So, just a reminder, this will be my last chapter for at least two weeks because I am going out of the country and I won't have access to a computer.

Also, another author's note, for you fans of the Lord of the Rings books, I won't be including the rangers. You might have already guessed that, but I thought I would just say it officially. Their arrival wouldn't really make a difference in this story, so for time's sake I'm going to leave them out.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Lord of the Rings.

Chapter 48 Recap:

She screamed in rage, and tried to stab the feet in hopes it would drop her.

But the talons suddenly dug into her sides and she was jerked upwards.

Now she could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness. In the last moments of awareness she could tell they had turned around and were on the path to Mordor.

Chapter 49:

The mood of the current fellowship had turned much more solemn and sad with the 'disappearance' of Abigail and the leaving of Gandalf of and Pippin.

Merry was taking it the worst. Abigail had always had a bit of a hobbit personality, and with both her and Pippin gone he felt really alone.

Aragorn had been acting very broody and quiet since that fateful night, at least more quiet that he usual was. Even Legolas couldn't tell if it was that the ranger had a lot to think about or he was just being stubborn about something.

Everyone still wondered the same thing now and then. For what reason did Abigail truly leave? Was there too much pressure with the release of her secrets? Was she scared or was she angry?

Legolas tried to pry the answer out of Aragorn, for the elf knew he was the last to speak with her. But Aragorn would not give any enlightenment to the subject.

However, unknown to all of them, there was a young servant girl who had been a witness. She had stayed quiet for the past few days, but now guilt was slowly eating her away.

"L-lady Éowyn?" Ryn called out nervously, entering her lady's bedchamber. It was the morning of the 4th day since that night.

Éowyn, already dressed for the day, came out of her washroom.

"Yes, Ryn, what is it?" she asked sweetly.

"Well, my lady…um, you see I…oh bother, I am going to be in so much trouble after this," Ryn rambled.

Éowyn was confused, but she took the young girl by the hands gently. "Whatever it is, Ryn, you can tell me. It will be alright," she said. Éowyn led the young girl to the bed and they both sat down.

"Now, what do you need to say?" Éowyn asked again.

"I helped mistress Abigail leave!" Ryn blurted out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she continued to talk quickly, bowing her head. "She came to my room late at night, and she seemed so upset. At the time I thought I was just helping a friend but now I see it's caused trouble and I am really sorry!" The small girl jumped of the bed and did a deep curtsy of shame.

"Ryn, calm down," Éowyn ordered, shocked. She sighed at her handmaiden's trembling figure. "I am not angry, Ryn, I promise. Now, let us start over from the beginning. Slowly," she emphasized. "You said Abigail came to your room?"

The girl nodded. "Yes, my lady. She was clearly disturbed or upset about something, and asked if I could help her get ready for a journey. At first I assumed she was just going on some sort of mission." Ryn paused for a moment, remembering. "But when I asked for an explanation, all she said was she couldn't stay. That she wasn't welcomed. She said that there had to be something else she could do, another way." Ryn looked up. "Does that make any sense?"

"Maybe," Éowyn replied, brushing her fingers through her hair. "Thank you Ryn. You were thinking justly, in helping Abigail. But it's also good that you told me."

Ryn curtsied again. "You're welcome, and thank you as well for not getting mad. Please let me know if you need anything else."

Now Éowyn was left alone to think.

'Abigail did seem upset after she confessed to us, but not enough to run away. Something else could have happened later. Then again, even earlier that night, something was bothering her.' Éowyn thought back to the first real conversation she had with Abigail, the evening of the victory celebration.

Flashback

"I saw you come out-I wanted to make sure you were alright," Éowyn explained.

"I just needed to get away for a moment," Abigail said. "What King Théoden said…well, it was fitting, but it just brought back some memories."

Éowyn nodded. "I heard about your, um, father. I can understand why this night could be…awkward?" she ended, wondering if that was the right word.

"Yes, awkward works," Abigail agreed. "I heard about your family as well. Perhaps you and I are similar in more than a few ways."

"Except I envy you," she cut in.

"Why is that?" she asked.

"You are able to go out in the world and battle for what's good. I must sit here a be the 'image' of what's good for a lady."

"I won't be the one to prevent you from fighting, if ever it happens," Abigail told her. "But I will say this, not all battles need to be fought with swords. I know you are grateful for what you have, and I do understand why you would want to fight, believe me I do. No one likes a cage."

End Flashback

'Perhaps I should talk council with the King. Or maybe lord Aragorn,' she thought hopefully. Éowyn still wondered if Aragorn had any feelings for her whatsoever. She had her Uncle's blessing to pursue her heart, but maybe it would be wiser to wait a little bit longer.
With that in the back of her mind, Éowyn started to walk to the Golden Hall. Someone might have some insight into what Ryn said.

She walked out of the wooden corridor and into the back of the hall where she saw Éomer and Théoden leaned over a table, studying some maps.

She was about to announce her presence when, suddenly, the massive entrance doors thrown open and Aragorn rushed in.

"The beacons or Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit!" he shouted, a bit winded. "Gondor calls for aid."

Éowyn, abandoning thoughts of Abigail, rushed to her brother's side, and squeezed his hand softly. He looked back and gave her a light smile and a nod of recognition. Then they both looked to their king and uncle expectedly.

Théoden paused, but soon enough his mouth quirked slightly. "And Rohan will answer!" he proclaimed.

Éowyn sighed silently, relieved. Éomer showed the same signs of relief.

"Muster the Rohirrim!" Théoden ordered, rolling up the maps. "Assemble the men and Dunharrow. As many men as can be found," he continued to shout. "You have two days. On the third, we ride for Gondor and war. Gamling!"

"My lord," Gamling replied, instantly at his side.

"Make haste across the Riddermark. Summon every able-bodied man to Dunharrow."

Gamling nodded. "I will."

Théoden was striding out of the room, but he stopped for a moment.

"This time, we will make the move. Rohan will have revenge for its losses. I will not tolerate the ruin of this enemy any longer. With what power we have left, it will end," he finished decidedly. He then continued to leave the room with Hama soon following him out.

Aragorn half smirked and half smiled. He bowed quickly, more out of habit, then left to find Legolas, Gimli and Merry.

Éowyn and Éomer stared at each other for a minute.

"Do not despair, sister," Éomer finally spoke. "While this summons means war, it has also restored the pride and will of Rohan."

"Indeed, my will to fight is as strong as ever, yet none of you will see it," she replied sharply.

"Nay, I see your will, but I cannot allow you to act on it. I have promised to keep you safe. I would never forgive myself if you were injured." He kissed the side of her head tenderly, and then left.

"I know you mean well, brother. But my pride is injured every time you deny my will," Éowyn sighed. "Very well, I shall have to make my own plans."

Éowyn chuckled suddenly. "Abigail was right. She and I are similar, both with our own secrets," she whispered to herself as she walked away. "I remember your advice, Abigail…but I am not going to stop. And neither should you."

(A/N – There's a bit of Éowyn POV for you.)

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Abigail's eyes opened slowly and painfully. She took one breath and instantly felt nauseous. The air smelled like sulfur and death, there was no other way to explain in. She tried to move around, and as if the pain didn't make it hard enough, her hands and legs were also crudely bound.

'Orc knots…they look poor but hold tight,' she mused groggily. All her senses felt dulled, but her mind held a foreboding sense of evil.

There were no windows in her hard, damp and dank cell, but there was no doubt that she was somewhere within Mordor.

"This is really bad," she muttered. "Though that's pretty obvious. What happened to being the calm, sensible one in the group? Am I stubborn? Yes. Am I rash and idiotic? I wasn't until recently," she cursed herself and banged her head against the wall.

"Ow," she chided. "Stupid wraith with his stupid kidnapping dragon. Stupid me for thinking that plan wouldn't get me caught," she sighed, frustrated.

"She's already talkin' to 'erself," a gurgled voice came outside her door. "Usually takes more than a few days until they go mad."

Abigail recognized the aura as an orcs, but he seemed to be alone.

"That's all Sauron sends to guard me? I'm insulted," she smirked.

The door was thick, made out of wood, with a small barred window at the top. Still, the orc and the door were both solid objects, not huge obstacles for her powers.

With her mind she undid the ropes tying her down. She stood up, and felt dizzy for a moment, but it soon passed.

Abigail took a deep breath, and then focused her power on the door. It exploded from the hinges at a great force, knocking down the orc guard in the process.

She cautiously stepped out into the dark hallway, only dimly lit by some torches. She was truly surprised to find it otherwise bare.

'Really, only one guard? And they didn't even try to drug me or anything,' she thought confused. "With this display, I'm surprised they even had the wits to take my daggers. That's two sets of weapons he owes me." Suddenly energized with adrenaline, Abigail was surprised at her own calmness and jubilance.

Rubbing her bracelet for good luck, she slowly edged through the hallway, jumping at every shadow.

She had made it all the way to a set of stairs before she heard someone coming. She was about to hide, when suddenly a shot of pain through her side made her fall to her knees.

'No…the wraith's coming. The one that stabbed me' she thought, gasping. She tried to get up and run, but the pain increased with every step. Her wraith was coming closer.

Then, there was a sound of a metal boot right behind her.

"An escapee? I do not think so," it hissed. "Look at me when I speak to you wench!" It kicked her in the back, causing her to spin around.

"How can I look at a faceless monster like you," she said lowly.

The wraith ignored her. "You are in my territory now and I know how to put you in your place," it snarled. It reached out a gauntlet-covered hand and grabbed the place where her scar was.

She screamed in agony and could feel herself blacking out again.

"I warned you that your choice would be made for you. This is your destiny. Embrace it, or perish," it hissed one last time.

Next, all Abigail saw was darkness.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

She awoke again in the same cell, except this time she was locked in with chains. Also, her side was throbbing constantly in pain.

She looked up and noticed that the Nazgûl was in the cell with her.

"As much as I loathe being near you, it seems I am the one who can keep you at bay," it said with a harsh tone. "And I do relish the fact that I can control you."

"You-do not-control me!" she said, shakily.

Nonetheless, every time she tried to use her power or even move it would move closer to her and she would lose focus due to the pain.

"I do not know why you fight it. With that awesome display of power one would think you were trying to be found," it said.

Abigail blinked at its words. "So…so you really didn't know where I was before that?"

'I have been the queen of bad judgment lately,' she cursed herself.

"You would have the free will to use your gifts all the time if only you would join us and the dark lord. You would be free from the pain as well. Embrace the darkness and act as you were intended to act."

"As enticing as that sounds, I am afraid I must decline," she replied.

The wraith moved towards her and grabbed her arm. She only winced in pain, almost getting use to the feeling now.

"Sarcasm will get you nowhere, mortal. You know your purpose, and you cannot escape from this prison. You will benefit yourself if you succumb to the dark lord's will. Which should be your will too," it snarled.

"How many time's must I tell you? I make my own choices, and I have decided to fight against Sauron until I die," she shouted back.

It drew its sword and pointed it at her neck. "I could kill you right now, if you so desire it," the wraith threatened.

She smirked. "You could…but you won't."

Suddenly, the door opened and the wraith sheathed its sword.

The grotesque figure looked similar to a Nazgûl, with loose black robes and a partial hood. But this…thing, unlike the Nazgûl, did have a face, of sorts. All it really had was a mutated looking, large mouth with razor sharp and gangly teeth. The surrounding skin was gray and saggy.

She had enough memory to know this creature was named the Mouth of Sauron.

"How is our prisoner?" he asked, not truly caring. His voice was dark and tremulous, much like Sauron's should be.

"For her own sake, she better be in a talkative mood," the wraith replied.

'A talkative mood?' Abigail wondered nervously.

"You have been granted permission to stay, just in case she tries to pull anything clever," the 'Mouth' instructed.

"Yes, my lord," the wraith bowed.

'They work for that thing?' Abigail thought, amazed. 'Well, I suppose it is the closest thing they have to a real Sauron.'

The Mouth turned to her. "I do not have much patience for mortal scum like you," he growled. "Speak quickly and this can be painless. Where is the heir of Elendil?"

'Oh, this is interrogation time. That's what they meant by 'talkative,' she thought.

With what defiance she had left, Abigail put on a blank face and responded with, "Whom?"

"The heir of Elendil. Who is he and where can we locate him?" he repeated, angrily.

"Whom are you talking about? What's the heir of Elendil?" she feigned innocence.

"Do not play dumb!" the wraith commanded and drew its sword again.

"Do not cut her! You cannot risk her turning into a Nazgûl," the Mouth blocked the wraith off. "We do not know the consequences."

"I will not cut her," the wraith explained.

It came over to her and merely touched the sword to her scar, which caused more suffering than its hand ever did.

She writhed against the wall in pain. She was hoping she would lose consciousness again, but it pulled away before that moment came.

"I will ask another question," he continued. "Where is the Ring?"

"There are many rings, Sauron, you will have to narrow it down," she answered, bitter and sarcastic, her favorite combination.

The Mouth took his turn, and with a normal knife he cut her down the thigh.

She bit her tongue and closed her eyes, doing her best not to give them the satisfaction of another scream.

"Where is the One Ring?"

She looked up at him, her hair matted to half her face with sweat.

"I…don't…know," she replied slowly, breathing heavily.

'I may have abandoned the fellowship, but I'll be damned if I betray them,' she thought determinedly.

"Perhaps the answers lie within," the Mouth grinned creepily, showing off all of his awful teeth.

He reached out a sharp and rotten nail and touched it to her forward.

Immediately she felt him try to probe into her mind. At first it felt like only a scratch, but with each second it dove deeper and deeper driving her insane.

"Get out of my head!" she screamed and thrashed about.

The Mouth was not distracted, though, and he was getting closer to actually reaching her thoughts and information. Up until then he had only been digging through her mental barrier.

'One thing that I know will repel darkness is light,' she thought, gritting her teeth.

Summoning all her heart and will, she managed to say,

"Pool of Earendil, shine for me bright. Give hope in darkness, give shadow a light!"

Her bracelet cast a blinding light throughout the cell. Both the wraith and Mouth cried out with pain and the Mouth backed away from her quickly.

Abigail felt quite weak, but she managed to rebuild the barriers in her mind and, as always, the Pool of Earendil let her feel a brief moment of peace.

She leaned heavily against the jagged wall and closed her eyes. For the first time she wondered how long she had been here, and how long she could keep up the strength to defend her mind and body.

The Nazgûl and the Mouth of Sauron were speaking in dark, hushed tones.

"She is more powerful that we imagined, which would be good news if she wasn't using it against us," the Mouth concluded.

"I believe I can turn her. But to make a mind as strong as that evil I will need the power of the Nine," the wraith explained.

"The Witch King is still at Osgiliath. But if we act quickly it is possible to summon all of the Nazgûl," he agreed.

"With our combined efforts, I swear she will become whatever the dark lord requires," the wraith bowed.

"See that it happens, at this point we cannot let her be our enemy. She could be our greatest weapon next to the Ring." The Mouth turned back to Abigail. "Until then, we will repeat this little session later." Then he walked out.

The wraith left the room, but still stood guard outside her door, ready to administer pain at any given moment.

"Someone…help me," Abigail whispered in despair, a single, warm tear falling down her cheek.

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I cut this off a bit short, but I don't have any more time left, so I will leave you here for now (at least it's something, right?)

Also, with that said, I really just was to get the chapter content posted, so I will not be doing individual thank you's. But, I thank all reviewers and readers a hundred times over, and I will do personal thank you's once I return.

My flight leaves in 10 hours, so I really need to get some sleep.

See you in two weeks!

-MysticNight9