Humor/Parody of the Dark Lord Sauron who is the property of J.R.R Tolkien. Voldemort is the property of J.K. Rowling. What goes on in Sauron's mind? What does he think of his life once he dies… again…? There are SPOILER ALERTS for The Silmarillion, The Hobbit, and The Lord of the Rings. Warning: Sauron will be very much out of character for reader amusement.
Sauron's Therapy Sessions
A humanoid in dark glistening armor, chain mail and plate mail, walked inside the office. The secretary who sat behind the counter felt the darkness oozing from the being. However, she thought he looked very ridiculous in his armor.
"Good day, sir," She said nonchalantly, "How may I help you?"
"I am here to see the psychiatrist," He replied with a deep, fear instilling voice.
The secretary sighed as she handed him a clipboard, "Just fill this out, hand it in, and Dr. Pelírien will be with you in a moment," She went back to filing her nails. Insolent girl. How dare she address him in such a way! Angered by the petty slip of a girl, he glared back at her. She was chewing on something and making loud smacking noises.
"Just take the clipboard, stupid," She dropped it on the desk, "Oh, and don't even try attacking me. There's a ward there."
Instead of taking the clipboard, the Dark Lord Sauron, scourge of Middle-earth, reached out to grab the stupid girl by the neck and break her spine. Suddenly, in a bright flash of light he found himself sitting on the floor two feet away from the desk. What in the name of Melkor was going on?
"See? I told you," The secretary smirked at him.
Sauron growled and snatched the clipboard with attached pen and sat in one of the chairs. He glanced around to see others snickering at his performance, "Oh, as if you didn't try that?" He sneered. The snickering stopped and the others went back to staring at their own clipboards. Sauron stared at the first word on the paper: Name.
Sweet Melkor, he had so many names, and he used them all at one point or another. So… which one did that Doctor want?
He was once the good Maiar, Annatar until he swore allegiance to Melkor and was renamed Sauron. He was known by another name during the First Age: Gorthaur the Cruel. To trick the stupid Elves, Sauron took on the name Aulendil. He once had influential power on Númenor, and there they called him Tar-Mairon, which was a King's name. The Númenórians also called him Zigûr once they found out he was evil. By the time the battle of the First Age had come, the humans feared his name so much they called him the Dark Lord.
Which of these names should he put on that one question? They were all his names. Frustrated, he tapped the pen on the paper, thinking. What name? Annatar? He had been called that for many millennia until he decided to follow Morgoth. Sauron? It had been his name since he started following Morgoth. The Dark Lord? Eh… not so much, but it instilled fear in those worthless mortals. Gorthaur? That made those flamboyant Elves quiver in fear. Aulendil? Ah! Elvish! Evil, evil name! Kill it! Well, it was still the name of a handsome, powerful, conniving Maiar… hmmmm…Which name?
"What are you looking at?" He sneered. She rolled her eyes at him, and he growled in frustration. He would kill that insolent girl with one swift stroke of a finger if it hadn't been for that stupid ward. He glared back down at the clipboard and started writing down all his names just to annoy the Doctor. Even when he wrote very small, his names still did not fit on the line, so he wrote in the tiny space between the statements.
That in itself was a quest to write. How he hated writing his names in Tengwar, such a tedious language. If he had written it in the Black Speech, very few would have been able to read it since it had been lost after his first fall. Also, speaking the language, to his pleasure, would still make the earth rumble and quiver in fear.
Next was a blank for titles. He also had many titles: the Deceiver, the Necromancer, the Dark One, the Base Master of Treachery, the Lord of Barad-dûr, the Red-eye, the Sorcerer, the Ring-maker… Which should he choose?
He loved all those titles. Many of them had instilled fear in the pitiful mortals who lived in Gondor. He still sniggered at them for their stupid King Isildur who decided it would be better to take the Ring as his own, thus allowing Sauron to live on and regain his former power. Sauron finally decided to write down all his titles to confuse the Doctor even more than he already had with his many names.
The next blank was gender. Gender? Sauron thought. He had always been referred to as a male. However, since he was a Maia did he really have a gender? The Valar had genders, but they chose their gender upon their birth. Did he have the same choice? He could not remember. Annatar had been so long ago. At length, he checked the 'male' box with a question mark after it.
He had no health problems other than being dead. He was immortal and, although his mortal body on Middle-earth had been destroyed, his Maiar form lived on, like that nuisance Olórin whom the mortals and Elves called Gandalf. Sauron may have been defeated on Middle-earth, but he would live on, even if he lived the rest of his immortal life in the Void. That stupid hobbit took his Ring to that stupid volcano and destroyed it, ending Sauron's reign in Middle-earth. Then again, Sauron could never truly be destroyed, and to prove his continued existence he had come to this place was to record his memories with this strange Doctor of the Void.
"Are you finished Mr. Sauron?" The secretary asked.
"Yes, girl," The Dark Lord hissed like his favorite Nazgûl, Angmar, as he handed the clipboard to her.
She glanced over it, "Very well. The Doctor will be with you in a few minutes," The phone rang, "Hello? Oh, yes, Mr. Voldemort's appointment is still on schedule. Yes, I know he's coming in eight pieces. We'll wait until they're all here before we start the session. Of course. Yes. Good bye."
Sauron wondered who this Mr. Voldemort–what a silly name–was and why he was in eight pieces. He was certainly no threat to him; He was the Dark Lord Sauron who made all of Middle-earth tremble in fear at the very sound of his name!
A few moments later, a door appeared on the previously door-less wall, "Mr. Sauron… et. al.," The Doctor called from the new door. Sauron stood to his full height, trying to look intimidating. The secretary rolled her eyes again and the Doctor sighed, "Mr. Sauron, I know you are new here, but we have dealt with many patients with the Vilanious Evillous Extremus disease, or VEE, before, and I have seen it all. You won't be intimidating me any time soon."
If the doctor had seen Sauron's face under his helm, the Doctor would have seen the Dark Lord glowering, "Stupid mortal," He grumbled as he followed the Doctor through the door.
"I beg to differ, Mr. Sauron," The doctor said, "I am not mortal. I have never lived on any planet. I have always lived here in the Doctor's office in Hades."
"Where?" Sauron froze, thinking he was in the wrong place.
"It is also known in your universe as the Void," The Doctor amended.
"Oh…" The Dark Lord never liked feeling stupid around anyone, and he now loathed the Doctor for making him feel that way.
They entered an office with a doctor's couch and a chair farther away from anything else, "Please lie down on the couch and we shall start our session, and don't tear the leather. It cost a fortune and I don't want to replace it again."
Sauron grudgingly obeyed. His legs hung off the end of the couch making him not only look comical, but he felt very uncomfortable. He should have wrung the doctor's skinny, pasty little neck. Hey, why not? Sauron lunged forward to strangle the Eru-be-damned Doctor. Melkor would be proud.
The psychiatrist flicked his fingers, and Sauron's hands immediately froze inches from the Doctor's neck, "I wouldn't try that if I were you. I know all the tricks in the book. Now, lie down and be a good Maia," The Doctor sat in a leather chair next to the bed with a clipboard in hand, "Please take off your helm, Mr. Sauron. I want to see your real face."
"No one has seen my real face except for Master Morgoth," Sauron growled, "This will not change."
"Will I have to force you? Or will you be good?"
Good? He was a Dark Lord. He was the exact opposite of good, "No."
"Very well then," The Doctor flicked his fingers again and Sauron's helm disappeared, "You will be able to retrieve it from the front desk after our session," The Doctor stared at the true face of the Dark Lord Sauron.
He had long flowing ebony hair that was plastered against his head and face from being under the helm for so long. Sauron looked humiliated, "How dare you! Do you know who I am?"
"Why yes," The psychiatrist cut in, "You are the Dark Lord Sauron, aka Annatar, aka…" He went through all of Sauron's listed names, "I believe I have read your horrid Tengwar script correctly?" Sauron growled, "Good," The Doctor then stared at Sauron's eyes, "My, my… you have problems with your eyes."
"What's wrong with my eyes?"
"They're red, and they look like they are literally on fire," The psychiatrist went to his desk and took out a bottle labeled Visine™, "This should do the trick."
"No!" Sauron yelped, jumping off the couch, "I will not have that poison put in my eyes again! The color is natural, I tell you! NATURAL!"
"I see you have encountered this potion before. We shall see where that leads later on," The Doctor put away the bottle of Visine™ and sat back in his chair, "Please, Mr. Sauron, do lie back again," This time the Dark Lord did as the Doctor ordered, "I have yet to encounter a being with VEE who does not have a complex history of symptoms. Shall we start?" The doctor sat in the chair next to the couch. Sauron did not reply, but lie down on the couch, and so the Doctor continued, "Let us start with your earliest memories. Your parents, perhaps?"
"Do you know nothing of the Maiar? We do not have parents. We were created to serve the Valar and," Sauron spat out the next name as if it were a curse, "Ilúvatar."
"Ah, yes, I shall make note of that: Not raised by parents."
"I was born in an adult form you imbecile!" Sauron started to sit up.
"Oh no you don't," The doctor snapped his fingers and magical chains formed around Sauron, strapping him to the couch, "You must finish this session. Otherwise, you'll never take your first step into getting well," Sauron struggled to get loose, but since his powers had been drained when the Ring was destroyed, he had no strength to break this type of magic, "Well, then, Mr. Sauron, what are your earliest memories?" The doctor asked.
"I was Annatar at the time, a servant of Aulë. My life was peaceful and happy, and I could create great crafts using my skills as a smith," Sauron started narrating. A fuzzy image popped in the air as if it was on a screen of some sort, "What is that?"
"Oh, whenever you recall a memory, we are able to watch it unfold like a movie," The Doctor explained.
"What's a movie?"
"Ah, yes, I forgot. You come from a very primitive society," The psychiatrist sighed, "A movie is a moving picture."
"Oh… very well… I shall continue. My happiness ended when the true master, Melkor, arrived at my door. He asked me to make an item for him: A Silmaril. I told him I did not have the same skill as that silly Elf, Fëanor, who originally made the jewels. My craft lay in a different area, ring making, and teaching others the craft of ring making. It was the First Age when he came to ask me again, this time under a guise, to make a weapon for him. I told him I would make this… weapon, which he called Sauron, if he could beat me at an ancient children's card game called 'War.'"
They watched the game unfold on the screen. Behind them, they heard a slurping sound. Sauron turned to see the secretary drinking something from a cup and the other 'misunderstood' characters with, assumingly, VEE watching the memory and eating some sort of white puffy treat, "What are they doing here?"
"Oh, they are always welcome to watch these movies," The Doctor replied.
"What about patient-doctor confidentiality?"
The Doctor shrugged, "There are very few secrets here in Hades," Sauron gave him a blank look and the Doctor corrected himself, "the Void."
"Ah, well, they need to get out."
"Sorry, but I don't have that authority."
"Of all the ludicrous a–"
"What happened during that card game?" The doctor asked.
"Well, needless to say, I lost on a pair of twos. I thought I could weasel my way out of making a weapon, for I had discovered my mistake in challenging Melkor. He's a dirty rotten cheater! Unfortunately, he had already worked his magic. He quite literally had my soul in his hands and squished it. That's when the fight started."
"Who won that fight?"
"Well, it's all kind of fuzzy. I was punched in the head a couple of times. Then he threw me into my nasty looking, grungy fold out couch and put a spell on it," Sauron paused, slightly embarrassed as the screen showed a brown couch with several sooty black stains on it, "It ate me! The frickin' couch ate me, digested me, and… threw me out its back end. That is how I became Sauron."
"Dr. Pelírien, Mr. Voldemort is here for his appointment," The secretary called from the front.
"Wait, how'd she get from back there," Sauron pointed to the back of the room, "to out there with all the others in tow?"
"Magic," The Doctor replied slyly as he stood, "Mr. Sauron, I believe we made some progress. Please, come back the same time next week."
As Sauron exited, a nearly angelic-looking human male glared at him with red snake eyes. The Dark Lord of Middle Earth scowled at this puny man and retrieved his helm from the secretary's desk. Then Sauron muttered, "Stupid, puny… thing. If I had my full power, I'd destroy him."
"Don't bother," The angelic-looking man with red snake eyes said, "Believe me, I've tried on many occasions," He smirked, "At least he got me out of that horrible form I was stuck in after being resurrected," He ran a hand through his ebony hair, "Good luck killing him, though. I'd love to be there to dance on his remains."
Sauron almost smirked at the puny human as he left the psychiatric clinic to go back to… wherever he was supposed to go.
THE END