They felt it more than heard it, the scream in the distance. In Faramir's arms Aragorn was coughing harshly, a trickle of blood ran down his jaw. The steward raised his head only briefly, "His breaths are evening out, and there is nothing blocking the flow now."

Gandalf nodded, turning his head back to the shadows.
"...That was Murazor, he calls forth a challenge."

Gimli shook his head, "How can he know we have come? The fool dosen't deserve to be saved! I'll tell you what I think, I think we ought…dragons and brimstone!" He ducked just as Adunaphel struck, splitting the space above the dwarf's head with the whoosh of steel on air. He whirled around again, gauntlets flashed as he drewa fist back to strike. Gimli parried him with his ax, but the wraith was desperate and maddened, the dwarf's streanght would not be enough to faze him. He bore down with all he had left, hissing with exertion as he bent double. Red eyes inflamed with pain spit fire inches from Gimli's own.

The crack was deafening in the emptiness. Adunaphel sank to the ground panting, his hands in the gauntlets shook. Gimli stared at the wraith in stunned silence, then stared at the two pieces of his mighty ax, then the wraith again. More than just his hair was red now. "You rotting piece of fellbeast dung! My Ax! My best ax! I get dragged here, on a HORSE, to save your sorry spirit! Go through more trouble than any dwarf would invite in, and you do what? You ruin my weaponry! You empty-headed air-based floating spook! You skinless, boneless, brainless, deranged wind-instrument!"

That was all Adunaphel could take, he fell to his side and promptly began to roar. Gimli stared at him in stunned horror as the ringwraith barked into his arm, one hand beating the seemingly non existent floor. Gimli looked at Gandalf and whispered in a voice tinging on traumatized, "What ails these Ringwraiths!"

Gandalf at a momentary loss for words opened his mouth and simply let it hang that way. Faramir was fixated as well until a soft and strained voice chuckled, "Gimli has that effect on people when he starts shouting…" Faramir looked down stunned.

"Aragorn! You've woken!"

Instantly the wraith ceased to exist as the Fellowship crowded around the King. Frodo alone did not look over at him, he stared at the wraith that now lay panting on the ground. He walked softly forward, and knelt beside the still form. "…you attacked us, are you that crazed with fear, with pain?"

The wraith looked at him; his breaths grew steady as his eyes grew cold.

had I succeeded, I would have been doing you a service.

Frodo did not reply, his eyes had become glazed, his hands fell like lead at his sides.

"He has given his final flame. Even if this quest is fulfilled, and we are free to leave when what must be done is, when you see the dawn one last time he will not be with you."
Adunaphel smiled, and said nothing in reply. But his eyes held Frodo's with a strange power that he had not seen before, and he gazed transfixed until the wraith looked away.

…The right to rule, the right to be the king, can only be determined by your destiny little one. And all great kings know, when they follow the call into that pinnacle of existence where only those who were kings before them have trod, that they must pay the price…

…they must go willingly to the sacrifice, ring bearer. They must kiss their death like a lover, dance with it like a falcon to the sun. They must lower their heads to give their consent, and then, the king must die.

And he knows it is time.

Murazor fell again, the ground hard beneath him but he rose, screaming his battle cry. Again the gauntlet cut him, again he fell. He pulled himself back to his feet, hissed. The boot caught him in the throat, cutting off the sound. He crashed against the unyielding ground, twisted on his side. Weakly his hands scrapped for purchase, he pulled himself into a crouch. Anatar stood tall as a mountain before him, swimming in and out of focus like a dream. His knees started shaking, buckling. His legs gave out, no longer able to hold him. He would not rise again. Quietly, he turned his head to the side. The still form of Aragorn seemed to fade, then vanish completely. Where the king of Minas Tirith had lain now rested nothing.

A short wheezing filled the air, it took a moment for the realization to come that he was causing it. A trembling took hold of him, racking him with the feel of ice water running down his nerves, leaving numbness in its wake. Something flashed past his fragmenting mind, capturing his attention…

( "Do you regret any of it? Any of the crazed and foolish things we've done?" the sea breeze caressed their faces, and in the distance the cry of the gulls echoed the fading light. Khamul stood illuminated in the doorway, the wind blowing his graying hair about. His eyes were playful, affectionate. From below them in the city a gentle lull had fallen. "We've had some times, eh Murazor?" a chuckle, the other king stood beside him, the fading sun lighting his face, "Yes... yes we have, but I'll warrant you, they've not yet ended!" Khamul smiled, his eyes on the sea, "The gulls call the elves, and the dwarfs feel it in their bones, but we men... we have no calling for when the end comes..." A hand, firm and warm, descended gently on his shoulder. "Nay, we have no warning, but we have a hand in our fates... I will not leave this world without you beside me. I know not where I would go, but it would be unbearable alone."
The Easterling smiled, "Nor I without you, we have stood together to long to be parted by such a thing as death. So we are agreed, neither will leave without the other." Murazor nodded, watching the last of the light fade. "We are agreed...it always steals my breath, watching the sea in the evening..." Khamul laughed…)

Sauron smiled, his eyes bright as the form below him failed to stand, his eyes grew colder when he saw the tears. "Have we become human enough to cry again, my witch king..?"

Murazor said nothing, his breaths were getting lighter, and his eyes began to glaze. The Miar knelt beside his servant, one hand reaching out, almost curiously touching the tears. The other curled around the wraths shoulders, pulling him up so he could better watch those eyes before they closed. Soft, rhythmic, with his failing breaths the wraith was murmuring something, he bent his head to hear, for the sound only grew lighter…

…A warrior falls to the war, A star in mornings sky, The greatest tree must wither, And even gods may die…
…I hear, the gulls are crying, their songs lead to the sea… And though this body soon will fade, I know that I am free… and the springs still lead to rivers…
And fires still will burn, I lived, died, I fought, I fell,

And now the sleep the faded keep, I have never begged,I will not now,

But I will pray… not for myself.I was strong in life,I am strong whereI lye...

...Valar, if you hear this whisper…this final, fallen's cry… comfort Khamul and the others I leave,
when their time has come… to…

…Murazor fell still. The last of his air passed gently between his lips, his head fell back against the Dark one's arm. In the darkness...Sauron gazed mutely down at the still form, the Witch king of Angmar, Lord of the Nazgul, last of his proud Numorian line, was gone. A whisper escaped, breathy, choked off by a pull in his throat as he voiced his mind. "…to die?"

Frodo wept against Adunaphel, the wraith held him in silence, but his eyes wailed for them. Khamul stood stiff beside them, his head bowed to his chest. And none in the fellowship noticed.

Aragorn turned his head to the west and rose to his feet. He stood there, surrounded by the others but feeling completely alone. His face was dry, but his eyes were wet..

And Gandalf raised his head to gaze into the blackness above them,

And whispered to himself, "...now, you are free."