Scrolls of Knowledge by Raiyana

Revelations

Another scroll, another tome, and yet more reams of vellum and parchment and paper, and still nothing to either quiet the terrible foreboding that had permeated his whole being since that night in the Shire or make his fears realised in truth. Memory niggled at the edge of perception, of things he had once known but since forgotten, knowledge fading with the passing of centuries like mortal years. 

If only he could remember what it had said, the scroll he sought among these dusty stacks, if only. 

If only what he so dreaded to find true could be put to rest, his mind soothed with knowledge like a lullaby to a frightened child awaking in the deep shadow-haunt of night.

It was not to be.

The scroll unrolled with the creak of old vellum, but the ink had faded only slightly in the millennia since it had first been penned, the sigil of Isildur clearly shown on the seal affixed to the bottom, faithfully copied by later hands who had signed their names into the annals of history in Gondor. 

And the memory that had beckoned burst forth from its chains of time, showing a great glorious terror rising once more. 

The fires of Mordor called, Mount Doom's heat echoing in words transcribed into a band of text his fingers trembled to follow, mouthing the words as he went but daring no voice to give them. 

The Lord of the Rings... returned, reunited with his greatest creation, revealed once more in his desires to dominate all life. 

A chilling thought, a revelation that shook him to the core. It could not be – and yet how could it not...

Mithrandir cursed loudly, abandoning the mess of papers with nary a glance back.

Proof. He needed proof, a warning to be shared with the Wise but not uncautiously given. 

And the proof was in the Shire.

Where he had left the One Ring with a Hobbit.