Volume 2 - Chapter 05
Harry followed the trail lit by the tracking spell and flew towards Cirith Ungol. Frodo kept a firm grip on Harry the entire flight. Unfortunately, the tower they flew to was still inhabited by more than a dozen orcs and at least half a dozen uruk-hai. Thankfully, there wasn't a full army in Cirith Ungol, but there were more enemies than Harry felt comfortable taking on with only Frodo at his side. While Harry felt confident in his skills, he had never been tested against such numbers before. Harry itched to test his new skills, but knew that keeping Frodo safe was more important.
The wizard landed, in what he hoped was a safe area, and put a finger to his lips to keep Frodo from asking any questions. Partly because he didn't trust that they wouldn't be overheard without first putting up privacy wards and partly because he had no plan as of yet, meaning Harry had no answers to give.
Cirith Ungol was a broken-down outpost. The walls were cracked, broken in some areas, and missing in others. Harry and Frodo were perched just above an open staircase between two towers. The two stayed silent and watched as the orcs and uruk-hai went about their day. Frodo ensured his hood was up and stayed as still as he could manage. Harry set privacy and a notice-me-not wards before putting his broom back into his pouch.
Below them was a courtyard filled with barrels, carts, orcs and uruk-hai. Unfortunately, Sam was nowhere to be seen so they'd have to search through the place to find him. But first, they'd have to get past all of the enemies without getting caught.
Inspiration struck Harry as an uruk-hai passed the half wall he and Frodo were crouched behind. The wizard summoned one of the uruk-hai's arrows from the quiver hanging at his hip. Frodo's brows furrowed in question until Harry pulled his bow and nocked the stolen arrow.
Frodo grinned, looked at the courtyard below them, and pointed at the perfect target: a number of orcs bickering with each other. To the left of the orcs were uruk-hai that looked disgusted and bored. Harry grinned, gave a small nod, and took aim at one of the orcs. The arrow hit its target square in the throat. Harry immediately threw another notice-me-not spell over their area to further hide him and Frodo.
All enemies within that area turned their attention upwards to see where the arrow had originated from and all they saw was the uruk-hai that was still walking along the staircase, bow in hand. That's when the fighting started: orc against uruk-hai, orc against orc; wizard and hobbit against them all.
- - - - MoD-V03 - - - -
Predictably, the foolish humans fell to the orc army. What Er-Murazor hadn't considered was that any of the humans still retained self-preservation instincts enough to escape. After all, they willingly came to Osgiliath with the full knowledge that there was an orc army - that they already ran away from - waiting for them. Yet a few humans had indeed managed to escape with their lives… barely.
The slaughter boosted the morale of the orcs immensely. It had been a long time since they had fresh meat that wasn't their own kin. But before they could mutilate the bodies, Gothmog demanded the heads of each of the humans. That did not sit well with those under his command. The human heads were a much-desired delicacy with tender brains and juicy eyes… but the orc leader had other plans for their… prisoners.
Er-Murazor watched with a mild disinterest. Under normal circumstances, the Witch-king would have fully supported Gothmog's plan. Perhaps he'd have even rewarded the orc leader for his ingenuity. Spreading fear amongst your enemy was always a good tactic in warfare. Er-Murazor was almost ashamed he hadn't come up with the idea himself.
The Witch-king sent his hell hawk down to feast as he stood above them all. Er-Murazor's gaze was once more directed over Pelennor Field and beyond. Gothmog came to the Witch-king for more directions, but Er-Murazor wasn't ready to give them. The Witch-king made the orc stand there silently. His hell hawk had returned before Er-Murazor finally spoke, "{On the morrow, send forth all legions. The siege towers will join you on the battlefield. Do not stop the attack until the city is taken. Slay them all.}"
Gothmog stood silently taking in the enormity of the task put to him. His gaze swept in the direction of the white stone city before he asked, "What of the White Wizard?"
Er-Murazor dismissed Gothmog's concerns, "{He is of no consequence.}"
- - - - MoD-V03 - - - -
The orcs at Cirith Ungol had outnumbered the uruk-hai, but their vast numbers weren't to their advantage. Their horde dwindled as there was fighting within the orc ranks as well. Most of the orcs were easily killed by the uruk-hai and would have been completely overrun had Harry not assisted with the dwindling of the ranks on both sides.
The wizard would summon an arrow, Frodo would point out a target, and Harry would shoot it. That system worked quite well for the pair until there were only three uruk-hai remaining. The three were looking around for more foes, swords in hand and bloodlust in their eyes.
Frodo bit his lip and looked to Harry in concern, but Harry wasn't worried. The wizard grinned, held up a finger to gain Frodo's attention, and then pointed down at the last three foes. Harry flicked his finger from one uruk-hai towards another, using the banishing charm to fling one combatant at the other. The uruk-hai looked at each other with growls of challenge and attacked.
Shaking his head, the hobbit just said, "Remind me never to anger you."
Harry chuckled softly, not commenting on Frodo's observation, and recast the tracking charm. "Sam is up in that tower."
The two moved up the staircase towards the tower on their left, winding their way towards the top. There was a cackling sound coming from above them followed by a scream of terror. Frodo cried out "Sam!" and ran up the remaining stairs pulling Sting as he went.
The wizard wasn't too far behind the hobbit. Harry was amazed at how fast that little halfling could move when motivated and heard more yelling before he made it into the room at the top of the tower.
- - - - MoD-V03 - - - -
Pelennor Field, where the battle began, had once been filled with orcs and trolls. Sauron's army started with the usual tactics of spreading fear and discourse. Trolls fired the trebuchets, while the orcs aided with the reloading. They had released their 'prisoners' back to the people of Gondor, by lobbing their severed heads over the closed gates and into the streets of the white stone city. Other trolls began battering against the city's gates, while the rest of the army waited impatiently, chanting encouragement in their guttural voices.
By the time the gate had been breached, the reinforcements from both Rohan and the Easterlings had arrived. Then the fighting truly began. Orcs and trolls flooded the white city, while the Earolingas clashed with the Easterlings.
Er-Murazor remained at the highest peak of Osgiliath watching over Pelennor Field as the mûmakil trampled the riders from Rohan. The Witch-king once again noted how little the humans cared for their lives as they threw themselves at the larger beasts in a vain attempt to stop them from reaching the white stone city. The death screams coming from below called to his fell beast. Er-Murazor's hands tightened on the harness to keep his mount from attacking and the hell hawk danced beneath him in frustration.
A man in golden armor called out an order to his troops, "Rally to me! To me!"
With an enemy general on the battlefield nearby, the Witch-king felt the pull to confront the human and hissed at the pain. Sauron's pull, lure, commands, and demands were growing more enticing and harder to deny.
Er-Murazor was nearly blinded by the need to kill in His name, but he closed his eyes, picturing his master's young, kind face, the understanding in his green eyes, and gripped the reins tighter. Just as Er-Murazor felt more controlled over his actions, screams came from the river. The black boats of the Corsair had arrived and with it came a new terror.
Death.
The lure of the hunt, the scent of death and destruction, and the beauty of the fear that came with it was too much for the Witch-king to deny. Sauron demanded a response. The nazgûl let out a scream of agony, his hell hawk let out a scream of anticipation.
Er-Murazor groaned '{Please. Forgive me, Master}' and took to the air.
- - - - MoD-V03 - - - -
Frodo was straddling a twitching body when Harry arrived. The hobbit's sword was plunged into the orc's back. Frodo grunted as he twisted his entire body to jar the sword loose. The blue shine of Sting was fading rapidly as black blood pooled under them. Harry stilled for a moment to take it all in. He had only arrived moments after Frodo, yet the hobbit had things under control, allowing the young wizard a moment to breathe in relief.
During the commotion created by Frodo, Sam had managed to back away to lean against a wall where he slouched, gasping in pain. The blonde was holding his arms across his chest where blood gathered and ran down his torso like a slow seeping river. There was so much blood. Harry's calm fled as quickly as it came and panic threatened to take over. Harry gasped out, "Sam?" Harry darted to his new friend. Dropping to his knees beside the injured hobbit, Harry grabbed his pouch from around his neck and summoned two potions: blood replenishing and healing. "Where are you hurt?"
Sam didn't speak, just grunted and moved his arm slightly. Harry first thought Sam's arm had been cut, but the movement revealed a long gash across Sam's torso that he had been trying to hold together. Frodo joined them after having ensured the orc was indeed dead and not getting back up. The hobbit allowed his sword to clatter to the ground and asked, "What can I do?"
"Um." Harry had to think. He clenched his hands to keep them from shaking and took a deep breath. After the vision Harry had been pulled into, Luna made a point of helping Harry train in a number of useful spells, including healing ones. Up until now, Harry had been healing animals, not people. Harry mumbled to himself, "Apply pressure to slow the bleeding... clean the wound... healing spell... potions..." Harry looked at Frodo. "Sam is already applying pressure, I have healing spells that can clean the wound, stop the bleeding, and mend the skin. In the meantime, try feeding him this." Harry held up a vial. "This helps his body replenish the blood he's lost. Now, I'm warning you, potions taste nasty, but they work. Make sure he drinks it."
Frodo sat behind Sam, allowing his friend to lean against him instead of the wall. After some prodding from Frodo, Sam finally moved his arm away from his chest and Harry finally got a good look at the injury. Harry used a tergeo spell to siphon the blood. Sam shivered at the feel of Harry's magic.
Frodo urged Sam to drink the potion. Sam groaned. "That's vile, Mr. Frodo."
"It will help," Frodo countered and made his friend drink the second potion down.
By the time Sam finished drinking the potion, Harry successfully healed the wound. Sam's skin was sporting a thin pink line that would fade over time. Harry took the empty vial back from Frodo. When Sam saw his chest he looked surprised. "That's it?"
"That's it," Harry agreed and shrugged, "It won't be big, but you have a battle scar."
Sam deflated with relief and Frodo snickered, "Samwise the Brave."
"You didn't taste those things," Sam pouted.
Frodo asked, "Are you hurt anywhere else?" Sam glanced at Harry as if afraid to admit any other wounds and Frodo poked his shoulder. "Tell me, Sam. We can't help you if you don't tell us if there's something wrong."
"Please, don't make me drink any more of those potions, Mr. Frodo," Sam squeaked. "They're powerful disgusting."
Harry was shaking his head in amusement as Frodo reprimanded his best friend.
- - - - MoD-V03 - - - -
Er-Murazor landed his hell hawk in the middle of the conflict and dismounted. He did not rush his movements but moved with purpose and assuredness. All around the Witch-king, the humans on both sides of the war killed and maimed each other. Many were crying out from their wounds or were simply dying. He removed his favorite weapon from the saddle harness, looked at his faithful hell hawk and set him free to hunt, "{Feast upon their flesh!}" He watched as his loyal hell hawk screeched in joy and took flight seeking prey.
The Witch-king was the last of the nazgûl. The power Sauron had over the rings was now focused entirely on the Witch-king of Angmar. Gripping the pommel of his mace, the Witch-king raised it over his head with a swing of his arms and let out a long soul wrenching scream of pain, acquiescence, and defeat. Er-Murazor wasn't strong enough to ignore His commands anymore, and was no longer certain that he wanted to. Where did Er-Murazor's will end and Sauron's begin? Did it matter? Perhaps at one time, but now Death was his only companion.
Swinging the mace with ease around in an arching move, Er-Murazor laughed as bodies flew: crushed, broken and bloodied. The Witch-king no longer cared who he killed: orc, Haradrim, human, or beast.
- - - - MoD-V03 - - - -
Harry pulled the map out once more and the hobbits looked at the path they were going to be taking. There were scattered orc camps that were still manned throughout Mordor that they'd have to try to avoid whenever possible. From the tower at Cirith Ungol, Harry, Frodo and Sam could see the scattered fires that were lit across the land and the volcano that was their goal.
"It still feels so far away," Frodo commented as he stared at Mount Doom from the safety of the tower window.
"It is far, but we've come further. What's a few more days of travel?" Sam asked with a crooked grin as he came up to stand beside his friend. The hobbit had changed into a clean shirt and instead of throwing out the bloody torn one, Sam kept it as a reminder to be more careful in the future.
Harry folded his map again and, as he was putting it away, he felt his mirror vibrate. The young wizard immediately withdrew the mirror and answered the call, "Naneth?"
"[Linovahle had a dream,]" Galadriel said without preamble. "[She saw you in a fortress with the nazgûl.]" The woman sighed in relief. "[I am pleased to see you survived the encounter.]"
"[I had to release them, so we met in a safe location,]" Harry explained.
"[They are gone?]" Galadriel asked, a frown marring her beautiful features. "[Even the Witch-king?]"
"[He is the only one left,]" Harry stated. "[I will free him once this over.]"
"Harry. Ionneg." Galadriel closed her eyes briefly and looked as if she were temporarily pained. Then his mother sighed heavily before telling him, "[He cannot fight Him alone. The Witch-king will fall.]"
"[But no man can kill him,]" Harry objected.
"Ionneg," Galadriel touched the mirror lovingly as she repeated, "[The Witch-king will fall.]"
- - - - MoD-V03 - - - -
Er-Murazor stopped swinging his mace and allowed it to hang limply at his side. There were no foes within his vicinity. None were within striking distance or approaching him. He looked at the Rohirrim as they moved away, further towards the gates of Minas Tirith. It was that same rider, the general in gold armor, that had called to his troops earlier that was steering them further from his reach.
The Witch-king screamed his frustration and his hell hawk answered, swooping for the golden man and his horse. The nazgûl was pleased to see the man topple over and swiftly moved in their direction.
When he drew nearer, he was surprised to see a small warrior standing between the hell hawk and its feast. The Witch-king was amused at the warrior's audacity and quickened his pace. A brave soul was one he would enjoy breaking. Er-Murazor heard the small warrior warning off his mount, "I will kill you if you touch him."
The nazgûl stood beside his hell hawk and scoffed, "Do not stand between a hell hawk and his meal. He killed it, it is his to feast upon."
The fell beast snapped at the warrior but didn't score a hit. The beast went in once again, and again, but on the fourth attempt the Witch-king watched as the soldier beheaded his mount. Er-Murazor had watched the entire byplay without interfering. His loyal mount dropped to the ground with a staggering thump. Er-Murazor placed a hand on his hell hawk and felt its life leave its body, "{Rest, my loyal one.}"
Er-Murazor took up his mace once more and rested it on his shoulder. He looked upon the small soldier standing defiantly before him. Humming in approval, "Come, if you dare. Come and meet Death."
- - - - MoD-V03 - - - -
Harry frowned as a sudden rush of doubt niggled at him, "[Er-Murazor is a nazgûl. He will not die. Not fully. If he falls, I will still need to release him. It is his connection to the ring that keeps him tied to this realm.]" The blue lightning of Minas Morgul surged for a brief moment then just as suddenly it died out. The entire area fell into an eerie dark stillness. Sauron's Eye flared in annoyance while Harry looked at the old fortress and let out a slow breath. The wizard understood the significance even if the hobbits didn't seem to. Sam and Frodo were muttering to each other and pointing. Harry looked at his mother's image in the mirror, "[Once again, you are right. Of course, you are. It is time to end this.]"
"[He will redouble his efforts. Be safe, my son.]" Galadriel signed off and Harry pocketed his mirror.
The wizard came up behind the hobbits that were still staring out of the window and put everything on the line for them. "I have two quests to accomplish. The first is to ensure you, Frodo, get to Mount Doom and destroy the ring. The second is to ensure the fall of the Dark Lord." Harry looked out across Mordor. "Sam, I appreciate everything you've done for Frodo, but time is no longer on our side."
"But-"
Harry held out a hand, "Yes, I know. You made a promise, Samwise the Brave, and as far as you were able, you have kept to that promise. Your actions are commendable. But you can't follow where we go next because we're no longer going to be walking."
Frodo looked at Harry with wide eyes, "Not the broom..."
"Yes," Harry said and looked at Frodo, "I'm sorry, but the last Ringwraith has fallen. Sauron has no one left to distract him. He will send every warrior he has searching for you."
"You're going to leave me here?" Sam asked, and he looked out over Mordor once again looking utterly deflated. "I'm never making it back to the Shire."
"Well, I could leave you at Minas Morgul until it's done, or..." Harry's words tapered off and he shook his head. "No, that's not a viable option."
"What?" Sam asked and stepped closer to the wizard. "I made a promise that I don't intend to break. 'Don't leave him, Samwise Gamgee.' And I don't intend to!"
"Transfiguration." Harry winced. "It's a bit risky..."
"Sam," Frodo moved to position himself beside his friend. "This fortress is empty. Harry can do that popping thing. When we're done, we can pop back here for you."
Waving off Frodo's words, Sam looked at Harry. "What's this risky transfer thing?"
"Well," Harry explained, "Transfiguration is when you change something into something else. I could possibly change you into something smaller that can fit into Frodo's pack, that way you could ride along with us..."
"Like an animal?"
"Like a rock..."
"A rock..." Sam repeated.
"I said it was risky," Harry reminded the hobbit.
"It wouldn't be permanent, would it?" Sam blanched at the thought.
"No, not permanent. The spell will break when I reverse it or if I die." Harry said, "I have no intention of dying before I finish my tasks. We'll keep you safe."
Sam looked away for a moment to think through his options and Frodo said a resounding, "No. I can't let you do this, Sam."
"No offense meant, Mr. Frodo, but it isn't up to you." Sam turned to Harry and gave him a small nod. "Don't drop me and forget which rock is me."
Harry grinned at Sam. "I was kidding about making you a rock." He whipped out his wand and in a flash of colorful light, an incantation, and a swish, swirl, tap of his wand later, Sam stood on all fours, small and furry. His nose twitched and he sat back on his large back feet before systematically cleaning his whiskers with his front paws.
Frodo looked down in shock. "Sam!" The hobbit scooped up the bunny and held him to his chest. "A rabbit? You made Sam into a rabbit?"
"It was either that or a ferret," Harry said and rubbed the bunny's soft, furry head. The wizard then shrunk Sam's pack and dropped it into his pocket.
Harry summoned his broom from his pouch and straddled it. "Put Sam in your pack and let's go." Frodo hesitated, sighed and followed directions. Harry gave Frodo a nod of reassurance and cast a disillusionment spell before taking to the sky. "Hold on, Frodo. We're going straight for that volcano."
They flew for Mount Doom, only hiding when the Eye of Sauron scanned the landscape in their area. The pair soared over the heads of numerous orcs that had no clue they were in the area and didn't stop until they had neared their destination. Harry came to a stop at the side of the mountain, angling so the peak of the volcano hid them from the Eye, and looked back at Frodo, "Any ideas where we're headed exactly?"
"Gandalf never said really. We only ever spoke of getting here." Frodo looked around Harry as best he could. The wizard slowly shifted the broom making it easier for the hobbit to see Mount Doom.
"We could go to the top and drop it down, I suppose." Harry pointed at the large crater at the top. "But we'd have to be quick about it since flying over the volcano would leave us fully exposed to the Eye."
"Is that bad?" Frodo asked. Harry looked at him in disbelief, but Frodo insisted, "Well the nazgûl are gone and it isn't likely the orcs could reach us up there."
Harry shuddered. "Remember when the Eye looked for you back on Amon Hen?" Frodo's eyes widened, and he nodded quickly. Harry nodded slowly along with the hobbit. "It was the vilest thing I had ever experienced. I didn't see it, but I felt it. And had it lasted any longer, I think I would have been violently ill. Not sure I could control the broom through something like that and if that happened while we're above the volcano..." The rest of the implied scenario was left unsaid, but it was clearly understood. Death, painful, burning in lava, death.
"Oh," Frodo said and gave a shudder of his own. "That would be most unpleasant. Let's avoid the Eye." The hobbit suddenly pointed near the peak of the volcano. "Is that... is there an opening? Right there?"
Harry searched where Frodo had pointed and, in the darkness, flew. The wizard hadn't seen what Frodo had pointed out but trusted the hobbit's instincts. Besides, just sitting on his broom debating wasn't doing them any good. The closer they drew to Mount Doom, the more obvious the opening on the side of the volcano became.
They flew to the mouth of the cavern and dismounted the broom. Harry dropped his broom back into his pouch and the pair looked at each other. Frodo suddenly cocked his head asking, "Mind turning Sam back into a hobbit now. I'd imagine he'd appreciate seeing this task through to the end."
Harry nodded in agreement and waited for Frodo to pull Bunny Sam out of his pack. Harry grinned as Frodo held the rabbit to his chest. "Wish I had a camera."
"A what?" Frodo asked.
"Oh, erm," Harry gave a small shrug. "Just something from my world. They make pictures, images... drawings..." When he saw recognition in Frodo's gaze, Harry continued, "Instead of having to draw things yourself, it would make it for you. Clever contraptions. Anyhow. I will show you my photo album some day. Set Sam down there if you would."
Frodo reluctantly set the rabbit down. Bunny Sam twitched his nose once again and stood on his large back feet and looked around nervously. Harry was quick with the reversal spell before the rabbit ran away in fright.
"Where..." Sam shook his head as if to clear it and looked around at where they were. "Did you do it then, Mr. Frodo?"
"No, Sam." Frodo put his hand on his friend's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You made a promise and I wanted to make sure you could keep it. So we turned you back to yourself so you could be here for the end."
When they entered what they had assumed was a cave, they soon realized it wasn't truly a cave at all. The opening into the side of the volcano was simply a platform jutting over the flowing magma. Harry had begun walking towards the end of the peninsula and warned the hobbit, "Samwise the Brave, if you fall, I'm not sure I can save you. So, do be careful."
"Stop calling me that," Sam pouted at the wizard, "and besides, I'm not that clumsy."
Frodo grinned at his friend. "Shall I name all the times you've nearly fallen off the edge of somewhere?"
"No..." Sam groused and crossed his arms over his chest, but Harry noted - with relief - the hobbit stayed clear of the edge all the same.
Harry gestured to Frodo. "You'll have to take it out of the pouch. That was made with a part of Death's cloak and I don't know if it will be destroyed by the lava. The moment the ring is out in the open, its effect will reach for you again. So before you open that, brace yourself, and remember why we're here. Remember your home, the love of family and friends, whatever happy thoughts you can hold on to. The ring doesn't want to be destroyed, so it will fight you, filling you with any doubt, fear or deep desire it can in order to trick you into keeping it safe."
Frodo looked at Harry with fear naked in his open gaze. "I don't know if I can do this."
"You're not alone, Mr. Frodo. We're here with you." Sam dared to come closer to the edge and stood by his friend's side. "We're with you."
Harry flicked his wrist and his wand snapped into his hand. "This may help. Expecto Patronum!"
His stag burst forth and - instead of the stifling heat of magma - the area filled with warmth and positive energy that the patronus exhumed. Frodo smiled at the beast and pulled Galadriel's phial from his pocket to press it to his chest. "Thank you. Both of you. I couldn't have made it on my own. I know that."
Putting the phial back in his pocket to free his hands, Frodo pulled the pouch from around his neck. He took a bracing breath, and closed his eyes. Prongs nudged Frodo with his soft nose and the hobbit smiled. Frodo opened the pouch and dropped the One Ring onto his palm. The hobbit's smile faded immediately and Frodo grimaced.
"Destroy it, Mr. Frodo!" Sam pleaded.
"Yes, Sam." Frodo looked at his friend. "I must." Frodo looked at the One, ran a loving finger over the gold and cried out with fear as he threw it into the lava.
Frodo stumbled back as if he had just dropped a heavy burden. Sam gripped his shoulders, steadying his friend. "Easy, Mr. Frodo. I've got you."
The three stood there breathing a sigh of relief for having accomplished what was thought impossible and then the ground trembled with a force that knocked the trio off their feet. Magma erupted, splashing everything within its reach with a fiery wave of liquid death.
Harry scrambled to his friends, grabbed hold of the hobbits and thought of the closest place that would be safe for them to go to and aparrated with the pair.
Timeline:
TA 3019, Mar 12 Osgiliath is overrun, only Faramir escapes back to Minas Tirith
TA 3019, Mar 13 F/H search for Sam
TA 3019, Mar 14 Battle of Pelennor Fields begins / Frodo saves Sam
TA 3019, Mar 15 Denethor dies / Théoden and army arrive at the Battle / F/S/H finally reach Mount Doom, the ring is destroyed
AN: I debated about the Witch-king's weapon of choice. The book states he uses a mace to unseat Eowyn from her horse, but he obviously uses a flail in the movie... a ridiculously HUGE flail. And really, I just couldn't see my guy using that ridiculous looking thing. So we went with the classic mace. Okay, yes it would still be quite large, but proportionately so.