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Thank you to my latest reviewers: Andraste, tbiris, Fairylady, Elisabeth-
Morninstar, MoroTheWolfGod and a person named bob.
~ Chapter Three: Illusions of the mind
(Aragorn POV)
There it is, the blight on the landscape that is Orthanc Tower. It was once mighty, and spectacular, but now darkness enshrouds it. The black marble gleams in the sunlight, yet no sun can be seen reflecting off it.
My friend is inside somewhere, being interrogated by Saruman and orcs with hot pokers. Ah, my vivid imagination always conjures up the worse things possible. Or maybe his mangled body is lying on the floor, dead.
Stop it Aragorn! I tell myself. Legolas is alive, and is fine.
Dismounting Brego, I decided to walk the rest of the way to Isengard. A horse would be too conspicuous. I will have to sneak through the burnt and scorched landscape, hiding behind rocks.
Taking a deep breath, I prowled forward with stealth well taught by my years of exile in the wilderness.
~
(Legolas POV)
The blow never came.
I felt forward, ready to thank Aragorn with all my heart for sparing me, but all I felt with my hands was the black, cold floor of Orthanc. The sand was gone. The audience was gone. And Aragorn? He was gone too.
"You tricked me!" I bellowed, spinning around, trying to hear Saruman approaching.
"I did nothing of the sort, I would have thought you'd realize they were simple illusions," came the whisper in my ear. "I'm disappointed with you, Prince. You were fighting well until that little noble spell you had. Were I anyone else, I would be touched by your loyalty towards the human. Such... adoration." Saruman's ice-cold fingers were on my cheek, chilling me in a way that I had never known.
"Such love for such a worthless, pathetic"-
"STOP IT!" I shouted punching thin air.
There was a hollow cackle from the Istari and I glowered at nothing.
"Spineless, mortal man!" he spat.
"You're half the wizard that Gandalf is!" I cried, provoking his anger, but in my rush to upset him I forgot one thing.
"Is?" he asked. "Gandalf defeated the Balrog?"
I nodded slowly.
Saruman snarled and I was flung against the wall and then dropped, sliding to the floor. My leg cracked and I gasped in pain.
"You do not know pain, you do not know suffering until now!" Saruman bellowed. I could hear him walking towards me now, but I could not move. "I could slowly suffocate, drown, crush or burn you to death. I could make it painfully slow. Do not insult me; elf, or you punishment will be one of the aforementioned. Do you understand me?"
I nodded slowly and my head was whipped back against the wall. He released it and I dropped it, spitting out the coppery taste of blood.
"Do. You. Understand. Me?" Saruman hissed.
"Yes," I croaked.
"Now open your mouth," he instructed, his voice kinder now. Benevolent, but underneath I could still trace the pernicious currents. "I need you blood," was all he said.
I sat there for a while, feeling the blood drip out of my mouth. Finally the wound healed and Saruman backed away from me. "Tiax!" he called.
The Uruk-hai lumbered into the room. "Take him to his room. And try not to harm him."
"Yes milord." He bowed and with unusual, delicate actions, Tiax picked me up and carried me like a babe to his chest through the corridors.
Finally, he opened and door and carrying me in, deposited me gently on a bed. "Sleep Legolas," said a warm voice. "You are tired. Very tired."
Sliding awkwardly underneath the velvet covers, I rested my weary head on a plump pillow filled with duck feathers, and slept.
~ (Aragorn's POV)
Isengard's caverns were empty. Strangely empty. I do not know whether the orcs were merely hiding, or whether they had all gone with the march to Helm's Deep or had gone to Mordor.
The door to Orthanc was wide open; the mouth of the tower seemed to be whispering for me to come in. So I did.
With cautious steps I entered Orthanc and the first room I entered was a hexagon shape, with three main doors. On one side was a large throne made from black steel that glowed dimly by the light of the torches hanging off the wall.
In the middle was a pedestal. Something was covered in black silk, so I went to it. I could just make out a spherical shape underneath.
"A Palantir is a dangerous tool, Saruman," and before my very eyes I saw Gandalf and Saruman walk into the room. But the air around them was blurred, misted, it was old.
There was nowhere to go so I stood more or less, in the middle of the room as Saruman uncovered the sphere. It was a black globe, inside it was cloudy, dark shapes were moving uneasily.
"Why? Why should we fear to use it?" Saruman asked looking into the stone with a slight smile that looked alien on his features.
"They are not all accounted for, the Lost Seeing Stones. You do not know who else may be watching." And with that Gandalf replaced the cover, as his hand briefly touched the Palantir, an image flashed through my mind. The eye of Sauron.
Saruman smirked and sat down in the throne, even as he spoke and moved, his movements seemed to thin and become quieter.
"The hour is later than you think. Sauron's forces are already moving. The Nine have left Minas Morgul....." Then they were gone.
"What devilry is this?" I whispered.
"Illusions," the air whispered. Then before me, I saw the air mould into a shape: it was Saruman.
~
REVIEW PLEASE!
I will love you for ever and ever..
Many thanks again to Annaicuru and KayteUnfading.
~ Chapter Three: Illusions of the mind
(Aragorn POV)
There it is, the blight on the landscape that is Orthanc Tower. It was once mighty, and spectacular, but now darkness enshrouds it. The black marble gleams in the sunlight, yet no sun can be seen reflecting off it.
My friend is inside somewhere, being interrogated by Saruman and orcs with hot pokers. Ah, my vivid imagination always conjures up the worse things possible. Or maybe his mangled body is lying on the floor, dead.
Stop it Aragorn! I tell myself. Legolas is alive, and is fine.
Dismounting Brego, I decided to walk the rest of the way to Isengard. A horse would be too conspicuous. I will have to sneak through the burnt and scorched landscape, hiding behind rocks.
Taking a deep breath, I prowled forward with stealth well taught by my years of exile in the wilderness.
~
(Legolas POV)
The blow never came.
I felt forward, ready to thank Aragorn with all my heart for sparing me, but all I felt with my hands was the black, cold floor of Orthanc. The sand was gone. The audience was gone. And Aragorn? He was gone too.
"You tricked me!" I bellowed, spinning around, trying to hear Saruman approaching.
"I did nothing of the sort, I would have thought you'd realize they were simple illusions," came the whisper in my ear. "I'm disappointed with you, Prince. You were fighting well until that little noble spell you had. Were I anyone else, I would be touched by your loyalty towards the human. Such... adoration." Saruman's ice-cold fingers were on my cheek, chilling me in a way that I had never known.
"Such love for such a worthless, pathetic"-
"STOP IT!" I shouted punching thin air.
There was a hollow cackle from the Istari and I glowered at nothing.
"Spineless, mortal man!" he spat.
"You're half the wizard that Gandalf is!" I cried, provoking his anger, but in my rush to upset him I forgot one thing.
"Is?" he asked. "Gandalf defeated the Balrog?"
I nodded slowly.
Saruman snarled and I was flung against the wall and then dropped, sliding to the floor. My leg cracked and I gasped in pain.
"You do not know pain, you do not know suffering until now!" Saruman bellowed. I could hear him walking towards me now, but I could not move. "I could slowly suffocate, drown, crush or burn you to death. I could make it painfully slow. Do not insult me; elf, or you punishment will be one of the aforementioned. Do you understand me?"
I nodded slowly and my head was whipped back against the wall. He released it and I dropped it, spitting out the coppery taste of blood.
"Do. You. Understand. Me?" Saruman hissed.
"Yes," I croaked.
"Now open your mouth," he instructed, his voice kinder now. Benevolent, but underneath I could still trace the pernicious currents. "I need you blood," was all he said.
I sat there for a while, feeling the blood drip out of my mouth. Finally the wound healed and Saruman backed away from me. "Tiax!" he called.
The Uruk-hai lumbered into the room. "Take him to his room. And try not to harm him."
"Yes milord." He bowed and with unusual, delicate actions, Tiax picked me up and carried me like a babe to his chest through the corridors.
Finally, he opened and door and carrying me in, deposited me gently on a bed. "Sleep Legolas," said a warm voice. "You are tired. Very tired."
Sliding awkwardly underneath the velvet covers, I rested my weary head on a plump pillow filled with duck feathers, and slept.
~ (Aragorn's POV)
Isengard's caverns were empty. Strangely empty. I do not know whether the orcs were merely hiding, or whether they had all gone with the march to Helm's Deep or had gone to Mordor.
The door to Orthanc was wide open; the mouth of the tower seemed to be whispering for me to come in. So I did.
With cautious steps I entered Orthanc and the first room I entered was a hexagon shape, with three main doors. On one side was a large throne made from black steel that glowed dimly by the light of the torches hanging off the wall.
In the middle was a pedestal. Something was covered in black silk, so I went to it. I could just make out a spherical shape underneath.
"A Palantir is a dangerous tool, Saruman," and before my very eyes I saw Gandalf and Saruman walk into the room. But the air around them was blurred, misted, it was old.
There was nowhere to go so I stood more or less, in the middle of the room as Saruman uncovered the sphere. It was a black globe, inside it was cloudy, dark shapes were moving uneasily.
"Why? Why should we fear to use it?" Saruman asked looking into the stone with a slight smile that looked alien on his features.
"They are not all accounted for, the Lost Seeing Stones. You do not know who else may be watching." And with that Gandalf replaced the cover, as his hand briefly touched the Palantir, an image flashed through my mind. The eye of Sauron.
Saruman smirked and sat down in the throne, even as he spoke and moved, his movements seemed to thin and become quieter.
"The hour is later than you think. Sauron's forces are already moving. The Nine have left Minas Morgul....." Then they were gone.
"What devilry is this?" I whispered.
"Illusions," the air whispered. Then before me, I saw the air mould into a shape: it was Saruman.
~
REVIEW PLEASE!
I will love you for ever and ever..
Many thanks again to Annaicuru and KayteUnfading.
