The fact that I'm actually typing this up the same day I updated means nothing. I'll probably only upload this on ffnet sometime in the following weeks…and only if I get reviews! XD

Warning: Insanity, slight slash and MarySues. Their teeth are shiny, precious.

Disclaimer: I do not own LoTR. The claim has been dissed!

A/N: Hey this is the second time in…six chapters and a prologue! Go me. Ahem. Anyway, I would like to thank the reviewers of the last chapter, my cheeks still hurt from smiling so much.

To those that do not know (looks pointedly at Fili) Figwit is the Elf you see both in the Council of Elrond and Return of the King. In FoTR, you first see Figwit when Frodo offers to take the ring. In RoTK, he's the one who tells Arwen to hurry up. His name is actually the acronym of "Frodo Is Great- Who Is That!". For the purposes of this story, he is also…(dun dun dunn…) Legolas' older brother.

I suppose you could call him a Gary-Stu.

As for the colour 'urple', it really is a colour; please consult the "The Official Fanfiction University of Middle-earth" by Camilla Sandman. I did not mean it to be purple.

That is all; enjoy my humble offerings of humour.

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Eowyn and Faramir came to just as the Orcs carrying them entered Barad-dûr. Noticing this, the head Orc ordered they be put on their feet and walk, he didn't want his squad to spoil the 'namby-pamby humans', as he so eloquently put it.

As they neared the Room™, all nine (and three quarters, dammit) Nazgûl passed by. Eowyn stopped dead in her tracks, causing Faramir to bump into her and the Orcs hiss in displeasure.

"Y-You're the Witch King of Angmar! I killed you!" she exclaimed in horror, and would have pointed at…him…it…whatever…if her hands had not been bound by chains. (The Orcs quite obviously weren't taking any chances.)

One of the Nazgûl, presumably the Witch King, surprised her and the young Captain of Gondor by sticking out his tongue. Or what would have been a tongue after a millennia or so. "To borrow a phrase; Neener!" he said, and turned on his heel, laughing.

Bewildered, both humans were bundled into the Room™ as quickly as possible, while the rest of the Nazgûl followed their 'leader' and stalked off (with the exception of Frodo, who had to run a little to keep up. But he was doing it imposingly…). Their bonds were removed, and both stared at the bizarre sight of dead bodies of…Things piled into a heap in the corner of the Room™.

"Sister!" Eowyn had no warning when Eomer launched himself at her and hugged her gleefully, spinning her around in circles until she was ready to throw up. Okay, so she did throw up.

"Sorry, Eomer," she apologised, wiping the corner of her mouth. "Still haven't recovered from the battle at Pelennor Fields."

Said Horse-Lord looked distastefully at the gunk all over the front of his previously shiny Rohan armour, and raised his eyebrow. "This had better not stain…" he threatened.

Aside from this touching sibling reunion, the younger brother of Boromir was embraced heartily by Thorongil, or, as he was more commonly known in this age, Aragorn. Gimli watched this exchange with narrowed eyes; he did not want to trust this new Man anytime soon. If he was anything like his brother or father…

"What news do you have of the rest of Middle-Earth?" Gandalf pressed eagerly.

"Well, I have not much, but that is only because I have been in the Houses of Healing…" He shot what he thought to be a discreet glance at Eowyn and promptly blushed a fetching shade of crimson. (The authoress pauses while the Faramir!fangirls simultaneously coo at their 'sooper-cute Mir-mir' and scowl at Eowyn for snagging him.)

Aragorn and Gimli shared a look. Gandalf shook his head, sighing, and briefly contemplated whether to hit the younger (and now only) son of Denethor upside the head with his staff, much like he did when he was exorcising Théoden of Saruman. …Nah.

Faramir continued, his voice now more subdued. "But Minas Tirith has been taken, up till the topmost level. Is it true that the dark lord Sauron has won?"

The heroes that had been at the Last Battle exchanged glances. Sauron's gloatings rang clear in their ears. All at the same time they nodded.

OoOoOoOoOo

Both Afiiq and Haaris had finally agreed to carry Koss back to the tower of Barad-dûr. And this they did, with much grunting and hushed swearing, carrying her in between them across the Plains of Gorgoroth. And, with the power of the potent fast forward button, we are able to skip this pointless scene.

Because the line between day and night are extremely blurred in Mordor, we can only say that Koss woke up in her office a few hours later. At once, the Orc in the doorway stood to attention.

"We have caught the Shieldmaiden of Rohan and the Captain of Gondor, O' Sanity Keeper. Gondor has fallen into Lord Sauron's hands."

"That's nice. Thank you, Thrall." Koss smiled at the newly appointed Captain. Said guard had been promoted due to his speedy action at the Gates a few days back. Or what had seemed like a few days, at any rate. She changed back into her normal attire and was just lacing her Oliphaunt hide boots when an Orc knocked at her door.

"O' Iniquitous One, the Pointy Ear in the Room™ demands that he see a…Lana. He will not stop throttling the pretty one, either."

"Pretty one?"

"The other Elf, O' Most Bounteous and Merciful One. The brown haired one." She waved him out with orders to bring Legolas to her office.

'Pretty? When does an Orc use a word like pretty willingly?' she thought to herself. Arda was in some serious trouble if the Servants of Sauron could be turned by a show-offy Elf. Figwit, she thought his name was. What kind of self-respecting Elf went around with a name like Figwit, anyway? Then again, what kind of Elf hummed his own theme song under his breath, or carefully plucked his eyebrows?

That didn't matter when she remembered what exactly the Orc had told her. Legolas had been demanding to see Lana…Lana

Lana was the daughter of Elrond. She was beautiful, with shining chocolate waves to her perfectly shaped hips. Her waist was pinched in, and her chest pushed modestly at her revealing, yet perfectly modest, gown. Her sapphire eyes surveyed the room. Elrond loved to throw feasts, and this one was in her honor. It was time she chose a husband...

Koss suddenly had to sit down. She clutched at her head, barely suppressing a moan. It was like a herd of Trolls were trying to bash their way out of her skull. With spiked clubs.

"My lady," Legolas said, bowing ironically to her. "Would you care to dance?" Lana accepted, and Legolas led her out onto the dance floor.

This could not be happening…this could NOT be happening…After 923 years (five months and twelve and a half days) she had almost erased all of her past…and now it had come back to haunt her…with a vengeance.

Legolas pulled Lana towards him, and…

"O' Malevolent Keeper of Sanity?" Koss looked up and saw the same Orc, this time with a bound and gagged Legolas in tow. She stood immediately, shaking her head to clear her mind. (Out, out evil thoughts!) She waved a hand to the Orc. "You may leave us. Stand guard outside in case I need…assistance." The Orc bowed respectfully and did her bidding, the door shutting quietly behind him.

For a few moments Koss and Legolas regarded each other in silence (except Legolas couldn't speak anyway, because of that gag in his mouth, remember?) this being the first time in 923 years (five months and twelve and a half days) either of them acknowledged what had happened in both their pasts.

Finally, Koss grabbed the gag out of Legolas' mouth. She sat in her chair and propped her feet on her desk, not bothering to offer to untie the other Elf's bonds. "You wanted something?"

He took his time answering. It was as if he was puzzled about something, the way he was looking at her, analyzing. It would have been unnerving if Koss hadn't already gotten used to Sauron staring at her in his Great Lidless Eye Wreathed with Flame mode. And you know you can outstare anyone who can't do the Look™.

"Why?" was his question finally. "Why have you turned to Sauron?"

She shrugged and gave him a bright smile. "Evil's just easier."

He was silent at this. Koss remembered something else and carefully remarked, "I hear Figwit's in town."

At once the Elf's facade became terrible to bear. Or, it would be, if Koss, again, wasn't already used to the far, far worse faces of the Nazgûl, the various SoS, as well as Sauron. But, getting on with the story, Legolas' mouth twisted into a feral snarl, and it seemed as if a black cloud of evil-ness shrouded around him. (The authoress sighs as she has to pause again, as the Gothic!Sues squeal at how hot AngstyDark!LeggyChan looks!1!) In fact, the effect was quite spoiled when the Elf of the realm of Mirkwood started coughing on said cloud of 'evil shadow'.

Koss stifled a laugh.

"But – cough – Lana - "

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Not Lana. Koss."

"What kind of a – cough - name is Koss?"

"It is my title. Keeper of Sauron's Sanity. I protect him from…Them." She grinned to herself, as fond memories of 923 years (five months and twelve and a half days) of dismembering Sues and whatnot came to the surface. Ah, the old days…

"Anyway, Koss, I have come here for an…offer." Legolas tried his best to look princely.

"What have you to offer me that the Ruler of Arda cannot give me on a mithril platter?" She steepled her fingers and surveyed him coolly. And it was true what she said. Sauron had already promised to give her Rivendell and Isengard to do what she would. Ah, the boundlessness…

"My services, O' Keeper of Sauron's Sanity."

Koss couldn't hold it in. She burst out laughing.

OoOoOoOoOo

Many a league away, the charred bodies of a Corsair and a Harad that had previously made up two-thirds of the Designing Team of Mordor were tossed off the citadel, much to the amusements of the guards there. Sauron's Guard, of course.

The Orc, last of the team of Queer Orc for the Straight Orc, kneeled in front of an incensed Dark Lord Sauron, greatest servant of the Dark Ainur Morgoth (formerly Melkor), 'The Abhorred', King of Men, Lord Of The Rings, Gorthaur, the Deceiver, the Necromancer, the Nameless Enemy, Ruler over all of Middle Earth, Wielder of the One Ring, Bigshot I-Told-You-So Boss of Arda, Yanker of Little Girls' Ponytails and Elves' Braids, Wedgie Scourge, The Great Lidless Eye Wreathed in Flame, All Time EVIL, Puppy-Kicker, Master of Melvins, The Re-re-re-incarnated, Wielder of the Wet Willy, Two-millennia Winner of Dark Lord Weekly's All-Time Hated EVIL Megalomaniac, etcetera, etcetera.

"WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO ALLOW THEM TO PAINT MY THRONE ROOM THIS…HIDEOUS COLOUR?"

"My Dark Lord, it was only to teach them a lesson. They had criticised your choice of colour scheme."

"FOOLS. IF ONLY I COULD REINCARNATE THEM AND KILL THEM ALL OVER AGAIN. AH WELL. RED AND BLACK, SRAKH. NO MORE NONSENSE. OR IT WILL BE YOU I TOSS INTO MOUNT DOOM." And Sauron, EVIL extraordinaire, stalked off impressively. Although you would agree that the effect was rather spoiled by the urple that reflected off his armour.

Srakh stifled a sigh of relief, and waved the Goblins with paint brushes over.

OoOoOoOoOo

"Are you serious?" Koss asked finally, after getting her breath back. It was rare you truly got anything ridiculous to laugh at (excluding the ludicrousness of MarySues, of course).

"My lady, I can assure you that I'm deadly serious."

Koss' eyes narrowed. "Call me 'lady' again," she said dangerously. "And I'll personally make sure that you will be castrated in the worst possible way. And abandoned in a hall of Sues, with no chance of escape. No, no, scratch that. Sues first, then castration. Yes."

Legolas' eyes were wide with fear. He could see how a lady – no, not lady, darnit – had survived and gained the respect of the SoS. Koss' smile of satisfaction at his…discomfort set his teeth on edge.

"I am serious, Koss."

She sighed, and rubbed her eyes tiredly. It would be good to have another underling to boss about. And this one was an erstwhile Fellowship member. And an Elf princeling the Sues tended to go gaga over. Hmm…that last fact could be used to their advantage.

"I assume this is to one up your brother."

"Keeper of Sauron's Sanity, I have no idea what you mean."

"Very well. I shall go see the Dark Lord."

Legolas beamed. (The Fangirls squeed in delight. The Authoress growls.)

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"But Koss, I wanted him to be a stripper in Mordor Rouge!" Sauron whined childishly, belying his true EVIL Dark Lord-ness.

"That is all very well and good, my lord, but there are benefits. The rest of the heroes will be seriously demoralised, at the mutiny of their friend. Especially the Heir of Isildur."

"Sodding mortal," Sauron muttered but motioned her to continue. If the idea screwed up the sodding wielder of the sword of Elendil, then it couldn't be such a bad one…

Koss hid her grin, deciding it would be more professional to celebrate her success out of view and earshot of her employer. "It could also be a new method of torture for the Sues. We could have them chained up, and he could walk just out of their reach. Preferably shirtless, or something."

After a while of dallying and feeble attempts at proving he wasn't interested in the idea (when the contrary was true), Sauron finally nodded.

"The Elf Legolas of Mirkwood…will be under my service. See to his lodgings, Koss. I'm going to fry some Goblins in Mount Doom. That always cheers me up…"

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All the while this was happening; said Elf of Mirkwood was seated in the office of the Keeper of Sauron's Sanity. He was contemplating on what he would do to that 'prissy nancy Figwit' once he was employed by the Dark Side, so to speak.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a few people entered. But to say 'people' would be…inaccurate. More suitable words would be along the words 'Manly Men' and 'Pretty Boys'. For that was what they were.

I will not spend time and effort (and puke) in describing each and every one of them. Suffice it to say that there was one Goth, two Elves, one punk rocker and (gasp, puke) a cowboy. Shuddertwitch.

They looked at Legolas' quizzically, and he stared right back. Who were these peoples that were allowed to roam Koss' office so? Why on Arda was one wearing scary makeup? What was the manner of weaponry that they carried? And…why was one looking at him like that?

"Who are you?" Legolas was the first to break the silence. (The fangirls are silent. That is because the Authoress has laid it on them with a sledgehammer. This chapter shall go on without anymore interruptions. Praise Illuvatar.)

"My name is Eragon HarryPotter Dragon Slayer," said the pink-haired Elf. "And theseth are my compainions; Blackwolf the Beastmaster (the other Elf); Deathdeathdeath Soo E. Cide (the Goth); Artemis Alex ObiwanKenobi FowlRider Pitt (the punk rocker); and MacDonald McEggins McCheekin McSuperSize Maccers MickeyD's. (Quite obviously the cowboy.) Who areth thou?"

"I am Legolas Thranduillion of Mirkwood," the newly Dark Side-d Elf introduced himself. An ultimate mistake, as it always was. You really think he'd stop.

"OMGQ!1 Leggy! So HAWT!" The cowboy exclaimed, and made a grab for the aforementioned – or, actually, afore-screamed – Elf, knocking over his Goth companion, Deathdeathdeath Soo E. Cide, who immediately started muttering to himself about how the world hated him and how he really needed a knife right now. (1)

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! KOSSSSSSSSSS!"

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No offence to the Goths of the world. This is a parody, and I mean of everything.

Phew. I didn't like this chapter as much as the previous one. Sighums. Ah well. Thanks again to Dagniro Vanaliel for the loaning of Koss; if anyone wants more information on Koss, contact her! Also, thanks to the various authors I have borrowed components from and of course to the loverly reviewers.

Since I have gifted you with humour so ye may laugh ye hearts out, go forth my reviewers…and DIVIDE!

…Or was that multiply?

alien