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The power of the Ring	By : Satyr Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 57980 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
Chapter contributed by : VladimirHarkonnen

Caradhras was cruel and cold, it was a concept that was easy to voice. It was much more challenging to face, when Arwen was carrying Frodo on her back, all sense of their keen sexuality banished by the Ring's overawed aspect relative to the much more powerful and potent malice of the Mountain itself in its own sphere. The rest of the journey after Arwen's molestation at the hands of the Warg had not been dreadful, just the mundane reality of crossing to the foothills of the Misty Mountains and then in them. The Orcs were silent, awaiting their time beneath the mountains in the abortive Dwarven colony that had tried and failed to resurrect Khazad-Dum of yore. Caradhras was a jealous god, avenging the sins of those who tried to match its potency unto the third and fourth generation.
Saruman's voice was audible on the wind, yet the voice of the White Wizard was less relevant than that of the malice of the jealous mountain itself, a force for wrath and for ruin, biting colds and frosts, winds that sliced through flesh to the very marrow of the bone and the soul. For three days and four nights the Fellowship strove against Caradhras but the howling winds and monstrous Presence overwhelmed them. Caradhras defeated them, and they turned down south, leaving the snows and howling wind and the mocking voice of Saruman of Many Colors.
When they'd left the snowlands and were amidst the trees, Boromir glared at Gandalf.
"Now what?"
Gimli laughed and said "Are you still so unwilling to avoid the hospitality of my dear cousin Balin?"
Gandalf frowned.
"You know why I am thus resistant, Gimli. We have had this conversation a score of times."
He frowned and the majesty and power latent in his frame was like that of a thundercloud. They journeyed south, and there another set of Wargs sought to ambush them. Gandalf, having very little time for any of this and frustrated at the ease with which the forces of the dark powers continued to hunt and to pursue their quarry raised his staff, his eyes seeming to crackle and glow with Power:
Naur an edraith ammen!
Naur dan i ngaurhoth!
As on Caradhras, so in the forest but moreso, the trees were set alight and the fur of the Wargs was likewise, the monsters fleeing with yelping screaming howls unnaturally akin to that of a being of thought and of speech.
In the wake of this confrontation and the relative gap of peace from the forces of the Outer Darkness did the Fellowship steal into the shadowy places near the mines of Moria. By then they were all relieved to have a chance to sit outside its gates, and the Ring thus used the focus of Gandalf on the door to ensure that its beguiling influence spread through the Fellowship, all but one of whom were thus inclined to neglect that in the shadowy exterior of the gateway to Moria the eyes of Frodo and Arwen glowed with a spectral green glow not unlike that of the Morgul-vale.
The waters began to boil as a thing that was sleeping was roused not merely by the presence and low whispers and beguiling sorcery of the Ring itself, and its tendrils began to surge up. The Watcher was once one of a set of strange entities of which there were others like it that were much more swollen and monstrous. They gnawed on the very material fabric of the world like the spawn of Ungoliant but they were stronger, creatures that were there when the Music of Eru began to be sang and sought to bar them beneath the immensity of the world.
Refusing to accept the verdict they gnawed and wormed their way through the fabric of such creation, Things older than the Ainur, things as old as Illuvatar or moreso.
But one of their number had gone up before the creature in the waters outside the gates of Khazad-Dum. She had been a thing akin to the arachnid and she had become transformed into a thing of Unlight that had devoured the Trees and left her brood to infest the shadowy places of the world. The Watcher was an immense thing, but it was a runt by its kind and it was not acting from sight, precisely, so much as sensing Presence.
Listening to Gandalf's droning onward, Frodo spoke "It's a riddle. Speak 'friend', and enter!" Gandalf spoke the word "Mellon" and the door began to open. Then the tendril surged out, and it grasped for Frodo only for Arwen to raise her sword and slice at it. A rumbling hiss shook the exterior and the tendrils lashed out, grasping Arwen and pulling her to them. The tendrils began to run through her clothes, up and down through them, entering into her mouth, not at all deterred by her biting and thrashing, and her eys bugged out when two of the tendrils jammed into her pussy.
Arwen's struggles were aided by both the power of the Ring through Frodo, the power of Gandalf that launched rays of fire, and the swords, arrows, and axe of the Fellowship. The creature did not pump semen into her for it was not that sort of monster, but it did spread a kind of slime over her and through her, the slime burning her slightly, and corroding her clothes slightly, though the wetness and the friction from the tendrils did as much as the slime did.
When the creature dropped her she fell into the water but was able to pull herself out of it, and by then the creature surged out again, the doors of Moria struck with power and force that led to their crumbling into rock. Aragorn saw his woman with her clothes torn and wet, leaving a surprising amount of her flesh visible, Arwen whimpering and shivering. The green glow was gone, the Watcher having disrupted for a time the power of the Ring over her, and the awareness of just what she'd been doing began to hit as Arwen fell to her knees, crying.
She'd been horrid, unfaithful to her lover. Not just with this thing, with a Warg, with.....with the creature Gollum, with....with Frodo and Sam. Aragorn took her aside, the two of them staring at each other. For a time the pressures of everything was forgotten, the Ring calming itself and while it sought to return to Sauron, decided to enjoy briefly the result of its power dispelled for just a short time.
Aragorn caressed Arwen's cheek as she said:
"I'm sorry."
"You're....not fading."
She looked down.
"That's a fairy tale we tell our children so they'll stay away from Orcs. If rape killed us, my Aunt Aredhel would never have been able to survive her encounter with the Dark Elf."
She sighed.
"It's not something Quendi like to talk about much, really."
As she slipped out of her clothes and used an incantation to set them to drying and repairing, a brief one that worked with great effectiveness, Aragorn's eyes roved along her body ,and he smirked and then removed his own clothing.
"Here, my love?"
Arwen's eyebrow raised as she flushed slightly. The horrible aspect about what happened was that physically, at least, she was aroused, and this meant that when Aragorn seized her in a passionate kiss it was easy to yield. So too was it that her guilt and shame and self flagellation made it still easier, their bodies pressed against each other with that intensity of their first kiss, the fires that coursed through her veins molten. She wanted to remember and to focus on it more than she did but it was a thing of fragments, their kisses, her hands pushed behind her body, Aragorn's hands pawing her tits, squishing and kneading them, massaging her tits.
Aragorn's hands along her belly, his erection tapping between her legs, wher a puddle of her juices had already gathered.
Aragorn smiled as he thrust into her swiftly, the two of them frantically together, hands groping along each other, kisses, a rutting animalistic passion, her orgasms muffled with deep tongue-kisses, his own muffiled likewise, and then his climaxing inside her with her fourth orgasm, the two of them on top of each others' sweat-drenched bodies, breathing a sigh of relief and mutual affection.
It was then that as the two began to redress, Arwen heedless after being publicly molested in front of the entire Fellowship that her clothes had tears that exposed parts of her breasts, stomach, and that her breeches had been torn to be above the knee, that the Ring's power extended outward again. By then Gollum had found a hole in the fallen rocks just enough to slip through and Aragorn was heedless of the green glow in his paramour's eyes.
All he saw was that Arwen's eyes had hypnotic green irises, and his breath was once again taken by her beauty.
"Come my love," she whispered in a low and sultry voice "We have a kingdom to cross. May we meet friends and not a cemetery."
He nodded, and by then the rest of the Fellowship had taken stock and preparations, ready for the labyrinth of Moria. With a determined nod, putting aside from them the Wargs, the Watcher, and the strangeness of what was facing them, they set out into a darkness illuminated by Gandalf's staff, which cast a cold clear light like having the guidance of a full moon beneath the mountain.
- 6
- 7
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The power of the Ring