Author's note: Thanks to Artemis, The Puppet Killer, Skull Bearer and Matita Pere for reviewing. I will explain what happened to Gollum soon. The story will end happily, I promise!

The fortress of Barad-Dûr was treated to a sight it had not seen for three thousand years. The Dark Lord Sauron walked through its winding corridors, which were lined by a seemingly endless mass of Mordor orcs, saluting him as he passed.

Following behind him were several other figures. First and foremost was Saruman, the white wizard who had taken orders from Sauron. At his side was Grima Wormtongue, who had once been the adviser to the King of Rohan, but had secretly been in league with Saruman.

Two larger and more physically imposing beings followed behind. They were orcs, but somewhat greater than their Mordor relatives. Lurtz and Uglúk, the sole survivors of the fighting Uruk-Hai, growled and snarled at their rudimentary predecessors as they passed them. The war-hardened leaders had been the only Uruk-Hai to return from the Battle for Helm's Deep.

Sauron entered his throne room, and crossed to his black and grey chair. The throne was decorated with a twisted, sickening form of art, like that of Sauron's armour. The Lord of Mordor sat down, facing his companions, who bowed down to him elaborately.

"What is thy bidding, my Lord?" Saruman chorused.

Sauron looked at Lurtz, "I command a military update, orc".

Lurtz's distaste at the word was only too obvious, but even the fierce and impulsive Uruk-Hai knew better than to antagonise the Black Hand of Mordor, "The orc armies are too weak to conquer land and then rule it. They are strong in number but not individually. They are incapable".

Uglúk growled in agreement.

Sauron did not reply, instead he raised his armoured head and roared, "Gorlash!"

An orc burst into the room and bowed.

"Gorlash, take five thousand troops and harvest the riches of Mordor. Set the troops to work, building a factory to breed an army of Uruk-Hai".

The orc hesitated, seeing the triumphant smiles on the faces of Lurtz and Uglúk and detesting them, but then remembered his priority and wheeled around and scuttled off to do his Master's bidding.

Sauron looked back at Lurtz, "The orcs will conquer the land whilst the Uruk-Hai army grows here. When you are strong enough in number, you shall occupy the lands and rule with an iron fist. The Uruk-Hai will have their day".

Lurtz and Uglúk howled in favour. Saruman cleared his throat, "My Lord, I have another pressing matter to bring to your attention", he removed a parchment from his robes and unrolled it, revealing a map of Middle-Earth, which he pointed to as he spoke, "I think it would be wise if we kept our troops flowing in all directions rather than concentrate on one. We do not want any resistance building up. Already, borders are falling and kingdoms are collapsing. Gondor will be first. Followed by."

He gasped and dropped the scroll as it burst into flames. It fell to the floor, twisting and crackling as it burnt. Yet somehow it remained undamaged. The flame disappeared in a puff of smoke, and the map was left intact.

But it was different.

The borders of kingdoms and lands had gone, the labelling and annotations no more. In there place was one simple word that presided over all of the diagram of Middle-Earth:

Mordor.

"It matters not which lands I attack first, Saruman the White", Sauron boomed, "My mistake of the past was to leave the details to my minions. I intend to correct this error. I will be at the head of the orc army. Why should I leave my campaign to lesser minds?"

Saruman, Grima and the two Uruk-Hai each felt the eyes of red flame pass over them, branding them each insignificant and foolish.

Sauron rose off his throne, armour and chain mail clanking, and pointed at Lurtz and Uglúk, "You two, bring some of the prisoners to me".

There was a pause, which was eventually broken when Uglúk ventured, "Which, my Lord?"

"The former Ring bearer", Sauron roared, "The she-elf. And", he clenched a giant fist into a tight ball of metal, "Isildur's heir!"

***

Aragorn awoke. His mouth was thick with blood, his vision blurred by the crimson liquid. He wiped at his face so as to clarify where he was, and discovered he was in a dirty, derelict cell that looked like it had not been used for thousands of years, which it probably hadn't. He could not see more than a few feet ahead of him.

Something stirred in the darkness.

His hand flew to the hilt of his sword, or where it would have been if the sheath were not empty. He braced himself, ready for an attack from whatever monstrous creature he was being forced to face.

"He's awake!"

He instantly recognized the voice.

"Arwen!"

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out his love. Also, several other figures, and it became clear that they were his companions. They were all slouched down, weapon-less, bruised and bloody, but alive. Which was more than could be said for the majority of those who had faced Sauron in combat.

A dull flame flickered outside the cell bars, produced by a torch. Aragorn could make out two huge, bulky figures silhouetted against the fire.

"Those are our guards", Gandalf said, sensing Aragorn's curiosity at them, "Trolls".

There were numerous grunts and snorts coming from the beasts, and the sickening crunch of bones. It was evident that they were devouring some creature, probably an orc, that had been fed to them.

"Where are our weapons?" Aragorn asked.

"On a rack just beyond the trolls", Legolas answered.

Aragorn looked at his friends. Each were deep in their own thoughts. Gimli was furious at their capture and wanted desperately to escape and take some of Sauron's minions down with him. Legolas and Gandalf were subdued physically, but inside both were racking their brains to find a means of escape. Frodo was bitterly blaming himself for their capture and the return of Sauron. Sam, Merry and Pippin were scared in a way they had never felt possible. And Arwen was concerned for Aragorn, for he had received the worst blow from Sauron in their battle.

Their musings were interrupted by a roar from the trolls as they rose to their feet. Two Uruk-Hai unlocked the cell door and stood there, growling.

The hobbits quickly scrambled to their feet, but none of the others seemed to take great notice in the two orcs as they stepped forward. Lurtz grabbed Frodo by the shirt and pushed him out of the cell roughly. Arwen got the same treatment.

Uglúk glared down at Aragorn and barked, "Get up!"

Aragorn looked up defiantly.

Uglúk did not like the rebellious blaze he saw in Aragorn's eyes. He hissed and gave the Ranger a brutal kick to the ribs.

Aragorn leapt up and punched the Uruk-Hai squarely in its hideous face. Uglúk was unprepared for the vicious assault, and fell back, one huge fang dropping to the floor from his mouth. Lurtz roared and threw himself at Aragorn. Gimli shot to his feet and barred the way, but Lurtz sidestepped and seized Aragorn by the throat before head-butting him, rendering him unconscious.

***

When the Strider awoke, he was moving, but not of his own free will. He was being dragged along dreary corridors by the two orcs, along with Arwen and Frodo. Up ahead was a black double-door.

Lurtz and Uglúk shoved them through, then turned and left, closing the doors after them. Aragorn struggled to stand upright, still dazed from his reprimand from the Uruk leader. He could see he was in a dark, black room, which was only lit by two torches on the wall. Twisted art decorated the walls.

Sauron laughed.

He was facing them, sitting on his throne. They were alone with the Dark Lord of Mordor.

He rose up and stomped forward, heavy footfalls meeting the floor with a crash. When he was within a few feet of Frodo, he looked down at the hobbit from his great height.

"Frodo Baggins of the Shire", he mocked, "Frodo Baggins, former Ring- bearer".

The hobbit glared up at the Dark Lord, searching deep within himself for any stores of confidence he had left.

Sauron inspected the index finger of his right hand, on which was the Ring, "We thank thee, Frodo, for the absolute loyalty with which you carried out your duty".

Frodo felt an unease devouring his confidence. There was something about the way Sauron praised him he found terrifying, more so than the ex-God's mace or even Ring.

Sauron leaned down to the young halfling, "But now the task is lifted. The Ring is back in the hands of its Master, and you have done well, o faithful servant of Mordor".

Frodo collapsed. He hit the floor hard and began weeping. Sauron had nearly broken his will.

"And now, you can prove your allegiance to us by joining the ranks of the Black Riders", he gloated.

From the shadows of the room emerged nine figures. Neither Aragorn or Arwen had been aware of the presence of the Nazgûl, and watched in fear as they melted out of the darkness. They skulked up to behind their Master.

The Witchking, leader of the Nazgûl, reached inside his robes and produced a knife, a murderous-looking weapon. The dull knife was held firmly in the Wraith's hand as he descended towards Frodo, the point of the blade aimed at his heart.

Sauron hissed, "Hold still, my friend, because this is going to hurt."

Aragorn leaped towards one of the torches on the wall, unhooked it and lunged at the Witchking. The Ringwraiths screeched and scattered as the Strider swung the blaze back and forth, warding the Black Riders off.

Stepping forward, Sauron glared at his minions, "Fools. Fire is not a thing to fear for the servants of the Dark Lord of Mordor. I can twist it to my own use, just as I can anything or anyone. Observe".

With that, the flame stretched and grew, to the size of the room, forming a great and hideous, fiery shape. From a bulky body stretched a pair of bat- like wings, flapping steadily. Two huge burly arms reached for Frodo, Arwen and Aragorn, in one hand was a whip and in the other a sword of flame. The hideous, horned head leaned closer and closer, and the great jaws opened, unleashing a roar that belonged to the depths of the earth.

And then the balrog was gone. The fire on the torch was snuffed out. The Nazgûl took their positions once more around Sauron, who stepped forward.

Arwen hastily helped Frodo to his feet. Aragorn barred the way between the Dark Lord and the hobbit and elf.

"Do not you fear me. Aragorn son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur?" the demy- God demanded to know of the Ranger.

"No".

A throaty roar came from Sauron. He reached down for Aragorn, cursing.

"Why did you summon us here? Simply to kill us? Wouldn't it have been easier to kill us all in the cell?" Aragorn remained unabashed as he faced Sauron.

The armoured monster before him reeled back as if hit. He could never comprehend the defiant insolence of Isildur's heirs, and it was greater with this one more so than any he had observed. The idea of him being questioned by a far weaker creature troubled the Dark Lord.

His gaze suddenly went to Arwen, and there it lingered for a few seconds, as if studying her. Then he stepped back as if greatly stunned, and he sat down heavily on his throne.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation he bellowed, "Lurtz! Uglúk!"

The two Uruk-Hai entered the room hastily.

"Take them back to the dungeon".

Lurtz looked at Uglúk and Uglúk at Lurtz, the two obviously not expecting to see the prisoners in one piece. Lurtz grunted and shrugged, then grabbed Aragorn and dragged him away, and Uglúk did the same to Arwen and Frodo.

But as they went, Sauron and Aragorn exchanged a final glance and, although all would find it hard to believe, the Dark Lord seemed to shrink back from the triumphant glint in the Ranger's eyes.