Sauron vs Darth Vader Chapter 6 The Conquered One, a star wars fanfic

Chapter 6 The Conquered One

Miss me? Hahahaha. Right. Thought I'm sure you did miss this story. This chapter I'm particularly proud of near the end. Enjoy.

Trooper 115 marched forward, among the other Stormtroopers he had been assigned to. Due to his "assistance" in taking Lothlorien he had been promoted to captain, and now commanded a nine man squad. As he marched his heart was sunk low within him. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was wrong. He watched another squadron leading Verana away with her arms cuffed behind her. She looked back, meeting his gaze with a sad and betrayed gaze.

He wanted to speak to her, to tell her that he had not wanted this. That he hadn't befriended her so as to make her a hostage. But he couldn't. She turned and moved on through the ranks of Stormtroopers. John sighed. He wanted to step in, to stop all this, but it was the Empire doing this, and he had always trusted the Empire. Plus, even if he decided to stand against them there was nothing he could do, for there was an entire legion of incredibly loyal Stormtroopers standing against him.

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Vader marched in the middle of his army, still unable to shake Galadriel's gaze, or the images he had seen.

I am doing what is right, he told himself. With the power of the One Ring I can take out the Rebellion once and for all and end this conflict.

But the image of him, struggling through a land of fire with his hand burning in eternal fury sprung back to mind. Was he really heading down that path?

"Lothlorien has fallen sir," General Agravas said.

Sauron turned, and faced the goblin general.

"Now will you tell me what you hope to accomplish by allowing your enemy to take over your lands?" Agravas asked.

Sauron huffed, his breath whistling through the mouthpiece of his helmet, causing the goblin to cringe.

"Such is the folly of the goblins," Sauron murmured. "The inability to be completely ruthless, to understand just what I am doing. I will still have Middle Earth, but Vader will be the one who gets it for me. And when I find it fitting I will remove him."

Sauron chuckled darkly, before drawing a wrapped up parchment from behind him. Spreading it out on the table it was revealed to be an altered map of Middle Earth. The map was altered though, for it showed the empire of Mordor, the dark nation in the west. And then it showed the east, broken, torn to pieces and united under a single empire, a single power. Imperial Middle Earth. This new nation had to be at least five times as large as Mordor. Agravas' eyes widened.

The Sith Lord felt a tug at the back of his mind, something directing him to stop walking and to turn to the east. Staring out across the fields of Middle Earth he began to wonder.

"Galadriel!" he commanded, and his Stormtroopers dragged the defeated Elf Queen to him rather roughly.

They threw her to his feet, like a bag of garbage. On her hands and knees, Galadriel lifted her head up and stared up into the eyes of Vader, showing no fear or pain.

"What lies to the east?" Darth Vader demanded.

Galadriel slowly rose to her feet, and listened as the Stormtroopers drew their weapons and trained them on her back.

"Mountains," she said. "And then beyond that is the Shire. The home of the Hobbits."

Dugal heard this, and walked up to Vader.

"Lord Vader," he said. "With your permission I would like to lead the conquest further on into the East."

Vader nodded.

"Yes Admiral. See that this is done."

Dugal turned away to carry this out. Galadriel looked down, saddened that she was being forced to help them. Vader watched her quietly, for there was something in her eyes that seemed to speak to him. When she looked at him it was as if she stripped him off his armor, of the shield around his mind, and revealed him for who he really was. Vader looked away, and walked to the front of his army.

"How do I get this guy, this Sauron," he murmured aloud. "He must have a weakness. There must be a way to get him away from those Wraiths which guard him."

Sauron stood at the edge of his tower, chanting in some ancient language long lost to the world. But one word remained consistent.

"Morgoth! Fora sa chuya. Morgoth! Por immos erhen. Morgoth! A Udûn agrav!"

Then a dark purple light appeared at the center of the tower. Sauron stepped forward, and entered the light, cringing as the dark energy was absorbed painfully into his flesh. He screamed as it burned him, like white hot iron running up and down your skin. But he endured the pain, for he knew it would give him great power.

The Orc Commander Erekai and his forces watched from the shadows as the Imperial Army approached Rivendell.

"When they strike from the west," Erekai began, "we shall strike from the east."

The Orcs nodded quietly, before disappearing into the mountains.

Isildur and his armies had fled back to Rivendell to seek the aid of the elves. But Elrond did not know what to do.

"So," he said, pacing back and forth. "Not only do we have to deal with Sauron, but now a great White Army that has appeared in the West."

"They wielded weapons unlike any I've ever seen," Isildur explained. "They fired bright bolts of light, almost like arrows, except the 'arrows' disappeared after touching flesh. They left powerful and deadly burns."

"If what you say is true," Elrond continued, "then there already is no hope for us. The army marches East, soon they will be here. You do realize that my forces are inadequate to mount an offensive against such a powerful adversary."

"But we mustn't give up hope," Isildur protested.

"No," Elrond nodded. "You are right. But right now all we can do is retreat."

The attack was swift and devastating. A mighty AT-ST destroyed the main gate, and Stormtroopers poured in. Elvish archers fired upon their attackers, but there arrows did not pierce the strong white armor. Then, simultaneously a large force of Orcs and Goblins ambushed them from the East, splitting Rivendell's forces in half. Elrond called for a retreat, and the army of Men and Elves fled Rivendell. Then, as quickly as it had appeared the Orc army disappeared. The Imperials had Rivendell.

John struggled forward, across the ancient landscape of Middle Earth. He and a squad of special force troops had been sent West to find and conquer the wood elves, whom were rumored to live there. Verana was sent with them, since Dugal believed that only an elf can know other elves. John could not look at Verana without feeling a bad feeling in his stomach, a feeling of shame. He lead his forces deep into the woods, before telling them to stay put. Then he took Verana, and moved further into the forest. When he was far enough away from his forces he began undoing Verana's handcuffs.

"What are you doing?" she snapped, glaring up at him.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked. "Releasing you."

Undoing the lock, John drew one of the cuffs off of her, only to receive a stinging slap on the cheek as payment. Wincing and putting a hand to his face, he turned back to find himself staring into eyes filled with anger, and betrayal.

"You kidnap me, and put me under the mercy of your Imperial friends and now you expect me to still be friendly with you?"

"I didn't kidnap you," John protested.

"Well you sure didn't do anything to help me," Verana glowered.

"What was I supposed to do?" John fought back. "Each one of them had a gun, and I was unarmed. If I told them not to kidnap you they would stop trusting me and treat me like a prisoner."

"Well that doesn't mean you should just bring me in as a prisoner to your stupid empire and leave me to be mistreated! If you really cared about me then you would have stopped them!"

"I do care about you!" John shouted so loudly that the birds in the forest stopped chirping, and for a second utter silence covered the land.

"Then prove it," Verana said glaring.

John unflasked the other cuff, and drew it away.

"You are free," he said. "Is that not proof enough."

Verana stood there for a while, just staring back at him.

"There's nothing you can do," she said, her voice suddenly sad. "There is no where I can go. No where in Middle Earth where I'll be safe from Admiral Dugal. No matter where I run, he will someday come to take the land, and I will be in chains again."

"Not in chains," John said, still feeling loyalty to the empire. "Just under another form of government."

"Are you sure this one is right?" she asked.

"The empire has always been right," John defended.

"And dragging me and my friends from our home was right?"

John just looked at her, unsure of how to answer.

"Let me ask you one thing," Verana broke the silence. "What am I worth to you? Certainly not much more than you're precious empire. What, you agree to follow through with their demands and then try to make up for it by releasing me? Then what will you tell them? That an innocent, fragile, and defenseless elf maiden overpowered a big strong armored soldier of the Empire?"

"I'll think of something," John said.

"Is everything all right sir?" John looked up to see one of his Stormtroopers standing off to the side.

Verana turned so that he wouldn't see that her hands were unbound.

"Every thing's fine," John said. "I was questioning her about the location of the Wood Elves."

The soldier saluted, and marched off. Once he was out of sight John turned back to Verana. Sunlight shone against her face as her bright eyes gazed at him thoughtfully. The light captured her quiet elven beauty fully and perfectly. Her features so perfect, smooth and fair, as if carved from marble.

"Nothing you ever tell them will satisfy them," Verana argued. "And therefore, I will stay here!"

"You won't run?" John began to smile suddenly.

Verana shook her head, surprised at his behavior. John then chuckled quietly. Verana, bewildered, began to mistake his amusement for mockery.

"Fine then," she snapped. "Laugh."

"The thing is," he said, smiling of course, "you say this as if its because you are mad at me. You act like the reason that you're staying here is to punish me for what I've done."

Verana's face was filled with confusion.

"And you think... that that's not why I've chosen to stay here?"

"No," John continued. "Listen to you. You're worried. You're worried about me, about what they'll do to me if I let you run off. People usually act this way around people they like."

"What?" Verana huffed, a slight blush filling in her marble cheeks. "I don't like you at all... I..."

"Yes you do," John's smile grew much larger now. "Admit it. Look, you've gone crimson."

Indeed it had, Verana's face was bright red with embarrassment.

"Well..." she smiled faintly, lowering her eyes to the ground. "Maybe a little..."

Slowly she lifted her gaze and looked up into John's eyes. They just stood there, staring back into each other's eyes, savoring the moment. Verana's heart began to pound inside her chest, for she had never felt this way about anyone before. But why? Why did it have to be for him? She knew that no matter what they would never be able to be together. Their lives were literally a world apart.

John grinned at her, causing her heart to flutter over once or twice. Verana's gaze fell to the floor again. But then John put his finger against her chin, and raised her face back up. Then, he leaned in, heart pounding in his chest. Their lips met, and they kissed each other. Verana reached out a hand and slowly caressed John's cheek, the gentle touch of a lover. Like a butterfly alighting on a flower. They pulled away, and then embraced. A small tear rolled down Verana's cheek, like a dewdrop rolling down a blade of grass. John held her, his eyes brimming with emotion.

The two lovers were in their own little world, floating among clouds and bubbles. Here the wind was musical and the air smelled of cinnamon all the time. The cool air of spring blew against them, whispering a secret message. Surrounded by their perfect world they did not dare draw away from each other, for fear that the world would break.

And then in the silent corner of the wispy world, a faint ethereal shade appeared, flowing in and out of existence. Its white armor glowing in the silent zephyr's and phantasmal shadows. For a second the apparition silently loomed in the background, like the Angel of Death, waiting for the dying to say their final words before carrying them into the netherworld. For a second, John opened one eye and caught the gaze of the white shade. But then the phantasm faded out into the wind, leaving only the clouds, the wind, and the two lovers holding each other close.

As the soldier disappeared behind the hill it was enough to tear John awake. And then the dream world faded before his very eyes as any dream will. He pulled away from Verana, and gazed back over to where the apparition had stood. Then, he reluctantly refastened Verana's cuffs, and lead her back towards the clearing. Their fate now rested in the hands of God.

Like it? Its called my attempt at making some indefinate sounding, higher level fiction. I've read stories with a lot of description written all metaphorically like that, but never really written it in this fashion until now. Lets call it a convenient step forward shall we? Leave me a nice review and eagerly await the next addition to this story.