Chapter Five

Gayawen smiled, alone again with her husband. He was in a ridiculously good mood, and she was bound and determined to take advantage of it while it lasted.

You know what I'm going to do first? he asked with a note of satisfation.

"What?"

I'm going to take that fucking git Elrond and drop him directly into the fires of Mount Doom.

Gayawen smirked. "Oh really? That wouldn't be for my benefit, would it?"

Maybe. What do you want to do?

"Oh, I don't know. It's been a while since I was by the coast."

You don't have sea-longing? he asked nervously.

"Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed. "What, I ask you, would I do in Valinor? I couldn't grovel enough for them not to lock me up or something."

Manw� always said he couldn't comprehend evil. He probably would have forgiven me if I'd gone back for judgment after they defeated Melkor. I'm sure he'd forgive you.

Gayawen raised an eyebrow critically. "Are you saying you want me to leave?"

No! No, of course not. I was making an observation. Anyway. . .

"Yeah, anyway . . ." She looked out across the wasteland of Mordor . It always surprised her how much she enjoyed it here, since, like all of her kind, she was bound to the fullness of nature. She had heard that other elves who were brought to Mordor withered and grew sickly before dying in despair. She supposed that was just another thing that made her a freak to her own people.

"I'm glad you came back here."

Well, this is the best place I know to launch a war.

"I meant that I missed you. It was a bit dull rebuilding the place without you. And plus, I missed the one chance I had to see you with a body."

What, as the Necromancer? Trust me, you didn't miss much. It appears I can only take hideous forms now.

Gayawen quickly kissed the fiery eye; she had been doing that a lot lately and her lips were starting to get a little cracked, but she supposed it didn't matter as long as it kept Sauron happy. "You'll always be handsome to me."

I'll never look the way I did when we met again, he pouted.

"Well," Gayawen said a little wistfully. "You were really aiming to impress."

And I impressed you.

"You impressed all of us. But especially me."

I'll never forget the day I found you.

"Oh, really now!" Gayawen protested. "Don't get all mopey and sentimental on me!"

No, he said seriously. I mean it. You were like a vision from the Havens. You were beautiful.

"I was grass-stained and tear-streaked and I had a runny nose."

You were perfect. I saw you and I completely forgot to hate all elven-kind.

"Well, that's awfully sweet of you."

I knelt down next to you and tried to take you into my arms, and you slashed my cheek open with your dagger.

"Yes, well you startled me. I was so upset I didn't even hear you come into the clearing."

You ducked and rolled under my arm and came up with a sword in your hand. Do you remember what you said to me?

"Something about kicking your ass, I think."

You said, "Stay back, I warn thee. For though ye be man or elf, friend or foe, I will kill thee if thou stirest but a foot."

"Oh, please! I never said anything so stupid and flowery!"

Trust me, you did. That's how I knew you were an elf.

"You're kidding me. I said all that nonsense and you fell in love with me?"

Pretty much, yeah.

"Liar."

Well, the fact that you were one hot little warrior-elf was kind of a turn on.

"Weirdo."

Hey, the Dark Lord can have his kinky side.

"Whatever. Lots of people become aroused in life-threatening situations. That's not so kinky."

Excuse me. You were hardly threatening my life there, Gayawen.

"Let's not argue semantics. Let's just say that you were awestruck by my luminous beauty."

I was.

"Please."

Really, I was. That and you interested me. I'd never met an elf that was so "eviscerate first, ask questions later." Especially not during peace-time.

"I was having a bad Age."

Obviously. But you were beautiful. Of course, it took me forever to get you to talk to me about why you were crying.

"Sweetie, that's because you locked me up in Barad-d�r for a month."

OK, but that's when it was all new and pretty, and Mordor was still lush and verdant and you had anything you wanted to eat, and you could go wherever you wanted in the tower, and the view from your room was really pretty, and I made all the orcs be extra nice-

Gayawen giggled. "Yeah, congratulations on not chaining me in the dungeon like all the other elves!"

I was passionately in love with you! How could I chain you up? Don't answer that, he amended quickly, noting the mischief in her eyes. What I meant was how could I lock you up in a dungeon?

"Well," Gayawen said, putting on a 'serious' face. "You were awfully charming. Too charming actually. I didn't really trust you until you started losing your temper with me."

I wasn't used to disappointment. Look, I was really nice to you, like I'd never been nice to anyone else before, and I figured that naturally you'd tell me what was wrong and fall in love with me, seeing as how I was so handsome and everything . . .

"And so modest too!"

Gayawen, I was planning to rule the world. You can't work towards a goal like that and still be modest.

"I suppose not. But honestly, I just didn't trust you then. My own people - all of whom are very nice to look at, you'll admit -"

Yeah, I guess.

"- had just tossed me out of Lothl�rien onto my ass. My own people. And here was some total stranger suddenly so concerned about me. It was a little weird. I mean, why should you care about me when my own mother didn't?"

Your mother was an idiot.

"Hmm."

And anyway, you have to admit that I was charming, wasn't I?

"Oh, very. But the clincher for me was the day you stormed into my room waving your arms and yelling 'For fuck's sake, what's the matter with you, elf?! I've been being so fucking nice to you I think it's killing me! Just tell me what's wrong already!' I couldn't figure out why you were even troubling yourself to find out."

You intrigued me. No one had ever denied me anything, especially not when I was being handsome and charming. And you! You wouldn't even tell me your real name.

"Well, that was the day I told you my name, so you were making progress."

But Gayawen's not your real name.

"It's my name. The only name I choose to acknowledge, anyway. So what does it matter if the elves knew me by another?"

Well . . .

"Well what, Sauron ?"

Hey, now, no fair!

"Actually, yes fair. If you won't tell me what A�le used to call you before Melkor named you Sauron, I'm not going to tell you what the elves called me before I was Gayawen."

You're so beautiful when you're indignant.

"Oh, stop that!"

I mean it. That's what made me fall in love with you. When I stormed into your room shouting, you just said "I'll tell you when I'm good and ready, asshole." No one ever spoke to me like that. Not even Melkor was so brusque with me. I knew in that moment that I had to marry you.

"Oh, well . . ." Gayawen said, softening against her will. "Well, you certainly took your time asking me, anyway."

I wanted everything to be perfect. Besides, aren't you glad we waited until the Temple to Melkor was built?

"Yes," Gayawen said, allowing herself to indulge in some rare gushing. "And it was a beautiful ceremony, wasn't it? With the orc-blood running down the altar like that, and the way the thunder started rumbling just when we were taking our vows? You couldn't plan a moment like that if you tried! I don't mean to complain, sweetheart. I am glad we waited."

You were stunning in your black gown.

"And weren't you handsome in that armor? Hard to hug, naturally, but so handsome."

But I took you in my arms anyway, and when we kissed, lightning struck the Temple. It was wonderful.

"Mmm. It was - Augh! Oh sonuvabitch!"

Lost in the moment, Gayawen had come too close to the eye, and now realized that her dress was a little bit on fire. She picked up the water jug that she normally used to soothe her husband and dumped it unceremoniously on her chest, which went out with a sizzle.

That was close.

"That fucking hurt!" she snapped. "Ugh. Now I have to go change." She stormed across the top of the tower to the door, cursing under her breath. "Fucking, fiery eye . . . "

I'm never getting laid again, am I? Sauron asked morosely.

Gayawen stopped at the top step, turning to glare at her husband. "Not like that you won't! This marriage is really starting to suck!" She turned around and stomped down the steps back to her room.

She passed a few grim-looking orcs and a couple of foot-soldiers on her way down, and managed to keep her composure, but the moment she was in her room, she slammed the door so hard the walls shook.

"Stupid fucking EYE!" she screamed at the offending portal.

"Um, maybe this isn't a good time," a small voice rasped.

Gayawen spun around to face Andagora, who was sitting on the chaise in the corner. "Shit, you scared me! Andagora, what are you doing here? I thought you were currying your death-horse and getting ready to go."

"I did. I mean, I'm done. All I had to do was take care of the horse � I named him Hengest, by the way, reminds me of old times � the boys took care of the rest."

Gayawen laughed, her voice a little strained. "Only you could possibly refer to the deathless henchmen of the Dark Lord of Mordor as 'the boys.' That's so cute."

"Please," Andagora snorted. "That's all they are. Silly boys that are still thinking with the little heads they don't have! Anyway, what happened to you?" She pointed one bony, armored finger at Gayawen's singed dress.

"Sauron happened," the elf sighed. "You guys had better find that ring soon, because I can't take that much more of this flaming eye crap."

"Aww." Andagora rose and gave her friend a comforting, if somewhat insubstantial hug. "Look, I know how hard it can be with him. But you guys are just made for each other. I know it's going to work out in the end. Just hang in there long enough for us to track down this hobbit, and I promise everything will be just fine."

"Thanks, hon," Gayawen sighed. "So, I guess you guys are leaving really soon then?"

"They're all assembled downstairs waiting for me. I just wanted to come up here and say goodbye."

"Well, good luck. Oh!" Gayawen rushed to a carved chest in the corner of the room and rummaged about inside. Finding what she was looking for, she cupped the small object in her hand and held it out to Andagora.

The wraith leaned over to peer into the elf's hand. She sniffed a few times before gently taking what had revealed itself to be a delicate elven necklace, wrought into some complicated interlaced pattern.

"It's, um-" Andagora began.

"I know it's not really your style," Gayawen interrupted. "Too flowery, I know. But it's very special to me. It's mithril, and it was made over three thousand years ago, at the beginning of the Third Age."

"Um, where did you get it?"

Gayawen grinned. "It was Celebr�an's. Elrond had it made for her as a wedding present. I nicked it when the orcs were holding her captive in the Misty Mountains. She was planning to give it to Arwen on her wedding day. Now I want you to have it."

"Oh, Gayawen, I couldn't!" Andagora said, handing the necklace back. "I know how much this must mean to you."

"Please take it," Gayawen insisted. "Andagora, you're my best friend in the world. I want you to have it. It will bring you luck. Here, let me." She fastened it around her friend's neck.

"Thank you, Gayawen. I'll take good care of it."

"Good. Now, go get that hobbit. Wait! Actually, can you explain what a hobbit is first? Sauron said you knew."

"Well," Andagora said. "We got a picture of what one looks like from that Gollum thing's mind-"

"That what thing?"

"Gollum. That little deformed creature they found in the mountains that we got all this information from. We started calling it 'Gollum' because it kept making this weird 'gollum-gollum' noise all the time. I don't know what it calls itself."

"Oh, ok."

"Anyway, after it started talking, we were able to sort of penetrate its mind a little, and we got a pretty good description of what a hobbit is. Actually, I think the Gollum thing was a hobbit once itself. The images of the hobbits were very clear and familiar seeming."

"So what are they like?" Gayawen pressed.

Andagora thought for a moment. "Um, well, they're a little smaller than dwarves, and they don't have beards. They don�t really fight a lot, and they tend to be kind of round because they eat like a millions times a day."

"That's odd."

"Yeah, all they seem to do is grow things to eat. They kind of live like men do in the West, nowadays. Like, they're always drinking ale and dancing and stuff. Oh, and they have these really bizarre feet."

"What's so bizarre about them?"

"They're hugely disproportional to their bodies, and their really hairy and junk. And they never wear shoes."

"Not even in winter? Don't their feet get cold?"

"Apparently not. And they have a thing for riddles. That was really big on the Gollum creature's mind."

"Huh. How come I've never heard of these things before?"

"I don't know. None of us have. Sauron seemed especially unhappy about them."

"Why?"

"Because he never offered them rings."

"Ooh shit."

"Yeah. But don't worry, these things are really small, and I don't imagine they'll give us much trouble. Mithrandir, Gandalf, whatever you want to call him has been with them a lot lately, but we've just received a report that he's on his way to Curun�r's, and that should keep him out of the way."

"Good."

"Yeah. Well, I better be off."

Gayawen hugged her friend one last time. "Good luck. Come back soon!"

"We will!"

As the door slammed behind Andagora, Gayawen flopped into the chaise, leaning back to stare at the ceiling, which was a complicated mosaic pattern. She picked at the singed bits of her dress, lost in thought for a while before slipping into a dreamless sleep for the first time in days.