The Return of the Dark Lord

A Change for the Worse

"They don't look like Orcs," One of the Orcs said. The leader glared at the one who had spoken. 

"They don't look like Orcs." The leader's tone was high pitched as though to mock the other. 

"There's just something about them." Sam's heart was beating out of his chest. If he was alone and in good hobbit clothes, then maybe he could run, but he was in heavy Orc armor with Mr. Frodo by his side. 

"Well, let 'em take off their helmets, but if they turn out to be Orcs, I won't be pleased. In fact, I will be so angry that I'll..." The next part was not a pleasant image. 

"You two, take your helmets off." Sam was frozen and Frodo was so weak that he couldn't take off the heavy Orc helmet.  

"I said, 'take 'em off.'" The leader took his large, dirty hands and yanked the helmets off of Sam's and Frodo's heads. Frodo collapsed to the floor. 

"See, I told ye, they ain't Orcs."

The leader at the Orc before turning his gaze back to Sam, who was shaking despite the heat. "These two are sons of men," The Leader said, "Take 'em to the tower."

In Barad-dur, the ring was found while Frodo was searched. Sam didn't have to be told this for how could it not be found?

He had lost Sting to those horrid beasts and he was now lying in his cell. A man keeled down by him and whispered about what would happen to his master and how it was his fault. 

----

The sun could not be seen and neither could the army. "Do you have any tidings yet Lord Faramir," Éowyn asked as she turned to face the man. He had slight bags under his eyes, and he was holding himself against a wall. 

"Not yet, but I hope that any that do come are good."

"I hope so too but nothing changes." She stood tall as she focused onto the west. "I fear for them Lord Faramir. 

"Do not do so too much for those men were some of the best I've ever seen."

"They are but they have been too few."

A moment of silence passed between the two. 

"Let us take a walk, My Lady. We can collect Master Merry if you so wish," Faramir said. He made a move to leave but he soon fell to the floor.

Éowyn walked to him and held out her hand. He gladly took it. "I am sorry, My Lady, I do not know what came over me."

"It is alright. I suppose we shall not go on a walk today for you must talk to Ioreth."

Faramir's breath came out weak and uneven. "I suppose I should see her." He then turned and, bracing himself against the wall, walked away. 

Éowyn focused to the west once again. The door to the houses of healing opened and someone began to speak in a raise voice. Éowyn ran to the voice. 

"What happened," She asked, her voice was quick and sharp. 

The guard of the citadel said, "The army at the Black Gate has been defeated. The Enemy had the ring. I must speak with the Lord Faramir."

"I shall get him," Éowyn said and she ran to where Ioreth was. 

Faramir was talking with the old healer who's face was grave. "Lord Faramir, a guard of the citadel brings dark tidings from the black gate."

"What are they?" Faramir's head whipped around and he's usually gentle turned hard in a moment. 

Éowyn repeated what the guard of the citadel said and Faramir's eyes grew harder and seemed to even darken. 

"Take me to him," Faramir said. Eowyn did so. 

"Lord Faramir-" The citadel guard began. 

Faramir was quick to cut him. "Please, collect everyone by the white tree before we discuss our next move." The citadel guard nodded.  He was then gone. 

"Everyone, head to the white tree, Bergil collect those in the other houses of healing, and Éowyn go to the gates and make sure Hurin and his men lock the gates tight before heading there. There is a horse in the stables by the garden." Faramir didn't pause before going to Ioreth. 

Éowyn ran to the gardens. The horse was sitting withing those stables Faramir had mentioned. It was a nice horse. She rode through the city and called out, "Meet by the White Tree." 

She only went through the parts of the city where there were guards. She rode with Hurin and those by the gates to the courtyard that held the tree. 

---

Arwen Undomiel read through the story she had picked up. It was a fictional little tale that focused on the beautiful woods of Lothlorien. It was beautiful written but quite a simple story.  

There was a knock at her door that she walk to. Behind the door was Erestor who was out of breath. "Lady Undomiel, your father wishes to speak with you."

"What happened," She asked. 

"He wishes to tell you himself."

Arwen walked briskly to her father's office. Nothing good was happening but it would hopefully not the news of the victory of The Enemy. Her heart could not bare that and its implications. 

"You wished to see me, Father," She said as she opened the door. 

"Yes, take a seat," Elrond said. He had only looked up when she had entered. 

Arwen sat down and looked him in the eyes. 

"The Enemy has taken the ring," Her father said, "I wish for you to go to the havens."

Arwen sighed. "I shall not."

"This is not you fleeing out of cowardice. I am advising everyone to leave."

"I shall only go if you go."

"I cannot."

"Then I cannot. I will not leave all of my family."

"This is not a request, Arwen. Estel is most likely dead." 

"Do you truly think that I would only stay for Estel. I love him, but I also love Middle-Earth, you, my brothers, my grand-parents, and my people. I will leave this place for thralldom." Arwen met her father's gaze.

It was then Elrond's turn to sigh. "Pack to leave. You shall leave with Glorfindel, Bilbo, and a few others in the morning." Arwen continued to hold his gaze for a few moments before rising and walking out of the room.