Chapter 16

The Simple, The Elaborate, The Powerful

The wind swept across far green fields. The shivering rustle of overhead leaves swaying upon tree branches filled one's ears. The shadow of the branches and those fluttering extensions created an artistic tapestry formed by nature's own bountiful beauty. The great trunk of the tree lay at their back, as the body of one being sat against it. Their eyes shut, their head laid equally back along the tree, with their right leg angled knee up and their left flat out extended before them. He took an intake of breath through his nostrils and felt his shoulders relax as once more the calming presence of the Force pulsated through the field, along the tree, into his body, worn and weary but healing, much as lands near and far in these new days.

"Oh, hello there!" A voice called. Laden in the familiar 'simple' accent of these fair free little folk. Opening his eyes, Anakin plastered a sincere calm smile onto his face and bowed his head in greeting as an unfamiliar Hobbit stood but a few paces away. His thumbs wrapped into the straps of his overalls, and a kindly enough but quizzical look in his soft eyes. Fair skinned, the Hobbit was of the elder days of the middle half of one's life, as Anakin could best guess. His large unruly feet were freed of any shoes and stepped upon the cooled grass under the large so-called 'Party Tree.'

"Hello." Anakin bowed his head.

"Not too often we here get any visitors from any of the tall folk!" The Hobbit intoned. "You're not here to cause any trouble, are you?" Anakin smiled, understanding inherently the imbued nature of the Hobbits to be careful of outsiders. Some were extreme, such as Ted Sandyman, of course, but most just wanted their quiet homes left unmarred and without the wandering eyes of those who may seek to bring harm.

"No, no trouble, sir. I am here as a guest of several of your people. Myself, my wife and children, along with a friend or two."

"So, that…creature, is with you?" The Hobbit pointed lazily towards Anakin's right. He glanced as he saw Obi-Wan, Padmé, along with Sam, Frodo, Merry and Pippin enjoying the sun. Conversing with one another, the twins held about, Luke in Obi-Wan's right arm crook as the elder Jedi chortled at the baby's inquisitive soft wide eyes. Padmé, of course, held little Leia as both Merry and Pippin wagged their fingers as Padmé leaned down. The little girl sputtering at their chuckling while Sam smoked from a pipe and Frodo laughed at something he was discussing with Obi-Wan.

Of course, what the Hobbit pointed towards was dear FourDee. The droid zoomed and zipped around. Circling around the group and the Party tree, especially as birds neared. Taking scans, and informing Padmé or the others of the UV rays and adequate protections. Getting into one-way spats with Merry and Pippin as the droid failed to comprehend they were being sarcastic or mocking him.

"Certainly a strange creature if ever I've seen one." The Hobbit hummed.

"He is. And yes, he's with me. Don't worry, he'll be no trouble."

"He speaks?"

"Sure does." Anakin nodded.

"What…what is it…he, exactly?"

"Uh…well…" Anakin chuckled and adjusted himself on the ground. "Where I come from he and his kind are called droids."

"A droid?" The Hobbit tested the sound of the word. "Are there lots of droids? Never heard of one myself."

"They're…plentiful. They come in all shapes and sizes. Some even look like me, some as tall as you, sir."

"Now that is odd."

"Bad?" Anakin wondered with genuine, and bluntly forward, curiosity. The Hobbit's eyes narrowed. A thoughtful expression, something akin to a scowl crossed his brow. Anakin appreciated in that moment of silence the discernible sight of earnest thought being put to the question. The years of age showing on the Hobbit. The long days of flesh grazed by and colored by the local sun. Yet, there was no inherent weariness born too often by those who wore on and lingered about the world and galaxy in this Hobbit, and few among them else indeed. The days, doubtless, blurred, but they were not unwelcome. The coming of the day next after the one today was a blessing. One that, perhaps, went unseen, unfelt, and unknown, but appreciated with such earnesty as to be enviable. In many ways Anakin envied these simple folk. Had since he had learned of them, their culture and ways. Though, as Merry, Pippin, Sam and Frodo showed, there was much more to them than the simplicity of their home would lead anyone to see on the surface. Good folk, fine and free, simple and honest…most of the time.

"No." The Hobbit answered at last. "Wouldn't say bad at all. Just different." He concluded with that familiar earnestness Anakin appreciated. In kind, the Jedi smiled and nodded his head absently. The Hobbit humming to himself as though his own thoughts were made as revelation to his own person. The distant sound of other Hobbits calling out to the unknown fellow who spoke to him. The rosy cheeks of passerby, and the seeming growing acceptance of a few 'big folk' cavorting with the oddities that were Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Sam.

"Best be going." The friendly unknown fellow offered. A tip of a nonexistent hat following. Anakin raised his hand in gentle goodbye. A simple, and perhaps oddly random interaction that at once; along with the flowing breeze on a fine day in a place such as the Shire, it made Anakin feel all the more homely in a place not his home. The shining sun glinted about upon green fields, where patches bloomed golden yellow and tall shrubs swayed by the water's edge of lakes and the flowing river.

"Anakin!" His name was called as the Hobbit retreated. Anakin turned to see Padmé waving him over as Merry and Pippin tussled in a good, obvious manner with one another over something or the other. Obi-Wan shaking his head in chide. Frodo chuckled softly as Sam also chided the two fellow Hobbits.

"I'm coming." Anakin called. Rising and heading over to partake in whatever little familial festivities of food and drink gathered in an impromptu picnic of sorts.

Today life was good.

For a night and early morning Taruk had learned what he could of the peoples, needs and workings of the people here in Rhûn. A strange place, but certainly only so to himself. This whole world was strange. That said he and Kaludir had taken the time together to reiterate the realities of the political situation here in the east among nobles, peoples and their lands. The greater number were the Achisen people, those most similar in appearance to the people of Kuat. Here in the Capitol and this region of Rhûn they reigned. Among their stock was the 'Emperor' Takughíl.

To the north were the Mershpian people. From which the passed Emperor, Úndrathill, heralded and the great monster in the west Borgus came from among them. To the south the Khandish people roamed deserts, plains and far steppes upon horseback. From them came Ganghûthil who acted as Grand Protector over his little half-brother upon the throne. In reality he wielded power, and he used the fragile unity of his people and that of Takughíl to wage violent war upon their brother Borgus.

All restated to Taruk and imprinted to his memory as the meeting neared. Taruk, or in this case, Davok Nell, straightened his clothes. Pulling at the collar around his neck he loosed a sigh from his nostrils as he along with a well dressed Kaludir awaited their summons. The two men stood in a reception hall. Itself of red pillars lined in ornate statue serpents and beasts enfolding and wrapping around them. The floor lined in great rugs with seals and writing of unknown meaning. The ceiling raised in arches of ornate spirals and before the great doorway there loomed overhead the visage of a dragon, so it would seem.

Two sets of three guards waited in formation before the doorway. They wore the garb of burgundy-red cloth and that familiar golden armor. Their spears in hands ready and waiting to strike should the need call. Their eyes, deep hazel or dark, seen where their mouths and noses remain covered by cloth. Indeed, Kaludir too remained covered about his mouth. A strange allowance he was given in the halls of the Eternal Palace that Taruk suspected came from years of intrigue and movements on behalf of Gondor before, and certainly the noble House of Pelargir always.

About the room were several servants in silk robes that shone yellow and green depending, as Taruk learned, upon their rank and year of service to the royal House and the occupants within the Eternal Palace. Their expressions were flat, and they remained silently watching and waiting, hands enfolded upon one another crossed at their wastes within the folds of their robes unseen. Whilst around the room grumbled and softly whispered several dozen or so petty lords, some members of the various peoples in what seemed to be military attire of varying styles and rank, among them too peasants who must have come seeking redress for grievances.

"Are you ready, my Lord Nell?" Kaludir wondered in Basic...or Westron.

"As ready as one can be." Taruk nodded. A smile came across his face as he idly patted his satchel and unseen, and totally unsuspecting blaster pistol within. "This will not be the first time I have had to deal with nobles and royals. Across many...nations I have managed my share. Accommodating, and not so much."

"Then you are well prepared indeed. Though a few final notes."

"Please." Taruk gave freedom as Kaludir eyed a passing servant carrying a cup within his hands towards one of the seeming guests.

"The Grand Protector wields most of the political power here. His Wainriders and horsemen are integral to Takughíl maintaining his position. Without them, likely the rest of the legions scattered across Rhûn could...likely would concede to Borgus and his claims. However, there is one other axis. Takughíl is but a boy, nearing thirteen by our count. His mother, on the other hand, is one of former Emperor Úndrathill's favored wives. Dowager Tsulshin. She will be present, doubtless, but be wary. She may hold little power for the moment, but she is not to be underestimated. Ganghûthil cannot be rid of her so easily."

"Though…" Taruk nodded as he listened. "This does create another avenue…"

"As you see best." Kaludir nodded once. "Be wary is all I warn."

"I will. You have my thanks." Kaludir did not reply. Merely bowing his head as Taruk took in the final bit of helpful knowledge he may need for the meeting. Fortuitous, though close, as such knowledge was, as the doorway ahead opened. Two heaving slabs like stone gates made of fine metal and woodcraft peeled away. Revealing beyond a throne room.

A man came out. His feet bare, and sliding along the floor more than rising and falling. His head was bald, and he seemed to be one of the monks Taruk had seen outside the palace in the day past. The unknown man bowed deep. His torso turning to a straightened point where the top of his head met the direct line of sight for Taruk and Kaludir. He wore a bristling purple silk woven robe ebony limned along its edges, and a mark like a tattoo of sorts was stapled onto his brow now fallen in the shape of a five-point star.

"Calling forth Lord Davok Nell, and his representative Kaludir of the West!" The man pronounced loudly. Reminding Taruk of the Vice Chair within the Galactic Senate. The man rose to a full stand and with creased eyes to near the point of invisibility looked squarely upon the men he called.

"Step forth!" He commanded, but in a gentle manner. Taruk had been given word of protocol. He was to step forward once here, and he along with Kaludir did so. Both bowed only slightly.

"One from among the elite caste of eunuchs." Kaludir whispered low enough to be unheard by all save Taruk. In kind Taruk nodded and said nothing. The man in question greeted with a step forward, and a slight bow in response.

"Davok Nell, and Kaludir. I welcome both to the Court of his Most High Eminence: Heir of the Great One Úndrathill, Master of the Eastern Sky and the Rising Day Star, Protector of the Children of Rhûn, Great Khul, and Emperor from Northern Mountain Colds and Southern Sea Shores, Takughíl of the House of Silong-Rathíll." Taruk took the bloated titles in, hardly the first long list of self-given nobility and claims he had heard. Not even the longest, but he did inwardly restrain a chuckle at the foolishness of such steep claims.

"Hail."

"Hail." Kaludir and Taruk offered respectively. The eunuch bowed again, and on a sweep of his bare feet turned and once more slid his feet upon the rugged floor. A silent bid the two others follow after him. Kaludir took the first and seemingly familiar step while Taruk, as Davok Nell, followed.

The twin set of guards snapped to attention at their passing. The doorway remained open. Banners of silken cloth in brilliant blood red swept in hung arches just passed the door. Light streamed within from well crafted glass windows that lined the roof edges atop a stone brim where channeled a stream of water that circulated the rectangular room. Falling away from an unseen outside feeding stream into a fountain at the heart of the room before the throne. An intricate system for a society as backward as Taruk felt them to be. All to be, upon Arda.

The fountain was, as many sculptures and statues of this palace, in the form of a serpent figure. Strands like tendrils of hair or even feathers were splattered across a reptilian body that had been carved with care and precision. Eyes were laden with gems like rubies and stared daunting, and judgmental upon those who entered the throne room. Whilst lining the far edges of the large room at Taruk's left and right were more guards. Six spread apart on either side. Their backs against the wall, they were composed of the three main people groups. Two of the Achisen in their wicker-like simple armor, ornate and well presented in this hall. Two from the Mershpian in their fine cloth and armor, with the final two on either side were of...shabbier appearance. They wore the cloth and armor of the Khandi folk. Their faces tinted a hue of darker cream from the sun's rays, their faces sporting strands of brooding dark hairs about their mouths, and their armor, or cloth covers showing symbols Taruk had seen of the plain familiarized folks. Horses rearing back while atop it was the blackened visage of a man wielding a bow.

More important, however, as Taruk, Kaludir and their guide entered the room were the people not of the military. The far end of the room showed a great throne, indeed it must be the vaunted Golden Throne spoken of. Indeed it was a thing made of plated gold. Gaudy and unsubtle as it was imposing. Standing tall as a pillar reaching towards the skies it reached the roof merging into it, seemingly so. Its armrests sleek and shimmering in cleanliness. Whilst its seat was covered in cushions, and upon it, indeed, sat a boy of the early teenage years by human count.

The boy's expression was pensive, and his thinned eyes traced Taruk. Though Taruk could see him swallow with a lack of sureness found in youth when given call to commit important tasks, even by their own standards. The boy...the Emperor Takughíl was adorned in an orange robe like the embers of fire in a camp. Dotted across it white patterns of swirling gems that wrapped about the robe from the bottom hem to over his shoulders. Wrapped around him a golden sash that kept the robe clung to his form. Slung at the boy's left was a stone slab. Ingrained upon it were symbols outside of Taruk's view, but he imagined from experience and commonality it was a seal of the Emperor.

The three neared. Pausing in unison as the eunuch bowed, which Taruk and Kaludir did in kind. Then they stepped four paces. Stopping, and bowing deeper, then five steps and another, deeper bow. Straining Taruk's back as his portly frame hindered him slightly to his own silent agitation. All the same, Taruk took in the others in the room beyond the boy-Emperor and fought-over puppet.

Around the throne were a litany of likely Lords and servants. Eunuchs stood at attention, their hands folded in their robes, like that of the man leading Taruk and Kaludir. Ladies in waiting were upon the peripheries of the throne, to its back and off to the sides. Among them Lords and various men-at-arms here to stand as seconds or as representatives of far off regions within the Rhûnnic borders.

There upon either periphery, just ahead of the throne and before what seemed to be four great golden steps adorned in a crimson carpet, stood two figures. Upon the right, or left from Taruk's sight, was a woman. She was small, slender, and nearly frail. Yet she was a beauty of...curious youth. Blackened hair was tied back upon her head. It fell down past her shoulders but remained swept away revealing her cream-colored flesh. Her eyes were small but sported brown intrigue as a smile was sported expertly along her lithe being. Her shoulders were bare, and her dress was tightened about her torso by a clasp of some leather make. The robes of a sea-colored blue patterned with twin white snakes entwined in one another slid around her body, while tassels hung from the middle of her forearms to the floor.

Then, importantly, upon the left of the throne, Taruk's right, stood a man. His broad form stood firm, and upon his shoulders down his back was the pelt of a slain beast of whitened-gray. Underneath was a black robe that was covered by a silver plate adorned upon it a Khandi symbol of the Great Sky made in the shape of three sloping lines. A sword at his belt, a curious and bold sight compared to all others near the throne. While he sported straps of cloth that ran down his legs from his belt in strips for no easily discernible reason to Taruk, beyond mere fashion or traditional fashion sense. It was not his place to judge. Regardless, the man was not unseemly. He bore a stern expression masked in a wholly unfelt smile. His eyes of squinted black pits while a bolder and well maintained strip of black hair enfolded his mouth and chin. Sun scars, blemishes of long hours in the uncovered heat showed along his brow and cheeks, he too of a darker color, but by a few shades than the Emperor. Yet in both faces relation could not be denied. This was Ganghûthil, beyond shadow of any doubt, while opposite him stood the Emperor's mother, Tsulshin.

The eunuch stepped forth and bowed a final time. Taruk and Kaludir both fell at their midsections and were forced to remain as such until the guide ended his speech as began. To their benefit they spoke in continued Westron, through accented with quaint little lisps.

"Presenting to his Most High Royal Eminence, Lord Davok Nell, and his Guide. Known to us, Kaludir of the Western Lands." The guide offered. Snaking his arms in at his chest and then out as he gave a final bow. Remaining such before twisting to his right and scampering backwards out of the way of the other two. Sliding hands into the folds of his robes and rising to a full stand at the ready, as needed if needed to speak on their behalf or the Emperor's. All the same, Taruk and Kaludir both hailed and finally rose with stiffened muscles, joints and bones to their heights.

Silence passed throughout the room for a long belaboring moment. Taruk did not shift even as every bit of him wanted to. He remained firm as could be while Kaludir remained eyes affixed upon a point between the throne and Ganghûthil. Giving no mind seemingly to anyone in the room. The boy-Emperor shifted in his seat, however. Discomfort clear in him as his eyes stabbed at once towards mother, and half-brother. Before he spoke with the voice of a young boy scratching at the doors of puberty.

"We welcome you before us." His voice achieved some measure of decorum. His accent less thick, more clearly well educated and trained, and his use of the royal 'we' evident.

"This is our most sacred place. A throne for the meeting of...of anyone who may seek the wisdom, or give proper tribute to the greatest among all the lords of Men. We accept the coming of this newcomer, Lord Davok Nell. Kaludir is known to us." Takughíl offered with clear trepidation that went ignored by Taruk. He glanced right at Kaludir and the men gave the barest of nods. Taruk was now free to respond.

"Hail again, your Most Honored Eminence, Emperor Takughíl! It is a great honor indeed I have been given audience."

"An honor indeed, Lord Nell." There it was. His mother spoke for him. The Dowager Lady, Tsulshin's voice was sweet and fluttering. Every syllable seemed to carry a coy flattery note, and she was in a way sensual as she was clearly commanding.

"Rare is it that this throne should welcome a guest wholly unknown. But for the good word sent from the southern shores of far off Umbar and the Lady Amdirniel who is known to us. As is Lord Kaludir." In kind the man bowed while Taruk nodded. Adding a low chuckle for good measure.

"I wish to offer again my clearest of gratitude to this throne, the Emperor, and all among the people and lands of Rhûn. Indeed it is upon short notice this meeting has been made, but I believe there is good business to be had between the peoples I represent, and that of Rhûn. Especially while both our lands find themselves in strange states." Taruk coyly offered. Mentioning the war in so bold a fashion would be unseemly. Though, he still saw some among the leaching lords and ladies discerning looks and hushed whispers of the merest of scandals. Indeed, the young Emperor leaned back and seemed haughty at the insinuation of weakness. Insinuated it had been at that.

"There is no 'strangeness' to be found in our lands, Lord Nell. Do well to understand this!" The boy sneered, even as Lady Tsulshin smirked knowingly. Her small frame heaving a silent single laugh as she eyed Taruk with a terrible curiosity. She was...more dangerous Taruk could guess than Kaludir led him to believe. Though...another voice spoke.

"My Lord Emperor, our guest merely spoke of what manner of knowledge one from so far is bound to know. Or rather, not know." Ganghûthil spoke. His voice of refined gravel and accented with that throatiness heard among the others of Khand that Taruk had met with. Indeed...as Taruk eyed the lords and ladies, among them he caught glimpse of Halugu stood to the rear, but behind Ganghûthil's flank about the Golden Throne.

Boldly the man stepped forward and raised his arms out. As though a sign of welcome, but Taruk felt no warmth as Ganghûthil eyed him just as critically as the Dowager Lady.

"Welcome to the Great Hall of the Golden Throne, Lord Nell. Word has indeed reached as far as the great city of Undaqoram of your desire to speak with the esteemed heir of the Great and Golden Úndrathill! There," Ganghûthil turned sweeping his left arm out, fingers pointed straight and bowing his head. Atop it wilder blackened long hair that was swept back, allowing stray locks to sweep across his brow as he showed theatrical obeisance to his half-kin.

"There he sits, Lord Nell. Though," Ganghûthil continued while Takughíl seemed unsure upon his throne. His small frame shifting whilst his mother at the bottom motioned one of her maidens near to whisper unknown words to her.

"Though it is curious as to the point of this meeting, Lord from afar." Ganghûthil intoned near mockery as he stepped nearer. Assuming his position as the one with the true power before the many men and women among the court of Rhûn.

"Ever have the Lords and their vassals in the West sought to impose upon us spies, and thieves posing as aides and strangers of distant, but well meaning lands. They come as barkers in the creeping roll of night. Strange you should impose upon us your presence as though it is the arrival of news unknown, and riches unseen? Do you think we know not what occurs in the seas beyond? The victories of Lord Mahalmion." Ganghûthil neared. His figure imposing and broad as his eyes remained fixed with cruel countenance even as a coy smile remained paradoxically about his expression.

Taruk tilted his head. Absorbing all Ganghûthil said. Assuming, he thought, this horse master and Lord was...in some way insulted this meeting had been imposed upon him. Ganghûthil assumed, that Taruk came to inform him of that which was already known to belabor the point to achieve ends of his own. Taruk had, of course, but he was better at this game than this man knew.

"I would not assume you, nor your rightly enthroned Emperor to be so unawares as all that, my Lord Grand Protector Ganghûthil of Khand." Taruk bowed his head. Imposing the name well known, and stating aloud the spoken realities of the Khandish man's lower stature. Stated if not reality. To which which Ganghûthil paused and subtly sneered. Smiling again as he recognized greater coy in Taruk than first assumed. So Taruk believed, as he in kind smirked and carried on.

"To this great hall I come as emissary of allied powers to the Lady Amdirniel seeking to press the claim of her son. The rightful ruler of the lands called Gondor in the West. The House of Castamir and of greater importance the blood and House of Anárion before runs in the veins of that forgotten family languished in Umbar. Yet, the moves made upon the seas prove that Umbar is not yet routed by the fall of the...Dark Tower." Taruk intoned, and like that...the room shifted. Stutters and whispers silenced before picking up again. Memory of that boogeyman Taruk hardly understood seemed to fill all with unease of varying degrees. Ganghûthil paused and nodded as he circled. Turning his back on Taruk before coming around again in a pace. The Lady Tsulshin narrowed her gaze while young Takughíl was the most lost of all. Taruk continued, however, assuming a stance of seeming disinterest in this fallen power.

"Furthermore," Taruk cleared his throat and raised his own arms out in a sort of welcoming. An opening of himself to the rest as his voice carried in the wild hall.

"There are bold powers at work within the West seeking to unmake the newly self anointed King of Gondor, or rather, the Reunited Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor. Allied with the Kingdom of Rohan, the two peoples are set to dominate a vast swath of land that is of great imposition upon the eastern lands, surely. Especially as unseemly sorts act as great brigands in the west. That is, western lands under the command of the Great Emperor, Takughíl." Again, whispers and unease simmered lowly as Taruk made subtle allusion to Borgus and the threat he posed upon both his half brothers.

"What is it you come to say beyond revelations of the already known, fair traveler?" Ganghûthil pressed. Pausing again near Taruk and daring to lean in and impose his being upon Taruk. To which the man from beyond Arda swallowed openly and conceded himself. Bowing his head in true discomfort at being so boldly tested without even a hand placed upon him.

"No simple words, your Grace, Grand Protector. As I said, I represent powers beyond the West. Come from...quite a distance. We seek alliance. To bring together powers that would impose upon Gondor the necessary pressure in so order to bring about a stable peace. With a King in the White City, Gondor will recuperate and once again become too great to contain. There is no power within that mountain land to restrain them, and the one-time alliance of the people of Rhûn, Umbar, and Harad will be remembered. Actions taken to be quite so unkind to emissaries sent by the 'King' will have doubtless made a sour impression.

"We killed no such emissaries!" All turned, and Ganghûthil reclined back around as Takughíl nearly lurched up from his throne. A look of true ire in the boy's eyes. So much as to confuse and...even impress Taruk.

"This Golden throne should not order dead representatives baring seal of another King, supposed or otherwise! Not by any hand here have emissaries of this Gondor been killed!" Tsulshin nodded. Both, Taruk perceived, in appreciation and pride of her son's boldness, as well as an agreement of what he spoke. Ganghûthil made no such movement, and Taruk then had a question form in his mind. He did not speak it, of course. But, if the emissaries Elessar and Faramir sent had not been ordered killed by Takughíl...then the boy was being pushed more than even Taruk at first understood. Who had done it, however, was of greater importance. If it had been Borgus in the West he would not care. It was partially assumed Borgus had killed them as a message, for his stated brutality to Taruk was well known. However...what if Borgus had not killed such messengers? Taruk tilted to observe quiet Ganghûthil as the man rolled his shoulders and faced him in kind to speak once more. A subtle squint in Taruk's gaze going unnoticed.

"Ah," The Grand Protector began. "So it is that you've come as an omen of doom? Portending the downfall of a people and land, and Empire that has outlasted all attempts to bring us toppling down in centuries gone before? A trivial and fanciful thing. Too often heard as the crowing of the morning birds in their markets nearing their own beheading and hanging." Ganghûthil warned plainly, and Taruk nodded.

"I bring no ill omen of woe. None to you nor the Great Takughíl." Taruk nodded from around Ganghûthil. Making effort to show seeming respect to the being on the throne.

"I instead bring, as I said, an offer of aid in these troubling times. A united front of protection, common protection by the powers and peoples that now stand ready to make...peace with Gondor but for their tyrannical new leadership. I bring offer of offensive means so that one can be certain of their defensive posture. A good offense assures a sturdy defense."

"Fine words." Ganghûthil nodded, again leaning forward in physical power and imposition. "Yet I still find little reason that Rhûn should cast itself in union with Umbar, or Harad? Let alone why we should welcome unknown a man from hitherto unknown places in the deeps and wilds of the vast world? Perhaps, as spoken before, we are being cast as fools? Tricked into the observation of our own weakness." The man smiled knowingly. Taruk sensed Ganghûthil was toying with him. A show of his own preeminence here in the court as to so boldly make a feeble frightened fool of a guest of his brother. Still, there was wisdom in the care and uncertainty to jump into a union with a stranger such as Taruk. Even if given the word of Amathir through Lady Amdirniel at her own expense and honor.

"I do have words...words I was told to speak in order to gain the trust of those who are, rightly so, apprehensive of offers come from the wilds. As you say, my Lord Protector." Taruk intoned lowly. His words going mostly unheard by all. Though Kaludir eyes him quizzically from his right. Even he, Taruk deemed, did not need to hear what he said.

"What whispers are shared?! We shall hear of them!" Takughíl snapped again.

"The Great Emperor speaks rightly, Lord Protector." Tsulshin offered in her airy flutter. "The words of a stranger shall not pass in these halls unknown to the Master of our lands. Not to any who do not have release of their Lord." Her words came nearly as a chuckle. A dare, and Ganghûthil's eyes flashed. Taruk met them, but they were not meant for him. He turned and gravely replied.

"The words of strangers do not control nor command me, your Lordship. I know not what this man speaks, though he has done well to earn ire and wrath from so many in these here halls." Taruk had begun to slightly lose them. He had to wrangle them back in, and quick.

"I assure your Lordship, Master of Rhûn, that my people only wish speak of matters that ensure trust between us! Forgive the impertinence. Though this is not a matter of business, but of recognition of one another. But fair tidings, as friends too long estranged!" Taruk offered, though in truth he had not quite the idea what Lady Sipillona's given words meant. Even if part of it made sense from context clues if nothing else.

"To be so bold, and to lack subtlety in the presence of the Great Lord is shameful, Lord Nell." Ganghûthil now sought to lay on thick his obsequiousness.

"I am but a humble servant to the Mighty, the Lordly and come Emperor, Takughíl! This throne is his, these halls are his, and I am but a simple horseman of the plains, dunes and steppes of Khand! Mistaken are you in observing me to hold any message that our Lord could not hear."

"Then I assure his Lordship and the Great Emperor that you shall not be granted keys to victory against rebellious Borgus, resurgent Gondor, and the coming downfall of Rhûn." Taruk now pressed boldly. His voice even and political as he had ever made it. To the shocked stammers, hushed seethes and fearful grunts of the many gathered.

"You dare!"

"Lord, please." Ganghûthil pleaded. Holding his right hand up towards his half-brother. An unserious, but placating smirk to his face. A shake of his head as he showed a lack of interest in anything else Taruk had to say.

"Let us end this meeting, and quick. To whatever simple provocation or implication this man may share it is of no consequence, and I shall surely share it with you in turn. He holds no power over my lips." Ganghûthil intoned, again grave. His eyes fixed again on Taruk in warning as ire had been raised.

All the same, silence passed for a long heavy moment once more. The child Lord looked to his mother, and she shook her head 'no.' Then, however, he looked to his eunuchs, and they nodded…'yes.' Taruk inwardly nearly grinned. There it was. Ganghûthil...he had the eunuchs on his side. His own servitude was grand and nearly fully transparent but for the understandings of a child looking upon an elder brother. The eunuchs, however, they were the avowed servants of the Emperor, the throne. Their words and their thoughts would obviously lead to no ill will or evil to come upon he who sat there on that great golden seat of power. So one would think.

"V...very well! Though I shall hear of it!" Takughíl relented. Tsulshin closed her eyes, and a flutter passed unseen, as she remained smiling.

"Be quick." Ganghûthil growled as he leaned near enough to be unheard by all else. "I grow wearied of this imposed meeting." Then, Taruk spoke. And simple as repeated came his words.

"From Úndrathill to Ganghûthil, the Eye of the Dark Tower watches. It watches still."

There then upon the face of this grand and feigned simple man Taruk watched a series of emotions wriggle through the muscles under his flesh. His brow creased, and eyes went hollowed of any concentrated direction but 'forward' from his face. Ganghûthil's lips pursed in, then out and he spoke not. The brow rose and his eyes squinted deeper and then widened as he reeled back. Those blackened orbs darted left to right and a swallow appeared to grind down his throat as he finally looked upon Taruk. For his own self, Taruk did not know what thoughts, or likely memories, fluttered over this man's mind to make him act so. Only the knowledge of what had once been the 'dark tower' gave him any sense of what he spoke about. Even still he had little to go on as to what Arsuna Sipillona meant or to where she got such a message. Though, in the end, Taruk Koll supposed he did not care. He was here to play a part in a game orchestrated by Lady Sipillona to bring Arda into the galactic fold, and to hopefully make himself quite rich.

"Well?" Takughíl called out. Ganghûthil looked to Taruk. A genuine thin smile, but one still lacking mirth, passed across his face and he bowed his head. Silent understanding showed.

"We shall discuss matters further of your offer, Lord Nell."

"I am pleased to hear it." Taruk bowed as Ganghûthil remained thoughtful and turned back towards his half-brother upon the throne of Rhûn.

"It pleases me to inform his Most High Eminence that the Lord Davok Nell does indeed bring word from afar that is of great importance to your Person. These are not words spoken so flippantly even in these fair halls. To another time, when we have counsel I shall share it. But…" Ganghûthil paused. A lone chuckle of some...brooding satisfaction ushered forth as he spoke.

"But I believe we can indeed work towards common goals and common peace. Umbar, Harad, those in the west...and beyond, and Rhûn."

Kaludir looked upon Taruk with silent question in his eyes. Taruk did not respond in any way. As the room whispered and Ganghûthil and the eunuchs appeased the child Lord as his mother watched on with frightful curiosity as to what had just happened. What words spoken, what omen cast, what pact made.

The light of shimmering holograms illuminated their shared face while it stared with eyes of fire. Their visage once more that of Vica's natural being while the one who commanded the body was Sauron himself. Here now he sat within one of newly made countless rooms within his extravagant palace. A palace of seven mountains being burrowed, tunneled, and decorated by orc, by droid and by vision. His vision.

Nevertheless, the room was that of a conference hall with a long table able to seat over a dozen standard beings of sentience within. Many chairs of pristine cleanliness cushioned in their seats and backs waited to host guests that had not come, nor would they for some time yet. Not for years it would likely be. Upon the end of the table there was a seat greater than the rest. A signal of his own power. The power of the one who sat upon it. There now did Sauron sit and observe with silent fascination and unshared thoughts as a planetoid appeared before him. One of many he had observed, then passed and repeated again and again.

"So," The Witch appeared in her astral form and spoke. "These beings in the Unknown Regions...we're really taking it on ourselves to make them our problem?"

"We march towards destiny together. You and I, along with the host of gathered allies we have so far managed to bring to ourselves. Yet we must rebuild." Sauron intoned. His voice coming as her own in spoken form, but cool and even as often it was.

"The Republic and Confederacy make peace and within they contend with tumults of rebellions and usurpation. This galactic war has, and shall devolve into twin civil wars of varying intensity. With control and direction we shall turn loose those powers that shall make the Confederacy's dilemma lessened compared to that of the Republic. Even still we cannot hope that they prolong their internal strife. They will be able to stamp down on those interior conflicts. With time."

"What's that got to do with my question?" The Witch sighed in her spectral manner. Sauron felt his worn eyes, her eyes tilt up and he closed the lids before continuing.

"We have a destiny. One we forge ourselves in compact. We cannot allow for any force or power to come and gain strength while we whither and wain in the pursuit of our own interests. The Republic shall remain as it has for thousands of years based on the history of this galaxy. What little change may come shall be fought for tooth and nail by those who remain to pick up the pieces following Sidious." Sauron flicked the planet aside, and the hologram showed a new one that he studied over with his eyes. Streams of data, information on what was and wasn't known moving alongside the simulacra of the spinning world.

"If we're dealing with internal problems, how can you then say we must deal with an external invasive force? Concentrating on what's going on across the Confederacy should be priority one."

"It shall be. As well it shall be as a blizzard. A snowstorm that sweeps across all sight revealing nothing of what happens within, but feet before you. In simpler terms," Sauron continued, sensing the coming needling of his prose.

"The accords that shall be reached on Bestine will bring a final end to these Clone Wars. While the Republic deals with the issues within, so shall we. This gives cover to the massive movements of fleets, resources, droid armies which are plentiful and being wasted in storage or manning key worlds. Sidious had no intention of unleashing them upon the Republic to swarm over them. To grind the Republic down, superior troops or not, the hordes of these machine men would not be so easily overcome. Now we have reason to fully direct and unleash these vast resources. Yet, even in this there lay further motive."

"I'm sure you'll regale me." She scoffed in her familiarly flippant way. Her ghostly figure 'sat' upon the table to Sauron's left and she 'kicked' her legs in boredom while smiling in feigned sweetness.

"Hmm." Sauron intoned and again flicked the planet aside. Revealing a new one. He tilted the head he wore, and the blonde locks of Vica's head slid about her brow before he continued.

"These droids...they are superior to my Orcs, yet much as the Orcs they are found to be imperfect. We cannot hope to reach total perfection, much as it may irk me, but we shall strive to become more perfect. Exceed all manner of being we have yet disposed to us. For the Orcs, I and Doctor Zalliste shall attend to their perfection. Yet...the crafting of these droids requires political power like that of these Confederate ghouls we now direct through Grievous. The purses of these beings are not so idly emptied. These B1 droids, for example, are vast in number, but lack intellect. This need not be the case. I have seen the capabilities of their model predecessors, the OOM units. So too have those that followed shown themselves to be superior. The BX Commando droids are of superior programming."

"But, more expensive." Vica intuited and shrugged. "So what?"

Sauron swiveled in his seat to look at the astral visage of his bodily partner before speaking on.

"These droids are wasteful friction in their inability to perform to the best of their potentiality. They can be of use in the using up of mass produced goods. This shall be a key element in the necessary internal decay that will come to the Confederacy. Before, I believed we would waste the resources of the CIS against rebellions. Propping them up as necessary to facilitate a state of endless war. For endlessly we must wage some variation of war, between now and the coming war for the galaxy proper. To prepare and be prepared for that great doom. The Confederacy cannot be allowed to share in the wealth the elites and corporate minded fools who wield it have. With time these ideas of liberalization infect all political minds. Even ones such as now command the Confederacy. The people must languish as the mechanization and industry of their own freedom in wealth and being is used up for war.

'To that end, your original question – the droids will be useful in waging war against these Far Outsiders. They shall be used up, and their scrap taken, melted down and repurposed for superior units. The B2s, the Droidekas, the Vultures must all advance. To ready for another war. We shall not wage the same war but merely put on hold. Rather, it is to be a new war, and a terrible one such as never before been seen. For this reason and more we shall use up the great storehouses left in Sidious' wake against those foes waiting to strike, and in doing so, better make languish the people of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. For in that strife shall come...something else."

Vica remained quiet for a moment. Her spectral lips pursing as she took in what Sauron said. Making effort in their continued sharing of this body to actually understand what it was Sauron planned. For long and far out thought was the mind of the Dark Lord. Often did he speak on matters she had never dared to consider, and much as any mortal would rather issue her position or make plans once the issue had arisen. This was not the way of Sauron, nor the way for proper Order.

"I think I see." She offered at last. "But...what exactly will come? You've talked about the strife and allowing those now taking over the Confederacy to strip-mine the worlds within of wealth, but to what end? We'd be hurting ourselves."

"Would we?" Sauron hummed. Turning back to the hologram.

"Neither we nor Grievous control the government of the Confederacy. Not in any form the average commoner of this galaxy would understand. Allow to them, the bureaucrats and politicians, the freedom to take and plunder. Allow to them the chance to seed for us the cause of revolution, and given enough time a void will grow. A tear in the fabric of this Confederacy and galaxy that shall need filling. Into it we shall then fill."

"You've...put a lot of thought into this." A statement, and a truthful one that Sauron managed to present mirthless smile to, saying nothing, and yet everything at once.

"Well, I guess you'll reveal more...with time."

"You learn well." Sauron nodded as Vica smiled more to herself. Self-pleased in the sarcastic praise. She turned her attention onto the planetoid Sauron looked upon with her flesh and eyes. Tilting her specter she popped out of being and then reappeared on his opposite side. Her elbows 'pressed' into the table and her chin in her hands as she leaned in.

"What are you looking at?" She wondered aloud as Sauron remained fixed upon this world. Reading the stream of data that went by.

"A series of worlds." He began. "Countless though it may seem to be, in this galaxy there are billions. Some of great importance and many, many more of less. The Universe, however...the vastness of it is marvelous."

"I suppose so." Vica hummed. "Don't recognize this world." She nudged her chin towards the sphere. Sauron nodded before replying.

"This galaxy has in its near vicinity; relative to what 'near' means where this universe is concerned, seven satellite galaxies. Dwarf galaxies, which to me is a uniquely humorous term."

"Right." Vica giggled.

"Among the curiosities of this vast universe, however," Sauron intoned. "There are what are known as extragalactic stars. Curiously even extragalactic planets. Exoplanets, and extroplanets. Great orbs cast to the blackness between galaxies. Adrift, so it would seem, in the great black void." Sauron intoned as he looked upon the sphere. His fiery eyes glimmering as he observed what Vica would hazard to guess to be one such world. Something found beyond the great disk of the galaxy.

"Such wonder in the universe. So many marvelous places to observe, to see, and traverse. The ends and possibilities are boundless." Sauron nodded, and Vica did not press the issue.

As always, she would come to know what he meant. With time.

With him, she had infinite time.

L's Note: Hello everybody. May I just begin this note by saying it is ALWAYS hilarious to see people portending the doom and abandonment of this story. Like...not to be mean y'all but there have been WAY longer breaks than this one. Life gets in the way. I have a job, Lord Kun has a job. We're adults writing and editing a fanfiction for free because we love this story. He writes it of course, I just help and edit. But, the doom posting is a little weird. I must say. Both Lord Kun and I do appreciate the enthusiasm though, of course.

I won't ramble too much today. A relatively short and sweet chapter to get back into the swing of things. Pieces moving upon the board, and machinations as well as relaxations taking shape. Thanks again to all who have reviewed, and please do continue to do so if you feel inclined! Forgive any and all grammatical errors, as I have surely missed some here and there, and will doubtless need to go over this again, BUT for now do read up. ;P

-L

Edit Note: Edited/Updated 08/31/2024