Live Journal FeedIn which Sauron is a drama-queen and Ginny tells him so.
This was not normal. Standing with his back against the wall next to the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower, Sauron tried to control his mind and breathing. It didn’t work too well. Someone must have cursed him; there was no other explanation. He felt sick and confused, and Sinistra’s face kept haunting him, mixed with memories of his long and eventful past. All in all he was miserable.
“Are you coming in or not?”
The Doorknob had taken notice of him. He sighed.
“What’s the riddle?”
“I am an instrument of creation, yet when misused I draw blood. I have one eye but I cannot see. What am I?”
Hearing that, Sauron dropped his head in his hands and sunk down against the wall, muttering things in Black Speech that sounded suspiciously much like “I hate my life”. The Doorknob seemed slightly worried.
“Is something wrong?”
“You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“Even doorknobs hate me. Htol-za…”
The Doorknob didn’t answer, and Sauron was left alone with his thoughts that were still racing uncontrollably. Eventually a Ravenclaw prefect –not Precious, praise Melkor- came back from patrolling the halls and let him in. He couldn’t sleep though, and no matter how much he thought on his unexpected problem, making sense of it he didn’t…
A shadow fell over Ginny’s books, and she looked up from her work to see Sauron, looking even more doom-and-gloom than usual.
“Brosh, Sauron. Mal latum?”
He sent her a slightly orange-tinted glare that promised pain and torment, before he said,
“Brus-izg push.”
Ginny raised an eyebrow in surprise. Had she heard that correctly, or was it a translation error? Had she actually heard Sauron Gorthaur admit he had a problem of some sorts?
“Garn…”
Ginny couldn’t believe her eyes. The impressive, intimidating Maia… actually looked somewhat embarrassed. It was a rare sight, usually reserved for moments after a temper tantrum.
“Shra dushuzat-ishi.”
Someone cursed him? Ginny didn’t know anyone who would dare to curse Sauron, especially not after a couple incidents in DADA that had landed his dueling partners in sickbay. She didn’t really understand why he came to her; he was more than capable of extracting revenge for himself if needed.
“Mirz?”
Sauron gave her another -slightly more warning- doomglare.
“I do not wish to discuss this here.”
That must have been quite the curse… Ginny observed Sauron, and noticed that he seemed tense, more troubled than angry really. Suddenly she felt worried for her friend; what had happened to him? They went to his room, and there Ginny dropped down on the bed.
“So, what happened?”
Sauron glared and harshly said.
“I don’t know. I don’t even know why I am telling you this. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Ginny held her hands up in surrender.
“I’m sorry…”
“How many times must I tell you not to apologize? It is annoying, and I can’t have it right now.”
She swallowed a second automatic apology and cocked her head to the side.
“Okay. If you don’t want to talk about it, why did you tell me?”
Sauron stared at his hands.
“I suppose because I have no one else to ask.”
It was ironic, but Ginny was too worried to laugh.
“Then ask. I’ll try to help.”
“I have been cursed. I don’t know who did it or what curse was used.”
“What did it do? Maybe I recognize it.”
The troubled gleam in his flaming eyes increased.
“It’s… A sense… a sense of…”
He didn’t find his words, again. It was hard to describe the exact feeling, the exact problem… He saw Ginny’s expectant, worried look, and tried again.
“It is a need, a longing for something. It’s like feeling something that isn’t there, like an amputee who still feels his long-lost limb.”
He frowned.
“My chest is constricted as if buried under stones, but I can breathe freely. My insides feel as if they’re clenched tightly in a monster’s fist, but I have no injuries and I feel no physical pain. It is as if I’m tied, a leash attached to my innards, tugging and pulling me. My thoughts run in circles, I can’t concentrate, and everything seems to have changed somehow, even though nothing is different.”
Something began to dawn on Ginny, but Sauron wasn’t finished yet.
“And… there is this… thing, that I cannot describe correctly in English. Dûmbûrzum. Doomdarkness.”
Trying to explain that would require him to tell Ginny of his past, of his actions in Middle-Earth, of his Ring, of the fear and terror he had spread. He could not explain dûmbûrzum to her because she had no idea of how war felt, how despair sounded, how defeat tasted. It was impossible to translate in a way she would understand. He clenched his fists in sudden anger, frustrated at his inability to convey exactly what was happening to him.
Ginny remarked.
“I… Well, I didn’t know you had it in you.”
That made him look up in surprise.
“What?”
“It’s professor Sinistra, no?”
“How…”
“Do you find yourself thinking of her at random and inopportune moments?”
He nodded, speechless.
“Do you feel contented and happy when she pays attention to you?”
Another, short nod.
“Do you want to be with her all the time?”
He looked suspiciously at her.
“How do you know this? Are you the one who…”
Ginny chuckled; she couldn’t help it. All the time she had worried that something really bad was going on with him, and it was just…
“You’re in love, Sauron.”
He frowned angrily at her.
“Impossible.”
Ginny shrugged.
“You really are. There’s nothing to do about it.”
“Maiar don’t fall in love.”
“From what you told me I’d say that they certainly do. And hard, at that.”
His eyes flamed in frustration and he hissed.
“Don’t taunt me…”
Ginny shook her head. The Intimidating-Maia-look didn’t work so well anymore now she knew he was in complete denial about his attraction to professor Sinistra.
“I don’t taunt you. I’m just telling the truth. If you don’t believe me you can go to the sickbay and have yourself checked for magical curse residue… but you really are in love with professor Sinistra. I recognize the symptoms.”
Sauron’s frown deepened.
“You cannot have felt such a thing as this. Love is light, frivolous and useless. This… this is…” Dark and crushing and devastating and desperate… Sauron didn’t manage to say it. He just shook his head. “This cannot be love.”
“I’m not saying that I’ve ever felt it so hard as you say you feel it. But the main symptoms are similar. You should at least consider the possibility.”
“I knew speaking to you would be no use. Leave me.”
Seeing that there wasn’t much she could do, Ginny nodded and got up.
“Okay. Come see me when you’ve figured it out.”
She left the Ravenclaw tower feeling conflicted. Sauron really had a warped idea of what love was. Did they not have romance in Mordor? Even if he had never been in love himself, he should at least have seen people in love and have an idea of what it was like. She hoped he would figure it out soon; he and professor Sinistra would make a cute pair…
“Hey Sauron.”
Luna Lovegood, of course. Sauron gritted his teeth in frustration. If not for the lessons he would never have left his room… His conversation with Ginny had left him confused and angry, and that was always a bad combination in him.
“What is it?”
“Just wondering if you were okay. You seemed a little agitated in DADA class.”
If agitated was a code word for murderous and bent on destruction, then yes he had been a little agitated. The students (and the windows, and the furniture) had gotten to know the full extent of his agitation…
“I am fine. Leave me alone.”
Sauron was pretty sure that he looked quite terrifying, but Luna was completely undeterred. She gave him that mysterious smile and said softly.
“Sometimes it helps to take a step back and look at yourself. Like… in a mirror.”
He glared at her, muttered something ugly, and simply walked away. Only when she was out of sight he allowed himself to contemplate what she had said. Look in a mirror… Sauron didn’t quite get it, and he wished he could just discard it as nonsense. Unfortunately, so far all Luna’s ridiculous counsel had turned out to make sense in the end, and he was sure this piece of advice would be no different.
Look in a mirror…
“Its foremost use is showing the confused or deluded what is truly in their heart. Not all people know that equally well.”
The Mirror of Erised. Sauron scowled. He knew what he desired most; he had already seen it… But what if Ginny was right, part of his mind told him. What if he desired not power and the Ring most, but Sinistra?
“Nonsense.”
He said it out loud, as to convince himself. His treacherous mind continued however. If he wasn’t “in love” with Sinistra, then looking in Erised would prove that. Didn’t he dare? What was he afraid of? Eventually he got frustrated with his own thoughts and walked with great strides to the room where he had found the Mirror, frightening all students he encountered on his way. It was still there, exactly the way he had left it. He would prove himself for once and for all that he was not in love with that wretched woman…
When he looked into the mirror, a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding escaped in embarrassing relief. He still saw Mordor, with its dark soil and clouded skies, as from a window in Barad-dûr… The relief faded however when he realized that there was no trace of the Orcs feasting on the corpses of the fallen. And where was he in this picture? As if the Mirror heard his request, the image turned a bit, showing the same balcony where he had once seen himself basking in victory with his Ring. He still saw himself... and next to him stood Sinistra. With a sense of despair creeping up on him, Sauron watched how his “mirror image” protectively held an arm around the astronomy professor, whispered something in her ear that made her laugh, and then passionately kissed her. He was in shock. It was as if by watching the scene, the realization became absolutely undeniable and solidified itself in his very fëa. He loved Sinistra.
Love wasn’t anything like what he had imagined it to be. It was dark and consuming, and it burned like a Balrog’s whip on his mind. For the very first time, Sauron understood how “heartbreak” could drive a mortal to suicide. The longing he felt when seeing the illusory images in the Mirror seemed to tear at him, and it actually felt like something broke when another realization dawned on him. Sinistra would never return his feelings. Certainly, he was experienced enough to talk her into his bed, and if that failed there were always other, less ethically justified options to get his way… But that wasn’t what he wanted. No disguise or deception would bring him any happiness, if anything it would only make him more desperate. He wanted her to know him, to know everything about him… and still love him like he loved her. And that was impossible. You couldn’t just spend a couple millennia being the main force of evil in a world, and then expect someone to hold anything other than fear or contempt for you. Sauron had always thought that was an advantage, but now the knowledge was crushing him.
He didn’t know how he got back to his room… But he did end up there, and stayed there all day, missing all his other lessons. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.
Five days Sauron spent cooped up in his room. He didn’t open the door for Ginny when she softly asked in Black Speech if he was okay, he didn’t budge when Luna attempted to lure him out with food –he had gone without far longer before- and not even Professor Flitwick managed to get him out. It was obvious that he didn’t open the door for Precious Nibelungen. He hadn’t needed to ward his room; the darkness of his mind had settled in the room like a shroud, keeping any intruders out more effectively than any ward could. All the time, he simply sat on his bed, playing with his wand and fighting the horrid despair that seemed to have overtaken his mind…
“Sauron, thlûk ob za! Badz dagronk rad!”
Ginny was back, and she sounded miffed. He didn’t pay attention to it, too consumed by his own thoughts. The girl didn’t give up though.
“Flitwick said that if you don’t come out he’ll have to send Dumbledore at you. Do you want that?”
With a threatening and ominous voice he said,
“Ginny, âdh-izish.”
But Ginny didn’t leave.
“You are going to stop being a htolûrz drama-queen and you’re going to stop it right now! Tîr rad, Sauron!”
No one had ever called him a drama-queen before. No one would have dared to speak like that to him, ever! How dared she!
“Awol hûr! Puzg fîgûz-lab!”
“What are you going to do, stare me to death from behind the door?”
She had a point, but he wasn’t about to admit that.
“Ukh kraat!”
“If this is about what I think it’s about, then you’re really a flâgît lorz!”
She had called him a stupid idiot. She. Had. Called. HIM. A stupid idiot. And there was nothing he could do about it. Sauron just couldn’t believe it. How low the mighty had fallen… But for some reason, being insulted did exactly what food and coaxing hadn’t managed; he opened the door and sent Ginny a glare of death that would have made a lesser woman piss her pants. Ginny met his glare with a look of resolve and triumph.
“Finally.”
“You… you…”
Ginny just came in, carrying a basket with what he suspected was food, completely ignoring his fuming temper. It was clear however that the dreadful feeling hanging in the room startled her.
“I’m not going to apologize. Now close that door and tell me what the fuck is wrong with you.”
Somehow, Ginny’s calm and resolute demeanor made the worst of his anger fade. He still glared though.
“You have some guts.”
“I thought you would approve. So, what’s this about?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. You wouldn’t understand anyway.”
“Let me guess. You have finally figured out that you’re in love with Professor Sinistra, and now you have gotten it in your head that she’ll reject you.”
Sauron couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping.
“How…”
“You’re behaving exactly like a teenage girl falling in love for the first time, only with more doom and black clouds and other dark-lord-ish drama.”
Ginny blatantly said.
“You’re just a teenage girl yourself!”
“Yes, so I have first hand experience of the whole thing.”
They glared at each other… Surprisingly enough, it was Sauron who gave up first.
“You cannot understand it.”
“Why do you think she’ll reject you? From what I’ve seen and heard you’re pretty much her favorite student, and on the Yule Ball it was rather obvious that she liked you as more than that. I mean, do you think that a professor sneaking away with a student from an official party is a normal thing here?”
Sauron’s lips quirked in a bitter smirk...
“Tell me, the man who tried to “eat your soul” and feed your body to a basilisk… I am certain he committed more crimes than just that. If you had known of all his crimes beforehand, would you have gotten infatuated with him?”
Ginny shook her head.
“Of course not.”
And then she realized she had answered her own question.
“Sauron… Do you really think she doesn’t know?”
“Huh?”
“You’re obviously a dark wizard, and since you’re so old you have probably done more dark things than even You-Know-Who. It’s already obvious to me, and you do spend way more time with Sinistra than with me. Don’t look at me like that; you have “Astronomy Class” practically every night these days. So, I repeat, do you really think she doesn’t know?”
He raised his eyebrows in slight disbelief.
“I am… obviously… a dark wizard?”
“You are tall, creepy and gloomy, you talk about going to war like people here talk about going to the supermarket, you have the most macabre sense of humor and the darkest wand I’ve ever seen or heard of, when you get angry your eyes flame and the sky gets dark and cloudy, and on top of that you lived in this huge dark tower that couldn’t have been a more obvious evil lair if it had had a neon sign saying “EVIL LAIR”. Yes Sauron, you are obviously a dark wizard.”
She had a point. Again.
“If I’m so obviously dark, then why do you spend time with me?”
Ginny gave him a half smile.
“Because I like you. Besides, you haven’t really killed or tortured anyone here yet, so I have nothing to hold against you even if I wanted to.”
He stared at the fourteen-year-old girl in astonishment. And to his surprise, he uttered.
“What do you suggest I do then?”
Ginny grinned.
“Have a sandwich. And then go see Professor Sinistra.”
(Author's Apologies)
On the topic of "fucking" in Black Speech.
Fucking is a present participle, and should therefor be translated as "Htolug". By example: kulat htolug, he is fucking. However, here "fucking" is used as an adjective, therefor I took the liberty of using the conjugation for adjectives, which would make it "Htolûrz". By example: Bolb htolûrz, a fucking disaster.
Once again, I'm not an expert, I'm only learning myself...
TRANSLATIONS:
Htol-za…”(Fuck that...)
“Brosh, Sauron. Mal latum?” (Hi Sauron, what's up?)
“Brus-izg push.”(I have a problem.)
“Garn…”(Go on...)
“Shra dushuzat-ishi.” (Someone cursed me.) (Literally "a person cursed me"
“Mirz?” (Who?)
“Sauron, thlûk ob za! Badz dagronk rad!” (Sauron, enough of this! Open the door now!)
=> Correct would be "ta-ob", instead of "ob ta" but we all know how much people in Middle-Earth like easy pronunciation. Besides, this is an "error" made by Tolkien's orcs all the time, so I suppose it's okay.
“Ginny, âdh-izish.” (Ginny, leave me.)
“Htolûrz" (Fucking)
“Tîr rad” (Right now)
“Awol hûr! Puzg fîgûz-lab!” (How dare you! Cease your insults!)
“Ukh kraat!” (Go away!)
"Flâgît lorz!” (Stupid idiot!)
