Chapter Text
1. The Nine vs. the Gravewalker
The Nine came hunting. They sought to find Frodo and the Ring. Their screeches rent the night. However, Ungosse Witch-King felt another presence. The Rogue Ninth, the Ranger. Dead, cold, lifeless he walked. Gravewalker, he was dead and deathless. The curse he bore weighed him down. The dark hid him. But he stopped. Both the Gravewalker and the Witch-king waited for one another. Beside Ungosse, Khamul grew restless. He did not sense Talion. He only knew the Ring was on the move.
“My Lord, what is the delay? Why do we tarry here?”
“Peace Khamul. More is happening than you know”
Khamul fell back muttering to himself, only to stop in realization. The Gravewalker stepped out. Khamul and Helm Hammerhand hissed in wrath. The Gravewalker, Talion, simply stared back at them. His eyes burned orange; his face sat blank and emotionless. He drew his blade Urfael. It ignited with a green flame as green specters came marching to his side. The dead had come to serve the fallen Ranger.
Ungosse hissed in anger.
“Come brother, why do you resist? How long do you think you can stand? You have lasted a thousand years, but you wane.”
Talion screeched back. His eyes narrowed. He raised his blade slowly to a ready stance.
“I am not your brother. Though I wane, you yet fail. You are not my superior anymore. You are not even my equal.”
That enraged Ungosse. He screamed, charging Talion. However, Talion spoke truly. The blades of the Witch-king and Gravewalker clashed. Time and time again the two duelists collided. Every strike, Talion maneuvered the Witch-king back and back. Finally, the rest of the Nine had to join in. Ungosse and Khamul struck as one. Talion blocked Ungosse’s mace with his own hammer and deflected Khamul’s spear with Urfael. The fierce clash lasted an hour. The wraiths struck viciously at one another. But, bit by bit, Talion broke the Nine. He beat back the Nine, defeating them and casting them back to Mordor. Sauron’s servants were thwarted once more.
Eltariel showed up late. She had seen Talion’s magic flashing that morning, and she had come running from miles away. He had gotten ahead of her to attack the Nine. She had spent all day running trying to keep up with Talion. Talion had lasted long against the ring and the Nine, but Eltariel was unsure how long he could keep going. She was still amazed he had lasted as long as he had. The Nine had attacked time and time again, but somehow, Talion kept beating them back. He kept manipulating his ring to give him more time. The sorceries he had acquired were amazingly powerful.
“You made it. You beat them again.”
Eltariel was amazed. Talion was defeating the Nine almost easily now.
“Yes, I did. They fought hard, but they aren’t my equal.”
Eltariel realized the truth in that cold statement. Talion had become so powerful now. He had slain Durin’s Bane in Moria alone recently. He had also marched on Barad-dur again and ransacked much of it. She was becoming concerned about what would happen if he fell. But Eltariel swallowed and grit her teeth. She wouldn’t let him fall. He had lasted this long. The One Ring was found and moving. If she could make sure he held on a little longer, he would outlast Sauron. Maybe taking him to her lady would work. She would have to see about it. Right now she had to take care of him. Talion was exhausted and on his knees. The ring was wearing him down. Eltariel came over and put her hand on his. She lit up the Light and placed it over his ring. This always helped him. Slowly, Talion’s struggled breathing calmed. He started to calm down. He finally stopped choking and wheezing. She helped him to stand finally. Eltariel fought to hold him. His armor really made him heavy. He really needed to take it off sometimes. Bit by bit, she led him, and they pushed on out of the woods. They needed to get back to Minas Morgul.