Archive for the ‘09 Silmarillion: Quenta 11’ Category

#44: Melkor is Keeping Secrets from Me!

Apr
24

Date: March 25th, 1 F.A. (Years of the Sun)
My Mood Is: betrayed

Today is my birthday. And it’s ruined!

Yeah yeah yeah, okay, how can I, Sauron Gorthaur, Chief of the Maiar, Master of Angband and Lord of Werewolves, who was made at the hand of Eru Ilúvatar in the Timeless Halls in the Days Before Days, have a birthday?

I’d like to say I determined it through some fancy calculation based on esoteric knowledge known only to the Ainur. But in fact, I picked it myself when I was hiding in the East during the Imprisonment of Melkor. It cheered me up to celebrate my birthday, and gift myself with a meal of raw Elf-flesh.

Anyway. Today was my birthday, but I was working, checking the outer defenses of Angband. It seems the Valar, perturbed by Melkor’s escape, have doubled the fortifications around Valinor, making their mountains extra tall with slippery slides you can’t climb. This is utterly ridiculous, since (1) they left an ungated entrance right smack dab in the middle of the wall, so their Elvish pets can get in and out, and (2) WE CAN SHIFT SHAPE AND FLY. Morons.

But I was double-checking the walls, climbing along the peaks of Thangorodrim when I came upon something astonishing — there was an Elf chained to one of the peaks!

WTF???

So I talked to him. His name is Maedhros, and intimidated by the Terror of My Eyes, he started blabbing his whole story, which was pretty much based on being sorely mistreated by this fellow called “Morgoth.”

It took me a while to figure out that “Morgoth” is Melkor. Yes, this was one of those idiot Elves who went across the sea to go be willing slaves and captives of the Valar. Apparently, they’re back — at least, some of them.

One of them was called Fëanor, who had these jewels that Melkor really, really wanted. (Can you imagine? A being of our divine stature, obsessed with a piece of jewelry? How stupid is that? What is wrong with Melkor nowadays???) So I guess Melkor killed some king, stole the jewels, and fled to Angband.

This Fëanor and his friends followed, and want to get the jewels back. Apparently they did a lot of evil shit along the way — Fëanor sounds like he might have been kind of a cool guy, for an Elf.

Anyway, Fëanor arrives in Beleriand, and is immediately attacked by an army of Orcs. He prevails, and raising an army of his own, and begins to march on Angband (ha!). He’s attacked again, and this time, Gothmog kills him.

Then Melkor actually sent ambassadors to negotiate with Fëanor’s sons. Remember the last time we negotiated? With mortals? Neither do I!

There’s another battle, and the Elves are slain or forced to flee. But this guy, Maedhros, eldest son of Fëanor, was captured, and Melkor chained him to the mountain.

Now, the problem with all this is I KNEW NOTHING ABOUT IT. Why on Middle-Earth would Melkor send out an army without me to lead them? We only ever lose battles when Melkor is in charge! I never lose!

I’ll tell you why. Because when Melkor first got back from Valinor and tried to tell me about all the shenanigans he got into with Elves out there, I made fun of the idea that Anthropomorphic Manifestations of Eternal Verities, like us, would ever give a flying crap about anything one of the “Children of Ilúvatar” did or said. It’s like you, dear reader, worrying about what a hill of ants thinks of you.

I think Melkor was embarrassed after telling me about it. And now he didn’t want to tell me that these idiotic Elves had followed him home.

I’m going to go talk to Melkor about this. You know, things were really a lot better before he came back. No Valinorian super-Elves with bright eyes, no freakin’ Sun or Moon. All because he killed those idiotic trees and stole some jewels.

Hmn. I want to see these jewels. I can’t imagine they’re worth all this trouble.

#43: Ow, The Light! My Eyes! Again!!!

Apr
21

Date: January 1st, 1 F.A. (Years of the Sun)
My Mood Is: excruciated

Auuuugh!

Just when you think those filthy, Elf-loving Valar traitors are out of your fur, they pull some ridiculous stunt!

Last night I was overseeing the feeding and brushing of the Orc-spawn, weeding out and gobbling down the weak ones, when Carcharoth came yelping into Angband, complaining about some horrible light in the sky. I went out to take a look.

It seems Aulë, my clueless and talent-free ex-boss, rescued some of the light from one of those idiotic trees, and used it to create a moon. Well, The Moon, because they’re never going to be able to pull this shit again. Some guy Tilion, a Maia of Oromë, was hauling this big, round white piece of junk across the sky — our sky that was so beautiful and black before Varda vomited stars all over it.

Well, Melkor and I were still debating which of us would kill Tilion and which would consume The Moon, denying the world its light forever, when the unthinkable happened.

From the East, a terrible bright burning started to rise from the horizon, which resolved into a bright, white light shifted toward the yellow. The firmament turned blue as this terrible light extinguished The Moon and the stars.

Then a burning ball of fire rose into the sky. It would have been the most beautiful thing in the world, if we had made it, all burning hydrogen and deadly radiation — but its fiery light was poisoned and diluted by the weak, golden radiance saved from the dried out husk of one of those trees.

I could feel its heat on my face even from tens of thousands of miles away. And now the whole world was baking under its merciless calefaction, and all those things that love the night and the dark and fear and teeth, like my beloved wolves, were forced to hide in the rocks and dirt.

Those assholes!

Well, Melkor wasn’t going to put up with this shit. He and I and a hundred Balrogs sped into the sky, and by the time the fiery orb had settled below the horizon in the West, we had caught up to Tilion. He and Melkor fought, while the rest of us assailed the orb — but its cold light burned, and my flesh and fur were seared, and several of the Balrogs were extinguished.

We made a strategic retreat, and Melkor sits on his throne in the Nethermost Pits even as I write, devising ways to eradicate the Moon, and the Sun, as they are calling it.

We found out that Arien steers the Sun through the sky, which has caused a big uproar here in Angband. She was one of the most powerful of the Fire Spirits back in the Timeless Halls (and one of the hottest, too — in both senses of the word).

It’s inconceivable to us that one so worthy would join with the Valar traitors, and assail us with fire, which is our element, not theirs. She’s going to have to be destroyed — unless I can turn her…

Imagine hurling the Sun right smack dab into the center of Valimar, the City of the Valar! How cool would that be?