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Follows Maglor on his self-exiled journey across Middle-earth
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03/23/19 05:36 pm
Sending you hugs, Ziggy. I know exactly how exhausting it is to go through Ofsted. Spoil yourself this weekend xxx
03/23/19 11:52 am
I will try to oblige later this weekend, ziggy. My mum was a teacher, I remember her rants about Ofsted very well. *hugs*
03/23/19 10:21 am
Big hug Narya- now it's your turn please. I have had an Ofsted inspection at my school this week- exhausted at the unnecessary brutality - but it's out of the way and I can write now all weeke
Spiced Wine
03/22/19 09:06 pm
Thank you, Narya :)
03/22/19 08:54 pm
*Squee* Spiced and Ziggy updates in one day! I am spoiled and so, so happy :D
Spiced Wine
03/22/19 10:23 am
Happy Friday!
03/22/19 06:57 am
And a Ziggy update to read after work :D
03/22/19 06:56 am
Happy Friday!
Spiced Wine
03/17/19 10:40 am
Settling down and getting much nicer after tomorrow, Ziggy!
03/16/19 11:39 pm
Anyone else fed up with this awful weather?? At least it means we snuggle up and read and write:)
Shout Archive

Dark Judgement: Scaly and Unwashed by Glorfindel

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Story notes:
Part of the Dark Judgement series.

I do not own the elves or their surroundings. I make no profit and have no intention of making any. Although the characters belong to Tolkien and/or New Line, this story is my own idea and my own representation of them, therefore any archiving without permission will not be tolerated.
Chapter notes:
Sauron, Maglor and little traineee dark lord Erestor are dining at a sea front restaurant. What could possibly go wrong?

Maglor and I like to take little Erestor, our adopted son, to various sea front restaurants in Alqualondë. He enjoys eating al fresco, while watching the dolphins, killer whales and mad eyed sharks frolicking in the sea beyond. He especially enjoys watching ships suddenly falling apart and sinking far out at the fringes of the harbour waters. I am always filled with pride as I watch my little boy holding his belly because he cannot stop laughing. I must admit, the cries of the drowning elves are music to my ears as well.

In the end, Maglor always spoils our fun by demanding that I use my powers to rescue the elves. Of course, I always accede to him. I would not want to endure his guilt ridden, soul searching recriminations because I let the hapless elves drown. I doubt Lord Manwë would be pleased either. He agrees that I should use my powers constructively, and for good, so typical of him. He conveniently chooses to forget that ships tend to sink only when Erestor accompanies us to dinner. If my little boy wants to watch a ship sink then so be it!

I was tucking into a juicy slab of rare steak, when Elrond waltzed up to our table. As I have mentioned before, Elrond is a friend of mine. We sit together at the Skid-a-pie parties and bet on the outcomes. I can forgive him the presence of his heifer wife, simply because he has the most amazing library full of books about the sufferings of the elves. If I need a light and joyous read, I know that I can find one in his library, and he will not mind lending his books to me. At present, I am rereading a wonderful tome about the privations of the elves when crossing the Helcaraxë. It is probably my favourite book. I never cease to find it screamingly funny. Tears of laughter literally fall down my cheeks every time I read it, which is why I haven't given it back yet. He jokes that he should give it to me as a Yule present, and I agree, he should.

"Círdan has just told me that he is expecting a ship from over the sea. I thought we had seen the last of them. Anyway, it should appear over the horizon any minute now. According to him, this one is special and passage has been granted by Lord Eru himself." Elrond was beside himself. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes full of nervous excitement.

Erestor's big eyes lit up at the mention of the ship. Maglor told him to eat his food.

"Did Círdan say who the passengers would be?" Elrond had piqued my interest. I wondered if my services as Valinor's premier psychiatrist would be required again.

"Lord Manwë told Círdan that the newcomers are related to me. I am hoping with all my heart that Arwen and her family are aboard the ship. I have prayed to Lord Eru every day since my arrival that one day I could see her again. Celebrían says that she dares not to hope, lest we are disappointed."

"My friend, have you asked yourself why Lord Manwë did not tell you this himself?" It seemed to me that Elrond was clutching at straws. I doubted very much that Arwen was anywhere at all. I am not about to stop anyone from being hugely disappointed and feeling suicidal as a result of having discussed a personal desire with me and being proved wrong, indeed I would quite enjoy their predicament; however, there were advantages in never having treated Elrond for the damages caused by myself when we inhabited Middle-earth, and I was not about to lose them.

He looked crestfallen. "No. I hoped so much that I did not dare to."

I took his hand. "Then I will hope along with you." It was the last thing I wanted to say. Indeed, I do not see why I should have to be nice to anyone. But there it is. I was nice, and not for any altruistic reason either. Manwë was invisibly hovering behind me. I could feel his breath on my neck.

"There's the ship," Erestor shouted. The other diners looked out to sea, emitting a stream of hurrahs. I did not; I am above such demonstrative behaviour. Instead I carried on eating my delicious steak.

"I am going to wait on the dock and hope," Elrond said. "Celebrían might need me."

"Poor Elrond," Maglor said, as we watched him walk away. "Look at him."

"My heart goes out to him," I replied. Erestor stared at me, no doubt wondering if I had swapped brains with Mad Legolas.

"'You know who' is here. Isn't he?" Maglor said through our connection.

I smiled. Manwë could read minds, so I was not going to answer any question that might see me at the mercy of a tentacled monster.

Manwë chose that moment to materialise. The other diners bowed low in reverence to him, while I simply smiled enquiringly. "That was good of you, Sauron. You seemed almost caring."

"I fear my friend will be disappointed. He will be, won't he?" I managed to look as if I cared.

"What do you care?" Manwë stole a lettuce leaf from the salad bowl. It was bad enough that he steals my fruit at home. To act that way in public just shows how badly bred he is.

I resisted the temptation to remark on his thievery. "I care very much that my friend is not hurt to such a degree that he requires my attention. I value his input as one who knows my true abilities."

"Or worth," Manwë sniped.

"My husband is of supreme worth," my ever loyal Maglor sniffed disdainfully.

"My ada is better than you!" Erestor said loudly. The diners at the nearest table made out they were deaf, which is as good a survival strategy against Manwë as any other.

Manwë chose to smile at my little boy's exclamation. "One day, little Erestor, you may not think your ada is quite the person you thought he was."

"I think you should go away. Lettuce stealer!" Only a tiny elfling could get away with talking to Manwë like that. Had Erestor been any older there would have been consequences.

"It is lucky that you are so young and know not to fear when you should," Manwë hissed. He turned to me. "It is lucky for you as well."

"Yes, My Lord," I replied. "Will Elrond and his wife be disappointed?" I did my best to look concerned. I believe I sighed as well, not too dramatically though; Manwë is not an idiot.

At that point Elrond came rushing over. "Lord Manwë. I need to ask you something!"

Manwë glared at him, turned and disappeared. Elrond looked as crestfallen as any elf could, probably as much as Glorfindel does when a freak gust of wind disrupts his hair.

"I had hoped to ask him about..." he sighed as if defeated. "What is the use? He doesn't want to speak to me. Celebrían sent me over; she cannot stand the suspense."

"He stole some of our salad," Erestor said, still outraged.

"It was only a lettuce leaf," I said, hoping he would shut up. Manwë was still hovering around, albeit invisibly. "The salad is so delicious here that I am surprised none of the other Valar take a leaf or two."

"It's still bad manners though. Isn't it?" Elrond piped up. "I wouldn't be able to eat my food after someone else touching it. Unless it was Celebrían, of course."

Shut up, Elrond!

I knew it would happen. Reality stopped and I was, once again, in front of the Valar. Manwë slapped my face with his glove. Culturally I attach no importance to something the elves regard as an insult of the highest order, so I merely looked at him benignly while the other Valar stared, no doubt wondering why he was being such a halfwit.

"Tell me why Elrond holds me in such contempt." The roar of his voice and the raging wind that accompanied it almost knocked me flat. I count myself lucky that Manwë chose to speak out of his mouth and not his arse.

"It is unlike him to say such a thing, Master. Perhaps he is disappointed that you would not talk to him? I believe his wife is beside herself and she urged him to talk to you."

"How I choose to comport myself is nothing to you or to any elf."

Nàmo stepped forward. "Nevertheless, you chose to ignore him. How are we to be seen as compassionate when you so cruelly ignore the distress of one who is so beloved of the Elves? Remember, they are beloved of Lord Eru as well."

"Elrond's reaction is no fault of Sauron's," Lady Varda said. "He is only here because you felt the need to terrorise someone. A tiny child calls you, quite rightly, a lettuce stealer and you completely overreact."

There was lots of murmuring among the other Valar, who sided with Lady Varda. I did my best to look innocent, which was not hard beings as I was. Manwë whirled around to face his accusers. Flinging great streams of lightning across the vast room he spoke, coldly and slowly. Unfortunately, I did not hear any but the first couple of words. Lady Varda pointed her finger at me and I was back at the restaurant, sitting with Maglor and Erestor. Thunderclouds rapidly formed in the deep blue sky and lightning hit the sea. Elrond hastily said that he was going to get Celebrían inside and ran away as fast as his legs could carry him.

"There is going to be a storm," I said, quite unnecessarily; it was already pouring with rain.

"Lord Manwë is spoiling our dinner again." Erestor's voice was filled with disgust.

I looked at Maglor, who quickly told Erestor to stop throwing groundless accusations around, no matter how true they might seem to be. That would have to do for now. I could see Manwë questioning me about that as well. But not now though. The Valar were arguing, and it seemed Manwë was having a hard time of it.

The manager of the restaurant brought out huge umbrellas for the diners to sit under as we ate. He delivered mine first, simply because we are his favourite patrons. The amounts we spend there more than account for that. I doubt I am popular enough among the elves for it to assigned to any other reason.

Erestor sat watching the ship moving further towards the dock. His big eyes looked up at me, pleadingly. "All right then," I said indulgently. A shaft of lightning that should have struck the sea reduced the side of the ship to a burst of splinters. Fire tore through the sails and the masts collapsed one by one, simply because I made it so. The cries of the panic stricken elves caught in the water among the mountainous crashing waves was music to my ears, indeed the excitement was almost sexual.

"YES!" Erestor shouted as he stood up on his chair. He gleefully hugged my head, and then pointed at the elves in the water.

"Sit down." Maglor caught our little boy just before he fell. The poor little thing was laughing so hard that he misbalanced. "It's odd how that shaft of lightning bent in the middle."

I looked innocently at my only one. "Odd indeed."


"Ada stop spoiling our fun," Erestor shouted. It really was quite noisy, what with the pelting rain and the noise of the sea. Some of the diners made squeaking sounds of alarm and distress. None of them tried to rescue the survivors though.

"Be quiet, Erestor!" Maglor looked as though he might slap him.

"I am sure they will be fine," I said quickly. With a wave of my hand the elves rose above the water and drifted to land, slowly, so we could enjoy watching them being pelted by the driving rain. Forced altruism only goes so far with me. "Now, let's finish our dinner and then we can go inside for some warming hot wine."

"Can I have some?" Erestor asked, forgetting the distress of the survivors. I replied that he could, reflecting that unless my little boy concentrated a bit more on the sufferings of others he would never make a successful Dark Lord and would always remain a trainee. Perhaps his weakness is because he is an elf. It is part of their doom that they are compelled to care about the fate of others. I am not too concerned though; it seems to be the only character flaw he possesses.

"Thank you," Maglor said quietly. Eagle ears Erestor heard and shot his ada a look of disgust, but said nothing. "I am rather enjoying eating out here in the storm." His face dropped. "We won't be hit by lightning?"

I waved my hand and the rain stopped over all the diners within the restaurant perimeter bounds. The other diners cheered and clapped. It felt quite odd being applauded by elves. The manager scurried out to take our now empty plates. He always gives us personal service at some point during our meal. I suspect he thinks his attentions will ensure we come back.

"It is like the rain is falling on invisible glass," he exclaimed as one of his staff removed the umbrella. "Thank you, my Lord. Your patronage has made my restaurant one of the most successful in Valinor. We receive such visitors and experience such wonderful events when you come here. I insist that I pay for your meal."

"Thank you, but you insisted the same last time we came here," I replied graciously. "It would not do for your restaurant to lose money." He tried to protest. "No, I will pay. It is only right."

"Of course, my Lord," he acquiesced. Leaning closer he told me that I never needed to book a table in advance; he would always accommodate me and my family. Such a boon is to be valued above any free meal.

Word will spread far and wide that I refused a free meal. This will have only positive consequences. The impressionable will be impressed that I am not using my position to fleece others, the more hard thinking will assume that it is a matter of etiquette and be comforted by the fact that a Dark Lord is voluntarily, for now, playing by the rules. It should impress the scurrilous Manwë no end. Everything I do is to avoid his tentacled creatures; they are the only beings that I am truly terrified of.
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