Post by Admin on Apr 6, 2022 1:59:01 GMT
Author: Cassie Hughes
Rating: K
Summary: If the one ring had a mind…
Sharp wind sliced through travel worn cloth to infiltrate already aching bones and freeze the blood sluggish in veins over weary and frost bitten. It would not take much longer, the tainted token felt. Held within the confines of the silver fetter around the neck of its current unwitting host, malign influence brought to bear on the being who for now held sway over their fate the innocuous looking ring champed at the bit to be made whole once more.
Made sentient to allow for chance separation and imbued with the singular need to return to he who gave it birth the ring would know no peace, would use any means within its power, any enticement, even to the death of the one who held its custody, until it had fulfilled the incessant demand clawing at its very core.
The world shifted and changed as the chain from which it dangled lurched with the restless turning of their host. Ramping up the innate effort to twist the small being's thoughts, the ring would have gleefully rubbed its hands if such appendages were theirs to own. The gaud revelled in its mischievous malevolence, soaking up torment and pain as if it were the sweetest nectar ever to touch needful tongue. That it had been passed to such a line of insignificant creatures in part riled yet also pleased as disdain fed complacency and lust for power quickened within its hard shell. The dark song that had brought it into existence swelled and allowed further penetration into the hobbits will, swamping all despised bright colours of love and hope in deepest mire, pushing aside light until all were covered in the blackest, thickest shroud.
Oh, how it gloated then. Allowed a momentary lull whilst memory carried it back to creation. To heat and flame, the sinuous flow before transformation. Cooling amidst the vacillation of power. So much power. And greed. Greed for knowledge, for domination, for dominion. Burned into its very existence by a master vastly terrifying yet utterly loving and tender it could do naught but obey. It knew its beauty and worth, understood its purpose and glowed bright with devotion under it’s maker’s stern gaze. And when placed at last on that fell lords finger felt a completion it ever yearned for anew.
Cursed be the one who had severed that sublime connection and indeed accursed he had been as vengeance had been swiftly taken. Forced to hide then, to delve deep in the rocky river bed, it had lain until awakened once more by the tug of a will it could no more refuse than take flight. Not yet at full strength but potent enough to stir the rings inbuilt desire for reunion it was enough to reawaken need and assure discovery. Death sealed the compact once more and the ring exalted in its re-emergence, thriving upon the opportunity for reunification only to be dashed down with the realisation that he who now bore it were a mere worm in the cycle of life. Hidden away, pawed and kept secret in dark places it held it’s fire once more until a way out was discerned and seized upon. Its song whispered slyly to new ears, captivating and alluring, thus ensuring escape from the miring depths of oblivion.
Waiting had been a torment, biding time as a mere amusing trinket, a parlour trick to be used on a whim a misery, but now, as its master had finally come into his own once more the wait was almost over. Anticipation would have made the ring shiver if it were animate.
The chain moved again, tucked away by fingers grimed and raw from wild living but the Ring did not care. It needed not to be seen, only heard and knew to what each would listen. Every step took it closer to its goal and once there, ah, once there what glory there would be. What blissful reunion.
Reaching out once more it studied the minds of those accompanying its young host, rifling through memories, plucking out the tasty morsels it could use to ensure it reached its goal. The Maia it left alone for the present. That one would need speed and cunning, unexpected attack when least expected. It flinched also from the elf. Bright and pure of heart it could gain no leverage, find no temptation within a mind filled with such love, compassion and joy. There was an earthy, solid feel to the dwarf which would need time to penetrate, like water dripping on stone eventually wearing its way through, but the Ring was too impatient, its masters call too strong to spend time on that one for so long. The men however, were different, it knew the minds of men. Knew the things they wished for, the things they held dear. Knew what its master had offered before. Understood what had been accepted and how it had come to pass. There it would find its mark and if a ring could smirk, that would have been the time.
There were two men in the company, and both had been unknowingly delved. The ring could perceive the strength they both possessed and how powerful each would feel with it on their finger, yet a selection need be made. Diabolical tendrils uncoiled and reached with the lightest caresses, touching hidden corners, exploring basest needs until, at last, with the thought of a self-satisfied sigh the choice was made. Never lifting completely its insiduous touch on all, the Ring brought to bear the focus of its dark heart on one and began its campaign.
~Fin~
A/N
*Darkest Desire (English to Orcish Dictionary, Angelfire)
(Not strictly Tolkien but Black speech translations are not easy to find)
Lust = Opash (Desire)
Dark = Burz
est = UUrz
Rating: K
Summary: If the one ring had a mind…
Sharp wind sliced through travel worn cloth to infiltrate already aching bones and freeze the blood sluggish in veins over weary and frost bitten. It would not take much longer, the tainted token felt. Held within the confines of the silver fetter around the neck of its current unwitting host, malign influence brought to bear on the being who for now held sway over their fate the innocuous looking ring champed at the bit to be made whole once more.
Made sentient to allow for chance separation and imbued with the singular need to return to he who gave it birth the ring would know no peace, would use any means within its power, any enticement, even to the death of the one who held its custody, until it had fulfilled the incessant demand clawing at its very core.
The world shifted and changed as the chain from which it dangled lurched with the restless turning of their host. Ramping up the innate effort to twist the small being's thoughts, the ring would have gleefully rubbed its hands if such appendages were theirs to own. The gaud revelled in its mischievous malevolence, soaking up torment and pain as if it were the sweetest nectar ever to touch needful tongue. That it had been passed to such a line of insignificant creatures in part riled yet also pleased as disdain fed complacency and lust for power quickened within its hard shell. The dark song that had brought it into existence swelled and allowed further penetration into the hobbits will, swamping all despised bright colours of love and hope in deepest mire, pushing aside light until all were covered in the blackest, thickest shroud.
Oh, how it gloated then. Allowed a momentary lull whilst memory carried it back to creation. To heat and flame, the sinuous flow before transformation. Cooling amidst the vacillation of power. So much power. And greed. Greed for knowledge, for domination, for dominion. Burned into its very existence by a master vastly terrifying yet utterly loving and tender it could do naught but obey. It knew its beauty and worth, understood its purpose and glowed bright with devotion under it’s maker’s stern gaze. And when placed at last on that fell lords finger felt a completion it ever yearned for anew.
Cursed be the one who had severed that sublime connection and indeed accursed he had been as vengeance had been swiftly taken. Forced to hide then, to delve deep in the rocky river bed, it had lain until awakened once more by the tug of a will it could no more refuse than take flight. Not yet at full strength but potent enough to stir the rings inbuilt desire for reunion it was enough to reawaken need and assure discovery. Death sealed the compact once more and the ring exalted in its re-emergence, thriving upon the opportunity for reunification only to be dashed down with the realisation that he who now bore it were a mere worm in the cycle of life. Hidden away, pawed and kept secret in dark places it held it’s fire once more until a way out was discerned and seized upon. Its song whispered slyly to new ears, captivating and alluring, thus ensuring escape from the miring depths of oblivion.
Waiting had been a torment, biding time as a mere amusing trinket, a parlour trick to be used on a whim a misery, but now, as its master had finally come into his own once more the wait was almost over. Anticipation would have made the ring shiver if it were animate.
The chain moved again, tucked away by fingers grimed and raw from wild living but the Ring did not care. It needed not to be seen, only heard and knew to what each would listen. Every step took it closer to its goal and once there, ah, once there what glory there would be. What blissful reunion.
Reaching out once more it studied the minds of those accompanying its young host, rifling through memories, plucking out the tasty morsels it could use to ensure it reached its goal. The Maia it left alone for the present. That one would need speed and cunning, unexpected attack when least expected. It flinched also from the elf. Bright and pure of heart it could gain no leverage, find no temptation within a mind filled with such love, compassion and joy. There was an earthy, solid feel to the dwarf which would need time to penetrate, like water dripping on stone eventually wearing its way through, but the Ring was too impatient, its masters call too strong to spend time on that one for so long. The men however, were different, it knew the minds of men. Knew the things they wished for, the things they held dear. Knew what its master had offered before. Understood what had been accepted and how it had come to pass. There it would find its mark and if a ring could smirk, that would have been the time.
There were two men in the company, and both had been unknowingly delved. The ring could perceive the strength they both possessed and how powerful each would feel with it on their finger, yet a selection need be made. Diabolical tendrils uncoiled and reached with the lightest caresses, touching hidden corners, exploring basest needs until, at last, with the thought of a self-satisfied sigh the choice was made. Never lifting completely its insiduous touch on all, the Ring brought to bear the focus of its dark heart on one and began its campaign.
~Fin~
A/N
*Darkest Desire (English to Orcish Dictionary, Angelfire)
(Not strictly Tolkien but Black speech translations are not easy to find)
Lust = Opash (Desire)
Dark = Burz
est = UUrz