My Master, Sauron the Great, bids thee welcome. [he grins wildly] Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?
We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed! Tell your master this. The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return.
Aha! Old Greybeard. I have a token that I was bidden to show thee. [holds up Frodo's Mithril coat and throws it at Gandalf, who stares in horror]
Frodo... Frodo!
Silence.
No!
Silence!
The Halfling was dear to thee, I see. Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. [he looks around, grinning] Who would have thought that one so small could endure so much pain? And he did, Gandalf. He did. Aha!
[Aragorn rides forward]
And who is this? Isildur's Heir? It takes more to make a king than a broken Elvish blade.
[With a yell of rage, Aragorn cuts the Mouth of Sauron's head off]
I guess that concludes negotiations.
I do not believe it! I will not!
