I'M REALLY, REALLY SORRY for not updating on WEDNESDAY! It's my fault entirely! It seems FF.Net deleted one of my stories as it didn't follow the guidelines and I was BANNED from posting until yesterday night. However it was too late for me to post anything! Hopefully the updating schedule will be back to normal now. Once again, I apologise for the lateness of this chapter. AND because of the lateness of the update I have chosen to treat my readers by giving you two chapters to read! Though I do suspect you should get your tissues out for the next chapter….

Also…

I'm terribly sorry for the revelation of what Eldarion's got to do, but don't worry, you'll be surprised at the ending. Though at the moment I think the ending is completely and utter rubbish. But we'll see when I finally post it in the following weeks.

Onto the chapter!

(Names of places on Numenor come from the map of it in Unfinished Tales. The description is my interpretation of the island)

Chapter 11

The Building Strength of Morgoth

The boat had docked at last at the bay of Numenor. The Orcs were shuffling off taking hold of any weapons that they had. The Knight watched as his master's army descended onto the island. Commanding the remaining five Orcs to take the three prisoners to Eldalondë where Morgoth resided, the Knight mounted its steed and flew off into the sky inland. As much as Aragorn could tell the boats had made berth in the Bay of Eldanna.

It was no more then five miles inland. The Orcs guided them roughly through the wild, gentle prodding them with their scimitars should they stumble.

Aragorn was weak and tired and stumbled far to often. It did not help for him to have his hands tied behind his back and a leash round his throat, restricting his airways. The hobbits fared better with just their hands bound in front.

As Aragorn stumbled once more he felt darkness grab into his mind-barrowing deep. His eyes widened, as the leash was pulled tight. He coughed. He did not rise from his crouched position.

Frodo struggled against the Orcs holding him. "Let me go! I can help him! Please!"

It soon came clear that the man was not going to rise, and the Orcs reluctantly let Frodo go to him. The hobbit loosened the rope round his throat; Aragorn breathed in deep. The darkness in his mind continued to throb.

"Fight it. Don't let it get to you." The hobbit instructed.

Aragorn nodded and concentrated. He could already guess what was happening. Yet he didn't want to believe it. When at last the ache in his head faded, he pulled himself to his feet.

"Don't use the leash," Frodo begged, "It will harm him more then he should be."

Rather curiously the hobbit wondered why they heeded his words rather then dismissing them. But maybe it was because Aragorn was valuable to them and they didn't want him dying on them yet.

Frodo kept alert on Aragorn's form. He didn't stumble as much and for that he was glad.

The city of Eldalondë was situated five miles beyond the harbour. The road they trod upon was dusty and the paths showed cracks from the battering the water had caused the land during its time beneath the sea. As night came on the Orcs pushed the captives harder intent on reaching their destination before darkness crowded around them.

Whether or not someone was protecting them the Orcs at last decided it was hopeless to travel on during the night and stopped, ordering the captives to sleep and regain their lost strength.

The hobbits dozed for a few hours though Aragorn could not. He lay awake looking up at the stars. His thoughts were bent on Arwen once more. He was never going to see her again. Never will I feel her touch against my skin, nor a kiss on the lips. Never will I hold her in my loving embrace ever again.

Even as he thought these thoughts Aragorn gently let the tears flow onto the earth. He did not notice Sam waking and seeing his sorrow.

Morning soon came and the Orcs woke them ordering them to stand and walk. According to the lead Orc the company had no more then two miles to go. Because Numenor was affecting Aragorn in someway the movement of the company was slow going.

Frodo and Sam struggled along beside Aragorn whose head was bowed in defeat. It was mostly the Orcs pulling him along. Frodo could see something was wrong with him; in his heart he knew what fate awaited the man, but he chose to ignore it, hoping that somewhere there was another way. He could not bear to see the man die.

Soon the white towers of Eldalondë could be seen in the distance. Here Aragorn looked up. His heart sank as they drew closer. It was here his fate awaited him; here where he would die.

All three prisoners were led into the city through many archways up high stairs until they came to an arena. Here the Great Knight waited and something else…

Sam looked desperately around for he could not see anything; he was not in tune with the evil residing here only Frodo and Strider would be able to see Morgoth.

Frodo shivered as the darkness crept dully through his skin. He trembled. His eyes fell on the form taking shape next to the Knight. It was ghostly, with shining red eyes; hands clawed with feet the same. A black cloak trailed down its shoulders reaching the earth. Frodo felt the gaze piercing into his mind, but then it turned its attention to Aragorn, who stumbled as a dark wave assaulted him.

A small gasp fell from his lips and he stifled a cry. The Orcs holding him loosened their grip and he crashed to the floor, curling himself into a ball as the pain increased. Frodo and Sam watched in horror as Aragorn writhed on the ground trying to escape the harmful, mindful touch.

No sound came from the man's lips, though Frodo could tell that he was struggling to maintain the screams he knew would come if Aragorn lost the battle. Sam's eyes were tearful yet he couldn't wipe the tears away because the Orcs kept a firm grip on his arms.

Suddenly Aragorn stopped writhing and stilled. A command from Morgoth allowed the hobbits to be freed; Frodo ran to Aragorn and gently looked at the man. He was unconscious sweat beading his brow. Sam stayed where he was unable to move, for the horror in which he had just seen, filled his heart with anger, yet he dared not move for fear of being struck by the enemy.

"Strider?" Frodo whispered. "Please don't fall yet. I promised to help you."

"You cannot help him hobbit of the Shire."

Frodo looked up and for the first he truly beheld the form of Morgoth. The sparkling but growing brighter body of the dark lord was menacing to the waking eye, even more so to that of the Eye of Sauron. Frodo composed himself for the battle ahead. Whatever happened he would not allow Strider to die like this; neither would he let Morgoth claim the man as his own. He would die before it happened!

"Why try to help him? He is mine. Already he is falling into the Shadow, soon he will be my servant and Middle-Earth and all of Valinor will be subject to me. Nothing can stop me. Not even the boy."

"You know?" Frodo murmured. It was surprising that Morgoth knew of what Eldarion was destined to do and he still risked it. He still risked in gaining his power instead of waiting and snatching or killing Eldarion. He must think that Eldarion is to fail. If he does he is foolish to believe it. Eldarion may seem weak but he is strong. I will make sure that Morgoth is destroyed! I will not have him taking the Shire or Valinor as his own!

"Of course I do Ring-bearer. I am no fool. His pathetic son may be nearing Numenor, but when he finds his father he will not have the courage to end his life. It will mean victory for me."

Frodo snarled at the evil lord. "You are wrong. Eldarion is strong! Do not underestimate him!"

Morgoth laughed sending a chill up Frodo's spine. "Simple fool. What makes you think that a sixteen-year-old boy will be able to summon the courage to kill his own father? He will not be able to; I have foreseen it. Elessar is mine as is this world!"

Frodo gritted his teeth but refused to be baited. If he were to aid both Strider and the Prince he would need to be agile and refreshed. He would not answer. It was simple as that.

Long moments they stared at each other until Morgoth departed with the Orcs and the Knight, leaving the hobbits alone with Aragorn.

Eldarion stepped carefully onto the land glancing round at his surroundings. Something inside him felt at home and for a second he thought himself to be home in a loving embrace of both his mother and father. They had arrived at Numenor 12 hours later after the hobbits capture. Gandalf had immediately taken the boat away with him and sailed into the darkness.

The Fellowship stood the shore; a cool wind whipping through their hair.

"I never thought to see this place," Faramir murmured. "All knowledge of this island has slipped from most people's knowledge. Little is known of this place."

Eldarion frowned. "My Uncles brought with them scrolls from Rivendell detailing about Numenor. Ada had them copied and published for a short while in Minas Tirith for all to see. Many people read them. Ada still has the original. Perhaps when we return you should look it up."

"I was unaware of that." Faramir said stroking his beard. "Well, I have been in Ithilien for many years. I expect Aragorn to make some changes."

Tears seemed to spring in his eyes and he hurriedly wiped them away. "Come on, we're losing time. I must find my father." And when the time comes I will ensure that I save my father and not destroy him.

Aragorn was barely awake. He had woken only a few moments ago but a stab of pain rushing through his system had caused him to fall semi-conscious. The hobbits sat nearby; Frodo holding the man's hand. They both had a reason to guess that Aragorn was dying, partly because of what Morgoth was doing to him. The power inside Aragorn was being taken from him, and as it was a part of him, it was harder for him to part from it. His soul was not willing to part with the power and it was this causing the man immense pain. His soul was fighting against Morgoth, but each time his strength waned the dark lord regained some of his former power.

Within a day Aragorn would be dead.

Frodo leaned over and wiped the sweat from the man's forehead. The man's lips were parched and his face pale. Lack of water was slowly killing him. As the hobbit gripped the man's hand tighter, he placed his other on Aragorn's eyelids and called to him in elvish. He had learnt enough elvish to communicate and speak it marginally well. "Estel? Estel? Wake up?"

Aragorn stirred and slowly returned to the world. His eyes were glazed with pain and he smiled weakly before he hissed as pain tore through his chest. The pain passed and Aragorn turned to Frodo and spoke to him in the beautiful tongue of the elves. "What is happening to me?"

"Part of your soul is being forcefully ripped from you." Frodo said sadness was glinting in his eyes. "You are dying Estel."

"Iston. It cannot be helped." He squeezed his eyes shut as another bout of pain ripped through him. This time a small gasp fell from his lips. "I need to be free."

"You will be soon. Your son is coming. And the Fellowship. With any luck they will be here now making steady progress towards us."

"No, Eldarion can't see me like this. He can't."

"Then fight it. Hold it back. Prevent the evil from enslaving your will that way you will triumph. I held out for days before succumbing. Surely you can too."

Aragorn nodded stifling a moan. "It hurts."

"I'm here," Frodo said, "I will help you. Think of people you love. Arwen. She is your love. Think of her. Ignore the pain that disrupts your system. Focus all thoughts on memories of the past. The pain should be bearable."

Aragorn gingerly closed his eyes. He wandered far away into the past and soon the pain raging inside him became a pleasant tingle.

Sam crawled up next to them; his eyes showed a worry for both his master and the King. "He's hurting, isn't he?"

"Yes Sam there is no escape for him except in the comfort of his own memories. If he is to remain strong then his most precious times will be a comfort to him, and should aid him not to fall to the Shadow that is looming on the horizon." Frodo answered.

"But what is being done to him? I don't understand."

Frodo told Sam – briefly – of the power that Aragorn had within his soul and how it linked him with Morgoth. The dark lord was regaining his strength yet the man was losing part of himself in the process: hence the pain.

"He is dying Sam ever so slowly. The pain is dulled for now. If I can just keep him strong he may live long enough for the others to get here."

"Do you really hold onto that hope Mister Frodo? That all will be well?"

"Of course. If Sauron was overthrown then there is a way to rid the world of Morgoth." Frodo answered. "Thanks Sam for everything you did for me."

"For what?"

Frodo smiled placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You were there when things looked their bleakest. My journey I undertook. Samwise Gamgee was there for me at every step of the way and for that I am proud. You saved me Sam; for that I am grateful."

The two hobbits hugged. "I am at peace." Frodo continued. "And with our aid Strider will make it though his pain and come out stronger on the other side."

Frodo fell silent and kept a vigilant watch over Aragorn. The man slept peacefully and it seemed nothing could disturb his peaceful slumber.

Elrond greeted Gandalf as the Istari reached the shores of Valinor. The elves had been preparing to leave when the Gandalf had sent another signal proclaiming his coming. He had warned them to not leave until he had spoken to the members of the council.

Formal greetings were made and Gandalf was led to the council meeting place where he briefly explained about his and the Fellowship's journey from Minas Tirith to Numenor.

"So the Fellowship travels on Numenor. How long do we have Mithrandir until the battle comes?" Glorfindel asked.

"In less then a day Morgoth's power will be restored to him. It won't be long until Eldarion will have to make his choice. This is the day when men make the choice for Middle-Earth. Today we fight the last battle. We must leave now. Ever so quickly our chances of distracting Morgoth are running low."

"Then that is what we will do." Galadriel answered, her eyes shining bright, for she was the only one to have seen the light of the Two Trees of Valinor before Morgoth destroyed them. "Lord Glorfindel and Lord Elrond lead the main attack on the shores. Mithrandir you too shall fight with them."

In a matter of fifteen minutes the elves were ready and they set off from the shores of Valinor, heading towards battle and defeat.

The army of Morgoth was beyond any the elves had seen in a long while. Tens of thousands of Orcs lined the shores of Numenor, bows and swords at the ready. As the elven army approached the Orcs released their arrows. Few elves were killed in this assault but those who did were mourned.

Gandalf stood at the head of one of the boats with Elrond. Both realised this was a hopeless battle but won that had to be fought at all costs. The first five elven boats reached the shore and warriors leapt from the elven ships and onto the crystal, shining sand.

The Orcs advanced. Swords met scimitars.

"He has grown strong since our last meeting," Elrond murmured. "The army is a formidable foe against us all. We will never triumph over him this way."

"We must try," Gandalf answered, "Let us hope that Morgoth's doom is at hand."

TBC

I do suggest you review this chapter before going onto the next – just in case as the cliffy at the end is really sad and you may not be able to write a review – just a warning!