*Never feeling any pain…*
Gandalf the White stood on the battlements surrounding Minas Tirith, the air was warm and the light of the sun seemed to mock his worry of the shadows, but Gandalf had long ago learned that appearances could be deceiving. The warm breeze blew over him, and for a second he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to relax. Softly, a voice whispered in his ear
*Never feeling any pain…never growing old…*
The words were spoken in to his ear and he could almost feel the hot breath of the speaker brush against his ear. Startled, he turned around to find himself alone, cursing his lack of vigilance he turned back, anxious for a sign of the elves. The wind began to blow again, this time he heard footsteps, and whispers. The words were in the Black tongue, enticing and calling, the person drew near. Gandalf could almost taste the anticipation in the air. Turning back to the building he realised his own stupidity.
Disaster walked close on the heals of the ignorant.
Sauron was calling…
And he ran, hoping he wasn't too late…
******************
The fight was drawing nearer, and soon he would be strong enough to take back all that he had been denied. The Ringbearer was falling deeper in to the sleep, soon he would be safe, safe enough for Him to risk moving beyond. This hobbit, he had met before, it was easy to draw him to the doorway for he had been prepared when he had last looked through into the world of shadows. His curiosity was the final key.
Darkness is my home, and Fire is my weapon, using both I will break free, these mortal beings are easy to destroy, fire will burn the living flesh from their bones, torturing their minds to madness, Middle Earth will Burn in the Darkness.
I have waited a millennia, I have borne one fool after the other to reach this place and now the trap is almost ready to spring…
The gateway is ready to open.
***************
Pippin reached up and took the fabric in his hand, it was cold, cold as ice. The feel of it shocked him and he dropped it, all around him the air hissed and it began to grow hot, fear began to roil in his stomach and he realised what he was doing. He turned to go, certain that he would never leave the room alive, and cursed again his stupidity.
Three steps away from the door he stopped, not knowing why, he wheeled around began to walk back to the black marble plinth, as he drew near he watched as his arm reached out toward the fabric ready to tear it off.
Behind Pippin the door was pushed open and hit the wall with the sound of thunder, light falling across the floor Pippin stopped, the voices had stopped, voices he didn't remember hearing, words he couldn't understand. With a gasp of shock Pippin fell to the floor shivering. Gandalf watched, knowing how close they had come to losing. As Pippin hit the floor Gandalf swept forward and lifted him up, the air had turned cold, here in the vaults of the city the doors were kept shut, and no light reached these rooms. This was the reason they had chosen it. Down here the Palantir was shrouded and with no light it slept. Anyone staring in to the remaining Palantiri would move past Gondor, for it saw only light.
But this was not the Stone that Aragorn brought with him out of Orthanc, this was Denethor's Palantir, the old steward had died clutching it to his breast as he burned in the flames of his pyre.
Suddenly it began to come clear to Gandalf and holding Pippin closer to him he wheeled away and left the room, closing the door behind him leaving the room in darkness.
(sorry this one is so short, but this is where it starts to hot up, pardon the pun! Thankyou so much to everyone who has reviewed, I'm writing this for you guys, special thanks to Mainframe-I think I might be able to surprise you, I hope ;), RachelStoneBreaker-sometimes I don't even know who's thinking what, I promise to clean it all up after its finished. Huge thanks to everyone, this story was only gonna be nine chapters but I think its gonna end up more like 29! Sorry in advance)
Gandalf the White stood on the battlements surrounding Minas Tirith, the air was warm and the light of the sun seemed to mock his worry of the shadows, but Gandalf had long ago learned that appearances could be deceiving. The warm breeze blew over him, and for a second he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to relax. Softly, a voice whispered in his ear
*Never feeling any pain…never growing old…*
The words were spoken in to his ear and he could almost feel the hot breath of the speaker brush against his ear. Startled, he turned around to find himself alone, cursing his lack of vigilance he turned back, anxious for a sign of the elves. The wind began to blow again, this time he heard footsteps, and whispers. The words were in the Black tongue, enticing and calling, the person drew near. Gandalf could almost taste the anticipation in the air. Turning back to the building he realised his own stupidity.
Disaster walked close on the heals of the ignorant.
Sauron was calling…
And he ran, hoping he wasn't too late…
******************
The fight was drawing nearer, and soon he would be strong enough to take back all that he had been denied. The Ringbearer was falling deeper in to the sleep, soon he would be safe, safe enough for Him to risk moving beyond. This hobbit, he had met before, it was easy to draw him to the doorway for he had been prepared when he had last looked through into the world of shadows. His curiosity was the final key.
Darkness is my home, and Fire is my weapon, using both I will break free, these mortal beings are easy to destroy, fire will burn the living flesh from their bones, torturing their minds to madness, Middle Earth will Burn in the Darkness.
I have waited a millennia, I have borne one fool after the other to reach this place and now the trap is almost ready to spring…
The gateway is ready to open.
***************
Pippin reached up and took the fabric in his hand, it was cold, cold as ice. The feel of it shocked him and he dropped it, all around him the air hissed and it began to grow hot, fear began to roil in his stomach and he realised what he was doing. He turned to go, certain that he would never leave the room alive, and cursed again his stupidity.
Three steps away from the door he stopped, not knowing why, he wheeled around began to walk back to the black marble plinth, as he drew near he watched as his arm reached out toward the fabric ready to tear it off.
Behind Pippin the door was pushed open and hit the wall with the sound of thunder, light falling across the floor Pippin stopped, the voices had stopped, voices he didn't remember hearing, words he couldn't understand. With a gasp of shock Pippin fell to the floor shivering. Gandalf watched, knowing how close they had come to losing. As Pippin hit the floor Gandalf swept forward and lifted him up, the air had turned cold, here in the vaults of the city the doors were kept shut, and no light reached these rooms. This was the reason they had chosen it. Down here the Palantir was shrouded and with no light it slept. Anyone staring in to the remaining Palantiri would move past Gondor, for it saw only light.
But this was not the Stone that Aragorn brought with him out of Orthanc, this was Denethor's Palantir, the old steward had died clutching it to his breast as he burned in the flames of his pyre.
Suddenly it began to come clear to Gandalf and holding Pippin closer to him he wheeled away and left the room, closing the door behind him leaving the room in darkness.
(sorry this one is so short, but this is where it starts to hot up, pardon the pun! Thankyou so much to everyone who has reviewed, I'm writing this for you guys, special thanks to Mainframe-I think I might be able to surprise you, I hope ;), RachelStoneBreaker-sometimes I don't even know who's thinking what, I promise to clean it all up after its finished. Huge thanks to everyone, this story was only gonna be nine chapters but I think its gonna end up more like 29! Sorry in advance)