Life. Warmth, vigour, colour taunt me as I am drawn ever deeper into the cold ghost world by my ring. All that I touch is grey, cold, listless. There is no joy in this world.
Living men fear me and shrink from me, lest my touch turn them into wraiths too. But they also obey me, and I have power in the world of the living.
And I have the consolation of the ring. It is precious to me, and I am beholden to it, and to its Master, will I or nill I.
Was I right to take it?
Written for the November 2013 Nuzgûl of the Month Challenge. One of the Nazgûl contemplates whether what he has gained was worth the price.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.