Sorry it took a bit longer than I planned but I wanted to get my hands on
the book 2 of Lord of the Rings before starting on the seventh chapter.
There is a map inside it and since I'm referring to tons of places and that
it's been decades since I last read the books, I wanted to have the map to
be sure of the whereabouts of the villages and such. Also, my internet went
down so I wanted to publish it at school but couldn't because the key
boards don't have any 'a' commercial. Gomen!
I think I'm going to kill my computer. When I wrote Tom's songs, I centred them and changed line at each verse but that PIECE OF CRAP of a computer squeezed them all on the side and in one sentence. He's seriously going down the drain, I'm sick of it ruining my work. ARGH! (Whacks the screen in frustration.) I'm not even sure if he wrote 'piece of crap' and 'argh' larger than my current writing. If not, he's earning himself a major punishment. ;Sigh; Well, if he thinks he's going to stop me from typing, he's in for a match. I'll give his memory cards something to remember! Oh my, I'm losing it. (Shakes head furiously.) Enough of my rambling, on with the story.
//Oh and by the way, please read the comments marked with slashes (/). They are important information for the rest of the story. It'll prevent you from asking questions that I already gave the answer previously. Same thing for my notes at the end. The unmarked paragraphs are just my rambling, I don't really mind if they aren't read (Even though they sometime give info on a more personal basis.)
//So, if you've read all of my author's note and the marked one above, you'll know why I'm repeating myself. Trowa and Quatre are NOT going to be in this fic apart from a small part at the end. That's ALL. I don't like playing with them. Heero, Duo and Wufei are my favourites. They'll always appear in my Gundam fics.
Chapter 7: Read the author's note third chapter.
The clicking sound of metal against rock could be heard down the pitch- black corridor. The hall was totally bare except a few cobwebs long deserted. Nobody was allowed in the creepy passage and nobody wanted to visit anyway. Due to the absence of cleaning committee a few daring spiders had crept in the corners only to die of starvation. Nothing got in, not even the smallest fly. Nothing except one.
A small flickering orange light moved at the farthest end of the corridor. The light didn't give any warmth as it was quickly wolfed down by the surrounding coldness. The figure walking didn't mind though, it kept on advancing, holding the small candle before him. The man walked, the metal heel of his boots clicking against the smooth black stone. A heavy black cloak bordered by blood-red fur hung on his broad shoulders, attached by a golden brooch encrusted with seemingly blood-red gems. He wore black clothing and at his waist hung a sharp-edge sword, sheath embedded with silver markings. He proudly wore a crown made of pure mythril on his forehead. Around his neck was a silver choker also made of mythril. In the centremost large ring was a fiery gem with a black iris like a dragon's which shown from it's depth.
The Lord felt cold course through his vein but paid it no heed. With is free gloved hand he pulled his cloak closer about him to stop his unconscious shivering. He felt his hands trembled as he pushed a stray lock of his raven black hair behind his ear. Unlike the majority of his men who kept their long hair in braids, he kept them short except for two long strands that framed his grave features and passed over his silvery blue crown. He usually let them hung loosely but right now, as he felt the cold gripping his heart deepen, preferred to leave them behind his ears in order not to have them clinging on his skin because of his cold sweat.
As he neared his destination, not only cold but fear also made itself known. Not that there was anything to fear but this had been Sauron's chambers and his imposing presence was still felt. Yet, he walked resolutely towards the now visible doorway. When he came level to it, he had to stop.
Standing on each side like silent guardians was two cruel looking two- headed dragon statues. While one head look down the hallway, the other looked at the opposite wall. Their mouths were open in a wicked grin, exposing the fangs and tongue. They stood on a black pedestal; their claws as big as man's fist clutching the stone as if to break it and their spike covered tails framed the heavy oak doors.
The King brought his free hand forward but it was shot back with a shock. A red light flickered in the eyes socket of the dragons than grew until they became a light themselves. A load hiss coming from their stony mouth echoed down the hall and the Lord backed a couple of steps, his candle falling from his nerveless fingers and blacked out. Pulling himself together, the man stared at the vengeful irises staring at him and slowly advanced once again. Stopping just before the invisible barrier, he took the glove off his right hand, tucked it in his belt and levelled his hand toward the eyes. Brows creased in concentration, he slowly summoned hidden power. Small and flickering at first, a white light formed in the palm of his hand and quickly grew. It was soon dazzling and the red eyes quivered as if blinking to shield of the attacker. They, too, grew in intensity, holding their own against the powerful whiteness as a silent match was engaged. The King, sweating, brought his left hand up and grabbed his right wrist for support. He took a deep breath and with a scream made the white light double in brightness. The bloody irises quivered and the statues shrieked, but this time in fear and despair and then blacked out. The Lord lowered his hands, sweaty and panting. It was becoming more difficult every day to get passed the stony guardians, as if his arrival provided them power. Not waiting for them to awaken, he lowered and grabbed the candle from the ground. He breathed once over the candle and it crackled back to life, giving him back a little bit of light.
The room inside was very big but held little things. Although the room was deep underground, a small cave had been dug in the roof to let moonlight stream in and fall straight in a basin in the middle of the room. The container was carved in white marble that came horribly in contrast with the black stone that made the walls. The base was encrusted with smoked- black diamonds. On a hook hung a small dagger. The blade was filled with markings made of the same melted smocked diamond that decorated the base. The container was full of black liquid that seemed to repeal the moonlight pouring in it.
The King, still trying to catch his breath, walked to the basin and stared at it for some time. Then, he grabbed the dagger, brought it to his wrist, cut the flesh and let his blood trickle into the black liquid. As soon as the first droplet mixed with the water, it started to shimmer and change from deep black to pure white. The Lord watched carefully until the water settled and showed him what he wished to see.
Two figures walked silently in the hills of the South Downs. A longhaired boy rode a beautiful black red-manned stallion while the other looked ahead darkly from his chestnut mare. The King cursed inwardly. The fools of knights he had had let them escape. Just when he was about to change scene, the stern looking boy turned and //looked straight at him//. The Lord backed away but couldn't tear his gaze from the cobalt-blue eyes staring at him. Then, the braided boy turned and asked a question to his friend. The shorthaired looked away and shook his head negatively. Pity he could only see and not hear. The blue-eyed boy didn't turn back but watched the King from the corner of his eyes murderously.
The Lord frowned and made the scene change. Another boy was ridding a silver horse that ran so fast that even through his mirror the image was blurred. //A Mearas?// wondered the man thoughtfully. //How is that possible, they do not exist anymore!// Then a memory appeared from the depth of his mind. A cowering spy had told him of the horse and it's abilities and wildness. //How can the boy have tamed it? He too will ruin my plan if he isn't eliminated, I can sense it. A strange trio we have here: a boy with the voice of the Devil, one that appears to feel my eye watching him and the other taming untameable creatures. This is going to be more difficult than I expected.//
Deciding to ponder on that later, the King tried to make the mirror show him the future but failed miserably. The fight against the guardians had drained him and just keeping a watch on the present happenings was a struggle. He cursed and released himself from the bound between him and the mirror. Soon, if the statues outside continued to demand more strength to get passed, he wouldn't be able to gaze in the mirror of Sauron anymore. He'd have to strengthen his technique; otherwise he would have to abandon the beautiful gift Sauron had left behind.
After a deep sight, he passed trough the doors and the guardians. The dragons, only being able to keep someone out and not in, could only shriek at his passing.
" Oh shut up." Muttered absent-mindedly the King in his deep voice, knowing perfectly well they didn't understand and give a damn.
He dragged his tired feet down the corridor, feeling warmth in his blood again. What a tiring reading it had been this time. The Lord secretly whished for his soft bed but berated himself instantly. //These thoughts are not suiting for a King,// he thought bitterly. Sometimes he just wished to take his mythril crown and hand it to someone else but he had an important duty to accomplish that held him in position.
When he passed the guards standing outside the doorway to the corridor he felt them stiffen and straighten up from their usual slouch. He smirked inwardly. They didn't have a clue of how much he wouldn't have cared of he had found them snoring on the ground. He had unconsciously straightened up too; to keep an imposing figure but he felt the exact opposite of it. He didn't even felt like torturing Lent, which he did himself. It was a good way of passing his frustration. The boy had dared to come back after failing to kill the braided boy. The King smiled maliciously as he thought of ways to torture the boy the next day. People hurried out of his way in fright when they saw the maniac look in his eyes.
The sadistic side of the Lord came back to life but still couldn't suppress his need to rest. He would have so much fun tomorrow.
********
Legolas yawned openly. It was late at night and he still hadn't finished his guarding tour. Aragorn had been very edgy and had insisted on keeping a constant watch in Rivendel while a swarm of riders had gone off on the hunt for the two missing spies. Spies yes, for it was what they were believed to be. The elf doubted it though. He had heard Duo's desperate speech to his horse and it had set his mind in a friendly way. That was the only reason why he put up with this ridiculous chase. If he were the one to find the boys, he would keep them safe from Aragorn's wrath and question them his own way.
He often asked himself why he just didn't tell Aragorn about what he heard Duo say but always came with the same answer. What right had he to go and reveal one's most secret thoughts? Who was he to go and pour one's heart for everyone to know? It would be worse than any treason or blasphemy, it would deserve death. Also, Legolas had eavesdropped his conversation when it was plain the boy hadn't wanted to tell them and the elf could have easily blocked his earring. He felt very bad about that so he found it his responsibility to keep everything secret and keep the boy safe. He had managed to convince a fair few elves to help him in keeping them out of danger's way if ever they found them without telling the elves any of Duo's words. He was secretly proud of that. How much he had changed since the start of the quest against Sauron!
*********
//This place is creepy.//
Wufei let Shadowfax graze freely while he stood before the silky black tower jutting out of the earth like a fang. It was high but narrow and at it's top was a crown of four spikes. The rays of the evening sun reflected on its smooth material like a blazing inferno. Contrarily to the ruins covering the ground around it, the tower was perfectly intact and unchanged. A circle had been dug around it and Wufei got the impression that it was meant to keep any intruder inside and not out.
Curiosity getting the best of him, he stepped down the trench and up. The door to the tower swung on his hinges with a squeeking sound at each movement. The Chinese boy passed it but stopped when he heard a whinnying sound. He looked back to see Shadowfax thrusting his head up and down nervously as if saying to the boy not to go in.
" Don't worry, I won't be long. Anyway, this place has been deserted for quite some time by the looks of it." He said reassuringly to the horse that only insisted more.
Ignoring his warning, Wufei stepped inside. The only passage was the long mounting staircase. The boy climbed it carefully, feeling the moss against his searching fingers as he made his way in total darkness. There were no windows to let light inside and the torches that lined the walls were long dead. Still, when he reached the end of the stairs, he could see a small rectangular line of light indicating the presence of a door. He reached for the doorknob but a wave of uncertainty washed over him. He suddenly didn't feel like entering the room, to peer at its secret contain. He backed a step but shook is head vigorously. He twisted the doorknob and pushed the creaking door.
Windows surrounded the room, one facing each cardinal direction. Sun entered through the West one to enlighten the contain of the room. Shelves upon shelves lined the walls and about ten different chests stood around the walls. Wufei walked around, peering at the books on the shelves, some in languages he could read and others he couldn't. He was taken back when he found a few written in Chinese and even Japanese. Others he could guess were in Latin, Spanish and French. That's when he discovered that the score of books between the North and East windows were all written in a language from Earth while the others were in letters from Middle Earth. The English books didn't surprise him since the people here spoke it but how could they have books written in languages that weren't even used anymore on Earth, like the old Britain?
//So, we have a deeper connection with the people of Middle Earth than I thought.// he wondered.
Deciding to marvel on that detail later, he searched in the chests. The majority of them held clothes while the other had ornaments and one even had other books in it. (In Italian and Russian.) Under the South window was a beautiful oak desk. Something caught Wufei's eye. Beside it, on a golden hook hung a brilliant necklace. The boy looked closer and saw that the fine chain was made of a bluish material that looked like silver and gold intertwined together. The chain held a small tree made of jade with an eight-pointed star made of diamond incrusted in it. Beside it two other tiny tear-shaped diamonds reflected the fading light.
Wufei gasped. It was a beautiful necklace. He took it gently between trembling fingers. The chain didn't weight a thing and felt slick on his skin. Although it was barely larger that a few hairs put together he knew it was strong and wouldn't break easily. Something reassuring flowed through his vein as the prickling sensation down his spine disappeared. He had felt his hair stand on end the moment he had entered and it didn't leave all the while he was prowling around.
Looking around as if expecting to see someone burst in he tied the chain around his neck, feeling the gentle cooling sensation against his skin. The moment he let it go a tiny voice softly spoke to him.
//Robber, you robber. Steeling from one's abandoned home. Burglar, thief! No honour for you.//
Wufei shivered. Yes, he was steeling but from who? Judging by the cobwebs covering the roof nobody had been home for quite some time. Maybe they were gone someplace else? But why abandon such a beautiful thing and all the probably valuable possession that held this room? The boy's eyes roamed around until he spotted a small book lying on the desk. It was made of rich red velvet and on the cover was written in gold letters 'JOURNAL'. The Chinese took it and stared at it for some time.
//Robbing again you little burglar?// mocked the maddening voice in his head.
Wufei shook his head. //No. They wouldn't have left it there if they valued it and if it was secret.// quieting the voice, he shoved the small book in one of his pocket and looked around once more.
That's when he spotted a rather small black chest that had escaped his gaze. He took it and gently deposed it on the desk. Wondering what he would find next in it he opened the lid slowly. A wave of cold filled the room as soon as it was open. Inside were carefully lined twenty knives on a black piece of silk. Their hilts were of black leather with white lines running along it. The blades were bloody red and jagged in a way that it would injure someone more when it came out. The most wonderful thing was the swirling blackness IN the blade as if it was liquid inside. Tearing his gaze from the wonderful things he saw that in the lid were two metal wrists. They, too, were black but with the carving of two cruel snarling dragons. The eyes were a red stone that shone dully because of the almost absent light. Along the rim of the wrist were ten metallic straps to hold the knives. Wufei shuddered. They were beautiful, yes, fearfully beautiful.
The Chinese boy meant to close the chest and leave but instead found his hand going to grab the wrists. He took them uncontrollably, feeling their coldness bite his fingers, wrapped them in the black silk covering the lid of the chest and hid them in his pockets. Afterwards, he tried to grab the knives but couldn't. He yanked his hand back as soon as it got near the blades. Gulping, he forced it back in but this time he took the black silk and wrapped the knives. Then, forcing himself to take them, he dumped them in another pocket. (His coat was full of pockets) He still felt the gnawing cold in his hand even though he hadn't touched the weapons but paid it no heed. Even though he feared the things he just couldn't leave them here to be the pray of any passing burglar.
// Aren't you that thief?// teased the voice softly.
Wufei shook his head. Yes, he must be the thief but he hadn't wanted the damn things. It's as if they were the one who had wanted to be picked. They had taken control of his mind and forced him to take them. One thing was for sure; they would stay in his pockets and never come in contact with his skin ever again.
Seeing the night coming down fast, he used that excuse to quickly go down the stairs. When he passed the first door he felt to his right another void of wall meaning another room or staircase but didn't slow down. He knew that if he came across something interesting, he might keep it like the necklace, book and knives but refused to. It's a pity for him because he would have been the first person to see the landscape of Middle Earth from the top of Isengar Tower in the middle of a sunset.
Coming out of the Tower, he stumbled and nearly fell when an abrupt slope reminded him of the trench. Carefully making his way down into the near darkness he hurried up to a place surrounded by a few grass-covered ruins to make his camp. Kneeling down before the pile of dry wood he had previously gathered, he took his lighter out and quickly had a good fire going. He sighted deeply when he saw the fuel in it drained out. He'd been depending on it a lot and now that it was empty, he'd have to find something else to make fire.
As he looked at the crackling flames the desire to have a hot piece of meat grew in him but he quickly cast it away because of the darkness preventing him from hunting. Instead, he took the water skin tied on his belt and drank a few good draughts. Treebeard had given him some EntWash to help him on his journey and it did provided him with the energy and nutriments he needed but it didn't beat a fine roasted piece of meat.
After making sure Shadowfax was well and didn't need anything he sat on a big rock that originally was part of an unknown building and took out the journal he had found. He leafed through it absent-mindedly until a page unlike the others came up. Before, the writing had been small and careful but it seemed the hand had been trembling. He stopped and read.
17th, June
The fools, they have made me, Saruman, head of the Council. Don't they see pass my mask of knowledge seeker? Even Gandalf the Grey who has been all too happy to bar my researches has allowed my rising. Yes, for he is the only one I believe doubts my intentions. Hidden behind a simple desire to know more about the Rings of Power is a thirst to find the Ring. Gandalf often asks me: Why do you seek that that as been lost and is better off unknown? The fool. Doesn't he wish for anything? Isn't he the one who spends his time in the Haflings village? To find the Ring would mean overpowering Sauron and rule over Middle Earth in his place. What better thing to desire? Yet I couldn't have conducted my research as I will without the power coming from the high post of head of Council. I shall be kind to that poor fool Gandalf since he is to whom I have to give my gratitude for allowing me to become the Ruler of Middle Earth!
Wufei looked up at the flames and frowned. The text made close to little sense to him but he had learned some things from Treebeard like who was Saruman and what was the Quest of the Ring.
// So, I am in Isengard, stronghold of Saruman before the Ents threw it down. Interesting. But why is it open? Treebeard told me he kept it shut and destroyed the key. How did it open?//
With a sight, he closed the journal and put it back in his pocket. He removed his jacket and threw aside, keeping only a small silk shirt on. In his brief stay in Rohan, he had found himself new clothes; his were only rags now. Technically, he would have kept the warm clothe but the knives in it made his hair stand on end and he couldn't even think of just touching the fabric to remove them from the pocket in which they lay.
He wrapped himself tightly in his cloak and straightened near the fire. He watched blankly the flames dance while fingering the necklace unconsciously. His thoughts wandered freely for the first time since long. He fell asleep quickly under the careful watch of the full moon and his flock of stars.
**********
" Well, this is it."
The two boys stood at the top of the last hill of the South Downs, and the border of Tom's territory. They just had to go down the slope and then, they would be on their own completely. Duo showed plainly that he was reluctant to go while Heero wore the mask of indifference.
" Let's go, I want to reach the Hoarwell River quickly and if we don't hurry, we won't even reach it tomorrow." Said Duo, breaking the silence.
Heero nodded and spurred his chestnut mare (named Wing by Duo) forward and down the hill, the braided following closely and signing a very old song.
' Going, on an airplane' ' I don't know when I'll be back again'
He contented himself in humming the rest since he didn't knew the other lyrics but it nonetheless bothered Heero greatly to have to hear his deep voice and not being able to make him shut up. He had told him to stop a couple of times, saying he sang off key (which was totally false) but the American had insisted saying it was the only way to kill time and silence with 'the rock of a companion' beside him.
All in all, they reached the Hoarwell River late in the evening of the next day. Surprisingly, they also found a small village along his bank that Tom hadn't mentioned. It really was only a few small cottages crammed together and a tiny port of five or six rowboats. Duo moved toward it but Heero stopped short at the border.
" Stop. We are not going there."
Duo turned around at him and raised an eyebrow.
" What's wrong? It looks like a normal fisherman's village to me. Come on, I want to sleep in a bed and eat fresh food and this place must have an inn."
" No. I have a bad feeling. We are going to follow the Hoarwell until we reach the Tharbad Bridge and continue on the Old South Down Road. We are not staying here."
" I have a bad feeling?! Since when do you have feelings anyway? No way I'm passing the opportunity of a good beer, or ale probably and a good bed. I don't know for you but I'm tired of sleeping on the bare floor under horse stinking blankets. Also, my hair needs a major washing job and it's not in the freezing Hoarwell that I'm going to get it done." Duo nearly shouted in anger.
Heero stared at him intensively and shrugged. He understood the braided boy's reasons and although seeing him that angry outside of battles was strange to him, he too felt on the edge because of the boring days of non- stop riding. Pushing Wing forward, he forced back his warning feeling until it silenced and signalled Duo to follow. With a great smile the longhaired boy followed happily and passed the rickety gate of the village.
The wolves sang over the whistling wind as if pleading the travelers not to go.
******** The end ********
Okay, so, next chapter's going to come in faster than this one, do not worry.
// Tips on Lord of the Rings:
I totally invented the Sauron mirror, the way his castle was built and the Lord in it. Since the books say something close to nothing about it, I used my imagination.
The Mearas, Shadowfax's ancestors, have been decimated so Shadowfax's the last and, logically, the best.
The interior of Saruman's tower is my design although I tried to keep the small details Tolkien wrote. Yes, it has been destroyed, somehow. The Journal, necklace and knives are all invented by me and will never be mentioned in the books or movies.
About The Britain, it is true that the language as been decimated. When the French conquered Brittany, they forced them to speak French so the Britain language as nearly disappeared, truly!
Finally, even though I think Tolkien never wrote about those, the Hoarwell and Tharbad are marked in the second book's map. The Old South Down Road I think his mentioned somewhere and the South Downs are Tom's territory. The village is every single piece out of my head, you'll see soon enough!
I think I'm going to kill my computer. When I wrote Tom's songs, I centred them and changed line at each verse but that PIECE OF CRAP of a computer squeezed them all on the side and in one sentence. He's seriously going down the drain, I'm sick of it ruining my work. ARGH! (Whacks the screen in frustration.) I'm not even sure if he wrote 'piece of crap' and 'argh' larger than my current writing. If not, he's earning himself a major punishment. ;Sigh; Well, if he thinks he's going to stop me from typing, he's in for a match. I'll give his memory cards something to remember! Oh my, I'm losing it. (Shakes head furiously.) Enough of my rambling, on with the story.
//Oh and by the way, please read the comments marked with slashes (/). They are important information for the rest of the story. It'll prevent you from asking questions that I already gave the answer previously. Same thing for my notes at the end. The unmarked paragraphs are just my rambling, I don't really mind if they aren't read (Even though they sometime give info on a more personal basis.)
//So, if you've read all of my author's note and the marked one above, you'll know why I'm repeating myself. Trowa and Quatre are NOT going to be in this fic apart from a small part at the end. That's ALL. I don't like playing with them. Heero, Duo and Wufei are my favourites. They'll always appear in my Gundam fics.
Chapter 7: Read the author's note third chapter.
The clicking sound of metal against rock could be heard down the pitch- black corridor. The hall was totally bare except a few cobwebs long deserted. Nobody was allowed in the creepy passage and nobody wanted to visit anyway. Due to the absence of cleaning committee a few daring spiders had crept in the corners only to die of starvation. Nothing got in, not even the smallest fly. Nothing except one.
A small flickering orange light moved at the farthest end of the corridor. The light didn't give any warmth as it was quickly wolfed down by the surrounding coldness. The figure walking didn't mind though, it kept on advancing, holding the small candle before him. The man walked, the metal heel of his boots clicking against the smooth black stone. A heavy black cloak bordered by blood-red fur hung on his broad shoulders, attached by a golden brooch encrusted with seemingly blood-red gems. He wore black clothing and at his waist hung a sharp-edge sword, sheath embedded with silver markings. He proudly wore a crown made of pure mythril on his forehead. Around his neck was a silver choker also made of mythril. In the centremost large ring was a fiery gem with a black iris like a dragon's which shown from it's depth.
The Lord felt cold course through his vein but paid it no heed. With is free gloved hand he pulled his cloak closer about him to stop his unconscious shivering. He felt his hands trembled as he pushed a stray lock of his raven black hair behind his ear. Unlike the majority of his men who kept their long hair in braids, he kept them short except for two long strands that framed his grave features and passed over his silvery blue crown. He usually let them hung loosely but right now, as he felt the cold gripping his heart deepen, preferred to leave them behind his ears in order not to have them clinging on his skin because of his cold sweat.
As he neared his destination, not only cold but fear also made itself known. Not that there was anything to fear but this had been Sauron's chambers and his imposing presence was still felt. Yet, he walked resolutely towards the now visible doorway. When he came level to it, he had to stop.
Standing on each side like silent guardians was two cruel looking two- headed dragon statues. While one head look down the hallway, the other looked at the opposite wall. Their mouths were open in a wicked grin, exposing the fangs and tongue. They stood on a black pedestal; their claws as big as man's fist clutching the stone as if to break it and their spike covered tails framed the heavy oak doors.
The King brought his free hand forward but it was shot back with a shock. A red light flickered in the eyes socket of the dragons than grew until they became a light themselves. A load hiss coming from their stony mouth echoed down the hall and the Lord backed a couple of steps, his candle falling from his nerveless fingers and blacked out. Pulling himself together, the man stared at the vengeful irises staring at him and slowly advanced once again. Stopping just before the invisible barrier, he took the glove off his right hand, tucked it in his belt and levelled his hand toward the eyes. Brows creased in concentration, he slowly summoned hidden power. Small and flickering at first, a white light formed in the palm of his hand and quickly grew. It was soon dazzling and the red eyes quivered as if blinking to shield of the attacker. They, too, grew in intensity, holding their own against the powerful whiteness as a silent match was engaged. The King, sweating, brought his left hand up and grabbed his right wrist for support. He took a deep breath and with a scream made the white light double in brightness. The bloody irises quivered and the statues shrieked, but this time in fear and despair and then blacked out. The Lord lowered his hands, sweaty and panting. It was becoming more difficult every day to get passed the stony guardians, as if his arrival provided them power. Not waiting for them to awaken, he lowered and grabbed the candle from the ground. He breathed once over the candle and it crackled back to life, giving him back a little bit of light.
The room inside was very big but held little things. Although the room was deep underground, a small cave had been dug in the roof to let moonlight stream in and fall straight in a basin in the middle of the room. The container was carved in white marble that came horribly in contrast with the black stone that made the walls. The base was encrusted with smoked- black diamonds. On a hook hung a small dagger. The blade was filled with markings made of the same melted smocked diamond that decorated the base. The container was full of black liquid that seemed to repeal the moonlight pouring in it.
The King, still trying to catch his breath, walked to the basin and stared at it for some time. Then, he grabbed the dagger, brought it to his wrist, cut the flesh and let his blood trickle into the black liquid. As soon as the first droplet mixed with the water, it started to shimmer and change from deep black to pure white. The Lord watched carefully until the water settled and showed him what he wished to see.
Two figures walked silently in the hills of the South Downs. A longhaired boy rode a beautiful black red-manned stallion while the other looked ahead darkly from his chestnut mare. The King cursed inwardly. The fools of knights he had had let them escape. Just when he was about to change scene, the stern looking boy turned and //looked straight at him//. The Lord backed away but couldn't tear his gaze from the cobalt-blue eyes staring at him. Then, the braided boy turned and asked a question to his friend. The shorthaired looked away and shook his head negatively. Pity he could only see and not hear. The blue-eyed boy didn't turn back but watched the King from the corner of his eyes murderously.
The Lord frowned and made the scene change. Another boy was ridding a silver horse that ran so fast that even through his mirror the image was blurred. //A Mearas?// wondered the man thoughtfully. //How is that possible, they do not exist anymore!// Then a memory appeared from the depth of his mind. A cowering spy had told him of the horse and it's abilities and wildness. //How can the boy have tamed it? He too will ruin my plan if he isn't eliminated, I can sense it. A strange trio we have here: a boy with the voice of the Devil, one that appears to feel my eye watching him and the other taming untameable creatures. This is going to be more difficult than I expected.//
Deciding to ponder on that later, the King tried to make the mirror show him the future but failed miserably. The fight against the guardians had drained him and just keeping a watch on the present happenings was a struggle. He cursed and released himself from the bound between him and the mirror. Soon, if the statues outside continued to demand more strength to get passed, he wouldn't be able to gaze in the mirror of Sauron anymore. He'd have to strengthen his technique; otherwise he would have to abandon the beautiful gift Sauron had left behind.
After a deep sight, he passed trough the doors and the guardians. The dragons, only being able to keep someone out and not in, could only shriek at his passing.
" Oh shut up." Muttered absent-mindedly the King in his deep voice, knowing perfectly well they didn't understand and give a damn.
He dragged his tired feet down the corridor, feeling warmth in his blood again. What a tiring reading it had been this time. The Lord secretly whished for his soft bed but berated himself instantly. //These thoughts are not suiting for a King,// he thought bitterly. Sometimes he just wished to take his mythril crown and hand it to someone else but he had an important duty to accomplish that held him in position.
When he passed the guards standing outside the doorway to the corridor he felt them stiffen and straighten up from their usual slouch. He smirked inwardly. They didn't have a clue of how much he wouldn't have cared of he had found them snoring on the ground. He had unconsciously straightened up too; to keep an imposing figure but he felt the exact opposite of it. He didn't even felt like torturing Lent, which he did himself. It was a good way of passing his frustration. The boy had dared to come back after failing to kill the braided boy. The King smiled maliciously as he thought of ways to torture the boy the next day. People hurried out of his way in fright when they saw the maniac look in his eyes.
The sadistic side of the Lord came back to life but still couldn't suppress his need to rest. He would have so much fun tomorrow.
********
Legolas yawned openly. It was late at night and he still hadn't finished his guarding tour. Aragorn had been very edgy and had insisted on keeping a constant watch in Rivendel while a swarm of riders had gone off on the hunt for the two missing spies. Spies yes, for it was what they were believed to be. The elf doubted it though. He had heard Duo's desperate speech to his horse and it had set his mind in a friendly way. That was the only reason why he put up with this ridiculous chase. If he were the one to find the boys, he would keep them safe from Aragorn's wrath and question them his own way.
He often asked himself why he just didn't tell Aragorn about what he heard Duo say but always came with the same answer. What right had he to go and reveal one's most secret thoughts? Who was he to go and pour one's heart for everyone to know? It would be worse than any treason or blasphemy, it would deserve death. Also, Legolas had eavesdropped his conversation when it was plain the boy hadn't wanted to tell them and the elf could have easily blocked his earring. He felt very bad about that so he found it his responsibility to keep everything secret and keep the boy safe. He had managed to convince a fair few elves to help him in keeping them out of danger's way if ever they found them without telling the elves any of Duo's words. He was secretly proud of that. How much he had changed since the start of the quest against Sauron!
*********
//This place is creepy.//
Wufei let Shadowfax graze freely while he stood before the silky black tower jutting out of the earth like a fang. It was high but narrow and at it's top was a crown of four spikes. The rays of the evening sun reflected on its smooth material like a blazing inferno. Contrarily to the ruins covering the ground around it, the tower was perfectly intact and unchanged. A circle had been dug around it and Wufei got the impression that it was meant to keep any intruder inside and not out.
Curiosity getting the best of him, he stepped down the trench and up. The door to the tower swung on his hinges with a squeeking sound at each movement. The Chinese boy passed it but stopped when he heard a whinnying sound. He looked back to see Shadowfax thrusting his head up and down nervously as if saying to the boy not to go in.
" Don't worry, I won't be long. Anyway, this place has been deserted for quite some time by the looks of it." He said reassuringly to the horse that only insisted more.
Ignoring his warning, Wufei stepped inside. The only passage was the long mounting staircase. The boy climbed it carefully, feeling the moss against his searching fingers as he made his way in total darkness. There were no windows to let light inside and the torches that lined the walls were long dead. Still, when he reached the end of the stairs, he could see a small rectangular line of light indicating the presence of a door. He reached for the doorknob but a wave of uncertainty washed over him. He suddenly didn't feel like entering the room, to peer at its secret contain. He backed a step but shook is head vigorously. He twisted the doorknob and pushed the creaking door.
Windows surrounded the room, one facing each cardinal direction. Sun entered through the West one to enlighten the contain of the room. Shelves upon shelves lined the walls and about ten different chests stood around the walls. Wufei walked around, peering at the books on the shelves, some in languages he could read and others he couldn't. He was taken back when he found a few written in Chinese and even Japanese. Others he could guess were in Latin, Spanish and French. That's when he discovered that the score of books between the North and East windows were all written in a language from Earth while the others were in letters from Middle Earth. The English books didn't surprise him since the people here spoke it but how could they have books written in languages that weren't even used anymore on Earth, like the old Britain?
//So, we have a deeper connection with the people of Middle Earth than I thought.// he wondered.
Deciding to marvel on that detail later, he searched in the chests. The majority of them held clothes while the other had ornaments and one even had other books in it. (In Italian and Russian.) Under the South window was a beautiful oak desk. Something caught Wufei's eye. Beside it, on a golden hook hung a brilliant necklace. The boy looked closer and saw that the fine chain was made of a bluish material that looked like silver and gold intertwined together. The chain held a small tree made of jade with an eight-pointed star made of diamond incrusted in it. Beside it two other tiny tear-shaped diamonds reflected the fading light.
Wufei gasped. It was a beautiful necklace. He took it gently between trembling fingers. The chain didn't weight a thing and felt slick on his skin. Although it was barely larger that a few hairs put together he knew it was strong and wouldn't break easily. Something reassuring flowed through his vein as the prickling sensation down his spine disappeared. He had felt his hair stand on end the moment he had entered and it didn't leave all the while he was prowling around.
Looking around as if expecting to see someone burst in he tied the chain around his neck, feeling the gentle cooling sensation against his skin. The moment he let it go a tiny voice softly spoke to him.
//Robber, you robber. Steeling from one's abandoned home. Burglar, thief! No honour for you.//
Wufei shivered. Yes, he was steeling but from who? Judging by the cobwebs covering the roof nobody had been home for quite some time. Maybe they were gone someplace else? But why abandon such a beautiful thing and all the probably valuable possession that held this room? The boy's eyes roamed around until he spotted a small book lying on the desk. It was made of rich red velvet and on the cover was written in gold letters 'JOURNAL'. The Chinese took it and stared at it for some time.
//Robbing again you little burglar?// mocked the maddening voice in his head.
Wufei shook his head. //No. They wouldn't have left it there if they valued it and if it was secret.// quieting the voice, he shoved the small book in one of his pocket and looked around once more.
That's when he spotted a rather small black chest that had escaped his gaze. He took it and gently deposed it on the desk. Wondering what he would find next in it he opened the lid slowly. A wave of cold filled the room as soon as it was open. Inside were carefully lined twenty knives on a black piece of silk. Their hilts were of black leather with white lines running along it. The blades were bloody red and jagged in a way that it would injure someone more when it came out. The most wonderful thing was the swirling blackness IN the blade as if it was liquid inside. Tearing his gaze from the wonderful things he saw that in the lid were two metal wrists. They, too, were black but with the carving of two cruel snarling dragons. The eyes were a red stone that shone dully because of the almost absent light. Along the rim of the wrist were ten metallic straps to hold the knives. Wufei shuddered. They were beautiful, yes, fearfully beautiful.
The Chinese boy meant to close the chest and leave but instead found his hand going to grab the wrists. He took them uncontrollably, feeling their coldness bite his fingers, wrapped them in the black silk covering the lid of the chest and hid them in his pockets. Afterwards, he tried to grab the knives but couldn't. He yanked his hand back as soon as it got near the blades. Gulping, he forced it back in but this time he took the black silk and wrapped the knives. Then, forcing himself to take them, he dumped them in another pocket. (His coat was full of pockets) He still felt the gnawing cold in his hand even though he hadn't touched the weapons but paid it no heed. Even though he feared the things he just couldn't leave them here to be the pray of any passing burglar.
// Aren't you that thief?// teased the voice softly.
Wufei shook his head. Yes, he must be the thief but he hadn't wanted the damn things. It's as if they were the one who had wanted to be picked. They had taken control of his mind and forced him to take them. One thing was for sure; they would stay in his pockets and never come in contact with his skin ever again.
Seeing the night coming down fast, he used that excuse to quickly go down the stairs. When he passed the first door he felt to his right another void of wall meaning another room or staircase but didn't slow down. He knew that if he came across something interesting, he might keep it like the necklace, book and knives but refused to. It's a pity for him because he would have been the first person to see the landscape of Middle Earth from the top of Isengar Tower in the middle of a sunset.
Coming out of the Tower, he stumbled and nearly fell when an abrupt slope reminded him of the trench. Carefully making his way down into the near darkness he hurried up to a place surrounded by a few grass-covered ruins to make his camp. Kneeling down before the pile of dry wood he had previously gathered, he took his lighter out and quickly had a good fire going. He sighted deeply when he saw the fuel in it drained out. He'd been depending on it a lot and now that it was empty, he'd have to find something else to make fire.
As he looked at the crackling flames the desire to have a hot piece of meat grew in him but he quickly cast it away because of the darkness preventing him from hunting. Instead, he took the water skin tied on his belt and drank a few good draughts. Treebeard had given him some EntWash to help him on his journey and it did provided him with the energy and nutriments he needed but it didn't beat a fine roasted piece of meat.
After making sure Shadowfax was well and didn't need anything he sat on a big rock that originally was part of an unknown building and took out the journal he had found. He leafed through it absent-mindedly until a page unlike the others came up. Before, the writing had been small and careful but it seemed the hand had been trembling. He stopped and read.
17th, June
The fools, they have made me, Saruman, head of the Council. Don't they see pass my mask of knowledge seeker? Even Gandalf the Grey who has been all too happy to bar my researches has allowed my rising. Yes, for he is the only one I believe doubts my intentions. Hidden behind a simple desire to know more about the Rings of Power is a thirst to find the Ring. Gandalf often asks me: Why do you seek that that as been lost and is better off unknown? The fool. Doesn't he wish for anything? Isn't he the one who spends his time in the Haflings village? To find the Ring would mean overpowering Sauron and rule over Middle Earth in his place. What better thing to desire? Yet I couldn't have conducted my research as I will without the power coming from the high post of head of Council. I shall be kind to that poor fool Gandalf since he is to whom I have to give my gratitude for allowing me to become the Ruler of Middle Earth!
Wufei looked up at the flames and frowned. The text made close to little sense to him but he had learned some things from Treebeard like who was Saruman and what was the Quest of the Ring.
// So, I am in Isengard, stronghold of Saruman before the Ents threw it down. Interesting. But why is it open? Treebeard told me he kept it shut and destroyed the key. How did it open?//
With a sight, he closed the journal and put it back in his pocket. He removed his jacket and threw aside, keeping only a small silk shirt on. In his brief stay in Rohan, he had found himself new clothes; his were only rags now. Technically, he would have kept the warm clothe but the knives in it made his hair stand on end and he couldn't even think of just touching the fabric to remove them from the pocket in which they lay.
He wrapped himself tightly in his cloak and straightened near the fire. He watched blankly the flames dance while fingering the necklace unconsciously. His thoughts wandered freely for the first time since long. He fell asleep quickly under the careful watch of the full moon and his flock of stars.
**********
" Well, this is it."
The two boys stood at the top of the last hill of the South Downs, and the border of Tom's territory. They just had to go down the slope and then, they would be on their own completely. Duo showed plainly that he was reluctant to go while Heero wore the mask of indifference.
" Let's go, I want to reach the Hoarwell River quickly and if we don't hurry, we won't even reach it tomorrow." Said Duo, breaking the silence.
Heero nodded and spurred his chestnut mare (named Wing by Duo) forward and down the hill, the braided following closely and signing a very old song.
' Going, on an airplane' ' I don't know when I'll be back again'
He contented himself in humming the rest since he didn't knew the other lyrics but it nonetheless bothered Heero greatly to have to hear his deep voice and not being able to make him shut up. He had told him to stop a couple of times, saying he sang off key (which was totally false) but the American had insisted saying it was the only way to kill time and silence with 'the rock of a companion' beside him.
All in all, they reached the Hoarwell River late in the evening of the next day. Surprisingly, they also found a small village along his bank that Tom hadn't mentioned. It really was only a few small cottages crammed together and a tiny port of five or six rowboats. Duo moved toward it but Heero stopped short at the border.
" Stop. We are not going there."
Duo turned around at him and raised an eyebrow.
" What's wrong? It looks like a normal fisherman's village to me. Come on, I want to sleep in a bed and eat fresh food and this place must have an inn."
" No. I have a bad feeling. We are going to follow the Hoarwell until we reach the Tharbad Bridge and continue on the Old South Down Road. We are not staying here."
" I have a bad feeling?! Since when do you have feelings anyway? No way I'm passing the opportunity of a good beer, or ale probably and a good bed. I don't know for you but I'm tired of sleeping on the bare floor under horse stinking blankets. Also, my hair needs a major washing job and it's not in the freezing Hoarwell that I'm going to get it done." Duo nearly shouted in anger.
Heero stared at him intensively and shrugged. He understood the braided boy's reasons and although seeing him that angry outside of battles was strange to him, he too felt on the edge because of the boring days of non- stop riding. Pushing Wing forward, he forced back his warning feeling until it silenced and signalled Duo to follow. With a great smile the longhaired boy followed happily and passed the rickety gate of the village.
The wolves sang over the whistling wind as if pleading the travelers not to go.
******** The end ********
Okay, so, next chapter's going to come in faster than this one, do not worry.
// Tips on Lord of the Rings:
I totally invented the Sauron mirror, the way his castle was built and the Lord in it. Since the books say something close to nothing about it, I used my imagination.
The Mearas, Shadowfax's ancestors, have been decimated so Shadowfax's the last and, logically, the best.
The interior of Saruman's tower is my design although I tried to keep the small details Tolkien wrote. Yes, it has been destroyed, somehow. The Journal, necklace and knives are all invented by me and will never be mentioned in the books or movies.
About The Britain, it is true that the language as been decimated. When the French conquered Brittany, they forced them to speak French so the Britain language as nearly disappeared, truly!
Finally, even though I think Tolkien never wrote about those, the Hoarwell and Tharbad are marked in the second book's map. The Old South Down Road I think his mentioned somewhere and the South Downs are Tom's territory. The village is every single piece out of my head, you'll see soon enough!