ÉG veit að þið eruð ekki sérlega hrifin af copy-paste korkum eða greinum, en ég gat nú ekki stillt mig þegar ég rakst á þetta. Brilliant…
“A day in the life of Sauron” (22. September 2968)
by Finduilas
“That was really a day I wished I hadn’t gotten up! I really wanted a topping-out ceremony at Barad-dûr, and so I sent for the Nine. I reckoned it was a good idea to celebrate the new beginning here in Mordor and raise the spirits a bit. I know the three gents in Dol Guldur are bored. They don’t like to live in ruins (as if that were my doing) and Number One in Minas Morgul… oh, I’ll come back to Number One later. At any rate, the Nine are whining around and hardly fit. I’ll have to find a new task for them soon to get them back on the go. They had hardly all arrived when the trouble began. They complained that I had distributed the Rings only to men. Khamûl frankly asked why I hadn’t distributed half of the nine rings to women - and that from the same bloke who’s been complaining for centuries that he’s only my Number Two! I was genuinely wondering whether I shouldn’t fix the ”mistake“ of an odd number and make the nine to eight. Usually I can rely on Number One in such situations, but he is hardly of much use at the moment. He’s brooding over some ancient prophecies and wants me to explain them to him. Actually, I’d hoped that putting him in command at Minas Morgul would bring his mind off this elven quack. Well, it hasn’t worked. He still has these moments where it seizes him. Poor bloke. I tried to distract him with female issues, but his paranoia has already gnawed deeper than I’d thought. I only mentioned ”women“ and he jumped out of his skin and almost out of the window (and that in the ballroom on the top storey of Barad-dûr). After I’d calmed him as far as the circumstances allowed, he merely whispered, ”not through the hand of a man“, really, that is hardly a suitable battle attitude. I wished he’d cut that out. I made him boss of the poultry farm; a hobby should calm him down somewhat. He always was a little strained, but now it’s developing to a disquieting tendency. Of course, it’s all Mandos’ fault - the Balrog on Cirith Thoronath had seen to all that so nicely. But no, that blissless elf had to come back at all costs and disquiet my Number One with his prophetic gargle. I really wish that my enemies (especially that blond elven-venom in her enchanted wood) would have to deal with that sort of inconvenience for a change. Besides the Nine, I wanted to invite the dear relatives. Of course they are not exactly entertaining, although I must admit their eternal silence is rather disquieting. I also consider, that as relatives, they could be expected to lend a hand once in a precious while. But as it always is with the dear family, should once you need them, there is nobody around. Number One reckons they are all deceased, but I know better; lurking out there in the dark, and too good to come over and help me out when I need them. When our ol’ man was still here they knew their duties - but now I’m being ignored. No sense of family any more. It’s ever so saddening when the relatives vanish like this and don’t call for centuries. Little wonder people have forgotten whether they have wings or not - serves them right. (Well, at least I don’t have a raving, megalomaniac uncle in my family tree - is one advantage over some folks.) I finally chased the Nine out to all winds; they were depressing me. I tried to calm down a little by polishing rings, but of course the empty compartment in the case just wouldn’t stop staring at me. Fixed like an eye; it made me shudder! After that I felt even more depressed. Finally I spent some time looking into the Palantír and had an interesting idea. Something like that should be in every house! People would sit in front of it constantly, neglecting work and family. One could confuse their minds with all sorts of pictures and ideas. When I have more time I must get down to it. Sounds very promising!”
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