Angelus stood there, in the house of Elrond. His eyes shining darkly as he looked upon his prize. The wind had turned bitter cold and shook the heart of Imladris. Angelus looked down, his army ruining all, casting down trees, setting flame to structure and slaughtering any Elf that stood in their way.
"Just look at it," he said, his voice quiet and masterful "Just look at its beauty."
Rivendel was broken, one thousand years and more gone forever, gone in flames of hate and Orcish song of victory. Heavy footsteps came behind them and a deep Orc voice was heard.
"The Elves flee my Lord, South along the river. Should we follow? Give the boys some sport."
Angelus sighed.
"I told you no!" he said and his voice was venomous "Let them run where they will. They can try and hide but no one will be safe for long."
The Orc subsided but growled something it its tongue as it did so.
"Did you say something?" Angelus asked, a maddened look about him.
The Orc recoiled as did the two others with him. It lifted its arms in defence and apology.
"No my Lord," it choked "Orog said nothing."
Angelus' face turned, its vampiric facets shown. The three Orcs recoiled in fear, but as they turned to flee Spike held the door, a grin holding his face.
"How... long... will... it... take," growled Angelus "For me to get respect!"
His hand went to his Elven blade and Vilya burned with malice. He drew the sword and struck Orog down, his black blood spraying the other two Orcs. They trembled and fell to the floor in fear and servitude.
"Get up you idiots," said Angelus "Go to the river and give word to the Uruk-hai. We make South at dawn. Search the halls and burn everything. Kill anyone you find."
The Orcs rose and made to leave.
"Wait," called Angelus raising his hand "Everyone except the children," he gave a sinister grin "Bring them to me."
The Orcs ran off and Angelus returned to the balcony.
"Spike," he said "Brings back memories this does. Remember it?" he laughed "Boxer Rebellion, China, what was it? 1900?" he shook his head "Those were the times, the four of us, you, me, Drew and Darla, four generations. We were the best, killing, feeding, defiling."
Spike looked confused.
"You," he said "You had your bloody soul back then. Good show but, had me right fooled."
"Me?" said Angelus shocked "What are you talking about? I was big and bad and evil. The children, the wives, the newborns," he shuddered "A soul... please."
"Um, hello," said Spike "Romanian Woods, 1898, gypsies."
"Okay," said Angelus "It happened, but it wasn't me. It was that jack off Angel. I was shining through though, and anyway," he continued "It was completely Darla's fault. She wanted the girl, not me. It's all changed now but, we're back, Angelus and William."
"Spike," the other vampire chimed in.
"And this is our playground."
"Angelus," said Spike.
Angelus ignored him.
"Wish that little bitch Faith was her now."
"Angelus," said Spike.
"I'd show her. Snap her neck. Drink her."
"Mate!" yelled Spike.
"What?!" returned Angelus annoyed.
"The rooms on fire," said Spike simply.
Angelus looked to the burning walls.
"God damn it," he said.
He re-sheathed his sword and ran from the room, Spike following him into the night with a last happy look at the broken forms of Elledan and Elrohir.
"These three are all we found," growled an Uruk-hai troop "The rest were burned, their parents' dead."
The Uruk threw something to the ground, three Elven children, two girls and a boy.
Angelus and Spike sat near a fire to the West of the city. They bathed in the moonlight under a large oak. The children stood there huddled, the smallest hidden behind the other two. Angelus spoke.
"You," he said and pointed to the girl. None moved and two Goblins came and restrained the older pair.
"No," they cried as the smaller was pushed forward.
"It's okay," said Angelus "I won't hurt you; I just want to be your friend."
The Elf child looked at him and Angelus smiled.
"What's your name?" he said, a faint anticipation in his tone.
"Lillen," she said, a mere whisper in the deadly night.
"That's a pretty name," he said "Are these your brother and sister?"
Lillen turned her brilliant green eyes on the other two.
"Yes," she said pointing to each in turn "That is my sister Vana and my brother Olvar."
"Lillen," cried Olvar "Tell them nothing."
"Mamma said she was going for food," said Lillen
"And she was," said Angelus "I saw her and she told me to give you a message. Come here and I'll tell you."
Muffled cried came from Vana and Olvar. It seemed Lillen wanted to turn but she was held by Angelus' gaze.
"What did mamma say?" said Lillen.
"Oh," Angelus smiled "It was just for you. Come here and I will whisper it in your ear."
Lillen smiled and walked forward, her innocence glowing in her satin skin. All fear lost to her. She came close and leant down. Angelus moved Lillen's hair behind her ear and rested his cheek on hers so that his mouth was right next to her ear, his hand resting on her shoulder.
"What did she say?" Lillen asked, almost excited at this game.
Angelus whispered to her so quietly none other hear.
"Be... afraid."
Lillen fell to the ground, her neck broken, her immortality taken from her, the glow about her gone; her eyes open, staring into those of her killer. Angelus stood, filled with hatred.
"Feed her to the dogs," he said.
He looked into the night and gave a roar. Silence fell, his face burning scarlet in the morning sunlight.
"Get up and get ready," he yelled "We move."
The cries went up of ten thousand evil creatures and the ground shook with the thunder of their feet.
"Bind their hands," Angelus told the Goblins, turning to Vana and Olvar "But not their legs... They run with the rest of the apes."
With such speed the army ran that even as the sun rose to its highest point, Eregion sat upon their left. As they passed, a chorus of devilish singing went up through the ranks, cries of hatred and triumph, cries that shook the trees and grass, so long ago that the Elves looked upon. The beasts did not tire but flew with frightening pace on and on further south, the peaks of the Misty Mountains growing ever higher and their sides more sheer.
Angelus and Spike rode at the forefront of the troops flanked by Orcs on Wargs. They found their horses in Rivendel and by the hand of Vilya they were swayed to carry their new masters.
"My Lord," a deep cry came from behind.
Angelus and spike slowed, their army sweeping around them, continuing South.
"What is it?" asked Angelus.
"It's the Elves my Lord, they tire. Shall we carry them?"
"No," said Angelus, his eyes narrowing, turning his horse and speeding against the black waves. Spike followed, flashes of excitement crossing his face.
Angelus halted looking North. Not far beyond, a circled band of Uruks came onwards, midnight pikes shining high in the East changing breeze.
Within the circle ran Vana and Olvar, their heads bowed, their pace steadily defiant. As Angelus dismounted Vana fell to the ground to a yell of harsh laughter. She was lifted to her feet and pushed forward, an Uruk- hai captain revealing a whip and lashing her across her back. She cried aloud to another storm of cheers. The forth coming Uruks passed Angelus and Spike and the Elves halted, the other troops continuing on, a cleared space of several yards surrounding them. The Elves were cast down, their faces in the dirt, clouds of choking dust rising with their breath causing them to gag. Their hands were bound behind their backs slashing their milky skin. They lay still, small whimpers coming from Vana. Their feet were torn apart, bleeding, and studded with rock and metal, blackened and bruised. Angelus looked at them with disgust.
"You don't run?" he asked casually, not looking at the fallen.
He got no answer.
"Do I talk just to hear my own voice?" he spat.
Spike adorned a vicious smile but said nothing.
"Be good little Elves and ANSWER ME!" roared Angelus.
"Natha daged aen," [They are all going to die] Olvar winced into the ground.
Fury flashed in Angelus' eyes but he quickly extinguished it giving a wry smile. He walked forward and lifted Olvar to his feet. Olvar swayed groggily as Angelus knelt to look into his face, almost seeming to read his thoughts. Again Angelus smiled and stood and turned his back. Spike and the Uruks looked curious until Angelus spun around and struck out at Olvar, his failing form strewn on the ground, the left side of his face crushed, his scarlet blood spraying the rocks, still spilling from the large gash. Spike roared with laughter still upon his horse and he turned and sped off. Vana screamed and looked terrified between Angelus and her brother. Angelus licked the blood from the back of his hand and stooped to the unconscious from of the Elven boy. Reaching down he cast his hand upon Olvar's face and pooled the blood over it. Angelus then went to Vana and stood before her, tears welling in her eyes. Angelus held his hand up, the scarlet blood shockingly red in the midmorning sun.
"Let's hope," he whispered "You don't inherit your brother's mouth."
With that he smeared Olvar's blood down Vana's face and onto her already ruined dress. She screamed out, hysterical as it seeped into her skin, filling her senses, blinding her eyes and staining her face. She took several steps backward screaming at the ground, looking to nothingness, lost to her own horrific visions. Angelus stepped behind Vana and cupped her mouth with his bloodied hand. Her cries were silenced as she breathed frantically, eyes darting in all directions, needing to escape. Somewhere behind Vana there was the unmistakable sound of a dagger being unsheathed. Angelus lent to her ear and spoke to her much as he did to her sister Lillen.
"Play nice, you live for a while longer... don't," a slicing sound cut the air as though the blade severed heavy fabric. Angelus gave a great sniff then let the thousands of strands of Vana's hair fall in front of her eyes. "You'll be punished," he finished.
Vana's legs gave way and Angelus cast her to the ground. Olvar stirred as the vampire got back upon his horse. Angelus gave a psychotic smile.
"Bring them," he said "They still might be useful."
As the sun started to wane slowly Westwards Angelus rode again, back to the forefront of his Orcish army.
So dark were the clouds above that night was total. Neither moon nor star shone through the ink black sky. As the company continued South the stone beneath was washed with scarlet light, while the Eastern breeze closed in bitterly about them.
As night continued to deepen torrents of rain fell from the sky and Angelus halted his brood.
"Sodding rain," snarled Spike as the icy droplets caressed his face, blinding him and soaking him to his core. "How much further?" the vampire pleaded, looking to Angelus.
He however had stopped dead.
"You smell that?" he asked Spike quietly, his eyes darting into the rocky shadows.
"Smell what?" said Spike "All I can smell is Orc... Bleed'n saturated by their stink we are."
Several of the surrounding Orcs gave indignant growls but said nothing further.
"You," called Angelus to an Uruk scout "What do you smell?"
His dark, scarred face clouded by night turned in all directions. With speed his midnight hand went to his sword.
"Goblins my Lord," it growled "Not of our company."
He gave another great sniff and drew his weapon.
"From the mines of Moria by their scent... Maybe twenty, due East into the mountains."
"Good," said Angelus "Take two hundred fighters, I want none to escape. Kill them all but their leader, bring him to me. Do as you will with the carcases."
The Uruk growled jovially and sped off yelling orders to the troops.
"What you want more for?" asked Spike now shielding himself against the rain with a small shield.
"Never you mind Spike," was all Angelus said with a smile "Just know it's gonna be fun."
As the dead of night passed all the army was halted, sheer cliff faces towering above them on their left.
"Why here?" asked Spike confused.
He left Angelus to his devices and did not much yet ask of his plans.
"There," said Angelus pointing to two ancient trees, uprooted, their skeletal limbs lying forlorn in the water.
A great lake stretched on their right, deep and dark and still, like silent crystal and hellish marble, unmoving. About the trees lay boulders and littered stone, carved by skilled hands.
"I want this cleared," shouted Angelus and at once the Uruks sped forward to clear the entrance.
Hours passed and still the cave was no nearer being freed, and even so, such a small entrance would take nearly the same amount of time for the Orcs to enter. As morning neared Spike went to the waters edge. Laying there was a stone engraved with ancient runes.
"What's that say?" he asked no one in particular.
Angelus in casual tones answered.
"The halls of Durin... Lord of Moria... Speak friend... And enter."
Spike looked shocked.
"How the bloody hell do you know that?" he asked.
"You know Spike," said Angelus "I don't really know."
All was silent and calm now as Spike continued.
"Well what's that mean?"
"Simple," said Angelus looking dangerous "Say the password and the doors will open."
"And what's the password?" asked Spike.
Angelus gave a wicked grin.
"Ka-boom."
Angelus turned and threw a flaming torch at the still constricted entrance. The mountain shook and the ground quaked as fire and stone and ash filled the sky. So terrible was the noise that the Orcs fell the ground and trembled. Huge shelfs of rock soared one thousand feet into the air before crashing into the damp earth. Debris showered down around them and Spike spat dirt and mud from his mouth.
"Well that did the trick," he smiled.
"Yeah," answered Angelus "But that was the last and lot of Santa's gunpowder."
The chasm made was large enough for fifteen men to walk abreast and high enough even for six Uruks head to foot. As the dust cleared Angelus gave his orders. He prepared his ranks to move, ten thousand fireflies dancing in the blackness, their brilliant flame stuttering in the breeze.
"My Lord," a harsh call came from the void of night.
Muffled cries followed, ending with the bloodied Goblin captain falling at the feet of the vampires. The Goblin was lifted to his feet by two Uruks and restrained by his arms. His eyes were ablaze with fury, deep pits of malice and contempt. The Goblin tried to charge down Angelus, shrieking in its hellish tongue. Angelus stepped up to it mere inches from its face.
"Common tongue, maggot," he hissed.
Still the Goblin shrieked and cursed in its dark language. A small smile creased Angelus' face.
"I love it when they pay hard ball."
Angelus drew a dagger from his side and a deafening cry rang out. The vampire drew back and held in his hand the bloodied, severed ear of the struggling Goblin.
"You're going to help me," Angelus said casually, gazing nonplussed towards the gaping hole in the side of the Goblin's head.
"I will never help you, never!" the Goblin roared.
It snorted then spat black, congealed fluid at Angelus' feet.
Angelus smirked.
"Spike," he called over his shoulder.
The blonde vampire came forward wearing a grin.
"Bout time I got a word in," Spike said reaching out an upturned palm towards Angelus.
He placed the dagger he held in Spike's hand then looked again at the Moria beast.
"You're going to be our guide, Goblin," said Angelus through the lifting gloom. "You're going to take us to your master."
The Goblin gave a great sneer.
"Find your own way man scum, Badook will show you nothing."
"What's with Goblins and talking in the third person?" asked Angelus.
"Finger," he said simply to Spike.
Spike stepped to the Goblin and thrust him to the ground. There it lay; face down in the granulated stone, shrieking as the Uruks pressed their armoured knees into his back, his arms held out to the sides. Spike knelt beside Badook, the gleam of morning colouring his blade with a blue sheen. He grasped Badook's hand and pushed it hard into the dirt. A choked cry filled the air as Spike stood.
"Nice clean cut," he said, observing the severed thumb of the Goblin.
Still it resisted.
"Kill me if you wish, more will come in my place. I show you nothing." Its words punctuated with the cries of pain at its severed digit.
"Finger," said Angelus simply once more.
Again a cry rang out and Spike stood and tossed Badook's middle finger casually over his shoulder.
"NEVER!" screamed the Goblin again.
"Finger," said Angelus, again in the same easy tones, the slightest comedic flecks of emotion in his voice.
Spike ran the blackened dagger over the Goblin's two remaining fingers, having just thrown the smallest finger aside.
"Which one next mate? Or you going to play nice like?"
"Yes," cried Badook "We helps, we helps."
"Finger," said Angelus with a satisfied smile.
A final cry rang out as Spike cut Badook's ring finger from his hand.
"We said we help! Why do you cut my finger off again?" Badook cried reproachfully at Angelus.
"One for the road," he replied.
Spike grinned and lifted the cowering Goblin to its feet. All resistance had been cut from him. He feared these newcomers; he feared their power and their sway.
Angelus turned, his face contorted, his topaz eyes glinting in the growing light. He spoke to the Goblin and his voice was venomous.
"Every time you stumble, every time you stop, every time you breath, you lose another appendage, and let's face it... there are only so many fingers and toes I can cut off before you start getting called Mary."
Badook quaked and nodded his head in servitude. Spike grabbed his arm and threw him to the ground near the mine entrance.
"Lead on," said Angelus.
Badook rose, cupping the bloodied stump that was his hand. As light engulfed the vampires and their army the troops marched forth, beginning their trek through the long dark or Moria.
The army marched on, ten thousand troops wending their way through the narrow and broken paths of the ancient Dwarf city, the captured Goblin turning here and there through the virtual shadow. Through seven levels and innumerable chambers they went, most littered with ancient texts and decayed bones of the fallen Dwarven warriors. Without warning the roof sped upwards, so high it was impossible to judge its length. Hundreds of stone pillars towered above them and fell into darkness. Badook halted and turned sheepishly to his masters'.
"What?" asked Angelus, but he too sensed the presence, a feeling so great as though being observed by thousands upon thousands of eyes.
"You led us it this you prat," said Spike dangerously.
Before them in the shadowy distance, and from midnight fissures high above, spilled thousands of Goblins. Wide lamp like eyes glowed menacingly in the poorly lit surrounds. The forces of Isengard let loose deafening cries matched by the high pitched shrieks of their foe. Swords were drawn and arrows fitted to crossbows. Battle was upon them when a cry went up and so loud was the shout that both armies stuttered.
"HOLD!" Angelus cried, his right fist raised in the air, again drawn about him a blue sheen of terrible power.
Both sides held and both waited in silence. Angelus turned to the forefront of his warriors.
"Boys," he said comically "No fighting just yet. You have to play nice a little while longer. Stay here, I'll be back soon."
As he turned to make his way to the far side of the chamber he called back.
"Spike," he said "Bring the dessert."
Across the mountainous chamber walked Angelus and Spike. Before them went Badook with a single flaming torch held high above him, his other hand cradled in front. Trailing behind Spike on a length of bloodied rope were the Elvish children, staggering from exhaustion and overpowering injury. They walked in silence being looked upon by innumerable enemies. As they reached the far side of the chamber they were halted by a Goblin commander.
"Howdy," said Angelus "Nice day."
The Goblin drew its sword and held it at Angelus' chest. The dark warrior stood at the same height as the vampire, clothed in fur and leather, an ancient symbol branded on his left cheek.
"Why have you come here?" it asked.
Its voice was hollow and raspy.
"To surrender of course," said Angelus with a quizzical look.
The Goblin looked confused also but then it gave a low hiss.
"Do not play games with me, man. Even a host as great as your's is dwarfed by our own. Since the Battle of Five Armies we have swelled to a number five times your's."
Angelus looked at the Goblin warriors before him, their eyes glowing pale blue, and simply held his hands before him, wrists upturned, fists together.
"Very well," said the commander "Your impudence will be settled before our master. Bring them." he cried and Angelus and Spike were seized and led forwards.
They were taken again through many corridors till before them rose huge wooden doors, carved from some ancient tree and wrought about with iron. Two sentinels guarded these doors and as they saw the commander's approach they were opened.
Before them sat a stone grey Goblin, as big as a troll, clothed in dark fur and chain mail. He sat lazily drinking dark liquid from a pewter goblet.
"The prisoners my Lord," said the commander and bowed aside.
The chief Goblin surveyed them for a time then spoke in a deep, powerful voice.
"You bring armies here? You seek to gain my throne? Speak, men!" he roared.
"We are not men," said Angelus looking seriously at the chief "And do not seek to take your throne. We came here to form allies; we seek friendship, not battle."
The chief laughed.
"You come here with ten thousand troops and do not seek battle? I do not take kindly to mistruths."
"Smarter then I gave him credit for," Angelus whispered to Spike.
"I bring a gift to show our good intention," said Angelus loudly again.
Spike pulled on the rope he held and the Elves fell to the floor beside him. The chief let out a terrible roar and swords were drawn about the vampires.
"You bring, Elves, here?" he shrieked.
"They are but children," answered Angelus "For sport, or whatever you desire to be their fate."
The chief looked upon Vana and Olvar and he smiled.
"Very well," he said "I will have the children, their fates, and yours also." He looked to the sentinels "Kill them."
Before any could move Angelus was before the chief.
"Bad move," he spat and the head of the chief clattered to the floor.
The other Goblins stood horrified. How was it that he killed their master? They did not hold anger; it was fear that grew inside them. They cast their weapons on the floor and cowered at the walls. Angelus discarded the chief's gnarled blade and retook his own from the captain.
"That's twelve kittens you owe me now William," said Angelus smiling.
"Yeah alright, alright," said Spike downhearted.
Angelus picked up the chiefs head and drew back the wooden doors. He turned to the sentinels.
"Send word for all to gather in the great chamber, you have five minutes."
Angelus and Spike were led through the honeycombed tunnels and finally came out onto a large stone shelf. Fifty feet below sixty thousand warriors stood in silence looking up at the two. Not a clatter of arms or the scrape of feet could be heard. Angelus raised his right hand and from it, bathed in blue light, was the severed head of the chief. Angelus cast it over the edge and it fell at the feet of the swarming warriors.
"Your chief is dead," said Angelus "I slew him as he gazed upon the horror in my eyes."
Vilya burned brighter and Angelus continued.
"You have found your new masters, and they are us. You will serve us completely or you will fall at our hands."
Silence was total and blue light erupted from Angelus.
"Do you SWEAR?!!!" he roared.
"We swear," the reply came of his troops, decayed and wrathful.
The light faded and Angelus smiled.
"Then to a new age," he continued "To the fall of Elves and men and to the time of the Orcs."
Cheers filled the cavern, shaking the walls, the bark of sword on shield chorused in the shadow and as it started to fade two small figures were brought forward, terror on their faces as they looked down at the hellish tide.
"A gift," said Angelus "For my brood."
Angelus held Olvar and placed a dagger to his throat. With a clean movement Olvar's scarlet blood sprayed the stone below and he was cast into the sea of black. The army cheered as he fell and rejoiced as the few nearest to the smashed figure fed on the carcass. Vana looked down knowing her fate. Spike knelt behind her and kissed her on the cheek.
"Bye little bit," he said.
Spike then cut her throat and cast her over the shelf also.
"What now?" he asked elated.
"We go to the bridge," said Angelus.
Through broken stone and charcoaled rock the vampires went. They descended deeper into the mine and were met by the sounds of construction. Resounding blasts like summer thunder rang through the torch lit cavern.
"The wizard cast it down my Lord," said a Goblin worker "We have only now made it strong enough for travel. It was needed, for the mountain paths have become dangerous even to us."
Angelus and Spike looked upon the fallen bridge of Khazad-dum. On the West side great wooden pylons and thick chain had been set to reinforce the Orcish labour. Like ants, hundreds of Orcs and Goblins went over the structure laying the new path. Cave Trolls carried great stone sleepers and carted the ruined slag away.
"How long until it is finished?" asked Angelus turning to a worker.
"I could not say my Lord."
In a flash of silver the Orc lay dead, so easily beheaded by the Elven blade that its lustre was not stained black with blood.
"It nears completion my Lord," came a familiar harsh voice that was the Goblin commander.
"They have two days to make it strong," said Angelus.
"Two days to make it strong for what my Lord?" retuned the captain.
Angelus twitched but smiled at the Goblin.
"To make it strong enough for sixty thousand troops to cross."
The captain stood aghast.
"You would leave the mines unguarded?" it hissed.
Angelus looked around the ancient delving.
"I have no need of it." He looked dangerously at the captain. "Or of servants that question me. Spike, kill him."
The captain drew his sword.
"To me troops, to me," he cried, but none came.
The workers stopped and looked upon him but did not move.
"They plot against us," the Goblin roared but still none came with aid.
All returned to work and Spike sauntered forward.
"How would you like it mate? In the head? In the chest? Or should I just surprise you eh?
The Goblin charged, sword raised, but Spike outmatched him. With a glide of steel the captain's arm fell, sword still in hand, his dusty cries muted by the Orcish metal smiths. Spike grasped the Goblin's throat, choking it, all attempts to free itself useless. He stepped forward, walking it backward until they stood on the very edge of the black chasm. Spike looked laughingly into its eyes.
"Off you go then," he said and withdrew his hold.
The captain fell back and down, down into the ice crystal lake, one thousand feet below.
"It's quiet," said Spike looking before him, a sea of green raising into threatening, swaying trees, the field veiled by the midnight sky. "Maybe no ones home," Spike prompted Angelus again.
"No," said Angelus "They're there, watch... Badook," he called.
The now healed Goblin sprang forward.
"Go to the edge of the trees," said Angelus curiously "Tell me what you see."
"As you wish," replied the Goblin and he leapt forward through the shadowed blades.
Through the low mist spawning in the distance, Badooks's dark form could just be seen, the furls of vapour broken by his pace.
"What's the point...?" Spike began but Angelus cut him off.
At that moment six arrows sped from the shadow of the trees, their ivory shafts piercing the Goblin armour and sinking deep into the flesh. The dark shape of Badook fell backwards and was lost from sight. Angelus grinned.
"Burn it," he said.
With that the cries of the generals went up and sixty thousand Orcs, Goblins and Uruk-hai sped into the ancient wood of Lothlorien.
Mallorn spread before the vampires, towering trees crystal white, glowing faintly in the sultry air. They were alone, two sole figures walking briskly through the eerie night.
"You know where we're going?" asked Spike with a furtive look at Angelus.
"Yep," said Angelus.
"You gonna tell me?" Spike prompted again.
"All in good time, William," replied Angelus, his pace quickening.
It was a strange place that sped off in the distance, the luminous spring all about. Intricate dwellings of birch and oak sat out, one hundred feet above, their milky stairs wending their way down to the forest floor. As they continued Spike caught movement from above, possibly no more then a sparrow flitting from one branch to another, but it unnerved him. Again he heard it, but this time from another direction, it sounded louder this time, and moving faster.
"Angelus mate," said Spike "There's something here."
"They're in the trees," replied Angelus "The Elves. They followed us here."
He looked on, not slowing at all. All at once the sound vanished.
"Down," roared Angelus.
Three bolts shot from the shadow striking Spike.
"That's it," he growled.
Spike reached to each and broke the shafts. His face turned and he drew his blade. Six Elves sprang from the trees, swords raised. Two fell at the blade of Angelus, the burning silver impaling both to the hilt. Spike rounded on two others. One fell to the ground, his neck broken, the other, his head cantering into the undergrowth. Two Elves remained, but they held.
"C'mon boys," said Spike "Ain't got all night."
Their golden armour blazed forward yet their eyes recoiled in fear. One reached to his bow and let loose and arrow. Spike caught the holly branch and cast it to the ground.
"Never again," he whispered.
He charged the two Elves. The left fell, his throat cut, while the other exhaled, his breath caught in his crushed lung. Spike's weapon stung through the Elven armour, the Elf sinking forward, further onto the blade.
"Good make this Elvish stuff," contemplated spike as the Elf died there upon his sword.
Spike withdrew the shaft and the Elven warrior fell to the ground, his ancient years and beauty taken. Spike looked up and saw Angelus standing with his arms crossed looking uninterested.
"Can we go now?" he asked Spike.
The blonde vampire re-sheathed his sword and followed Angelus.
The trees opened suddenly into a great glade of two separate levels. The song of water could be heard as a small stream flowed upon their right, ending in a reflective pool of dazzling starlight. A silver basin sat upon a stand of carved wood. Elvish words of power were inscribed on its sides. Their attention here faltered as an Orcish horn sounded somewhere in the distance.
"You do wrong to come here vampires," a voice came from above them.
From the biggest tree in height and girth came an Elf clothed all in white. Adorned on his head was a crown of silver and at his side was a blade of terrible beauty.
"I am Celeborn," he said "Master of these woods. You were folly to come here."
Angelus began to laugh.
"Folly?" he said "Right now sixty thousand of my warriors are tearing apart this forest. You've got no chance."
"More then Elves guard this land," said Celeborn.
"Yeah, well not for long," spat Angelus.
Celeborn reached the bottom of the stair and drew his blade. Angelus did the same with a hungry look about him.
"When you're ready," smiled Angelus.
Celeborn sped forward. With a cry he met Angelus. Angelus stepped aside and lifted his blade to shoulder height. Celeborn was dead. His bloodied form beside his fallen head, his opaque eyes hazed in death, the Elf's mouth open and stained with his blood.
"Efficient," said Spike.
Angelus snorted.
"I love this place."
His laugh subsided and he craned his neck.
"Bring the body," said Angelus.
Spike looked up also.
"Up there? Do you know how high that is? How do you expect-,"
"Spike!" yelled Angelus.
"Alright, just saying is all," said Spike.
He stooped down and lifted Celeborn's head and propped it under his arm. He grabbed Celeborn's body by the left ankle with his other hand and began to drag him unceremoniously up the spiralling stair.
"Sodding Elves," he added to himself as the bloodied head of Celeborn kept slipping from his grasp.
Angelus arrived in the hall of Celeborn, its blindingly white, pure radiance filling him. Behind him came Spike, a thick river of scarlet blood marking his path.
"Bout bloody time we reached the top... Hello?" he said loosing his grip on Celeborn's leg and dropping his head also.
Galadriel's eyes lingered on her fallen husband, silent teas streaming her face. She looked upon the vampires and spoke with power.
"I knew of your coming even before you crossed these borders."
Galadriel was not showing her unfathomed sense of loss.
"Intuitive little thing aren't you," said Angelus.
"I have looked into your futures and I saw death," she said "You should not have come here."
"You know your bitch said the same thing... and he's dead." Angelus adorned a pondering look "Can ya see the outcome?"
Galadriel stood from her ivory throne. A commanding voice shook the room yet her lips did not move.
"You will leave here."
"Okay," said Spike.
Until now he had remained quiet, yet he faltered at her command. He made to move.
"Stay where you are William," spat Angelus, and Spike stayed.
"Okay," he said again.
Angelus laughed.
"You're gonna have to do better then... AHHH!!!"
Angelus let out cries of pain. Galadriel had him in an unblinking stare. Angelus gripped his hair and fell to his knees, doubling up in pain and falling onto his side. Spike looked from Angelus to Galadriel then turned and made to attack. She now put her gaze upon him and a look of shock and fear was cast over his features. Time seemed to stand still, Angelus crying in agony on the floor and the innumerable images flashing before his eyes. Spike did not falter though. He took a step forward then was thrown backward by an immense invisible force. He crashed through the wooden structure that was the hall of Celeborn and fell hundreds of feet to the forest floor.
Galadriel looked again upon Angelus, her features unchanged.
"You will leave here," her call came again, this time louder even then the first.
"Get... out... of... my... HEAD!" screamed Angelus and Galadriel's gaze was broken.
She stumbled slightly and blinked in the blinding light. Angelus stood groggily, hatred in his eyes.
"Powerful little witch aren't you," he said.
Angelus made to advance but Galadriel lifted her right hand and from it came a lite more radiant and sad then any star in the heavens.
"You will stay!" Galadriel commanded pointing at the vampire, and Angelus halted, stopped by some ancient magic.
Galadriel's hand did not falter.
"Leave!" roared the voice again as though from her spirit then from her lips.
Angelus' fists clenched and he bent the will of Vilya.
"Leave!" Galadriel screamed once more.
"I... will... NOT!" Angelus spat.
Her magic broke and Vilya burned upon his hand, a terrible aura drawn about him, deathly blue and unmoving. Galadriel faltered. Her eyes widened as she looked upon his hand.
"Vilya!" she gasped "This was its fate! You took it from the hand of Elrond. A beast to wear an Elven ring of power... Never!" she hissed.
Galadriel met his eyes and drew herself up. Nanya erupted and so did she. Her hair was cast back and glowed as the sun, her skin radiating fluorescent blue. Her being seemed to fill the entire chamber. She would suffer this vampire no longer.
"Hear the voice of Nanya," she screamed, her voice deep and menacing.
She carried in her speech the power of Valinor and all the magic's of the Elves.
"You are cast out demon. You have no power here. I curse thee down into the depths of Mandos."
So bright was the light that shone from Galadriel that Angelus had to shield his eyes.
"LEAVE!!!" she bellowed.
So terrible was her last cry that if Angelus did not hold Vilya it would have been his end. But Angelus did not wane. He grew. His savage anger and hatred wielded by the blue stone. His face turned and his eyes shone amber, his vampiric face contorted with rage and struggle. He raised his right fist before him and Vilya exploded.
The structure quaked and the forest shook. A mile away the armies faltered, struck dumb by the radiating power. The sky coursed with light and thunder, the deafening tremors increasing. Nanya was matched, all the life and being of Elf and vampire raging against one another. Time stopped. For one moment all was ended was the power of their battle.
"LEAVE!!!" Galadriel screamed.
"NO!!!" roared Angelus.
He stepped forward, he broke her hold. Angelus drew his blade and struck her down, her ruby blood spraying across the crystal room, and in that instant Lothlorien was destroyed. As her form fell, the trees withered, the rivers turned black and the hellish Orc army devoured its Elven foe. The angelic light faded.
Angelus fell to his knees taking deep shuddering breaths, his eyes and mind burning from the onslaught.
"Son... of... a... bitch," Spike moaned as he stumbled from the blackened stair into the chamber, a deep gash spread over his right eye.
He bled from his mouth and nose and eyes, he crawled as though broken in many places.
"Eat her," Angelus sighed.
"What?" said Spike looking dazed.
"God damn it, Spike," spat Angelus getting to his feet.
He grabbed Spike by the back of his jacket and threw him across the room to beside the dead Elf.
"I said EAT HER!" Angelus yelled.
Spike put out his right hand and felt for her arm. He placed Galadriel's wrist to his mouth even as the silken lustre fell from her skin. Spike fed. He drained her then threw her arm back across her chest. He lay there gasping.
"You know, I don't usually hold with foreign food, but this Elvish stuff, it's not bad. The old lot tastes better then Slayer, don't you recon?"
Spike got to his feet as though recharged and slightly healed.
"I do," said Angelus "But there's more you have yet to take from her then just her blood."
Spike looked down. Galadriel lay there, as grey as stone, her ancient blood pooled about her from the cut in her neck. The floor and far right wall were stained red from the spray that sped across them. But in the darkened room one thing still shone. Like a star on earth it glowed on her finger, Nanya, the ring of Adamant. Spike lifted her hand and took it from her finger. It was cold as ice and he was transfixed by it. Around Galadriel's neck was a Mithril chain.
"This'll do," said Spike.
He took the chain from the fallen Elf and fed the ring onto it. As the latch of the chain clasped about his neck Spike gasped. He stretched out his arms for balance as a white sheen covered him. He breathed it in.
"I can't describe it," he said "I can feel it, I can feel everything. It's like, its like a constant orgasm is what it is."
"Yeah," said Angelus "But that bit wears off after an hour."
Spike looked victoriously to Angelus.
"What now?"
But Angelus did not answer. Very near to them war cries went up and Orc horns sounded once more. Spike grabbed Galadriel, lifting her as if she were no more then a feather pillow, and Angelus carried the two bits of Celeborn. They descended the stair and were met by three lone Elves fleeing the tides of Orcs and Goblins. The king and queen of Lorien were cast at their feet as they halted in terror at the site of the two vampires. They stood, disbelieving, until the swarm of black consumed them and smashed their forms into nothingness.
The new day had passed and night was falling once more. The heads of Galadriel and Celeborn were cast on pikes and set before the war camp. The grey mist of dying smoke clung in the air, a victory that left nothing more then ruined spoils. Angelus called the generals to council before the sun had set.
"We move tonight," he said "We make South. It's time we payed the men of this world a little visit."
"Yeah," agreed Spike "I am a bit peckish."
The camp was dismantled and repacked as the scarlet sun slowly sank behind the Misty Mountains. The horns rang out from the deathly trees and the regiments departed. South along the Anduin they ran, past the field of Celebrant and over the river Limlight. Not fifty miles away the forest of Fangorn loomed upon their right, threatening malice in its boughs. The crossing of the Limlight was difficult; it marked the Northern border of Rohan and of the world of men. Its sides were steep and it flowed quickly from the forest. A path across was found but soon destroyed by the armoured feet of the Uruks. The Wold opened up before them, a vast expanse of grass and farmland.
The moon was reaching its highest point when spike looked upon it. On the very edge of his demon site he thought he caught something pass over its silver face. He stopped and watched as again two more shot over, moving as black wind. Before he could stop Angulus a deafening scream filled the air, a high-pitched hellish scream that made the army tremble.
"Nazgul," the warriors yelled "The Nazgul have come."
Nine foul winged beasts swooped down upon them, harnessed by the kings of old, iron and shadow. The screams came again and the troops scattered. Angelus and Spike were left alone, the hellish steeds oaring the Goblins into the shadows. The nine landed in the bitter grass and one called to the vampires in a deep hiss.
"We bring tidings from The Eye," it declared "You carry something to great want of the Lord Sauron."
"Well there's your first mistake telling us that mate," said Spike.
Angelus looked uneasy for the first time. He could feel the power of Angmar. It was not fear he felt but the fate of potential dealings with the Wraiths.
"Lord Sauron gives you two choices," the Witch King declared again "Relinquish the rings of power to The Eye and join his service, or perish."
Angelus seemed to break from deep thought.
"So what's with 'The Eye'," he said "Is there 'The Foot' or 'The Nose' perhaps?"
The Witch King screamed but the vampires did not falter or recoil in fear. Indeed they laughed.
"Get back on your donkeys and fly home," said Angelus "We bow to no one."
The Wraiths hissed deeply and their cries went up again.
"A friendship with Sauron is not easily thrown aside. We will not leave until an agreement is reached," said the Witch King.
"I thought one just was," said Angelus raising an eyebrow.
The Witch King placed his hand into a black leather pouch on the side of his saddle. From it he pulled something large and round draped in black satin cloth. The Wraith dismounted and stood before Angelus and Spike. The vampires had to look up to meet the horrible metal mask where the Wraith's face should be.
"He wishes to speak to you," was all it hissed.
It withdrew the cloth to reveal a palantir.
"Hey," said Spike "Just like the one in Santa's workshop."
Spike went to move forward but Angelus held him back.
"No William," he said "I'll go."
Angelus walked up to the Wraith. He looked into the black orb. Its insides were darker then night yet woven with silver. The Witch king held it before his eyes.
"Place your hand upon it and look deep into the palantir."
Angelus did so. He raised his right hand and rested it on top of the black sphere. He looked into its depths and saw only void. He tapped his pointer finger on the orb and stole a quick glance at the Wraith.
"Um, I think its bro-,"
But Angelus did not finish. He squinted and looked deep into the palantir's core where a spark of red had formed. The silver mist swirled and caught flame. Angelus' eyes opened wide in shock. The once black shape was an erupting of fire, consumed with ever moving red light. Angelus tried to remove his hand but he couldn't. His arm shook and his hand burned. He growled and tried to release his gaze. Angelus turned his head, closing his eyes, yet his head was snapped back and his lids seemed to be forced open. The vampire was in pain. The Eye had him.
"What is your name?" it demanded.
Angelus tried to break free, withhold at all costs, but it was in vain.
"Tell me your name," it said again.
The voice was dead and cold. It held no fair tones but did not course with falsity.
"Angelus," he said "My name is Angelus."
"How did you come to be in this world?" it asked.
"I don't know," said Angelus.
"LIAR!!!" The Eye roared "I see your mind. You would do well not to lie to me."
Angelus could not withstand his word.
"Some magic, I- I don't know exactly."
"You have something of mine I want," it said.
Rage filled the vampire.
"They are mine," he spat "I took them. I keep them."
The Eye went silent.
"If you wish to wield them then perhaps we can cooperate," it said finally.
"I told your boy already, we bow to no one," said Angelus.
"No," said The Eye "You misunderstand me. I do not seek to rule you, simply to reach a... combined initiative."
"No," said Angelus without hesitation.
"Oh," returned The Eye, now with the tone of one losing patients "But I have something you desire. Yes, I deem you would like this very much."
"I doubt it," said Angelus.
The Eye turned to look over Angelus' shoulder. He followed its gaze. From blackness came a sweeping vision, green planes of emerald grass, cantering horses and villages with thatched roofs. It sped on, a great structure atop a hill, crowned with wooden steeds and adorned with gold. And so it went on, over a crystal river, running from clustering mountains. They loomed up. The quickening sky fading as the mountains soared upon the left. Into a great crescent the vision fled and before Angelus was a great stone structure, a Deeping Wall and a great ascending tower. The vision swept the wall. Men and Elves were there, preparing for battle. Into a fire lit room it finally went, and there, at a handsome crafted table sat... the Slayers. Angelus began to laugh, almost hysterical at the feeling rising inside him.
The palantir went dead, no more then a blackened stone. Angelus stumbled slightly.
"What happened mate?" asked spike "You just went all quiet like, not moving, not talking, and what's so bloody funny?"
Angelus shook his head and looked to the Witch King.
"Tell Sauron he's got himself a deal."
The Witch King recovered the palantir and got back upon his beast. He screamed to his eight and they all took flight, speeding into the East.
"What did you see? What did he show you?" Spike asked.
"Lots of things Spike... Lots of things," said Angelus "He showed me battle, he showed me his land and we laid our plans."
"So where are we going?" said Spike
"To Mordor," said Angelus "We are now allied with Sauron."
He laughed aloud then gave a great sigh of composure.
"But first," he said and he looked away South-West "First William, we are going to visit some old friends."