Next Year In Orthanc
'You know,' Gandalf remarked, 'it's a bloody good thing I thought to invite Gwaihir to the birthday celebration.'
'Right,' Gríma mumbled.
'I mean, Saruman could have been dead by now.'
'Uh-huh.'
'Smashed to smithereens on the ground…or maybe hung on one of the hooks of the tower on his way down…' Gandalf chewed on the end of his pipe. 'Or maybe even impaled on his own spiky wheel just before hitting the ground. You think?'
'Oh don't go on about it,' growled Gríma. 'You're just making it worse.'
--
Together Gandalf and Gríma entered the morbid Orthanc bedchamber where Saruman lay supine on his black canopy bed, pretending to be unconscious. They were fairly sure he was pretending, at least. Gwaihir had made a wonderful catch, as usual, even supporting Saruman's head with one of his talons so that the effect of the whiplash would be limited. But Saruman liked to do things in his own dramatic way, and if he wanted to pretend to be unconscious on his birthday, Radagast was going to let him do it.
At that moment Radagast happened to be standing over Saruman, wringing his hands in a very appropriate bedside manner. 'Sweetie pie?' he would whisper from time to time. 'Turtle dove?' But no answer was forthcoming.
Suddenly, though, Gandalf saw Saruman's foot shift slightly beneath the covers. 'Radagast,' he said warningly.
'Sugar dumpling?'
'Radagast, I would step back now if I were—'
'Rascally old curmudgeon?'
'SILENCE!' Saruman's hand shot out from underneath the covers and fastened itself tightly around Radagast's throat. For once, Radagast was rendered speechless. 'You chose to invite the entire population of Middle-earth into MY tower on MY birthday and you thought for some reason that this would PLEASE ME?'
Radagast attempted to respond, but without much success.
'Well, yes,' Gandalf volunteered. 'That's a decent summary of what happened. Nice of you to catch up so quickly.'
'SILENCE!' Saruman thundered again. 'How dare you, Gandalf the GREY, how dare you enter Orthanc again!'
'Once you didn't want to let me leave. Now you can't wait for me to go!'
Saruman ignored Gandalf and let go of Radagast and fell back against his pillows, closing his eyes. Then, very slowly, very feebly, he opened them again.
'Where…am…I?' he said in a very hoarse voice.
Gandalf snorted. 'Oh, for the love of—'
'You're in your bedchamber in Orthanc,' cooed Radagast, having regained jurisdiction over his throat. 'Your sinister bedchamber. And it's your birthday, Saruman. And you're surrounded by people who love you.'
'Tolerate you,' amended Gríma.
'Came halfway across Middle-earth just to vex you,' admitted Gandalf. 'I suppose that's a way of saying we cared.'
'Gríma,' croaked Saruman.
Gríma scuttled to Saruman's bedside. 'Yes, master.'
'The lemon tart you made…week before last…'
'Yes?'
'It was…' Saruman coughed briefly. 'It was quite, er, passable.'
Gríma beamed. It was quite a sight. 'Really, master?'
'But you must stop using sugar from my private store!' Saruman ordered him harshly. 'Did it ever occur to you that I have that flown in from Harad by Eagle every Forelithe, Gríma? It is expensive!'
'I'm sorry, master,' Gríma whispered, although the grin on his face did not match his words. Praise from Saruman was very rare.
'It must have been quite a lemon tart,' Gandalf whispered to Radagast.
'It was,' Radagast whispered back. 'Better than Saruman could have made himself. But I never said that.'
'What are you hissing about, Bird-Tamer?' Saruman thundered.
'Nothing, honey bunch!'
Saruman closed his eyes wearily. 'Have I ever told you what an impossible simpleton you are, Radagast?'
'Almost every day,' Radagast said, smiling tearfully at Saruman. 'But oh, how I've missed hearing it over the past couple of weeks!'
'And a chucklehead,' Saruman remarked to the room at large. 'And also an imbecile. A blibbering imbecile.'
'Oh, Saruman,' Radagast sighed. 'I love you, too.'
Saruman contented himself with a fierce glare and a moment of silence. But this did not last long. Radagast and Gandalf and Gríma noticed, suddenly, that something was wrong. Saruman sat bolt upright in bed. He looked to his left and then to his right, and then all around the room. He stared at the staff in Gandalf's hand and the staff in Radagast's hand. Then he closed his eyes very tightly and thought…and thought…and thought. His eyes flew open at last. Each of his pupils danced with fire.
'LURTZ!'
The unfortunate Lurtz happened to lumber in at that very moment. 'Your tea, master,' he grunted out of one corner of his mouth.
'Where in the name of Morgoth is my STAFF?' hollered Saruman at the top of his lungs.
Lurtz backed away, hands outstretched as if to stay Saruman's anger. 'But, master…you said…I asked, last week, if—'
'WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING WITH MY STAFF?'
'I just wanted to borrow it, mate, I promise you…'
'WHERE IS IT? WHERE IS MY STAFF?'
'It's in my bedroom, I just—'
'IN YOUR BEDROOM?!'
Saruman took a huge lungful of air. Lurtz cringed. Gríma winced. Radagast grinned from ear to ear. He knew what was coming.
'YOU INSUFFERABLE FOOL OF AN URUK! As if it's not enough that I bred you myself and keep you alive, UNDER MY OWN ROOF, feeding you with MY OWN MAGGOTY BREAD, now you have to lay hands on the last vestiges of MY POWER! And keep it in YOUR ROOM! As if it were YOURS! It is MY sinister staff! It is MY sinister tower! Mine! All……………MINE!'
Saruman paused to take a breath as Radagast left the room sighing happily to himself. 'He's back to normal, Gríma,' he said. 'It worked! The birthday celebration worked! We should have one every year!'
'Next Quellë,' agreed Gríma. 'I'll mark his sinister calendar.'
Fin.
--
A/N: I haven't written fanfiction in a ridiculously long time. This was fun. I write mainly for Calaquende, because, much like Orlando Bloom, it's her birthday, or will be, shortly. But if you enjoyed this silly fic, please feel free to leave a review on your way out! If you liked this story, you will love Calaquende's fics. Please go read them. They are scrumptious.
Happy Birthday, Calaquende! Your birthday robe with pink flowers on the shoulders is on its way. Enjoy.
