The reason why this chapter took so long is because it is long! Fighting Against Temptations rivals Unwilling Repentance in terms of difficulties, not to mention that I am going into uncharted waters right now. From now on this story is a AU, written and planned out completely by yours truly. As school starts, I would be busy again. (Sigh...)
Honestly, this part is an early idea of mine. So I am unwilling to give it up even though I had other ideas. Yeah...this chapter may seem strange to some...But I am satisfied with it.
Anyway, I made major changes to the previous chapters. Dialogue revisions, new events and stuff are all added! You may go back and read them all if you want. But here's a short list of the changes:
1. An account concerning the Witch King's collection of books.
2. A brief crossing of swords between the Witch King and Khamûl.
3. An account of Sauron's management of diplomatic affairs and his displeasure in desk work.
4. The Nazgûl's encounter with Wormtongue during the Hunt for the Ring.
5. Sauron's defeat at the hands of the Witch King in his mind in a painful way.
6. A brief exchanging of words (I mean really really brief) between the Witch King and Éowyn before his death.
7. Sauron's attempt to save the Witch King from death and his refusal.
8. Eldánon the Maia's display of Valarin.
9. Ilúvatar's production of a certain document that makes the Witch King less than pleased.
10. ...and loads of other changes I can't remember right now. Why don't you find them out?
I drew a piece of art relating to this story! Visit my profile and click on my deviantart link to check it out! I also wrote a new tie-in story to this called The Price of a Free Mind. It concerns the how Witch King reacted to the drowning of Númenor and how he started his rebellion against Sauron.
Loads of thanks to SJD042342, Lord Siravant, L. Byron, Jason9000 and Juu50x for reviewing! Also thanks to those who had favorited and subscribed to this story!
Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing but the plot belongs to me. The great J.R.R. Tolkien owns all!
"Show yourself, stranger!" The Witch King shouted at the approaching shadow.
Since he was captured, he was on alert at all times. The loss of his powers of sorcery did not help at all. For the first time in his long life, the Witch King felt truly helpless and defenseless as he found himself unable to fight back or control his situation. All his previous misgivings about the possibility that Sauron was still alive vanished as he faced the unknown figure. Finally, the figure drew close enough for the Witch King to see his face. It was Gandalf, looking rather worried and furious at the same time.
"Are you responsible for this?" He asked harshly, brandishing his staff.
The Witch King did a double take. Didn't Gandalf help him earlier by suggesting to Aragorn that he shouldn't be disposed of immediately? Wasn't he the one who released him from the spell of binding when he mentioned the name Ilúvatar? Then he was suddenly hostile to him?
"Pardon me?" The Witch King asked, confused.
"It is futile to hide your secrets," Gandalf insisted, "I do not know what you did, but Sauron's presence is back. Are you responsible for it somehow?"
He could feel it too? That would not be surprising, for he is a Maia also. Of course he would blame it on me. I was a servant of Sauron after all.
"I would appreciate it if you understood the situation more before accusing me," The Witch King was irritated as he faced another difficult situation, "I forced myself to stay alive to see Sauron defeated. Why would I help him to return to Middle-earth when after thousands of years, it was finally done?"
Gandalf was silent for awhile as he processed this information.
"I cannot completely trust your words," He said finally, "But if you are not responsible, then where did the presence of Sauron come from? Or more importantly, how?"
At least he reacted better than most of the others. I should be grateful that he believed me.
"It is coming from the ruins of the Black Gate." The Witch King replied.
"Then I will go there to investigate, and you are coming with me." Gandalf said shortly.
Here was another great surprise the Witch King faced since he returned. In fact, he was now receiving more surprises than he liked.
He is asking me to come? Why? But wouldn't that...
"The leaders will not be pleased if I am released by you. They might brand you as a traitor." He pointed out.
Gandalf sighed, "I do not like this as much as you do, but I am willing to take the risk. This fight is no longer of Aragorn's and his companions' to take part in. They had done enough already and deserve a rest now that enemy is seemly defeated. It would be most cruel for them to be informed that the enemy they fought so hard against survived. If Sauron is still lurking out there somewhere, it is our best interest to investigate and dispose of him immediately. It would be easier for us to do so now that he has lost most of his power."
"I will require aid, and you are the only one here I know of who can confront Sauron directly. I wouldn't have chosen you if I had an alternative." The Wizard added as the Witch King was about to protest again.
Hmm...should I accept his request? I better do so, since I am also curious about that presence. Besides, I refuse to stay tied up like this.
"Very well then, I will accompany you. I expect you to have a plan when the others discover that we are gone." The Witch King decided.
"I will tell them the truth," Gandalf promised as he unlocked the chains and dropped them, "All of us wish to see Sauron completely defeated and gone from Middle-earth. If you would help us in that, I am sure that they would make an exception. By the way, here is your sword. It was made with skilled hands, one of the finest I had ever seen."
The Witch King accepted it and studied it closely now that Gandalf mentioned it. He had never named it since he received it. The sword was rather plain, with a black double-edged blade, a simple straight cross guard and a hand-and-a-half hilt wrapped in black leather. Come to think of it, the Witch King had never honed his sword, for it always stayed sharp and whole.
"Sauron forged the sword." He suddenly remembered, "He gave them to us when the Nazgûl first came under his service."
The Witch King now looked at his sword with distaste, longing to fling it away. But he wisely decided against it when he saw that he had no other weapon.
"Did he?" Gandalf asked thoughtfully, "I thought..."
The Wizard was silent for awhile as he mused.
Now what is so significant about that?
"The presence is getting stronger." The Witch King reminded.
"Oh, yes. We must hurry." Gandalf agreed.
With that, the unlikely pair set off hurriedly towards the direction of the Black Gate.
Sauron opened his eyes, only to see a stormy gray sky tinted with red. It seemed to be getting late, for the only source of light came from a strange reddish glow that bathed everything in a shade of crimson.
He groaned and sat upright on the stony ground. How long had he been lying there? His back hurt and his body was stiff.
Eru did fulfill his promise then. I have my body back...along with the same bothersome physical needs and pains mortals have. Ugghh...where exactly am I?
He smelled the familiar odor of burning sulfur.
Close to Mordor, no doubt.
Sauron stood up slowly, leaning on a conveniently placed rock as he did so. He studied his thin hands, which were now black streaked with soot. He was still wearing the grey cloak and tunic he had on back at the pasture.
Heh...now I have to get used to having a physical form that can be actually harmed, along with being almost completely powerless. Eru would never restore to me the powers I desire most.
He saw the ruins of the Black Gate in a distance.
What in the world?
He managed to make his way over to the twisted metal ruin and looked inside.
My realm! What happened to my realm?
True enough, Mordor was in complete ruin with no soul in sight. There was no building or structure left intact.
Barad-dûr...I spent six centuries building that fortress with the power of my Ring! All gone...
Sauron allowed himself to collapse sitting on the ground again he looked at the ruins. He picked a stray piece of metal that had once been part of the Black Gates and studied it forlornly.
At least two Ages of work...all reduced to ruins within a day. I suppose Eru was right again, that all my efforts were in vain. Curse him...why is he always right? What did he mean by saying that I have a choice? I had none back then at the pasture. Either I submit to his suggestions, or I get sent back to the Void. Did I truly have a choice in all things I had done?
Unknowingly, Sauron began to think of the past deeds he had done.
Turning to my master in the first place, leading his battles, that incident in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, going to the Eregion Elves as Annatar, forging the Rings of Power, corrupting nine mortal men to become the Nazgûl...
He thought that if all of them, counting the many unimportant ones that were not recorded in the history of Middle-earth, were written down, it would make a very thick volume indeed.
How many times must I convince myself that I did not have a choice? Sauron thought angrily as he stood up again, turning his back on his now ruined realm and walking away a few yards, I wanted to dominate Middle-earth and its races, did I? I wanted to stay in the land as long as I could without being taken to the West. I worked diligently to advance my goal and subdued those who tried to stop me. And I got defeated, humiliated and sent to the Void because of that.
Then that means I could have avoided all this in the first place.
He cast the metal shard to the ground in frustration. There was a sharp crack as it struck, breaking the still silence.
Hmph...Eru is correct again. I chose to walk on the path to the Void myself after all. Argghh! I want to say that I never had a choice, find someone to blame on and be done with it! I curse my situation, my choice and the Valar! Curse everything! What am I here for again, stripped completely of my powers and unable to do anything? Does Eru wish to see me struggle along and suffer for his own amusement?
Master Melkor can nullify his power and restore you...
"Who speaks?" Sauron immediately turned around startled as a very familiar voice was heard.
He did not recognize it, but he felt that he had known it for a long time now. The possibilities of the speaker leapt into his mind quickly.
It is not...him, isn't it. He would never refer to himself in third person.
He can make you prosperous again. He can restore your Maia powers so you no longer have to remain powerless.
"Be silent, whoever you are!" Sauron was instantly on guard as he looked frantically around. For some reason the voice was making him uneasy.
Turn to him, and both of you will rule Middle-earth. Submit to him, and you shall have your revenge on those who defeated you.
"Show yourself now!" Sauron shouted loudly.
Who is this speaker then? He speaks of the desires I have. But I do not wish to achieve them with the help of my master, especially not after what happened at the War of Wrath...
There was a silence, and Sauron finally realized that the voice came from his own mind when he discovered that there was no one in sight.
I am your desires, your fears, and your former self. I am the one who will test you for your loyalty. I am the one who will try your endurance.
There was a silence as the voice temporarily stopped.
I am you, Sauron Gorthaur, and I will tempt you always until you submit.
Sauron groaned in frustration as he gave up searching for the speaker. If being stripped of most of his powers were not bad enough, now he had an annoying voice in his mind to deal with.
At the same time, a tall ominous shadow emerged seemly out of nowhere.
Again, I must ask myself. What am I doing? Am I supposed to side with those people? What about the Nine? I am especially concerned what had befallen Herumor, Fuinur and Eärnur since Sauron's Ring was destroyed. So thought the Witch King as he strode quickly over the desolate landscape around Mordor. He could hear Gandalf struggling to keep up on the punishing pace.
The two hurried along for awhile in silence, navigating the treacherous ground full of small pebbles and uneven areas. Everything was silent and still, save for the sound of their footsteps.
"A question I had been waiting to ask you," Gandalf stated, suddenly catching up, "You rebelled against Sauron while still under his service, correct?"
"And how does that concern you?" The Witch King answered with another question while wondering why the Wizard brought up that particular topic out of all things.
"I was very curious about that. You see, I know of the battle you fought at Minas Morgul. I never found out the cause for it. I also saw your attempts to help Gondor during the Battle of the Pelennor Fields and the Battle of the Morannan. You had surprised me greatly many times"
"You did?" The Witch King was surprised, "Sauron tried his best to keep that event from being known. I thought also that I had hid my plan to help rather well."
"I have my methods." Gandalf said mysteriously.
"I wondered about your loyalty since then," He continued, "You are one of the greatest and most terrible servants of Sauron, yet you are sometimes not what you appear to be. I wonder why?"
There was another silence, and he could sense Gandalf waiting patiently for him to answer. However, the Witch King chose to remain unspeaking. He rarely spoke of his past with another and certainly did not wish to start now.
"...You wonder much, Wizard," The Witch King finally responded, "The path I had treaded on was not lenient to me. But I was willing to pay the heavy price of rebellion. Sauron has gone beyond his boundaries, and I will not stand at one side watching idly while he destroys Middle-earth."
Gandalf studied the wraith again intently and mused for awhile.
"You are one intriguing character. If time allows, I would like to find out more about your encounter with Lord Eru. His doings always have a greater purpose, and I trust that he had a very good reason to send one as you back." Gandalf studied the Witch King closely, his bushy eyebrows knitted together in a frown.
"I do not know the..." The Witch King began.
"Save your words for later," Gandalf suddenly pointed with his staff when they arrived right in front of the Black Gates, "Our trek was not in vain. There is someone there."
Sure enough, there was the figure of a young man cloaked in gray. His shoulder length hair whipped around as he frantically looked for seemly signs of danger. He suddenly tripped on a loose stone and fell flat on his face with an exclamation of surprise.
"Who is that?" The Witch King asked curiously.
That man...looks horribly familiar. I felt I had seen him somewhere before. What is anyone doing around the ruins of Mordor anyway? He is certainly acting suspicious.
"Someone you should recognize," Gandalf replied cautiously, "Be on your guard!"
Who is he talking about? Do I truly know him?
Nevertheless, the Witch King laid a hand on the hilt of his sword while Gandalf readied his staff.
A foreboding presence fell on everything at the same moment.
The Witch King immediately drew his weapon with a steely rasp. He could still remember the time when he defeated all the orcs and subdued the Nazgûl on that day in Minas Morgul. He thought he did not have to fight anymore when this same presence showed itself, accompanied by the tall armored from of Sauron. He was still alive, and possibly closer than he thought.
"Sauron is here." The Witch King hissed.
"So he is." Gandalf said grimly.
Clank...
The sound of armored boots striking the stone ground.
They grew louder with each step.
Clank...Clank...
The young man was now near panic. He ran for it suddenly, stumbling over the uneven ground erratically. A familiar tall armored figure emerged from behind him and swung its mace, missing the man only by an inch. There was a small explosion of dust and shards of rock as the mace made a crater in the ground.
"It cannot be...!" The Witch King exclaimed.
"Impossible..." Gandalf whispered.
Sauron nearly tripped himself over again as he ran. He was still unused to his new body that actually hurt when he fell. But he had not recovered from his horror of seeing the former physical form he took appear and attack him for no reason. It had emerged seemly from nowhere and surprised him greatly. Here Sauron was, without weapons and power, trying to run away from himself.
You can run, but I will always exist in your mind. The voice intoned again.
Silence! Sauron yelled back at it, You are only a figment of my imagination. How is it possible that you have taken physical form?
That would be none of your concern, The figure pointed his mace, My role is to test you.
If I had my former powers, I would have blasted you into oblivion already! Sauron retorted.
But you do not.
"Young man! It would be prudent of you to leave this area immediately. We will handle him." Sauron heard another familiar voice ring out through the air. He turned to look at it, and saw the Witch King of Angmar along with Olórin the Maia standing in some distance away.
He is alive, just as Eru had hinted and confirming what I saw during the Battle of the Morannan! He must have got sent back also... What is he doing here along with Olórin then?
Sauron was almost glad to see a familiar face. However, he immediately grew suspicious.
The Witch King offers to help the master he despised? It would take the filling of the Void for that to happen! And that degrading title "young man"? I existed since the beginning of Time! Anyone would have known that!
Sauron almost laughed wryly right here and then.
He does not remember who I am. If he did, I am certain that he would be the first one to come at me. However, I do not need the Witch King's help to make this situation worse. He would certainly get in my way.
Sauron stood his ground and faced the armored figure, ignoring the two behind him. He heard running footsteps behind him as the Witch King rushed at his opponent with his sword. He slashed in a wide arc, but the blade glanced off the armor without touching it. Sauron could sense the Witch King's alarm as he tried again, his blade again bounced off without touching the figure.
Their efforts are futile, for my business is only with you. I am, after all, part of your imagination.
Then I command you to be gone! I have no need to have you following me around like this.
Things are not that simple. You must past the test first.
He saw Olórin raise his staff and call a ball of fire to strike the armored figure, which also never hit it.
So I have to fight this thing, why? It claims to be myself. Is this what Eru meant when he mentioned my former self bothering me? This is much more than bothering! I have no doubt that it will attempt on my life without hesitation. That voice also mentioned a test. Is this the test? To fight it? Hmph...pathetic.
A fight? You amuse me as always, Sauron. Perhaps one can be arranged after your pesky companions are gotten out of the way.
You, be silent and mock me no longer! You mentioned the test, and I will pass it! No one mocks Sauron the Maia himself and gets away with it.
The figure swung its mace and forced the Witch King back a few yards as he blocked barely in time. The persistent wraith tried one more time in a last rush. Annoyed at his pitiful attempts to attack the figure, Sauron carelessly put out his foot and tripped his former servant as he went past him. He fell unceremoniously with a heavy crash.
"What are you thinking?" The Witch King got up angrily, "I see you wish to forfeit your life."
Noticing just now, Sauron discovered that he could not see the face of the wraith under his hood. Formerly he could see into the world of the Unseen and perceived the Nazgûl as they had been when they fell into shadow. Now there was nothing at all after losing his power. However even while invisible, Sauron could feel the Witch King's furious stare burning at him.
"Same old Witch King of Angmar," Sauron met it evenly, "Always rushing into fights headfirst without thinking."
The other withdrew backwards in shock, but then recovered quickly and pointed his sword at Sauron.
"You!" The Witch King recognized.
In a flash, the Witch King had seen this same face again before him in the royal courts of Númenor. That same youthful face held a proud countenance, an expression of smugness as if he knew he had won. The stranger who wore that same face had claimed to be Annatar, the lord of gifts, and offered him that accursed ring which bound the Witch King under his service. This form was also the one Sauron took most frequently before he lost his body, albeit at least one head taller. He was much shorter than the Witch King, and looked much less imposing. Sauron's voice was also of a youth's, which he found hard to associate with the black hooded figure who spoke in a deep echoing voice always.
"You are Sauron!" He realized in horror, "I thought you perished along with your Ring!"
"So says the one whom I saw fighting at the Battle of the Black Gates after I watched him die. We meet again in Middle-earth." The young man, now revealed as Sauron, said loftily.
If this is Sauron, then who is that armored figure? Sauron also? If sensing his presence is not bad enough, there are now two of him!
As if on cue, the figure's mace descended upon the both of them. The Witch King chose wisely to dodge away while Sauron leaped safely to one side.
"A being of your intellect would have known already. Have you ever heard that one speak since your arrival?" Sauron pointed out.
Much as I loath to admit it, he is correct. That armor has not uttered a word, something the real Sauron would have never done. I should have realized the truth the moment he tripped me. It was something he would have done...
None of this makes sense again. Sauron should have perished when the Ring was destroyed. I saw the destruction of Mordor and his flaming eye go out. Perhaps he did survive in some miracle. But then, how did he get back his physical form? Does that mean that all I had done in the past, rebelling against him and all that, were all in vain?
No matter. Sauron lives yet again, and he must be destroyed. It would not bide well for the people of Middle-earth if they have to wage war with him a second time. Too many sacrifices were made to insure his defeat, and now it is all for naught. It is time to end this once and for all! I had suffered too much under his service to allow Sauron's life pass beneath my hands!
The Witch King chose not to reply and turned his sword upon Sauron. The other gave a startled cry of surprise, swerving away just in time. However, Sauron lost his balance again and fell as the armored figure's mace descended on him without a second's hesitation. Sauron rolled away to avoid the worst of the blow, but was sent tumbling from the resulting shockwave. He landed a few yards away and didn't move.
The Witch King couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as he considered that the Maia already had a deadly opponent against him and had no available methods to defend himself. After all, he would also be reluctant to face the same situation of his own.
This is Sauron! He reasoned angrily, He deserves no mercy or pity. He deserves not even the final release of death! Away he must be done with!
Spurred on by his decision, the Witch King ignored the figure's swipe of its mace and headed toward the immobile form of the real Sauron. He failed to notice the mace swinging back horizontally until it was too late. The Witch King was sent skidding painfully across the rocky ground as the mace scored a direct hit. Winded but not knocked out of commission, he recovered himself and headed for Sauron again. But about ten yards from his opponent, the Witch King was unable to continue on. He reached out a hand to meet an invisible resistance in the air.
"That would be a barrier spell," Gandalf had come to join him, "I am afraid that this is more serious than I thought. He actually came back, but how? He possesses his physical body also..."
"You knew." Something in the Wizard's voice revealed the truth.
"You could say that. But I was perplexed also. Sauron used both forms in his lifetime frequently."
"Why was I not warned?" The Witch King asked coldly.
"I did," Gandalf defended, "I told you that the young man was someone you might know. Now it would be useless to rush in and attack directly because of the barrier. We might just have to see what happens next..."
The Maia had tried limping away in a desperate attempt to flee after deciding that the armored figure was becoming an obvious threat he could not fight, but he was stopped by an invisible barrier spell. Now Sauron was now trapped, powerless and without any form of defense to ward off that armored figure. He had also previously twisted his foot as he was sent tumbling from that same weapon, and now it hurt every time he took a step. The cloak tangled up in his legs again and he untied it hastily. It was best to move around without such hindrance.
If this is Eru's sense of humor, then I do not find it amusing. Sending my "darker side" to harass me? I have no doubt that it would try to attempt on my life sooner or later. Sauron thought indignantly as he confronted the armored figure again.
You could avoid this fate by turning once again to Master Melkor.
And allow him to continue the torture he planned for me in the Void? I think not.
Oh, he will be merciful if you would humble yourself before him. Even though the Vala had always been merciless in his punishments, he is also quick to forgive.
You blaspheme. The Valar would have to leave Aman before Melkor would ever become forgiving and kind.
The figure brutally smashed the mace on the ground next to Sauron. He was sent flying again from the impact and landed on his twisted foot. Sauron grimaced as pain jolted up his leg. For a moment he wished he was still disembodied, unable to be injured, harmed or even to feel pain.
The figure extended its gauntleted hand, seemly as if to offer him a proposition.
You are making this hard on yourself. Why do you resist the secret desires you have? There is no harm in submitting to them.
What secret desires?
You want to have your power back. You want to be restored to your former glory. All this could come into being, if only you submit to Master Melkor. Do so, and you can be free from your current situation. Why do you insist in refusing Master Melkor's gracious offers? The Ainur would never accept you back among their ranks or treat you equally. You would always be a wandering traveler like that old fool Olórin, helping the various races in their petty troubles. Is that what you truly want? I highly doubt it.
How do I know if you are telling the truth? What if it was all a hoax?
I speak the truth. You know the hour of Dagor Dagorath will befall one day. On that day you will be restored if you would only submit!
Sauron stood, leaning on his good foot as he considered his choices. He did, as the voice had indicated, desire to have his power back. He hated being powerless like this with nothing under his command. He hated that he was humiliated before the Valar when he was defeated. And Sauron knew that he had nothing to look forward to or to do in Middle-earth, that he was doomed to wander the land without purpose.
Why me? Why did Eru send me back for no reason? Would it be better if I turned back to my master again? It is true that the Ainur could never accept me back among their ranks and still speak to me kindly, now that I am completely powerless? But I could have my power back somehow if I went to my master. Oh, the glory and might I possessed during the First Age! Vast armies under my command and the ability to do anything I wanted. Then I could rebuild Mordor and establish myself better than I did before. Probably I could become even more powerful than he. I could wreak havoc on those who had defeated me and avenge myself! All this could come true, if only I could submit...
You are finally beginning to see sense.
Tempting...if only...if only...I do want to have my revenge on that halfling who destroyed my Ring.
That particular idea was very appealing to Sauron. He was already considering the tortures he would inflict on his enemies with his new power. Infinite power could be in his grasp by a mere word of acceptance!
Surely it would hurt not to agree. Compromise, perhaps I could? Maybe my former master would be especially relenting...
"I accept..." Sauron began, but then stopped himself when a sudden thought came into his mind.
What about Eru? What would he say?
Tried as he can, the Maia couldn't forget the Creator's words. He felt a wave of guilt overcome him and started to regret his unfinished decision. In truth, Sauron feared Eru along with Melkor. But with Eru it was a reverent fear, not one of terror that forced him to serve his former master. Sauron can regain his power and former glory by turning to Melkor again, but what would Eru say?
What would Eru say?
He could imagine the Creator of Arda shaking his head in disappointment.
"I gave you a second chance and showed my mercy towards you when you should had been sent to the Void. Then you returned to your old ways as soon as you were sent back? Sauron, you had caused much grief in me." He could even hear his voice in his mind. Soon he heard something in the Creator's words that was out of the ordinary.
Eru had called him by the name Sauron, which he had never done before.
Sauron clutched his head with one head and gritted his teeth in frustration. Try as he might, he could not think of riches and power now that he thought of Eru's reaction, let alone submit to the temptations assailing him. Sauron realized a disappointed Eru was even more potent than when he was wrathful. For some reason, Eru had brought him face to face to his long forgotten conscience and the emotions he had buried deeply in his service to Morgoth. Sauron could not bring himself to return to his old ways without feeling that confounded guilt and remorse.
I will have Eru to answer to if I returned to Melkor.
Never mind him. This decision does not concern him.
Of course it does! Have you seen his wrath when I denounced the Valar? I think not. More potent and terrible than the might of Melkor it was! He said he sent me back to give me another chance. I doubt he meant me returning to my former master and rebuilding Mordor with my new powers. Eru gave me a new physical form! It would be a poor way to use it to continue in Melkor's works.
Cease this immediately! The voice suddenly increased dramatically in volume. Sauron futilely covered his ears until he remembered it came from his mind.
He is a deceiver. He never fulfills his promises. He abandoned Middle-earth and was never heard from again. He was powerless to stop Master Melkor when he rebelled.
Sauron slowly uncovered his ears and studied the figure again, who was now brandishing its mace menacingly. He felt anger well up inside of him as he heard more lies spoken by his darker side.
Silence! Sauron said coldly, I refuse to submit, and you will have to take drastic measures to force me to.
There was a long silence as both eyed each other warily.
So be it, Sauron. You will die for your foolish choice.
Sauron managed to dive to one side as the mace swept over his head. However, it was followed right away ruthlessly by the sword. He managed to dodge most strikes as swiftly as he could on one twisted foot, leaping away and flinging himself back and forth. Suddenly, the mace came towards Sauron's left, too fast to be avoided. He did the only thing he could at the moment and thrust up his left arm in a desperate attempt to prevent himself from being sent flying again.
There was a sickening crack as the mace struck. Sauron gave a cry of pain and was sent staggering from the blow. His left arm now hung in a strange angle, broken completely and useless. The pain burned worse than his foot and almost rendered him unconscious. For a moment Sauron struggled to stand as his vision flickered black. He finally stumbled to his knees, gasping in exertion. Sauron had gone through plenty of pain before under Melkor's service. But he had a nearly indestructible form that recovered from injuries with abnormal speed, not to mention that he was almost at his full power at that time. However, here Sauron was, with a powerless mortal body subject to wounds and still without a weapon.
Death has no hold on me if I do not allow it to. I laugh in the face of it! I stand up and defy it! It is not death that I fear, but what will follow it. If I truly died here now, I would be sent again before the Valar and be humiliated. Again I would be thrown into the Void! Besides, I highly doubt my former master would allow me to get away this time. I would rather give up my control of Mordor than to have all that happen again!
Eru, you got me into this mess. You better be responsible for getting me out.
The figure stabbed its sword toward Sauron. He was unable to dodge now as he cradled his broken arm. The sword descended on his head at the same moment as suddenly he swept up his good hand by instinct.
A trail of light was traced where Sauron's hand had passed in the air. There was a sudden brilliant flash, bathing everything in a shade of white for a few seconds and blinding him momentarily. When it faded, he discovered that the sword was no longer on its course to ending his life. It was lodged tight against a long scythe that had materialized out of the light trail, which was held in Sauron's raised hand.
The scythe had a rather simple design, and only had a few minor differences from the ones used in reaping harvest. The metal colored a warm golden-bronze, it shone strangely with a light of its own. It was as long as the figure's broadsword, the shaft curving outwards slightly. There was a sun-like design on the part where the blade intersected with the shaft.
Sauron gave it a deft twist and yanked it free from his opponent's sword. He then slashed furiously with a new found strength, driving the armored figure back.
This is...
He took the sparse time to observe his weapon again and noted its potent power contained within. Sauron suddenly remembered the moment when he held the same scythe in his hands as he took the blacksmith's hammer to it, hammering it into form in order to please Melkor when he first joined him. Unexpectedly it had turned out to be his finest work, enough to rival Aulë's own. There were many hidden abilities and magical properties in the powerful weapon that he had yet to discover. However for some mysterious reason, Melkor despised the scythe immensely. He ordered Sauron to cast it into the sea and warned him if he ever forged something like that again, there would be consequences. The fine weapon had been lost ever since, and Sauron mourned for it at first. But later he forgot all about it through the Ages.
Oâreuensolqaûn Aereînotaðehcalês...
It was named in Valarin, the mysterious language of the Ainur. The name meant "rising dawn-light".
It is back? But how? After three Ages, I had given up all hope in seeing it again. Then today it reappears like this in my hands after so long? It is as if some divine intervention participated in this. But at least I can defend myself now, as well as I could with a broken arm and a twisted foot.
Sauron hefted the scythe with his left hand and swung it around a few times experimentally. He found that he could wield it better if he held it in a backhand grip.
A good balance and a good weight. It has been long since I held a weapon this fine. It is time to put Aereînotaðehcalês into good use.
The figure attacked again with the mace and broadsword. This time however, Sauron met the attack head on and trapped the sword underneath the blade of his scythe. He heaved upwards, sending the sword spinning into the air and landing out of reach with a loud clang. Sauron then parried just in time as the figure's mace struck towards his now vulnerable left side. He had to use both hands to keep himself from being knocked off balance. Pain flared up again from his broken arm.
Even now that I am no longer defenseless, I cannot last much longer. Confound everything! Obtaining a weapon was not helpful at all!
Stop! The voice in his mind roared, You will cease your useless resistance! Do you not see how not returning to Master Melkor will be your doom? Shunned you will be, among all the races of Arda. You will rather subject yourself to more humiliation and ridicules than to be restored? If you insist in your own ways, then I will continue my assault until you break and submit completely!
Confound it! It will be not holding back now...
Sauron gritted his teeth and attacked the figure viciously. The scythe swung well, scoring hits on his opponent's armor with clear rings. No major damage was done however.
I suppose this was exactly how the Witch King felt when he fought against me. My armor was well forged, and there are no easy openings. It was a miracle that he impaled me when we fought in his mind. Perhaps I can take a page from his book?
However, Aereînotaðehcalês was not made for stabbing but for swift slashes...
Dodging another mighty blow from the armored figure, Sauron struck again. They exchanged a series of attacks, with the Maia mostly on the defending side. Although his slashes were quick, they mostly missed his opponent. Sauron now realized that he mostly relied on fighting by brute force and recoiled not from blows because they glanced off his armor uselessly. He had no need to aim his attacks accurately or develop a fighting style. In truth, Sauron did not know how to fight. He had disarmed the armored figure of its broadsword by pure luck.
His twisted foot was not helping matters at all as it hindered his movements. Finally Sauron was unable to parry another attack and was sent flying through the air. He collided with the invisible barrier, falling to the ground. The scythe fell clattering from Sauron's slackened grip.
As for the Maia, the pain he experienced previously was nothing compared to this. From the fierce burning sensation in his left side and the difficulty to breath normally, he could tell the mace had broken at least three of his ribs. As he lay there on the cold stone ground, broken and bruised, he couldn't help but think that he had made a mistake in not submitting to the temptations earlier placed on him.
Was it...a mistake? If I had submitted, would all this be avoided? But no. Why should I give way to this pain? I had experienced worse under the hand of my former master. However, I am loath to admit it that I can no longer fight on in my present condition. I had never fought an armed opponent without armor before, and I never practiced swordsmanship in battle...
I am giving you one last chance, the voice warned, Which would you choose: Returning to Master Melkor or death under my hand?
You are not giving me a choice.
Sauron managed to stand up again, leaning on the invisible barrier. He covered his mouth with one hand and coughed. It came away red with his blood.
This is no mere test of arms. The true test is the temptations that are placed on me. True it is, that I could regain my former status by submitting. But had I not brooded over Melkor's return and how I would not be looking forward to it? Then why am I struggling like this?
Sauron suddenly realized something in that voice he had not noticed before, a fact that was so simplistic that he scolded himself for failing to notice it earlier. He could use it to his advantage to great effect. All thoughts of submitting fled his mind as he laughed triumphantly, which turned another hacking cough. Sauron then bent and retrieved his scythe again.
So foolish, you are. Or I could say I myself am the foolish one. You wish to kill me or for me to submit. Both choices lead to the same path, a meeting with Melkor. I am afraid this is not a choice at all, and I will have to refuse both options.
No! No, you will not...!
Silence! Sauron shouted mentally, Stop trying to deceive me anymore. I want to walk on my own path, turning to no one. I want a new beginning without Melkor or any kind of master! I will make my own way in Middle-earth, no matter the method. Completely without power, you ask? Why not? At least Eru would not be after me for turning back to my old ways. As for Melkor, I will conceal myself if necessary when he returns and leave the battles up to the races instead. Better it is to become powerless and favorable in Eru's sight, than to return to Melkor and be under the wrath of both!
As Sauron spoke, he was aware of his weapon giving off a soft yellow light again. He brought it up to examine the scythe closely, which began to get even brighter. Suddenly raw power surged through the Maia, and he almost exclaimed at the magnitude of it. Sauron immediately recognized it as part of the power he had as one of the Maiar before he turned astray. He knew he had lost some of it when he joined Melkor, but only dismissed it as a minor inconvenience. Now he regretted that as he was filled with this new strength, seemly banishing the pain and hindrance of his wounds. Sauron was only aware of everything becoming brighter until the only thing in his vision was whiteness. Being in the darkness for so long and now exposed to great amounts of it continuously, Sauron was hesitant to give in at first, for the light hurt painfully.
Why am I struggling like this? He asked himself again, My first priority should be defeating this figure and getting out alive. Now is the opportunity to do so. Give in then, give in! This is my power, and I will use it to its fullest.
At that moment, Sauron was faintly aware of rushing forward with Aereînotaðehcalês towards his opponent. He was then slashing mercilessly, each strike a deadly blow that sent the other staggering.
Then there was only the light, consuming his world until it was the only thing he was aware of.
As the fight wore on, the Witch King was watching frustratingly from the outside. He longed to break through the barrier and finish Sauron off faster. However, he could not help feeling twinges of pity for the Maia as he was knocked down again and again. He no longer cared for that armored figure, but had focused his attention on that young man whom he knew was the real Sauron. Sauron was fighting a losing battle, and the Witch King was also struggling with one of his own.
I wanted to see him defeated and perished for so long. He was defeated. I saw it with my own eyes. But Sauron is back now. How?
I would have shown no mercy on him if I had discovered his identity earlier. He would have been dead before he knew it. Sauron was the one who ruined me, who brought about my downfall! Such a being deserves to be punished severely for what he has done. I would gladly do it also and end his life.
Yet...
The Witch King felt almost sorry as he saw Sauron mysteriously gain a weapon of his own and start taking the offensive. However, that did not turn the tides in his favor, for the Witch King saw that the Maia was injured already, made worse when he took a direct hit from the mace.
Do I truly wish to see Sauron die or not?
Then Sauron was charging towards the armored figure, his scythe a blazing arc of light. His slashes were suddenly accurate and sure. Finally as Sauron was obscured completely in the light that now radiated from him, the Witch King could see his scythe spinning faster than the eye could follow. His opponent was struck again and again without mercy, staggering from the impact. Then Sauron hurled the scythe hard at it, and it burst into rays of more light on contact. When everything finally darkened down, the armored figure had disappeared without a trace.
Why am I hesitating like this?
The Witch King proceeded beyond the barrier, which broke when the armored figure vanished. Sauron had already collapsed unconscious face up on the ground from his injuries. For a moment he found it hard to imagine that his master, the once proud and haughty Sauron who lorded over all in Mordor, was lying there looking so frail and broken.
He stopped a few feet away from the Maia, and readied his sword.
You failed to perish under that armored figure's hand, although I still do not know how you managed to be in two places at once and attack yourself like this. You were the one who almost destroyed Middle-earth. So many had died because of you, Sauron, and countless had suffered.
You deserve death for what you had done.
For the drowning of Númenor, for the corrupting of the Nine, for everything.
But the Witch King could not bring himself to bring the blade down. He suddenly began to wonder about this whole situation, about how Sauron had returned from the dead. It was impossible, since his Ring was destroyed. The ruin of Mordor had proved this fact true. Sauron should have never been able to rise again. He lost all of his power and was unable to return with a physical body.
Unless...
If Ilúvatar pardoned him also.
The Witch King rebuked himself for the ridiculousness of that idea. Why would the Creator choose to pardon Sauron out of all beings? If Herumor, Fuinur or Eärnur had been pardoned, he would have rejoiced. Or even if it were Khamûl or the Mouth of Sauron, he would have congratulated them after a bit of struggling. But Sauron himself? He did not deserve it at all!
In fact, you may choose not to forgive him at all. But always remember that I forgave you, young one. Ilúvatar had said.
The Witch King now knew what he had meant. He didn't have to worry about forgiving Sauron if he were defeated and residing in the Void. It was because that he was sent back. Ilúvatar had known that he would attempt on the Maia's life if he saw him again. He warned the Witch King that this would happen.
With a cry of frustration, he hurled down his sword where it struck quivering in the ground an inch next to Sauron's neck. He seemed to flinch a little from the resounding clang, and then was still again. It was as if Sauron knew that he had narrowly escaped death again, and would be doing so many times.
Gandalf made his way finally over to the battleground. He had also watched everything carefully, and thought all the more during the entire time. He left the Witch King to his thoughts when he went through the barrier. The wraith was in a great struggle, he sensed. Gandalf had no doubts that he truly opposed Sauron while under his service and strived to help the free peoples of Middle-earth earnestly. The Witch King was a great mystery already, but greater was the mystery of the appearance of Sauron.
It puzzled the Wizard greatly to see two manifestations of Sauron together. This one of the rare things that he did not comprehend at all. Now that the battle was over, it was evident that the armored figure was only either an illusion or a false image. That young man was the real Sauron in the flesh.
They had once been close companions during the short time when Sauron was formerly known as Mairon. They sang together in the Ainulindalë until Melkor caused the great discord. Mairon had joined in with the rebellious Vala's music, and Gandalf tried to get him back on track after a great struggle. The two grew apart as they came to serve under different Valar, Mairon under Aulë and Gandalf under Manwë. When Mairon finally joined Melkor and became Sauron, he was one of the many who mourned his fall. Now as Gandalf saw Sauron back in his original form, he felt pity well up in him for the fallen Maia who had so long spent his days in the darkness, with nothing else only but his master to cling to. Long days spent in the halls of Nienna had taught him to pity and mourn for the lost more easily than others.
Gandalf came upon the scene of battle and saw a rather odd sight. Sauron was lying unconscious, with the Witch King standing at his feet. A sword he recognized as the wraith's protruded from the ground near his neck threateningly.
"What has happened?" Gandalf asked cautiously.
The Witch King did not reply.
Instead he reached out a hand, grasped the handgrip of his sword and drew it out. He allowed it to hang loosely at his side as he looked at Sauron again.
"I cannot do it." The Witch King said quietly, "He was the master who oppressed me, and I longed to see his defeat and death. Now he lies before me defenseless, yet..."
"I cannot do it...I cannot do it..." He muttered, shaking his head.
By the way, I would change the name of Sauron's scythe later. The current name was a pain to type and pronounce...
Please review and see if this story can hit up to at least thirty of them! Please?