* click *
Okay, listen up all you Copyright Nazis: Lord of the Rings and all characters within do not belong to me in any size, shape or form! If you go and do something silly like, say, sue me, I'd be rather displeased and might have to give you a flamer. A bad one. With words in it like FAT! And STUPID! And YOU ARE THE WORST WRITER ON EARTH! And I might even refuse you your soup. I know. It's a little harsh, but these things must be done.
End.
*click *
Montaña del Condenada
So tired. . . so tired. . .we have been walking in this wilderness, my Sam and I, what seems like an eternity. The Ring . . . the Eye; I can feel it upon me; it watches me and I cannot escape it. It knows what I am doing, there's little doubt. It calls to me in my dreams, and in my wake, It sends Its servants to hunt me to my death . . . .
. . . I feel I can go no farther; no, not one step more. My feet resist any orders I give to them as the Ring drags me ever to the ground, doing its worst to keep me from my destination. I am so tired . . . why won't It just take me and let me rest? No.there will be no rest - I must keep going.
But Sam, oh my good Sam, dearer to me than all Hobbits! . . . though I cannot always see him, I know he is here with me. I can feel his arms about me as I walk and sense his presence next to me when I sleep. I have a premonition he has been withholding his share of the food for me, yet he still manages on, keeping his old, weary master on his feet even when he has no will himself. Where I would be had I left him there on the shores of the Anduin, I do not rightly know - dead most likely, though that is where I would rather be - oh Sam, Sam, what have I led you into? What turmoil has one innocent observation put upon your heart, even for my sake, that can never be driven away? And you bind yourself to me, to death, and I know you must fear tomorrow, (should it come), as I fear every drawing minute of the day. But you still love me. How can you be so steadfast, my dearest Sam?
My eyes are closing now . . . no amount of strength could prop them open. The Ring burns my flesh and it pains me . . . but it is so precious I could not stand to leave it for one moment. I feel Sam's hand taking mine, his lips brushing against my fingers . . . I must have been grasping again. I can't control it any longer. All my power has been bent towards staying alive, walking forward that I can no longer spare any for control for these digits. We have stopped. He is saying something . . . sleep? Is it finally time to sleep? No . . . no sleep, not yet. I must eat. The lembas taste like nothing but the water refreshes my throat, which has parched without my knowledge. One more swallow, he presses, and I submit wearily, reciting my mantra about sleep all the while. Finally he allows me to lie down, his cloak under my head. I stretch myself out on the cold ground, feeling time and space stand still about me. I drift off, but this does not suppress the evil thoughts that cascade into my mind. The Eye. The fire. The Ring. Demon faces, dark lands, black hands clutch at the chain around my neck. I tremble, partly from the cold of the night, partly from the mere sight of those hands which lunge out at me. But what is this? Warmth? There is a comforting warmth all around me . . . is it another dream? How could it be . . . the flames of the eye give off no heat and my dreams no longer contain comfort . . . I sigh. The dreams wrathfully continue playing in my mind. Oh but should this night end and my sleep extend for eternity!
***
Okay, listen up all you Copyright Nazis: Lord of the Rings and all characters within do not belong to me in any size, shape or form! If you go and do something silly like, say, sue me, I'd be rather displeased and might have to give you a flamer. A bad one. With words in it like FAT! And STUPID! And YOU ARE THE WORST WRITER ON EARTH! And I might even refuse you your soup. I know. It's a little harsh, but these things must be done.
End.
*click *
Montaña del Condenada
So tired. . . so tired. . .we have been walking in this wilderness, my Sam and I, what seems like an eternity. The Ring . . . the Eye; I can feel it upon me; it watches me and I cannot escape it. It knows what I am doing, there's little doubt. It calls to me in my dreams, and in my wake, It sends Its servants to hunt me to my death . . . .
. . . I feel I can go no farther; no, not one step more. My feet resist any orders I give to them as the Ring drags me ever to the ground, doing its worst to keep me from my destination. I am so tired . . . why won't It just take me and let me rest? No.there will be no rest - I must keep going.
But Sam, oh my good Sam, dearer to me than all Hobbits! . . . though I cannot always see him, I know he is here with me. I can feel his arms about me as I walk and sense his presence next to me when I sleep. I have a premonition he has been withholding his share of the food for me, yet he still manages on, keeping his old, weary master on his feet even when he has no will himself. Where I would be had I left him there on the shores of the Anduin, I do not rightly know - dead most likely, though that is where I would rather be - oh Sam, Sam, what have I led you into? What turmoil has one innocent observation put upon your heart, even for my sake, that can never be driven away? And you bind yourself to me, to death, and I know you must fear tomorrow, (should it come), as I fear every drawing minute of the day. But you still love me. How can you be so steadfast, my dearest Sam?
My eyes are closing now . . . no amount of strength could prop them open. The Ring burns my flesh and it pains me . . . but it is so precious I could not stand to leave it for one moment. I feel Sam's hand taking mine, his lips brushing against my fingers . . . I must have been grasping again. I can't control it any longer. All my power has been bent towards staying alive, walking forward that I can no longer spare any for control for these digits. We have stopped. He is saying something . . . sleep? Is it finally time to sleep? No . . . no sleep, not yet. I must eat. The lembas taste like nothing but the water refreshes my throat, which has parched without my knowledge. One more swallow, he presses, and I submit wearily, reciting my mantra about sleep all the while. Finally he allows me to lie down, his cloak under my head. I stretch myself out on the cold ground, feeling time and space stand still about me. I drift off, but this does not suppress the evil thoughts that cascade into my mind. The Eye. The fire. The Ring. Demon faces, dark lands, black hands clutch at the chain around my neck. I tremble, partly from the cold of the night, partly from the mere sight of those hands which lunge out at me. But what is this? Warmth? There is a comforting warmth all around me . . . is it another dream? How could it be . . . the flames of the eye give off no heat and my dreams no longer contain comfort . . . I sigh. The dreams wrathfully continue playing in my mind. Oh but should this night end and my sleep extend for eternity!
***