Author's note: I decided I wouldn't post this chapter until I had at least
three reviews for the last one. I've had one, but I've decided to be nice.
***
Sal felt the pain tear through his heart, and looked down. Fortune's blade was coming from his heart, the smooth metal stained with blood. The pain came again as the sword was pulled free, and he turned to see who had down this to him.
He saw himself, a frightened young boy, holding a sword he didn't yet know how to use. He pitied that boy, who had so much suffering in his future, but at the same time he wished he could be him, as he still had joy to come. Standing there, knowing he was dreaming, Sal looked at the sword Elessar had given him, before they ever became friends.
He looked at the hand that held it. Stained with blood.
***
His eyes snapped open, only this time there was no confusing fog. There was no red fire. There was just himself, and the knowledge he had gained. Elessar was sitting in front of him as before, staring vaguely in front of him, but he was alert the moment he realised Sal was awake.
"Sal?"
"Blood on my hands," he said.
"What?"
"His blood on my hands. That was how he got into me, just some small part of his spirit passing through my skin. He's lived in me for the past seventeen years, too weak to do anything, just waiting. Growing. He'll get stronger every moment he's inside me, you have to stop him."
"I can't, Sal. I can't kill you."
"It's the only way to destroy him. You must destroy me, make sure there's nothing left. Kill me, burn my body, and make sure no one touches my remains. I don't know if he's strong enough yet to pass into another, but we can't risk it. You have to kill me."
"No," Elessar said, tears flowing down his cheeks.
"You took me with you to Mordor because you knew someone had to kill Boromir. I know what he was suffering, and I'm glad I kill him. You said so yourself, there is nothing worse than being a prisoner inside yourself, seeing you hands torture those you care about. Would you torture me by putting me through that?"
Elessar looked deep into Sal's eyes, and Sal felt tears run down his cheeks for what he was asking his friend to do. Then Elessar nodded.
Sal felt Sauron, a constant presence inside of him. He could feel him struggling, trying to break through, and held on. It wouldn't take long. Soon he would be free of this monster forever.
"We may not have much time, I don't know how long I can keep control. You must kill me quickly." Elessar nodded.
***
They were in a group of trees by the Hill. Sal stood, bound tightly, but still in control of himself. In front of him were the three hobbits, Parlond and, of course, Elessar. Parlond had offered to do this, but Elessar knew he had to be the one to kill Sal, otherwise he would never be able to forgive the one who did.
The hobbits wept, and clung to each other. This reunion was supposed to have been an occasion for joy, not the execution of a friend. Sam didn't know Sal like the others did, but he knew he was their friend, and that was enough.
Parlond placed a hand to his heart in a gesture of loyalty. His face was calm, but Sal could see that his eyes were wet. Only a few weeks ago he would have killed Sal as a traitor if they had met, yet now he was weeping at Sal's funeral.
All of those present were thinking about Sal, thinking about the things they had done together, the things they would never do again. Not Sal though. Sal was thinking of the grief his death would cause others. He thought of Rion and Rith, who thought he was just going away like he always did, who were expecting him to come back. He thought of his parents who he visited on most of his visits to the city. They didn't know the truth about Sal's exile, but they loved him still. Most of all he thought of Elessar. Elessar who had trained him and fought beside him, who had laughed with him and at him on more occasions than Sal could count. Elessar, his closest friend. He knew this would hurt him, and he wished there was another way.
They would burn his body, make sure that there was nothing left but ashes, and then they would build a cairn of stones over what was left. None of them would touch him. None of them would risk repeating this. Elessar had decided that the two pieces of fortune would be set in a clay tablet and placed at the head of cairn. His sword would remain by him forever.
Elessar's eyes were filled with tears as he placed an arrow on the string of his bow. It was better this way. There was no chance of blood touching anyone. Elessar drew back his bow, and Sal closed his eyes, waiting. The tears which blurred the king's eyes didn't do anything to ruin his aim.
Sal's death came so swiftly he didn't even feel the arrow strike.
THE END
Surprisingly enough there won't be a sequel, but I've already started work on my next story.
Thank you to those who've reviewed. The rest of you can read my next story and REVIEW!!! How am I supposed to improve if I don't get feedback? Thank you for bothering to read this far.
***
Sal felt the pain tear through his heart, and looked down. Fortune's blade was coming from his heart, the smooth metal stained with blood. The pain came again as the sword was pulled free, and he turned to see who had down this to him.
He saw himself, a frightened young boy, holding a sword he didn't yet know how to use. He pitied that boy, who had so much suffering in his future, but at the same time he wished he could be him, as he still had joy to come. Standing there, knowing he was dreaming, Sal looked at the sword Elessar had given him, before they ever became friends.
He looked at the hand that held it. Stained with blood.
***
His eyes snapped open, only this time there was no confusing fog. There was no red fire. There was just himself, and the knowledge he had gained. Elessar was sitting in front of him as before, staring vaguely in front of him, but he was alert the moment he realised Sal was awake.
"Sal?"
"Blood on my hands," he said.
"What?"
"His blood on my hands. That was how he got into me, just some small part of his spirit passing through my skin. He's lived in me for the past seventeen years, too weak to do anything, just waiting. Growing. He'll get stronger every moment he's inside me, you have to stop him."
"I can't, Sal. I can't kill you."
"It's the only way to destroy him. You must destroy me, make sure there's nothing left. Kill me, burn my body, and make sure no one touches my remains. I don't know if he's strong enough yet to pass into another, but we can't risk it. You have to kill me."
"No," Elessar said, tears flowing down his cheeks.
"You took me with you to Mordor because you knew someone had to kill Boromir. I know what he was suffering, and I'm glad I kill him. You said so yourself, there is nothing worse than being a prisoner inside yourself, seeing you hands torture those you care about. Would you torture me by putting me through that?"
Elessar looked deep into Sal's eyes, and Sal felt tears run down his cheeks for what he was asking his friend to do. Then Elessar nodded.
Sal felt Sauron, a constant presence inside of him. He could feel him struggling, trying to break through, and held on. It wouldn't take long. Soon he would be free of this monster forever.
"We may not have much time, I don't know how long I can keep control. You must kill me quickly." Elessar nodded.
***
They were in a group of trees by the Hill. Sal stood, bound tightly, but still in control of himself. In front of him were the three hobbits, Parlond and, of course, Elessar. Parlond had offered to do this, but Elessar knew he had to be the one to kill Sal, otherwise he would never be able to forgive the one who did.
The hobbits wept, and clung to each other. This reunion was supposed to have been an occasion for joy, not the execution of a friend. Sam didn't know Sal like the others did, but he knew he was their friend, and that was enough.
Parlond placed a hand to his heart in a gesture of loyalty. His face was calm, but Sal could see that his eyes were wet. Only a few weeks ago he would have killed Sal as a traitor if they had met, yet now he was weeping at Sal's funeral.
All of those present were thinking about Sal, thinking about the things they had done together, the things they would never do again. Not Sal though. Sal was thinking of the grief his death would cause others. He thought of Rion and Rith, who thought he was just going away like he always did, who were expecting him to come back. He thought of his parents who he visited on most of his visits to the city. They didn't know the truth about Sal's exile, but they loved him still. Most of all he thought of Elessar. Elessar who had trained him and fought beside him, who had laughed with him and at him on more occasions than Sal could count. Elessar, his closest friend. He knew this would hurt him, and he wished there was another way.
They would burn his body, make sure that there was nothing left but ashes, and then they would build a cairn of stones over what was left. None of them would touch him. None of them would risk repeating this. Elessar had decided that the two pieces of fortune would be set in a clay tablet and placed at the head of cairn. His sword would remain by him forever.
Elessar's eyes were filled with tears as he placed an arrow on the string of his bow. It was better this way. There was no chance of blood touching anyone. Elessar drew back his bow, and Sal closed his eyes, waiting. The tears which blurred the king's eyes didn't do anything to ruin his aim.
Sal's death came so swiftly he didn't even feel the arrow strike.
THE END
Surprisingly enough there won't be a sequel, but I've already started work on my next story.
Thank you to those who've reviewed. The rest of you can read my next story and REVIEW!!! How am I supposed to improve if I don't get feedback? Thank you for bothering to read this far.