A/N: Okie doke! So a very perceptive reviewer pointed out to me that I had Theoden die in the Battle at Pelinnor Fields but he was talking in the last chapter! Whoops! So please disregard his presence in the last chapter please and thank you to the one who pointed it out, you know who you are!
Disclaimer: Nothing here!
~~Chapter Twenty Four~~ There are somethings that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep...
And sometimes you didn't want to know the end… because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing… this shadow. Even darkness must pass.
Legolas rode forward towards the Black Gate with his friends around him. He was prepared to break off from the rest of the group whenever he got the chance during the chaos of battle to find Valo's prison. He was prepared for anything, he thought.
" Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Let justice be done upon him!" Aragorn shouted at the structure, waiting for something to happen.
And then, something did. The Black Gate opened just a small amount, just enough to admit a single Fell-Steed. Legolas was not prepared for what came through. On the back of the black horse was a helmeted figure that Gandalf had said they may encounter. The Mouth of Sauron was the creatures name. He was the Dark Lord's Lieutenant, a twisted accursed being. Sitting in front of him, in the creature's arms was a small black cloaked figure that took them all aback. The shock of what he was at last seeing forced the returned King of Gondor to silence. Valo sat between his arms, armed and silently watching them all. Legolas's heart was in his throat. It seemed there would be no need to go and find the teen after all. Valo had come to him. The Hobbits behind him both inhaled in shock at the sight. The Mouth of Sauron grinned, his enormous teeth stretching the already ripped sides of his mouth, seeming to push out of his mouth, spreading dark blood oozing over the brown teeth. His helmet covered his entire face with the exception of his ruined mouth. He was a being so old that his name had long been forgotten but all, even himself, save the one small figure in his arms. The Mouth was ancient but Valo was older still. There had been whispers that Mordor's Lieutenant had been amongst the few that had come with the Dark Lord from Outside. He was truly a horrible thing to behold.
"My master Sauron the Great bids thee welcome." The Mouth spoke, giving the group that horrific grin filled with rotting teeth.
The Hobbits looked a little pale at the sight of him and though the Fellowship was holding its own at the sight of the pair, they were all seven stunned into silence. Legolas's mind was filled with the image of Valo's smile and laughter, his terrified face as he was being pulled into the sky, and then tried to make it fit the Valo he was seeing now. This Valo truly looked the part of Sauron's Consort: fine black plated tunic encasing his body, falling down to his knees, the slit in the side allowing for his black breech enclosed legs to have full movement. For the first time, Valo's almost impossibly long hair was down, falling about him like a curtain and allowing the faint wind to snag errant strands. A visage of the Great Eye, the same that decorated Mordor's flag, was painted upon his brow as if Sauron himself were staring out of the teen's face. His eyes had been encased in heavy black eye makeup, serving to make his already unearthly emerald eyes look acidic and poisonous. He had yet to look any of them in the eyes, only staring forward with a guarded though somewhat despairing look in his eyes. It was as if he was too afraid to see what they thought of him now. Now that he was back to being his Master's right hand.
" Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?" The Mouth said with as much of a frown as his disfigured mouth could give.
"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed. Tell your master this. The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return. He must return Valo to us and leave Middle Earth forever." Gandalf spoke loud and clearly across the valley Udun.
Valo's eyes shot to the Istari, widening in surprise at his boldness. Surprise that they would even want him back…A sharp laugh began building in the Mouth's chest, echoing out across the valley so intense was it's sound. The Mouth's booming laugh was grated and stretched his diseased mouth so wide that the edges ripped further than before, spilling black, putrid blood down Valo's shoulder and his neck. The teen didn't seem to notice, much to Aragorn and Legolas's internal disgust.
"Aha! Old Greybeard! You have much invested in my Master's Consort, I see. Perhaps you even care for him deeply. Know that he suffered greatly for your love." Legolas drew his horse forward a step but stopped at Valo's desperate, pleading shaking head. The Mouth, sneered as much as he was able, "And could this be the elvish princeling himself? Legolas Greenleaf…you will suffer greatest of all. Just as your beloved Halfling did."
The Mouth of Sauron jerked a shining, familiar Mithril shirt from his cloak, his gruesome grin returning. Valo had fallen still, his eyes darkening and turning back to the ground as if he were beaten. Only the Fellowship could see the silent rage boiling like a churning sea within those down turned emerald depths. The horrifying figure tossed Gandalf the metal shirt cruelly.
"The Halfling was dear to thee I see. Who would've thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he did Gandalf, he did."Valo released a furious hiss and with a single swing of his sword, he turned around in the saddle and cut off the foul thing's head without warning. The Fellowship took a small step back, their horses spooked for a moment by the quick attack before them. Aragorn led Brego forward as Valo stared down at the body on the ground.
"Sorry Lucius…" The teen whispered before turning back to the men before him.
Aragorn was watching him with soft eyes, pleading for him to be alright. Legolas stood his ground, his mind working overtime. It couldn't be this easy. Sauron would not leave Valo so unprotected after just gaining him back. And if Valo had been punished as the Mouth had said, it suggested that Sauron had been infuriated with the teen. So why was he out of the Dark Lord's sight with only the Lieutenant of Barad-Dur for a guard? It seemed a little too good to be true. The Dark Lord would not give Valo a chance to escape again, not unless he knew the teen couldn't…or wouldn't.
"Valo, come back with us. We've come to rescue you." Aragorn said calmly but his expressive eyes belied the concern for the teen that he was shouldering.
Valo was silent for a moment, his eyes nervously flicking to Legolas. The elf stepped up beside his friend, his hand reaching out for the Morgul child to take.
"Please, Valo…" He whispered, trying to let the teen know how sorry he was.
How big a fool he had been. The horse that the teen rode snuffled nervously and Valo reigned it in, still watching them all. His eyes lingered sadly on the elf prince, no longer longing seeking approval or attention but resigned and worn down. His entire countenance was one of long-suffering acquiescence.
"I love you, Legolas," He whispered brokenly, his voice a gasping sob, "but I'm right where I belong. I'm right where I deserve to be. My Master needs me…and I can't live without him any more. It was a fool's dream to think I belonged out there with you. I can't…be what you want me to be. I can't pretend to be anything more than what I am. Not anymore." As he spoke, he began backing the steed up, the Black Gate reopening for his admittance.
"Valo! Valo, wait!" Legolas shouted but the teen had already disappeared behind the structure.
The Black Gate did not close again like they expected though. It opened slowly but surely, revealing the massive army amassed behind. Mordor was emptying. The battle was beginning.
~ o ~
"By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand! Men of the West!" Aragorn shouted from below, urging his army to unsheathe their swords as the orc army advanced.
The small army was being quickly surrounded on all sides, the scene looking compellingly like a target. In his mind's eye, in his heart of hearts, Valo stood upon the brink. It was as if, as he stood upon an overhanging ledge of the sharp Ephel Duath foothills watching the battle rage below, he was separate from it all, from even his body. Set apart and yet still one somehow. This was his purpose. To serve as a physical embodiment of his Master until his resurrection. The battle for Middle Earth's fate seethed below. The Witch King of Angmar stood at his back, holding him safely against him.
'It is time.' He whispered, his eyes still on the surge of Orcs and humans in the valley.
'Yes, Master.' The Wraith King hissed in his ear releasing his holding on the small figure.
Valo pulled himself aboard the cursed steed, watching the Witch King take to the skies. He spared the battle one more apathetic look, his emerald eyes glowing a firey orange and his Master's will flowing through his veins. He was falling away into darkness…Valo spurred his steed down the mount and from the skies, the Witch King shrieked, heralding his Master's arrival. As he rode down into the fray, the entire battleground stilled for a single heartbeat as he approached, his magic and presence sending a wave of fear over every being in his vicinity. It fell over the Orcs as well but, after all, what were they for if not canon fodder for his war? By the time he had cut into the first Gondorian soldier, the battle had resumed. The Nazgul flew overhead, their shrieks enough to make any man cover his ears and cower.
He looked up furiously as a roost of the Great Eagles swooped down on his Nazgul, joining the battle from the air. He released a furious hiss that was not his own, his hand stretching out towards one of the beasts.
"Avada Kedavra." Sauron whispered through him, the tingle of power in his arm becoming a tidal wave at his Master's command.
A bright acidic green bolt of magic shot from his palm like an arrow, hitting one of the Eagles in the back. The creature froze mid-air before dropping below to it's death. It's fellows cried out at their loss and an emptying space seemed to clear around him. All save one man…Elessar watched him from mere feet away, his sword in hand and a determination in his shimmering blue eyes. Valo felt a smirk stretch his face and he boldly dismounted his steed. He raised his own sword in a challenge. He would take care of this problem now. Men were like an infectious disease. They spread their plague like flies, more and more rallying to the leader. He could take out their leader now and fix the problem before it undermined his entire empire. The sounds of the battle and bloodshed around him only spurred his bloodlust forward. He would have Elessar's head on a platter and be done with the entire line of Kings at last.
He lashed out at the pitiful king, their swords meeting in the middle. Aragorn was a good warrior…but he was holding back. He didn't want to hurt the Key. His blazing eyes met a figure behind Elessar, struggling to reach them. He sneered. That pathetic elf prince. He would skin him alive and then see how pretty he was. He struck out at Elessar again, forcing him back. Their swords met again but this time he pushed a little magic into his blade. It sparked with lightning on impact and, triumphantly, it forced the would be king to the ground. Valo stood over him, his sword raised to end this rebellion once and for all when a whoosh cut through the air. He frowned, unsure why he was stopping for a moment until pain exploded in his side. Valo looked down at his torso, his Master's presence fleeing from his body as the Witch King shrieked from above. It took his mind a long agonizing moment to recognize the arrow jutting obscenely from his body and the blood now pooling in his clothing around the wound. His eyes cleared of all traces of his Master as his sword dropped to the ground beside Aragorn. His emerald orbs met the elf standing only a meter away now filled with pain and confusion. Legolas's bow was hanging loosely from his hands as if he couldn't believe himself what he had just done. Aragorn pulled himself up from the ground just as the Witch King landed behind Valo, scooping him up into his arms before taking flight with him once again. Valo's eyes never left Legolas's own as he was pulled away. Darkness began to tug him into unconsciousness as he was carried across the Ash Plain. His mind rebounded with the thought that Legolas had shot him even though his eyes had said that he didn't want to. Valo's eyes closed, the Witch King beating a hasty retreat with him as quickly as he could.
~ o ~
The Great Eye widened in horror, it's gaze flicking around desperately seeking some sort of survival. The army of Man cheered it's victory as the last of the Orcs fell into the pit swallowing the only entrance to the Black Lands. They could see from the gate, in the distance, Barad-Dur falling, crumbling away. Without another thought, Legolas grabbed the nearest steed of a fallen Rohirrim and set off as if the Nazgul themselves were at his heels. He didn't have time to celebrate their victory now. He could only hope that the Witch King had not taken Valo to the now collapsing tower. He rode to the Morgul Vale as fast as his steed would allow, praying to the Valar that Valo still lived. Aragorn and Gandalf watched him ride away even as the Istari took to the skies on the back of an Eagle. No one heard the screams of a small figure far off in the distance.
R&R! Up next: The last chapter!