Chapter 22:
Sauron walked through the halls of Barad-dûr, having only a vague idea of his destination; his mind was elsewhere. He had made a mistake with Irideth, aggravating as that was to think about. Judging by what Murazor had told him, Sauron had done exactly what he'd wished to avoid by attempting to alter the child's memory. Irideth was going to be at best extremely nervous around him now which, if his hunch about emotion being a component in blocking the bond was correct, would make things more difficult moving forward.
He had to get the girl to trust him again. The question was how he was going to accomplish that; further attempts at manipulation via Song or the link, even to soften her resistance, would only fan the flames.
Perhaps…
Sauron turned his attention to the Ring bond with Khamul, casting his mind along it until he found Murazor's faithful second. Opening the bond, Sauron brushed his awareness over Khamul's mind to alert the wraith to his presence before completing the connection. Khamul, though initially startled, didn't fight him at all.
Sauron found that Murazor's guess had been correct; the rest of the Nine had gone with Sabir to the southern pastures. They had just reached their destination this evening, and Sabir was preparing some evening tea while Irideth had fallen asleep in Indur's lap. They were all gathered in the small hut at the western edge of the pastures; a few memories Khamul brought forth showed Irideth and Sabir had already unpacked, and that Sabir was only planning on a four or five day stay.
While still immersed in Khamul's mind, Sauron became aware of a nagging thought, a question that was bothering the Black Easterling. A moment's attention was all it took to reveal it, and Sauron had to fight a smile.
'He is resting,' Sauron said, startling Khamul. 'I left him in his chamber. He will be hale and whole in another day or so.'
Sauron felt Khamul's relief before the wraith could stifle it, mingled briefly with embarrassment that his Master had even noticed his concern.
'You're still terrible at shielding when you're wrung out,' Sauron said, allowing his amusement to creep along the bond.
'I know,' Khamul responded glumly.
'Were the others that difficult to wrangle?'
'There were a few… spats, nothing really serious. We just made sure we were well away from Irideth and Sabir,' Khamul said.
'And how has Irideth been?' Sauron asked.
There was a lengthy pause. 'She seems to be doing well,' Khamul said after nearly a minute. 'She enjoys being out in the sun. And riding, of course.'
'No nightmares or spells of panic?' Sauron asked.
'Not that I'm aware of.' Khamul returned his attention to Irideth and Indur for Sauron's benefit. The girl was still soundly asleep; Indur for his part seemed perfectly content to keep still and leave her be.
'It was a long trip,' Khamul said. 'I don't think she's ever ridden so far, though she certainly enjoyed being in the saddle.'
'She is from Rohan,' Sauron mused. 'I would be concerned if it were otherwise.'
'Do you… want us to return her to you, my lord?'
Khamul's question made Sauron pause. He would prefer it if Irideth returned to Barad-dûr, he wouldn't deny that, but some time away from the Tower, from him, might make her a bit more… receptive the next time he wanted to attempt an experiment with her. And it would give him time to figure out how to proceed to get her to trust him again.
'No,' Sauron answered. 'Stay with Sabir. Just bring her to me when you return.'
Irideth ignored the numbness in her legs as the little bay colt took a step closer, stretching out his neck to sniff at the slice of apple in her hand. He was easily the shyest foal she'd ever seen; she'd been sitting like this for nearly ten minutes, and the colt was still hesitant to approach her despite the treat she was offering.
Finally, the colt stretched his neck far enough to snatch the apple from her hand, then immediately leaped away and ran back toward his mother. He only went half-way, though, stopping and looking back at the strange two-legged creature curiously when he realized she wasn't following him.
Next to Irideth, Sabir chuckled. "Well done. You got him to come to you far more quickly than I did."
Irideth just smiled, continuing to hold her hand out in front of her; it had taken her all of yesterday to get him comfortable enough to approach her. The foals in this herd had yet to be in regular contact with humans and thus behaved much like foals would in a wild herd. The colt lowered his head, trotting forward a couple steps before thinking better of it and leaping back again.
After he did this a few more times, Irideth shared a look with Sabir. The two of them turned toward each other, slowly enough not to startle the colt, and began plucking strands of grass to weave crowns. Once they'd started they began speaking animatedly.
"What on earth are you doing?" Sabir asked when he beheld Irideth's base.
"I told you I'm no good at weaving!"
"Weaving? I'm not even certain what you're doing there!" Sabir said.
"…Braiding?" Irideth said.
The girl felt the brush of what seemed to be a nose at her hair. She smiled, but kept her attention on the mess of grass in her lap.
Eventually Sabir so despaired at Irideth's weaving skill that he took her bunch into his lap and began giving a step-by-step demonstration of proper grass/flower crown weaving technique.
When Irideth eventually took her crown back, it was almost immediately snatched at one end by the colt, who began dedicatedly munching. Irideth laughed, continuing to weave at her end while the foal ate. When he had about caught up, she stopped weaving and kept still. The colt froze when his nose brushed against her hand, but when she didn't move he continued eating right out of her palm.
Irideth was smiling so broadly her cheeks hurt when the foal began sniffing over her once he'd finished the grass, nudging at her hands, her lap, her chest as he searched for more food. A whicker from his mother had the colt raising his head, ears pricked curiously forward. Another whicker and he ran to her, whinnying excitedly.
Irideth pushed herself to her feet, wincing at the stiffness in her legs. She brushed dirt and grass from her pants as Sabir stood too.
"Well done, Irideth; with luck he will be more amenable to our presence tomorrow," the man said, watching as mother and foal trotted toward the rest of the herd grazing at the base of the hill.
"It's good the mares all like you. I don't think I'd have been able to get anywhere near him if they didn't," Irideth said as they turned toward the tree where Nasra and Sable were tethered.
"Have you decided which horses you're going to be taking back?" Irideth asked. "Oh, no you don't." This last part was directed at Nasra who, upon being loosed, had immediately gone for a large tussock of young thistles.
"I am looking primarily for working horses, not riding horses," Sabir said as he slid Sable's bit into her mouth. "Though I may take a few from the wraiths' herd for breeding purposes; they will need new horses before too long."
Irideth looked to him curiously as she slid Nasra's ears under the headpiece of her bridle. "How does that work? I know the wraiths have to spend a lot of time with their horses when they're young, but other than that I'm not sure what they do."
Sabir chuckled as he mounted, Irideth swinging into her saddle a moment later. "We raise a herd entirely separately for the Nine's use. All of them spent the first two or three years of their lives at the stable at Barad-dûr, to allow them to become used to the wraiths' presence," Sabir said as he nudged Sable into an easy trot.
Irideth had to nudge Nasra hard to get the pony to keep pace; she was never in an amiable mood after being pulled away from a snack and was currently determined to be as lazy as she could get away with.
"Most of them come to these pastures at some point; there simply isn't space in Barad-dûr to house them all. The wraiths keep their horses in the tower stable, of course, but once they get old or if they're injured, the wraiths of course need new horses. When the time comes, I come here and pick new mounts for them."
"How do you pick?" Irideth asked.
"It depends partially on the situation. Whether I have time to train a young horse or if I need a more experienced one is a primary factor, though. When their horses are simply getting old, it's a bit easier," Sabir answered, ducking to avoid a low-hanging branch before guiding Sable out into an open field.
"The perfect situation, in my mind, is when the wraiths are able to take charge of a horse immediately after it's born. The mother is already used to them and their aura; we only ever breed mares from this specific herd in large part because of that. The foals are always frightened around them at first, that is unavoidable. The wraiths will spend several hours every day in the stall with mother and baby; they often pay some attention to the mother, feeding her, grooming her, that sort of thing."
"With the foal right there?" Irideth asked, incredulous. "Most of the mares in our herd were absolutely vicious right after giving birth."
Sabir laughed loudly enough that Sable flicked an ear back in surprise. "The wraiths are smart enough not to get too close too soon after the birth. They'll be in the vicinity, but won't approach until the mare and foal have had a chance to bond and the mare has calmed down. With first-time mothers that tends to be a bit longer."
Unbidden, an image arose in Irideth's mind of the Ringwraiths running from an angry, overprotective mare and she couldn't stifle a snort of laughter.
"Is it any easier with mares who know them well?" she asked once she'd recovered herself.
"Very much so. I remember one instance where a mare Morgomir had ridden for a time left her foal with him when she needed a break," Sabir said, laughing. "Of course that was one of the days Lord Sauron decided to pay a visit. He and Murazor found Morgomir sitting on the floor of the stall with the foal asleep on his lap."
Irideth was at this point laughing so hard she had tears rolling down her face. Nasra, who was not pleased with the imbalance this caused, tossed her head and snorted in annoyance.
Sabir was faring little better. "And when Morgomir looked up and saw them staring at him, he said, 'I didn't want to wake him up.'"
Irideth had to slow Nasra to a walk so she wouldn't fall out of the saddle, she was laughing so hard. Sabir, chuckling himself, waited a few seconds for her to recover herself before cueing Sable into a canter. Irideth kicked Nasra to the same pace, laughing as the pony sprang forward to keep up with the horse.
"Do you mind if we stop and see the herd at the eastern edge of the fields?" Sabir said. "You did marvelous work with that pair of foals yesterday, I want to see if they'll allow us to handle them today. It will be time to start their lead training soon…"
To say Murazor was surprised when he rode up to the horsemasters' hut and saw his subordinates all wearing flower crowns would be an unfair understatement.
"Irideth and Sabir were starting to socialize some of the foals to humans," Morgomir said by way of explanation.
"I… see," Murazor said as he dismounted, drawing the reins over his horse's head as he began to lead him around to the paddock in the back. "And what does that have to do with an abundance of flower crowns?"
"Food bribes," Adunaphel said.
"Ah," Murazor said, leading his horse into the paddock. Khamul removed the saddle while Murazor took off the bridle and rubbed the animal down with a handful of straw. Giving his horse a pat on the neck before he trotted off, Murazor turned to follow the rest of the Nine into the hut.
The second he walked in the door he was accosted by Ren and Hoarmurath, who jammed another crown onto his head before he'd even realized they were there; their cohorts cheered at the success of the ambush. Irideth and Sabir, who'd been sitting at the table and chatting over their evening meal, laughed at the sight the exuberant Nazgûl presented. Then Sabir started waxing lyrical about the improvement the crowns made to their 'dull uniforms', Irideth laughing so hard her sides must have hurt.
"Beautiful as your work is, Sabir," Murazor said as he walked further into the room, "I very much doubt Lord Sauron would approve the change."
"Ah, pity," Sabir said, with more than a little dramatic flair. Irideth giggled into her water cup.
As Irideth and Sabir headed up to the loft to prepare for bed, Murazor found himself standing in a circle with his subordinates, all of them looking at him expectantly.
'Are you alright?' Khamul asked, voicing what Murazor expected the rest of them were thinking.
'I'm fine,' Murazor said, allowing his feelings to bleed through their bond so they could sense his honesty. He smiled when he felt their relief, relaxing when he felt them opening the bond further, minds and feelings mingling. News passed between them as easily as air moved between trees, insights, concerns and general thoughts taken up by their comrades to be pondered; any pertinent issues would be discussed at more length at a later date. Murazor was unsurprised that most of the focus was on him, and that after his subordinates were certain of his overall welfare they were curious about their Master and any orders he may have relayed. The Witch King shared his knowledge of all that was going on in Barad-dûr gladly, laying out a few tentative details of what things would look like once they returned.
He wasn't certain how long it had been before everyone was satisfied. Almost as quickly as they had come together the Nine dispersed, some going to stand watch while the others went to find other ways to pass the time (nondestructive ways, Murazor hoped). In short order the Witch King found himself standing alone in the main room of the hut. He glanced up toward the loft; Irideth and Sabir were having a whispered conversation amongst themselves.
Deciding not to pry, Murazor followed his subordinates outside. He found Khamul, Morgomir, Indur, Adunaphel and Ren were leading their horses to a few of the smaller pens surrounding the paddock for, judging by the lack of tack, some groundwork exercises.
If he'd had a face, Murazor would have grinned.
"How do you all feel about running a few drills?" he called, amiable as you please as he walked toward them.
A collective groan was the only response he got.
Irideth could not sleep. Her mind was absolutely refusing to shut down.
Murazor looked okay. But he was a wraith. It wasn't like she could actually see if he was hurt. He hadn't sounded like he was in pain earlier, though, but he could have just been putting up a front for the others. No, no, the wraiths were psychically linked, something like she and Sauron were, would he even be able to…
Irideth pressed a hand over her eyes. That was the crux of the issue, wasn't it? Valar, she hadn't been this afraid of the Dark Lord in months; just the thought of him was enough to send her thoughts spinning, and it took every bit of self-control she possessed not to turn into a shaking, sweating wreck when she remembered she had no choice but to return to him. In three days.
You could escape.
No, she couldn't, not yet. Her and Irianna's plan was only half-baked, and her grasp of the Conjure Familiar spell Irianna had taught her was shaky at best. And even if she did manage to avoid being recaptured, she still didn't know how she was going to get over the mountains. The only ways she could think of were the Black Gate and Cirith Ungol, both of which were under constant surveillance by Sauron's forces. How the hell was she supposed to…
No, no, no. Irideth sat up, her blankets falling down to her waist as she drew both hands through her hair in agitation. You'll drive yourself to madness with this… this circling.
When a few deep breaths wasn't enough to slow her racing thoughts, Irideth pushed the blankets off. Careful not to wake Sabir, who was lying only four or five feet away, she made her way to the stairs that led down from the loft where they slept.
A lantern burning on the table was the only source of light on the main floor. Irideth could see nor hear anyone else, but she knew the Nazgûl were hanging around somewhere.
She found out exactly where one of them was when she walked out the back door, holding a small flame lit in her right hand to provide light.
"It's a bit late for you to be up and about, isn't it?"
Even though she'd been half expecting one of the Nine to be standing guard outside, Irideth still whipped around at the sound of Murazor's voice. He'd been standing to the door's left, just out of sight. Of course, even with the light provided by Irideth's flame, his black cloak made him nearly invisible with the moon and stars obscured by clouds.
When Irideth remained silent for several moments, Murazor gestured to the flame she had cupped in her palms. "Your control has improved considerably."
Irideth swallowed. "S… Lord Sauron wants me to practice. My… my magic is dif… different from any he's seen, and I… think he wants to study mine to see why, but since I only know one spell…"
"And did you come out here to practice?" Murazor asked, undertone indicating how much stock he put into that theory.
Irideth stared at the dirt on the path to the paddock. "No," she said softly. "I… I couldn't sleep."
"And you intended to, perhaps, go for a walk? In the middle of the night, alone?" Murazor asked.
Irideth shrugged, still not looking up at him. She jumped, flame almost going out when she felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder, gently turning her around.
"I know Sabir has a stock of valerian and chamomile tea in the cupboards; why don't you go heat up some water, and I'll see if I can find it?" Murazor said, herding her back inside. Irideth, deciding it was pointless to argue, kept the flame burning in one palm as she went to go find the kettle. It would have been much easier if she could've cast Magelight, but she didn't want Murazor learning that she did, in fact, know other spells besides Flames.
She did find the kettle fairly quickly; it was still out on the counter. She got some water from one of the buckets Sabir had pulled from the well earlier that afternoon and held it over the flame in her palm, intensifying it to get the water to heat faster. Glancing in Murazor's direction, Irideth saw that he'd found the tea he'd been looking for and was in the process of measuring some out into a strainer.
I'm making tea with the Witch King. The thought had a laugh bubbling up in her throat. She swallowed it, barely.
By the time Irideth had gotten the water to a boil, Murazor had placed the tea and the strainer into a teapot and placed it on the table. Irideth then poured the water into the pot and placed the lid on. Leaving it to steep, the girl then went in search of a cup.
Once she'd found one, she found the jar of honey Sabir had used for his toast this morning and put a small spoonful in the base of the cup. Irideth had found over the course of her time in Mordor that she didn't much like herbal teas without milk or honey in them, and she doubted this one would be any different. Valerian smelled bad enough on its own, and she wasn't too fond of chamomile either.
When Irideth turned around, she saw Murazor sitting at the table watching her. Without meeting his gaze, she walked over and sat in the chair opposite him, pouring herself some tea and stirring in the honey. Once it was mixed to her satisfaction she blew on it, then took a hesitant sip.
She barely kept from grimacing. Should've put in more honey. There was quite the earthy aftertaste, but it was manageable.
The silence, however, was getting a bit awkward.
"Where are the others?" Irideth asked quietly as she set the mug down, finally daring a glance at the Witch King.
"Ren, Hoarmurath and Akorahil are currently on watch. The rest are wandering about, amusing themselves. Knowing them that likely involves terrorizing the local patrols," Murazor said. Irideth got the impression that, if he had eyes, he was rolling them. She smiled, taking another sip of tea.
When she set the mug down again, her face was flat. "Are… are you alright?" she asked quietly, eyes falling to stare at her hands wrapped around the mug.
"I'm fine, child," Murazor said softly. "I will not say that Lord Sauron's examination of my memories was pleasant or painless, but I am fine now. You, however, do not appear to be."
Irideth pursed her lips, saying nothing.
"You're frightened of going back to him, aren't you?" Murazor questioned, voice softening.
Irideth had to swallow before answering. "Yes," she said, voice tight. "I… I sensed how frustrated, how angry he was before, and…"
Irideth couldn't finish. In part that was because she wasn't certain how to articulate her feelings on the matter. The larger part was she didn't particularly want to say any of what she'd been thinking about it out loud.
"Irideth, Lord Sauron will not hurt you when we return," Murazor said. Irideth tensed in surprise when, when she didn't look at him, the wraith placed a hand under her chin and gently tilted her head up so she met his hooded gaze. His fingers held none of the warmth a human hand would have, but the gloves he wore, part of her mind noted, were smooth and pleasantly cool. "He has no cause to punish you for anything. You have done nothing wrong. You are not at fault for anything that has upset him, and he knows it well."
"I went on this trip without his permission," Irideth said tremulously. "He's been so… unpredictable lately, he gets frustrated or upset so easily, I don't think…"
"The trip wasn't your idea; you were not truly given a choice in the matter. The others and I made sure Lord Sauron was aware of this," Murazor said firmly. "If he was truly set against it, he would have had the others return you immediately upon becoming aware of your departure. But that is not truly your biggest concern, is it?"
Irideth looked down at the table. "I… I don't really want to talk about it."
Murazor gently nudged her chin upward again. "Child, what good is keeping it to yourself doing you? You are clearly very distressed by it, you likely have been for the past week."
Irideth blinked. "Did…?"
"Yes. Lord Sauron told me what happened the day before you left."
Irideth looked down at the table again; Murazor allowed it this time. "I know that he tried to erase my memory. I don't understand what exactly he was trying to do before that, but… it scared me, really badly. I felt so out of control, like I was watching someone or something else in my own mind, and it hurt. I didn't know what to do, it felt like I couldn't even think, I just wanted it to stop."
Oh, great, she was crying again. "He did something like it in the healing wing, too. I wasn't in control of my body or my mind, not completely. What he did that night was stronger, though; it took me longer to realize what was going on."
Irideth wiped her eyes hastily, pretending she was just brushing some hair out of her face. She took another sip of tea; it wasn't happing quite the calming effect she would have hoped.
"Was he singing when this was happening?" Murazor asked, sounding genuinely curious.
Irideth swallowed. "Not singing exactly, more like… humming. He did start singing when I started fighting him, though."
When Murazor remained silent for nearly a minute, Irideth dared a glance up at him. If she wasn't mistaken, the Witch King was staring at her.
"Wh… what?" she asked, feeling her grip around the cup tighten.
"Child, you managed to resist a Maia attempting to hypnotize you," Murazor said softly, but his voice was incredulous.
Uh, oh.
"I don't know… he… I wasn't able to do it for long," Irideth stammered. "I don't even know how I… I didn't even know what was going on."
"Of course you weren't able to withstand him for long, child, but the fact you were able to do it at all is what is astonishing," Murazor said. "You are human, with very little experience with magic, and completely without any formal training in mind magics. Yet you managed to withstand the Dark Lord himself, even push him out of your mind."
"I don't think he was trying all that hard," Irideth muttered into the cup, taking another sip in an effort to get her hands to quit shaking. She blinked in surprise when she heard Murazor chuckle.
She must have made a face of some sort, because Murazor said, "you underestimate yourself, Irideth. Lord Sauron told me you have proven quite the stubborn puzzle to him."
"Oh, is that a good thing?" Irideth snapped. She deflated when Murazor, somehow, managed to give her a Look.
"Sorry," she whispered, feeling tears threaten again.
"Your distress is understandable," Murazor said. "But I would advise getting a tighter rein on your temper; Lord Sauron may not be so forgiving of such lapses."
Irideth said nothing, staring at the way the lantern light reflected off the ripples caused by the tea hitting the edge of the cup. The smell of it still wasn't all that appealing to her. It had helped calm her mind to an extent, though, because now when she drew in a deep breath, she was able to focus on other things as she absently sipped at her drink.
The hut smelled of dust, hay, sweat and horses. There was a slight breeze blowing outside, rustling the leaves of the trees. Outside in the paddock, horses shuffled and snorted as they slept. Occasionally there was the switch of a tail or the stomp of a hoof. Thankfully the breeze seemed to be keeping the insects at bay, though Irideth had noticed over the course of the trip even the most persistent horseflies and mosquitoes would not get anywhere near the Nazgûl.
A light filtering through the window to her left drew Irideth's attention. The clouds that had obscured the sky were gone, revealing a half moon and several stars.
Irideth didn't notice herself nodding off until her head almost hit the table. Murazor, who had stood up at some point, caught her, pulling the mug out of her hands and setting it aside. Then he lifted her into his arms, holding her against his chest as he began carrying her back up to the loft.
The girl didn't even have the energy to be surprised when the Witch King set her gently down on top of her bedroll, pulling her blankets back over her. Her eyes were just beginning to close when she felt a hand running through her hair.
"Do not trouble yourself, Irideth," Murazor said softly, hand moving from her hair to cup her cheek. "You have nothing to fear when we return to Barad-dûr."
Irideth most certainly did not agree, but she turned her head into Murazor's hand nonetheless, smiling tiredly up at him.
"Thank you, Murazor," she whispered as her eyes finally slid shut.
Sauron removed his hand from the Palantír, though he continued to stare at the polished black stone thoughtfully.
The scene he had just witnessed had confirmed his suspicions of Irideth's current feelings toward him, though things appeared to be a bit worse than he had initially surmised.
She is clever. Very clever, very insightful. Irideth had been suspicious of his manipulations even in the healing wing, and then, before he had used his Song to force her to sleep…
Had she been resisting him in the healing wing as well? He hadn't sensed that she was, but then again he hadn't been searching for any sign of deception, either.
Regardless, attempting to erase her memory had been a grave error. If Sauron wanted to progress in his experiments, he needed to do two things. Most immediately he needed to show Irideth she had nothing to fear from him, as long as she obeyed him. Second, and this would be far more difficult, he needed to rebuild the… he didn't think he would call it a rapport, but he and the girl had come to a sort of understanding of each other over the past year. Irideth knew how to read Sauron's moods most of the time. She could anticipate many of his needs at this point; he often didn't have to order her to do anything unless his request was an unusual one, given his daily routine.
But Sauron recognized most of that was rooted in a survival-based mindset. He wanted the girl to trust him with things, to want to share her thoughts and feelings with him, not simply yield to a mind probe.
Sauron turned away from the Palantír, walking over to his desk and sitting down, staring at the opposite wall with his fingers steepled in front of his face.
He wanted to see Irideth acting out a little bit, pushing the boundaries of the limits he set on her to see what she could get away with. That would be a definite sign she was becoming not just used to him, but comfortable with him and confident that he wouldn't slam her down every time she stuck up just the slightest bit.
Not too much, though. He didn't want her getting any ideas.
How to go about this…
The conclusion Sauron came to didn't exactly please him, but he believed it would eventually garner the results he wanted. Denying any of what he had done or attempted to do would be beyond counterproductive; Irideth would, if not see right through him, be able to tell he was lying.
So it was time for The Deceiver to resort to good old-fashioned honesty. While perhaps omitting a few of the more pertinent details, but honesty nonetheless.
And Sauron had to admit, part of him was curious as to what Irideth's reaction would be. It might be amusing to catch her off guard.
An even smaller part of him was, perhaps, not opposed to the idea of some quiet time in the girl's company. Why should he let Murazor and the wraiths have all the fun?
"All right, what is it, my Blood Flower?"
"Why should it be anything, Lord Sithis?"
"You only ever smile like that when something has come to fruition, my dear. What has happened?"
"It does appear that the fire Maia has become attached."
"Oh?"
"He's denying it."
"Of course he is. But that is what makes it so interesting, no?"
"Of course, my lord! Who do you take me for, Lady Mara?"
