The Clutches of the Past

She awoke in a gray and shadowed room. It was large and open, though still stifling. She shuddered. The air was cool, but so thick that she couldn't decide if the cold was more uncomfortable or not.

Black jagged stones and rocks seemed to make up the structure she was in. A large, black throne was in the center of the room, but it was empty. In fact, there weren't any other furnishings.

And yet, it was familiar. Maybe that was too strong of a word, but she had the oddest sense that she'd seen this place before.

Suddenly a voice echoed in the room, something deep and large, but yet she saw no one. The words made no sense to her, but her body shuddered from the feel it gave her.

She tried not to jump. Her muscles tightened and she remained still, but her eyes darted back and forth. From one corner of the room came a freakish figure, tall, dressed in black and sharp armor. His head was massive in size—maybe because of the large helmet that seemed to encompass and even embellish on it. His mouth was uncovered, and as he came forward, he grinned.

Selanae blinked, hard. His face was all mouth. Does he even have eyes? All she saw was a large mouth, black lips yet a pale complexion, with red cuts that stretched wide as he grinned darkly at her.

"My master bids me welcome you," he said. What is it? She didn't know if she could consider the thing human, or what. Her eyes focused on those teeth—crooked, slimy, almost bloody, and jagged.

Selanae realized she might want to answer, but decided on silence. She stared at him, not with wide eyes, but almost bored.

"Do you know who I am?" the mouth asked. His helmet seemed to stare at her. She did not move, but stared off just over the thing's shoulder. Her expression was neutral, uncaring, hard. She was a wall to this.

She hoped.

The mouth almost turned to look over his shoulder, but he stopped. Those teeth flashed at her.

"You think you can ignore me?" He took two slow, purposeful steps to her, his teeth never hidden. "You are in Sauron's tower. The Great Eye wishes to know what you know, and you will answer to me, the Mouth of Sauron."

She cracked a grin at the name. Mouth of Sauron?

Fitting.

"I answer to no one," Selanae said evenly. "I haven't and I won't start now."

The mouth tilted his monstrous helmet to the side. "Yes you have, and you will." Selanae raised an eyebrow. "Tell me what you know about the Ring of Power."

His voice suddenly seemed loud and it echoed off the dark stone walls. Selanae narrowed her eyes at him, and then suddenly refocused on the wall behind him. She said nothing.

"There is no sense in refusing," the Mouth continued. "You did not refuse me before." Selanae looked at him sharply, and the Mouth smiled. "Ah, you do not remember. Sauron the Great knew as much."

That helmet and mouth seemed to stare at her, and Selanae froze, transfixed by the words he spoke. Her veins became icy, and the air around her gripped her lungs and held her hostage.

"You were always obstinate," he said. "That is why Sauron valued you so much. He can value you still." The Mouth started to circle her, his head never turning from her. "You were his prized killer. No one could slay like you did. None could stop you. Your darkness threatened all."

As he spoke, images flashed in Selanae's mind. She tried not to see, but they came at her like rushing water. Her body flinched and she blinked rapidly, trying to rid the images.

She saw herself—dressed in black, a skin of some sort. Metal studded the material, whatever it was, and sharp spikes penetrated the gloves and boots she wore. Her hair was darker, though stiff and imposing in style. Her face was pale, a stark contrast to the rest of her image, and yet even more accentuated by hollow eyes and dark lips. It made Selanae shudder.

"You remember now," the Mouth continued. "A queen you could have been. A queen you still can be." He stopped pacing around her, and reached out to touch her shoulder. His metallic grip weighed heavily on her. "He will let you come back."

Come back? The horror she felt was strong and real, but instinct told her there was more.

"Come back?" she voiced. She glared at him. "So I left. Is that why you tried to kill me?" She could see herself, stumbling in a river's waters. The water was cold, but it washed away her darkness. It was warmer than her heart or the blood running through her veins.

And suddenly, she could see them. Orcs, goblins, foul servants, especially one horrific and disfigured man. The Mouth, she knew immediately in memory.

"Did you know that you failed to kill me?" she asked, taunting. The Mouth snarled silently, but did not say a word. He resumed his hunter's pace around her. "Did Sauron punish you for your incompetence?"

The Mouth snarled again, this time with a sickening wet growl.

"You should thank me," he hissed, seizing her with a harsh grip around her throat. Selanae glared at him but held still. "You have a chance now. Join me. By my side, we'll serve Sauron."

Selanae's eyes did not leave his mouth, those gnarled and bloody teeth. She felt his grip tighten around her throat, but not to threaten her life. His mouth was open, but he held his breath. She smiled, cruelly. He almost seemed pleased.

"Never."

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Eomer jerked suddenly as he rode along with his men and allies. Something startled him from his revelry. His imagination ran wild.

He hoped it was just imagination.

He kept seeing her. Her screams made his blood stop and his heart drop to his stomach.

But they aren't real. It's just in your head.

He hoped it was just that.

How he fretted for her. She was in the enemy's grasp. Who knows what she faced? Who knows how she was being treated . . .

Eomer's fist tightened hard around the reins, and his teeth bit hard into his lips.

"What ails you, Eomer?" he heard to his side. Eomer quickly whipped his eyes towards the voice, only to see Aragorn. The Gondorian king gave him a friendly, concerned smile.

"I . . ." Eomer sighed and cast his gaze to the gloomy sky. "This is torture, Aragorn." His friend raised an eyebrow. "This pace. This slow and steady march, when my heart and will begs me to hurry." A faint wind stirred, easing the heat of the noon hour and blowing wisps of Eomer's hair to his face.

"You worry still," Aragorn said. The Rohan heir nodded.

"We are two days still from Mordor," he said. "I cannot deny that fear grips my heart, not for the final outcome or the fate of my people or even my dear sister." He drew a deep breath, and with it Aragorn's rapt attention. "But for her."

Aragorn nodded slowly, taking in Eomer's words and meaning. He waited for the younger man to continue.

"I'll instruct my men to follow you to what ever end, Aragorn," he said. "I'll ride ahead at once, to the Black Gate and beyond."

Aragorn tipped his chin up, almost as if he'd argue, but he said nothing for several moments. Eomer's heart almost stopped, even though he did not need permission to do what he sought.

"The way inside will not be easy. How do you plan to be undetected?" Aragorn asked.

Eomer frowned, but did not answer. He gave a short nod to his friend and patted him once on the shoulder. And with a forceful jerk of the reins, he moved out of the slow and steady march of the army fighting for Middle Earth. He spurred ahead on his horse, fast and towards the fire and shadow he could not wait to reach.

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There was insurmountable pressure in her mind. Her head throbbed, both from the blows the Mouth of Sauron dealt her, and from the constant bombardment of thoughts and temptation in her mind. She wanted to fight, to escape, but something told her it would be folly for her to do so—not just for her, but for the destiny she was bound to.

But even now, the Mouth of Sauron did not relent.

"Your skills have grown. The Nazgul cannot compete with you," he hissed in her ear. It was a compliment, but his tone ate away at her soul. "How they tried but even they are in awe of your darkness."

Again the image of her former self flashed to mind. She remembered meeting the Nazgul, each one of the nine poisoned kings. She remembered them, watching her . . . almost in fear.

"You are Queen above them." He was right next to her, whispering foully in her ear. "Take your place, and Sauron will forgive the past."

The past . . . He meant leaving Sauron. She still didn't know how that came about or why. Nor did she know how she ever came in league with the Dark Lord. But they still want me.

The Mouth stood to full height, leaving her cowering on the ground. He snapped his fingers, and two beings came for her, lifting her to her feet and leading her away. She could feel the death in their grip on her. Her eyes wouldn't focus much, but she knew what they were. Two of the Nazgul themselves, serving so closely to the Mouth. The Mouth had grown in position.

And he wants you to serve by him.

Directly to Sauron.

Her head ached harder, almost like a splitting pain. The dark world around her turned darker still as the Nazgul led her somewhere within the tower.

They dropped her in a small room. She only knew it was small at first by the lack of echo. The Nazgul left her, the sounds of their sharp armor clinking away. She did not move at first. Selanae's whole body was sore, her mind, her heart, everything—it was hard to breathe still.

But slowly she opened her eyes.

Before her hung attire she recognized well. It was the black skins and armor she used to wear. The metal studs were polished and new-looking. The claws on the gloves and spikes on her boots shined at her. She crawled forward, touching the edge of a spike. It cut her, and blood sprang quickly from the small wound.

She sucked on her finger, the blood washing away in her mouth. Her eyes studied the armor, and drifted to the side, where a sword and set of daggers hung on a stand.

Those made her get to her feet. The set of blades were wavy, serrated and guaranteed to kill. She could almost feel the fleshy resistance when she had used them, the tearing pull and the sound as she yanked the blade from her victims.

She froze, staring at the blades, the armor, everything that was her.

Selanae reached for the black material.


a/n: I hope you enjoyed the really quick update! I realized the previous chapter was short, so I wanted to get to this quickly. Please review—you all will love the next chapters.