Author's note: Hey, thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed.

Hear that, Crimsonelf? READ and review. I don't mind if people don't like my story, in fact criticism helps me to know where I've screwed up. However, what's the point in reviewing a story if you can't be bothered to read it? I explained that I hadn't read all of the books and that I knew it was incorrect. I was brought up to speed by Artemis, who very kindly reviews all my chapters. Flame my story if you like, but READ it first and find out what's wrong with it. I don't give a damn about your personal dislikes, so don't bother moaning to me about them.

Anyway, I 'spose it's on with the next chapter. People are really not going to like me for this. But hey, I think an alliance between basically everyone against Sauron is pretty cool. I don't know if Galadriel can even fight, but it's MY fanfic, MY product of MY warped imagination. LOL. And I've changed Sauron's history for my story.
Lurtz and Uglúk lead the first batch of uruk-hai, now armoured and armed, down to the dungeons of Barad-Dur. They grunted and snarled on the way, as the winding corridors were a tight fit for two dozen large orcs who desired open battlefields.

"What are we doing to the prisoners?" one uruk asked from behind.

Uglúk answered, "Lord Sauron has no need for them any more. They will be executed and their meat shared around to his servants. Except for the she- elf. He wants 'er".

"Why did he want 'em alive in the first place?" another asked.

"Beats me", Uglúk shrugged wearily.

"Why not the she-elf?" wondered another uruk.

Lurtz snarled fiercely, "Keep your tongues inside your maggoty heads if you're going to question the Dark Lord. We are the fighting uruk-hai, not a rabble of pathetic goblins. We know our place".

There were no more questions, for the wrath of Lurtz was renowned amongst Sauron's forces. He never hesitated to decapitate or disembowel anyone who queried himself or his Master.

Uglúk roared in fury as they arrived at the cell. The two trolls lay slumped on the floor, their carcasses blood-stained. The door was open, the lock smashed on the floor. The cell was empty.

Lurtz leaped over the arm of one of the trolls and inspected the weapons- rack. The various swords, axes, daggers, bows, arrows and staffs were gone. There was no trail left on the stone floor for the uruks to find and follow.

The leader of the uruk-hai unsheathed his broad-bladed sword, wheeled around and bellowed, "Find the prisoners! Find the prisoners!"

***

Sméagol led the way for Frodo and his friends, down through the dungeons and corridors of Barad-Dûr, hopping and leaping through.

From the back, huffing and puffing, Gimli called, "In which direction are we headed. I want to see some orc-heads roll!"

Gandalf raised his hand, and the group halted, then he turned to Gimli and said, "No, Master Dwarf. We must escape from the Dark Tower and from the land of Mordor, and head for Minas Tirith".

Sméagol began dancing up and down excitedly, "Nice men, nice hobbits, nice elvses! We be nice to them and they be nice to us! But not orcses! Not ugly orcses like them!"

From behind a corner sprang twenty Moria orcs, brandishing scimitars. The goblins leaped past Sméagol and towards the warriors, gnashing their teeth and howling.

The lead orc was struck in the forehead by an arrow fired by Legolas. Another received an axe hurled by Gimli in its abdomen. But then the creatures engaged them at close-quarters, and the battle was brief, bloody and intense. Swords ripped orcs from stem to stern, arrows punctured hearts, axes hewed limbs and heads off.

The unsightly pile of disembowelled orcs leaked pools of black blood.

"Keep moving!" Gandalf urged, "That must have been a guard patrol. It is likely we will encounter more on the way out".

As they went, Pippin stumbled in the blood, but regained his balance and kept on going. Up ahead was a crossroad, where there were four different turnings. Gandalf paused at it for a second, then charged off down the one furthest on the left, followed by his companions.

***

Sauron was alone in the throne room of Barad-Dûr. He sat silent and contemplating, looking at the Ring on his finger.

He was thinking about his past.

He had not always been Sauron the Dark Lord of Mordor. He had once been pleasant to behold to the eye and pleasant to know. But then he had become enslaved by Morgoth.

Morgoth, the Dark Lord who had been his master. He remembered clearly the sight of his Lord when he first met him, a giant monster of a creature. Sauron had served him unconditionally and become his most trusted lieutenant. But deep down inside Sauron had always hated him. He had been glad when he had been destroyed. He had hated him for corrupting and enslaving him, hated him for opening him to the power of evil. Hated him for destroying his Jacashore.

Jacashore had been his wife, a beautiful wood-elf with long dark hair, deep brown eyes and always with a stunning smile on her face, for she was bright, cheerful and friendly to all. Sauron had loved her dearly.

But he was forced by Morgoth to leave behind all traces of his former identity to become his servant. He left behind Jacashore, but in his heart, black and cold and twisted though it was, he always yearned to one-day return to her. But it was not to be. Jacashore had been killed in Morgoth's war, and Sauron himself had found her body on the battlefield, a picture of tortured beauty, frozen forever in time by the sword of an orc.

From that moment on, Sauron knew there was nothing for him from his old life. He became even more cruel and vile, going to war for his master but secretly against him also. He knew that the power of the apprentice had outgrown that of the mentor, and he plotted and conspired alone to kill Morgoth and take his place as the Dark Lord of Middle-Earth. When Fingolfin had killed him instead, Sauron knew his time had come. He forgot all about Morgoth and Jacashore and released his wrath upon Middle-Earth.

But now seeing the she-elf in person bought back painful memories. She looked very much like Jacashore, dark hair, pale skin, slim and beautiful. Arwen, that was her name. He wanted her alive. Sauron, the Dark Lord, the Black Hand of Mordor, was going to claim what he considered the greatest prize of all. A new wife.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door swung open, and the orc Gorlash ran in.

"My Lord", he gasped, obviously he had been running, "The prisoners have escaped!"

Sauron was silent and still for a long time.

"My Lord?" Gorlash said.

Sauron still did not move, but whispered, "Find them".

***

Lurtz and Uglûk's command ran down the corridors, until at last they came upon the pile of ripped Moria orcs.

Uglûk kicked a carcass with disgust, "Goblins. Worthless guards and worse soldiers. They'd be better used as grub for the troops rather than warriors".

Lurtz shrugged and charged onwards, but halted as he came to the crossroads. He sniffed for a few seconds, then looked down. Hobbit footprints stained with blood went down the furthest corridor on the left.

Lurtz laughed harshly, "Some warriors. They've left a trail even a dwarf could follow. Let's go!"

The uruks charged on, following the black-blood marked foot stains.

One voiced a concern, "We can't take all of 'em on. We'd get slaughtered!"

Lurtz paused, "You're right", he conceded grudgingly, "You two! Head back, double pace, and get support to ambush 'em as they come out".

Two of the uruks turned about and dashed off. Lurtz grinned, then yelled, "Let's go!" and continued to lead his squadron forward.

***

Gandalf led the Fellowship, Arwen and Sméagol out of the winding corridors and out onto the open ash plains of Mordor.

"We have no hope of being undetected here", the wizard told them, "Our best hope is get out of here as soon as possible".

"How will we do that? The Black Gate of Mordor is closed", Legolas pointed out.

Gandalf did not answer. He raised his hands to his lips, formed a cup and whistled through his fingers. The cry was shrill and loud, yet so high- pitched none around him could hear it.

Merry looked up at him questioningly, "What was tha..."

"There they are! Get them!"

The company wheeled about to see two uruk-hai leading a squadron of heavily armoured and armed Easterlings directly at them.

In the next instance, Lurtz and Uglúk's band of uruks leapt out of the catacombs behind them, brandishing their swords and howling.

A shrill cry from above came. Nine huge, serpentine creatures with bat-like wings were descending upon them, craning their long necks and snapping their robust jaws. On each beast was a Nazgûl.

Gandalf thrust his staff at the Ringwraiths and uttered a low chant. The fell beasts hung back, snarling and hissing, but held off by some unseen force.

"Don't stand there gaping! Fight!" Gandalf said in a half-serious, half- humorous tone.

There was the ringing clash of weapons being drawn. Sméagol leapt up onto the face of an uruk and began clawing and biting. The orc went down, struggling to pry the creature off. Legolas fired his longbow again and again, felling several Easterlings before they reached him. Then he whipped his small dagger out and fought hand-to-hand with the powerful men. Arwen and Gimli fought the uruk-hai, the dwarf even throwing back Uglúk. Aragorn faced off with the brutal Lurtz, who was forced back by the Ranger's lightning quick-sword but did not lose confidence. The hobbits battled just as courageously as anyone else, stabbing with their short swords at Easterling and uruk alike.

But despite their efforts, the company could not hold back the hosts of Mordor. The Nazgûl, led by the Witch-king, mustered their bravery and swooped down towards Gandalf, who fought on desperately sword-to-sword with the wraiths. The Easterlings and uruk-hai were powerful and fearsome, and could not be disheartened. Aragorn went toppling over, pushed back by Lurtz. The giant orc roared and raised his sword, ready to deliver the final blow.

Suddenly, he dropped his sword and fell to his knees, flailing his brawny arms wildly. A host of eagles had descended upon the creatures of Mordor, led by Gwaihir, the giant lord of eagles. The feathered giants pecked and clawed at the infantry, then dived at the Nazgûl and their steeds, who fell back in panic.

With the enemy distracted, several eagles stooped down low, inviting Gandalf and his friends onto their backs. They leapt on, including Sméagol, who had to be coaxed on by Frodo for he was in great fear. As the Witch- king's and Lurtz's company retreated, the birds took flight, beating their great wings in an effort to escape as quickly as possible. And with good reason. It was not long before more orcs spotted them and fired a hail of arrows up at them. Two eagles spiralled to the ground and hit the floor with a sickening thud. The goblins swarmed over them to tuck into warm bird- flesh.

Gwaihir, who was bearing Gandalf, shuddered, "A finer pair of winged creatures there never were. No they are just a meal for scum".

Gandalf nodded, "It shall be so for all of Middle-Earth soon. Unless there is a way to stop the forces of Mordor".

"There may well be", Gwaihir mused.

"What's that?" Pippin yelled, gesturing to just beyond the gates of Mordor.

A great army was assembled. From a distance the distinctive different types of house patterns could be seen. Elves of Rivendell and Lothlorién. Knights of Gondor. Riders of Rohan.

Arwen gasped. Gimli began to laugh heartily. Merry and Pippin hugged each other. Gandalf and Aragorn smiled at each other.

The wizard winked, "Now may well be the time of Sauron's demise".

The eagles headed for the amassed army, who cheered at the sight. Odds of victory were low, but spirits were high. Sauron had cause to fear those of the West.