The Fellowship of the Pen

by Sauron Gorthaur

When the most dangerous and powerful of all Suethor weapons falls into the hands of the LOTR characters and their Sue-slaying protectors, a new quest begins: with Legolas as the Pen-bearer and a Fellowship that, if possible, is even stranger than the last one.

9. Villains Are a Pain in the You-Know-What

Chapter 8: Villains are a Pain in the You-Know-What

"All right, I've got one."

"Um, is it a person?"

"No."

"Is it a thing?"

"Yes."

"Is it a specific thing? Like Fatty's button collection, not mushrooms or something general like that?"

"Umm, yes, it's something specific."

"Is it something from the Shire?"

"No."

"It is something that's ever been in the Shire?"

"Yes."

"How many questions am I at?"

"Uh, five. But that question about the question makes six."

"Hey! That one wasn't part of the game!"

"You didn't specify that it wasn't."

"It was obvious! Give me my question back!"

Hawk gave Porter a long look as her Sue-Slaying partner trotted alongside her, radiating far too much blithe innocence for her tastes. "You just had to go and teach Merry and Pippin how to play Twenty Questions, didn't you?"

Porter gave her an unrepentant grin. "Ah, come on, Hawk. They've got to do something to pass the time."

Hawk massaged her temples. "Because Valar forbid we should all just walk quietly for a while, enjoying the scenery and contemplating important questions like the meaning of Life."

"I'm pretty sure that's already been answered and the answer is 42."

Hawk gave a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. Just do me a favor and refrain from teaching Faramir and Éowyn how to play Peter Pancake, will you?"

"Well, if you really want them to go back to singing walking songs and arguing and complaining and all that, I suppose I can let them."

"Argh!" said Hawk and sped up her pace.

As best as anyone could tell, afternoon was waxing late in Middle Earth, and as of yet there had been no serious set-backs since the MSAN Suethor that morning. The forest undergrowth was blessedly limited to delicate ferns and sweet-smelling flowers of unnaturally large sizes and colors, making the going considerably easier than it would have been in a normal forest. A few times they had been victims of more disconcerting space glitches like that one that had abruptly dropped them into the forest, but so far no hostiles had attacked or even shown so much as a dainty ankle.

As such, Fellowship morale seemed decently high. Faramir and Éowyn were holding hands and making plans for a dream home in Ithilien, Gimli was gushing to Legolas about how he was sure Galadriel had smiled at him yesterday during the Briefing, and Merry and Pippin didn't seem like they'd be getting tired of Twenty Questions anytime in the near future.

That just left Sauron. The Dark Lord was trailing at the end of the Fellowship, just far enough back to be anti-social, and had been muttering darkly to himself in a combination of Black Speech and archaic Quenya for the last several hours.

To be honest, Hawk was starting to regret the decision of choosing Sauron as the ninth member of the Fellowship. Everyone else was getting along perfectly fine. Boromir had been the detrimental crack in the Fellowship of the Ring, and more and more Hawk was getting the sneaking suspicion that sooner or later Sauron would prove the lethal fracture in the Fellowship of the Pen. She hoped she was wrong, but so far Sauron's attitude was giving her hope a foundation about as trustworthy as a particularly soggy patch of the Dead Marshes.

Making herself a mental note, Hawk resolved to discuss the issue later with Porter when they had some measure of privacy.

~o~o~o~

As it turned out, Éowyn Shieldmaiden had always wanted to try her hand at landscaping. "What if we diverted a stream and ran it down over terraces by the house and out to the horse pasture? What do you think? Wouldn't that be lovely? Wouldn't it be romantic to fall asleep every night to the sound of running water?"

"I think that sounds wonderful, sweetheart. Wait, what? We're going to have a horse pasture?"

"Well, obviously."

"You do know that Ithilien is a forest, right?"

"I'm not living without horses, Faramir."

"No, no, of course not. It just might…well…be a smaller pasture than what you're used to."

Éowyn considered this, her head tilted thoughtfully to one side. "I guess I can live with that," she conceded, then she smiled almost slyly at the Ranger and hooked her arm through his. "After all, I'm getting a tall, dark, and handsome prince of Gondor out of this deal." Leaning into him, she pecked him on the corner of his mouth.

Faramir went starry-eyed. "Dear Valar, I can't wait for the War to end," he sighed, looking at Éowyn adoringly. "I mean, not that I'm looking forward to having my whole family dead or anything, but no more orc raids, no more Ranger scouting missions, our own little place together, marriage…" He looked off into the distance wistfully. "It is going to be amazing when that Ring is destroyed."

"Oh, there's sympathy for you," a sardonic voice behind them sneered. "And everyone accuses me of being heartless!"

"You know," Faramir said, the dreamy expression evaporating as he turned around to glare at Sauron, who was still trailing at the end of the procession, "if you want people to stop rejoicing at the prospect of your destruction, you might start by NOT TRYING TO DESTROY OUR WORLD!"

"I'm not trying to destroy Middle-earth," Sauron sniffed indignantly, radiating injured innocence.

"Take it over then."

"No, I'm trying to order it to my will. There's a difference," the Dark Lord said with a slight pout in his voice.

"Mmhmm, whatever you say," Éowyn chipped in on the argument, glaring daggers at the Lord of the Rings. "Just as long as you know we don't want to have anything to do with it. And for the record, I'm going to party when you die."

"Shut up, you stinking horsegirl," Sauron snarled at her, his tone snapping from misunderstood to vicious more quickly than a hobbit fleeing Farmer Maggot's dogs.

Éowyn pulled her arm from Faramir. "I do not stink!"

"Yes, you do. You smell like one of your dirty stables."

"She does not," Faramir shot back hotly. "And you're one to talk. What perfumes do you prefer anyway? Luscious Orc Decay? Sulfurous Volcanic Delight?"

"Shut up," said Sauron.

"You shut up."

There was absolute silence. Everyone else in the Fellowship had ceased their individual conversations to witness the smackdown.

Sauron's face went darker than usual. "I'm the Dark Lord! You don't tell me to shut up! I'm the only one who tells anyone to shut up!"

"No, I'm the only one who tells anyone to shut up," said Hawk in a dangerous voice without turning around. "And if I hear anyone else other than me tell anyone else to shut up, I'm going to make sure they really do shut up. Permanently. Got it?"

For a while after that, the Fellowship trudged on through the forest in morose silence.

~o~o~o~

"Can we speak to whoever's currently in charge of this establishment?"

A Nazgûl opened the gate of Barad-dûr and stared blankly at the two Sue-Slayers standing on the causeway. True, "blank" was pretty much the only expression you generally got from someone whose face was invisible, but this Nazgûl seemed even more blank than usual.

"I cannot answer that question," the Nazgûl replied in a monotone, like its voice had been recorded. "My Master, Lord Sauron, gave no instructions concerning that matter."

Pixie stepped up next to Thor, wearing a smile that was a tad forced. "Could ye then perhaps inform us as to who might be able t' answer our questions?"

"I cannot answer that question. My Master, Lord Sauron, gave no instructions concerning that matter."

Pixie's face began to take on that strained expression that says I'm smiling as hard as I can so I don't strangle someone. "I don't suppose there's anything useful ye can actually tell us?"

"I cannot answer that question. My Master, Lord Sauron-"

"All right! All right! I ken, I ken. Ye cannae do anythin' wi'out Lord's Sauron's permission, I ken," Pixie exploded. "Gah! Talk about mindless minions: they're useless!"

A chuckle sounded from their right. "It's not really their fault." The Sue-Slayers turned to see the Mouth of Sauron leaning casually against the gate, holding a goblet of wine which he sipped at nonchalantly. Despite popular misconceptions, the lieutenant of Barad-dûr did not have a particularly noteworthy mouth and was additionally not too bad looking, especially considering he was over a thousand years old.

"They're designed to respond perfectly and immediately to our Lord's will," the Mouth said, with a nod towards the unresponsive Nazgûl. "Making decisions for themselves, not so much." He smirked. "Which is why, in our Lord's absence, I will be happy to assist you in whatever way I can…providing it's of benefit to Mordor, of course." He gave a little nod to the entrance hall behind him. "Welcome to the Dark Tower."

An hour later, Thor and Pixie emerged, looking frazzled but relieved to have the meeting done with. They headed over the causeway together, ignoring the Nazgûl who was still standing indifferently by the gate where they'd left him. The Mouth had agreed to offer Barad-dûr as the villains' safe haven for the time being, although Pixie was pretty sure there were ulterior motives at work.

"Am I th' only one who feels th' Mouth agreed to this simply in th' hopes that he can coerce th' majority of Saruman's army to switch loyalties while they're here?"

Thor guffawed. "Bit transparent, isn't he? Ah well, it isn't like Saruman won't try the exact same thing while he's here. Villains will be villains."

Pixie swung her wand in circles from her hand. "What do ye say, frizz-bucket? Take a hiatus to hunt down some Sues or go straightaway to deal wi' that numpty Saruman?"

Thor stroked his beard like some ancient sage. "As my people say: Bring meat and ale to the man returned from battle, for he has earned it. Suppose we should get the worst over with and then the Sues'll seem like a breadwalk."

"It's a cakewalk, ye blabberin' lump o' muscle. Ye need less brawn on yer arms an' more between yer ears. I say we should hunt down some Sues first, t' keep th' population to a reasonable horde. They're probably already overrunnin' th' place while we were busy in Barad-dûr."

Thor chuckled and held up his Sue medallion. "No need to fret. I sent in a call to HQ for backup, seeing how bad it was here and knowing we needed some spare time to organize defenses. Dena Milo is meeting up with us at the Gap of Rohan."

"Ugh, what? No!" Pixie groaned overdramatically and ran her hands down her face. "Why'd ye do somethin' like that, ye eejit-box? We've got everythin' perfectly under control wi'out that prissy, tawdry alien gettin' in th' way. And please, please, please tell me she's not bringin' that chatterin', thievin' fuzzball Figlock wi' her."

"Well, of course she's bringing Figlock!" Thor said with a grin, clearly enjoying his partner-cum-girlfriend's dramatic reaction. "KI Rule #7: Never Jump alone."

"Ye dinnae have t' quote th' rules to me," Pixie growled, shoving her wand back into her belt. "All right, fine – Saruman, it is. But if that pasty-faced hussy makes a single comment, a single comment I warn ye, I'm sendin' her back to th' Hub wi' a curse on her ridiculous face." She punctuated the threat with a jab of her forefinger into Thor's chest.

The Nordic Sue-Slayer chortled and pushed her finger away brightly. "The day will come when I'll make friends out of you two yet. Come on, my teeny, tiny firecracker, off to Isengard."

Turning, he started tromping loudly towards the Black Gates. As he went, strains of raucous, off-key singing drifted back to Pixie. "We're off to see the wizard…"

Pixie rolled her eyes and followed.

~o~o~o~

Night arrived in Middle Earth with an effect like someone putting on a massive CD labeled "Background Night Noises." The moment darkness fell, nightingales began warbling from every tree, owls hooted plaintively in the distance, and crickets started to hum melodiously (actually hum – so far, Hawk had caught strains of "Evenstar," "Call Me Maybe", "Let It Go," and something Hawk was pretty sure was Taylor Swift).

They had also finally found the forest edge.

The trees ended abruptly, their voluminous canopy disappearing into the starlit darkness that had enveloped the world after a brief but startlingly brilliant sunset streaked with shades of blinding purple, red, and pink that probably had flamboyant names like mauveine and sangria that only a Suethor would bother describing. Beyond the trees, the glittering starlight illuminated gentle rolling hills in the distance and the Misty Mountin range still running to their left.

"Psst, everyone, come look at this."

Hawk hadn't even noticed that Faramir had slipped away from the group until she looked around to find him beckoning them from a bend in the forest's fringe. Leading the way, she and Porter hurried over to see what the Ranger had discovered. Nestled into the forest was a small alcove perfectly sized for a group of nine, overhung with trees but open on one side to the grassland as if it had been carved out of the forest for the sole purpose of camping, though there was no sign of tampering with the foliage or undergrowth. There was even a little dip in the middle, perfect for a campfire, and a rocky outcrop by the entrance that just about screamed "look-out post." Scanning the area with practiced eyes, Hawk even noted a few rounded stones scattered about, as if they were just hanging out waiting to be turned into a firepit.

"Well, well, isn't this convenient?" Hawk commented dryly, hands on her hips.

"Do you think it's a trap?" Merry asked.

Hawk and Porter exchanged looks then examined their Sue medallions in tandem, but neither device was acting any stranger than it had all day. "I doubt it's a trap," Hawk said pensively. "My guess, it's a natural part of the Sue environment. Because, you know, having perfect campsites ready for your travelers always makes things easier and who doesn't like a little campfire romance to spice up the story?"

She shook her head in disgust. "We might as well make use of it since it's here. Porter and I will do a perimeter check to make sure no one's lurking. Faramir, Legolas, Sauron, gather some firewood; my guess is there'll be plenty in the vicinity. Éowyn, Gimli, gather some of those stones for a firepit. Merry, Pippin, pick something for supper. We'll be back shortly."

Faramir hesitated. "Do you think lighting a fire is wise? On the edge of the forest, the light would be visible for miles."

Porter waved his hand airily. "The Sues'll know we're here way before the see the fire. They can sense Essence of Hot Elf for leagues."

"Of course they can," Legolas sighed heavily. "Why am I not surprised in the least?"

"Don't you mean 'Why doesn't that surprise me?'" Porter asked him with a totally irreverent grin. Legolas just gave him a confused look.

"Stop tormenting the elf and get over here to help with the perimeter check," Hawk said from the other side of the clearing, giving Porter a no-nonsense glare.

Upon returning, the Sue-Slayers found a hearty fire dancing in the middle of the campsite with the Fellowship gathered around toasting cheese sandwiches. Merry and Pippin were leaning back against two larger rocks that had been hauled over, both of them smoking happily. Éowyn was buttering bread, and Faramir, Gimli, and Legolas were spearing the sandwiches with green twigs to suspend them over the fire. They made room for the KI agents as they dropped down beside them. Faramir handed them each a sandwich.

"Any signs of danger?" he asked as Porter bit eagerly into the delicious combination of crunchy bread and gooey cheese.

Hawk poked at her sandwich, which was steaming on a leaf napkin. "Nothing to cause immediate alarm. We'll have to post guards through the night though."

"Why do you think they haven't attacked yet?" Legolas asked quietly. "They've got to know we're here."

Hawk kept her eyes down, resisting the urge to exchange a glance with Porter. "Oh, most certainly. But if I had to guess, they aren't sure what to make of us being here." She set her sandwich down on the rock in front of her, tapping her knee with her fingers. "They're used to invading your world, not the other way around, which probably has got their tiny brains tied in knots, at least until they work things out and realize we've got the Pen. Once they do however, you can expect trouble and plenty of it, so be grateful for the respite while we have it."

"Hawk, Hawk, Doom and Gloom," Porter mumbled brightly around his food. He shoved her sandwich back towards her. "Get your gob around that and maybe it'll stop spouting prophecies of Death, Destruction, and Darkness. Seriously, you could earn a nickname like 'Miss Mandos' going on like that."

Hawk took her sandwich and blew on it, giving Porter a severe look. "Here's a Prophecy of Doom for you: In the hour of Dread in which thou darest call me 'Miss Mandos,' thy head shall become acquainted with the hardest and most unbreakable end of my crossbow. Tears unnumbered ye shall shed…"

"All right, all right, I get it." Porter grinned and lounged back, taking another monster bite from his sandwich. He glanced around the fire then frowned. "Speaking of Death, Destruction, and Darkness, where's Sauron?"

Hawk sat bolt upright, realizing with a feeling like the bottom of her stomach dropping out that she hadn't seen the Dark Lord since they'd left for the perimeter check. She wasn't sure however if the sensation of dread came from the realization that she'd failed to even notice that one of her charges was missing or from the anxiety that Sauron might be doing something that he really shouldn't be doing.

No one else in the Fellowship seemed concerned however. Faramir shrugged dismissively and jerked his head towards the underhanging darkness of the forest behind them. "He said he doesn't do 'campfire scenes.' He's over there in the darkness somewhere by himself."

Porter frowned. "Have you at least invited him to have some food?"

Everyone gave indifferent shrugs, unconcerned headshakes, or some combination thereof. Clearly, no one was bothered by the Dark Lord's absence.

Porter sighed. "Oh come on, he's part of the group too. You should at least offer him some food."

Faramir shrugged again. "It won't do any good. But if you wish…"

He raised his voice and shouted unceremoniously at the forest fringe. "Sauron! You want a sandwich?"

Sauron's voice filtered back through the darkness, though the Lord of the Rings remained unseen. "No, I don't! Shove off!"

"Fine!" Faramir shouted back. He turned around and gave Porter a look that said: Told you so. Happy now?

Porter just shook his head, sighed, and returned to attacking his sandwich.

The evening wore on. The fire dimmed. Hawk had taken first watch on the look-out rock, while Porter lounged at the edge of the camp, keeping an eye on everyone and munching on a bag of potato chips. Legolas lay on his side by the embers, singing a soft song in Sindarin that cast a drowsy lull over the rest of the Fellowship. The hobbits were still sending lazy smoke rings up into the night, while Gimli sat cross-legged beside them, staring thoughtfully into the fire and humming quietly along to Legolas's hymn in a deep, gravelly voice. On the opposite side of the fire, Faramir and Éowyn were cuddled up in the Ranger's cloak, making out contentedly. And though no one quite knew when it had happened, even Sauron had emerged, sitting at the very edge of the firelight, his back to a tree and his armored legs drawn up in front of him, scribbling away furiously at a black leather book propped in front of him, only stopping occasionally to cast disdainful, imperious looks at his various traveling companions.

Legolas's song ended, and a silence that was almost peaceful fell over the small group. Faint kissing sounds drifted over from Faramir and Éowyn's side of the campfire, mingling with the nightingale music and the crickets humming "Can You Feel the Love Tonight."

The utopian atmosphere was abruptly interrupted by over-dramatic, pointed gagging from Sauron, who had looked up from his writing to fix a disgusted glare on the mortal lovers. Startled from their rest by the violent noise, everyone switched their attention between the Dark Lord and the two humans, sensing another showdown.

Éowyn disentangled herself unhurriedly from Faramir and returned Sauron's glare dagger for dagger. "You have a problem, Dark Lord?" she shot at him, her gaze like a double-edged sword just daring him to comment.

Sauron leaned back, wearing a sneer of perfected contempt. "Oh please," he snarled. "I thought we were here to destroy the bloody Sues. I fail to see how that's going to happen when you're the prime example of one yourself. If we're going to do our job properly, we should leave you behind with the rest of the Sues. Besides, you're making me sick."

Éowyn pushed Faramir's cloak back, freeing her arms. Her hands curled into fists and her grey eyes blazed. "Oh, you're suddenly feeling patriotic about our mission or something? And I'm sorry, my lord, but I wasn't aware that we exist solely for your pleasure."

Sauron arched an eyebrow at that, then started scribbling again airily. "Perhaps you don't yet, but don't think I'm not going to do everything in my power to bend all of you witless heroes to my will, regardless of how you think the stupid story is going to end. You can start by not having Sue love fests in my presence."

Éowyn clenched her teeth, looking like she was about to take a swing at the Dark Lord. Faramir gave her hand a gentle squeeze, but she snorted, pushing his hand away and standing up to face off against Sauron. "If you don't like it, why don't you skulk back into your dark hole in the forest? Or just go home? It's not as if any of us actually want you here."

"Hawk and Porter want me here," Sauron said smugly.

Éowyn made a strangled sound of suppressed rage. Her voice was clipped with anger and aversion. "I bet they're double-guessing their decision, considering what a troll-face you've been all day. Not that I'd expect anything less from someone who sends armies to mow down helpless villages and murders people's uncles with monsters."

"It's not murder when it's the middle of a battle," Sauron sniffed, still maintaining his maddening unruffled exterior, clearly aware of how pig-headed he was being and enjoying the Shieldmaiden's subsequent wrath. "Now shoo. You're interrupting my work."

"Oh, and what evil devices are you gracing us with now? Decided to take up journaling in the spare moments when you aren't trying to ruin our lives? Ooo, Sauron the Dark Journalist – I tremble with fear."

Sauron gave her a haughty look. "I'm staying sane around all you vile heroes."

"Don't you have to already be sane to stay sane?"

"Oooo, burn," Merry said gleefully from where he and Pippin were watching the fight eagerly and looking disappointed that they hadn't brought popcorn.

Sauron turned his nose up at Éowyn. "Says the woman who dressed up like a man and tried to get herself killed on a battlefield by facing off against a monster and a wraith lord. Hah, don't preach sanity to me."

"Well, at least my insane plan worked out for me, unlike certain idiots whose insanity involves putting all their power into a tiny object, losing it, and then proceeding to not protect the one place it could be destroyed."

Finally, Éowyn had hit a nerve. Sauron tossed his book to the side, swelling with wrath. "It was surrounded by bloody orcs and Nazgûl and a giant spider. It was protected!"

"Hey, hey, hey," Porter interrupted, jumping between the two before things could get physical. "I think everyone just needs to take a few deep breaths and calm down. We're all on the same side here."

Éowyn gave Sauron one last death glare before turning back to Faramir, but not without a parting shot. "If you think he's on any side except his own, you are sorely mistaken."

~o~o~o~

"Ahoy up there. Relief has arrived."

Hawk glanced around as Porter's voice filtered through the night noises cocooning the darkness. Reaching down, she helped her partner up onto the large, flat-topped rock that was serving as the sentry post. All was quiet in the camp behind them, the rest of the Fellowship having long since settled down and gone to sleep.

"How's it looking?"

Hawk narrowed her eyes, scanning the starlit landscape. "Everything's quiet for the moment. But we're being watched."

"Hmm," Porter said, "so you've been feeling it too?"

Hawk gave him a cursory glance. "We picked someone up in the forest. That's when the feeling started anyway. She's keeping her distance, but I can guarantee we'll get company tomorrow."

"It's not like Sues to restrain themselves, especially with Leggiechops in the vicinity. Think she's worried about us?"

Hawk shrugged. "Hard to say, but I'm not wild about the situation. There's nothing we can do at the moment though. We'll have to wait for her to make the first move, and then we can deal with whatever this Sue world has to bring."

Porter stretched, then wriggled his behind down into the rock, trying to find a comfortable position for his watch. "Well, don't worry about it anymore tonight. You go get some shut-eye, Milady Quest-Mistress, and I'll stand watch. Or sit watch. Why don't they ever sit watch in the stories?"

"Probably so they don't fall asleep, which I trust you're not going to do," Hawk said with mock severity. She glanced towards the camp, hesitated, then turned back to Porter. "But before I go, there's something I want to discuss with you while the others are asleep."

Porter was fitting a quarrel into his crossbow, but glanced up with raised eyebrows. "Fire away."

Hawk eyed the camp again then lowered her voice. "I'm starting to wonder if we made the right choice with all the members of this Fellowship."

Porter frowned. "Sauron?"

Hawk rolled her eyes. "Who else?"

"Funny you should say that…" Porter clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I know he's a bit moody, but I still say he just needs time to warm up to the group. I hold by what I said at the Council. We need the support of the villains as much as the heroes to win this thing, and Sauron's the Dark Lord for the job. He'll be able to help us, I'm sure of it."

"Maybe he's able, but will he help us?" Hawk was already shaking her head. "Forgive me if I'm not so optimistic. Just look at today. He's been deliberately picking fights and causing problems since we started. Everything fine, then he opens his mouth and everything goes straight to the Void. That in and of itself concerns me. If we have any chance of completing this Quest, we need high morale and everyone needs to trust each other. Sauron constantly picking fights and getting everyone riled up is going to drive a crack right down the center of this group when we most need to stay strong."

Porter was reluctantly shaking his head. "Maybe you're right, Hawk. He has been a bit of a downer."

"You think?" Hawk snorted, then tapped her fingers restlessly against the butt of her crossbow. "But that's not even the worst of it. Porter, how do we know he's really going to help us in the end? Do you truly think he cares whether that Pen gets destroyed as long as he benefits one way or the other? He knows how his story ends back in Middle-earth. What's going to keep him from deciding it might be to his advantage to bump off a few characters in a Sue world to disrupt the Story and hijack it for his own gain? It's not like he's got morals or something. Who knows what a disaster like that could do. He could kill Éowyn and win the Battle of Pelennor, and that's just one example. He's worse than Boromir in the Fellowship of the Ring. He's a ticking time-bomb. Sauron's not just a liability to our Fellowship; he's an outright threat. He could single-handedly ruin this Quest and the History of Middle-earth forever."

"Why, thank you. It's gratifying to know that someone around here understands and appreciates my power and influence."

Sauron was standing a few feet away, leaning against a tree and wearing an expression of diabolical smugness.

Hawk and Porter nearly fell backwards off the look-out rock.

"I just have a few comments to make," Sauron said, ignoring the Sue-Slayers' shock and the looks of horror growing like parasites on their faces. "First, I dislike people talking about me behind my back, but I shall magnanimously forgive you, seeing as you weren't actually talking behind my back since I was facing you the whole time. Second, I do have morals; most of them are just different from yours. Third, I take offense to being compared even in passing to that indecisive fool Boromir who couldn't even take the Ring from someone half his size when it was dangling under his nose for months and totally botched it when he finally tried. Fourth, it may come as a complete shock to you and I doubt you'll believe a word that comes out of my evil, lying mouth, but I do want to see the Sues and that Pen destroyed, if for no other reason than teaching them a lesson for attempting a second-rate copy-cat rendering of my War. After the Sues are destroyed…well, I make no promises about then, but I'll throw the Pen in the Hearth of Doom myself if I have to." He tapped his teeth with a mailed forefinger. "I think that's it: I'll let you know if I think of any other objections."

Hawk's stomach felt like it was doing unpleasant flips. "What do you think you're doing, Sauron?"

Sauron snorted. "What do I think I'm doing? Gathering information, obviously. I believe the word you sorts use for it is 'eavesdropping' though."

"I thought you were asleep over there with the rest of the group!"

"Nope, guess not."

Porter's shock had melted away to an abashed expression. "Sauron, we're sorry. We…we really didn't mean what we said, that we don't trust you, it's just that…well…it's just that…"

Sauron gave a short, humorless laugh. "Oh please, you think I've never heard worse?" He pushed himself up from the tree nonchalantly. "I know everyone here would be much happier with me back in Middle-earth. But I'm here, aren't I? And you all can do whatever you want, but I plan on seeing those Sues put back in their rightful place. That'll teach them to try to conquer my world."

He gave them a last sardonic stare, his fiery eyes flickering uncannily. "Not that a ticking time-bomb is to be trusted or anything, but there you have it."

He flashed them a sickly sweet smile. "Have a nice night." And then he vanished back into the darkness of the forest.

Hawk exchanged a horrified look with Porter. "Well…crap," she said.