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Disclaimer: I dont own anything. I dont even own my sanity while writing this, was bout 12pm XD
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" I have a trinket I was ordered to present to thee.."
With these words, my heart stopped. I knew not why, but I felt colder than ever, For a moment,
I felt the tears of the Lady Nienna on the edges of my eyelash when I took in the sparkling
Mithril shirt that I had, in my heart, praised for saving one very precious to me. But it wasn't
her worried tears of farewell...it was my own set of tears ready to spill out unto my wind
beaten cheeks. I held myself aloft atop Shadofax and slowly shook my head. I could not lose
face before Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and the now weeping Pippin.
But damn it all, I wanted to cry.
It is not within the nature of a Maiar to weep. We are duty-centered beings, ever young as
if of the first-born Vanyar. My own face is truly smooth, framed by bright blonde hair and ears
such as an Elf posses. But now I am old as any mortal man, and I reel with the pain of the
sword driven through me to my heart. The quest has failed, my hope had died. My dear,
beloved Frodo...
I was right, I sent him to death.
The cruel laugh of the Mouth of Sauron brings me back to myself. Flames lick my heart
to hear happiness from this twisted man, when Frodo is gone. Did I not say I would stand
with him as long as the Ring was his burden to bear? What a liar I have become. Oh how
Nienna will weep at my fallen heart!
" I see he was much loved by thee.."
THERE is the understatement of the Third Age. My sight grows misty with the rising
tears. I can see in my mind a little Hobbit peeking out from behind Bilbo in the gardens
of Bag End, putting one small hand out to shake mine. His smile is golden, I assure
you. Then a laugh like a bell, followed by three others. He is gone into darkness the
next second...
" You're late." He had said. Oh, If only I'd never returned! My head bowed in defeat.
" Who knew one so small could endure so much pain.."
I can picture that scene, as only one filled with guilt can. He doesn't cry out till the
rack is used. He can feel my lifeforce somehow, now more than ever. And he calls
for me, I'm sure of it in my ghastly nightmare. He screams my lies........and then he
is left to rot somewhere in the cold, yet flaming mountains around Barad Dur. I am
......
" LIES!!!!!!!!!" Reality consumes me once more. Aragorn is white-faced with a new and
terrible fury such as I've never seen on his face. There are tears there, too, but ones of
anger. The power of a King of Gondor reaches my guilt-ridden heart, his eyes stay on
my face until I truly refuse the anguished wetness in my eyes.
" I shall not believe lies!" The Mouth laughs in his face.
Then Aragorn separates his head from his body.
And I smile.
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No idea why I ended it like that...but I hope you enjoyed!