Notes: Lily Lindsey-Aubery: Yes, Avengers pops in wherever it gets a chance, doesn't it? Best script ever! Zane's Girlfriend: The death camps are horrible. There actually were labour camps in Mordor in the book, but it didn't talk about them much, unfortunately. 2MFriedmanFreak: I have no idea how to pronounce Capoeira...It's a Brazilian martial art. Don't dislike Ugluk! He's going to be in it more and he's going to be a good guy...I think. It's hard to plan this story in advance...
And now for the Darth Vader theme song: Duh duh duh duhduhduhhhhh...
Chapter 9: His Evil Overlordship
Beregond fidgeted in his seat. He was not at all happy to be sitting in the waiting room at Barad-dur in the first place (who would be?) and the prolonged and unexplained wait was making him even more nervous than he had been to begin with. He had of course not come of his own volition. He had received a summons the day before and although he had no idea why the Great Eye (it was no longer a great eye, but everyone still called it that; old habits died hard) desired to meet with an insignificant Captain of Gondor, he had not thought it wise to dispute the point.
He had been waiting nearly an hour. The former Lord Celeborn, wearing thick-rimmed glasses and sporting what Sauron considered a flashy bowtie (black with neon skulls), looked up apologetically from his station behind the reception desk.
"I can't understand what's keeping his lordship so long," he said. "The committee was only going to discuss the proposed plan for compensation for balrogs. I shouldn't think that would take long, considering Gandalf killed off the only one left a few months ago."
He shook his head and turned back to the paperwork he was trying to make sense of. The outer door burst open with a resounding crash that startled Beregond into emitting a stifled shriek, and Eomer, previously the King of Rohan for about ten days, entered with his blond hair streaming behind him.
"Where's Sauron?" he demanded. "I want to see Sauron."
"Well, let me see," said Celeborn, opening his day planner, "he has an opening on Monday afternoon at three thirty."
"No, I want to see him now," said Eomer, striding over to the elevator.
"But your former majesty," protested Celeborn, leaping to his feet and hurrying after him, "his lordship is in committee just now. You absolutely cannot intrude."
With some difficulty he managed to get Eomer away from the elevator and into one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs.
"When will he be out?" asked Eomer, flopping into the chair and picking up a magazine with a picture of an orc on the cover and beneath it printed "The Man of the Future."
"I hope quite soon," said Celeborn.
"He'd better be."
Eomer flipped through the magazine for several minutes, then tossed it aside and looked around futilely for a television set. Sauron's waiting room was of a boring and comfortless cast, without so much as a coffee maker in sight.
"That's a cool pencil," Eomer remarked when his boredom grew too intense.
Celeborn looked down at the pencil he was writing with. It was hot pink and read "Life Is Better Blonde" in sparkly letters.
"Oh," said Celeborn. "This belongs to my wife. I don't know how it can have gotten on my desk." He paused and then added unnecessarily, "Of course it isn't mine, because I'm not blond."
"You aren't?" said Eomer.
"You coloured your hair?" said Beregond.
"It's not blond. It's silver."
Both men took a moment to critically examine Celeborn's hair.
"It looks blond to me," said Eomer.
The door of the elevator banged open just then and Sauron stepped out, followed by his two chief minions and Lady Galadriel, who was taking notes.
"...save for the stipulation that all responsible parties..." Sauron was saying.
"You villain!" shrieked Eomer, leaping from his chair and cutting into the monologue.
"Me?" said Sauron, nonplussed.
"No, him." Eomer pointed an accusing finger at the Witch King. "I thought you were hiding him here! Do not attempt to shield him from my wrath."
"What did I do?" asked the Witch King.
"Where's my sister?" demanded Eomer.
"Your sister? That feisty tomboy? I don't know and I don't want to."
"That's a lie! She's been missing for weeks and you were the last person to be seen with her."
"And at that time she stuck her sword between my eye sockets. Let me tell you, that ended our relationship."
"You've got her here, haven't you? I'm not leaving until I've found her."
"She's not here," said the Witch King, giving an involuntary shiver at the possibility.
"I'll find out for myself!" said Eomer, leaping past them into the elevator. The door closed behind him and the light beside it began to climb towards the top level indicator.
"Do not follow him," said Sauron, as if someone had offered to. "He won't find anything. Aha! You."
Beregond shifted uncomfortably as he saw Sauron's visor turned towards him.
"I had forgotten I had sent for you," said Sauron. "I have a job offer."
Beregond drew a breath of relief before it occurred to him that working for Sauron might not be the pleasantest experience.
"You're probably aware of what happened to the last steward of Gondor," Sauron began. "His end was unfortunate. I was planning to use him after the war was over. And now that his son has disappeared with a band of misled satellites and the rightful king of Gondor is a wanted criminal, I have no one left to put in charge. That's why I sent for you."
"Me?"
"Yes, you'll be the new steward of Gondor. Don't worry, it won't be very hard. You will need to make sure the country runs smoothly and make all the boring everyday decisions, but anything really important you will refer to me. You can take as many holidays as you like - sit on the king's throne - whatever you feel like doing."
"Thank you," said Beregond, unsure of what else to say.
"I will, of course, be keeping my eye on you," said Sauron. "Here." He handed Beregond a palantir. "That's for you."
Beregond had run out of things to say. As he was fumbling over an acceptable thank you the outer door burst open again and two orcs entered, leading an unwilling Glorfindel who was garlanded with several very large chains.
"What's this?" said Sauron.
"The elf who was causing trouble in camp 189."
"Where's the nazgul I sent?"
"I don't know," said one of the orcs. "He handed him over to us and said he had other business to attend to."
"I didn't send him any orders," protested the Witch King. "Where is that useless creep? Come to mention it, where are all eight of them? Goofing off, are they?"
He set off to find them. Sauron turned to Glorfindel.
"I wanted to talk to you because someone said you'd come back from the dead. That means you went to Valinor, right?"
"Well," said Glorfindel, "the Halls of Mandos... It's sort of different..."
"Close enough. I want to know what the Valar are up to over there. They aren't hatching any plots to depose me, are they?"
"I don't know." said Glorfindel. "You see, I haven't been there since the first age."
"Well, she wasn't up there," said Eomer, stepping out of the elevator. "You'd better tell me where she is."
"I don't know where she is," said Sauron. "But if I see her I'll let you know." He turned back to Glorfindel. "If you truly don't know anything, then you're of no further use to me. Take him to the death camps."
"But...I..." began Glorfindel.
"That's uncivilised!" said Celeborn.
"How dare you sentence an innocent elf to such a dreadful place!" exclaimed Lady Galadriel. "I will not permit it."
"Shut up!" said Sauron. "I'll do what I like in my own tower. Take him away, I say!"
The orcs moved to obey, but the door was blocked by two odd figures.
The first one wore holey bell-bottomed jeans and a tie-dyed t-shirt, while the second sported a headband and orange- and brown-striped corduroy trousers. They both had long, yellow hair by which they might be distinguished as elves, although the amount of dirt adhering to them rendered this diagnosis questionable.
Everyone was at first too surprised to say anything.
"Whoooaaaaa," said one of the elves.
"Rumil, Orophin, is that you?" said Lady Galadriel.
"Yeah, man," said Rumil, the elder of the two brothers. "We were looking for you."
"Then - " said Lady Galadriel hopefully, "you've come to rescue me?"
Sauron assumed a fierce expression.
"No," said Orophin. "We just wanted to tell you... We like totally saved two of your trees."
"What are you dressed like that for?" said Celeborn indignantly. "That sort of attire was never permitted in Lothlorien."
"Oh, now Celby, I think it's cute," said Galadriel. "And you saved some of my Mellyrn? How sweet of you."
"Yeah, like a ton of orcs came and started chopping them all down, so we like totally saved them..."
"You're the crackpots who chained yourselves to trees?" said Sauron. "I told my minions to bring you in over a week ago." The Witch King being nowhere in sight, he glared menacingly at the innocent Mouth.
"Do you mean to say," said Glorfindel, who had still not been led away, "that instead of coming up to Rivendell to help us repulse the invaders, you sat about saving silly trees?"
"Is that what you were doing while they were dragging us away to this hole?" said Celeborn drily.
"Oh, it's wonderful," said Galadriel. "At least there are still two left. I must go see them. You'll give me the day off of course, won't you, Sauron dear?"
"Not until he's told me where my sister is!" said Eomer. "Do you think I'm going back to Rohan without her? No more stalling."
"My dear, the trip would be far too dangerous," said Celeborn. "Your lordship, don't let her go."
Glorfindel was still shouting at Rumil and Orophin. "Weren't you aware that the whole rest of Middle Earth was fighting a WAR? How could you just sit there chained to trees?"
"We were protesting the war!" said Orophin. "The whole reason we're in this mess and all the trees got cut down was because of the war. We came up here to tell him to stop the senseless killing."
"I'll of course insist on paid leave," said Galadriel, "because it's for community service."
"Peace out, man!" said Rumil.
"Help!" cried Sauron, clutching his helmet. "I'm surrounded by too many blondes! Someone get them out of here!"
"I'll go," said Beregond, making for the door.
"No!" said Sauron. "No one leaves without my permission."
"But you just said..."
"You're all going to the death camps!"
"Except for me," said Celeborn. "Because I'm not blond."
"You can't get along without your secretary," said Galadriel firmly. "I don't know if you're aware of it, but your spelling is atrocious."
"Whatever," said Sauron. "Guritz, call up a dozen more orcs and escort these four nutcases to the nearest death camp. - And make sure they die soon," he added.
The summoned orcs arrived and took away Glorfindel, Eomer, Rumil, and Orophin, who were apparently the most unnecessary of Sauron's blond retinue.
"Ah, peace," murmured Sauron when they had gone. He noticed Beregond edging towards the door.
"You go back to Minas Tirith and do your job," said Sauron. "And don't forget your palantir."
"Yes, your lordship."
Clutching his palantir, Beregond fled the dark tower.
Mwahaha I love making Sauron suffer! Sorry Galadriel is so ooc.
Stay tuned for more of Beregond and his precious palantir...
Sauron thinks bow ties are cool.