Chapter Text
Everything was hot, it felt like it was burning through their skin, but there was not a flinch. No flinch as they saw the severed hand of what was once a hobbit, floating in the lava. It was white and wrinkly, clutching something with strength it no longer had. It was actually pretty easy to grab it, though they think a finger might have broken in the process. Not theirs, not their problem.
It was a ring, golden and boiling hot. A red, fiery inscription on it. Not that they could read it. But it was pretty. Slipping it on their finger, they noticed as their skin burned by the heat of the metal, engraving into their skin. But all they did was narrow their eyes, observing it. It was a little too big, barely staying on their pointing finger, so small, yet so precious.
The hand was long lost to the molten rock and fire. Not as if they cared, they got what they wanted.
They twisted their hand, a crack coming in return. It was weird, and out of place. But it was for the best. Starting at their hand, their flesh covered bones, with blood running through the veins, nerves under the layers of skin. The black taint, failing from their fingers and up, barely left room for the small spots of peachy beige of mortal skin. A blink, it was fading, another, it was barely visible, one last, all to see were slim and cold hands. Valar, they were cold.
It felt as if they were standing on an iceberg. Clutching their robe to them, they shook their head. Getting frustrated at the cold brown hair that ended up covering their eyes. Trying to blow it away. But it just got in their eye. It made them give out a noise of displeasure and discomfort, eyes flying up to get it out.
Rubbing the discomfort away, they took a breath, a long waited breath. There was a breeze, they would become sick if they stayed here. They looked up, the shadowed and intimidating silhouette of the Nazgûl staring back at them.
Sauron might have fallen, but a man can only do so much. And evil never leaves completely.
•
Half-elf, that’s what he called them, slightly pointed ears, taller than most, cryptic, but also naive, emotional and not so long lifespan. Why that was the choice, they could not answer. But it was only appearance. Underneath was a monster, a being made by Morgoth, a creature made to obey Sauron and to make everything burn. Hard to imagine, not looking older than, what, a teen? But yet, the memory of thousands of years.
But they were not there yet. Now they had an opportunity, go back, with reinforcements, a greater power of manipulation. Maybe not so far as to the man that called himself king, but maybe a little later. When in the water, that’s why they were cold, they were underwater, or soon will be.
The Nazgûl, or Naz, had been assigned to guide them, watch over top the task was completed. Not too bad, but it was only so much that could be done to keep the little being once an inanimate object entertained.
The nights were something though, at night, there was a cave. It was deep underground and full of water, but not to the brim. They didn’t like it there, it was like a prison. A place with that *thing* would always be a prison. It ran around, talking to itself, talking to them.
“Precious..”
It would call to them, when they didn’t answer, it would scream, hit itself, scold itself, punish itself. It was unbearable. Every night, the same dream, same stupid cave, same routine. Oh how they just wished it would die. Or lose them, or finally hit itself hard enough to just DIE.
There’s thought he would be fun, grabbing them out of the water, fighting for them, killing each other for them. But no, then it was straight to the mountains. They fucking hated it.
One day, when they finally have enough magic, they’ll make sure to STRANGLE IT. Slowly, and painfully. Valar, THEY WANT OU- what was that?
“Goblin food!.. food for Gollum.. goblin is mine..”
In the hurry to get the goblin, Gollum had dropped them. They rolled on the floor, landing deep in the cave, great, now they’ll never get out. But then a pair of hands grabbed them, putting them in their pocket.
•
That was the first time a dream had done that. And it was the first time they mentioned the dreams to Naz, that was a weird breakfast. And they had a feeling they would get weirder..