His Queen

Chapter 60 - Alana

As they approached the towering iron gates of Mordor, Aragorn reined in his horse with a firm hand. His steely gaze was unwavering, but Alana could see the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. How could Kitra not be on his mind? The woman they all cared for and fought alongside was now trapped beyond those imposing walls, her body no longer her own. A lump formed in Alana's throat at the thought.

With a commanding voice, Aragorn called out over the hushed battlefield. "Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Let justice be done upon him!"

The air seemed to hold its breath as moments passed with no response. Then, with a deafening creak, the colossal gates began to slowly part, revealing a single figure on horseback making their way towards them. Alana's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the familiar silhouette. It couldn't be...but it was. Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief at the sight of their beloved friend.

It was Kitra.

But it wasn't truly her.

The woman who approached wore Kitra's face, but her eyes were cold and lifeless, devoid of the warmth and love that Alana had come to know. Her armor gleamed with an eerie blackness, reflecting the darkness that seemed to emanate from within her. There was a twisted aura surrounding her, something malevolent and powerful in the way she carried herself. This was not Kitra. This was Sauron's doing.

As she drew closer, Alana could see the subtle changes in Kitra's features - a hardening of her jawline, a sinister glint in her eyes. It was as if someone else entirely inhabited her body. The voice that came from Kitra's lips was no longer hers, but instead it was Sauron's cruel and calculating tone that made Alana's blood run cold. Even Aragorn, renowned for his strength and bravery, paled at the sound of it. Alana felt a surge of protectiveness towards her friend - her cousin - seeing her being used in such a vile manner.

Images of the kind, caring Kitra flashed through Alana's mind, only serving to make the sight before her all the more sickening. She couldn't bear to see this mockery of the woman Kitra truly was. Her fists clenched at her sides as she fought against the overwhelming urge to scream and lash out. She knew she had to stay calm and focused, but every fiber of her being wanted to rush forward and rip Kitra free from Sauron's grasp.

Gandalf, though burdened by grief, stood tall and composed as ever. His voice rang out with a firmness that belied the sorrow in his eyes. "We do not come to treat with you, Sauron. Your armies must disband and leave these lands forever."

Sauron, speaking through Kitra's body, let out a wicked smile, filled with malice and cruelty. He raised Kitra's hand and presented Frodo's mithril shirt, a twisted trophy of his victory. Alana heard Pippin gasp behind her, his anguish palpable in the sound of his voice. "Frodo!"

Alana's heart constricted at the sight of the small, glimmering shirt. Her mind raced, wondering if this was all that remained of their brave little friend. The weight of the moment was almost too much to bear.

Sauron's voice echoed through the chamber, taunting and cruel. It seemed to come from all directions at once, a weapon meant to pierce their hearts. But this time, it carried a familiar tone - Kitra's voice. "The Halfling was dear to thee, I see," Sauron sneered. His words dripped with malice and satisfaction. "Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would have thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he did, Gandalf, he did." The sound of Sauron's laughter rang out, chilling and triumphant, as if relishing in the suffering he had caused. Gandalf and his companions could feel the weight of Frodo's agony in every word, and a sense of helplessness washed over them.

A shadow passed over Gandalf's face, his eyes darkening with grief. Alana's heart clenched at the sight of such sorrow etched into the lines of his weathered features. She could feel the weight of their losses hanging over them all like a heavy shroud. Aragorn's gaze remained fixated on Kitra, never wavering even as he took in the devastation around them. He was searching, desperately hoping and praying that somewhere deep within her, some part of Kitra still remained free from Sauron's grasp. As he gazed upon her still form, his eyes glittered with determination and a flicker of hope.