Andagora wrapped her bony arms around the horse's neck and buried her face into the shaggy mane, inhaling deeply. The horse smelled like decaying corpses and old fish, and Andagora could not remember when she's smelled anything sweeter. It had been an entire Age since she'd been out riding, and she already ached to be on the horse�s back, challenging the wind. It had been hard, cooped up for a whole Age with nothing to do. She vaguely envied the Orcs; although they were mortal, they still had the freedom to go about wrecking their mindless havoc. As one of the Nazg�l, she was doomed to overwhelming purpose.

She was always a little miffed about being left out of that silly little poem. It was just another example of chauvinism in her book, and she had been mildly surprised that that bint Galadriel hadn't raised a stink about being labeled an "Elven king" instead of being acknowledged as the queen she was. Not that Andagora particularly cared what Galadriel did. It was none of her concern. Galadriel was an elf, one of those ridiculous creatures who were always floating about contemplating the firmament as though the stars actually meant something. Andagora had never been able to figure out what they were about. They confused her, the elves, so caught up with their esoteric nonsense about good and evil. It was their fault that she had been cloistered up in Mordor so long. If they had just accepted that their rings of power came with a price, none of this idiocy would have happened. Certainly, Sauron would be their overlord, but she had accepted that fate when she accepted her ring. Power over her people, so long as she served the Dark Lord. What was so difficult to understand? But no, the elves had raised a fuss over their pact with Sauron, and, incredibly, her master had lost his ring in the scuffle. Without the concrete certainty of the ring on his hand, without the purpose of serving the master of the ring, Andagora and her fellow Nazg�l languished.

Well, perhaps languished wasn't exactly the correct term. They certainly found ways to keep busy. But it wasn't easy being the only woman in that pack of men. One of them was always making an awkward pass at her.

Not that this ever actually led to anything. It's not easy to flirt when you're partially disembodied, and Andagora was thrilled that she at least stood a chance of getting her whole body back once the ring was found. Of course, that would mean that once they all had their bits and pieces in working order again, they�d probably start putting the pressure on her to pick one of them and quit leading the other eight on. After all, it had been their jealousy that kept them from fighting well enough to prevent the catastrophes of this Age. She had no idea who she could possibly pick. They were all nice enough lads, but if they didn�t shape up and stop ogling her or babying her, they were all going to end up sleeping alone!

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Angmar gazing covetously at her ass. At least, she though that�s what he was doing. The opening in his hood was certainly angled in that direction. Stupid git! He knew there wasn�t really anything under her robe there! She glanced up just enough for the glowing places where her eyes should have been to be visible to him. He sensed her �glare� and, exuding the vague aura of sheepishness, shuffled off to inspect his own death horse. Andagora would have smiled, if she could, and buried her face into the horse�s mane again.

�That was awfully coy of you,� a startling voice behind her said. The voice was startling because it made even the black language of Mordor sound lyrical. Andagora was too mild-tempered and well-trained to jump or yelp. She had been the recipient of too many nasty surprises over the past Age for such childishness. Instead, she turned coolly to face the only person this lyrical newcomer could be.

�Well, Gayawen,� she rasped. �After more than an entire Age of this nonsense, I�m finally going to get my body back. I don�t want the same sort of . . .troubles to occur this time. I don�t want to encourage them.�

Gayawen smiled, her lips thinning and twisting into something of a grimace. �At least their showing you some . . . attention.� She wrapped her thin arms around her chest, shivering a little in the dank cavern. Even after all those years in Mordor, Gayawen had never truly accustomed herself to the climate, but Andagora knew there was more than the chilly air on Gayawen�s mind. When she saw Gayawen arch her brows and look carefully into the direction of the stair, she merely gave a slow, barely perceivable nod.

�I rather fancy a cup of Tension Tamers,� Gayawen said lightly. �It�s not exactly warm down here.�

�Ooh,� rasped Andagora a little more girlishly. �Isn�t that the stuff that comes in the box with the dragon? I haven�t had any of that in so long.�

�Yeah, Sauron likes it. Calms him down, you know, plotting being tedious thing that it is. I�ve just had the orcs bring in an entire case of the stuff. Care to join me?�

� I believe I will.�

They could both feel the eyes of the Nine following them up the stair.