Notes : this is an alternate universe where the three elven rings are still on middle earth. Some character like Nienor and Farewell and many others are made up. I hope you enjoy this story. I started it when I was still in highschool so sometimes it does not make sens, sorry. Also, English is my second language, forgive my mistakes if you find them.

Chapter 1 From the beginning…

Darken looked up, Farewell, his adviser was listing the last news freshly reported by his spies: nothing was happening, as always. Lord Rhal sighed, rose from his seat and reached the balcony without even pretending to listen.

In front of him, the sea landscape stretched far towards the horizon, the calm here also bothered him. There was nothing going on. He turned his head to the other side and saw the green plains, forests and mountains in the distance. There, too, everything was still, frozen. A deep silence, the world was asleep and Darken smiled at the thought of being the one who was going to wake it up.

'Lord Darken?' said Farewell, trying as much as possible to hide his annoyance.

'Where's Nienor?' Darken replied after a moment.

Farewell sighed, passed his hand through his long blond hair, and approached his master. 'I don't know, I'm not her guardian. Darken, concerning the war…'

'I've changed my mind, Farewell. I'm not going to declare war on them right now.' He snorted as if he were mocking his own strategies. 'I'm not going to walk on their land, declare war on them. No, I want something more like me. Don't frown, Farewell, listen: I want them to remember me as the one who tore Middle Earth apart. I want my name in their mouth to be bitter. I want to confuse them with their own wisdom, their own strategies. We'll do it my way.'

Farewell saw his master's eyes light up with a phosphoric glow and he shuddered.

'I'm listening to you.'

'I want you to bring Nienor first.'

'But,' Farewell protested but Darken's dark gaze dissuaded him from continuing. He stiffened and nodded. 'Yes, Lord Darken.'

'Go, now.'

Farewell turned around, picked up the scrolls he had left on the table, and went out. Quietly, Darken leaned against the balcony and meditated on the new plan that was emerging in his mind. He did not want to strike them but, slowly and patiently, tear them apart and like a disease: to gnaw them from within. To do so, he had to be patient, he had to be clever, and he had to trust the woman he despised the most: his own wife, Nienor. She was going to be the key part of his plan, she was going to be the knife hidden under a cloak, ready to be brandished and thrust in the back. He ponders every detail of his plan, calculating every possible outcome, every detour. Yes, for his plan to succeed, he had to have the unwavering loyalty of his wife. He was going to finish what others before him had already started. But this time, he would go all the way to the end. He will not fail because he will never let down his guard, he will be ready, at every corner, at every turn, he will be ready to answer, to fight, and he will win. He will be more patient, smarter, stronger and will not fail where others had failed miserably. Suddenly he heard knocking at the door, the doors opened heavily and footsteps approached behind his back.

'Lord Darken? Your wife, Lady Nienor, is here!' Announced Farewell in a theatrical tone.

Nienor was dressed in a red gown, with gold pearls adorning her waist. Her hair was secured in a heavy bun, and wavy locks cascaded down her neck and in front of her pale face. She didn't look at him but stared at the ground with that fear that wouldn't abandoned her, not even to sleep at night. He approached her and put a kiss on her cheek and caressed her skin to reassure her. He didn't mean to hurt her. He never laid a hand on her and he never would.

'Nienor, angel, I have a mission for you. Do I have your support, your entire support?'

'My Lord, of course you do,' she said, raising her eyes to look at him in order to give more credit to her words.

'I've been thinking about it, and I think it's time to use your potential. You like to travel, don't you? Yes, I remember that time you told me that you would love to discover the North. So here's the perfect opportunity. Don't look like that, smile, you'll see that you'll like it. You'll go to Rivendell, the last Elven home in the West, beyond the Misty Mountains, to the home of Lord Elrond Peredhel…'

Nienor listened without asking any questions, without showing fear and anxiety. Her mind was busy thinking of the future that inevitably stood before them: war. For several years she had heard nothing but echoes of Darken's plans, ideas of the extent of his madness. Now she saw it and the war was there. It was only a matter of days, perhaps months, before the threat was revealed to the world and then the people would bury the time of peace.

'I will show you where to go, you will get lost there, and Elrond will find you. He'll take you home. You'll have to play the damsel in distress. Yes, he cannot let you wander alone and defenseless, his house is a refuge for anyone who asks for it. So they will take you home, offer you shelter, and there your mission is simple and everything depends on you.'

Darken savored the suspense, relishing the moment as both Farewell and Nienor were hung on his every words. Farewell gazed at him while Nienor was staring at the abyss. Darken turned slowly towards the landscape and took a deep breath, as if to give himself time to prepare for what followed.

'Bring me his ring. Do what you want but you have to earn his trust. I want it. Once I have it, nothing will stop me from destroying it, and I will be strong enough to face the others. Once I have it, it'll be easy to eliminate him and his house. An enemy less…Retrieving the other two elven rings will be: child's play.'

As Darken exposed the lines of his design, Farewell's face lit up. His thoughts were filled with wonderful ideas for the future days that laid before them.

'What do you say, Nienor? Are you ready to take on such a responsibility?'

She didn't say anything, she knew Darken didn't need an answer, that it was just a rhetorical question. Farewell was the one who answered for her, expressing all his impatience and enthusiasm for this ''fabulous'' idea. Then, he left them to get the things ready.

Darken and Nienor were now alone on the balcony.

'What do you say, Nienor? Do I have your loyalty?' he inquired.

'What loyalty do you speak of, Lord Rhal? How am I supposed to get his thrust?'

'Don't play that game, Nienor. You know exactly what I mean. Should the idea of escaping cross your mind, or worse, the thought of devulging everything to that half-elf and betraying me comes to your mind... You know the concequences.' He whispered, his finger gently touching her necklace. 'You'd leave me no choice. If there's one thing I hate more than anything, it's betrayal. We always end up paying the price, one way or another, don't we?'

For the first time since she entered, her composure faltered, allowing the traces of fear to surface. Her lips contorted, attempting to restrain tears as she nodded, her gaze rising to the man before her. Horror etched her face as she stared at him. Darken's presence sent shivers down her spine; his monstrosity wasn't on his face but within his soul. Those piercing blue eyes fixated on her, his dark hair impeccably styled. As always, he was clad in white. But his soul was dark.

'You have my loyalty.'

'I know that," he whispered as he put a kiss on her forehead. 'I know.'

He drew her into an embrace, and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. A scent of vanilla wafted through the air as he closed his eyes. She surrendered, unable restrain her tears. His eyes fixed on the horizon, he whispered softly in her ear ''I love you, Nienor''.