AN: THANK YOU SO BLOODY MUCH TO EVERY WHO REVIEWED! This chapter wouldn't have been out this soon without you guys!

Also, Here's a link to what I'm picturing the Necromancer as: lvowl . deviantart art/Sauron-the-Deceiver-372668929

Just paste the link as is. If you can't copy&paste (I think the site doesn't allow that anymore), you can search 'Sauron the Deceiver LVOWL'. A google page should come up with it being the first result.

Chapter IV

The Secrets of the Sea

I felt the warmth of the sun on my face as I stirred. My vision was red as its rays shone through the small blood vessels in my eyelids. I opened my eyes and quickly brought an arm up to shield my face from the sun. And then I realized that I wasn't wearing my winter coat or my school uniform. Instead, I found I was wearing a pale pink dress, heavily embroidered with gold around the neckline and bell sleeves. But that wasn't the only thing off about my appearance. As I looked down at myself, I saw that my hair was no longer blue. It was my natural color, dark brown, and was much longer and softer than it should have been, than it ever has been actually.

Unsurprisingly, I was pretty freaked, seeing as the last thing I recalled was being pulled into a dark abyss of doom. And now I was… where the hell was I?

I was in a meadow, the grass bright green and swaying in a gentle breeze that carried a sweet fragrance. There were tall purple and blue flowers scattered about in large groups- up close, they looked like clusters of tiny bells. Far off into the distance was a range of mountains, majestic and tall and capped with white snow. The sky above was the most perfect I've ever seen with a clear cerulean backdrop and swirling clouds that only added it its beauty. It was like paradise.

But it didn't make any sense. Shouldn't I be in hell? Or something close to it? With ghostly wails and brimstone and wrought iron signs that read: Ye be damned, all who trespass here!

Not that I was complaining. But…

I stood up and noticed I was barefoot. I hoped there weren't any snakes in the grass… Still in utter disbelief at the whole situation, I did a 360 on the spot, eager to find an answer somewhere. I found none unless the answer was more flowers.

Maybe I died. Maybe that's it. I died and literally went to heaven. Or some version of the afterlife.

I pinched my hand to see if—ah! Okay, unless there was still pain in the afterlife, this was probably something else. I sighed and put my hands on my hips. Well, either I could do a rendition of "The Hills Are Alive" from The Sound of Music or I could walk around and try to find out where I was. I chose the latter but let it be known, it was a very difficult decision.

The more I walked, the more I felt I was in a hamster wheel like I wasn't covering any distance. Since there weren't any trees in sight, I headed for the mountains since they were the only landmark to measure my progress by. The only problem was I wasn't making any progress. No matter how far I walked, I never seemed to get any closer as if the mountains had sprouted legs and were trying to outrun me!

Maybe I was in limbo. Or the Twilight Zone.

In a fit of frustration, I kicked the petals off a few nearby flowers and glared at the ones that remained on the stems. I swear they were laughing at me. This paradise was really ticking me off. I considered trying to dig a hole to see if it led anywhere. I'd probably be able to dig through to the other side of the world and I'd end up in exactly the same spot!

Screw this place. And screw those flowers!

"Is this vicinity not to your liking?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of the deep voice behind me. I spun around to face the Necromancer and my eyes went wide as saucers.

He… Well, he wasn't what I was expecting.

Like his voice, he was the perfect image of Benedict Cumberbatch, only… less human. His hair was pitch black and fell straight, past his shoulders, the top half pulled back and intricately braided, revealing pointed ears. He wore a navy tunic with a high collar that fell to his knees and beneath that, from what I could see, was a paler blue robe. Silvery gold designs were stitched into the rich fabric that cloaked his form and shone in the sunlight. He almost looked Elvish but something was slightly off; I couldn't tell what.

Oh, right. He was pure evil.

Had I not been scared out of my wits, I may have stopped to appreciate his attractiveness. But his looks were overshadowed by his cold demeanor and the emptiness in his eyes. There was just this aura about him that radiated danger. I swear even if I had been staring down a hungry grizzly bear, I'd have felt less threatened!

His lips curved up into what was supposed to be a smile but the ice in his eyes ruined it and made him seem serpentine. "You did not answer me. Does this not please you?" he asked, gesturing to the scenery.

I went to shake my head but stopped. "Where is this, exactly?" I managed, my voice wavering against my will.

"It matters not," he replied coolly. I really was having a hard time accepting him to be the Necromancer. I had never seen him in the role so it didn't seem to fit. It was like looking at evil Sherlock! It was just too weird! "I wish to know your name, mortal."

My heart was steadily beating in my chest, pumping chilled blood through my veins. I shivered. I really didn't like the idea of him knowing who I was. Not when I knew who he was.

"Tell me."

There it was again—the silent threat, almost hidden by a fake smile.

"I…" I considered lying, like I had done with the hunter, but something told me otherwise. My instincts flared and I knew that lying to this being would not be in my best interest. "Emily," I uttered, feeling queasy at hearing my answer. "My name is Emily."

A little part of me grinned at withholding my surname—at, least he didn't know my full name! Ha!

The Necromancer took a step forward and I, one back. He paused, tilting his head slightly as his eyes scanned over me, assessing me. "You fear me, Emily," he said, drawing out each syllable of my name. "Why is that?"

"You kidnapped me," I growled as if I just realized it. "Threw me in a cell and you're wondering why I'm a bit uneasy around you?"

"You misunderstand. It was I who saved you from the horrors of the dark forest... Should you not express thanks?"

Like hell! I bit back a retort as the metaphorical warning alarms blared. "Thank you," I said, begrudgingly. Status quo, I told myself.

The Necromancer acted as if he couldn't care less and continued on. "In return, I desire to know more about you, Emily." There he goes with my name again! "Will you indulge me?"

I licked my lips nervously. "What do you want to know?"

"From where do you hail?" he asked, not missing a beat.

Uh, let's see. Rohan, probably not. Those women are normally blonde and toned. Maybe Gondor? I realized my hesitation was giving me away.

"Dale," I answered, in my panic, mistaking the ruined city for lake town. "It's right on the border of Mir—"

"You lie," he hissed.

I clicked my tongue, slightly annoyed that he saw through my answer so easily. "Yeah? Try and prove it," I sassed then immediately regretted it.

The Necromancer was suddenly right in front of me. I hadn't seen him even move! Lightning fast, he raised his hand. For a moment, I thought he was going to hit me but he merely placed a finger under my chin. It was his middle finger, I noticed, because his index finger was missing—the one that Isildur had cut off and along with it, the One Ring.

I tried backing away but I found I couldn't move! And not the 'frozen in fear' type of immobilization—I literally was unable to move, not a muscle! My breath hitched, coming up in short pants as panic set in.

He tilted my face up so that I looked him in the eyes. The irises were strange; gold tones surrounded the pupil and along the borders were streaks of an unearthly blue as well as a few flecks of browns. But the emotion in them was warped and strange. It was like looking into the eyes of a beast.

"There is no need to speak falsely," he said, stepping closer and craning my neck up to keep eye contact. "Not to me."

I wanted to say something, to tell him off, to call him 'Deceiver' for that was what they named him after he turned to darkness. But still, I couldn't move or talk as if I was under a spell.

"I can grant all of your deepest desires," the Necromancer continued in his low bass. "What is it you long for, Emily? Wealth...? Power…? Love…?"

He slowly circled me, his finger tracing my jaw as he walked. With him out of my line of vision, I could only watch the flowers before me, still swaying and taunting me.

"All I require is your cooperation," he purred in my ear. A shiver ran up my spine but I didn't shudder. "Tell me what I wish to know and you will be rewarded. Tell me what I wish to know and all of your deepest dreams and fantasies will be granted to you."

I felt myself slipping, growing weaker, falling further under his spell. My eyes fluttered closed for a moment, my mind clouded with a sense of dizzying bliss. Just tell him. Tell him everything. He can help me… send me home… I opened my eyes to find him in front of me again, hands clasped behind his back.

"What are your dreams, Emily?"

I blinked slowly. Home… I want to go home…

My lips parted, ready to divulge all my secrets for the hope of returning home, out of this nightmare. "I want…" My voice trailed off as I looked him in the eyes, those cold, unfeeling eyes.

"Yes?" he coaxed.

A fog seemed to lift from my mind as I remembered to whom I was speaking. The hell was I thinking? Trusting this SOB was about the same as making a deal with the devil!

"Drop dead, you creepshow!" I snarled, somewhat surprised at my courage. Or rather, my blatant stupidity.

It was official. His lure-me-into-a-false-sense-of-trust-and-seduce-me- with-grandeur-and-glory plot was over.

The Necromancer grabbed me roughly around the throat and effortlessly hoisted me off the ground. I was paralyzed still, unable to grab his hand and relieve some of the pressure. It was as if I weren't allowed to struggle whilst hanging to death; I just had to accept it and wait. If you've ever had to support your whole bodyweight with nothing but the bones and tendons that connect your head to your neck, you know exactly what I was going through. Of course, there's a good chance that you're loads luckier than me and can only imagine. I was immediately light headed; I felt as if my head would explode as the blood pounded against my skull.

All around us, the meadow shriveled, the grass and flowers were obliterated in a blaze of quick dying fire. The ground left behind was blackened and cracked, jagged rocks jutting out haphazardly. A howling wind roared by, whipping my blue hair in my face—oh, yes, my appearance went back to normal by now—and stripping the oxygen from the air, replacing it with thick, hot, sulfuric gas. Thousands of dark flakes of charred ash rained down around us in a mock blizzard as an earthshaking rumble filled the air. The range of mountains was now just one solitary peak, tall and alive with molten fire—Mount Doom.

"It was in your favor to oblige me, mortal," he hissed, his voice calm and monotone.

My skull connected with the ground and I found myself lying on my back, the Necromancer hovering over me. His free hand covered my eyes, nails digging into my temples. I could hear him chanting in some language; it was getting harder to breathe, to think. A tingling sensation swept through the front of my brain then pain exploded in the back.

I screamed but all that sounded was a strangled moan. In that moment, I regained control over my body but it was altogether useless for the pain coursing through me took hold of my actions. My back arched and my toes curled inward, tears streaked back into my hairline and my teeth gnashed together. I tried clawing at his hands but the act was frantic and ineffective. As my nails dug into his flesh, I couldn't even draw blood as if his skin were made of steel.

All of a sudden, an image rushed up from the depths of my consciousness.

I was laughing loudly, green frosting covering my nose and mouth as I sat in front of a smooshed birthday cake. My mom, the culprit who had pushed my face into it, stood behind me, doubled over with laughter. Dad handed me a napkin.

"Wait, wait," Jen cried, leaning over the table to take a picture of me. She laughed after the flash. "You look like a cake monster!"

I grinned, trying to lick icing off my nose. "Oh, yeah?" I started, grabbing a chunk of cake. Jen squealed and ran off with me hot on her heels. "I'll make a cake monster out of you!"

Jen locked herself in our bathroom, both of us giggling like mad. "I'm not coming out!" she called.

"Well, I'm not leaving," I laughed.

"Girls, you make a mess, you're cleaning it up," dad called from downstairs.

"Yeah, okay," I said back.

Jen opened the door, watching me suspiciously. I took a bite of cake from my hand and she laughed. "Tastes good," I said and we both cracked up.

"I'd hope so. It took almost—"

The scene was cut short and replaced by a succession of different memories. Riding my first bike. Being home sick. At a Fantasy Faire. Having a wand fight with Jen.

"Expecto Patronum!" I shouted, flinging my Sirius wand out, pretending to cast a spell.

"I'm not a dementor, you nitwit! Sectumsempra!"

"Protego!Shut up! Expelliarmus!"

Jen laughed. "What? Are you Harry Potter now?"

"Harriet Potter," I corrected. "Can't beat me! I'm the chosen one!"

It switched, flashing through memories faster than I could process. Faces, places, conversations all merged together in a jumbled mess, sparking new pangs of pain. Then it all slowed.

I was in bed, clad in pajamas, my knees drawn up to my chest and a book balanced on them. A look of intense concentration was on my face as I turned the page.

Without looking, I reached over to my side table to grab a mug of tea. I pressed the brim to my lips, still reading. I returned it to its place, forgetting to even take a sip as I was so enthralled in the story.

I couldn't place the memory exactly. It seemed like such an insignificant event that it could have been one of a thousand just like it.

I turned another page, finishing the chapter, and set the book down.

That's when I saw the cover of what I had been reading. That's when I knew that this memory was important, why this evil being stopped to see it. I was reading The Fellowship of the Ring.

I forced my eyes open despite the pain and saw the Necromancer's face through his fingers blocking my vision. The molten lava that spewed from Mount Doom was reflected in his wide, golden eyes, making them blaze with unnatural light.

All my knowledge of The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit was at his disposal if he were to dig a little deeper into my mind. With it, he could destroy everything and change the course of the stories. He could find the One Ring and cast all of Middle Earth in eternal shadow.

I couldn't let that happen.

The Necromancer was intrigued, I could tell. The pain in my head had been such a constant that I almost had gotten used to it. Almost. It felt like someone was squeezing my brain, invisible fingers digging into the lobes, ripping them apart.

There was an image of Rivendell. Frodo waking up in the House of Healing. I was watching the movie.

No.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one."

No!

A Balrog of Morgoth stood on a great stone bridge, roaring with demonic fury.

NO!

"Isildur! Cast it into the fire! Destroy it!"

The son of the King turned to face the elf-lord. He smiled sickly, holding the Ring of Power in his hand.

"Get out of my head!" I screamed but he paid me no notice. "Stop it!"

I tried to empty my mind, tried to force my thoughts away from anything that could help him. But it was like closing a door with someone on the other side trying to force their way in.

A lidless, flaming eye perched atop the black tower, Barad-dûr.

I focused on something else, anything else, to draw his attention away from the information he wanted. He tore through my mind like a crazed beast but I had nineteen years that he had to sort through. My mind was an ocean, a vast, bottomless ocean. And in depths, I tucked away my most valued treasures, my memories pertaining to the Tolkien-verse.

The all-seeing eye invaded the whole of my vision. The flames so bright, they hurt to look at. The long slit of a pupil blacker than the darkest night, a gaping and endless chasm. It spoke in a deep, rumbling voice.

"I… SEE… YOU…"

Before the intruding Leviathan that sought my treasures, I threw everything else at him, confusing him, infuriating him. Every birthday party I've ever to been to. Every glance I threw at Ben Disher in math class. Every slumber party. Every snow day. Every family outing. Every fight with a friend. Every goldfish I'd named and had to flush down the toilet. Everything. All of the trivial, nonsensical memories I had were weapons and, like hell, I used them.

His frantic search continued on, fueled by greed and lust of power. But his hunger outweighed his strength for he was weakened without the Ring, without a body. The Necromancer's abilities lessened and slowly he retreated from my mind. And for the briefest of seconds, I relaxed, and my guard lowered ever so slightly and that's when he surged forward, one more attack, into the smallest of cracks in my mental shield. He withdrew almost immediately after, having gained a small fragment of information from me. But that tiny piece was all he needed. A name and a face. His name, his face. But I hadn't called him the Necromancer, this time.

I had called him Sauron.

No one in all of Middle Earth knew that Sauron still lived on in spirit form, that he had hidden himself in the old fortress of Dol Guldur under the guise of the Necromancer until he attained more strength. Except for me.

Shit.

The Necromancer, Sauron, stood a few feet from me, his composure back in place, save for twitch of his lips in a half-second smirk. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at me, almost curiously.

"You are not of this world, Emily," he stated. "Your knowledge is somehow beyond all others… and I will make much use of it."

I was blasted backwards and everything around me burst into a swirl of white wind and black earth, until all I saw was an empty grey void.

I collided with the cold, hard ground. I was back in Dol Guldur, lying in between the lifeless wraith statues. The vines were back in their places overtaking the walls. The night was still and silent.

I felt drained of all energy, unable to even lift my head from the ground or contemplate a next course of action.

Sauron knew my name… and knew that I had his.

He'll come back for me... for more information.

He can't get the Ring… he can't… I won't let him…

I closed my eyes and fell into my ocean.