Disclaimer: Yeah, I still don't own LOTR.
**Chapter 10**
**Deirdre's POV**
War. The sounds raged outside of my window in the tower of darkness. The last of the Orc armies on foot were leaving Mordor, monitored by a single Nazgul. Yet there wasn't sorrow blooming in my chest for the attack that was going to fall on Minas Tirith. Only apathy.
The stale hot air filled my lungs as I watched over the departing armies in this red world. My mind was wandering over the outcomes of the battles to come, how they would only nearly fall into the favor of the fellowship. The thought was incredibly disturbing, the thin line between success and failure. My thoughts however were interrupted by a knocking at my door.
"Enter." I called, stepping back in from the balcony and the sound of an army.
Morwen quietly slipped into the room, a grim smile adorning her face. It was the same look she bore every time that the mouth of Sauron summoned me for a council.
"Dinner with the mouth again, Morwen?" I questioned blandly.
"Yes, my lady. He has requested you to join him for dinner tonight." Morwen responded in her pitying tone, she could never understand how I could stand to be at the same table with the mouth.
"Very well, I suppose I ought not to keep the mouth waiting." I responded drily, moving toward the door which she opened for me.
My footsteps sighed on the smooth stone of the hallways, barely making a sound as I strode towards the great dining room of the Tower. Inside the chamber the mouth sat in the seat just to the right of the great center chair. A smirk formed on my face when I saw this, so the captain of Mordor had learned his place. He rose from his seat when he saw me at the door, lowering his head in a bow.
"My lady, so glad you could join me." His words coursed like oil over silk, slimy and full of displeasure.
"Of course, captain. I presume you desire to speak of what will come to pass." I commented, taking my seat at the head of the table.
"Yes, my lady. Perhaps you would like to shed some light on what we should expect after the battle at Minas Tirith." He returned with a sneer.
"Very well." I replied, taking a drink of the wine which sat before me. "Our armies will be overcome outside the walls of Minas Tirith. This you know."
"Yes, my lady. Though I question why we waste the troops in this attack knowing that we shall fail."
"That is why you will never be a great strategist, captain. You think only of numbers and losses. Never thinking of what the enemy will be thinking." I retorted, before placing a piece of meat within my mouth.
"And what important thoughts of the enemy will come about by losing half our men?" he questioned harshly.
"They'll think they can win. That they have a chance. Defeating the invading force outside their walls will embolden them." I replied, looking at the mouth with a confident expression on my face. "There is nothing more dangerous than hope."
"So we shall make them think that they can succeed?"
"Yes, we shall make them come to us. And when they do, we will be waiting." I returned, slight warmth spreading across my throat.
Idly my hand wandered up to the pendant which hung at my throat; the stone had warmed against my skin, returning the heat to my flesh.
"Then we will crush the resistance."
"First we will crush their spirits. Within a month's time there will be intruders detected near Minas Morgul, behind them they will leave a corselet of mithril. With it, we shall break them."
A frown settled over the enormous yaw of the mouth, his straining lips dropped their sneer and pulled towards his chin.
"You question how armor may cause such pain?" I asked the mouth, amusement leaking into my voice. A dark cruel enjoyment filled with mockery.
"Yes, my lady." His tone had gained a darker current, anger threatening to break through the surface.
"You shall see, captain. When the time comes, you will wield a corselet and do more harm than any blade could." I finished with a smirk before finishing the food on my plate. "Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I would like to work with my bow a little more."
Before the mouth could say anything, I rose from my chair and strode out of the chamber. I didn't bother returning to my chambers, instead making my way directly down to the archery range. A man with rotted out teeth and dark hair, sat picking at his nails with a small dagger. As soon as I approached he quickly rose from his seat, bowing his head.
"I require a bow." I stated, causing the man to rush into motion.
I watched as the Southron man rushed away from the chair which he sat at, and instead searched out a sturdy and ornate bow. Once he had presented the bow to me, he lowered his head once more.
"That will do." I announced, allowing him to return to his seat.
As I turned away from the man I felt a hint of revulsion catch in my throat. Before when I had been at Isengard these moments struck me frequently, but now I could feel the shift in my heart. A searing iciness burned within my chest, blocking away the emotions which had bubbled within me for so long. Setting up to take my first shot at the target, the thought struck me. My heart truly was made of ice.
**Saffy's POV**
A chill swept through the canyon as we rode onwards towards the entrance of the mountain. In the distance I could spy the great black doorway, darkness against the grey stone of the mountain. The sun was beginning to rise, making the world more grey than black as it had been in the dead of the night. Yet the sounds of the morning, which rise up with the dawn of birds singing, animals moving around, even the wind sweeping through the trees and the grass were absent. Instead there was only the sound of our party and a distant echo of wind sweeping against rock. A chill swept through the canyon, sending a shiver up my spine the nearer we drew to the true paths of the dead.
"What kind of an army would linger in such a place?" breaking the quiet which had ensconced us.
"One that is cursed." Legolas responded in a hushed tone, barely willing to break the silence and still of the road. "Long ago, the men of the mountains swore an oath to the last king of Gondor, to come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them, never to rest until they had fulfilled their pledge. Who shall call them from the grey twilight, the forgotten people? The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the North he shall come, need shall drive him. He shall pass the door to the Paths of the Dead."
Those words spoken as a prophecy, quieted Gimli for the time. Causing the haunting silence to reclaim the air. I glanced over at Nimiwen, seeing if she was at all affected by the sense of warning which surrounded us. Feeling my eyes on her, she turned to face me flashing a reassuring smile, before facing ahead once more.
After a few more minutes atop our horses, the creatures seemed hesitant and grudging with their steps. Forcing Aragorn to descend from Brego's back, meaning that the rest of us followed suit and were soon leading our horses down the pass.
"The very warmth of my blood feels stolen away." Gimli shivered, his eyes darting around as though searching for a cause to the chill in the air.
"The way is shut." Legolas stated in a haunting voice.
"It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it." Nimiwen continued, her voice gaining the same ghostly cadence that Legolas' had contained.
"The way is shut." Legolas finished his eyes traveling away from the doorway and over each member of our party.
A gust of wind swept out of the doorway, causing yet another shiver to sweep through me. Yet it disturbed the horses far more, they pulled away from the entrance rearing and crying as they did. My shoulder burned from the feeling of Aldred's incessant pulling. Finally, the reins were pulled free as Aldred fled back through the path we had already taken. The other horses raced along beside him, leaving only gusts of dirt behind them.
"Brego!" Aragorn called after his horse before turning to face the entrance to the mountain. "I do not fear death."
I watched the ranger slip into the shadows, after challenging the spirits which dwelled within. It kind of seemed like poking the bear with a spear to me, but I wasn't going to say anything to Aragorn.
Legolas walked straight in after Aragorn, his face set with determination. I took a glance over at Gimli and saw that he was wavering, before looking at Nimiwen. She gave me a soft smile of reassurance before it turned into a mischievous grin. With that look on her face she pulled out her bow and stepped into the darkness of the mountain. I shook my head back and forth for a moment in amusement, before heading in after them.
The darkness swallowed me whole, leaving the shock of darkness to sting within my brain. There was a moment where my eyes seemed to fill with light before returning to the black surroundings. I paused after a few steps into the mountain, letting the sound of the cavern bounce around me and my breath settle back to its normal volume. There were pounding footsteps coming from my rear, heavy enough to be Gimli. While ahead there was the slight brushing of feet across stone and dirt, elven and ranger footsteps crossing the ground gracefully. Aside from the chill and scent of rot in the air, it was almost peaceful surrounded by the darkness.
Something brushed my hand before grasping it, the feel of soft hands with calloused finger tips. My eyes slowly began to adjust to the darkness around me, as I looked up I saw Nimiwen's pale blonde hair standing out in the shadows. I gave her a smile, knowing that she could undoubtedly see better than I could. There was the sound of someone fumbling about with their pack a little before me, before a blinding light filled the cavern causing me to gasp and cover my eyes.
The seared image of a flame flashing across my retinas, as my eyelids flickered open. Once the bright light began to dissipate from my vision, I looked to see Aragorn was holding a torch in his hand. I blinked my eyes a few more times, owlishly, before noticing that Aragorn was smirking at my reaction.
"Lead the way, fearless leader." I teased, gesturing for Aragorn to go first.
He rolled his eyes before taking off away from the entrance to the cave, leading us deeper into the cavern. Legolas glanced over our party ever so briefly before clutching his bow and following after Aragorn. My gaze turned to Nimiwen, who simply shrugged and continued after the slowly dwindling torchlight. I took a few steps, before looking back at Gimli as he held his axe aloft before him. His footsteps picked up rapidly, catching up to me as we continued on down the path.
There is a certain timelessness to the darkness, no matter how many whispered conversations or endless walking, minutes and hours seemed the same. It was quite like being back within the mines of Moria, only without the comforting presence of our companions. No hobbits complaining that they were hungry, or Gandalf's wise words and lessons, not even Di sitting beside me in the dark still soaked from lake water but teasing anyway.
Yet another gust of wind bit through my clothing and armor through to my skin, causing me to shudder. Fog was brushing through the pathway, leaving tendrils in the dark corners curling up towards the roof of the cave. I glanced into one of the corners, thinking I saw the shape of a person within the mist, before another shudder passed through me. The other members of our party halted, hands fingering their weapons. Seeming to pass it off as a trick of the light, Aragorn continued on down the pathway, leaving us in his wake. Yet both Nimiwen and Legolas stood fast, gazing into the corners and shadows, their eyes scanning methodically.
"What is it?" Gimli asked, his voice a muffled whisper. "What do you see?"
"I see shapes of men and of horses." Legolas replied, nodding his head lightly towards the tendrils of mist.
"They are making their way down the path as well, towards the center of the mountain." Nimiwen added; her voice soft as though wary to warn the specters of our presence.
"Where?" Gimli questioned, concern tinting his voice.
"Pale banners like shreds of clouds. Spears rise like winter thickets through a shroud of mist." Legolas commented, continuing to watch the figures in the mist.
"The dead are following. They have been summoned." Nimiwen stated calmly, her voice becoming eerily impassive and emotionless.
I reached out and lightly touched her hand, causing her pale blue eyes to meet mine. She attempted to give me a reassuring smile; that everything was going to be fine. Yet there was something lacking within her expression, the slightest bit of fear that maybe we were in more trouble than we had previously thought. But it passed away, leaving only reassurance and confidence in its place. We continued down the corridor, moving slower now to muffle the sound of our footsteps. Though some part of me knew that it would do nothing to aid us.
"The Dead? Summoned?" Gimli's words flooded towards us, though he tried to cover up the fear. "I knew that. Good, very good."
His speech grew silent and there were no footsteps behind me, so I turned back slightly to see Gimli turning his head as though searching for the ghosts, then his cry rang out through the air once more. "Legolas!"
He followed after swiftly, feet thudding heavily against the ground as he attempted to catch up. By the time he reached us again, there were hands in the mist slipping towards us. My eyes slid to Nimiwen, her countenance impassive and unafraid, even as a hand brushed against her cheek. Straightening my back and shoulders, I attempted to do the same walking boldly among the reaching hands. A brush of icy air moved a lock of my hair back behind my ear, only a white mist from the corner of my eye. I closed my eyes for barely a moment to compose myself, never stopping my movement. The cold crept over my body: sliding across my back, brushing my arms, tangling around my ankles as though to hold me.
My eyes trailed down to where the mist was wrapping around my ankles, searing cold through the heavy leather of my boots. The smoothest pale stones lay beneath our feet, seeming to be cobbled in some places. Their rounded shapes were broken by gaping holes in the stone, fissures snaking through the material, and jutting edges ruining their smooth lines. Just as my gaze caught upon one of the stones, Aragorn's voice broke through the reverie.
"Do not look down."
That imperative sunk in as the shape below my feet became recognizable, the gaping holes where the eyes had rested, fissures formed from our heavy steps, and the jutting edges where the teeth had begun to decay and fall away. The smooth stones below us were human skulls, thousands upon thousands of them. They filled a massive canyon so that we could have a pathway directly through the mountain.
I could hear Gimli pause in his steps to glance down at what lay beneath his boots. The soft gasp of realization before the attempt at delicate footsteps, yet instead of soft steps instead there were the resounding cracks as the skulls shattered beneath his weight. I cringed with the first break, before moving as lightly as possible over the remaining skulls, hearing only two cracks from my own feet.
As soon as my feet hit solid ground, I took off running after the other members of my party who had done the same. The solid sound of boots striking solid ground at a run was comforting after the stomach lurching explosions of the skulls. From the sides of the path now came whispers, swarming towards our ears. I glanced back seeing only masses of mist beginning to surround us. Finally, we came to an abrupt halt in the center of what used to be a city. Now the town square was bare, random boulders strewn across the ground.
"Who enters my domain?" A gravelly voice demanded, just as the mist which had enveloped us grew into people.
Around us stood an army of ghosts, bearing battered weapons and ragged armor. The cliffs around the town square shifted, forming buildings and shops against the walls. Women tended to their duties, gathering linen and milling together. Forever punished for their husbands' cowardice.
"One who will have your allegiance." Aragorn retorted, confidence ringing in his voice.
"The Dead do not suffer the living to pass." The King of the Dead growled, his voice slowly regaining its strength.
I glanced around the circle, noticing that the soldiers were adjusting their grips on their weapons, fingering their hilts and spear butts. My gaze turned back to Aragorn hurriedly.
"You will suffer me." He threatened the army of ghosts, glancing about amongst them.
For a moment, silence rung through the air. Aragorn's threat had stolen away the King's words. But it could not last. Cackling cascaded through the cavern, chilling the air even further.
"The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. And the dead keep it. The way is shut." The king repeated the warning that had been outside the entrance to the mountain. "Now, you must die."
Twin bows twanged as their arrows released into the army. The normally deadly whistle passed through the ghosts harmlessly before clattering against the walls of the cave. My hands tightened on my sword hilts, waiting to draw them until Aragorn did.
"I summon you to fulfill your oath." He demanded, his voice carrying his presence.
"None but the king of Gondor may command me." The king returned with a smirk, clearly thinking that he had pulled the ace.
The King moved towards Aragorn, looking as though to attack him. Yet the ranger quickly drew his sword and reached out grabbing the King by the throat then holding the blade close to the King.
"That blade was broken." The King uttered in disbelief.
"It has been remade." Aragorn shoved the King away before turning to the rest of the army. "Fight for us and regain your honor. What say you? What say you?"
Aragorn moved through the crowd, sword held aloft, as he attempted to persuade the ghosts to join our cause.
"Ach! You waste your time, Aragorn. They had no honor in life and they have none in death." Gimli called out to our leader.
"I am Isildur's heir. Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled. What say you?" Aragorn tried to convince them once more, resulting only in the laughter of the army as they faded away. "Fight for me, and I will release you from this living death. What say you?"
We stood alone in the quiet chamber, waiting for the answer. Yet there was no sign from the ghosts; no movement or brush of cold air like before.
"Stand you traitors!" Gimli roared at the empty air.
There was the echo of a massive crack shattering the air, before the wall to the right exploded in a shower of skulls and bones. They poured down to the ground before flowing toward our party.
"Out!" yelled Aragorn.
My feet couldn't fly fast enough for my taste, my hands falling away from the swords at my sides to pump beside me. As my breath quickened, I barely had a chance to glance around at my companions. The sounds of their footsteps lost in the chaos of the cascading bones behind us. Aragorn called out from the front of the group about the doorway out of the caves ahead, which spurred my running even more. Finally, I reached the safety of the wide platform before the exit; taking the chance to look behind us I spied Gimli stumbling towards the platform, his sprinting barely managing to get him to the platform as a skull smashed into the ground a foot ahead of his feet.
Gimli and I were the only members of our party panting, while the others looked fairly unaffected by the activity. Aragorn gave a curt nod to us all before stepping out into the sunlight beyond the cave. Filing through the doorway, I followed Nimiwen out of the darkness to the fresh air. After taking a moment to glance around our party in the light, making sure that everyone was unharmed, I gave a brief smirk.
"Well, that was fun. Now what?" I questioned teasingly.
"Now we move on towards Gondor. Army or not." Aragorn replied, turning to face the river where black ships were sailing nearer and nearer.
"It's likely a losing battle, laddie." Gimli interjected.
"I know, but we go onwards nevertheless."
My heart sunk into my stomach, I had been thinking that maybe we had a chance still. But that had dissipated when Aragorn had sounded so resigned. I took a deep breath steadying myself for what was to come, briefly shutting my eyes before facing the world once more.
We began to make our way down the path towards the river; the sun was directly above us in the sky, yet there was a wisp of green in the middle of the path a little ways away. Without thinking too hard on it, we continued down. Only to be met with the sight of the king of the dead standing in the middle of the pathway, his appearance ethereal in the bright light.
"We fight." He stated clearly.
***End Chapter 10***
I am so sorry that I haven't updated in so very long and I really don't have anywhere near a good enough excuse. So I'll just say sorry once more. Hopefully, I will be able to get back into writing on a regular basis. However, if you can forgive me for not updating in so long and leave me a review I will be most appreciative.