. But deep inside him was another fear. If it could happen to Sal, why not to him?
***
Sal watched through his burning eyes as Elessar's own filled with tears. He heard his own voice, taunting, jeering, and wished he could make it stop. The pain still filled the core of his being. Agony upon agony as Sauron punished him for taking back what was his for those few brief moments. But nothing could be worse than the look on Elessar's face as Sauron spoke.
"And your little daughter," he was saying, "too young now, but I expect she'll be very pretty when she's older. A pretty plaything for me." Sal could tell Elessar was trying not to listen, but he also knew it couldn't work.
"I will not let you harm any member of my family."
"How do you plan on stopping it? You killed me once before and I returned. Your friend killed me again, but now I have him. You will never be rid of me." Sal wondered if that was true. He didn't understand how Sauron had ended up inside of him, and so he couldn't know for sure what would happen if he died. Would he just be sentencing another to suffer as he was?
He finally understood how it must have been for Boromir, how he must have suffered as he watched the orcs torture his friends on his command. He remembered his grief and guilt when he learned what he had done. Now he knew that Boromir would have been smiling inside as fortune pierced his heart. For the first time in seventeen years, Sal was truly glad of what he did that day.
***
Sorry it's short, but it seemed a good place to end.
I've also had an article published in a magazine. OK, it's just a short piece about Sunday School in a local magazine, but it's a start.
***
"Sal?" Elessar asked cautiously.
"Kill me," Sal begged.
"I. . . I can't."
"It's the only way."
"No! We'll find a way to get him out of you," Elessar said, but Sal just shook his head. "We'll defeat him."
"I thought I had," Sal said, "I thought when I gained control of myself again it was the end, but he's still inside of me. I can't win. All I can do is hold him back for a time, but if I relax my guard for even a moment he will be back, and I might not get control. You have to kill him, and to do that you must kill me."
"There must be another way, and we'll find it." Elessar just refused to listen to what Sal was saying. He wouldn't accept that it was over. He wouldn't accept that his friend must die.
"Elessar, you heard what he said. Gondor will be destroyed. You have to stop it, you have to kill me."
"I can't," Elessar replied, his eyes filling with tears at the thought of losing his closest friend.
"Please," Sal said with great effort, "kill me." Then suddenly his eyes lit up with the fire, and Elessar instinctively leaned back. It wasn't just the eyes, but the whole set of the face that changed, and he knew that the man in front of him was no longer Sal.
"You cannot save him," Sauron said.
***
Pippin went to look in on Sal. He wished he could go back to not knowing what was wrong. That was better than the truth, since he couldn't have imagined it would be something so terrible. He remembered what it had been like with Boromir, how he had become something so different from the man who had been their friend. Would it be the same with Sal? Would the man who had saved his life twice become his enemy?
He looked in through the open doorway and saw that Sal and Strider were talking, but their words were quiet so he couldn't hear what was being said. Suddenly it was as though someone had lit a torch in Sal's head. His eyes burned red and Pippin shivered suddenly, remembering what had happened the last time he'd seen eyes like those.
He ducked back outside the room. He was afraid, and didn't want those eyes to see him. That thing sitting there wasn't Sal. The thought that there existed something that could destroy a person from the inside was a terrifying one, and Pippin knew he couldn't go inside that room and face it.
Instead he turned and walked away. He just couldn't bear the thought of what that thing was doing to Sal. What Sal was going through. But deep inside him was another fear. If it could happen to Sal, why not to him?
***
Sal watched through his burning eyes as Elessar's own filled with tears. He heard his own voice, taunting, jeering, and wished he could make it stop. The pain still filled the core of his being. Agony upon agony as Sauron punished him for taking back what was his for those few brief moments. But nothing could be worse than the look on Elessar's face as Sauron spoke.
"And your little daughter," he was saying, "too young now, but I expect she'll be very pretty when she's older. A pretty plaything for me." Sal could tell Elessar was trying not to listen, but he also knew it couldn't work.
"I will not let you harm any member of my family."
"How do you plan on stopping it? You killed me once before and I returned. Your friend killed me again, but now I have him. You will never be rid of me." Sal wondered if that was true. He didn't understand how Sauron had ended up inside of him, and so he couldn't know for sure what would happen if he died. Would he just be sentencing another to suffer as he was?
He finally understood how it must have been for Boromir, how he must have suffered as he watched the orcs torture his friends on his command. He remembered his grief and guilt when he learned what he had done. Now he knew that Boromir would have been smiling inside as fortune pierced his heart. For the first time in seventeen years, Sal was truly glad of what he did that day.
***
Sorry it's short, but it seemed a good place to end.