Chapter 10
Without moving his feet his path flashed before him at a high speed. The bare terrain of Mordor swept past him, a strong wind made his hair fly and his ragged clothing flap against his body. He saw the mountain of Fire looming ahead, but his vision turned away and saw a new tower being constructed where Barad-dûr stood with his very eyes by hoards of orcs.
"These will be yours to command," The voice of the Ring said, "The Tower will be re-built where you will dwell a Lord and where you're every command will be met"
But the image flickered, and again he saw the mountain of Fire burning brightly but not alone.
Faint white figures were patrolling its face.
The nine ghostly figures wore white robes, their cold and vacant eyes watched the horizon carefully, like a bird of prey watching the skies, and upon each of their heads stood a crown, nether colourful or beautiful but horrific and terrifying like the forgotten King wearing them..
These were the Nazgúl already in this early hour recreating themselves.
Another patrolled with them, but looked alive and solid as if Aragorn could call out to him. The figure was finer and taller then the Nazgúl, but no matter how hard he tried he could not identify the figure, or see his face as it was covered by a curtain of long hair nor reach him. A disorienting battle between himself and the unknown figure flashed before. His opponent was incredibly swift and agile, and in the backdrop of the mountain his opponent looked more frightening then the Nazgúl, with his long curtain of hair fanning in the air like a banner.
As he watched feeling completely helpless as he saw himself suffer under the blows from his enemy a roaring sound like a great fire filled his ears growing louder and fiercer. Soon it was all he could hear, the images of his battle began to fade and blurred into one unmistakable shape, boring into Aragorn's face, causing his heart to race and him to sweat in fear.
The Eye of Sauron pierced him, freezing him to the spot like a petrified horse.
Groping in the darkness he felt for the Ring and with a great effort he pulled the band from his finger.
The roaring sound ended abruptly and he felt himself fall heavily upon soid ground, back into reality. He lay still for several moments catching his breath, reassuring himself all he had just seen was only an hallucination.
Or was it?
An explosion of questions rolled into his mind: Where were the Nazgúl? Where they coming to find him at this moment? Who was the tenth figure? Where were the orc army now? What if they were re-building the tower? What would happen - ?
Aragorn quickly sat up and looked around himself. Thankfully the area was deserted and his friends slept onwards, none of them had seen what he had done.
Slightly relieved but still shaken by his lack of self control he tried to push out the images he had seen but found his eyes falling again on his sleeping companions again.
A tall fine frame… with a curtain of long hair…
A shiver slipped down Aragorn's spine – had he seen Legolas, or had he seen some sort of twisted shadow of Elrond? Was his friend going to betray him? Why would he battle his step father or Legolas? Was Legolas going to try and steal the Ring from him? Even after being exposed to it for so long without any sign of desire for it. What did this mean?
Without realising it he found himself on his feet trying to put a safe distance between himself and the elf, or what was once.
What should he do? Stay with them and let things go on as normal? Let his friends turn against him, driven by the power of the Ring? Or act?
Ideas rapidly passed through his mind, each as ridiculous as each other. Finally he came to a decision – he should leave them and continue on his own. If Legolas was going to try and take the Ring then surely Sam would attempt it also. There were his friends and he would not allow himself to bring harm to them.
There was no other choice left.
He had to leave them.
Glazing over his shoulder a final time Aragorn left them, still sleeping peacefully unaware to his departure and his descent.
The Ring was putting them against each other, and it would undo them all.
Something wasn't right. That was the thought that bought Legolas out of his uneasy sleep. A cold breeze had been building throughout the night and tunnelled down upon them. He peered through narrowed eyes and carefully looked around himself.
Only empty ground and bare rock surrounded them, the windy air carried no sounds other then of Sam sleeping peacefully alongside.
Then he tensed. Why could he not hear the deep and steady breathing of Aragorn? Why didn't he wake him when it was his turn to watch?
Filled with questions Legolas sat up and stared in horror at the empty ground where his friend should have been. Instantly he swooped over Sam and shook him awake.
"Wake up Sam!" he whispered urgently. Sam blinked away his sleep and sat up hearing Legolas' tone: "What is the matter?" he asked.
Legolas was already in the middle of breaking camp and replied with fearful eyes: "Aragorn is missing." Sam shot to his small hairy feet and helped pack.
"Why, where has he gone?" he asked.
Legolas shook his head. "I do not know. Perhaps the Ring has tempted him away from his path, or he had became delusional. I cannot say Sam"
Sam's face was grave. "We need to find him quickly," he said, "Frodo would sometimes wonder away and sometimes straight into danger."
"Your words are not comforting, my friend" Legolas rose.
Sam followed suit and gazed over the bare land. "Which way should we go?"
"We follow his trail"
"You can see his footprints?"
"Though I am as mortal as you Sam I have not lost my ability to track prey."
And as Sam squinted he could make out a faint staggering line that had disturbed the loose stones.
"The trail is cold" Legolas stated. "He must have past this way during the night, his path is not straight as if he was blinded by the night"
"Or by the Ring," Sam whispered.
"Let's hope not"
Then like an animal Legolas leapt away with all his remaining grace leaving his weariness behind him, driven on fear. Sam hurried after him, his heart racing knowing if they could not find Aragorn soon only ill would come out if it.
The raising sun was masked by the dark clouds. They spread fingers over the mountains, over the Brown Lands reaching as far West as Gondor and Rohan.
The battle for freedom was not yet over.
Under this dark covering a man hunt was underway.
One lone figure tacking another, but only one would walk away alive.
Staggering over uneven ground the Ring consumed him. His normally focused and alert mind was locked in a trace where his thoughts and commands to his body could not penetrate. His feet were carrying, his hands were cupped around the golden band and his soul encaged within his body acting as a prison.
The Ring was going deeper with each moment and
breaking down his defences.
The Great King of Men would fall.
Over the company of Men, Elves and Dwarves the black clouds overhead rippled as a flash of lightening flickered through them. Abruptly a heavy sheet of steady rain fell upon them. Within minuets the ground beneath them became a slippery hazardous muddy path. The rain ran into their eyes, down their faces and seeped through every layer of clothing they carried.
Weighed down by the water and by the dull miserable atmosphere the line carried on under the sound of rolling thunder.
Merry shook his rain soaked head, "Great weather we'll having isn't?" he joked to Pippin just behind him. Pippin didn't reply, but pulled a comical face.
Merry's laughter has hidden by the sorting of the few injured horses that could still walk. The rain chilled there already cold, tired and injured bodies.
One shook its self, showering several dwarves with additional water.
But their cries of disapproval were lost when all sounds were whipped away leaving an icy chill to the air in the silence.
Lightening flashed overhead and scuffles broke out between horses and riders as the animals fought to break free from their masters.
Like a hot poker in a wound a scream of fear and pain broke the silence followed by more and more.
Drawing his short sword Merry felt the cold rain slip down his back and his breath coming in short gasps as flickering, shadowy figures fluttered past him.
Nightmares had found them.
"Sam, stop!" Legolas cried skidding to a halt.
The hobbit stopped as demanded and turned, "What is it? Have you found something?" he asked.
Legolas was kneeling over the faint trail in the fading light. Carefully he fingered the ground, his face troubled and his eyes were dark. Sam watched him closely trying to read hisexpression, but found himself taken by the sudden urge to move away again.
"Come on," he whispered urgently, half turning.
"Oh, no" Legolas whispered. Again Sam turned back: "What is it?" he asked standing at Legolas's side.
"Can you see these very faint prints Sam?" Legolas asked gently.
Sam shook his head.
"They are the prints of an elf" he said.
"An elf…but who?" Sam asked, and then his eyes widened with understand. "Oh, no, it's Aufstand!" he whispered, "But I thought you –"
"I should have done, Sam. But I didn't. Now I wish I had."
"And now she's tracking Aragorn"
"And the Ring" Legolas finished, "That is all she wants"
"How old are the tracks?" Sam asked dreading the answer.
Again Legolas lowered himself over the prints, "Already the scent is becoming cold. These are at least six hours old." He said, "We must hurry if we wish to stop her"
Sam was already gone before Legolas had risen to his feet, his small heart driven by fear of what may happen. He had been through so much, seen so much pain and grief that he was determined not to allow this to end this way.
Aragorn swooped and fell to the ground still clutching his deadly jewel in his hand. He knew he shouldn't but by each passing moment he could not restrain himself. He was growing to accept the Ring and call it his own, his Precious.
No, he snapped his head upwards out of the dust and physically shook himself; calling on all his strength he demanded his hand to release the golden band. And with much exertion his fingers reacted and the weight fell away.
Like the sun rising after days of blackness Aragorn felt himself re-awaken and his mind clear, the additional weight of the Ring being missing was a blessing. His eyes slide into focus and before himself he saw the mountain painfully close. He was so close physically but so far away from completing his task mentally. His mind was corrupted with the power of the Ring and he had no strength left to fight.
Struggling to sit upwards Aragorn knelt for several moments catching his breath and organizing his wearily mind to form a plan. He knew what he must do, but to complete it he must expose himself to the Ring yet again. Alone in hostile land he began to wish he had not left Sam and Legolas, his fiends would have been supportive and would pull him out of his low.
He started down at the Ring laying peacefully upon the dusty ground glittering in the dying light of the day. Though the Ring was tempting him, everyday, every moment it called to him, he still denied it. He would not allow himself to openly embrace it, he still had to fight. For his people, his friends and the future. So many were depending on him, he just couldn't give up now, he had come so far.
I will not fail he said to himself, he repeated these words and found his parched lips moving. I will not fail. He rose to his feet and quickly threaded the Ring back onto its chain, throwing it around his neck and began to climb up the feet of mountain.
His desire to reach the peak was there but within minuets of setting off he ground to a halt and started around himself, his fingers resting upon his sword.
There were forty of them of various sizes and states of condition each wielding a ugly weapon but not the glass liquid filled tubes they had earlier. It took maybe a second or two for the orcs to realise what had stumbled upon them, they shook themselves physically and rose to their feet, snarling and growling.
Calmly Aragorn drew his sword watching his foe dribble tempted by the mere thought of consuming meat. This disguising probability of becoming food did not ruffle Aragorn in the slightest, calmly and controlled he wielded his blade, clear minded at the orc that would have easily taken a piece out his side as it charged.
One by one the others followed, each taking their chance against the wearily man, swinging his long sword to and fro, ducking and diving under blows they dealt him. The orcs fought hard, they were desperate, starving and determined
Weakly Aragorn began to doubt how long he would be able to keep up his cool composure and protect himself. The Ring was pulling him one way while the battle pulled him another direction. His strength was fading away as time and time again his blows hit metal and was turned away, he used his remaining agility and quick wits to save himself – but for how much longer could he keep this up?
Suddenly an answer came: A rough word was barked in Black Speech and the orcs paused in their onslaught. Then they fell back allowing Aragorn to take in the situation but he dare not turn his back upon the orcs, to see the new arrival. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
Again the voice in Black Speech spoke and silence fell over the orcs.
Then abruptly just when Aragorn expected something to happen, the orcs began to laugh: powerful roaring laughter, their rough frames shaking with it, several bending over double with their hands over their abdomens.
Rough words where shouted from the stranger, but the orcs continued to laugh and beat the ground with their fists.
Again the voice spoke again, and suddenly the laughter died upon the lips of the orcs as they collected themselves. Aragorn could feel droplets of sweat run down his spine as the orcs in front of him regained their hungry, evil appearance they had before. He felt too tired to fight anymore and escape would be worthless, with nothing but barren land around him there would be no where to run to, and the Ring would only lead the enemy to him…
Before he could raise his wearily sword arm rough hands pulled it from his grasp and quickly bound his wrists, he fought weakly against his treatment but was forcefully lead this way and that until finally he was completely under their control, all his strength gone and they turned him to the commanding voice.
Aufstand eyed him coldly upwards, her eyes resting upon the Ring around his neck. "You are foolish to wonder alone bearing such a weapon" she said, stepping closer. "Already the Ring has destroyed you, broken your once determined mind and ruined your soul" she hissed, her grey eyes blazing. "You cannot handle the pressure of the Ring, you do not have the strength to rule, nor do you have the right to carry such a opportunity around your throat." Her arm reached towards him, he tried to back away but the hands of the orcs held him still.
Her long fingers lovingly touched the chain before wrapping themselves around the delicate strand then sharply pulled, the chain's catch snapping leaving the One Ring in her hand.
Ahead of him Sam saw Legolas stiffen and lower himself to the ground. Panting Sam ran towards him and ducked down trying to understand what his friend had seen, as he watched him reaching for his bow.
The delight upon Aufstand's face was one that only Gollum could understand. She ran her thumb over the smooth edges, her eyes glazed.
Beyond her the orcs were stirring, itching to begin on the promise she had made to them.
Suddenly Aufstand yelped loudly and recoiled leaving her beloved Ring where it fell beside the white feathered arrow.
Instantly Aragorn could feel himself climb over the depression and sinking feeling have the Ring removed he was experiencing after Aufstand had taken the Ring from him and began to feel hope shimmer through.
Sam and Legolas were here – he stared around him expecting to see them, but found nothing.
Where were they?
Legolas lowered his bow and scuttled across the ground mouthing for Sam to follow.
Above their hidden location Aufstand stood stiff and alert, her eyes locked on the area where his arrow had been fired.
"Come out of hiding, your highness," Aufstand sneered, kicking at the arrow upon the ground. "I owe you for this" she raised her handless arm into the air, her eyes searching.
Nothing happened, no one moved or spoke.
Aufstand turned to the orcs and whispered gently in Black Speech. They broke ranks and crept about, but still the hands held Aragorn still.
"Going to save your dear friend?" Aufstand continued, "How courageous of you, my Lord" she teased. "But I must say I don't understand why you would risk the remainder of your short life on him. He is broken and ruined, afraid and weak – not a King at all" she pressed her eyes rolling and her hand lightly touching a throwing knife.
Too occupied watching her randomly talk and creep about Aragorn did not notice the pressure easing upon his shoulders or the biting ropes around his wrist slack until something flew past his ear and Aufstand screeched.
Legolas slyly smiled, bending his wrist throwing her knife into the nearest orc killing it instantly.
Under the pouring rain the screaming did not ease. Éomer skidding in the mud after throwing his weight behind his blade, lost his footing falling on to his back. The screaming from the elf in above him ceased and he shook himself visibly.
The horrific sight before him was not much better then the nightmares he had just witnessed but Erbschaft took up his sword, extending his arm and allowed Éomer to help him to his feet.
"There are so many of them" Éomer breathed, "We don't have the strength to fight them. Even Gandalf is struggling."
Erbschaft patted the King of the Mark upon his shoulder, "Do not give up hope" he said. "As long as we are free we can fight them, keep them at bay"
"Do you think we can win?"
"Anything is possible" Erbschaft replied.
"Then let us draw swords together"
Swooping blades through the air the shadowy figures of the Nightmares fell away, freeing its prisoner to search for another. Beads of sweat slipped across Erbschaft's brow Éomer was right, there were loads of them and even Gandalf was struggling to keep his mind free.
Beyond him Erbschaft could see the halflings Merry and Pippin wide eyed keeling upon the ground, their mouths hanging open.
By the Valar! he thought the Nightmares are hell bent on killing as many of us as they can! He leaped towards them and with a single sweep of his curved blade the hobbits were freed.
Gasping for breath the two hobbits slowly picked themselves up and wobbled unstably, their small swords rose slowly.
Erbschaft turned searching desperately for his wife, Nymane. But through the crowds of scream men, elves, dwarves and horses she was no where to be seen.
Behind him Gandalf raised his staff above his head; the wooden end flashed lighting the area. Instantly the Nightmares retreated. Panting Gandalf called the company to him: "Hurry my friends come to me" he called, "We must remain focused, closed and strong otherwise the Nightmares will tear you apart"
Briefly they exchanged worried glances between one another before Gandalf's pained face paled and the light in his staff weaved.
"Everything rest on Aragorn fulfilling his task. The Nightmares are connected to the Ring, in the meantime we must strive to remain alive" he wheezed.
Gasping, his body shaking, the light from his staff died covering the company again in darkness.
Again the air was filled with screaming.
Sam had suddenly acquired the grace and speed worthy of the elves. He ducked through everyone's grasp, between their legs, past their blades and teeth and snatched up the weight of the Ring and whisked it away before he could be stopped.
Turning upon his heel he threw the Ring accurately landing squarely in Aragorn's hands: "Go!" he called diving under a pair of arms.
Legolas pressed Aragorn's long, weather beaten fingers around the Ring and pushed it towards his friends' chest and forcing Andúril back into its sheath: "Do not stray from your path" he said putting pressure upon his shoulders to turn him away from the battle and towards the mountain. "Remember what Elrond said: Every path you have trodden has lead to this road" Aragorn nodded dumbly.
"Go now!" Legolas hissed pushing Aragorn away before quickly spinning upon his heel and into battle.
Stumbling up the incline of the mountain with the sounds of battle rang in his ears Aragorn ran, feeling heavy with guilt. Painfully he wondered if he would ever see Sam or Legolas again. They were fighting a hard and long battle alone, without him. He half turned; half thinking about helping them, but deep inside he knew he must continue on his own path up the mountainside to rid the world of the one thing that was putting them in constant danger of becoming lost in a world of darkness and shadow.
With his heart hammering painfully in his chest he heaved his heavy legs into action leaving behind his friends who had never truly left him, with tears in his eyes he turned his back upon them for possibly the last time.
Screaming with unmeasured anger Aufstand roared, running hard to hurry to pursuit Aragorn and the One Ring she desires. But calmly Legolas steeped into her path with Ruzlina's sword raised his eyes blazing with deep set anger.
Aufstand eye line dropped to the blade and her face broke into a quick smile: "Reclaiming items form the dead are you?" she mocked. "Well I suppose it is of no use to her now is it? Though I am surprised how you managed to live through what was supposed to kill you"
"You only have yourself to blame, Aufstand. It was your arrows and your knives, your poor aim" he returned the same icy mocks she had given. He knew that was the one thing she detested the most was someone insulting her ability to fight.
Growling she stepped back, snatched a sword from a fallen orc and cried: "Enough talk, let us finish this!"
Sting flashed in the dull light as Sam played it bravely, the orcs fought at first with such energy and commitment, but they bravery was failing. They were becoming hesitate facing the elvish sword growing bright blue but more so were they half watching the battle between Aufstand and Legolas. They stepped past and over Sam, ignoring his sharp words.
They don't want to fight me, Sam thought. They are more interested in watching Aufstand struggle – do they really hate her that much? He looked from orcs, to Aufstand then to Legolas' set face. Something was different about him; he was cold and prepared to die… Sam shivered and sheathed his sword.
He knew what he must do; he had been there to know it for himself. Taking a deep breath Sam ran and began climbing the mountain to give Aragorn as much strength as he could.
Thank you to all my reviewers and silent readers – but please can you find your voices! I love feedback, no matter what you say. Good or bad I am always looking for ways to improve myself, hunt for fresh ideas.
Speaking about fresh I feel this story is becoming a little bit stale, that is why I am striving to finish it so I can move onto something new and exciting. Now I can relate to many of you other authors and professional ones – writing a sequel is hard!
Thank you for your continuous support Soppy Hobbit.
Rosie