Chapter 6:

Irideth woke with an aching head and a dry mouth. Wherever she was, it was cold, too, and she huddled further beneath the blanket.

Wait… blanket?

Eyes snapping open, Irideth sat up with a start and immediately regretted it when it sent another stab of pain spiking through her head and revealed where she was.

She was lying on a straw-covered stone bench in what was plainly a cell. It wasn't too small, but was clearly meant to house no more than one or two people. A gray linen blanket had been draped over her shoulders, and a jug of water and a small tray of bread and cheese had been left on the floor by the bench she was lying on. A single window above the bench allowed a little light to filter in, but most of the light was provided by a torch affixed to the wall opposite her cell's locked door.

Trembling, Irideth pressed herself closer to the wall and wrapped the blanket around herself, burying her face in her knees. She stayed that way she didn't know how long, only moving when her thirst became too much to handle and she drank a few swallows of the water.

A door somewhere further down the hall banged shut and Irideth flinched, curling further in on herself as footsteps proceeded down the hallway toward her cell. She attempted to become even smaller when the footsteps stopped right outside her door.

"Oh, little one," Khamul said; Irideth dared to peer up for half a second and saw him and Murazor standing in front of her cell door. Irideth buried her face in her knees again, hugging them close to her chest when Murazor unlocked the door and pushed it open, wishing with all her might that she would disappear into the wall.

She flinched when Murazor's hand brushed over her arm as he moved to pick her up and less than a second later she heard him still above her.

"Child, there is no need to fear," Murazor said softly. "We will not harm you, and I strongly doubt Lord Sauron will, either."

Irideth swallowed thickly and looked up at him with suspiciously shining green eyes and the most miserable expression Murazor had ever seen on a child her age. Even though he didn't need to, he exhaled heavily as he picked the child up despite her flinch and tucked her against his chest.

Irideth buried her face in Murazor's robes as he carried her out of the cell and down the hall. A metal door slammed shut as he carried her out of the cell block and began descending a flight of stairs. She quickly lost track of how many twists and turns they took; even looking up barely made a difference. All the halls looked the same.

"Where are we?" Irideth asked quietly as Murazor carried her along.

"Barad-Dur; we are approaching the throne room's antechamber."

Irideth went rigid. "Th… throne room?"

"Yes; we are going to present you to Lord Sauron."

Irideth felt as though her heart had frozen in her chest when Murazor came to a stop in front of a set of double doors that blended almost perfectly with the walls that enclosed them.

"Child, when we enter, I would recommend remaining silent unless you are directly addressed. Answer any questions Lord Sauron puts to you as completely and honestly as you can. Is that understood?" Murazor asked, gentle yet stern.

Irideth gulped. "Y… yes, sir," she answered quietly.

Murazor examined her critically for a few moments, ascertaining her honesty, before facing the door again and pushing it open with a near silent whoosh. Irideth screwed her eyes shut, shrinking as small as she could when Murazor walked forward. She did her best to keep her breathing steady, feeling that familiar burning pain begin in her chest and throat. Feeling just brave enough, she opened her eyes.

Her damnable curiosity overpowered her fear for the briefest instant, drawing her gaze forward as Murazor stopped and bowed low; Irideth reflexively grabbed onto his robes.

And abruptly froze when her eyes met a pair that glowed like hot embers.

Sauron was not a shadow or a disfigured wraith, as Irideth had expected. In fact, if it weren't for the eyes, she would have thought the figure was an elf.

Sauron was pale, plainly tall even when seated on his throne. His hair was a shade of orange-red, slightly curled and falling a few inches past his shoulders. It was partially hidden beneath a crown that looked to be made of wrought iron. He wore black robes trimmed with crimson; a cloak with a crimson underside was draped over the throne beneath him. The symbol of the red Eye was embroidered across his chest.

Sauron's gaze moved from her to the now standing Murazor, and Irideth could breathe again.

"My Black Captain," Sauron greeted.

"My Lord," Murazor returned with a slight bow of the head. "I bring you the girl."

Sauron made a 'come hither' gesture and Murazor walked forward. Irideth nearly stopped breathing, eyes impossibly wide as she was deposited carefully in Sauron's lap. The first thing she felt was the heat that radiated off of him, as though he were a living furnace.

Then a hand gently grasped her chin, the other arm encircling her back to prevent escape, and Irideth once again found herself meeting that burning gaze. If anything, his eyes were now more intense, and it took all Irideth had not to look away. The burning in her chest intensified, her throat feeling like it was on fire.

Enemy. Threat, a voice as familiar to Irideth as her own whispered in her mind. She swallowed thickly.

"Why can I not sense your fea, girl?" Sauron asked quietly, gaze boring into hers.

"I… I don't know, my Lord," Irideth said so quietly it was nearly a whisper. "Mur… the Captain said he couldn't see my life force, either. At least not very well."

"Where are you from?"

"A small hamlet in Rohan."

"Were you born there?"

"I… no. No one knows where I was born, sir, I'm an orphan."

"You were not born in that village?" Khamul asked, surprised.

Irideth shook her head as Sauron released her chin.

"She is telling the truth," the Dark Lord said after a moment, for the benefit of the wraiths, before returning his focus to Irideth.

"You say no one knows where you were born? You were raised by adoptive parents, then?"

"Y…Yes."

"How did you come to be in their care, then, if not by the will of your birth parents?"

"I was rescued as a baby by a pack of wolves."

"The same pack that sheltered you from my Riders, yes?"

Swallowing thickly, Irideth nodded. Sauron, to everyone's surprise, chuckled.

"What an interesting creature you are, little one. You did well to report her to me, Murazor."

Irideth shuddered while Murazor-the Witch King, as she now knew-nodded. Then Sauron brought his hand up to her forehead, murmuring in a language Irideth did not know, though it sounded vaguely Elvish. He didn't put her completely to sleep, just sedated her enough that she wasn't able to fight back when he made her look in his eyes again.

This time Irideth felt a slight twinge of pain in her head, like something had just landed on the fringes of her brain. She inhaled sharply, closing her eyes and trying to turn her head away.

"Hush, now. It will be more painful the more you resist," Sauron murmured, surprisingly gently. "Just let me in."

With how exhausted his spell had made her, Irideth didn't really have a choice. She bit back small whimpers as the Dark Lord moved through her mind, sifting through it as carefully as a miner would a pan of silt. She quickly realized he was searching through her memories, probably checking to see if there was anything to explain her condition.

In the space of a few minutes, Irideth was forced to relive her entire childhood. Playing with Carantar and the pack, Cevin caring for her injury after one of the village boys had thrown a rock at her (after beating the other boy into the dirt), Master Geirwulf teaching her to ride almost as soon as she could walk. Mother singing lullabies and stroking her hair after a nightmare, Adina's birth, helping care for the new baby, Papa picking Irideth up and swinging her about and laughing.

Irideth didn't realize she was crying until she felt the gentle brush of fingers over her cheeks, wiping away the tears. She flinched slightly and opened her eyes to meet Sauron's; his face was expressionless, but his eyes had softened just the slightest bit.

"Are you in any pain?" he asked her quietly, moving his arm so it supported her back.

Irideth had a bit of a headache, but other than that the pain was all emotional. She shook her head, hastily wiping away the rest of her tears. She more felt than heard Sauron's sigh, stiffening as he shifted his grip on her so she was tucked against his chest, one hand coming up to card through her hair almost absently.

"What is your name, little one?"

"Irideth," Irideth responded quietly.

Sauron gave a low hum, continuing to run his fingers through her hair. "Well, Irideth, what to do with you now, hmm?"

Irideth's throat immediately closed up and she couldn't have answered even if she'd known how.

"My lord, if you intend to keep her, you will have to ensure some means to keep her safe," Khamul said. "Mordor, after all, isn't the safest region for outsiders at present."

"Indeed not," Sauron said, sounding both thoughtful and amused.

The throne room was silent for a few moments. Then Sauron mused, "It has been some time since I have had a personal slave."

Had she not frozen, Irideth's jaw would have hit the floor. Judging by their suddenly slack postures, the wraiths were in a similar position.

"It is the safest position she could have," Sauron went on, apparently amused by the effect he'd had on them. "None in this fortress would dare interfere with what is mine, after all."

"That is true," Murazor mused as Irideth inwardly bristled at being labeled as property. That rage immediately turned to cold fear with the reminder she would become the Dark Lord's property; he could do whatever he liked with her and none would be able to say otherwise. She tensed as Sauron stood, taking her in his arms as he did so.

"Well then, let's go and get you settled, my little one," Sauron said, still sounding slightly amused as he walked down the steps of the throne. "Murazor, Khamul, I expect to see your reports on my desk by this evening," he called over his shoulder as he carried Irideth toward a near-invisible side door.

Murazor responded with a simple, "of course, my Lord."

Irideth swore that she heard Khamul groan before the door shut behind them with a resounding thud.