His Queen

Chapter 59 - Kitra

She had spent days locked away in her own mind as Sauron made preparations with the Nazgul and his Orc generals. They were preparing to March on Minas Tirith one last time. Kitra watched helplessly through her own eyes as Sauron moved her body like a marionette, issuing commands in a twisted mockery of her own voice. Each time she tried to wrest back control, to move so much as a finger of her own accord, searing agony ripped through her very essence. Sauron's dark presence engulfed her, drowning out all else.

"Your fight is futile." his voice hissed in her mind, cold and pitiless. "This body is mine now."

Kitra wanted to scream defiance back at him, but she was voiceless, powerless. Even as Sauron plotted the destruction of all she held dear, he took sadistic glee in punishing her resistance. White-hot pain lanced along her nerves as Sauron tightened his grip on her mind, squeezing until stars exploded behind her eyes. Kitra felt like she was being flayed alive, stripped down to raw nerves. But still she struggled against his inexorable will, beating herself bloody against the walls of her mental prison.

"Why do you persist in this pointless defiance?" Sauron's voice was a silken purr in her head, underscored by cruel amusement. "You only bring more suffering upon yourself."

Kitra would have wept if she still had control over her own tears. Instead, she could only endure in silent anguish as Sauron used her body to orchestrate doom for Middle Earth. He made her lips smile as legions of orcs and trolls gathered before the Black Gate, awaiting his command to sweep across Gondor.

Kitra retreated deep within herself, trying to block out the horror of what her body was being made to do. But there was no escape from Sauron's violation of her mind and flesh. Even in the furthest reaches of her consciousness, she could feel the Dark Lord's icy presence, tainting her every thought.

An orc approached them with a look of glee in his eyes.

"My Lord we have captured the halfling that carries the Ring." The Orc reported. Sauron turned Kitra's head sharply at the orc's words, a surge of dark triumph rushing through him. Through the haze of pain and despair, Kitra felt a sickening lurch of dread. Sauron's malevolent will bore down on her mind with renewed intensity, twisting like a knife in an open wound.

"Bring him to me," Sauron commanded, Kitra's voice issuing from her throat without her volition. "And ready the armies to march. The final victory is at hand." Sauron surged after the orc as it scurried away towards where Frodo was. "You will watch as I tear him limb from limb."

Sauron dragged Kitra's unwilling body through the dark corridors of Barad-dûr, each step sending fresh waves of agony through her battered mind. She could sense his eagerness, his hunger to finally possess the One Ring once more. It pulsed through their shared connection like a poisonous tide.

They emerged into a cavernous hall, lit by the hellish glow of sputtering torches. In the center, a small figure lay crumpled on the stone floor, surrounded by a ring of leering orcs. Frodo. Kitra's heart clenched at the sight of the brave hobbit, beaten and bloodied but still defiant. Sauron's cruel laughter echoed in her head.

As Sauron approached in Kitra's body, his words twisted and distorted through her lips. "Behold, the mighty Ringbearer," he sneered through gritted teeth. "Brought low before the Lord."

Frodo raised his head weakly, struggling to focus through the haze of pain. His blue eyes widened in shock as he saw Kitra's body being used by the Dark Lord.

"Kitra?" Frodo croaked, disbelief evident in his voice.

But Sauron only laughed cruelly. "She's not here, little halfling," he taunted. The once-familiar face contorted into a sinister mask, and Frodo could feel the evil emanating from it.