Gandalf stood still, as still as he dared. Beside him Aragorn watched with wide, stunned eyes, as the three ring wraiths tore their lord to pieces. "…Gandalf…" he whispered, "Gandalf I thought the wraiths were bound to the dark ones will, so how is it that this…" a bone splintered with a crack, causing all present to wince. "…how did they overcome the pull? Their strongest was Murazor, and he…"

"Died at Sauron's hands, yes Aragorn I know. He was crippled early on, I think. He had little left to fight with, though I doubt not he had the will. But this should be far beyond them. Sauron was far too strong to be taken down in this manner… No Aragorn, they are under a new hand now I fear…"

Legolas moved closer to them, brushing Gimli as he backed away. "More than a new hand, they have a new flight leader. Khamul will be in ill humor at this. Mithrandir, we must go, we cannot reach them like this." Gandalf nodded, eyes distant.

"…It cannot be that the Valar wish us to face Morgoth… that is beyond us, but if they have bound themselves to him…" Ji Indur let out a satisfied hiss, the two wraiths at his side studied the group with new interest. Faramir coughed,

"…I hate to interrupt my friends, but they are staring at us." Gimli grumbled under his breath and pushed his way forward.

"And I without even my ax."

Frodo stared, eyes wide in terror at the tip of the blade, it touched the edge of his nose and a line of blood was running lightly down his cheek. Khamul panted, his eyes loosing the glazed hue of red, settling back into their unnatural brown. "…Khamul, are you… can you…" the wraith king looked down at the small hobbit shaking below him. Something twisted his insides. (What have I become Murazor…? I journeyed with this creature, shared camp with him. I protected him… a fool! I have always been a weak fool!) Enraged the wraith drew away with a snarl. (He is not my concern! His fate, his death, they are nothing to me! No bonds of kinship bind me, no ties! No promises or debts!) the red had crept back in, seeping over the iris. (…I should not feel… such pity. For such a waste of…) the red faded out again. (I have always been weak, I was weak so I leaned on you, I leaned on Annatar, I leaned on anyone…)

Frodo watched silently, sensing the inner conflict, but wisely saying nothing. A soft warmth had touched his hand again, seeping through the missing finger. He clasped his other hand around it tightly; hopping the Wraith hadn't sensed it as Sauron had. Khamul sat, his head bowed. (I cannot hope for help from you anymore my friend.) His head turned, regarding the ring bearer. (I must do what we would have thought was right, in the days before. I must be a king again…) Bilbo flashed before him, smiling that sad, distant way. (…if only to prove I still can.)

Rise ring bearer… we must find the other fools… they do not know their way in the dark… Khamul turned his head, sensing others. Adunaphel, Hoamurath and Ren watched him quietly.

…Indur, has become crazed… we sense his descent into madness… Akorahil and Dwar have cast themselves with him. We must… seek the mortal king…Murazor wanted him spared… Khamul shook lightly. (Murazor wanted to spare the mortal king? I am somewhat surprised… but Murazor worked in strange and mysterious ways.)

Then we will seek them. We must Uvatha, we will need superior numbers…

Thought none within but Wizard and Dark One knew it, the gate between worlds was almost fully waned. Soon it would be thin enough to breach.
They were running on borrowed time, and it was running out.

In the shadows spreads the stain…
The Nwalmaer lights the spark,
And Nazgul and Dark lord both are undone
As the Ring remembers its mark.

Alas, alas, the end must come,
Death is the friend of late,
But be not fooled by his toothy grin
You cannot escape your fate.