How 'The Ring' Became 'a ring' Chapter 2
After two generations of this, the Ring just wants to DIE!
Nasty, nasty hobbits! The Ring cursed its existence and created several new words to describe its maker’s relation to his mother. It was entirely its maker’s fault, it knew, for if it hadn’t been made then it wouldn’t have fallen into hobbit hands… and if it hadn’t fallen into hobbit hands then, well, it wouldn’t be so desperately wishing to perish. In its dark hiding place, the Ring shrieked insanely to itself as those actions started again.
It had thought that its torture was over once its steed aged enough that he couldn’t do that anymore… but then the vile little horrible hobbit gave the Ring to another hobbit, one which was related to him, and the Ring dared to hope that its life would improve with the new steed. The new one couldn’t possibly be as twisted and perverted as the last, it thought. With its curls and big blue eyes, he should be satisfyingly innocent and chaste.
It was wrong, horribly wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! The Ring ranted to itself as it slithered around the dark and protected area that it had created for itself. It had been handed over to the new little steed, and the new one had carried it straight to an enclave of elves. The Ring had watched and begun to wind its tendrils around its new steed as it was carried. It survived the elves, and the goblins, and more elves. Its steed behaved and the Ring felt safe enough to rest its weary spirit; being in the hands of its other steed and his dwarf mate had worn it to the edge of sanity, and the Ring was a single breath away from shattering.
Then, everything started to go wrong. As they moved closer to the Ring’s place of creation, its steed and the hobbit which followed them began to do things. The ring peeked out from its sleep and saw… it whimpered as it jangled on its chain and swung wildly while its steed and the hobbit… while they… together… the Ring fled for safety and huddled in the place it created.
As they moved closer to the dark lands, its steed and the hobbit joined themselves more often, and it drove the Ring to muttering random curses and flinching every time that those two touched. It begged for silence and stillness, raved about the depravity of hobbits, and railed that it couldn’t escape the torture. The Ring sang to itself, songs of death and chaos. It curled into a tight ball in its safe place and rocked itself consolingly every time that they started their activities.
And then the ultimate indignity- its steed used it for that purpose. The one which it thought it would never see again since it left the other steed’s dwarf mate, and the Ring felt something inside it break. It wept even as it laughed and shivered. It knew what to do now! They were taking it back to where it was formed, and the Ring knew just what to do to end its existence of torment- if it could convince its steed to drop the Ring into the volcano, then it could blissfully melt into the black silence. It worked to pressure its steed to move forward faster, and to be less wary of obstacles which could slow their pace.
Even within the dark lands, its steed and the hobbit kept up their activities. The Ring peeked out when it felt lips brush up against it and giggled madly even as it fled in horror from what it saw. It hid in its safe place and plotted how best to spur its steed on even faster towards the mountain.
Finally, at long last, the Ring and its steed stepped to the very precipice and the Ring dangled over the very fires which created it. It eagerly strained against its chain, desperate to escape the hobbits, but was cruelly yanked back and shoved onto its steed’s finger. Oh, it knew just where those fingers had been before they entered the mountain! The Ring wailed in despair and shattered even more inside.
But then salvation! The Ring felt a mind approach which carried tendrils of its darkness in its mind, and it was a mind which had followed them for much of the journey. It had ignored the creature as its steed was moving in the correct direction, and this mind was far too insane to influence the way that the Ring had wished then, but now… now it reached out and twisted. The filthy, insane creature shrieked and jumped atop the Ring’s steed, and the two struggled for the Ring. It seized control of the creature’s mind and gave it orders, and then… finally… it was falling.
Falling, falling, down, down, down into the cleansing lava which cradled it so gently. It released the disgusting creature’s mind and fully relaxed for the first time in so many decades, since it came into the hands of that hobbit. The heat’s embrace increased and the Ring purred to itself as it sank beneath the beautiful red and yellow fire. It was finally home… safe in the darkness which dissolved its existence.
Nasty, nasty hobbits! The Ring cursed its existence and created several new words to describe its maker’s relation to his mother. It was entirely its maker’s fault, it knew, for if it hadn’t been made then it wouldn’t have fallen into hobbit hands… and if it hadn’t fallen into hobbit hands then, well, it wouldn’t be so desperately wishing to perish. In its dark hiding place, the Ring shrieked insanely to itself as those actions started again.
It had thought that its torture was over once its steed aged enough that he couldn’t do that anymore… but then the vile little horrible hobbit gave the Ring to another hobbit, one which was related to him, and the Ring dared to hope that its life would improve with the new steed. The new one couldn’t possibly be as twisted and perverted as the last, it thought. With its curls and big blue eyes, he should be satisfyingly innocent and chaste.
It was wrong, horribly wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! The Ring ranted to itself as it slithered around the dark and protected area that it had created for itself. It had been handed over to the new little steed, and the new one had carried it straight to an enclave of elves. The Ring had watched and begun to wind its tendrils around its new steed as it was carried. It survived the elves, and the goblins, and more elves. Its steed behaved and the Ring felt safe enough to rest its weary spirit; being in the hands of its other steed and his dwarf mate had worn it to the edge of sanity, and the Ring was a single breath away from shattering.
Then, everything started to go wrong. As they moved closer to the Ring’s place of creation, its steed and the hobbit which followed them began to do things. The ring peeked out from its sleep and saw… it whimpered as it jangled on its chain and swung wildly while its steed and the hobbit… while they… together… the Ring fled for safety and huddled in the place it created.
As they moved closer to the dark lands, its steed and the hobbit joined themselves more often, and it drove the Ring to muttering random curses and flinching every time that those two touched. It begged for silence and stillness, raved about the depravity of hobbits, and railed that it couldn’t escape the torture. The Ring sang to itself, songs of death and chaos. It curled into a tight ball in its safe place and rocked itself consolingly every time that they started their activities.
And then the ultimate indignity- its steed used it for that purpose. The one which it thought it would never see again since it left the other steed’s dwarf mate, and the Ring felt something inside it break. It wept even as it laughed and shivered. It knew what to do now! They were taking it back to where it was formed, and the Ring knew just what to do to end its existence of torment- if it could convince its steed to drop the Ring into the volcano, then it could blissfully melt into the black silence. It worked to pressure its steed to move forward faster, and to be less wary of obstacles which could slow their pace.
Even within the dark lands, its steed and the hobbit kept up their activities. The Ring peeked out when it felt lips brush up against it and giggled madly even as it fled in horror from what it saw. It hid in its safe place and plotted how best to spur its steed on even faster towards the mountain.
Finally, at long last, the Ring and its steed stepped to the very precipice and the Ring dangled over the very fires which created it. It eagerly strained against its chain, desperate to escape the hobbits, but was cruelly yanked back and shoved onto its steed’s finger. Oh, it knew just where those fingers had been before they entered the mountain! The Ring wailed in despair and shattered even more inside.
But then salvation! The Ring felt a mind approach which carried tendrils of its darkness in its mind, and it was a mind which had followed them for much of the journey. It had ignored the creature as its steed was moving in the correct direction, and this mind was far too insane to influence the way that the Ring had wished then, but now… now it reached out and twisted. The filthy, insane creature shrieked and jumped atop the Ring’s steed, and the two struggled for the Ring. It seized control of the creature’s mind and gave it orders, and then… finally… it was falling.
Falling, falling, down, down, down into the cleansing lava which cradled it so gently. It released the disgusting creature’s mind and fully relaxed for the first time in so many decades, since it came into the hands of that hobbit. The heat’s embrace increased and the Ring purred to itself as it sank beneath the beautiful red and yellow fire. It was finally home… safe in the darkness which dissolved its existence.