Author's note: I'd like to once again thank everyone who reviewed. Except
for my good school mate the Puppet Killer. Nice going, Matt. Blab it all,
why don't you. *Mutter mutter* Well, on with the story.
Oh, one more thing. I couldn't resist sneaking a line or twon from Gladiator in here. I just think it's really appropriate. Any, on we go.
Arwen and Sauron faced each other, observing each other closely with mixed feelings. Arwen was curled up in the Dark Lord's throne in an attempt to recoil from Sauron. She was frightened as she had never been in her life, for before her was the most powerful and deadly creature that had ever walked Middle-Earth, yet she was also curious. What was it she was seeing in Sauron now, as he kneeled before her, head slightly bowed, broad shoulders slumped in a submissive manner? Was it some shards of the good and fair Sauron surfacing through, although it had been buried under the debris of darkness for thousands of years? Was it contemplation and memories about his deceased wife, Jacashore? Or was it, she found herself asking over and over, love?
Did the Dark Lord love her?
***
Lightning flashed over the ash plains of Mordor as the orcs and other fell beasts prepared for a final charge against the invaders from the West. They were at last holding their foes off, and now they prepared for a counter- attack to finish them off.
The army of uruk-hai assembled at the front, clad in thick black armour, bearing broad shields, swords with hooked ends and four-meter long pikes. They snarled and bared their teeth at the elves and men, who were only two hundred meters away, attempting to regroup before they were assaulted. There was no protection now from the ents, who had been assailed by an army of trolls and wargs and were in the midst of a fearsome battle.
Lurtz unsheathed his sword, gestured with it to the enemy and roared, "Uruk- hai, attack!"
Ten thousand uruk-hai rushed towards the remnants of the army of the West, lusting for blood and tender innards.
Gandalf and Galadriel observed the charge and pulled their swords from their scabbards.
The elf lady turned to the wizard, "It is as I anticipated. We shall all perish".
Gandalf smiled, "Perhaps. But I've an inkling that Sauron may also be in great peril".
Still, the uruk-hai charged.
***
"Do you love me?"
Sauron did not answer. He looked up to meet her gaze, then cast his glare back down to the floor.
Eventually, he rose up, "You are bolder and less subtle than most of your kindred in your conduct".
Arwen continued to watch him, "Answer me. Do you love me?"
"I am not obliged to answer to anyone, least of all whilst in my homestead."
"ANSWER".
He looked at her again, "Yes, I do. I love you, Arwen Evenstar. I love you as I loved Jacashore".
Arwen did not reply.
Sauron stood up and gestured for her to rise off his throne. She did so, still staring at the menace before her.
"And now", he rumbled, "I have plans. I shall enforce."
The doors flung open. Aragorn rushed in, sword clenched firmly in a two- handed grip. Arwen and Sauron turned to face him.
"The kings of Numénor certainly are persistent and irritating vermin", the Dark Lord snarled.
Aragorn stepped forward, "You made the same mistake as your lackey Saruman, your Lordship. You sent out all your forces and left yourself unguarded".
He twirled the sword effortlessly, beckoning Sauron on.
Sauron shook his bladed head, "You fool. I don't need any guards".
He rose off his throne and opened his palm. From across the room, his mace flew into his hand. He took a few steps forward, the foundations of Barad- dûr shaking as he did so.
Suddenly, he seemed to have a second thought, and he glanced at Arwen, "Wait here. You will be safe. I have work to do", and then he reared up to his full height and shouted, "Ge raukol naké, shergûl, ge oryac mol ashgûl!"
In a flash of blinding white light, he was gone. A low laughing could be heard from across Mordor.
Arwen collapsed into Aragorn's arms, sobbing. The Ranger embraced her, wondering what the Dark Lord had meant when he spoke to Arwen.
"Arwen, stay here", he whispered, "You will be safe. You are in no situation to fight".
He turned and began the descent of Barad-dûr's steps.
"Where are you going?" Arwen called after him.
"Sauron is no coward. He will be waiting for me", he shouted back up.
"But where?"
Aragorn grimaced, "Where my legacy fell".
***
Legolas twirled his twin daggers with amazing dexterity, slashing the throats and bowels of attacking uruk-hai. Suddenly, one large uruk leapt at him, sword raised and teeth bared, knocking him to the floor.
Uglúk snarled in triumph and rose up above the elf, sword ready to deliver the killing blow. Legolas, however, had the advantage of many years of training. He thrust his two daggers into Uglúk's thigh, and the orc bellowed in pain. As the elf nimbly leapt up, the aggravated uruk-hai slammed into him again, knocking him flat.
Legolas seized his and set an arrow to string. As Uglúk dropped down onto him, he fired. The wound was small but the tip of the arrow had touched the heart. With a groan, Uglúk fell to the floor, a steaming carcass.
Legolas yanked his two daggers out of the corpse, but was horrified to see an even larger uruk-hai aiming at him with a large, black bow. It fired, and before Legolas could react he was struck in the shoulder. He fell, clutching at the arrow that had struck him.
Lurtz grinned in triumph. He had witnessed the death of his companion, but he was an uruk-hai, and uruk-hai only noticed the death of friendly units from a tactical standpoint. He felt no sorrow for Uglúk as he trudged towards the elf to finish the job, but he was grateful that Legolas had been distracted long enough for him to get a shot in. If that was to be the result of Uglúk's sacrifice, so be it.
Lurtz put away his bow and unslung his shield from his back and unsheathed his sword. The elf looked up at him in dismay, helpless.
Several other orcs and uruk-hai who had watched the battle slavered at the sight of the blood oozing out of Legolas' wound. Lurtz towered above Legolas and raised his word in the style of an executioner, then declared, "Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys!"
As the sword swooped down, a little figure leapt out of the shadows of battle and hurled himself at Lurtz, hollering, "Barük Khazâd! Khazâd ai- menu!" A broad-bladed axe parried the sword before it could strike Legolas.
Lurtz snarled, "Get back, scum!"
Gimli, stalwart as ever in the face of death, heaved his axe with all his might. Lurtz toppled backwards, a vicious look on his face. As he struggled to regain his posture, Gimli rushed at him, axe raised. Lurtz nimbly leapt aside and attacked Gimli's flank, but the dwarf parried and then counter- attacked, bringing his huge axe above his head and letting it drop down towards Lurtz. The uruk-hai raised his shield in defence, but the force of the blow splintered and cracked the shield. It fell apart in Lurtz's grip.
Roaring in rage, the orc attacked again, raining hammer-hard blows with his sword at lightning speed. Gimli parried and dodged, then swung his axe directly at Lurtz's stomach. The uruk-hai howled and fell back, his stomach ripped open. Before the orc could do anything to defend himself, Gimli brought the axe down with amazing force onto the head of Lurtz. His skull cracked and splintered, and the leader of the uruk-hai and Sauron's army fell dead.
The uruk-hai who witnessed the event panicked and fled, yelping and snarling.
Legolas winced in pain as Gimli rushed to his side, "Master elf!" he cried, "You are hurt! Lie still!"
Without warning, he yanked he arrow out of Legolas' shoulder. The elf screamed in pain, as the barbed arrow had yanked out a lot of flesh with it.
Legolas winced again, but then he looked behind Gimli and his eyes widened, "Master dwarf, I fear this may be our last stand".
The uruk-hai had rallied again, followed by many orcs of Mordor and Moria.
The elf sank back and sighed, "There's too many".
Gimli leapt to his feet, "Not while there is room to swing an axe!"
The uruk-hai screamed and rushed at him. The axe swung and two fell back, headless. But more rushed forward and closed in on the dwarf, who fought on, bravely defending his friend to the bitter end.
*** Aragorn rushed up the slopes of Mount Doom, breathing steadily, Andúriel in its sheath. As he reached the opening to the cracks of Mount Doom, he could see flames dancing on the walls and a hideous shadow writhing with them.
He entered Oroduin, and stood before Sauron, who was less than twelve feet away.
Sauron faced him, the flames tinting his armour golden, his robe billowing. Aragorn looked up at the horse-skull helmet, and he was afraid.
The Dark Lord laughed, and Mount Doom seemed to laugh with him, "You are at last afraid, Aragorn son of Arathorn!"
Aragorn nodded, "I am. But bravery is standing up to your fears, not fearlessness".
Sauron seemed to consider this, then he nodded slowly, "I see the line of Kings of Gondor has increased in wisdom. But not so much, otherwise you wouldn't be here".
The Ranger made no reply.
Sauron continued tormenting him, "Are we so different, you and I? You take life when you have to, as do I".
Aragorn spat, "You take life for pleasure".
"Ah, but so do you. Have you not felt the rush of battle, the sheer enjoyment of war and conflict?"
Once again, Aragorn made no reply, because he feared the answer.
The Dark Lord stepped closer, "I can make you great, Aragorn! You can be the Lord of the Western lands, my most trusted lieutenant! You could be magnificent! What say you?"
Aragorn laughed and unsheathed Andúriel, "See this? This is the Sword that was Broken, and has now been reforged. Isildur used it to cut the Ring from you and then fell for your crooked promises and lies. I take not after Isildur, but Elendil the Great!"
"So be it".
Without warning, the Dark Lord swung his mace down at Aragorn, who leapt aside. The ground shook underneath Strider's feet. Sauron swung his mace again in a horizontal arc, and again, and again. Each time Aragorn nimbly dodged him, but he could feel himself beginning to tire with each passing swoop of the studded club.
However, after one huge swipe, the Dark Lord left his chest open and vulnerable. Aragorn seized the chance and leapt upon his chest. Finding a crack in Sauron's breastplate, he thrust Andúriel deep into the Dark Lord's flesh. He could feel the blade go deep past dense slabs of muscle and grate past ribs. Smoke and a burning smell rushed from the wound.
Sauron screamed like a struck animal, and began to swing his mace around in huge, ridiculous arcs. Either by luck or some sense of self-control, he struck Aragorn a minor blow, but it was enough to knock the man off him and to the floor, gasping for breath.
The Dark Lord continued to wield his hammer around madly, dislodging stones from the walls and floor. He soon regained himself and stomped over to Aragorn, his great shadow falling upon him. The Ranger looked up weakly.
"You shall pay for your arrogance!" Sauron roared. He swiped with his mace, and Aragorn lifted his sword up weakly in an attempt to block the blow.
The sword cracked and shattered. Splinters of the blade flew in all directions. Aragorn was left holding only the hilt-shard of the weapon.
Sauron recoiled at the sight of the broken blade. Memories of pain and torturous millennia of being separated from his Ring rushed back to him. Aragorn used the moment of weakness to stagger back to his feet, aching all over, his vision blurred.
The Dark Lord recomposed himself and lunged again, mace high above his bladed helmet as he crashed forward, snarling viscously. Once again he let the hammer fall, and Aragorn dropped to the floor to avoid it.
The Ranger was weak all over, his muscles failing, every movement a torturous one. He tried again to get up, but stumbled and crashed down again. The battle had taken its toll.
Sauron laughed above him, a great, gloating growl of malice as Aragorn coughed up blood. He switched his mace to his left hand and reached down, palm extending, the great black glove reaching for his adversary's throat.
Aragorn summoned up the last of his strength and swung the hilt-shard.
***
"Sixty-three!" Gimli cried as he axed an orc in the stomach. Another goblin rushed at him, drool dripping from its jaws. The axe swung again and it dropped down dead, skull crushed.
But Gimli was exhausted, and the orcs he was facing now were nimble, agile orcs of Moria and strong, brawny uruk-hai. The goblins danced around him, jeering and snapping, darting closer and baiting him, leaping back whenever he moved towards them. But they were tightening the circle. The uruk-hai had little patience for games. They barged through the goblins, sweeping a few heads off in the process with their blades, and attacked Gimli. The dwarf collapsed when one uruk chieftain struck him with his shield. The uruk-hai hollered in triumph.
Suddenly, they looked uncertainly towards Mount Doom. All orcs and other fell beasts turned and quailed. They dropped their weapons and wailed in despair and terror. The Ringwraiths acted swiftly and steered their mounts towards Oroduin, yet even they were afraid.
Gandalff the White climbed a atop a large rock and yelled, "Behold, captains of the west! Now is the time when the Lord of Numéonor reclaims his legacy!"
***
Sauron screeched in pain, a cry of a wounded animal, as his fingers were cut from his hand. They fell like black, pointed raindrops to the floor of Mount Doom, except for one, which had flown especially far. It fell into the cracks of Mount Doom, and merciless golden flames rushed up to engulf it.
The Ring was upon it.
White light crept from crevices in the Dark Lord's armour. It began to gush out, and there was a grinding noise, as if Sauron was being torn to shreds.
Then there was a blinding flash, and Aragorn shielded his eyes. As he did so, there was a cry from the Dark Lord.
"I would have butchered the whole world if only to have made her love me!"
The helmet fell to the floor, empty.
***
Epilogue coming soon!
Oh, one more thing. I couldn't resist sneaking a line or twon from Gladiator in here. I just think it's really appropriate. Any, on we go.
Arwen and Sauron faced each other, observing each other closely with mixed feelings. Arwen was curled up in the Dark Lord's throne in an attempt to recoil from Sauron. She was frightened as she had never been in her life, for before her was the most powerful and deadly creature that had ever walked Middle-Earth, yet she was also curious. What was it she was seeing in Sauron now, as he kneeled before her, head slightly bowed, broad shoulders slumped in a submissive manner? Was it some shards of the good and fair Sauron surfacing through, although it had been buried under the debris of darkness for thousands of years? Was it contemplation and memories about his deceased wife, Jacashore? Or was it, she found herself asking over and over, love?
Did the Dark Lord love her?
***
Lightning flashed over the ash plains of Mordor as the orcs and other fell beasts prepared for a final charge against the invaders from the West. They were at last holding their foes off, and now they prepared for a counter- attack to finish them off.
The army of uruk-hai assembled at the front, clad in thick black armour, bearing broad shields, swords with hooked ends and four-meter long pikes. They snarled and bared their teeth at the elves and men, who were only two hundred meters away, attempting to regroup before they were assaulted. There was no protection now from the ents, who had been assailed by an army of trolls and wargs and were in the midst of a fearsome battle.
Lurtz unsheathed his sword, gestured with it to the enemy and roared, "Uruk- hai, attack!"
Ten thousand uruk-hai rushed towards the remnants of the army of the West, lusting for blood and tender innards.
Gandalf and Galadriel observed the charge and pulled their swords from their scabbards.
The elf lady turned to the wizard, "It is as I anticipated. We shall all perish".
Gandalf smiled, "Perhaps. But I've an inkling that Sauron may also be in great peril".
Still, the uruk-hai charged.
***
"Do you love me?"
Sauron did not answer. He looked up to meet her gaze, then cast his glare back down to the floor.
Eventually, he rose up, "You are bolder and less subtle than most of your kindred in your conduct".
Arwen continued to watch him, "Answer me. Do you love me?"
"I am not obliged to answer to anyone, least of all whilst in my homestead."
"ANSWER".
He looked at her again, "Yes, I do. I love you, Arwen Evenstar. I love you as I loved Jacashore".
Arwen did not reply.
Sauron stood up and gestured for her to rise off his throne. She did so, still staring at the menace before her.
"And now", he rumbled, "I have plans. I shall enforce."
The doors flung open. Aragorn rushed in, sword clenched firmly in a two- handed grip. Arwen and Sauron turned to face him.
"The kings of Numénor certainly are persistent and irritating vermin", the Dark Lord snarled.
Aragorn stepped forward, "You made the same mistake as your lackey Saruman, your Lordship. You sent out all your forces and left yourself unguarded".
He twirled the sword effortlessly, beckoning Sauron on.
Sauron shook his bladed head, "You fool. I don't need any guards".
He rose off his throne and opened his palm. From across the room, his mace flew into his hand. He took a few steps forward, the foundations of Barad- dûr shaking as he did so.
Suddenly, he seemed to have a second thought, and he glanced at Arwen, "Wait here. You will be safe. I have work to do", and then he reared up to his full height and shouted, "Ge raukol naké, shergûl, ge oryac mol ashgûl!"
In a flash of blinding white light, he was gone. A low laughing could be heard from across Mordor.
Arwen collapsed into Aragorn's arms, sobbing. The Ranger embraced her, wondering what the Dark Lord had meant when he spoke to Arwen.
"Arwen, stay here", he whispered, "You will be safe. You are in no situation to fight".
He turned and began the descent of Barad-dûr's steps.
"Where are you going?" Arwen called after him.
"Sauron is no coward. He will be waiting for me", he shouted back up.
"But where?"
Aragorn grimaced, "Where my legacy fell".
***
Legolas twirled his twin daggers with amazing dexterity, slashing the throats and bowels of attacking uruk-hai. Suddenly, one large uruk leapt at him, sword raised and teeth bared, knocking him to the floor.
Uglúk snarled in triumph and rose up above the elf, sword ready to deliver the killing blow. Legolas, however, had the advantage of many years of training. He thrust his two daggers into Uglúk's thigh, and the orc bellowed in pain. As the elf nimbly leapt up, the aggravated uruk-hai slammed into him again, knocking him flat.
Legolas seized his and set an arrow to string. As Uglúk dropped down onto him, he fired. The wound was small but the tip of the arrow had touched the heart. With a groan, Uglúk fell to the floor, a steaming carcass.
Legolas yanked his two daggers out of the corpse, but was horrified to see an even larger uruk-hai aiming at him with a large, black bow. It fired, and before Legolas could react he was struck in the shoulder. He fell, clutching at the arrow that had struck him.
Lurtz grinned in triumph. He had witnessed the death of his companion, but he was an uruk-hai, and uruk-hai only noticed the death of friendly units from a tactical standpoint. He felt no sorrow for Uglúk as he trudged towards the elf to finish the job, but he was grateful that Legolas had been distracted long enough for him to get a shot in. If that was to be the result of Uglúk's sacrifice, so be it.
Lurtz put away his bow and unslung his shield from his back and unsheathed his sword. The elf looked up at him in dismay, helpless.
Several other orcs and uruk-hai who had watched the battle slavered at the sight of the blood oozing out of Legolas' wound. Lurtz towered above Legolas and raised his word in the style of an executioner, then declared, "Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys!"
As the sword swooped down, a little figure leapt out of the shadows of battle and hurled himself at Lurtz, hollering, "Barük Khazâd! Khazâd ai- menu!" A broad-bladed axe parried the sword before it could strike Legolas.
Lurtz snarled, "Get back, scum!"
Gimli, stalwart as ever in the face of death, heaved his axe with all his might. Lurtz toppled backwards, a vicious look on his face. As he struggled to regain his posture, Gimli rushed at him, axe raised. Lurtz nimbly leapt aside and attacked Gimli's flank, but the dwarf parried and then counter- attacked, bringing his huge axe above his head and letting it drop down towards Lurtz. The uruk-hai raised his shield in defence, but the force of the blow splintered and cracked the shield. It fell apart in Lurtz's grip.
Roaring in rage, the orc attacked again, raining hammer-hard blows with his sword at lightning speed. Gimli parried and dodged, then swung his axe directly at Lurtz's stomach. The uruk-hai howled and fell back, his stomach ripped open. Before the orc could do anything to defend himself, Gimli brought the axe down with amazing force onto the head of Lurtz. His skull cracked and splintered, and the leader of the uruk-hai and Sauron's army fell dead.
The uruk-hai who witnessed the event panicked and fled, yelping and snarling.
Legolas winced in pain as Gimli rushed to his side, "Master elf!" he cried, "You are hurt! Lie still!"
Without warning, he yanked he arrow out of Legolas' shoulder. The elf screamed in pain, as the barbed arrow had yanked out a lot of flesh with it.
Legolas winced again, but then he looked behind Gimli and his eyes widened, "Master dwarf, I fear this may be our last stand".
The uruk-hai had rallied again, followed by many orcs of Mordor and Moria.
The elf sank back and sighed, "There's too many".
Gimli leapt to his feet, "Not while there is room to swing an axe!"
The uruk-hai screamed and rushed at him. The axe swung and two fell back, headless. But more rushed forward and closed in on the dwarf, who fought on, bravely defending his friend to the bitter end.
*** Aragorn rushed up the slopes of Mount Doom, breathing steadily, Andúriel in its sheath. As he reached the opening to the cracks of Mount Doom, he could see flames dancing on the walls and a hideous shadow writhing with them.
He entered Oroduin, and stood before Sauron, who was less than twelve feet away.
Sauron faced him, the flames tinting his armour golden, his robe billowing. Aragorn looked up at the horse-skull helmet, and he was afraid.
The Dark Lord laughed, and Mount Doom seemed to laugh with him, "You are at last afraid, Aragorn son of Arathorn!"
Aragorn nodded, "I am. But bravery is standing up to your fears, not fearlessness".
Sauron seemed to consider this, then he nodded slowly, "I see the line of Kings of Gondor has increased in wisdom. But not so much, otherwise you wouldn't be here".
The Ranger made no reply.
Sauron continued tormenting him, "Are we so different, you and I? You take life when you have to, as do I".
Aragorn spat, "You take life for pleasure".
"Ah, but so do you. Have you not felt the rush of battle, the sheer enjoyment of war and conflict?"
Once again, Aragorn made no reply, because he feared the answer.
The Dark Lord stepped closer, "I can make you great, Aragorn! You can be the Lord of the Western lands, my most trusted lieutenant! You could be magnificent! What say you?"
Aragorn laughed and unsheathed Andúriel, "See this? This is the Sword that was Broken, and has now been reforged. Isildur used it to cut the Ring from you and then fell for your crooked promises and lies. I take not after Isildur, but Elendil the Great!"
"So be it".
Without warning, the Dark Lord swung his mace down at Aragorn, who leapt aside. The ground shook underneath Strider's feet. Sauron swung his mace again in a horizontal arc, and again, and again. Each time Aragorn nimbly dodged him, but he could feel himself beginning to tire with each passing swoop of the studded club.
However, after one huge swipe, the Dark Lord left his chest open and vulnerable. Aragorn seized the chance and leapt upon his chest. Finding a crack in Sauron's breastplate, he thrust Andúriel deep into the Dark Lord's flesh. He could feel the blade go deep past dense slabs of muscle and grate past ribs. Smoke and a burning smell rushed from the wound.
Sauron screamed like a struck animal, and began to swing his mace around in huge, ridiculous arcs. Either by luck or some sense of self-control, he struck Aragorn a minor blow, but it was enough to knock the man off him and to the floor, gasping for breath.
The Dark Lord continued to wield his hammer around madly, dislodging stones from the walls and floor. He soon regained himself and stomped over to Aragorn, his great shadow falling upon him. The Ranger looked up weakly.
"You shall pay for your arrogance!" Sauron roared. He swiped with his mace, and Aragorn lifted his sword up weakly in an attempt to block the blow.
The sword cracked and shattered. Splinters of the blade flew in all directions. Aragorn was left holding only the hilt-shard of the weapon.
Sauron recoiled at the sight of the broken blade. Memories of pain and torturous millennia of being separated from his Ring rushed back to him. Aragorn used the moment of weakness to stagger back to his feet, aching all over, his vision blurred.
The Dark Lord recomposed himself and lunged again, mace high above his bladed helmet as he crashed forward, snarling viscously. Once again he let the hammer fall, and Aragorn dropped to the floor to avoid it.
The Ranger was weak all over, his muscles failing, every movement a torturous one. He tried again to get up, but stumbled and crashed down again. The battle had taken its toll.
Sauron laughed above him, a great, gloating growl of malice as Aragorn coughed up blood. He switched his mace to his left hand and reached down, palm extending, the great black glove reaching for his adversary's throat.
Aragorn summoned up the last of his strength and swung the hilt-shard.
***
"Sixty-three!" Gimli cried as he axed an orc in the stomach. Another goblin rushed at him, drool dripping from its jaws. The axe swung again and it dropped down dead, skull crushed.
But Gimli was exhausted, and the orcs he was facing now were nimble, agile orcs of Moria and strong, brawny uruk-hai. The goblins danced around him, jeering and snapping, darting closer and baiting him, leaping back whenever he moved towards them. But they were tightening the circle. The uruk-hai had little patience for games. They barged through the goblins, sweeping a few heads off in the process with their blades, and attacked Gimli. The dwarf collapsed when one uruk chieftain struck him with his shield. The uruk-hai hollered in triumph.
Suddenly, they looked uncertainly towards Mount Doom. All orcs and other fell beasts turned and quailed. They dropped their weapons and wailed in despair and terror. The Ringwraiths acted swiftly and steered their mounts towards Oroduin, yet even they were afraid.
Gandalff the White climbed a atop a large rock and yelled, "Behold, captains of the west! Now is the time when the Lord of Numéonor reclaims his legacy!"
***
Sauron screeched in pain, a cry of a wounded animal, as his fingers were cut from his hand. They fell like black, pointed raindrops to the floor of Mount Doom, except for one, which had flown especially far. It fell into the cracks of Mount Doom, and merciless golden flames rushed up to engulf it.
The Ring was upon it.
White light crept from crevices in the Dark Lord's armour. It began to gush out, and there was a grinding noise, as if Sauron was being torn to shreds.
Then there was a blinding flash, and Aragorn shielded his eyes. As he did so, there was a cry from the Dark Lord.
"I would have butchered the whole world if only to have made her love me!"
The helmet fell to the floor, empty.
***
Epilogue coming soon!