➤𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘒 2
➤𝘈𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 É𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘳
60 years have passed and Sauron is coming back more powerful than he has ever been, you are known as Lady (Y/N) of Lothlórien and Messenger of the Valar, the most powerful being in Mi...
The next morning, Aragorn leads an army from Minas Tirith towards Mordor. Our friends and family ride with him, Pippin rides with Gandalf and Merry with Éomer, while Acay and Ágo were together and Adán, Haco, Gabi and I had our horses like the others.
"In sorrow we must go, but not in despair. We are not bound forever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory." I muttered, my cousins and I stood next to Gandalf, our tattoos and eyes shining slightly as we prepared our magic in case there was war. In no more than a couple of hours, we come within sight of the Black Gate, our last destination. My last destination.
While our army stands behind us, we stood in front of the Black Gate, which appears to be deserted. "Where are they...?" Murmurs Pippin. Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Let justice be done upon him!" Nothing but silence engulfs the large area, until the gate opens, finally. A single rider appears upon a dark horse, the only part of the rider appearing, besides a full helmet and armor, is a grotesque mouth, which Ágo grimaced too.
"My master, Sauron the Great, bids you welcome. Is there any in this route with the authority to treat with me?" He asks as we stayed silent, the impressive appearance of the rider made us all gross out. "We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed. Tell your master this: The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return." Says Gandalf.
"Old Greybeard. I have a token I was bidden to show thee." He holds up Frodo's Mithril shirt, and I parted my mouth, feeling my throat dry. "Frodo..." I whispered. The Mouth Of Sauron throws the Mithrill shirt to me, and I catch it with tearful eyes. "Frodo!" Pippin shouts as he turns to look at the shirt in my hands. "Silence." Gandalf says.
"No!" Merry yells in sadness and Gandalf turns to him. "Silence!"
"The halfling was dear to thee, I see. Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would've thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he did, Gandalf. He did..." I clenched the shirt of Mithrill in my arms as tears ran down my cheeks, Éomer and my cousins came to my side as the riders laughs wickedly, Aragorn rides casually around to his side
"And who is this? Isildur's heir? It takes more to make a king than a broken Elvish blade." With a quick, hard, slice, Aragorn cuts the Mouth of Sauron's head with his sword. Acay gasps as he looks at the head on the ground and Haco closed his eyes not to see such a scene.
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Aragorn turns to us with furrowed eyebrows. "I do not believe it..!" I glanced back at the king, whose eyes were directed at mine. "I will not."
The shadows from Mordor are increasing, his power is getting higher, he is looking for something. The Black Gate again creaks and sways open, revealing an army of marching orcs. Barad-dûr looms in the background, its Eye now staring at us, my eyes widened at the eye of Sauron on us, or maybe more obviously, at me.
"Pull back! Pull back!" Aragorn screams and we follow him back to the army of men, but Adán's voice stops me and the rest of my cousins. "Guys look! It's her! The ice woman!" We looked up to look upon an ice figure covered by shadows flying towards Sauron's dark tower.
