Well well well. Look what the global pandemic dragged in.
Honestly, I highly doubt there is any interest in this crack-story of mine after I neglected it for nearly 14 years (holy. shit.), but it has chafed at me this whole time that I had something waving out there that wasn't complete. If anybody is still interested, I AM SO SORRY. I literally never post unfinished stories anymore because of this, for whatever that's worth? Anyway, I still had a part of the next chapter written and notes of what I generally wanted to do, so whilst quarantined after moving back to the US, guess what I decided to complete!
Which means it is FINISHED. I'm chopping the rest into two chapters because otherwise it was a 21 page chapter and that was a bit much (as in, exactly the same length as all the previous chapters combined). I'll have that posted next next week!
Neither one spoke to him as they went home, although he could hear Anariel speaking softly to Elbaras about his behavior. Apparently there was considerable worry about how this latest episode would tarnish their chances for a good report. This gave Sauron a fuzzy feeling of power – it would ultimately be his word that decided their fate – but it was of such a trivial nature that he mostly felt pathetic for reacting at all.
The two had apparently sobered considerably, and when Sauron opened the door to the house, they marched in quietly. Once inside, Elbaras charged up the stairs, but Anariel stayed down.
He didn't question why she did this, as he was relatively sure that he wouldn't understand her reasoning. Such being the case, he made his way to the kitchen, the little girl trailing behind him like his own personal, animated shadow.
Although he was convinced that he deserved to have this whole ordeal made as simple as possible, Sauron did appreciate that Raudwen had left clear instructions on how to make dinner as well as partially prepared ingredients; at least he could feel confident that tonight's results would be edible.
As he went to the hearth and began to stoke the fire, Anariel continued to hover around and watch his every move. Coupled with her silence, it was a bit bothersome, but not enough that he was going to make note of it.
It wasn't until he turned to the food and began gathering the necessary utensils to prepare it that she piped up.
"I could make it," she offered, weaving a hand into the fabric of her sleeve.
Sauron looked up from measuring some water and quirked a brow at her. "And why would you want to do that?" he queried.
"To help," she replied. "Since Elbaras was bad."
"Hm…" Sauron wondered if this was legitimate, that the girl would try to pay the penance – which he had no actual intention of collecting – for the brother's errors. "That is unnecessary," he said, beginning to add the liquids.
"But…" Anariel faltered, looking at the bowl sadly.
It didn't really make sense that she wanted to do work where there was no benefit, but if it would make her happy, Sauron couldn't complain about not having to do it himself. All the ingredients now added to the strange elven concoction, he pushed the bowl across the counter, turning the spoon to face her.
"If you are so inclined, you may stir."
As she grabbed the spoon, she smiled as though he had just made her day.
Although the bowl looked a bit too large for her, Anariel managed to hold it in place while frowning determinedly. Sauron watched her as he set the table, both a bit amused and impressed with the girl's determination.
When she proclaimed that everything had been satisfactorily mixed, he examined it and nodded to her before putting the lid on the mixture and hanging it above the hearth.
As had many of his assumptions that day, the one predicting that she would disappear the instant that this task had been completed proved false. She was still sitting at the counter, looking at him patiently. It was a very expectant look, as though she was waiting for him to do or say something.
Furrowing his brow, Sauron folded his arms. "What?"
"What else can I do?" she explained, patience in her voice that was annoying given her young age.
"Go… play. Or something," he tried.
She slid down from the stool and hopped over to him, looking entirely unconcerned. "There really aren't any other chores I can do?" she asked, head tipping.
"Yes, I'm quite confident with my previous response."
She jumped forward, hands outstretched for his before a look of remembrance crossed her face and she dropped her arms back to her sides.
"Will you… will you help me?" she asked.
"Do what?" Sauron replied slowly, wondering what demeaning thing the girl expected of him now. Probably making flower bouquets, he thought darkly.
"Revenge."
Well.
Huh.
Unable to put the word together with the image of the girl standing in front of him, Sauron did not answer for a long moment. When he did, he realized that he probably should have waited a bit more considering the lack of intelligence his reply contained. "What?"
Anariel scooted over to the stools and took a seat upon one, apparently so that she could be closer to his eye level. "There was a boy at the park," she explained, a hand held up casually. "And he pushed me out of the line when it was my turn to go next. And he does stuff like that all the time! It's not right!"
Sauron could have laughed at the ridiculousness of her motivation. "Is this the first time you've wanted to do something about it?" he asked, barely able to keep his ridiculing mannerisms in check.
"Well, I've thought about it, I've just never actually done anything about it…"
Sauron raised a brow. "Then why is this time different?"
"Because," she said, lifting her head and jutting out her chin, "He picks on everybody and he's like this when we go to our studies too and he just cries when people try to tell the adults what happened and his parents won't do anything and it hurts where he pushed me!" She pointed to a spot above her left elbow and frowned. "And Papa said no when I asked last time," she muttered, almost as an afterthought.
Sitting next to her, Sauron propped his head against a fist and considered her. Of the two children, he was starting to realize that Anariel had more going on in her head than he would have thought. On all the occasions he had seen her, and there had been many over the course of her short life, she had always played the part of the polite child around him. From the stories Haldir had told him, Sauron knew that she did have a tendency to plan and reason to an extent that occasionally disturbed her father.
Still, Sauron had mostly disregarded this. She hadn't even seen ten years; she'd need more time than she'd had to be able to scheme in a way he might find amusing. Apparently, however, she was a bit further down the road than he had assumed.
As he considered it, Sauron could not help but find the idea at least mildly interesting. All things considered, he was a good teacher when disposed to be one. Perhaps he could pass a bit of his … knowledge… to the girl. And then, of course, he could stand back and watch what childish mayhem was provoked.
Shaking off his thoughts, Sauron looked at Anariel and inwardly groaned. There it was again, that prickling at the back of his head, like someone was poking his brain. Unfortunately, the someone was himself.
She was a little elven girl living in Valinor. She had no reason to learn how to extract revenge.
Fist opening so that he could rub his temple, Sauron slouched. "Anariel, revenge is not the answer," he said reluctantly, although a part of his mind supplied that it was satisfying, regardless.
Her lips pursed, brow drawing down. "I don't believe you."
Sauron blinked. "Whyever not?"
"I think you're lying."
Well… that made things a bit more difficult.
"If you're not going to help me, I'll get Elbaras' help."
Images of what the hyperactive boy would think to produce, which would no doubt be ten times more complicated than necessary and involve the expenditure of energy reserves he could not imagine, came to mind.
"That would lead to a poor report to your parents."
By the way her jaw was set, it was clear Anariel had already considered this. "This is more important. He needs to be stopped."
That was sort of noble, right? It was for a good cause. Surely nobody could take fault with him for allowing this. It would be fine. A win-win for everybody, really, if she got this out of her system and he got whatever amusement it might provide.
Even as the decision tried to settle, the counterarguments kicked at it. Images of what Haldir would do once he learned that Sauron had allowed Anariel to attempt anything of this nature supplied themselves, and those outcomes seemed even worse than what Elbaras would get into.
… So then where did that leave him?
After scouring his mind for a minute, his conscience offered an option that he was forced to irritably accept.
Sighing for what he assured himself was dramatic effect, Sauron tried to look at her seriously. "All right, Anariel. Do you want to know the truth?"
"Yes," she said in a tone that made it obvious she would have rather had that to begin with.
After observing her, hopefully to give the impression that he was still summing her up, he nodded. "I have taken revenge on many occasions." He held up a hand before she jumped in. "However, it was not as easy as that. There were always repercussions for such things."
"Repercussions?" she mused.
"Punishment," he explained.
"Oh."
"Now is that really a mess you want to get yourself into?" he asked, seeing a flicker of triumph over the situation at the thoughtful look on her face.
It was, like so many other instances when he had thought he had the upper-hand, short lived.
"Why did you need revenge so much?"
For the first time in a long while, Sauron wanted to hit something. His own person not excluded.
The pause only made it worse, as it gave her time to think about it. "Was it because somebody cut off your finger?"
Gritting his teeth to keep his pride in check, he didn't notice Anariel slip down from her chair until she set a hand on his knee. Jarred from his thoughts, he looked down at her and was surprised to see her pulling off a look that was far too understanding for her age.
"I'll help you if you help me," she said decidedly. As though she actually had the ability to help him with any of the issues he had.
So. He had a child who was determined to get some sort of retribution for the slights she had received from another. Said child had not been convinced by his attempts to sway her from this path. Now she was even trying to barter with him.
He could simply… lock her in her room. Or something. She wouldn't be able to do anything then. Haldir probably wouldn't be happy initially, but he could spin some sort of tale to smooth things over with Raudwen and then explain what had happened to Haldir. The elf had just enough of a questionable streak that he would probably accept that drastic measures had been needed.
"I just want him to stop," she said seriously. "I don't… I don't want to hurt him the way he hurts others. I just want his parents to listen and know what he does so that he might stop."
Oh. Right. Revenge could have that sort of justice angle. He forgot for a moment that the means of measurement might be different between them; he had been judging the situation by what revenge would mean to him. Unsurprisingly, that was a little different than what it meant for a child in Valinor.
"No violence."
She shook her head.
"Just talking."
She nodded.
"Then I think what you are wanting is to engage in some sort of diplomacy," he said at length, feeling the way this scenario could be acceptable. He felt some of his concerns ease as he turned this over. "And you know this child well enough to know where he lives?"
"Yes."
He sighed and shrugged to nobody in particular. "Very well. Get your brother."
Anariel's eyes were bright and her grin giddy as she darted away toward the stairs. Sauron stood and grabbed the fire poker from beside the hearth before violently mashing the coals around. Dinner would have to wait, apparently.
At least it couldn't possibly take that long, could it? He considered the sky as the colors slipped toward orange and fuschia. It wouldn't be terribly long until the children were expected to be in bed, so hopefully they could get this unexpected errand done and return without too much delay. It sounded like it would be boring enough.
There was a thundering of feet on the stairs, and he moved toward the entry. Elbaras looked as excited as his sister as he lifted his fists. "Time to show Valiros not to mess with us," he said, grinning.
"You can put those away," Sauron said, pressing the boy's hands down from his battle stance. "Anariel only intends to talk."
The comment got the necessary assent from Anariel, but Elbaras frowned, unconvinced. "Well. They're ready if needed."
Sauron considered the two of them as they looked at him, all expectant energy, and wondered what exactly had led him to this point. Wary and weary about this venture even though it hadn't even begun, he gestured toward the door. "Lead the way."
Anariel accepted the cue and marched out of the house and down the street. They turned twice before cutting through a green space to another road. "Here it is," she said as she stopped before one of the houses.
There were lights glowing from inside as dusk closed in, so unfortunately the hope that this would be concluded due to missing the necessary people wasn't going to pan out. Sauron folded his arms and nodded toward the building. "I will be here as needed, but this was something you wished to do. Have at it."
Anariel considered him for a moment longer before taking a deep breath and turning to her brother. He held out a hand without her asking, and they stepped up to the door.
She knocked without waiting and squared her shoulders. Even in that lighting, it was obvious how she started when the door swung open.
A boy roughly the same height as her poked his silver-haired head around the corner. For a moment he looked puzzled before his lips twisted in a smirk. "What are you doing here? Finally realized what an amazing kid I am?" he asked.
"What an amazing moron, maybe," Elbaras muttered.
A startled laugh almost managed to push past Sauron's lips. The dry tone was one hundred percent Haldir, which made the contrast with the child's timbre jarring. Sauron was sure that Elbaras must have heard his father say something to that effect, though he wondered who had been the target of his annoyance. It'd been a while since he himself had earned that variety of sass from Haldir.
Apparently Valiros was unused to being spoken to this way. He looked scandalized and furious in turns. "Nobody asked for your useless input," he shot before looking at Anariel again. He seemed a bit too thrown to fully gather his arrogance. "Anyway, are you here to apologize for trying to keep me from playing today?"
Anariel's whole posture was stiff. Sauron almost wondered if she was going to lose her nerve at this critical point, but then her expression hardened. "No," she said finally, lifting her chin. "I'm here for an apology from you. And a promise."
This was apparently beyond bewildering. After a long, confused moment, the boy laughed. "You're even stupider than I believed you to be. I suppose that's what happens when you have a parent who wasn't born in Valinor."
This was a look into elven dynamics that Sauron had not expected, but of course it shouldn't have come as a surprise. Half the drama the exiled elves had brought across the sea with them had been superiority baggage.
The thing that was surprising was the annoyance Sauron felt at this insult. Sure, Haldir was kind of an idiot, but that had nothing to do with him being a silvan elf and everything to do with him just being… like that. So, not exactly incorrect, but incorrect in a way that made the whole comment feel unwarranted. He couldn't exactly say why he was so bothered.
"It's not stupid to demand an apology when it's needed. It would be stupid to keep letting you do whatever you want."
"What, you mean like this?"
The boy stepped forward and shoved Anariel's shoulder. She made a choked noise as she stumbled back but caught her footing as Elbaras helped her steady herself.
"That's enough Valiros!" Elbaras said angrily.
"Or what?" Valiros lifted a brow. "You'll tell my parents?"
"I believe that is a perfect idea."
All three sets of eyes swiveled toward Sauron. He wasn't exactly sure how he had gotten there, especially when he had been firmly committed to the idea that noninterference was going to be his official stance on this whole escapade.
Sure, he had tried to keep on the periphery of the kids' existence since they had been born. There was no reason for him to be involved in their lives, or them in his life, and he figured that Haldir must have taught them as much because they had done remarkably well at keeping out of his way.
But still. He thought about how they had realized he was different but hadn't been concerned with it, and how they had been eager to include him in the ridiculousness they found enjoyable, and how regardless of how he had tried to stay on the fringe they still felt comfortable with him. He hadn't needed that, but it did give him a strange sense of ownership. They were the children of his friend, which in some way put them within his purview.
And he had never responded well to outside influences crossing him or the things he viewed as his, regardless of how lightly he held his claim.
Valiros's confidence buckled. He took a step back behind the door. "Who are you? You're not their father."
Sauron smiled blandly. "Which is an unfortunate fact for you; he is considerably nicer than myself. Now get one or both of your parents while I still have the patience for this nonsense."
He darted back into the house, already wailing. Good.
There was the muffled sound of voices, and too soon the crying was once again audible. The door was roughly yanked back open, revealing the family in its entirety.
The mother held Valiros against her chest, cooing reassuringly as the father crossed his arms. Sauron really did not have a good grasp of what behavior was expected at various ages, but he felt like this sort of fragile handling of the child was excessive.
"What is the meaning of this?" the father demanded sternly. He considered those standing on the step with the same expression, as though Sauron should be cowed as easily as the children clearly were. This approach must have worked for him in the past; there was a weight to his bearing that carried some sense of importance.
When his gaze fell on Sauron, it was suddenly obvious that this elf had seen the light of the two trees, which probably accounted for the attitude. How obnoxious.
"I could understand the whims of children causing distress, but I am shocked to find an adult apparently comfortable with inspiring such tears," the elf continued.
Apparently this was the cue to feel a certain amount of contrition, but Sauron was quite good at avoiding that. "Oh, of course, if they were true tears, I would be as distressed by this situation as yourself," Sauron said. The sarcasm was so thick that he wondered if it circled back around to sounding sincere or if it was just so blatantly rude that the father didn't know what to do with it; something rippled in his expression, but the emotion was elusive. "Unfortunately, they are definitely fake, since your child is a little liar."
There was a beat of silence.
"Excuse me?" the mother asked, soothing tone pinched with incredulousness.
"Surely you are familiar enough with your own child that you can tell the difference between true and feigned upset?" he said with false surprise. It was easy to fall into this charade, probably because it revolved around being fully awful but only in subtext; it would require the rude gamble of directly confronting him if they wanted to call him on his behavior. By and large, he knew most elves in Valinor would rather stew on it later than have to risk some social faux pas.
"I do not believe I appreciate what you are insinuating," the father said. Valiros sniffled pathetically to reinforce his apparent status as a victim.
"No, people do not enjoy believing their child is a manipulative bully, do they?" he mused innocently before pushing forward through the mother's indignant gasp. "But, regardless, that is certainly the situation. And that is the reason for our presence here this evening."
Valiros had increased his blubbering, issuing half-hearted complaints and denials. The parents both clearly believed everything he said; as Anariel had warned, they obviously took their child's word above the word of anybody else.
Luckily for Anariel and Elbaras, Sauron was not just anybody else.
He reached down, setting a hand upon each of their heads to steer their faces forward again. "Your child will issue an apology to these two for the physical behaviors he has unfortunately seen fit to enact upon them. And then he will promise to not behave in that manner toward them again."
"And not to anybody else, either," Anariel piped up, head swiveling to look at him.
Right. That whole justice thing. Even though this situation had been difficult for her, she had not lost sight of her ultimate goal. "A fair point," he allowed. "He shall improve his behavior toward all those he engages with."
"I don't think you understand," the father said, stepping out, "who you are dealing with."
Sauron smiled, sharp and predatory. Even with so much of it lost or inaccessible, he still felt the little well of power within him; slivers at a time though it might be, his good behavior over the passing years was being rewarded. At this point he had been given back enough of what was left after the destruction of his ring that he could probably make a truly dramatic reveal about who he was, if he really wanted to ruin the frustratingly comfortable life he was building for himself.
Still, when the conditions were laid out so conveniently, it was hard to not at least accept some of the drama that was offered. "No, I don't know who I'm dealing with. But I can promise, should you wish to posture over that information, you will not be the one with the upper hand when everything is revealed."
The father took a step back. Sauron maintained his grip on the twins, preventing them from turning toward him as he spoke. He thought he had a pretty good grasp on things, but just in case, he didn't need them seeing anything in his face that could be added to their evidence of why he wasn't an elf.
It had been decades now since he had really drawn from the power his voice could command, but his patience with this situation had run its course and he felt no need to continue toying with it. If the parents didn't have the sense to meet him where he was indicating they needed to be, he would just drag them to it.
"These children have said that your child bullies them and others, and that you both are too blind to acknowledge it. But I am sure this is not the first complaint that's been brought to you."
"No," the mother said reluctantly, obviously puzzled that she was speaking.
"It's the eighteenth," the father put in.
Perfect. This was all that would be needed of him. For an elf who had seen the trees, Sauron had actually expected more from the father, but perhaps he had always lived in Valinor and gone soft. "At this point it would seem reasonable to assume that some pattern of behavior exists," he continued, all honey.
"But he's our child."
He raised a brow. "So you should want to hold him to a standard, shouldn't you?" Shoot, there had been absolutely nothing nurturing about what happened in the pits of Thangorodrim, but he had still had expectations of the things that were made down there.
"Yes," the father said slowly. "I suppose we should."
Alright, good. Progress. For all the arrogance in this family, they were caving to his influence. He didn't let himself dwell on the fact that he was having to be the good influence in this situation. "A good starting place for this change would obviously be that apology and promise that were requested, wouldn't it?"
There was a dragging reluctance in the pause, and he pushed. "The first step is, understandably, the hardest. But it must be taken at some point, so why not now?"
The mother slowly nodded and lowered Valiros to stand on his own. The boy looked fully puzzled by what was happening, blinking stupidly at his parents as though the force of his frown would pull them back to his side.
But it didn't work. The father set his hand on his shoulder and nudged him toward Anariel and Elbaras. "You should apologize."
"For what!"
"For being an insufferable turd," Elbaras said snidely.
"Hey," Sauron said sharply, because it might be true but saying it sort of undermined the thing they were going for here. Elbaras ducked his head.
With neither of his parents interjecting at this slight, Valiros seemed to realize there would be no reinforcements to help him retreat. He stared between the three on the doorstep, gaze still puzzled but sharp as it passed between Anariel and Elbaras, but it melted weakly as it met Sauron's.
He gulped and then looked off to the side. "I'm sorry. For picking on you. And the others."
Anariel crossed her arms. "And?" she said expectantly, doing her best to look down her nose at him.
Valiros increasingly looked like he wished he could just disappear. "And I promise to stop, okay?"
He seemed to decide that was enough because, regardless of the weight of his father's hand, he spun in a nice pivot and darted back into the house before either of his parents could call him back.
His parents stood there for a moment more, as though they were still attempting to process what had just happened. The father blinked, brow furrowed, before considering Sauron again. Sauron kept his expression neutral as he stared back.
"Who are you?" the father asked, equal measures curious and leery.
"A family friend," he said with false cheer.
"Papa said he's like an uncle," Elbaras said, raising his hands to rest over the one Sauron had kept on top of his head.
"But Papa also said we're not allowed to call him that," Anariel whispered pointedly.
"And he is correct on that front," Sauron said, focusing on that much easier to digest fact rather than the shock that wanted to slip in that Haldir had apparently been comfortable ascribing any sort of familial title to him. "I believe it's time to go. Say goodnight."