CelmeSauron in a suit is different, but then I think he would be a stylish person if he was a human. If anything he would do it to disguise himself as good. People always want to be friends with the 'in' group. Keep reading!
Elvin BlueEyesThanks for joining in on this story too! Keep reading!
curious one : Love the name! That is sooper kewl! But no, Morgan isn't a Mary worshiping catholic, they aren't all you know. But please keep reading, our stories are never anything less then perfect.
Winkle : That was humble.
Snodgrass : I wasn't trying to be humble Winkle. Honestly people don't know how to take a joke.
FallenTruthWe love our fans, old and new! We want every story we do to be as kewl as we can make it. As for talent…it's natural, but also carefully honed to be as sharp as…a very sharp object! Keep reading luv!
AraelMoonchildOf course he's original! We would settle for nothing else. If I see him portrayed as a dark haired elf one more time I think I'll jump from a very high building! Keep reading!
AnnamariahWhy on earth would Sauron give him a ring of power? I really can't see why he would do that. Why do you ponder out loud? Good question!
Winkle : That was hateful!"
Snodgrass : Oh shut up!
Luthien and Tari Oronar : Yes! I hate looking from a notebook to the screen and from the screen to the notebook! It stinks! But please, we like the Boromir story! And as for this one, we'll work on it as long as "Welcome to Rivendell' doesn't get in the way. I'm glad you like Morgan he's going to be around! Keep reading!
ZarzYou want him back soon? That would make the story so dull. But I'm glad you like it that the character…I mean, real person is a christen. It makes sense that a Tolkien fan would be catholic right? And if Morgan had hung around that long he would have been really old! We always love compliments so please, let us know when we are deserving of them. Please keep reading!
Erasuithiel Under A Rock : This is after the defeat by Luthien, but he has the ring of power so he can do whatever he wants. At least that's how we're writing the story. And no Morgoth isn't around anymore. (bad Morgoth! Into the void with you!) Okay, you can come out now!
chelseypudgeThanks for reviewing. We want to keep the love going from story to story. They won't all be connected but for now these two are. Or will be. Keep reading!
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Chapter Three
And Life Goes On and Ends
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The scene was cozy and regular, the candles from the Mass still burned and a few people still milled in the foyer, talking in hushed voices. Sixteen year old Morgan sat talking with the Father.
Father John was old and gray haired. He rocked slightly in his special chair. He often commented that heaven had better have rocking chairs or he was staying on earth. Right now he was deep in conversation with the young man beside him.
"Sometimes I don't understand what to tell people, Father. I was talking to a woman the other day and she said that if there was a God, that he wouldn't allow all the evil in the world." Morgan held up his hands helplessly. "I never know what to say to that."
"Morgan, remember that God doesn't allow evil in the world. He allows choice. It all began in the garden of Eden, he gave man the world on a silver platter. But because he loved his creation he gave man the choice." Father John sat back and rocked his chair back and forth a few times.
"What would be the point of free will if God allowed only the choice of goodness? God did everything he could to point Adam and Eve in the right direction, but in the end the choice was theirs."
"Even though he knew they might turn away from him. Even though he might lose them?" Morgan shook his head. "I don't...I can't understand that."
"God was prepared Morgan, he knew them so well that he had a salvation plan before he even brought them into being. He hoped he never had to use it, but like I said, he knew them." Father John said.
"Remember Morgan, evil isn't by God's doing. Men are evil because they chose to follow their own desires instead of God's. They can be holy just as easily by following the will of God. It comes down to that basic choice."
"So evil only gets the chance to work when we chose it?" Morgan asked.
"Exactly, the question now is which path you're going to follow." Father John smiled.
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Morgan jerked up with a start, something had woken him. He looked around the clearing he had fallen asleep in, it was empty. The cold of a late autumn night had settled over everything and as he breathed, Morgan could see little puffs of fog. As he tried to clear his thoughts he heard it again.
A scream. Somewhere near, a woman was screaming.
The first thought that ran through his mind was that it was Anne, but the voice wasn't familiar. It was older, like one of the women from colleges was yelling to someone across campus. But then again no woman screamed like that unless something was terribly, terribly wrong.
Morgan stood and listened a moment to gage where the sound was coming from, and the relative direction. Then he headed off into the woods, twigs and branches whipping at his face.
Morgan, you always wanted adventure. He thought warily. But there was nothing exciting about this, just a deep feeling of fear. He looked around trying to locate the sound again but the fog closed in around him. The trees were only dark looming shadows that seemed to threaten every movement.
"Dear God, please help me find her." he prayed silently. Cupping his hands around his mouth he shouted.
"Where are you!"
The cries were renewed but another note rang in them this time. Hope. The sounds were coming from his left, and Morgan drove after them like chasing a cloud. Suddenly and sharply he burst into a clearing like the one he'd left, and eerily the fog was hemmed back, by something other then nature.
And certainly the creatures enclosed where not of nature. Twisted and black, they hunched over in hideous malformation, their eyes glowing yellow in the gloom of the predawn light. But Morgan's eyes fastened on the form them beat relentlessly, the woman screamed mindlessly.
Without considering what the consequences of his actions Morgan ran forward yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Go on! Get out of here! Aaaahhhhhhh!" he hit them in a flying tackle that would have made the football Couch proud. The impact was violent and the three went rolling away from the woman's body. It was two against one, but Morgan was much taller and heavier then either of the two orcs. Morgan pulled one up and punched it's fleshy face twice before the second one grabbed for his neck.
For a few moments the struggle was all Morgan's, but a well placed gut punch sent the orc wheezing away. While Morgan wrestled the other to the ground the first orc felt around for and found a stout branch. Straddling the orc Morgan landed hit after hit, hardly considering the other until a blinding blow sent him reeling and to the ground. As the orcs became to triumph over their prey, the sun's rays appeared over the horizon white and hot. But the orcs pay no heed, under cover of the thick forest they had plenty of time to drag their victims away to a safe, dark place.
In one accord the trees lifted their leaves and bent making room from the light as it streamed past the blue mountains.
At first strike, blindness.
Second strike, the skin bubbles and burns.
Third strike, the body ignites.
Fourth strike, death.
As the bodies crumbled and turned to ash, a tall black clad man appeared from behind one of the trees. As he comes into view his waves a hand and the trees return to their original positions. Darkness falls again as the sun climbs slowly higher into the sky. The woman lies groaning softly, but she cannot move.
But Sauron pays no attention to her, he focus is the young man. Blood seeps from a gash on his forehead and all around it a purple bruise begins to rise.
"But still alive I see." he muses quietly. He straightens up and smiles to himself, "Remarkable."
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"Wallace?" patiently.
"Um?" absently.
"Hello?" annoyed.
"What?" surprised.
"We need you in the briefing room please." Morrison said.
"Oh, all right, just let me grab my pad." Wallace jumped up and they proceeded down the hall.
Lieutenant Morrison looked at the younger man and for the millionth time thought of what a contradiction that term was. Wallace was most certainly younger then Brian Morrison, he couldn't have been more then thirty. But still, there was something about the other man's eyes that just didn't fit the rest of the mold.
But whenever anyone asked Wallace about himself all they got were carefully ambiguous answers. No one knew anything about him other then the fact that he was new to the area, he was a great artist on many levels and that he was married. But then again, no one had ever met his wife. Unlike the other officers, Mr. and Mrs. Wallace kept a little more to themselves.
In person Wallace was free and easy to get along with, quite a talker and smart as a whip. But in the personal history area, very shady and standoffish. They arrived at the briefing room, and so further contemplation of his fellow officer was forgotten as they faced the DA. Alexander Senge was an unpleasant man in good circumstances and now was not a good circumstance.
He drummed his skinny fingers on the table and looked decided bilious. "Well," he snapped, "What have you got on the Van Pels case? It better be good, there's a lot of press on this one."
"We have all the initial data in and so far all we know is…nothing." Morrison said. He slid the file over the table. Senge opened it and glanced at the first page.
"Why don't you just give me the skinny, okay?" he demanded. Officer Lumley stifled a laugh with a loud cough and received a sharp glance from Senge.
"It's like this, we have no evidence of the normal kind. Not a print, not a hair. Nothing. All we have to go on is the absence of this kid and the mother and daughter's testimony of his kidnapping." Brian explained, wincing at the thread bareness of the case.
"I thought we had an ID on this guy." Senge went on. "I saw the pictures up all over the news, scared the crap out of me."
"No calls in. Dead air." Morrison replied.
"And that's another thing that's odd." Wallace broke in. "Usually we get a lot of false alarms. You know people say they saw the suspect with their second cousin once removed whom they know was a drug dealer. We haven't even had that."
Alexander drummed his fingers again, "Then what do we have?"
"The only lead, and I mean only lead is the possible link to an internet site." Morrison said. Senge's eyes fairly bulged as he listened as Morrison told him Anne's story of finding the site, and the events immediately following.
When he was finished Senge took a long breath and hissed it back out between his teeth. "Do you understand the implications of what you're saying?" he asked.
"Yes. A world wide shut down of any related sites and full investigation of those existing." Brian answered. He rolled his pen along the table.
"I'm telling you right now that's not going to happen!" Senge snapped. "I am not going out there and announcing such an…" he filled in with a few ill chosen words. Wallace winced slightly and turned away. Lumley looked bored and Morrison, used to the abuse, listened calmly.
"..and you sure as…better come up with something more substantial then this." and he slid the file back across the desk with a snap. Brian caught it just before it went off the table. Senge stood , smoothed his suit and went out.
"You watch it Morrison, if this goes bust, I'm taking you down!" and the weaselly little man left.
"That was unpleasant." Wallace said finally. It was such an understatement that both of the other men burst out laughing.
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"Oh, someone just give me an aspirin!" Morgan groaned. He reached up a hand and touched his head. "Oh! Blood! That's great, just what I needed." He rolled over and waited for the world to stop spinning before trying to sit up. As he did, his St. Francis necklace fell out of his shirt.
Morgan focused on the tiny engraving of the saint and smiled grimly. "I have the feeling that if you were here that you would be saying something about how wonderful it was that you weren't beheaded." He sat up, "So…thank you God that I have a head to ache."
His eyes fell on the woman. She lay still, very, very still. Crawling over as quickly as he could Morgan reached out a hand to touch her.
"She's dead, if that's what you're wondering."
"You have the world's worst timing, did you know that?" Morgan said. He saw that she was indeed dead, silently he crossed himself and prayed briefly. Then he closed her eyes and covered her face with his jacket. "Did you do that?" he asked quietly, and pointed to the dead woman.
Sauron looked surprised. "I? Kill her? Why would I bother? She's human." he said this as if it would explain all the problems in the world.
"I think you know what I mean." Morgan continued, his eyes fell on the crumbled piles of orc remains. "Her shirt says, 'I Love New York' not from your time."
Sauron clapped his hands slowly and mockingly, "What a Sherlock Holmes! Yes, she's not from 'my' time as you so childishly put it. You forget that.."
"..you don't have time and it means nothing to you. Yeah, I have it. What about her?" Morgan gestured to the woman.
"She was my last experiment." Sauron said. His eyes gleamed red and he continued. "She lasted longer then any of the previous humans. She lived here for exactly a month, only to meet such a tragic end."
Sauron suddenly found himself slammed into a tree and then Morgan's fist struck his jaw with a resounding crack. Pain exploded in Sauron's head and stars danced across his vision as another well aimed punch hit his nose. Then the hands holding the dark lord in place disappeared and he fell to the ground, blood pouring from his nose.
Morgan, furious and breathing hard, backed away. Sauron touched his hand to his face and felt his jaw and saw the blood staining his hand. "You hit me." he said.
"And I'll do it again if you want." Morgan said.
Sauron continued to stare at his hand, but this time his eyes focused on the finger that gleamed even through the crimson fluid that covered it. "You hit me." he repeated. And his eyes began to glow hot and white. "How could you hit me?"
Morgan froze in his place and realized that Sauron had lost his self assured attitude, if for a moment only. The dark haired man stood and he seemed to grow taller and his voice deepened, "How did you reach past it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Morgan said, somewhat uncertainly.
"Tell me!" Sauron demanded, his tone childish and almost pleading. His eyes bored into Morgan's with undisguised fury. Pain surged through Morgan's body, forcing him to his knees again. Finally, he croaked out, "I…I don't know…"
Immediately the pain stopped and Sauron's hands pulled him from the ground. His hold wasn't painful but dangerously contained, as if he could break Morgan in two. He set the young man down and backed away with a laugh.
"I'm…sorry. I sometimes don't know my own strength." he leered. "But if you ever do that again I will kill you and your family."
"I didn't do anything you shouldn't have thought of." Morgan choked. "You deserved it."
Sauron looked at Morgan and then his eyes dropped to the body of the woman. "I suppose that you would think so. I was going to return her home but you didn't let me get to that."
He waved a hand and the body disappeared slowly, fading away leaving Morgan's jacket on the ground.
"Where did she go?" Morgan couldn't help asking.
"I sent her back home. She'll be found and her family will mourn her. but that's how it always ends with them. I had thought she would have lasted longer, but she also should have know better then go roaming around after dark. Orcs only come out then. Sauron frowned and rubbed his bottom lip thoughtfully, "I'll have to change that someday."
"God, you're twisted." Morgan picked up his jacket.
"Yes…yes, I am. Isn't it great!" Sauron smiled. "But remember Morgan you're next. That girl was merely an easy target. Already you have shown yourself much more then a mere target. The next step of my plan is to break you down more and more."
"What is this?" Morgan scoffed, "The twelve step plan to thralldom? Forget it, I am already taken."
"Serve the Valar do you? Good luck, they won't do a thing for you." Sauron said. He turned away before Morgan could say anything. He seemed to dissipate into the air around him leaving only a dark, defiled feeling behind him.
"What's a Valar?" Morgan called. But the empty forest mocked him with silence.
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For a few moments, Celebrimbor held the Three in his hand. The white adamant of Vanya shone like icy stars from the delicate entwining of the mithril band. Yes, he had been the creator of this Ring. Yet it had been the soul of another, so proud and beautiful, that had inspired the maker.
Nenya gleamed beside it, the rich sapphire set in the smooth golden band. With it's two companions, the deep blue glowed deeper, the power grew stronger.
Narya's scarlet brilliance contrasted very much from the others. The fiery heart of the ruby was overwhelming to gaze upon: yet the same fire was reflected in the dark eyes of it's maker.
Then, with a swift, almost careless movement, Celebrimbor let the Rings fall into the small, rough leather bag he held in his other hand. The strong, supple fingers knotted it shut securely, and the forger turned the elf standing beside him.
"Alagos." Celebrimbor's voice was somewhat terse "You understand what you are to be carrying."
The tall captain of the Haven's guard nodded slightly.
"Yes, my lord." he answered quietly.
"No chances must be taken." the dark eyes bored into the other's "None."
"They shall not."
"Give them into no other hands but the King's." He said this last word with a faint, yet resigned bitterness.
Again Alagos nodded, the true weight of his mission growing every moment.
"Go."
For an instant, Alagos looked startled "No other instructions?" he ventured.
Celebrimbor glanced away, then back to the captain. A strange sort of pain passed over his face, and he said, harshly
"Go, now."