Barad Dur
The halls of Barad Dur were unusually crowded for the evening, or at least they seemed so to the young servant girl, Valana. She had been given over from her home in Harad to serve in the Dark Lord's great tower on her twelfth birthday. It was an immense honor to be allowed to look upon the tower fortress from up close, but as a servant she lived within its very halls; so very close to their people's ruler. A ruler whom many believe to be a god. She has lived in Barad Dur for seven years now, and her family has been elevated in social status as a result. Being poor, and little more than slaves they rose significantly. The family having been poor and under privileged had no way of teaching her to read or write, these skills however she was taught as training for her position. It was many times required for her to read messages and write letters for the nobles and military commanders that visited.
Now though she just had to set out the food for a gathering in the throne room. She was so familiar with the task it was reflexive by now. So she distracted herself with observing the crowd that began to fill the room. All of them seemed to be of the highest levels of the Dark Lord's army. Several generals of Rhun were among the first to enter.
Even the Supreme Commander of Rhun, Darhalan, was present. The man was large a head taller than the generals, and quite noticeably brawny under his burgundy armor. A red cape flew behind him as he walked, and a crudely spiked mace bounced on his hip, a weapon that seem it would take two hands to wield, but she suspected the Supreme Commander held with one.
Next she noticed the Harad ambassadors one being a distant cousin she met recently. Last in the group were sorcerers with their staves, and strange robes. She envied what they could do, but never understood why they wore what they did.
The hall had been in constant chatter since the crowd showed up, eating, laughing, and some angered yelling. All the sudden though all talk ended, and it seemed as though any joy that was present in the men's faces died. The only sound was the clanking of metal against stone. The footsteps of the Witchking as he entered the room.
In fear and reverence she took her first look at the legendary right hand of Sauron. Covered almost completely in pitch black robes. With only his black armored hands and feet exposed, aside from his distinct helmet. It seemed as though everyone in the hall feared to speak now that a Nazgul had appeared. The Witchking cast his gaze over at the table directly at her, and began to approach. She froze stiff feeling that her life was done when the Lord of the Nazgul made his way to her.
He stopped at the table, and still looking at her spoke, "I desire a drink."
She felt a chill run down her spine. The words seemed to hold no anger, and his voice even had a fairly deep pleasant tone, but there was still an echo that sounded as though it came from another world. Frozen for a moment she responded. "W-Wine my lord?"
The Witchking nodded, and she quickly got a glass and poured it full for him. Before he grabbed the cup he reached up to his helmet, and started to raise it from his head. The poor servant girl waited in terror anticipating the faceless void under his helmet to be replaced by a ghostly and decrypted face she expected the Nazgul to possess. Then her mouth dropped with surprise.
Under the helm was a face of a man. Not the withered husk of an undead, or the aged visage of an old man. Behind that metal mask, that made it seem as though nothing but darkness laid behind, was the gruff but definitively handsome appearance of a noble blooded warrior. His features somehow spoke of his royalty while having the strong jawline of a veteran combatant. She also just noticed the man was at least seven and a half feet tall, boasting a powerfully built body.
The Witchking noticed the amazement on the girl's face, a look of amusement crossed his face. "I see it was unknown to you that my Lord restored my fleshly body to me. The shock is clear in your expression."
The girl's eyes widened in terror realizing she likely insulted one of the most powerful beings in Middle-earth. Bowing her head low she sputtered, "I-I apologize m-m-my Lord. I beg your forgiveness. I was simply stunned by your attractiveness." She hoped that her not false statement might spare her his wrath.
"Thank you my lady your complement is quite welcome." He was a little taken back that anyone let alone a servant girl had the courage to actually admit her surprise. "I cannot however forgive you simply by your asking."
She felt it, this was her last moment in this world. "Please my Lord allow me to do something to make it up to you." She started to regret the words as soon she spoke them. From what she heard he was likely to torture her until she asked for death, or just end her life without a second thought. A darker thought came to her mind considering he was a flesh and blood man he may have other desires now.
"There is one thing you could do." The Witchking's words gave her a bad feeling that her last thought was dead on. "Pour me another glass of wine, and I'll forget everything. Except the flattery of course."
Relief washed over her for so many reasons, and she smiled genuinely at the King of Dread. "Certainly my Lord."
She refilled his cup, and pushed it in front of him. The Witchking downed it in one drink, and tilted his head in a gesture of thanks. Then he donned his helmet again, and left to join the leaders before the throne. She was astounded that she actually enjoyed his company aside from the constant fear of being killed.
A loud thud drew the crowd's attention to the front of the room. From the doors beside the throne stepped out the Mouth of Sauron. The great sorcerer Sauron used to convey his will.
"Lords of the dominions of our great Lord Sauron, be quiet for our Master will soon arrive." The Mouth dropped to his knee, and the rest of the audience followed.
The servants all lowered their heads at the same time. Valana was ecstatic in her seven years of living and working in this tower she had not once been lucky enough to see the Dark Lord herself. Though for now she had to keep her head down.
A common sound heard in the tower echoed through the room. The sound of armored footsteps. As they got closer she could tell they were heavy footsteps, and they were only increasing in volume. By the time they walked through the throne side door it sounded like an armored troll were approaching. Then soon after she heard him sit in the throne.
"Rise" The single word spoken in the deepest voice she had heard reverberated through the hall. It seemed to contain so much power that everyone in the hall was more forced to their feet then simply obeying the command.
Valana's eyes went straight to the front of the room, the throne. Gazing for her first time at the ruler of her people she instantly realized that the stories fell short of describing him. When she first saw the throne she thought it was so large to symbolize the great power of the owner, but now she saw it was so large simply because any smaller, and it could not fit him in it.
The tales she heard from her parents said Sauron preferred the form of a huge black knight. A warrior that dwarfed all in size and strength. The stories now seemed to fall utterly short somehow. Valana was looking at a man over ten feet in height. The close by Mouth was fairly thin in comparison to the brawny warriors of the hall, but next to the Lord of Mordor he was barely more than a twig-like figure.
The giant man was sitting casually in his throne, but the red glow of his eyes made her feel dread she had not known before. They seemed to be burning with hate, and she felt as though his presence, even as far away as he was, brought with it a pressure that threatened to crush her at any moment should she cast a glance at the wrong time. Even so she forced herself to look so she could know firsthand what the Dark Lord was like.
Sauron looked over the crowd even noting the servants standing behind the tables. As with most of his subjects they looked away when he cast his sight in their direction. Then he perceived her, a young servant girl with olive brown colored skin. Her eyes were peering straight back at him. Sauron focused his eyes beyond any mortal's ability, and he was right this girl was holding his gaze. Her eyes were a brilliant emerald green, and it seemed that a hint of defiance were contained within them, but defiance of what he wondered.
Valana felt her heart pounding in her chest. She thought at first it was just coincidence that he looked in her direction, but now he seemed to be staring directly at her. Did she offend her lord by looking at him so long? In reality only seconds passed while their eyes met, but it felt to her like hours. She wanted to look at the ground, but she was too afraid to look away.
"Begin the feast." At his words Valana's heart leapt into her throat but she calmed when she realized what he said.
The first to approach her table was the Supreme Commander. He piled his plate with roast boar, pheasant, and Murmakil. It seemed the Leader of Rhun liked his meat with a side of meat.
Looking at Valana he ordered, "Pour me a pint of a Númenorean whiskey girl."
"Yes my lord." As she poured she couldn't help but feel insulted by his tone. After the gentlemanly treatment she received from the Witchking she assumed the other lords would be the same. Speak of the devil.
"Derhalan that is no way to speak to a lady." The Witchking moved to his side filling a plate of his own.
"Keep your words to yourself ghost. The opinions of a dead man interest me less than the dirt I walked on yesterday." Darhalan breathed spitefully.
Without uttering a word the Witchking raised his hand, and backhanded the Commander with enough force to knock the large man to the ground.
"You forget who I am!" The Witchking stated with anger filled words, "I am second only to Sauron."
Darhalan rose to his feet, "I think it's about time that changed."
In a sudden motion he threw his fist at the Witchking's face. Without flinching the Witchking stopped the punch with one hand. The blow had so much power behind it a loud clap, almost like thunder, sounded through the hall. The Nazgul squeezed the Commander's fist, until the pain of it caused him to fall to his knees.
"That's more like it." He finally let go, "You should bow before a king. Now apologize to the young lady."
"My lord it was no offense. I'm not a lady, just a servant girl." Valana tied to cool the situation.
"I am sorry my lady ah" Darhalan gritted his teeth, "for any uh offense given."
The Witchking released the commander's hand and waved for him to leave. Then he looked back to Valana inclined his head and left. She was honored someone as powerful as the Witchking stood up for her but, she wished it hadn't caused anyone trouble. The Supreme Commander of Rhun might blame her for what happened, and what could she do to protect herself against someone that powerful.
Caught up in her thoughts she did not notice the stirring in the hall, nor did she see the crowd clearing a path. Sauron approached the girl directly, but it seemed to him that she was caught up in thinking about something, distressing maybe? He stopped in front of the table looking down at the girl, but she was still oblivious to his presence. While the rest of the hall's attendants stared with bated breath, wondering why the Dark Lord approached this servant girl.
Valana, still searching for ideas on how to apologize to Darhalan, grew annoyed, and frustrated. Why did she have to kiss up to some asshole who brought what he got on himself? It didn't make sense, it wasn't fair, and it made her angry.
"You bastard!" Valana yelled louder than she intended, also unfortunately for her the ever present chatter had stopped.
Then she noticed the black armored figure standing in front of her, and her heart sank. She moved her gaze upward until she had to back up, and crane her head to finally see the glowing red eyes that looked at her through the black void within the helmet. With horror clear in her features she just stood there too afraid to speak. No one amongst the crowd dared break the silence either for fear they might join the now doomed girl's fate.
A deep short "Hmph" came from Sauron, and filled the quiet. "I assume by the shock, and fear in your eyes that you were not speaking to me."
To her relief she could hear the slight amusement in his voice; quickly she tried to respond but it came out as little more than a whisper, "Of course not my Lord."
"Assuage your fear mortal I'm not going to kill you." The giant waved for the rest of the crowd to stop staring and instantly they began talking to each other, "Now mortal what is your name?"
"Va-Valana my Lord." She could scarcely believe that the ruler of her people would bother to ask.
"Valana. You have good eyes Valana." Sauron paused a second at the sight of surprise on her face, "They seem to glow as if they were stars."
Now she thought she must have gone insane. No one has ever given her such a compliment, the last thing she expected to happen after yelling "You bastard!" to Sauron himself was him saying she had eyes as pretty as the stars.
"Thank you my Lord." She spoke with true joy, and finally got the courage to ask something she always wanted to, "Is it true you are a god my Lord? I mean you referred to me as mortal so that means you are immortal right?"
"No. I am not a god." He replied surprised she had the boldness to ask, "I cannot die as others, but that doesn't make me a god. Goodbye Valana I should speak with Murazor, and the others."
Before she could reply Sauron turned, and walked in the direction of the Witchking. His personality seemed to differ greatly from the stories she had heard when she was a kid, or the stories she heard from other servants in the tower. According to those stories she would have been locked up in cold cell to be tortured daily for yelling at the Dark Lord.
Then out of nowhere an exquisitely tailored blue robed figure appeared in the center of the room.
"Sauron!" The man called out, "This world has long enough been plagued by your evil. The Valar offered you a chance to face your crimes, but you rejected our gracious offer. So I have come to end it!"
"Irmo." Sauron only slightly annoyed by this intrusion, "Your arrogance is well suited to represent the will of the Valar."
"You dare speak to me in such a way betrayer?" Irmo grew angered, "You are no more than one of the Maria. Your kind was always meant to serve as the Valar's servants."
The Mouth of Sauron had heard one insult to many against his Master. The Sorcerer gathered green arcs of lightning and sent them crackling toward the intruder. The Valar held one hand out and caught the dark magic without any effort. Then after the Mouth poured more power into his attack the Valar threw a white bolt of lightning to counter. The bolt surged through the dark magic, and struck the Mouth in the chest causing him to spasm, and his flesh to burn painfully.
"You seem to be surrounded by weakness Sauron." Irmo took pride in the ease with which he defeated the Sorcerer, "I guess it's time…"
Irmo jumped back at the sight of Sauron standing just a few feet in front of him. He did not notice before, but Sauron's current form was massive, and the red glow from his eyes seemed to warn him of the power he was facing. Even so Irmo would not relent. He summoned a torrent of lightning serval times stronger than that he used on the Sorcerer. The black stone floor turned red form the heat, and the room became so bright that Valana and the rest of the servants had to close their eyes. Then he cast the concentrated magical force toward Sauron tearing the ground apart as it advanced toward him. Without changing his footing Sauron created an orb of dark power, and threw it into the oncoming attack; the two opposing magics canceled one another out. Irmo stunned still managed to channel his next spell, but Sauron beat him to it. He cast a spell that would rip the soul out of mortal creatures, but the Valar was powerful enough to survive. Almost drained to the point of his physical form's death Irmo teleported away unable to continue fighting.