"Zirgur!" – Sauron calls and soon the orc enters the tent. – "Bring me the wizard."
"Yes, sir!" – The orc says, submissive and eager to please. It was... amusing to see the creature's blind loyalty, especially as it wasn't accompanied by that typical terror he evoked in other of his servants. Almost like a pet, he concluded. The Maia has a brief thought that perhaps this is exactly how his Lord Melkor felt about himself.
"Dedicated, talented, and blind with admiration for his lord. Ah, to be a young and impressionable soldier." – Sauron comments in a good mood with Anya, his personal servant, who was bent over in a corner sewing new clothes for her baby. The woman snorts.
"The creature is hardly young and impressionable." - She says, bitterness leaking out when she says creature, and Sauron is sure there are many things she would like to say the orc is, none of them pleasant. He doesn't blame her or get angry; Sauron must be the only one willing to see anything positive in those beings. Even so, he feels compelled to defend the orc.
"Actually, he only has a month. If his growth hadn't been accelerated by magic, I doubt he'd even reach half my height."
Anya's startled open-mouthed expression. He finds himself fighting a smile until Zirgur returns with his reluctant ally. The chains of shadow encircle his ankles and wrists and Sauron surveys the dark expression on the other's face with satisfaction. If it were up to his will and personal grudges, Saruman would have been out of his plans a long time ago. Sauron gestured to the chair opposite him.
"Sit down, Curunir." – He said it as if it were a request, although both of them knew it was an order. Sauron glances briefly at Anya, who was trembling with fear at the sight of the mage. He doesn't like the fear he sees in her for the other.
"Anya, prepare some tea for my guest."
She swallowed when Saruman glared at him even more hatefully, but the woman obeyed, though evidently terrified. Facing Saruman, he let the light brown of his eyes become flaming, and the other straightened the tiniest bit before sitting down.
"I've come to the conclusion that it's time for your staying here to come to an end."
Fear passes in the other's black eyes and Sauron calmly sips his tea. He tilts his head, delighting in how the mage looks like a mixture of fear and hatred.
"That's right, you traitor little shit. Squirm before me." - He thinks when he sees the wizard, despising him. Sauron had a rather long list of the vile deeds he committed in his lifetime, but one line he never crossed was treason. Until someone betrays him, he is loyal. Even when he broke away from Aüle and the other Valar, it was only because they betrayed him first. They hadn't recognized how bright and willing he was, how much he wanted someone to understand him without judgment, without silencing his aspirations.
Melkor saw him. He empowered him, recognized his talents, and guided him without stifling his ideas just because they might not be suitable for the rest of the races Eru created. Once he allied with Melkor, he never betrayed him. He's had some tactical retreats over the years, but not betrayed. Even now, if his lord were to return, he would serve him as in the earlier ages.
"But would it be worth it?" – The rebellious thought crossed his mind.
"Oh, my. What an exaggerated expression, Curunir. Afraid I'm going to do something extreme?" – He laughs a little, the boyish, mischievous laugh giving Anya the shivers because he looks so innocent when everything else is so terribly threatening.
"What will you do?" – The wizard finally speaks, caution in his expression.
"Mnn..." Sauron hummed, dimly aware that the particular habit of speaking in monosyllables had to go. It was the human thing, and he had no business copying her weird mannerisms.
"We've had some disagreements, but I can't just let go of an investment as good as you. So here's what I propose: let's forget the past and get on with our plan to rule Middle-earth. After all, we had a proper partnership that resulted in so much success, didn't we? It would be a shame to end it now that we are so close to having a real change in this place abandoned by the Powers."
"And would you just forgive my... past failures?" - The other asks, just a touch of meticulously intoned skepticism.
"When Mordor freezes over."
"You got a little curious about things you shouldn't, I got a little grumpy, but we've sorted that out, haven't we? What we want is bigger than a few minor disagreements."
The pseudo-human leaned forward, hands open, expression bland.
"I know what you want, Curunir. I've been there. Before there was Sun, before there was this Earth, before all this, when we were free to think what we wanted… Do you remember? When our Father still didn't have favorites, when all we wanted was for him to be proud of us? And we still do, I suppose. After all, isn't that what it's all about? Care and nurture so that his Vision for this Earth is the best, through our efforts?"
He has Saruman's attention; Of course, he does: he knew intimately what motivated him, what drove him to do what needed to be done, rather than sit back and watch Illúvatar's work be less than perfect.
"The Powers don't understand. They stand still while Men, Elves, and other creatures rule our Father's creation. They, instead of us. As if we were not greater in glory, power, and wisdom. As if it weren't the most foolish thing to leave such a wonderful work left by our Father in the hands of these children."
He sees the moment when the mage lets go of his anger at him and starts to agree, to let all frustration out.
"They led me to believe it was an important mission, but in the end, they sent us to babysit. I've gone to so much trouble to guide the Children of Eru, but they corrupt everything with mad decisions! Do I have to sacrifice my glory for this inferior garment, do I have to restrain the power that runs through me, and all for a bunch of ungrateful people who can't say a thank you? And when, by their own decisions, things go wrong, we are the first to be blamed. As if it were our obligation to care for the destinies themselves trace."
Sauron agrees with the wizard, then leans forward, his voice a friendly whisper.
"We are close to changing Middle-earth. With me, you can finally have what you've wanted – what you deserve. So what do you say, Curunir? Allies?"
Saruman looked at him, a brief hesitation within him, warning him of the visceral danger he would be putting himself in by accepting his offer. Not that he had any choice.
"These chains are the only thing between our alliance." – The Istari says, calculating.
"I have no intention of leaving an ally in these chains."
The "child" holds out his hands, hovering over the chains on the other's wrists for a moment before releasing him from those chains. He did the same to his ankles, watching as, in relief, the mage leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, relishing the power returning to him. He gets up, picks up a paintbrush that has been innocently lying on the table the whole time, and dips it in black ink.
He stands beside Saruman, who opens his eyes when his presence is sensed. Sauron is sure the human would be proud of the sweet smile on his face before doing something that, inevitably, the other would not like.
He grabs the wizard's face and with precision and speed, carves into his forehead a particularly useful kanji he learned from the human.
"You see, chains aren't quite my style; I prefer seals."
The other's eyes cloud over, and soon Saruman passed out in his chair.
"Zirgur." – He calls and the orc enters. – "Take him to the tent that has been prepared. Spread it among the others that the misunderstandings have been cleared up and that Saruman will return to wielding his... influence, as before the incident at the White Tower. But the orcs who deal directly with me, including you, will not heed any of his orders without first reporting to me. Do you understand?"
"Yes… sir." – The orc looks between them both, wary and a little confused by the sudden change in treatment with the istari, but withdraws and does as ordered.
Sauron sits back down, satisfied. Now Curunir would feel compelled to obey him and not to speak a word of who he was. He didn't like to fabricate loyalty, but it would serve him well in this situation.
Fuinjutsu was very useful.
"Oh, my God."
He hears some sobbing and sees Anya sitting on the floor, shaking pathetically and wide-eyed. "Y-you…you're him."
The woman cries. Sauron raises an eyebrow, uncomfortable with the panic he sees in her, and with the way she places her hand on her belly as if he were one of the brutes who nearly violated her before he saved her.
"You are S-Sauron!" – She chokes, crying and shaking her head.
"There we go again." – He sighs in exasperation as he contemplates that reaction for the thousandth time in his life. Every time he decided to assume another identity and someone ended up realizing he was Sauron there was that typical terrified reaction. Followed, usually, by irritating attempts to kill or stop him.
The noises she makes are annoying. In the past, he would just kill her to end the annoyance.
"But I don't need to kill her now, do I?" – The Dark Lord thinks, thoughtfully moving the brush in his hands. He gets up again and the woman is so frozen with fear that she does nothing but shake her head.
"That must not be good for the baby." - The thought occurs to him, while he tries to remember a way to calm her panic.
"Perhaps if I comfort her? Seemed to work with the Uchiha." – He crouched down to her level and attempted a smile before placing a kiss on her forehead.
"Don't cry, Anya. Everything is fine, shhh…" – He studies her to see if it's working. She looks positively more scared now.
He sighs.
"Well, I tried."
He paints a kanji on her forehead and holds her while she passes out. Even as he did, he wondered how he could have an entire era of peace to go ahead with his plans without interruption and without hiding, as he had done the other times. Though in the past twenty-five hundred years and a half he had made a lot of progress, it was a long and time-consuming process thanks to always keeping his identity hidden from pests like meddling wizards, pesky elves, and stupid men.
He was tired of always losing all his hard work after his identity as Sauron was discovered.
"What would the human do?" – He tilts his head thoughtfully. And then he remembers how Katsuo had once asked Kana something Riki hadn't seen at the time as relevant.
"Kana-nee-chan, what would you do if you were a missing-nin?"
Kana's look at Katsuo was as if the boy had grown a second head, utterly incredulous.
"I would never betray my village."
"I didn't say that, I'm just asking..."
"Don't. Just don't."
"Oh, come on, I'm just curious! They say missing-nin are hunted, so they must be skilled, right? How would you manage not to get caught?"
"It's impossible, sooner or later a missing-nin is captured and killed."
Katsuo pouts.
"You're not even going to think about it? I mean… what about that talk that we should imagine a powerful enemy to have tactics, if necessary?"
"Using my words against me, insolent brat?"
"It's working?"
She sighs.
"It is. For hypothetical purposes, and study of tactics... although I meant one enemy, not an entire nation hunting you... My plan would be..."
She stopped, frowning in concentration, and even Riki glanced in her direction curiously.
"Dying."
Sauron blinks rapidly, a contemplative expression as he forms the skeleton of a contingency plan, in case an eventuality prevents him from ruling Middle-earth. His contingency plan had many steps and would by no means be simple, but oh, would it be worth it to never be nagged again just because he was Sauron.
He had tried before, but for the first time, he felt like he had a real chance of being able to fool everyone. Definitely.
"Sauron must die."
It had been a terrible day. Not hearing from his younger brother after four months already stressed him out, but having to quell his soldiers' hostility towards the trouble-boy and his half-warg further aggravated his temper. He just wanted the pleasure of being in the company of the woman he loved, for a few hours to stop feeling the weight of his burdens, but even that ended badly when they argued again about when he was going to court her the right way.
Herminia screamed and cried, accusing him of always making excuses and not taking her seriously and Boromir, being the stupid man that he sometimes was, screamed back saying that he was trying to do his best but that with her past he would have been lucky if his father didn't desert him from the family.
He regretted it at the same time, but the words had already hurt and he accepted it with shame when she threw him out of her house. His somber mood only worsened when he thought of how, in a few hours, the Guardians of Ithilien would be off on yet another mission.
Boromir really did not want to leave on such bad terms with his lover, but he could blame no one but himself for what had happened.
When he counted the soldiers who would go with him, Boromir saw Katsuo ready with Raijin and ordered the boy to stay, more bluntly than he intended when the boy insisted on leaving with them.
Of course, his bad day turned into a bad week, when one of the ambushes went completely wrong, and the Haradrim on the limits of East Gondor outnumbered what he initially thought.
He and his men fought the enemy, trying at all costs to drive them away from any trail that led to Henneth Annûn's base, but the price was paid as more and more lives were taken.
Then, he was alone, wounded but still fighting.
He thought of Herminia; in the woman's brown curls, in her tanned skin, in her face with the adorable freckles and that smile full of secrets that he adores.
He thought of his younger brother; all grown up now, on a mission that would make their father proud and hopefully endear him more to Denethor.
He even thought about the problematic boy, worrying about his fate now that his death was imminent.
Then, a growl snaps him out of his incoherent thoughts as he fends off yet another enemy and Boromir's eyes widen as he sees Katsuo and Raijin, charging at the Haradrim and pulling up beside him.
"Told ya I could fight!" – The boy declares with a fierce smile, and Boromir wants to throttle him and hug him at the same time.
"I told you to stay in Gondor!"
"I am a soldier, remember? I live for battle!"
"By Eru, how did you manage to follow us unnoticed, boy!?"
The child – can he even call him a child when he is so skilled in battle? – has a smug expression and mutters a vague and irritating "hm".
But his anger doesn't last, not when they were cornered and all he could think about was how now the problematic boy was going to die with him. The enemies snarled in the black speech and he shuddered, knowing full well they were saying they would die.
"Not today, motherfuckers." – Katsuo says and Boromir feels the boy's hand grab his arm; before he can ask what the boy is thinking, the Gondorian has the craziest, strangest feeling of being squeezed and spit out as the world becomes a maelstrom of blurred impressions. When the sensation subsides, Boromir knows there has never been a time in his life that would be more confusing, surprising, and inducing questions about his sanity.
Because the open land and the enemies are gone. Instead, he was in what looked like a cave, some kind of strange shrine, with symbols he didn't understand etched all over the walls.
"No victory is final".
Sauron wipes the blood from his sword with a handkerchief; the guard's body fell forward, still clutching the punctured stomach. He sends a silent signal to the two orcs behind him, who are finishing killing the other warriors. Leaving the checkpoint, his footsteps were silent against the stone floor, as were the orcs behind him. A third orc hurried down the corridor, addressing him as he approached:
"Helm's Deep has been taken, my lord." – Fenrir said, pointing to the atrium inside the fortress. There, six other orcs piled up the dead warriors.
"Good job." – Sauron said distractedly, placing his hand on his chin thoughtfully.
Helm's Deep wasn't even a challenge. Of course, at least it served to test the skills of his elite orcs.
"I thought it a risky plan when you told me you would let the orcs be captured, even if you were under the illusion that made you look like Haradrim men. I didn't think orcs were fitted for infiltration. Now I see why you were so confident." - Curunír's voice takes him out of his thoughts, the wizard staying beside him as they both walked through the newly taken fortress with all the carelessness in the world.
"I trained them. Of course, the mission would be a success." – Sauron rolls his eyes.
"And is there any possibility of sharing some of these trained orcs?" – The wizard asks with a calculating glare. The dark lord hides a smile behind his hand, averting his face.
"I'll send you some when we're done cleaning up here. Now, we need to talk about the attack on Rohan."
"It won't be too difficult, I think. I have been making moves to destabilize the economy and food production has been reduced by storms and looting. The people are hungry and hopeless, unhappy with the king's latest decisions. When there is an attack, the orcs will find soldiers weakened and with little respect for the king. My spies report that the greatest threats are Prince Théodred and Éomer, the king's commander and nephew. They are men noted for their bravery in battle, and Éomer is a good tactician, I heard."
"Do you have more than one spy inside the palace?" – Sauron asks, and the wizard denies it. –"Relying on just one spy is not a good idea. What if he's a double agent?"
"Impossible." – Saruman sneered. — "The man is blinded by passion for the king's niece, and knows that he would never contract marriage by the usual means; he is not of noble blood, nor is he particularly valiant as a soldier. His only asset is as an adviser."
"Children of Eru always make stupid decisions out of love, don't they? Luck me."
"Anyway, look for allies among other nobles. Just in case your spy's 'blindness' is magically cured. He is not an elf; humans fall in love all the time."
The Istari nodded.
"About the fortress... if you'll excuse me, what are your plans?"
"Ah, Ah." – Sauron shook his finger in a negative. He had and placid smile on his face. – "Worry about Rohan, Curunír."
Sauron leaves the istari in the corridor, speculating, but he had the same doubt. He snaps his fingers and stretches as he enters the room he's chosen for himself within the fortress. It was probably designed for someone of high status. Removing his dirty clothes, he enters the bathroom, where hot water was already waiting for him to wash. It was a good idea to keep Anya; she was far more efficient than any orc would ever be at managing everyday tasks. Though, he hoped she'd ordered Zirgur to fill the tub; she wasn't supposed to carry anything heavy until the baby was born.
He walks in, feeling his lean, childish muscles relax, closing his eyes with a deep breath.
"No victory is final". – The human's phrase is repeated more and more with each passing day; he blames that woman's paranoia because clearly, he has the upper hand in any war that might come to pass. Mordor and Dol-Guldur are full of his servants, he has his wraiths as commanders, the mines of Moira were also taken, and he had the Haradrim and their oliphants, easterners of Rhûn, Variags of Khand, besides the orcs and trolls. There is no way he wouldn't win.
But he had already thought that before and, as the human said, he always had the victory for a defined period.
"Well, you should have told me how to solve this problem… Wait. She said It."
Sauron settled in the bath, pausing the wash when the thought occurred to him.
"I've always thought the feudal lord thing is pretty much a hoax. I don't know how the hidden villages haven't figured it out yet – no, actually, I think they already do, but it works just fine for the purposes of the hokages and feudal lords." – She had said it once when they were talking about clan politics and the form of government of Elemental nations.
"What do you mean?" – He asked. Katsuo was sleeping with Eiko, but Riki always relished conversations with Kana.
"They pretend they hate each other and everything, but it's all about always having a bigger problem to solve. Imagine that civilians and shinobi no longer had each other to blame for a conflict: there would be a revolt between individuals and a coup d'état. So the best thing a dictator could do is to team up with other dictators and always create a problem to be solved; create a conflict, escalate it, distract people from the real source of dissatisfaction."
"Kana-nee-chan, what would you do if you were someone in power?" – Riki had asked. And Sauron, for the moment, was very pleased that his Uchiha counterpart was so competent and asked relevant questions to that human. And, oh, how deliciously detailed the human was in her hypothetical plan to stay in power.
In the end, there was a way a victory could be final – Kana herself provided the answer.
"Even in death you are useful, Kana-nee-chan!" - The Maia thinks, not realizing the affectionate way in which he thought of the human.
"What sorcery is this?" – Boromir mutters, incredulous, and then realizes that there is still an arm holding him. Katsuo is stunned as he is looking around.
"Katsuo, did you do this?"
The boy just nods his head.
The warrior's mouth opens and closes and he runs a hand through his hair, getting up and pacing, all the while thinking about how he's going to explain to his father that his protégé was a fucking wizard.
"Damn. My father will kill him if I tell."
"You are a wizard. You are like Saruman." – Boromir finally snaps, a little hurt seeping into his voice.
"If? What the hell am I thinking, I have to tell dad. Damn, damn, why am I the commander again?" – The regent's son thinks apprehensively.
"I'm not a wizard! And don't compare me to the bastard who killed my sister!" – Katsuo yells back angrily and Boromir feels some of his anger subside with the reminder that Katsuo still had every reason in the world to hate that particular mage.
"If you're not a wizard, how did you get us here?"
"Well, I...!"
"...stupid duties of the nobility that just fuck everyone I care about..."
Boromir interrupts his thoughts and desire to demand answers abruptly when he notices Katsuo's stunned silence.
"Katsuo?"
"...I brought us… I-I did it... We're here..."
The boy says as if he doesn't believe what he has done, but something tells Boromir that it isn't necessarily a good thing.
Mainly because the boy is shaking.
"What would make the boy who faced enemies until a second ago without fear tremble now?"
"Where is it here?"
That finally made Katsuo look him in the eyes. He didn't like the fear he saw written on his face.
"Home."