Pain followed me the next few weeks. Throbs and aches and stabbing pains. Ribs screaming at my every breath, eyes swollen almost shut. Thighs that burned from sitting on a warg. Dried blood in my hair, pulling at those strands whenever I tried clearing it.

Glaring sun beat down on me, then the moon's light. Rarely did we rest. Rarely did we stop for more than five hours. I relearned through the painful haze that orcs did not need sleep, well, the same sleep humans need. Like elves.

And then there was the fact that food did not come as often as it needed to come. Already my stomach had eaten itself twice over and my lips were parched to the point of pealing. Moving them in any expression caused them to crack and bleed.

I wanted to reach up and hold onto Mir El, to find comfort in Legolas' Mother's jewel. But my wrists were bound and moving them only made the ropes and chains dig deeper into my raw skin.

Everything seemed to happen through a haze, like a blurry curtain was hung over the journey, making it hard to focus. Between the times I blacked out, I rode hunched and swaying over a pungent warg. The ropes chafed my skin, the chains pinched and clanged into a sound I would always hear. New blood trickled and oozed slowly over the dried, crumbly red gore on my wrists, the ropes digging deeper into my skin with every movement. The commander was true to his word though; Gorthaden and Father's long dagger stayed by my side. Too bad I hadn't decided to sleep with my Thrandies on—they're with Legolas now. In good hands.

During my moment of lucidity, I'd pear blearily through squinted eyes. Everything was too bright. Everything. And every moment was filled with an awful ringing. Yet, over the periods of time, these things began to go away. My ribs began to go from screeching pain to a persistent ache. The blood remained. No rain appeared to shower it away.

One fateful day, a few before we arrived at our destination, 'my' warg rode up beside the commander atop his large horse. During the entire journey, he had been mostly quiet, choosing to ride alone either at the front or back. He did not boast or sneer or jab taunts my way. If anything, he'd insult the orcs. But that was only when they were annoying him. It seemed as if they even disgusted him. The commander seemed very... solemn. But there was a fire burning just underneath. I could see it whenever we did rest, see it in his gaze as he looked out over the landscape. Sometimes that fiery gaze was directed at me.

I had a sneaking suspicion I needed to quiet. Although it filled me with both fear and curiosity.

Weakly, hoarsely, I asked the question. "Who are you?"

As I had kept my eyes fixed on my bloody bound wrists, I felt his gaze on me. Although wargs were about as tall as a man's shoulder, his horse was much taller.

"I am Alagosson."

I closed my eyes.

*********

Mordor was cold.

It was a cold, dry wind that gusted my tangled hair from my face as I awoke from the unconsciousness forced on me. Head aching, I gazed up at the high mountains around me, now easier to do so since the swelling around my eyes had gone down. The dark mountains swelled towards the clouds, rocks abundant while anything resembling green was sparse. I felt walled in, mountains blocking everything behind us and in front... vast nothingness. Empty, all except for some ash floating on a breeze and the most common dust. Dust instead of soil. It was a wonder that anyone could live in this desolate wasteland at all.

As time went on, a few things became apparent. The orcs grew more laxed, more prideful, while Alagosson grew tenser. Orcs took pride in their wasteland but Alagosson... did not feel at home.

Before long, we passed a small encampment but as we passed I saw a large sunken entrance in the ground. I recalled something that I had once read.

                'The race of orc despises the sun's light and its very beauty. Therefore, the crafty race developed tunnel-making tools for living away from the light, becoming almost insect-like in nature.'

Horrified, I realized some hundreds of orcs were probably just beneath my feet.

We passed many more 'orc holes' on our way to undoubtedly Sauron. Mordor seemed to come alive as we went in deeper. Vast, giant mines we like firey abysses in the ground, noises of metal on metal, yells, mining, every chaotic sound escaping from the ground as they found their way up.

And there were orcs. Lots of other orcs as we made it deeper into Sauron's territory. It seemed the light did not keep them completely away. There were so many of them that at times I felt like I was swimming in a sea of them, the horizon so full with their heads. And trolls. I saw multiple of them throughout the night. Those dimwitted creatures were helping the orcs, carrying heavy carts of metals and following where an orc pointed. There were some though, that had metal helmets on, a spiked mace in hand.

Even trolls were preparing for battle.

I could barely breathe as I took in what surrounded me. Hundreds of thousands of orcs, all battle ready. Indeed, I saw barracks that housed not orcs, but supplies. Armories filled to the brim with weapons and armor. Even training circles where orcs gruesomely battled, a ring of onlookers cheering on.

Seeing this, seeing how much prepared for battle—war—they were, all the supplies and the strength Sauron had, I felt doomed. The final battle in this War is just around the corner and we're horribly outnumbered. And Sauron's forces have been ready for this war for much longer than the kingdoms of the west.

*********

I had trouble breathing.

A tower so dark and so tall loomed above as I was forced off the warg. It stood strong, adamant, and seemed to be made out of obsidian. Like another tower. With cells underneath its floors and a wizard who had too many knives and screams and torments and—and—

                Breathe. Breathe.

This tower was different, though. It was bigger, much, much bigger. The base was like a city, while the tower rose so high the top seemed to disappear into the sky. The books were right. Barad dur is the biggest fortress in all of Middle-Earth. All of this massive creation held together by the power of the ring... if the ring were just dropped into that volcano just over there... this whole thing would come crashing down.

And that volcano was extremely close. Rivers of molten lava streamed by, so hot I was past sweating.

The dark, ominous doors seemed to swallow us as we entered, bathing us in dim candlelight and echoing noises of scraping and grunts and shuffling feet.

"Gather her weapons and take her to the cells—don't harm her. Put her in the cell next to the insolent elleth." Alagosson said the words as he walked away from us, flinging the commands over his shoulder as his shoulder-length raven hair shifted and glinted under the light of dancing little flames.

"No," I whimpered, the word escaping my lips without me realizing it. "Please."

Alagosson continued walking away, leaving my panic to rise further as I jerked in the orcs' grasps. As the orcs took Gorthaden and father's dagger, I delved in me for that power, but like my courage, it too had fled.

"No," I panted, yanking my elbow to no avail. "Anywhere but there. Anywhere but—"

"Cease your yammering, girl!"

But I was breathing in gasps, whimpering as they dragged my unmoving feet. We moved down halls and halls and halls and down stairs and stairs and stairs and yet all my mind could do was overlay Orthanc onto these similar walls. I squeezed my eyes shut, yet all that did was drag me deeper into Orthanc.

And then I was thrown, hitting the cold, cold concrete hard. I scrambled to the bars, threw myself on the door just as it was closed, then locked with a clang before my eyes.

"No!" I wailed, already feeling the walls closing in on me, every inch taken any bit of hope I had left. Vanishing with every second. Finally, I hooked onto some of that light within me and flung it out. But it was weak and shaky. It only rattled the rusted bars.

                Stop, you brought this upon yourself. You knew this would happen.

Shaking and trembling and feeling like at any moment I'd barf up my stomach, I sat down, arms around myself. I couldn't move further into the cell, where a concrete wall sat, so I leaned against the bars, breathing in the stuffy air from in between them.

Carefully, I fished out the necklace that hung around my neck. I held the jewel in my hands, trying to draw comfort from it. Thinking of Legolas.

"I've heard of you," said a hoarse voice, coming from a cell that flickered with the same light from the three torches all these cells shared.

I jumped, eyes glancing over at a scraggly elleth huddled in the farthest corner of her cell, which happened to be a concrete wall and bars. The last cell in the row was right by hers—it was empty.

I wondered what kind of torment they had given her—she was bruised, her red hair cut short to brush her chin, her clothing tattered, blood trickled from her brow. Not much blood, but a lot of dirt. No doubt she was pale from lack of sunlight, but it was hard to tell through all the grim—hard to tell through all the bruises.

"They talk about you," she made her voice soft, almost a murmur, yet there was a strong steel behind them. "They hate you."

"They have a reason too," I replied, equal softness and steel in my voice.

"Hey," the elleth said, perking up swiftly and crawling over to the bars that both our cells shared. "Hey. You can escape, take me with you—" her dirty fingers wrapped around the bars "—I'll give you half of my day's portion, even some of my water if you want it. Just take me with you."

I shook my head, clenching my hands into the fabric of my trousers. "I'm not here to escape."

"But—"

"My days are over. I'm sorry." My days of joy, my days of being free, my days with Legolas. I held my head in my hands.

This was my end.

My chosen fate.

*********

I was retrieved hours later by a servant of Sauron. Along with a handful of orcs who had grabbed me roughly.

They... had taken me to a room I never wanted to recall. There, I learned I was right about one thing back in Rohan;

Sauron wanted to know everything I knew.

**********

The wooden door inset with iron opened none too quietly a couple days later. A gang of orcs, brown and black and green, piled into the dungeon. All wielded bludgeons, adorning themselves with sneers. I cringed, but immediately bit my lip and straightened myself.

"Our master wants to see you," one derided.

"Wants us to bring you to 'im," another jibbed, voice nasally.

I didn't object like I knew they wanted me to. Already having accepted this, I stood before the door, waiting for them to haul me away.

They did so, roughly, making my already hurting body hurt more. Their grimy hands took me by the arms, pulling me through the hallways and up steep stairs. One even gathered my hair in his hands, laughing, pretending to be directing a horse by yanking the strands this way and that.

I bit my tongue, just trying to breathe through it all.

Finally, after much cleverly and hurtfully crafted remarks were made in my direction, a pair of armored and clean orcs opened up a pair of black, tall doors. Those doors groaned vehemently, swinging wide towards us. A small gust blew a stray strand from my face.

The orcs violently pushed me forward—and my blood chilled.

I recognized this place.

That shinning dark floor, the mighty throne atop those step, a roaring fire that did nothing for the chill.

Sauron's throne room—the one I had visited when he inflicted himself upon my mind. Where he had broken my arm and pushed his fingers into my flesh.

My eyes went to the spot on the gleaming, polished floor. There was no blood. Nothing that told the tale of his violence. Just a clean, glittering black surface.

But then my eyes snagged on the figure sitting on that throne; legs open wide as an elbow was propped up on the arm. No beautiful, fiery hair, no glowing eyes to be seen. Only armor made of metal, glinting and reflecting the fire's light.

The orcs unceremoniously dumped me before that high throne, my aching joints aching more. Gasping, I caught myself with my hands, wounds that had scabbed over on my wrists now breaking open. Panting through the pain, I let my hair curtain around me as I prepared myself. But what to prepare for? Torture? No one could prepare for that. I couldn't endure anymore. Not so soon.

Weakly, I got to my feet.

A wave of heat smashed into me, hotter than any fire. And it was coming from him, Sauron.

On his throne, the Dark Lord gave out enough heat to melt armor. It was a surprise that all that metal on him didn't just slosh off.

"Call it forth."

I stumbled back at his voice, the words booming and omnipresent, filling every space. Filling my entire mind. My legs threatened to buckle, my nape began to sweat.

"What?" I whispered, the word being formed more out of fear and surprise rather than confusion.

Suddenly, a horrific servant spoke up from beside the Dark Lord. A helm covered his head, his eyes and nose. All except for his mouth. And as he spoke, cracks around his mouth opened and morphed, as if his mouth had been forced open too wide, his lips stretched by unimaginable torture.

"The darkness, you simpleton," he said, voice too deep and hoarse to be natural. "Your master bids you call it forth for his eyes to see."

"Oh," I stumbled, blinking. "Oh."

Gulping, I looked down at my bleeding hands, tan and raw, using my fear to let that dark snake come forth. It did so easily, too easily. The darkness slipped out of me like sand through fingers, pooling around my fingers and arms in a darkness that engulfed all light.

Sauron's armored fingers waved towards the side door, a signal I couldn't comprehend.

A lamb, small and woolly, bleated in confused shrieks as it stumbled into the throne room, looking around for perhaps its mother. It stumbled over its own small hooves, moving away from Sauron in fear. Even animals could sense his evil.

My gaze went back to Sauron. Why bring in a lamb?

He shifted in his chair, getting into a more comfortable position. Actually, he seemed to lean forward. "Kill it, child. Use only the darkness I have given you."

The darkness around my wrists danced gracefully as I stared at that innocent lamb. It bleated, then started its way over to me as it saw my stare.

No, go away, I pleaded as I rose my evil-covered hands. Tears began running down my face as I took in the ewe, the animal I'd have to slaughter by locking it in the dark. The black whorls danced faster and faster with every second of anticipation. But I didn't come here to rebel, I came to follow Sauron's orders. To fulfill a bargain.

Kill it, I commanded of the shadows. They reached out, gliding through air as the edges dissipated like smoke, curling upon themselves. It did so tentatively at first, surprised at what I wanted it to do. Then, eagerly, it rushed in to strike, moving like a spear.

The darkness exploded into a cloud, surrounding the lamb in the blink of an eye. The baby lamb started bleating in panic—and the black cloud started to jerk as it tried to contain the animal's attempt to escape.

All breath stopped in my lungs as I watched—heard what my darkness was doing to the lamb. My heart was screaming at me to close my eyes, to take away the living void surround the lamb—yet my mind said I brought this fate upon myself, that I had joined Sauron so I might as well go through with it.

The lamb shrieked as the darkness enclosed in on it, the darkness falling to the floor as it drug down the lamb.

My resolve caved—I called for it to come back, just like how I rein in my light.

But the darkness didn't come.

It continued devouring the lamb, no matter how much I pulled for it to stop.

And then the darkness pulled away, revealing a corpse. The eyes were... empty, gray. Its fur had deflated, the ribs sunken in along with practically every other area, its tongue limp on the black floor. The life had been sucked out of it.

I sunk to my knees, horrified. The darkness slunk across the floor, returning to me. It looked as if it was wagging a tail. As it ran up my fingers, then arms coldly, and then sank into my skin, I could feel just how joyful and pleased this other entity was. I could feel the life energy it had just taken, running like electricity under my skin.

"Feels like flying, does it not?"

That was the thing—it did. It felt good. Like I was reenergized.

Oh, Valar, what's wrong with me? I bit my tongue until it hurt, staring at my dirt-encrusted fingernails. That dark thing still ran underneath my skin, ecstatic at taking a life.

Anger bloomed in my chest, as quickly as an explosion. An anger so deep and hot that maybe it was hate. I shot to my feet, my limbs burning with rage.

"You did this!" I shouted at Sauron, taking a step toward his throne despite the heat. "You cast this curse upon me! Blighted me with this darkness!"

Sauron mused, tapping his fingers in a rhythm along the arm of his over glorified chair. "Yes. I did it the moment I knew you were the One, only a few months after you were conceived. I cast an essence of my being upon you, tainting the core of the many elements in your soul."

"Wickedness comes with a price, yet I never expected it to be your immortality."

I stumbled back, anger dissipating as quickly as morning mist under the noon's heat. He kept going, either not seeing or caring that I was stunned.

The Dark Lord shrugged, his metal armor creaking. "That, though, may turn out to be more a blessing than a curse—" he leveled his gaze upon me "—you, my dear, are becoming a problem. That may not be much of an issue in the near future, to your expected dismay."

"I—" My hand went to my throat. So my mortality, my reason for being human, was him, not an unexpected side effect of my power. Nor a curse granted by Eru or a trick played by the Valar.

He's the reason for my life being mortal. The reason why I can't live into eternity with Legolas.

I leveled my hardened gaze upon Sauron, teeth gritted, hands fisted at my sides—

"Ah, no temper tantrums, dearie. I have a gift for you, one you cannot refuse." He laughed sardonically.

Orcs grabbed me just as that fire in me exploded. Orc arms dragged me away, yet I screamed. I screamed all my rage that had built up over the years at him. Screamed as I delved in me for that energy of stars and flung it out—yet in this room I couldn't, not while that darkness runs rampant under my skin. So I screamed, not realizing salty drops were rolling angrily down my cheeks, jumping off my chin, as I flung phantom blasts towards the evil figure sitting upon a throne he shouldn't have.

And then those giant heavy doors closed in my face—and I went limp in the orcs' hold. Heaving for breath, coldness settled over me.

Mortal... all because of Sauron. All because of that darkness planted within me.

Half of me wanted to curl up in a ball, half of me wanted to laugh. Instead, I stared at the path we left behind. That cold, cold floor that many orcs had walked on.

Legolas. How will he react when he finds out? Will people not want me saving them when they learn I have part of Sauron's spirit in me? Oh no, I hope it doesn't effect Galadriel and Celeborn—

Stop it, you idiot. I'm never getting out of here to tell anyone. I came here to fulfill my bargain, Sauron's never getting rid of me. Unless the hobbits destroy the Ring—

I stomped on that wriggling piece of hope, crushed it until it was shattered. Even if they were to destroy the Ring, I'd be killed when Barad Dur comes crashing down on top of me. I'm stuck here forever, controlling uur rauko to my very end. I'll have the deaths of many on my hands, their blood and family's anger covering me entirely. And all that killing will be starting soon. That battle of war I saw in Rohan... it's near. I can feel it.

After my arms went numb and my legs no longer felt the pain of banging down steps and dragging over floors, doors opened and I felt the outside sulfuric breeze pass over me.

Where to next? Throwing me into lava and watching me as I writhe?

I closed my eyes, not only to the too bright sun covered by an ashy haze, but to my thoughts. To the world. I was too weary, too tired of pain. Let my end come already so I don't have to wait in suspense and agony until then.

The noises of busy orcs and heavy footfalls of trolls became louder as we passed, on our way to a destination unknown. Until building heat and noises of wargs made my eyes open.

Twisting and struggling, I managed to turn around in their grasps—only after I said I would make their jobs easier by walking. And then my eyes widened.

Somehow, Sauron and that gruesome servant of his had made it to our destination before us. Just behind them, in the direction they were facing... a large pit carved out of the ground—but I knew it wasn't a mine. Glows of red and orange flickered on the walls, yet I couldn't see the light source from the bottom. Growling of wargs emanated from those depths and a singular ladder hung from the opposite side.

Sauron, either hearing or sensing our approach, turned around.

"Lumornel, I must say, my goal when I placed part of my essence within you was to limit your power. While it did that, it also took something from me. A mistake on my part."

Sauron turned back to the glowing pit. "The part of me that resides in you, it was the only piece of me that could control the uur rauko. And while it pains me greatly to say so, that is the reason why I need you."

Clenching my teeth so hard I thought they'd crack, I looked anywhere but at him, for fear that I'd shriek or spit at him. That part of me that always wanted to shrink away from him was now replaced with burning rage. He cost me all this pain. He cost me my future with Legolas.

"Needless to say, allow me to show you where you'll be staying. No worries, the accommodations are all on me."

The orcs pushed me forward while I struggled—closer to the edge of the pit—

And I saw not wargs but hundreds upon hundreds of uur rauko, snarling and snapping and growling. It was the glow from their flaming tongues that I had been seeing. That was illuminating my feet then.

And wide-eyed, I was pushed over the edge. Towards the jaws of uur rauko.

*********

"But who knows what she spoke to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all her life seemed shrinking, and the walls of her bower closing in about her,"

—Aragorn, Return of the King

So writing this... I realized that the way I portray Sauron (the way he talks) is similar to my original character Zephrys. Except Zephrys isn't evil. He's got issues but he's not evil. He hopes. Which proves he's not evil, although he does act wicked sometimes. Actually a lot of the times. He's the kind of 'hero' that doesn't mind if people get hurt on his way to doing something. Like if he was stuck somewhere with people and a dog and there was no food and no way to get food, he'd cook the dog. Then not tell anybody until they had already eaten the dog.

Yeah, Zephrys is... yeah... BUT I LOVE HIM. Out of all my original characters, he's the most dear to me. (He's in Dark Days if you wanna go check it out...)

Anyways... not very many chapters left.... this'll definitely be finished by the beginning of August. Ahhhhhh.

Thank you for reading, mellon nîn.

Novaer, mellyn
~awatin~