31. Conversations

"Freedom?" Aragorn blinked, unsure what he was seeing and feeling anymore. His head spun with memories and words and images, and it was hard to discern which ones are his own anymore. He had to grasp the table that the palantír lay upon to steady himself. Through the dizziness, Sauron's voice broke through and sounded in his mind – the words were surprisingly gentle, soothing the headache rather than increasing it.

"Listen to me, Aragorn. Please, listen."

"I have no time to listen to you! Arwen is dying!" he cried out in reply and his voice sounded with exasperation.

"And you are looking for a cure, I know…" Sauron replied. "I have the answers you are looking for."

Now Sauron had his full attention. "What do you want for them?" Aragorn asked coldly.

Sauron did not reply for a moment. They did not fight anymore. Aragorn could feel his presence in the palantír, but did not try to push his will out of it, just like Sauron did not struggle to take control over it – he never did, Aragorn realized. Sauron just fought him because he tried to push him out, he did not fight for mastership of the stone like he did before, only for Aragorn's attention.

"Just listen to me… please," he replied finally.

"It seems I have no other option," Aragorn retorted wryly, with increasing impatience.

"I'm sorry for that…" Sauron replied, and the words sounded surprisingly genuine.

Aragorn noticed that as well, and sighed softly. "Very well. What is this all about?"

Sauron was silent again, as if gathering his thought – as if it this talk would be too important to him, and he was preparing for it for years. Aragorn could see a pale picture in the palantír – the memory was unclear and blurry, but it seemed to be a happy one. There were several figures at work in it, and the power emanating from them suggested it were Ainur.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," Sauron spoke quietly. "Arda was young, and the sky was blue. The clear lakes in the mountains gave birth to small streams that found their way through the mountain gaps. Over the river and through the woods, we could walk for days and greet the rowans and hawthorns, or follow the river littered with smooth stones until its mouth to the sea, where the clouds gathered to pour their rain above the land. We were builders and gardeners of the new-born world.

But I was not content with that. My lord Aulë was content with building the face of Arda together with his brothers, not taking more from it than he needed for his works. It was new. And already it was… unorganized. Unpredictable. I wanted more control… The mesmerising towers of mountains and depths of abysses. It felt like infidelity to let the plants and wind and water erode them, to create and then let all creations on their own without a ruling hand. Arda needed to be ruled, classified and ordered, it needed a firm hand, the hand of a ruler.

That was when He came to me. His words were wise. He understood my thoughts, understood my desires. He led me to a point from where there was no turning back. It was like a cliff, and I was afraid, looking back to where my master Aulë worked his forge. If he would have looked at me in that moment, if he would just call my name, I would have turn back. But he did not. We stood on a cliff, and Melkor gave me his hand.

We jumped…

Yes, I followed him, abandoning my old master. What I wanted was order. There is order and law even in destruction… But the cascade of events that started with a small hobbit, led to my destruction instead. Barad Dûr fell for the second time, and it will not be rebuilt anymore. Years will pass, and slowly, plants will cover its dark stones. Dogwood will blossom on the ruins, and people will forget… Maybe some new evil will come, who can say? For Arda is marred, and the Children of Ilúvatar can't live in peace for long. Others paint their tales upon her canvas now. May it be."

"Why?" Aragorn asked suddenly. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I… want to tell you what it meant to me…" Sauron said slowly. "Maybe I, for some reason, came to believe that you could understand. Ironical, isn't it?"

When Aragorn didn't reply, he continued anyways.

"I'm sure you remember the day when my Ring was destroyed. A new day dawned for you. But for me, it was night again, a long night of the soul. I was free of the ring, but in that freedom, I was nobody anymore. It took me years just to remember my name, to gather my thoughts enough to see clearly. Still I thank you, Heir of Isildur, you and your companions. You accomplished what you forefather could not. He could have freed me, but instead, he let himself be enslaved…"

Aragorn still said nothing, and Sauron continued.

"It was like burning alive… But cleansing in the same time. I think it was the same for the creature… Gollum."

Now Aragorn nodded slowly.

"And the hobbit's names were Frodo and Sam, right?" Sauron smiled a little sadly.

"Indeed…" Aragon looked surprised by the fact that Sauron would be interested in the names of the hobbits.

"You did a good job in turning my attention to yourself. Sam and Gollum were fighting in the very heart of my realm, and I did not see it…" he paused. "I am glad Samwise Gamgee didn't kill him…"

"You are?" Aragorn couldn't help himself but ask.

"Yes, I am… although it took me years to realize it. It saved me from being a slave to my own Ring again. "

Aragorn nodded slowly, but he was getting impatient. "Please… could you just tell me how to cure Arwen? I will return and listen to your tale if you do. Just please, tell me…" Desperation sounded from his voice.

"You won't…" Sauron sighed almost inaudibly.

Aragorn blinked at the resigned certainty in those words. "I can give you my word of that," he said.

"Do not give a word you cannot keep," Sauron answered with another sigh. "Well, I guess I cannot want more from you. Watch, then…"