"Ever since my childhood I had known Joan the Maid, who was born at Domremy, the daughter of Jacques d'Arc and Isabelle who were man and wife, honest farmers and true Catholics of good reputation. I know this because I was very often with Joan, and being her friend, I went to her father's house. However, I do not remember anything about her godfathers or godmothers, except by hearsay, for Joan was three or four years older than I, by what they said.

...Joan was a good, simple, sweet girl. She often and gladly went to church and the holy shrines, and she was often put to shame by what people said about her devotion as a churchgoer. I have heard the priest who was the vicar in her time say that she confessed often. Joan worked just like the other young girls. She did the household chores and spun, and sometimes, I have seen her, she watched her father's flocks.

I have been with Joan the Maid, who was my friend, and the other girls and boys to the Fairies' Tree on Fountains Sunday. We used to eat there and dance and play. I did not know when Joan went away, but I cried very bitterly about her going. I loved her very dearly, you see, because she was so kind, and I was her friend…" Hauviette- Close friend of Joan testifying at Joan's Rehabilitation Trial

Chapter Two: The Aftermath

The crickets singing their nightly springtime songs were a delightful song that matched the soft light of a town lit up with torches. A soft, warm glow greeted a sleeping girl's vision. Slowly opening her eyes, she wiped away the exhaustion.

She felt like she was a cloud. Though this was not heaven. Sitting up, she could see the town was abuzz with activity. "What's going on…?" She asked herself.

Looking around the room, she was in her sibling's bedroom, noting the four beds, her own the closest to the window. Pulling back the wool blanket, she found herself, she smiled. Momma must have taken her to bed.

"You acted most bravely, my little shepherdess!"

Practically jumping out of bed in fear, she turned to see the robe-clad virgin Saint Catherine with a warm smile.

"Dear Catherine!" Jeanne immediately relaxed, dropping her pillow. "You frightened me!"

Catherine pondered the moment, tapping her chin in thought. "My apologies, young one. Next time, I'll announce myself. I was sent here to congratulate you!"

Jeanne's smile faltered; shoulders slumped at the praise, "But I didn't do anything… I just… did."

Catherine nodded understandingly, "Exactly. You played your part in today's events. Were you not there, your church would have burned down, and everyone slaughtered."

Jeanne's frown grew, "I.. this is a hard thing to accept… I don't doubt it… I just feel like this is a dream."

Catherine laughed, standing up, "Truly, it's the revelation still in your heart. Give it time, for God is at work in your heart. Keep close to Him, and He will always be with him."

Jeanne stood up, dropping to her knees on the hard, cold wooden floor, "May it always be so."

"It is time for me to de-"

"Wait! Beloved Catherine! I have a question."

Catherine paused, with a curious look, "What is it, Jeanne?"

"I know… I know I shouldn't ask… but… but my sister, she wishes to meet you."

The saint looked at her, considering the request. Walking up to the young shepherdess, she offered the girl her hand. "My dear Jeanne, your sister will see me. I will personally escort her to Heaven. Until then, she needs patience."

"That is more than a blessing! Thank you, Saint Catherine!"

The Saint departed, the soft white glow slowly fading away into the dark of night. Still basking in the afterglow, Jeanne paused, thanking God for the inspiration. Looking underneath her bed, she found her leather shoes which she slipped on. The steps creaked with each footstep. Pappa is going to have to reinforce them again.

Oh well. Reaching the bottom, she found a table set with a wooden bowl and spoon. There was no mistaking the odor. It was Mother's best dish! Walking over, she took the bowl and whiffed the sweet aroma of the Garbure. Taking a hearty spoonful, she took a bite. Onions check. Ham Check. Cabbage check. Carrots check. And the secret ingredient.

Apples and pears.

Most certainly check.

After four spoonfuls, the bowl was empty, and Jeanne's hunger sated. She would have to thank Momma for such a good bowl. She must have known it truly delighted her Dandelion when she used more pears than apples. Pears were better than apples, after all.

Taking the bowl to the kitchen, Jeanne grabbed the washcloth, scrubbed intently. A clean bowl makes a happy eater, after all. After some vigorous white knuckle scrubbing, the bowl was taken out of the washbasin and placed on a wool towel to dry. Noticing her hands were still wet, she patted them down on her skirt.

Satisfied, Jeanne opened the door to be greeted with a festive celebration. Garlands were hung high between the overhang homes. Candles were lit in all the houses, even the ones that were burned down. The cobblestone walls had candles helping to light the paths the overhead lanterns missed. A great many people were singing and dancing to fifes, drums, and even Sir Monroe had his lute, playing to the people's delight.

The parish church was adorned in wreaths and flowers. Just below the steps were feast day tables and benches where the people of Domremy would put out for celebrations as the whole community. "Ah, finally awake, are you?"

She looked over to her older brother, Pierre standing leaning up against the wall. He was unmistakable in the village, tall for a sixteen-year-old, nearly reaching six feet, yet he had no muscle. He preferred to work on projects that required a fine eye and attention to detail, like carpentry and metallurgy. Numerous times the citizens came to him to repair this thing and that. His slim, deft fingers were excellent in repairing fine-tuned parts of a crossbow. The young man swept back his scraggly mop of hair that sat on his head. He was long overdue for a haircut, considering they hid his father's hazel eyes.

He draped his scraggly, thin arm around his sister, "I heard everything you did today, dear sister!"

"I did nothing. All things were in God's hands." Jeanne murmured shyly.

"You are too modest!" He laughed, "Who knows, you might even be the Maid of Lorraine!"

Jeanne turned to face her brother with a sharp look, "You must never call me that." She scolded her older brother, "I am maid of prophecy. I'm a farm girl. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Pierre's carefree attitude dropped, his arm falling away, "I'm sorry, dear sister… please don't be cross with me."

Her stern look instantly faded away, "No, Pierre, please forgive me… It's been a stressful day with today's events…" She bowed her head, "I was most impatient with you."

"I'm glad you weren't harmed, my sister… I wish I was here to defend our home."

The idea made her smile, "Dear Pierre, you were where you needed to be, just as I was where I needed to be."

"Still…" Pierre murmured to himself; he gestured for her to follow, "Domremy wanted to throw a celebration…."

Jeanne looked up at her brother with a curiosity, "What for?"

"What do you, sheep-for-brain," He teased, booping her on the nose, which she tried to swat away, "You saved the village."

"I already-"

"Yes, you didn't do anything, I know." Pierre laughed, patting her on the shoulder, "But it was our father's idea. Everyone agreed to it."

Jeanne sighed, seeing that she wasn't going to win this battle, "As long as others are enjoying themself, I suppose there is no harm."

Her brother reached for a mug, handing it to her, "That's the spirit!"

Sniffing the contents of the mug, her brother laughed harder, "Oh Jeanne, have ye little faith in your brother! It's water. Relax."

Jeane nodded with a bemused smile, taking a sip. It was the most enjoyable sip of water that the blonde girl had experienced. "Careful there; you might drink up that whole well." Pierre teased with a cheeky grin.

Looking down at the mug, he was indeed correct. She had chugged that water down quickly. "Guess you were really thirsty." Pierre shrugged as he dunked the cup back into the well, offering it to his sister.

"There is my LIONESS OF FRANCE!"

An unmistakable deep voice for their father interrupted the festivities as everyone gathered around. Two round muscle-bound arms grasped Jeanne by the waist and hoisted her up in the air, seating the young cub on the shoulders of a strong man with mud-colored hair that was starting to frost. "Pappa!" Jeanne exclaimed with a smile, "Please…" She murmured meekly.

"It troubles me!" Jeanne's father exclaimed to the townspeople. From the height of this hairy mountain top, she could see her friends, Henri, Germaine, and little Catherine watching beside her momma. "That my sons and I were away during a difficult trial!"

The music started to die down. Even Father Guillimore joined in the festivities, stepping out of his sanctuary, watching over his flock. "Yet, it pleases me more that Jeanne turned the vile traitorous dogs from our village by standing her ground! If France had a thousand Jeannes, We'd be invading England!" His voice boomed, rallying the townspeople, applauding, cheering, and praising the shepherdess. "Tonight is your night, Jeanne. Let this victory be known by Domremy! Let the Angels and Saints proclaim it to our Lord!"

If only he knew how true his statement was. Yet it greatly troubled her that she had to keep it a secret. It bothered her that she had to keep it from her family, whom she deeply trusted with not a single reservation. How desperately she wanted to blurt out, "SAINT MICHAEL DID EVERYTHING! NOT I!" The heart of the young girl would be free!

"Here you go, honey!" Her father hoisted up a wooden plate. Still on his shoulders, she took it and looked down. Amethyst eyes went wide as saucers on the precious gift before her. A treasure for sure.

"Pappa…"

"Your mother made it." He smiled warmly.

He eased her back down as the people waited with bated breath. Jeanne gestured for Catherine and Pierre to come over. "My dear siblings, please! Share this with me!"

Germaine rushed over with Pierre looming over the two girls on the other side.

"Father? Mother?" Pierre looked at his parents questioningly. The two Arcs shared a knowing smile as if communicating through thought.

"We made it for Jeanne." Her mother laughed, "It's up to her share as she pleases."

While offering to share with her siblings, she couldn't help but stick her spoon in the golden puffy cloud with a red dusting of cinnamon sprinkled on top. How she loved her mother's custard tarts. Seeing there were two others, Jeanne called out, "Henri! Germaine!"

The two children looked up at Jeanne's mother, who gently pushed them forward. "It's quite alright go ahead."

The two childhood friends rushed, Henri nearly tripping over himself.

"My friends, please share with us."

Thus the Arc siblings and two siblings shared in the delectable custard pies, much to the cheers of their people.

Father Guillimore approached with small barrels.

"My dear friends and family! Just as the children share their treasure, so do I! I must apologize if it is light on the honey. The bees have yet to stir from their winter slumber."

Placing the casks on one of the tables, the priest raised his hands, "Now remember fair people, drink modestly!" He reached for a mug and removed the cork. A golden brown foamy liquid poured out, filling the mug. The first on being offered to Jacque

"Ah, thank you, Father." The town guardian bowed his head. Taking a sip from the foamy drink. The hard chiseled face of a man instantly faded to that of a man rediscovering his youth. "Father! I entreat you! Do not alter what you have made. It already tastes like honeydew. You would spoil us dearly if you added more honey!"

Thus the night progressed with much merriment. Bellies were filled with rich meats and delightful fruits, and potent drinks. With such festive food, the people rose up in song and dance, praising God, Jeanne, and the Arc family.

It got a bit much for the after the tenth toast to the girl. Sitting at the head bench with her family, she leaned over to Isabelle, her mother, "Dear Momma, I am fatigued. May I retire for the night?"

Her mother looked down with a bit of surprise but nodded, understanding that the girls were usually not up this late, "Please take your sister too. She could use some rest as well."

Looking on the other side of her mother, she could see young Catherine passed out on her mother's lap. "Sure, momma."

She started to get up, "And Jeanne."

Jeanne looked up with inquisitive violet eyes. Her mother pulled away her blonde bangs and planted a kiss, "I'm so proud of you."

The smile on the girl's face only grew from the praise as she stood up and tapped Catherine, who stirred slightly. "Oh, sweet Catherine… time to get up…"

"I want to stay in bed!" The girl protested with tightly shut eyes, earning a giggle from mom and sister.

"That's where I'm taking you…." Jeanne cooed with a slight shake of the shoulder. Tired hazel eyes fluttered awake, looking around and scanning her surroundings. The girl sat up slowly, "Oh…. momma… I'm sorry…" The girl yawned.

"Good morning to you, Catherine." Jeanne greeted her sister with a smile.

"Morning…?" The child looked up, pointing up at the sky, "It's still night."

The shepherdess giggled before offering the little girl her hand, "It's time to retire for the night. We still have Mass in the morning."

Catherine roared a mighty yawn and stretched out her hands before taking Jeanne's. "Goodnight." Her mother waved them off to bed.


Jacque looked over with a sullen face seeing his daughters depart from the celebration. Then again, they were children and needed their rest. "My dear friend, what troubles you on this evening of celebration?"

Looking down, it was Father Guillimore, hands clasped underneath his habit. A man who was both a scholar and contemplative, slow but thoughtful in word and deed. Even though he was the oldest in Domremy, he had a certain, near childlike glow that only God reserved for his most faithful of servants.

"Father…" Jacque's family trailed off.

"Yes, I am here." Father front laughed, "Usually, I am the contemplative one in our village."

The doyen's brow furrowed, "I had a troubling… dream... the past couple of nights… and I can't make sense of it."

The priest cocked his head, raising his eyebrow with a certain seriousness in his voice. Dreams were never a joking manner. "What kind of dream…?"

"My family… will go through great tribulations…." Jacque's voice trailed off. "My dear Jeanne will leave us soon, and I cannot ascertain why… I can't tell if this is some kind of warning to… stop her."

The priest nodded as he watched the girls enter their village home, "It could be that very much so, but after what I've seen today, Jeanne has a high calling. It could be the Lord telling you to prepare yourself for that day."

Jacque's frown only grew, "That's what I'm desperately afraid of…" The man confessed, "I… I want to try and stop it… If she goes… it will end badly for her…"

Father looked up to the sky, pondering the mysteries of the stars, "Indeed… The hardest struggle for any parent would be protecting your child and fulfilling God's will."


Jeanne walked down the street with young Catherine in her hand, "Did you enjoy the party?" she asked her little sister.

The young girl nodded, her pigtails bobbing up and down erratically. "I wish I didn't eat the full custard tart," Catherine confessed, rubbing her stomach. "It was rather too sweet for me."

Jeanne raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Too sweet for Catherine? The destroyer of candied fruit and sugar almonds…? My, you must have met your match."

"Did not…!" Catherine protested, stomping her feet to the laugher of Jeanne.

Entering the house and closing the door behind them, Jeanne ushered Catherine upstairs. Breathing a sigh of relief that the night's revelries were over. She didn't understand how Pierre was still out with his friends.

Moving over to the washbasin, she soaked a towel and wrung it thoroughly. Climbing the stairs, she had found Catherine already in bed, blanket over her. Peeling the blanket away slightly, she dabbed away at some of the grime, "Jeanne!" She protested with a whine.

"Oh hush now, Catherine…" She hummed softly, "It will be just a minute."

The girl let out a sigh as Jeanne wiped away some of the grime, much to the frustration of her little sister. She debated with herself on telling her sister what her guardian saint said. It was a tough decision, not sure on what or how to go about approaching the subject.

"Hey, Jeanne…"

"Mhmm?" She paused for a moment.

"Did you speak to Catherine again?"

Thank you, Lord. She hummed in her heart. It was clear that He wanted to tell her. "Yes, she visited me when I awoke."

The girl immediately sat up, clutching her pillow in excitement. "REALLY?" Her second nearly shot up in the excitement of a second wind.

"Yes, yes…" Jeanne laughed, "Calm yourself, and I shall tell you what she told me."

Much to the frustration and mixed excitement of her sister, she did as she was bid. She laid back down as Jeanne tucked her in, kneeling beside her bed. "I asked her to visit you…" She started debating how to tell her.

"Ohhh…!?" She started to squirm underneath her covers with eyes filled with wonder and excitement.

It almost hurt Jeanne to tell her the bad news… "She said… she could not visit you now… but she will be the one escorting you to heaven. She also said… that she has been watching over you and offering your prayers to the Lord, which makes Him very happy as long as you keep being a good girl."

She expected her sister to pout, cry, or protest in some kind of fashion. Yet it was not so. If anything, it seemed to pacify the young girl. "I'm happy that my saint watches over you. It's like I'm there where I'm not. I'm glad she watches over both of us."

"Me too." Jeanne smiled sweetly as she tucked in her sister. Moving beside her own bed, she unlaced her leather shoes and placed them under her bed. Taking off her girdle and removing her violet over-gown and putting it away, Jeanne was ready to properly turn in for the night. Laying down and pulling her blanket up, she could feel exhaustion overcome her.

What a day it had been. Many revelations, celestial visits from the hosts of heaven, and the mission she was supposedly given. The raid on her village, her defiant stand, and a grand celebration. It was a great deal for anyone, let alone a child.

Her eyes started to close, her vision dimming, as she could make out a golden light standing off in the distance, with brilliant white wings and golden armor. He sat on a stool across from her bed. His warm smile made her feel safe. "Rest now Jeanne…" He said.

She wasn't going to argue with that. "Thank you, St. Michael. Thank you, Lord."


The night had come and gone. Morning dawn awoke Jeanne, Catherine, and Pierre. The three siblings went about their morning chores once waking up and put on their Sunday clothes. Hearing Mass, Jeanne made a fervent communion, asking for blessings on her village and kingdom.

While on her knees, she looked up to see that sun illuminating the stained glass window of the Lord's last supper, which filled her with much wonder and delight. The beautiful colors of reds, whites, and blues seemed to dance before the girl.

When the Sacrifice of the Mass was cleaned, and everyone stood up. It was Pierre who tapped her on the shoulder, gesturing for Jeanne to stand up, much to the giggles of her sister. Taking his hand, she stood up as Father Guillimore blessed them with the sign of the cross.

The priest turned to face his congregation, blessing them, "Go forth and preach to all peoples, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."

"Amen!" Everyone proclaimed as the Priest processed out, followed by the rest of his flock. They had returned home to sit around the table to share a meal of bread, eggs, and cheese. "Pierre and Jeanne, would you mind going to the stream? We could use some fish for tonight's supper."

"I want to go fishing!" Catherine protested.

The mother of the household patted the child on the head, "I know, dear, but I need help in the garden. Could you please help me?"

She crossed her arms, still upset, but nodded reluctantly, "I suppose."

"Don't be upset." Jeanne reached out across the table, taking her sister's hand in her own. "We will have all day once we come back."

That seemed to lift the girl spirits back up. The young girl seemed very chirpy again and helped to clean up the table.

Pierre and her sister grabbed their fishing net hanging up in the barn and made their way back to the grazing fields that Jeanne was the day before. It seemed her prayers were answered. The herd was indeed there.

"Wow… I thought they would have been killed off…." Pierre rubbed his chin in thought, "I suppose we're lucky."

"Not lucky. The Lord provides…" Jeanne corrected him with a light swipe on his arm. "You should know that."

"I swear…"

Jeanne crossed her arms, expressing her frustration with an impatient tapping of her foot.

"Jeanne… lighten up. You're too pious…" He teased.

"Am not!" Jeanne countered as she grabbed the net out of her brother's hand, "I'm just doing as I'm told." It was a shame that Pierre didn't understand the full extent of that statement.

She led the way as her lambs looked up, baaing in a greeting to their shepherdess. "Hurry, Pierre!" She waved him over as she was already in the stream's banks.

The boy ran over, sliding down the embankment as Jeanne leaped from rock to rock, careful not to fall back in.

Upon reaching the other side, she tossed the end of the net to Pierre on the other side of the creek. Both kneeling, they rearranged the shore's rocks to anchor down the net. "You want to go in, or should I?" Pierre asked.

Without hesitating, Jeanne entered the creek, with several rocks. The water was brisk and cold, coming up to her knees. "I guess that answers that…" Pierre laughed, scratching the back of his head. Kneeling down, anchored the bottom of the end to the riverbed. Taking her time, she enjoyed being in the water. She secretly delighted in playing in the water, despite how muddy she could get.

Climbing out of the stream bed, she sat beside her brother, "So brother, how is your sweetheart, Ella?" She poked him in the side with a knowing grin. "I hope you are virtuous in your... outings."

"My dear sister, I know not what you are implying." Pierre's cheeks were flushed with crimson red as if he were wounded, "and of course I'm virtuous! A knight must always be virtuous to his lady!"

Jeanne laughed at her brother's manly bravado, trying to act like a gallant warrior, despite him being innocent as a lamb. Her laughter slowly died down as she turned to face her brother, "I look forward to meeting her…" She said with a severe look in her eye.

"U-u-uh… why….?" He stammered nervously, looking everywhere but at the fierce gaze of her sister.

"To determine if she is a virtuous woman. I will not have my brother sullied by a woman of ill repute." She stated in a tone that caused Pierre to tremble in fear.

"You're worse than Mother and Father…."

Jeanne cracked up laughing, slapping her knee. "Be at ease, Pierre! No need to be scared!"

Her brother wiped the sweat from his head, "Oh… Jeanne… what a delightful jest."

Jeanne laughing instantly faded; her violet eyes met Pierre's hazel. "Who said I was jesting." She stated more than asked.

"And what about you little miss saint?!" Pierre changed tactics, "Do you have a gallant knight after your heart?"

The offensive failed. It failed miserably, "No." She said with the utmost confidence, "I am for the Lord."

"Give it some time." He nudged her with his shoulder, "God works in mysterious ways."

"Yeah.. yeah.." Her voice trailed off. How true he was right as she watched for any of the fish that were supposed to swim upstream. There was a huge one getting close.

"So the raid… that must have been a difficult time." Pierre changed the subject.

Then it made sense. Pierre must have asked momma if he could talk to her privately. That was always Pierre, sly and clever. Always playing his hand close to his chest.

Jeanne let down her guard, "It… it was…" She admitted with a certain weariness.

Her brother hummed, draping his hand around her sister, pulling her into a hug. "What happened?"

Not resisting her brother's embrace, she drew closer, "Promise me you won't tell anyone." She asked in a subdued tone.

"Never," Pierre swore.

"Well… I heard a voice… Saint Michael… tell me what to do. When he told me to hold still… I did."

"Hmmm…" Pierre thought out loud, "So he was guiding you?"

She nodded, "Indeed… I think it saved my life. They shot bolts at me. If I was hit…" Her voice trailed off.

"I see…"

She shuddered at the thought, causing her brother to hold her tighter, "I didn't want to die like that…"

"And you didn't." He paused for a thoughtful moment, "God was watching over you."

"They circled around me, how easily one could have struck me out. Their leader swung their sword at me….If St. Michael didn't intervene… I… I…" Her eyes started to water.

Pierre held Jeanne tightly as she started to cry in his shoulder, "-s-s-should be d-d-dead…" She choked out.

"Shhh… shh…." He tried to soothe his sister's distraught spirit. "You're here… you're alive…. Everything is alright…."

For a moment, Jeanne just let all that pent-up anxiety and stress come crashing out with sobs as her brother ran his hand through her hair. "It's alright…" He continued to say.

How could it be alright…? None of this was okay. None of this should be happening. She was just a thirteen-year-old girl. Why should she have to go through this? Why did God pick her? She was a nobody!

She started to slow down, feeling that turmoil sea of her heart started to calm, "I…"

"It's alright, Jeanne…"

"I don't want to leave Domremy… I'll miss all of you…" She murmured to herself, hoping that her older brother wouldn't hear.

"Leave? Don't be silly. You're not going anywhere."

Well, so much for him, not hearing… Yet his reply didn't help.

"Look." Pierre peeled away slightly, holding her by the shoulders, "Where ever you go, I shall go. To the ends of the world, just for my little sister."

Jeanne looked up, wiping away the tears from her eyes. He meant it. He truly meant it; It was the balm that her troubled heart needed. To know that God and her family were on her side, no matter what may come.

"Jeanne look…" Pierre gestured to the fishing net.

Looking down, the net was filled to the brim with fish. Yet, they weren't trying to escape. They were calm as lambs… "Thank you, Lord." She whispered to herself.


"Of proud warriors, Jeanne won the souls.

The divine splendor of this angel in Heaven

Her Pure Look, Her words of Fire

Were able to make bold brows give way" St. Therese of Lisieux's Canticle for the Beatification of Saint Joan

Hello dear readers!

I got a slice of life chapter, figured we needed to dive into some of French life back during the early 1400s. I'm not going to lie, I really enjoyed writing this out and how she interacted with her family. We don't have much detail on the childhood life of Saint Joan, besides her being a faithful Catholic, a good and pious girl who happily did her chores etc. So I wanted to look into some of this.

I wanted to explore this idea that Jeanne is dealing with God's mission and her desire to stay in her home village and stay with her family. On several accounts, in both her condemnation trial, she said, she would have liked to stay in Domremy (or return to it after her work was done) but she felt she had to complete the duty God had given her. And well.. I wanted to look at that through the eyes of a young girl.

Also, Germaine comes from Saint Therese's play, but I think this character might be based on Hauviette, just some personal guessing on my part.

Next chapter we'll have a time skip and things will start to pick up a bit

Let me know what you think, leave a fav/follow/review. I'd love to hear what you guys think so far! Means the world.

Reviews:

Snake: Ello governa! I have, and I forgot to respond to this, but this will not incorporate Fate/GO, this is a straight-up narrative of her life. Thank you! I hope you continue to like it!

Ms. Atomic: Top of the night to ya, St. Jeanne squad *highfive* It's been really fun doing research on Saint Jeanne. I want to honor her life with this while not being a "history" of her life. Hope ya like the following chapters :D

As always, my dear readers, I am and will continue to be your most humble and faithful of servants.

Sauron