Return from the Void ~Míriel

Chapter 2 ~Melkor’s Plan

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            “Frail Istari?” Melkor said in surprise.  “Why, I had heard that he was a great, powerful, Hobbit warrior!”

            Sauron cursed the day he had first spoken to Saruman.  That pesky wizard had been part of the reason for his downfall.  Had Saruman not tricked him by putting that little hobbit up to the palantir, why, Sauron might be ruler of Middle-Earth by now!

            Saruman snorted.  “Where ever did you hear that hobbits were great and powerful warriors?  They are weak, pathetic creatures.”

            Sauron shrunk a bit in fear, as he could feel Melkor’s anger burning towards him.  “Well, I never actually saw one...” he whimpered in defense.

            “Sauron?” Saruman said in surprise.

            “Yes.”

            “Listen, I hope that there aren’t any hard feelings about that trying to-get-the-Ring-for-myself ordeal.  What can I say; you made a powerful (and desirable) Ring!”

            Curse the day that he had first heard that flattering voice.  “Think nothing of it,” he said weakly, hoping that Saruman would stop before Melkor realized his deception.

            But it was far too late for that.  “Come, Saruman, is it?” Melkor crooned.  “Tell me of this...Gandalf.  I had heard that he was a great powerful hobbit warrior, akin to Tulkas with hairy feet!”

            Saruman laughed.  “Gandalf,” he sneered, “Is a weak old man, although he has great control over the hobbits, and they obey his every word.”

            “Hm...” Melkor said thoughtfully.  Sauron shuddered.  Melkor calm was worse than him angry.  “Sauron, Sauron, Sauron.”

            Why the name three times?  Oh, the agony of anticipation!  Why not simply grip his spirit with pain and be done with it?  “Yes, Melkor?” Sauron answered meekly.

            “I thought that you said this Gandalf was your downfall.”

            “He was!” and at a snort from Saruman; “In a roundabout way.”

            “I see.”

            Grovel.  He needed to grovel.  It had always worked for Saruman.  Although he hated belittling himself like this...and in front of Saruman...Sauron shrugged off the humiliation.  Better that then the alternative.  “Melkor, my lord, I was ashamed to admit my stupidity before one as great and mighty as you.”

            “Great and mighty, eh?”  Melkor sounded surprised.  Sauron had never groveled or flattered before.  He just might come through unscathed.

            “Yes, my liege.  I was ashamed to admit that Gandalf outsmarted us all.  He sent two hobbits (who are naught but small and insignificant, my lord) into Mordor, where they then destroyed the Ring.  Meanwhile, Gandalf sent Isildur’s heir and a very large army to distract me.  He was clever, my magnificent lord and master.”

            Saruman broke into an un-Istari-like coughing fit.  Perhaps the “magnificent” had been a bit much.

            Luckily, Melkor had never heard such flattery from the lips of Sauron, and he was relishing every minute of it.  “My dear lieutenant, surely you did not think that you could be as wise as I would have been?”

            “I had hoped, my lord.”  Sauron hoped Melkor would end this soon.  All of this sweet-talking was making him want to gag.

            Melkor sighed in pity for the poor soul who could never achieve the greatness that he had.  Saruman decided that this would be a wonderful time to interrupt.

            “So, my lords, what shall we do now?”

            “Now,” Sauron answered; “We stay in the Void until the end of Time.”

            “No!” Melkor shouted, ignoring Saruman’s audible groan.  “No.”

            “No?”  Sauron was feeling more than a bit irritated.  “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

            “Just that,” Melkor replied, sounding pleased.  “No.  No, no, no.  Would you like to hear it again?  No. No. No, no.”

            “I understand!” Sauron interrupted desperately.  Being in the Void truly had done things to Melkor’s mind. 

            “Perhaps, if you could clarify...?” Saruman suggested.

            Melkor laughed.  “Manwë will regret the day that he banished us to the Void.”

            Sauron rolled his eyes.  Well, he thought that he was rolling them, who could tell in this dark?  “Why will he regret the day?”

            “Don’t you see?” Melkor cackled.  “He has banished all of us here.  All of us together...” he prompted.

            Saruman and Sauron were silent. 

            “Was he always like this?” Saruman relayed to Sauron.

            “Not at first.  After that she-elf took his Silmaril he has gone a bit mad.” Sauron relayed back.

            Melkor sighed.  “Since you both are stupid enough as not to guess my magnificent plan, I shall tell you.  All of us are here, correct?”

            “Yes...” Saruman and Sauron answered together. 

            “And we are all powerful dark lords, correct?”

            Sauron felt the need to correct this statement.  “You were a powerful dark lord.  I was a powerful dark lord.  Saruman was a weak, traitor Istari.  I don’t see how—”

            Saruman sniffed.  “I may have been in the guise of an old man, but powers untold lurked beneath that guise.  And, as I recall, you were not a powerful dark lord, you were an eyeball.  A big, red, glowing—”

            “Silence!” Melkor thundered.  “The point is we are all dark lords.”

            “Yes.”

            “Thus, we should be able to summon our dark powers and bring ourselves out of the Void into Valinor.”

            “Actually,” Sauron corrected; “Valinor is no longer part of Middle Earth.  Those same pesky Númenoríans tried to set foot on the Undying Lands, and the Valar moved it from the circles of the world.”

            “Actually,” Saruman said; “the reason that they set foot on the Undying Lands was because a certain dark lord—”

            “Ahem.” Melkor interrupted.   “Fine.  We shall go to Middle Earth and conquer it.”

            Sauron sighed.  He had been hoping for a peaceful eternity in the Void.  “Could we not wait a millennia or so?”

             “No.  The time is now.  Come, chant with me.”  Melkor began to chant in the Black Speech.

            Sauron and Saruman just listened.

            Melkor stopped.  “Come, you must chant!   Otherwise all I say will be in vain.  With our combined powers, we might achieve something.”  He then went back to chanting.

            Saruman joined him a moment later.  Sauron did nothing, utterly feeling stupid. What was he supposed to chant?  He thought for a moment, and then began:

            “Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzon-ishi krimpatul.”

            “Keep going,” Melkor said excitedly; “I do believe that it is working!”

            Sauron was surprised.  Considering that the Ring was gone, he had thought that the verse might have the opposite effect, but, if it works...

            “Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzon-ishi krimpatul.”

            Sauron felt himself lifting.  He was beginning to fall again; but up this time.  His velocity increased until he thought that he would be ripped apart. 

            Then suddenly, everything began to glow with a light that hurt his eyes.  It was the Sun.

~~~

Author’s Notes: Yes, this story majorly (My spell check says that isn’t a word.) crosses the AU border.  If you look closely, the summery now says AU, as opposed to slightly AU.  The AU element will increase as the story progresses, although nothing too drastic.  Hear ye non-AU people, consider yourselves warned.

Reviewers:  This story is still in progress.  Any and all ideas are welcome.  If you enjoy this, please review.

Lamiel:  Thank you for your review!  I hope that you enjoy the rest of this!

Bryn:  Thanks for all the great ideas.  I think that you will love the next chapter.