Aragorn watched the Nine prepare, watched them take the shards of armor from their flesh, watched as they tore their robes to cover their wounds. Something was stirring in him, a hope, a thrill. Old battle lust long forgotten. (Why is it that their moves, a strange grace, that both fuels the blood and makes one feel weak in spite of oneself!) Ren hissed, removing the last of his ruined armor. …Well… that is finished… how fare you Adunaphel? An angered hiss. Tis sunk too deep! …I cannot pull it free! …at least I think not, not without loosing a limb!
Uvatha moved beside Aragorn, looking down at him. When the time comes… what shall you do? You claim your brethren commeth, but you are without your form. Can you fight…? Aragorn's eyes deepened. "I believe they will bring my body with them, if not…" The Wraith said nothing, merely moved away. Ren loomed over him then. He seemed to speak, but closed his mouth instead. All of the Wraiths seemed to be waiting for something, (what? What more do they want of me? I have promised them help, what is it they-) a clang, the wraiths trembled, eyes closed as if to blot something out. Dwar hissed a warning, the nine seemed to fade into the shadows. Aragorn froze asa wraith seized him, pulling him into the darkness as well. Into the small area where things could be seen stepped a strange figure. Tall, fair of face, his hair long and golden across his shoulders, not a man, something more?
He bent over the Witch King, watched his still form for a moment. "My loyal traitor… how fare you now?" Murazor did not stir, could not, he lay still. A cruel smile twisted the man's face, "We were both wrong, you and I. You said I could not break you, I claimed I could, and we were both wrong." he seemed to anger suddenly, a hand lashed out, grabbing the wraith by the throat and tossing him to the ground. "For your failure I am trapped here! For your poor abilities I will never leave here!" He seemed about to strike again, Aragorn felt the Wraith behind him cower. But the blow never fell, instead the Dark One sighed, his hand ran in almost a caress over Murazor's still cheek. "..If only I had had a thousand like you… I could not have lost, even if they had destroyed the ring…"
Sauron rose, his eyes remained on the one below him, "To think we have fallen to this…" he turned and disappeared into the shadows, the sound of his footfalls echoing back to them. Then all was still.
…Ha…had he had a thousand like me…
Gandalf stood with the others, his eyes shut,(The gateway looms open, and yet we cannot enter it without one of the Nine…Khamul, you proud fool…) a crashing from the bushes, Bilbo emerged looking a little worse for wear. The fellowship tensed as Khamul strode out behind him. "Bilbo! What happened?" The hobbit chuckled, "Oh, the trees in this forest are moody is all! Are we ready to go?" Gandalf turned his eyes silently on the wraith. The Nazgul raised his head, eyes alight with defiance. "That will depend on our spectral friend, we cannot pass through the gate without him." Bilbo smiled, "I don't think that will be to much of a bother. Shall we?"
The water was like glass below their boots, so that it hardly rippled as they passed. The gate rose above them like a giant serpent of ebony death. The smell of rotting roses filled the air. Legolas shuddered lightly, (To this mere gate, Mordor is nothing. The feel that seeps from this is far worse…) Gimli looked his way, sensing his unease. Faramir watched the Nazgul carefully, watching as he moved into the lead, walking before Gandalf and placing his hand upon the gate.
Something stirred, the water at the far end of the lake rippled as something slipped out of the deeper recesses, cold eyes regarded the group for a moment. The wraith raised his hand to the door. The creature roared, lunging through the water toward the party. A voice rose over the roar. "In you fools! Follow him! He knows the way!"
"Gandalf! You have to come with us!"
"The door is closing Gandalf! Hurry!"
A short figure pushed the stubborn one in, and the gate fell shut with a clang like a death knell. The beast threw itself at the gate, to smash it, to seal the way forever that no man had any right to enter. A white paw caught it by the throat and hurled it into the trees. A Weight pressed into its side, a large maw of white, the creature closed its eyes…
…And Morgoth opened His.