Author's note: I own nothing but my dragon. :)
The fellowship was on the road again. The woods lay behind them, warm and comforted Aragorn was deep into the story, the others rode close by to listen. "And once you had gone we pushed all the harder, he had pulled Anantaboga from him and was working to keep him there. I was distracted avoiding both feet and tail, and Gandalf was beside me.
I had lost track of the Nazgul, and Murazor. I heard his screech and looked up… he had driven the blade into Morgoth's hand, then he was tossed to the ground, the sword remaining imbedded. I sliced with Anduril as he fought to pull Ringil free. Anantaboga went for his eyes again...
I fell, and rolled to avoid being crushed. Murazor was still not moving, and the other wraiths were untouchable, they would have killed me if I had come too close, there was no light in their eyes. Gandalf was shaking, the light from his staff flickered. I heard Anantaboga scream, the light went out completely and for a few moments I fumbled in darkness. Then I felt Indur behind me, he said to me. "Remember when we flew? Use that memory well." And he was gone again. I rose and ran forward to where I heard Gandalf chanting. The ground shook violently.
I fell, Gandalf beside me. The dragon lit up the black with his breath. The door was open, and Gandalf was pulling me toward it. Murazor had risen and was saying something I couldn't hear, the Nazgul were waiting for us on the other side. Murazor and Anantaboga were still not with us." He paused, looking back to where the nine walked in silence. "They were fading in and out of sight, almost as if mist…"
Murazor. He was silent, detached. The iron helm once more covered his face. Indur and Khamul flanked him. The other nine behind. Gandalf drifted back to them, falling into place beside the Nazgul. "…it is time." Murazor drew rein, the beast shuddered below him. The rest of the Nazgul grew still as well. Ahead of them the fellowship stopped in confusion, Legolas turned to Aragorn and grabbed his hand.
"Look at me! Do not look behind you!"
"Why? Legolas release me!"
"Do not look at this! It is not for us to see!"
Gandalf held out his hand. "…Do you remember, long ago, at the gates of Mordor when all the world was lost, when you were seeking the way back, and you returned to the gate? I asked you for the strength to die. And you accepted." Murazor did not reply. "So it has been, when a great evil falls his apprentice takes his throne. As Sauron followed Morgoth, you are set in the path of iron blood, to succeed the Eye." Aragorn jolted violently and tried to turn, Legolas pulled him away again. Anantaboga stepped between the fellowship and the wraiths.
"Will you fight me for the throne of blood, Witch King? If so, draw blade now. We approach the sea line, and I will end this there, if you do not resist me here." A soft hiss, then another, Gandalf did not retract his hand, he winced when Murazor grabbed it, gauntlets digging into the skin.
Do you dare… mock me..?
The forest around them grew still.
Do you still dare… to play with me?
Blood welled around the steel tips and dripped to the grass. Murazor released the hand and seized the wizard's throat.
…I have the power… to follow the shadow, so you tell me; do you try to tempt me? Insult me or inform me? Do you seek another Dark Lord?
Gandalf did not answer; he held the wraiths gaze quietly. "I seek, nothing more, and nothing less, than what you will give Murazor. As we stood before, I seek to prevent disaster, and you are the key." The wraith hissed, but there was no ice in it. "We have accomplished our task, have you ended yours?" The hand around his throat tightened, and then released altogether.
You ask too much of us wizard… we are not… and never have been… passive. I have no wish, to be yet another symbol to rally against. I have not the stomach for it anymore. If you fear, that without a shadow, the light will fade, you are well afraid. Seek your dark lord elsewhere white one. My reign… is already done.
Gandalf nodded, he stretched out his hand again, "I did not want another dark lord, and you are too bitter to contemplate light without darkness. But I say it is possible, and this is the start. I offered only a question, to see if our struggle had been in vain." He took the gauntlet in his hand. "It was not." The two were still a moment, then Murazor spurred his horse into a gallop, the rest followed. They raced ahead across the opening fields, their grey robes billowing behind them.
"Gandalf."
"Yes, Aragorn?"
"He may try to kill you."
"…no Aragorn. He will not. He is not so weak, that he cannot face sharp words."
"Mithrandir, when we reach the sea, what did you mean? What will become of them?"
"I do not know Legolas, I know only that it is there I was told to lead them, and so there we are bound."
Frodo slept on, Samwise beside him. Faramir kept watch that they did not roll of the horse. "I feel, almost sorrow, and I know not why." Bilbo, half asleep, turned to Faramir and lifted an eyebrow.
"Why? Oh I can tell you that. The greatest adventure my boy. This was it." Faramir was quiet for a moment.
"We stand at the start of an age without fear of the shadows… what I have dreamt of since I was a boy… and yet…"
"Yet you may miss some of it? You will, I promise you that. There will be nights when you lye awake long after the rest have gone to bed, and think to yourself, oh how I wish I were running for my life again! Don't scoff! You will, and then you will fall asleep on the road to Mordor, or here, just going somewhere down your memories, and the roads go ever on…"
Gimli walked up beside them, his horse in tow. "The weather is clear, and no rain in sight! We may well get the rest of the rest of the way back dry!" In the distance thunder rumbled. Gimli's beard drooped. "…I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have samsgraplesnurgrusedsmmnn…"
By the time the storm hit, they were well into the fields. Once more the dragon's wings provided shelter. The fellowship huddled together, keeping warm. The Nazgul stood a distance off, they watched the sky, uncaring of the rain. Khamul passed close to Murazor, trembling lightly. The wraith lord placed a hand on the others shoulder.
So it came to pass. The sea before them, and middle earth behind. One by one the wraiths passed into the lands beyond. The first was Ren, and the last, Murazor. The sea rolled gently, no ship was in sight, and the sun was falling into the waters. Murazor gazed across the waves, a strange light in his eyes, the roar of the surf swamping his senses. Something flashed on him, Faramir dropped his reigns in shock, Gimli nearly choked. Murazor turned back to them, his eyes old, and dark, and yet… Aragorn strode forward until they stood face to face.
The waves soaked his legs and he shivered, the Numorian king was silent and still. At length he drew breath, " Heir of Isildor, king of men. You, and your son, are the last of this proud line, tracing back to the Noldor, through Numor, to the city white, the last light of the old world." Aragorn nodded. His eyes clouded slightly, and Murazor hissed lightly, "I have done you harm, and I cannot undo it. Nor would I, if I could. But look at me now, King of men, see me when I was flesh and honor still. Forget us, and our twisted fate. You have the world we squandered." His eyes flashed for a moment, then stilled. "Do not make the mistakes, of we who sing in silence."
He reared up above Aragorn, dwarfing him a moment and Aragorn startled drew away. Alone in the surf Murazor screamed, wraith and man, spirit of the storm, but mainly mist. Then he was gone, dispersed, scattered as if it had all been a dream, and the quest and Wraiths themselves as if they had never been. The waves crept upon the shore and washed away his footprints.
Oh fade away all hopes to pass,
The hour dawns too dim
The sea bereft of lover moans
And sheds her tears for him,
King of Numor, icy cold, beset upon by fate,
Much you lost and far you fell,
Did hope arrive too late?
Author's note: only 2 chapters after this! Three at most! What becomes of the nine?