Forgetting

By Protoguy

Chapter I

Remembering

The first thing I noticed when I had entered the room was the smell of horses. It brought back so many memories. Of sitting by the hearth in a hide tent. Of returning to the Hall after a hunt, the first meal upon returning. Of her soft kiss. The curve of her neck.

She wasn’t here of course. I had not expected her to be. The memories were so clear, I felt like she was just in the next room. She would come through the doorway any minute now.

I turned and walked out. Outside, in the bright morning light, milky with fog. I stooped to pick up a bridle lying in the snow. It was cracked and brittle. Had it been so long? It seemed like I had just left. Like she had just told me. Like I had only just rode off. 2 years ago. I thought of her face for the hundredth time since dawn woke me, cold under my skins in the empty room.

It had been a doubtful thing from the first. The brightest star burns out the quickest, they say. We had burned bright. I shook my head, trying to rid it of the pictures that played there. Late under the stars, in my arms, birdsong telling us it was time to sleep. Waking with her in my arms still.

I climbed into the saddle and with a whisper I was away. The memories fading as the Halls receded into the fog, now burning off in the late morning sun. I looked to the East, darker in the distance, the Tower loomed. My path led North and on up into the highlands. A hunt. To keep my mind from her. A hunt of forgetting.

 

Chapter II

Wrath

The blade cut me from shoulder to elbow. It was not deep, but it was painful. And it bled. So much that I could hold my sword no longer. I switched hands. I swung it quickly around and divided the man in two. The look of surprise on his face stayed with me for a while afterwards.

It was one thing to use my spear and knife on the orcs that filled this wood, but quite another to kill a man. You can see in his face people you have known. Friends maybe. There is no recognition in an orc face.

The men fell like grass. My spear sliced through them like water. Their bodies splashed aside, red cresting onto the green field. In my wrath, they were mere shadows of men at this point. I saw no more faces. Only blood and steel. All of the frustration I had been feeling was flowing out of my arm, to my spear. To their limbs. Onto the green.

It had only been two months since I last saw her and the sense of being lost hasn’t left me. I had been out riding and saw her from afar.

An arm flew by as I removed it from its owner.

Her long hair caught in the soft breeze.

Blood sprayed my leather, my face. Hands grasped my arms as I cut a man’s throat with my knife.

I had watched as she returned to the tower.

The cottage was burning, the occupants, long dead in the basement, cared little. The Southron raiders were beyond caring now too.

I stood in the clearing in a circle of blood and gore, a halo of red. I fell to my knees.

The tower door closed.

 

Chapter III

The Riddle

I wasn’t sure how long I had wandered or how far. I looked up from the back of Nahar’s neck and mountains loomed up before me. Hithilglin. How had I come this far? I dropped down and scouted for a place to make a small camp. It began to rain. Nahar wandered beneath the overhanging rocks for shelter.

Finding no more than a small depression in the rocks, I retrieved my packs and started a small fire. Nahar moved closer to the warmth. I took off his saddle and retrieved a dry blanket for him. He pushed me playfully with his nose.

"I know...not much company, am I?"

He nibbled on my sleeve. I pulled an old wrinkled apple from my pack and he took it gently and munched for a while.

As I sat staring at the fire, my mind wandering through the past few months, I became aware of a presence nearby. Nahar must have felt it too. He stamped his feet impatiently. It was getting late and the failing light gave the world a grey, dead feel. I listened intently for any sound, but none came. Even the normal sounds of the wood had ceased.

I felt it on my neck. A breath. In a heartbeat, I was standing, with my spear in hand, facing the largest bear I had ever seen. I had hunted these beasts before in my youth (if it can be called that), but I had given that up when I began to feel the intelligence of the creatures. I looked into it’s eyes and it seemed I caught a glimmer of recognition there.

"Why are you here? In my woods? Are you lost?" A deep rumbling voice.

I was at a loss for words for a moment, wondering that the beast did not have the same problem.

"I... guess you could say that. I am not lost in that I know where I am. I am lost in that I don’t know where I am going. There is no road in front of me and the way back is lost forever," was my reply.

"Well now, if you are going to speak in riddles you should have warned me, I know quite a few," it said with what I was certain was humor in its gruff voice.

It shuffled closer to the fire and sat down slowly, grumbling as it did.

"What makes fools of Kings and Kings of fools, builds castles and destroys mountains? What is the answer and the question?"

"I have heard this one before I think. Is it time?" I asked.

"Time? No, but that’s a good one, I should remember that. But, no. It is not time."

"Oh, then I will have to think on it." I said.

"Talk to me while you do, it has been awhile since I had a companion. The dwarves in these mountains think I am a monster or a vision or something. They run when I am near."

"What would you like to talk about?" I asked, never having had a conversation with a very large bear before.

"Tell me of your home."

I began to tell him of my Halls in Valinor. Of the woods there. I talked of the hunts I had had, of the Great Hunt in the Woods. I skipped any parts concerning bears. I spoke of the stars and the trees as the bear nodded agreeably.

We sat there far into the night, my companion politely listening, only once in a while interrupting to ask a question or clear up a grey spot. I spoke of my recent encounter with the black dragon. As I described, with some hesitancy, the incident with the Southron raiders, it sat quietly watching my eyes.

"Why does this one incident bother you so much?" it asked.

"I cannot say for certain, but I guess." I stopped, not feeling sure I should go on. "My mind was on other things. Mercy was not in my thoughts." At least that was true.

"Much that you say hints at so much more that you do not. I think I know a little of what you mean between words." It confided, still watching me.

"I have been living in these woods for close on 500 years. The mountains do not change, only those who cross them. In all this time, I have found no others like me. I am, I think, the last of my kind. In my youth, I knew more like me. I had a family and a love to call my own. One by one they all died. I watched as my family died of old age."

"What of your love? What happened?" I asked.

"I do not know. One day it was just no longer there", my companion said, poking at the wood by the fire absentmindedly.

My heart was stirred by this beast, alone in this vast wood for so long. I wondered how it had survived so long after the rest of it’s kind.

It was getting lighter, the dawn approaching as it always had. We had sat talking the entire night. I had told this creature about my love. Of our sundering. Of my self-imposed exile. There was a note of disapproval in it’s voice at that last.

"Why would you isolate yourself purposefully? I would give all the years from then until now for one more day with my love." The beast paused. "but it is getting light, I must be going." The bear rose to get up, brushing the pine needles from it’s fur.

"Have you thought on my riddle?" She asked.

"With all this talk, I had forgotten. I am sorry, I don’t have an answer." I said.

"I think you do. Good day sir, it has been a pleasure spending the evening with you. Please come visit me again soon."

"If I am in your woods again, I will visit you." I replied. With that she strode out into the wood and was gone.

Nahar came back after a few minutes. He looked distinctly put out and stamped his feet angrily. "Don’t worry, friend, you may not be able to speak, but she cannot carry me like the wind as you. There is no need to be jealous." He pushed me affectionately with his nose.

As I was packing the gear away, I thought of the night’s encounter. The conversation ran through my head, yet I could recall little of what the bear had said. It seemed that I had done all the talking. It felt like a lost opportunity to be in the presence of a bear that can speak and then doing all of the talking oneself.

I rolled the evenings conversation over in my head and was struck dumb with a sudden realization. The shock of it took my breath away.

"LOVE!!" I yelled, hoping she could hear me. "Love", I said once more. I stood there long, in the grey dawn, feeling more lost than before. I had known.

I packed the gear, climbed onto Nahar and with a word, left the camp and climbed the path that led over the mountains.

 

From the trees she watched as the Hunter readied to go. His slow deliberate movements echoing her melancholy.

She watched as he stood in the cool fog, as understanding came over him. She watched as he stood for long minutes and then, mounting his horse, rode off.

Then she returned to her former skin and her bear eyes watched him as he faded into the grey.

 

Chapter IV

The Message

"What do you want?"

I had found a dry cave in the mountains that was large enough to set up camp in. I had planned on staying few a few days before moving on. It was cozy enough. There were no signs of the previous inhabitants.

Two days I had been here and for two days I had done little except lay on the cool floor of the cave and watch the shadows dance across the ceiling. I had heard him coming before the hounds smelled him.

"Pardon me Lord, I know you did not want to be disturbed, but...she asked for you."

The ceiling lurched. I sat up slowly. "Why?"

"I don’t know Lord, but..." the Rider stammered something incomprehensible.

"But what? Out with it already." I snapped impatiently.

"I think there is some trouble," he replied somewhat sheepishly.

I turned to look at him. Nahar was behind him in the mouth of the cave, blocking the exit.

"What kind of trouble?" I asked.

"I do not know, my Lord. But I had not seen her in at least a week. I had kept an eye on her as you requested, but it was difficult. She is ever in the tower now and, well, he is a wizard after all. How could I know what I was seeing was true or not? She may have come and gone a hundred times and he with the ability to cloak her movements. But last night she came out of the tower and gave a message to the guard I had placed. The others know nothing of it. Or of my departure to find you. Normally you are nigh impossible to track, Lord, but your trail was clear and I had no trouble finding you."

"I made no attempt to not be found. What did the note say?"

"I haven’t read it Lord. It is still sealed."

He handed me an envelope of cream colored parchment, still sealed with her star in violet wax. I broke the seal and read the note.

The parchment floated slowly to the floor of the cave. I was on Nahar’s back and away before it touched the cool dirt. I yelled back to the rider who was picking himself up off the ground, "Follow if you can. Send word when you get there that I may need assistance, although you will most likely be too late to aid me. I do not think I will require it though." I left him blinking in the mouth of the cave.

 

Chapter V

The Tower

Nahar flew like a gale through a mountain pass. The trees were a blur. Leaning forward, my head near his ear, I stared ahead, half seeing the path, half seeing my path. It had led me into exile, and now was leading me back to her. What did I expect to find? Would she be cold and distant, warm and pleasant? Her note had seemed detached, even as she had called for me. My mind turned these things over again and again until they were as blurred as the trees flying by.

Finally I could see the end of the wood. We burst out of the treelike, scattering crows like ashes. They quorked in protest as they returned to the carcass of some beast they had been pecking over. A few lifted and flew over me. They could not out-pace Nahar, but they were not encumbered by such things as trees or rock falls. I watched with growing ire as a group of four flew south and west over the trees to my left.

An hour. Then two. Soon the mountains that skirted my right began sweeping closer. I was getting nearer. Then I saw it. The Tower. It loomed up like a dark finger accusing the sky. Nahar began to slow down as we neared our destination. I whispered a word and he increased his pace again.

The gates were open and the sentinels staggered back, stunned by the rush of my passing. A bell rang in the guard room off of the gatehouse.

The Tower filled my vision as we bore down on it. Nahar had barely begun to slow when I swung out of the saddle and hit the ground running. Up the long steps I surged, spear in hand. The door boomed as my shoulder slammed into them. They held firm. I flung my body against them again and again, the noise of my efforts echoing off the black walls.

Stepping back, I looked up at the walls of the tower stretching upwards, seemingly endless. I reached to my hip and pulled the thong hanging there, my fingers grasping Valaroma. I brought it to my lips and blew a long bellowing note on it. The echoes reverberated for long seconds afterwards.

The window opened. A wizened face appeared.

 

Chapter VI

Beowine

Beowine rode hard. It was impossible to keep pace with the Vala’s steed, but their trail was not difficult to follow. He needed only look for the broken limbs of trees and the remains of saplings trodden to shreds by the fiery hooves of the Father of Horses. He had ridden without rest for five hours and now lay by a stream contemplating the events he had been involved in. The Lord Oromë had asked him to watch over her for him. A pleasant task indeed compared to hunting the enemies of Rohan across the Mark. She was beautiful, with hair like deep amber waves of dwarven bronze and a voice like the birds singing in the early morning.

But the task had proven more difficult than he had imagined. The Hunter of the Valar had warned him of the potential problems and dangers, but he had not prepared him for the glamours and enchantments of the wizard and his dwelling. He had watched the Tower for days before realizing that it was impossible that no one had entered or left for days on end. Provisions were no doubt stored in the Tower and anyone inside could wait out a long siege if need be. On the third day of his watch, he had left the Tower under the watchful eye of his oldest son, so that he may return home for a brief rest. Riding towards Rohan he spied a small caravan of carts heading the other direction. At the head of the line of wains sat the wizard on a tall grey horse. He had been sure that no one had left the Tower, yet there he was. He had seen him inside earlier that day in the window above the main doors.

Beowine read the note again to himself. It made no sense, why would the wizard hold her against her will? She says she is not allowed out of her room, but why would he want her confined? She was a willing guest in his home, there was no need, unless he did something to upset her and she threatened to leave him.

He sat up so fast his horse almost bolted. Of course! He grabbed his pack, mounted and was soon flying through the trees.

 

Chapter VII

The Wizard

"What can I do for you Lord Oromë?" the wizard inquired.

"You know why I am here. I did not come all this way for a pleasant visit. Release her." I replied, my wrath barely contained.

"Come now Lord, she is not a prisoner. She is here of her own free will. Come up and visit with us."

"I will not enter the Tower. Though it was not made for you, it has your glamour upon it," I said.

"I am hurt Lord, Why would you think I would wish you or her any harm? Come inside so we can talk, craning my neck out of this window is giving me pain."

 

I thought on this. I was Vala after all, what fear did I have from a Maia? There was naught he could do to assail me. It had to be a trap of some sort, but to what end? There was nothing for it but to go in and face whatever was waiting inside.

"I will come up. I wish to see her."

"Of course Lord, she is in the highest room resting. We had a busy day," he said with a smile that reminded me of a lizard about to pounce on an unsuspecting insect.

I strode up the steps and stood before the doors. After a second or two, they opened to darkness. I stepped over the threshold and into the darkness. The door snicked shut behind me. As my eyes adjusted I could see a dim glow coming from the top of a long staircase that spiraled up along the inside wall to my right. There was no one here who could have opened the door. I mounted the stairs and ascended to the top. The door swung in to reveal a large room, much larger than I would have thought possible for the Tower to hold. It was dark here as well, the only light coming from a high window to my left. It was narrow and tall and glazed with multicolored images of strange creatures. Dominating the glass was a large beast with many eyes that resembled Ungoliant. Perhaps this was a part of a larger series depicting the events of the First Age. The monster didn’t look quite right though. Ungoliant had eight legs and many eyes, but this creature had at least ten legs and many more eyes.

I called out to the wizard but got no answer. I strode to the window to see what I could see outside. It was difficult to see through the glass, ripples in it caused the outside images to distort. Finding a fairly smooth, clear piece with which to look through, I was staggered by what I saw. All around me stretched league upon league of dull orange sand, flowing in waves like the sea frozen in motion. The sky was a flat plain of searing white-blue. No landmark could be seen anywhere. I stepped back, catching my heel on the edge of a tile and fell backwards onto the floor.

"How do you like my Tower, Lord?"

I stood up and spun around, trying to find the source of the voice. Caracirya was in my hand. My other on the knife at my belt. Standing with my back to the window, my shadow framed in the long shaft of colors on the floor, I called out, "what is this place?"

"It is my old home. Do you like it? I hope so, you will be staying here for a while."

"Why have you imprisoned me? Where is she?!" I demanded.

A cold, hollow laugh filled my ears. I tried to follow the sound but the echoes in this room were deceptive.

"She was never here. You were so easily taken by my little deception. Oh, yes, I know, you saw her leave with me and spoke to her many times since then, but she was never a prisoner in Orthanc. She rarely even came there. It was all a ruse. Your love for her clouded your judgment, it was that love that ensnared you. She is however, being held in the Tower you stand in now. May the both of you find peace in each others arms, for you will be together for quite a long time."

"Why? For what purpose would you keep us here? Why her? She has done you no wrong." My mind reeled under the weight of what I had just been told.

"No harm," he said slowly, venom in his voice. "Do you think I am merely spirit without feelings or desires? Do you not think that I could be harmed by her? Her very existence wounds me. But that is beside the point. She was only a tool to bring you to me."

"And why would you wish me held?" I asked, searching the darkness for him. My only thought to throttle him in his own Tower.

"I have business in Rohan and Gondor and cannot have you getting in the way. The White Council has become stagnant and is ruled by dotards. There needs to be a change of leadership and you would have complicated things."

I could not follow his ramblings. He was clearly out of his mind. He was the head of the White Council since Saruman fell. Perhaps he meant for some other to rule. I stepped cautiously forward out of the shaft of light, my spear in front of me, slowly making my way though the black. It seemed a sentient thing. It clung to my limbs, weighing me down. I bumped into a low object fixed to the floor. I felt like a low column or a narrow table. I groped for the top and my hands found cloth. I pulled the cloth aside and the room brightened in the exposed red light of the object on the plinth.

A Palantir!

"Good day Lord." The sneering visage of the wizard glared up at me.

 

Chapter VIII

The Chamber

"Do you like your new home?" He asked with a triumphant grin.

"Where am I?"

"You are in my old home, as I said. In the east." He replied.

"How did I get here?" I asked.

"Oh, just a little portal I placed at the doorway. You could not even tell you moved could you?" he was overconfident. I may be able to use that.

"No, I noticed nothing. How does it work?" I asked, stalling him.

"It’ simple really, but I won’t go into the specific theories behind teleportation, suffice it to say that you stepped through a doorway through a void and the two locations were connected by that void." He was clearly pleased with himself.

"What if the door were closed before I had come through?"

"Then you would have been stuck in that void forever with no way to get out. In the void, you may not be able to see either door, whether they are opened or not. But now I must leave you. Your love is up the stairs ahead. Farewell." The wizard faded from view.

I walked cautiously to the far wall. I could see no stairs yet through the thick darkness. There was a rumbling sound to my left and I froze. The darkness became heavier. I could not see anything through it, but I could feel something there, the dark surging back and forth from it like a tide. I could hear a soft clicking sound and tried to locate its origin. The sound gets louder and a black shape within the blackness shifts. It is coming nearer. A long fetid limb, armored in black shell extends into the red glow. A second. I can dimly see small glowing specks in between the legs. A third comes into the light. I back away slowly. The eyes follow me, as I retreat. It is monstrous, a huge nightmare. The creature from the window! It continues forward, each leg striking the ground in turn. It is very much like a great spider, but it carries a large pointed shell on its back, several spines as long as my spear. At the ends of its forelegs are large claws, terrible crushing weapons.

I bump into something and turn to see the plinth with the great red stone upon it. It is advancing on me with great speed now. It will be upon me soon. I leap up onto the column, my spear in hand. I jump upwards and forward as the creature slams into the column, crushing the stone to powder. The Stone of Orthanc hits the floor with a solid thud and rolls away. I land on the back of the monster and onto the floor behind. The beast spins, it’s massive claws sweep the air above me as I duck under them. I thrust my spear up as the second claw passes and the blade shears through the horny carapace and the claw strikes the ground with a crack. The creature reels back, it’s wounded claw flailing. I rush to it’s right, looking for a vulnerable spot. I swing my spear at the legs, but the creature is wary now and the limbs stay out of my reach. I circle around and it turns to keep me in front of it.

 

Chapter IX

The Beast

I retreated back towards the window, trying to draw the creature into the light. The dark was hampering me too greatly. It emanated from the creature and increased as it drew near. It was a drain on my limbs. I thought perhaps the sunlight would lessen this effect. It advanced on me slowly, seeming hesitant. Perhaps it was reconsidering whether or not this prey was worth the pain it had received. I backed up to the wall, the window just over my left shoulder. The beast was only yards away now, advancing cautiously. Holding my spear out in front of me, I wait for it. The monster halts and it’s legs draw into itself, coiling to strike. One stab with one of it’s legs and it will be over. I could see it’s foul mouth moving beneath its many eyes, the jaws clicking, dripping dark saliva onto the stone floor. I braced myself  for the impact, placing the hilt of my spear against the wall, hoping to impale it when it flung itself at me.

A noise from behind the creature. I could not see around the great bulk of it, but the beast spun around to face the sound. I leapt forward and drove my spear into its back, the tip barely penetrating the thick shell. It spun again, pulling me with it. I could not remove my spear, it was stuck in its carapace. I hauled myself up onto the thing’s back and drew my long knife and drove it into one of the eyes. The thing jumped straight up, trying to dislodge me. I pulled the knife out and thrust it into another eye. It spun around and I hit the wall hard as I flew off of it. It was looking for me frantically and I rushed forward, leaping up and grabbing the spear, my momentum wrenching the point from the shell. I landed roughly on the other side of it and, regaining my feet, turned and drove the blade up and into the thing’s mouth as it turned to face me. It made a horrendous shrieking sound and scuttled backwards, trying to get away from the pain, dragging me with it. It smashed into the wall behind, shattering the stained glass, the pure white light streaming in and illuminating the room. I pushed forward and drove the spear nearly its entire length into it. The thing convulsed, it’s claws crashing into me, sending me sprawling. It screamed as it flung its body around the chamber. Suddenly it crashed to the floor. A great spasm racked it’s body and it was still.

I stood catching my breath in the receding darkness. As the creature’s life ebbed away, so did the blackness emanating from it. I walked forward and pulled my spear from its body. A flood of black ichor poured from the wound, pooling on the floor. I backed away from it as it spread across the tiles.

"What are you doing here, Lord Oromë?"

 

Chapter X

Gandalf

I whirled. I had forgotten the noise that had distracted the beast. There in the growing light was the wizard!

"Gandalf!" I rushed to face him, my spear ready to impale him.

"Wait! You don’t understand! Let me explain."

"I understand you very well, I think. You are mad with power and have used her and I to gather more to yourself. But now I will end your madness." I advanced on him, ready to end his life in Middle Earth, to send him back to the Halls of Mandos for judgment.

"Lord Oromë, if you would but let me explain, it will be very clear to you that we have both been made pawns in a very strange game, one that I surely did not foresee. Put aside your spear and we can figure out a way out of this trap."

His words to me were a soothing balm to my troubled mind, but I knew the power of the Istari. Words were their magic, their voice a binding spell to sway or ensnare.

"I will retain my spear, speak if you must. Tell me where she is first." I demanded hotly.

"She is not here. She never was. At least not in any part of the Tower I have seen. There are many rooms above this one, but that beast kept me from exploring below this level. I only came down when I heard the sounds of a struggle here."

"I have been a prisoner in this Tower for at least a year." He continued. "I have lost track of the time. I assume this Tower is located in the east, with all this desert around us. He must have been biding his time here, gathering his strength before making his move. I had always wondered what had happened to him. He is quite insane with power, yes, but also very cunning."

"Who?" I asked, growing impatient.

"Alatar of course." The wizard said calmly.

"Alatar? I thought he was lost in the east before Saruman came west." I asked, perplexed.

"So had I, but apparently he wasn’t. We had long conversations, he and I. He is very proud of what he has done and is trying to do, and has spent many months trying to draw me to his side. It seems that he had made some powerful allies in the east during his travels. Not the least of which was a Black Numenorean from Umbar. Alatar has been in the service of Sauron for many years since then. His most powerful emissary in the east, if you can believe him. He lies more often than he speaks truthfully. But his lies are cunning, always with a grain of truth to confuse."

I relaxed a bit. "If what you say is true, what happened to Pallando, the other Ithryn Luin?"

"I believe he killed him, though I am not certain. He may be imprisoned as well. Istari do not die, as you well know, but return to Mandos. He might not have risked killing his body and having him return unlooked-for. This was the reason he imprisoned me. But that may prove his undoing. He is arrogant and that causes him to make poor decisions sometimes, as pride usually will."

"So what do we do now? We are both still in a Tower far from Orthanc." I asked.

"I have an idea. He placed that Palantir in here so he could gloat before his creature began to toy with you. In his pride, he thought a creature such as this" he indicated the putrid body on the stone floor, "which was surely an offspring of Ungoliant, but twisted and bred for this climate, would surely be able to keep you occupied for many days. A twisted sport for him I guess. He did not count on you besting it. But now that you have, we have the advantage for awhile."

"You see," he continued, "the teleportation spell relies on the Palantir to keep the portal open. It is the key. If we can use that, we may be able to trap him here, and escape back to Orthanc."

"How can we do that?"

"I have an idea." He replied with a wry smile.

 

Chapter XI

The Door

Alatar sat in his chair and bent his mind on the tasks at hand, how to draw Umber further into trade with the Tower without the locals knowing too much. This he thought of to drive the other from his mind. He knew he would have to do it. He dreaded it. He knew he must, but the thought of the deed was simply too much for him. It was a distraction to him and he hated that - he would use that to help him do what he had to.

After a few minutes he pushed himself away from the table. The maps covering it were so much useless paper now. He could not get her out of his mind. And now this news. "He asks too much." He thought. But the image of the Eye came to him, in a flash of adrenaline, reminding him of his bondage. He would use that too.

He went to a side table. Opening the small drawer, he retrieved a small but cruel knife. He slipped it into his sleeve and turned to walk out of the room, when he saw the glow of the Palantir. Covered on its stand, it glowed brightly through the fabric. The Eye. He had to answer it. The dread of what that meant crawled over him. He walked over to the table and took hold of a corner of the cloth. He hesitated a moment and composed himself. He pulled the cloth away.

It was not Him. It was him. Oromë. The sight of him, angers him. He has bested the creature. He had not thought he could have dealt with it so quickly. No matter, it is leagues from the deserts of Khand. Oromë cannot interfere with his plan now.

"Yes? Can I help you, Lord?" He asked politely.

"You can come get your little pet, he needs to be seen to", was my reply.

"I think letting it rot there with you is a better idea. Besides you have company now, do you not? Oh, I am sorry if it’s not the company you had hoped for. But do not fear, she is well taken care of. In fact, I was just going to see how she is fairing." He pulled the dagger out of his sleeve and admired the red enamel and gold filigree.

"Company? I am alone as you intended".

His expression changed subtly. "Is there no one in the tower above? Ah well, perhaps he leaped to his death. He had been there for quite a while and I think it was affecting his mind."

"Who?" I asked.

"No one of consequence. It matters not."

"I will see you soon enough, Gandalf." I said to the imposter.

"Oh, and how are you going to do that? You are in the far Southeast, in the deserts of the Haradrim. I suppose you have a flying horse to rescue you? Or perhaps a teleportation spell to send you hither." He giggled evilly.

"No, I have something better. I have summoned Gwaihir. Did you truly think you could imprison a Vala? Are you that far down the Path that you think you have become greater than your appointed stature? I will be free of your winter home soon enough and shortly after, dealing with you." I threatened.

"Gwaihir cannot help you. The Tower is impenetrable."

"Your pet broke the window and your spell, it seems."

His expression grew dark. Oromë watched as the globe went darker still. "Do you think he will come?" I asked the true Gandalf.

"Oh, I believe his anger and his pride will get the better of him. He has been bested, and so soon into his little game, he will fly down here to deal with you very quickly. We had better prepare."

The door in the lowest level opened and the imposter stormed in. He was in a fever of anger, his movements hurried. He strode quickly up the stairs, taking them in twos. He opened the door quickly and took in the scene. The creature was clearly dead, the smell was overwhelming. The plinth was a pile of rubble. Where was the Palantir? He looked to his right and saw the shattered window. Had he already escaped? He would use that too to finish the deed. He turned and headed back down the stairs. He opened the door and stepped through.

Into nothing.

The grey was a flat featureless grey. There were no landmarks, no up or down really, except for the orientation he had had coming through the door. He turned to go back through and his chest lurched. Where was the door? He turned completely around once, desperation beginning to take him as the realization of what had occurred struck him. He began to crawl around near where he thought the door had been. To look for some sign that might show him where it lay. After hours of scratching at the dull grey fabric of this plane, he got up and started walking. He picked a direction at random and set out, first walking, then running, then stumbling as he called out to Sauron for aid, although he knew that he could not be here.

He walked falteringly for days before he felt it. It was the same fear he felt under the Eye, only deeper. It felt like it was coming out of himself rather than emanating from the orb or the Dark Lord himself. It was different and wholly overwhelming. He fell to his knees and tried to crawl away in the opposite direction, but could only manage a few paces before he was face down against the flat grey surface of this world. Then it struck him. Like a cold knife of ice driven into his heart, he knew his folly. He felt the stabbing pain of recognition. He was in the Void. And so was He. Not his recent master. His Master. Bauglir, The Constrainer... Melkor..... Morgoth. Within his torn mind, he screamed.

 

Chapter XII

The Void

As soon as the imposter had rushed up the stairs and through the door, we were through our own door, and in his own Tower in Isengard almost without noticing the transition.

I rushed up the stairs like a gale. In the uppermost room in Orthanc, I found her. I had opened the door and there she was, standing framed by the window.

"That door was always locked." she said with a blank expression on her face. And I knew.

"It is open now." Was all I could think to say.

"I Thank you." She said.

 

Gandalf walked to Alatar’s table and placed the Palantir in a basket there. He looked the maps over. "He was preparing an invasion of Rohan. See how he has placed these troops, men from Khand I guess, at the gap and near the Emyn Muil, all he had to do was attack with a large force from Isengard and then in the heat of battle when the tide is the most fickle, the two arms of his trap will close and crush the Mark. Or would have. He is beyond that now."

"What has happened to him? Can he escape?"

"When we closed the door, we trapped him in there. By taking the Palantir with us, we effectively made the doorway disappear. He is lost in the void.

“The only thing that exists in the void, beyond those trapped there, is Time. There is no joy, no color, no Music. Only flat grey nothing. And Time. It is a burden there where you can notice nothing but the Time dragging by. He will not be able to find his way out before he loses his mind. Or something else finds him."

"So He is still there. Of course he is. We chained him there. Even in that Nothing, I am certain He has grown stronger." The thought of His release burned in my head.

"What of you? Where do you go? And does she go with you?" He put his hat upon his head.

"Where I go remains as before. Where I will. But I think I will take up my exile once more. The lady stays here. She says she has become a part of the Tower." I turned to leave, and then turned back to the wizard. "Thank you."

"For what Lord? You rescued me." He said with a smile of pure light.

I smiled and turned and strode out of the Tower.

Nahar was in the stable. He had been brushed and his belly looked like he had not been neglecting the fresh oats in the trough. He nickered jovially when I entered the out-building. I threw the blanket and saddle over him and we were soon away.

 

Epilogue

"So you are leaving?"

"Yes. You know I cannot stay here." She replied.

"But, Lord Oromë...?"

"I told him that so he could find his way. But now I must find mine as well."

"I understand. You will always have a friend and a home here, you know that." He was pretending to look through some journal he had read a hundred times before.

"I know. I will always remember that. But now I must go. Farewell for now. " She picked up her pack and without turning to him, walked out of the Tower.

 

Once she was out of the Ring of Isengard, she tapped her mare to a trot and headed North. She rode for a league or two towards the wood before turning east. At the edge of the forest she found what she was looking for. They were not hard to find. The hooves of the Father of Horses leave deep prints.

Back

If you come across any errors in the Kingdom Pages, email the rulers.
We welcome your suggestions!