Dark Lord Appreciation Day

in which everyone inexplicably survived, and something happens on St. Valentine's Day that actually didn't in the book/movie

Lily Lindsey-Aubrey

Disclaimer: We do not own. No one gave us the right. But we loves the preciousss so we shall write about it anyhow. Haters gonna hate. We also loves the Witch-King. And we loves the Dark Lord Sauron, too... and especially Smeagol.


The mess hall was loud; so loud that the Witch-King cringed upon opening the door. But he went in, avoiding the puddles of spilled beer and the flying mugs and plates. He walked straight to the counter, climbed up on top of it, and cleared his throat. This doing nothing to lessen the noise, however, he was forced to resort to a more attention-grabbing approach.

'SILENCE!' he yelled.

The noise died down after a few last spasms, and he nodded in thanks.

'I've interrupted your well-earned festivities for a reason,' he began. 'I will try to be brief, for your sakes and mine. Tomorrow is a holiday among those of lesser importance than ourselves; namely Elves, Men, Wizards, Hobbits, and sundry. They call it Valentine's Day, and on it do such appalling and blood-curdling things as send each other sappy notes-' (a 'boo' from the audience) 'flowers-' (another louder 'boo') 'and chocolates.' (Loud cheers erupted at this point.)

The Witch-King waited for the noise to quiet before continuing. 'Obviously, the Dark Lord Sauron does not condone such practices. We will, of course, not engage in them. However...' he paused impressively. 'he has decided to create an alternate holiday. It's to be called "Dark Lord Appreciation Day", and tomorrow, instead of being sappy and insipid like our self-righteous counterparts, we will write notes of appreciation to our most kind, most gracious, and most endearing overlord. We will send him gifts; gems, mithril, whatever you have that is worthy of him. We all love our Dark Lord; let's show him how much!'

There was a spattering of half-hearted applause, and the Witch-King descended from the counter.

'That went better than I expected,' he commented to his right-hand Nazgul, as they made their way back towards Barad-dur. 'To be honest, I wasn't sure how the Orcs would take Sauron creating a National Holiday celebrating himself.'

'I was a bit taken aback myself,' said the Mouth of Sauron, joining them. 'He's getting a little desperate for funds, I suppose.'

'There are better ways to go about getting funds,' the Witch-King grumbled. 'Raise taxes; capture traders from Harad; the list goes on.'

'I hear you,' said Sauron. 'Are you complaining about my methods?'

'No, milord,' said the Nazgul wearily, rubbing his forehead. 'It makes no difference to me. I'm just not sure it will work.'

'We shall see,' said Sauron, casting his gaze across the dark forbidding land. Then he sighed. 'Do you think any of my subjects like me, Witchy?'

'I like you, your Dark Lordship,' said 'Witchy's' right-hand Nazgul. The Witch-King unceremoniously clunked him on the head. 'I'm sure everyone adores you,' he said, 'although you've been giving them a lot less free time recently... (hint hint).'

'Why can't my Orcs just love me for who I am, instead of what I do?' complained Sauron. 'That seems kind of petty.'

Ooh child, things are gonna get brighter...

The group turned to look at each other. 'Oh, my phone,' said the Witch-King, blushing. He was rather proud of his new phone. 'Hello?... oh dear... I'll tell Lord Sauron immediately. Yes, I'm with him now... do you think we'll need a physician on standby?... In case he has an emotional breakdown or something!...Alright, if you think it's safe. Right. Goodbye.'

'Who was that?' asked Sauron, rather nervous.

'That was Thri. He says that the Orcs are refusing to cooperate with our holiday arrangements.'

'Nobody loves meeeeee!' sobbed Sauron, putting out the fire in his eye with the buckets of tears he was shedding. 'All I wanted was to know that my Orcsy-pies loved me, and they dooooooon't!'

'There there,' said the Mouth. 'I'm sure they'll realize what a nice person- eh, Maia- you are eventually.'

'You guys are the only ones who care,' Sauron sniffled. 'No one else understands meeeeeee!'

Nazgul Wun pulled out a hardly sufficient handkerchief and handed it to him. 'We will leave you to your woe,' he said, 'but rest assured our empathy remains with you.' He and the others slowly made their way back down the spiraling stairs.

'I feel so bad for him,' the Witch-King sighed. 'I wish I could help him somehow. All he wants is a little love.'

'We can still send him notes of appreciation,' suggested the Mouth. 'We and the other Nazgul.'

'So we could!' said Witchy, brightening. 'We can organize and appreciation ceremony; we'll have the Dead Ringers perform a piece for him, and we'll give him a medal of honour for being most- most- most something Maia of all.'

'Most unloved?' said Wun.

The Witch-King clunked him on the head again. 'You're not helping,' he said.

'Well, first thing I'm going to do is try to reform the Orcs,' said Mouth. 'I have quite a bit of sway over them. They like me a lot.'

'Good. You do that,' said the Witch-King. 'Wun, you go round up the Dead Ringers and practice your piece. I'll start forging notes of appreciation from various people. Let's do this thing!'

The trio dispersed to do their tasks, hoping to help their beloved Dark Lord feel a little less angsty.


The next day, Sauron was surprised to wake up with pink streamers and red confetti everywhere. 'What's going on?!' he yelled.

'It's Dark Lord Appreciation Day!' said the Witch-King.

Sauron gazed about him in astonishment. His tower had 'We Love You Sauron' graffitied all over it (thanks to the Mouth, who had finally convinced the Orcs to cooperate). In front of him stood eight of his Nazgul, in front of a table cluttered with bells. Even as he was watching, they began to play.

Because you're amazing,

Just the way you are!

they sang as they played the bells. And as they did, the Witch-King began to read off the forged notes.

'Dear Sauron, I love you. You light up my life. Love, Galadriel. Dear Sauron, I miss you. Won't you come and join me? -Melkor.'

The Nazgul, forgetting the rest of that song, switched.

You don't know you're beautiful-ul-ul

That's what makes you beautiful

'Dear Sauron,' Witchy continued, 'You are my inspiration. I wish I was just like you. -Gandalf.'

'I can't take anymore!' sobbed Sauron. 'Everyone is too nice to meeeee!'

Suddenly there was an explosion. Barad-dur crumbled; then sank into a heap of rubble.

As the dust cleared, Sauron slowly picked himself up. Then he lifted his voice to the sky in a great cry of emotional trauma: 'Why meeeeeeeeeee?! Even the Ring I created hates me; it's let itself be destroyed!'

Then, in a small voice, came the words

'We knows, master,' (sniff sniff) 'Smeagol understands.'

And so Sauron and Smeagol sat together making Melkor a Valentine and were friends ever after.


Happy Valentine's Day, Precious! :D