Bellow passed the fields, long grasses rolling gently in the winds. Bilbo sighed, watching with content eyes as the scenery moved below them. "Really is rather pleasant to fly dragon back, eh Gandalf? Saves one the soreness of eagle feet on tender arms!" The wizard merely nodded, his mind elsewhere. They traveled quietly for a time.
"Frodo, Bilbo... I must say this now, we are taking a great risk. I know not what lies beyond here, nor what challenges we may face..." Frodo smiled softly, "Gandalf... may we land?" The wizard turned to regard him curiously. "Land? Whatever for? Our destination is still a ways off." The wizard reached over and grabbed a hold of the dragon's sharp hair to steady himself. "I... I think, since we are here, that perhaps we should... what I mean is, they would probably want us to... I want to say hello to Sam, and Merry and Pippin, I want to see our friends."
Gandalf was silent, then smiled, "Frodo... if we go to them, they will ask of our quest. I have no wish to bring more into our company, and if they discover what we are about I fear we may have no choice but to let them come."
"Out of curiosity, where are we bound Gandalf? We fly away from the Shire, I see that much, and should we hold our course I do believe we will pass over Isengard soon!" Gandalf sighed. "I know not where we fly, only that we will certainly know when we arrive at our destination." The dragon gave a mighty flap and the ground bellow fell further away bellow them.
.... .... .... ....
The dark... has it ever been this dark... no, there was always light before. But now, now there is nothing... My Lord... I wish... I wish to go, home... I want... I want the horizon, and the waves... across the sea... the gulls calls. And the ships... to carry me home...
A strange wetness on chilled cheeks, a wet hiss... The dark, it shreds my very being... I want the sea... and my horizon, Numenor, my home... Wearily Murazor rose, reaching threw the darkness for another, and finding none. The Witch king bowed his head. So we are fallen at last, why do I weep? Is there enough of me left to weep? Are they safe, my fellow fallen? Do they now grieve, and can they still see... see their homes..? Ah, we gave all... And all, for nothing! A cry filled the air, not the call of his kind, but a strange screaming sob, a mournful wail so full of pain and sorrow, and loss...
Once more the fallen king lay upon the ground, deep eyes, empty of fire, slowly leaked dark tears... for he understood, the darkness tore away all the folly, all the lies... Now he could see, that he had left behind his whole life, his soul, his future for, for a single ring... A harsh sob, Oh the joy of the Nazgul that cannot regret! And help me, someone help me that now I can! I felt sorrow, but to this that was nothing! Khamul, Khamul forgive me... if you can... if any of thee can... Yet can I ask that? When I cannot... I cannot forgive myself.
...The Nazgul lay still. Every now and than a whimper, a hushed sob, a grieved moan would arise. The dark tore threw them like the lashes of a Balrog, stinging as bitterness dripped into the wounds. No one would see the tears they shed, nor hear their cries. And all screamed in a mix of pain and rage as the others faded into the shadows, as the darkness tried to swallow them whole, snapping like a twig the bond that had bound them together for ages. From a distance Sauron watched silent, Morgoth laughing not far behind him. He sighed, disappointed in their weakness, and let the darkness take them. Save one, the one that lay at his feet.
My witch king... even your loyalty breaks now... As your brethrens weakness disgraces me before the one I serve. Why do you weep, what are these tears? You are in my shadow, why do you fear?
They are weak creatures. Useless, as I told you. The others did not seek you as you claimed they would; now even your pet betrays you. Sauron bowed his head. Morgoth chuckled, turned away. Keep that one with you, his memories are still strong. The dark titan bent and lifted the wraith by the throat, watching the others eyes. Yesss...his mind is at least strong, come my liegeman, enjoy this while it lasts, for soon the light in his eyes will die, and this will be the last time you will see the ocean. Sauron moved over, looking threw his servants eyes. "Why can he still see the sea... it is in his eyes..." Morgoth looked down upon him, Is he not numorean my fool? It is as with elves, when their spirits start to die, you will always see the waters in their eyes.
"My lord... you said, that the Valar has sent others to us? So when they arrive, we can use their presence to..."
There will be little time. Only one of us will be able to escape, and my liegeman,
That one will not be you.