The air is so brittle it could snap, and if it doesn't, Talion might. No one speaks; what is there to say? A former Nazgul necromancer who just so happens to be able to cheat his own death at any corner would most probably shock anybody, especially if the previously mentioned Black Rider is casually walking through the Resistance encampment as if he didn't just walk out of his own grave. This goes double for those who knew him before this... predicament.
Baranor just stood still, eyes wide and mouth open, transfixed upon the Nazgul. Talion understood. Very few dared to look into his pale face, and even fewer dared to glance into his fiery green eyes, fearing the magic within them. But as much as he tried, he couldn't completely bring himself to stand it. This feeling only intensified when he saw who they had managed to capture.
"...boss?"
"How did you manage to get captured this time, Muzglog?"
Despite almost whispering, Talion's voice seemed to boom with its layered, corrupted texture, penetrating every obstacle, inanimate or otherwise. This, however, made Muzglog happier than anything.
"Boss! You're alive!... I think..."
Despite Talion doing his best not to, an amused smirk appeared on his face as he got on one knee to be on the same eye level as his bound follower.
"How did you end up here?"
The fact that Talion relaxed a little seemed to fill the Uruk captain with pride as he straightened out as much as his bonds allowed.
"We've been holding Mordor so far, only losing Dol-Guldur to the Dark Lord, but the rest is still loyal to you."
Talion frowned at Muzglog, making him shrink down under his impatient glare.
"Did you go deaf since the last time I saw you, or have I not been asking the same question repeatedly?"
"Sorry, boss, it's just that... well... I... might have tripped..."
"Tripped?"
"Yeah, tripped..."
"You don't sound convinced of the story yourself."
Muzglog's face reddened a little as he looked embarrassedly at the ground.
"Well... it wasn't quite a trip, more like a fall..."
"A fall, you say..."
"Morelikeathrow... No, because I was doing a vault over one of the Tarks, you see, big as a mountain, with a head bigger than an Olog, I tell you, and I was..."
"Muzglog, just... stop. You are a terrible liar. You don't have to tell me if you truly don't want to, even though I would argue that you'd still retain the title of the Acrobat even if your fall wasn't on purpose."
"Sorry, boss."
"Don't be, there's no reason for it. Now, let us free you from this predicament, shall we?"
Talion got up from the ground, intending to untie Muzglog, only to immediately freeze in his tracks. Voices... no, not just any voices... Three distinct voices engaged in a heated argument on enemies, getting ever closer to the tent where Talion and Muzglog resided.
"...and how can you be so sure about that?! What if he used some kind of magic to look like him? Have you even thought of..."
"Think of what exactly? It's Talion we're talking about!"
"Boss?"
Talion gave Muzglog a reassuring look as he shushed him down.
"That's okay. Just wait."
"...not to mention the impression it's giving our soldiers!"
The flaps of the tent flew open as a panicked Baranor, an annoyed Idril, and a tired-looking Torvin entered. Before the flaps fell back down, Talion noticed two unidentified soldiers attempting to hide in nearby bushes, no doubt trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. He almost couldn't suppress the urge to smirk.
Baranor opened his mouth but left it hanging when he looked at Talion once more. Idril looked as confused as Torvin.
"Baranor?"
Idril waved a hand in front of Baranor's face, but to no avail. Talion's smirk finally broke through.
"It's improper for a captain to leave their mouth hanging open, Baranor."
That ghostly comment finally broke the trance as Baranor drew his sword and pointed it at Talion's throat with a furious glare.
"You have a lot of nerve, hollow man."
"You've got a lot of nerve to threaten my boss right in front of me, manswine!"
Muzglog's attempts to free himself were stopped by a single Talion's glance.
"There's no need for violence, Baranor. I won't attack unless I have to defend myself."
"And how am I supposed to believe that?"
Baranor's sword made a small cut on the Nazgul's neck, allowing a small stream of blood, as black as night, to flow down the blade. Needless to say, the enraged uruk overlord resumed his violent struggle.
"YOU PINKSKINED INFADEL! I'LL TEAR OF YOUR HEAD AND SHOVE IT SO FAR UP YOU'RE..."
"That's ENOUGH!"
Talion's voice cut through the air like thunder, and like with thunder, tense silence followed. Despite not needing to breathe, Talion let out a slow sigh to calm his nerves before speaking calmly again.
"I've survived for almost a century in the iron prison that is Mordor. I even survived being turned into a Nazgul and thrown into the very heart of Mount Doom. So let me ask you all this. Do you really think that after all that... a plain old steel sword is going to put me down for good?"
Finally, after a moment of hesitation, the sword finally left his neck. Talion smiled a little as he moved behind Muzglog and untied him. The Uruk fell with a clang of his ornamented marauder armor to the ground before pulling himself together and kneeling before the former ranger, still shooting all kinds of ugly looks at the stunned trio.
"What are your orders, boss?"
"First of all, stand up and follow me. All of you."
Talion almost glided to the tent flaps and casually strolled out of the tent into the camp with Muzglog at his side and the three stunned individuals behind, giving a quick look to the bush.
Soldiers around them either scrambled to get their weapons, did their best to imitate Baranor's initial expression, or just spat insults in his general direction. Talion merrily ignored all of this and made his way in the general direction of the camp entrance.
"Muzglog, I need you to gather the rest of the overlords and prepare them for a meeting with the leaders of this..."
"Resistance?"
"Yes, the Resistance. Leave your brother in charge of the fort, however. I don't believe him to be in the ideal mindset for negotiations."
"But boss..."
"Don't even try to cover for him. The last conscious memory I have of your brother is him getting enraged and throwing a caragor off a cliff because the front gate of his fort was creaking."
Muzglog gave a nostalgic chuckle.
"Fair enough. When's the meeting going to be?"
Talion turned on his heel, with the two captains and a dwarf almost running into him. He looked straight at Idril, ignoring Baranor's searing gaze.
"Are you free for a meeting today after sundown?"
"If it's in our camp, then yes, but..."
"Excellent. Muzglog, tell the others not to kill anybody at the very least until the end of the meeting. I'll join you in the meeting. For now, I have a job to do."
"A job?" Baranor asked suspiciously.
"Yes, a job. As loud as the Uruk race can be, they were not the ones who woke me up. When she aided me in returning to this realm, Shelob mentioned that she was dying, whether she meant to say it or not. I plan to see if she is still alive. If worse comes to worst, she at the very least deserves a decent burial. Not to mention that her brood might go berserk on us if we don't strike a deal with them as soon as possible."
Talion started coughing dryly and heavily, followed by a strange quietness broken only by an awkward cough from Torvin.
"You okay, cap'n? That didn't sound too well."
"I'm fine. It's just... I haven't spoken in a while."
Muzglog gave a half-annoyed huff as he slowly started walking towards the city.
"More like half a century. I'll go and prepare everyone."
"May I come with you?"
Idril ran after Muzglog, excited, leaving the rest of her company in silence.
"If you can keep up, tark."
"I'll go and prepare everyone as well. I don't know what you're expecting to get out of this, Ring-wraith, but don't expect us to go easy on you."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Baranor gave Talion one last murderous look and walked away.
"Well, cap'n, it seems like the two of us are going to have to find Shelob on our own."
"The two of us? I didn't expect you to be willing to come with me, Master Dwarf."
Torvin and Talion started walking off, locked in light chatter. Meanwhile, thousands of miles away...
~°•°~
"You cannot be serious, my lady. It's simply impossible."
"And yet he breathes. Maybe, you should have been more diligent."
"I made sure they were all dead. I buried them myself."
"You know your orders. You may not sail West with us for as long as the nazgûl live. Even if just one."
"I do understand you concern my lady, but this punishment seems a bit too harsh. We did allow Celebrimbor to sail West after all, why not her?"
"This is a wastly different situation Mithrandir, however you do not understand the gravity of the situation. This nazgûl is almost completely immortal and ten times more dangerous than the Witch king himself. He cannot be left to his own devices."
A short silence followed.
"Then I will travel with you, Eltariel. I would very much like to meet this nazgûl. That is... If our lady allows it."
Galadriel smiled softly and her smile brightened her surroundings.