New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
A speculative look at Sauron during the time of this tale with a deal of contrivance on my part.
Some seven years before Húrin’s torment began in Angband there was cause for great hope in Beleriand: for as is well known and has been elsewhere told, Lúthien and Huan, the Hound of Valinor, defeated Sauron on the Bridge of Tol-in-Gaurhoth which in turn led to the rescue of Beren and the completion of the Quest of the Silmaril. It was reported after his humiliation that Sauron, the cruel vassal of Morgoth, fled from his tower and that nothing was heard of him for at least three years; save for the rumours of horror that came out of the dark forest, Taur-nu-Fuin, whither it is said he flew. However, there are a few speculative accounts out of Angband (from which this one is derived) that speak of the Judgement of Morgoth upon Sauron after the rape of his crown by Beren and Lúthien.
Now, it is generally understood in Angband that no report reached Morgoth regarding the events of the Bridge of Tol-in-Gaurhoth for a long time, and aught that came in was filtered piecemeal through indirect channels. It is certain however that Sauron did not show his face in Angband after his failure; neither to attend any mandatory appraisal of the state of the northern war, nor otherwise to meet with or counsel his lord. In those days there were many who dubbed him a craven, or worse a traitor; which in latter days proved ill for Sauron, hindering his own rise to prominence after much else befell his master: which is not told here! At length however, it became apparent that Morgoth grew ever the more slighted by each snub of Sauron, and with mounting outrage he began to believe any scrap of unvetted news that trickled like ice-water in his ear, provoking a shudder and a scowl. For of all his captains Morgoth valued Sauron and Gothmog in equal measure for their qualities of cunning and strength; but Sauron he had loved more, who of old forsook Aulë the Smith (the Dark Lord’s closest rival in skill) and pledged allegiance to him. For this treachery Morgoth gave Sauron the greatest degree of autonomy afforded to any of his servants, but not total independence; but Gothmog, being mightier than Sauron, was his High-captain and subject to the military chain of command. Nevertheless, in nothing was Morgoth’s appreciation for Sauron expressed more highly than in the gifting of the chair upon which Húrin now sat; for it was from this seat that he imbued deep knowledge and high art to Sauron, and this more efficiently by means of the transference of his thought and the power of his words. He created it for him upon his return from Valinor, in token of the commendable stewarding of Angband; and it is said that in this endeavour Morgoth gained much insight from the stolen jewels in his crown, for they still conveyed much of the vigour of their maker and the integrity of the Undying Lands, ere they sickened in the dark presence of prolonged wickedness.
Hitherto there came a critical juncture when Morgoth could no longer refute Sauron’s failure to acknowledge him, hence on the third anniversary of the loss of the Silmaril he put out a general proclamation commanding his delinquent vassal to report to Angband within seven days. Therefore Sauron came! Morgoth was unwilling to countenance him as yet, thus he sat confined in isolation until his lord should summon him. His quarters were more comfortable than most and he lacked not for nourishment but he was not allowed anything by way of a diversion and his days of incarceration seemed overly long. Morgoth did not remain idle during Sauron’s term of penitence for these were the days of the Union of Maedhros and many budding plans came to fruition. The Dark Lord had much cause for joy given that the greater part of the preparations of his enemies were known to him and much went according to his design. This was the blossoming of his prime moment but he had nobody to share his success with, and in this aspect only was his assurance injured and pleasure marred; for all the way throughout this interval he would have exploited Sauron’s counsel and savoured his flattery; in the final analysis knowing that with his resourceful participation the victory could have been complete.
What then of Morgoth’s judgement?
As the fateful day of midsummer approached in the Year of Lamentation, and with all his schemes set in place, Morgoth’s thought turned again to Sauron; for with increasing contradiction he wanted to boast without seeming to court approval, whilst at the same time asserting his accustomed confident dominance as events played out. Accordingly, on the eve of battle two burly orcs entered Sauron’s cell to install a large Orb set atop a barbed iron stand. Now the prisoner had never before any occasion to use such a device as this, being himself a former fiduciary of his lord; and he deliberated long on how to initiate it. However this proved fruitless since it was merely a peripheral unit and wholly subject to Morgoth’s master Orb; thus the secondary works only when the primary is active, screening only what the greater receives. In this way Sauron remotely witnessed the events of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad in concurrent time with his lord, though they were in different places; and he marvelled at this ingenuity, fearing it too! At the last he watched completely gripped as the final stand of Húrin played out before him, whom in his heart he applauded when all was concluded; and with the darkening of the Orb he sat emotionally drained and stunned, pondering the epic events and their ramifications. The following day two grim attendants arrive at his cell door.
Whenever Morgoth sat in attendance none were permitted within the great chamber save by his command; not even a stray sound dared enter: naught of labour, neither of mockery, nor of anguish; only silence, a cold and angry presence; hanging in the air almost as solid block ready to crash which few could endure. The immense granite throne rose beyond sight into the lofty roof space and its heavy occupant remained motionless therein; ironclad shapes and great spikes seemed to grow out from both sides and all the way up the back of that seat of power. The left side of Morgoth shone red amid the black for beside him stood Gothmog whose powerful hand held a tightened chain that attached to the collar upon a man bound and kneeling before him; Húrin Thalion was he, the son of Galdor, whom for good reason they named The Steadfast. For it was he that stood last against Angband in the deciding battle at the Fen of Serech; whom even now had just faced the probing eyes of Morgoth and had withstood him, who never broke his oath not to betray aught he knew of the location of King Turgon, whom Morgoth most hated! Húrin’s defiance was aided by the remembrance of his grief when he cried out towards the north after the death of his infant daughter, saying: *“Marrer of Middle-earth, would that I might see you face to face, and mar you as my lord Fingolfin did!” moreover, the sight of only two Silmarils in that crown betrayed a shame that Morgoth could not hide.
As though reading Húrin’s last thought, Morgoth exhaled loudly and called out, deep and slow: "Sauron, come forth!" Húrin heard steady footsteps advance ere the chamber door creaked slowly open and in swept Sauron bedecked in pliable dress armour and silk: not at all terrible but tall, resplendent and beautiful as he strode to meet his lord.
"My Lord!" said Sauron bowing low before Morgoth.
"Do not seek to flatter me with fair seeming!" said Morgoth, "See thou at my feet a whelp on a leash? I find it to be a poor replacement for the one that THOU lost me!" Sauron shuddered but remained silent; Morgoth continued: "Since that day my crown lacks a third of its light and you remain unseated awaiting my judgement!"
"And so I do, My Lord, with a full heart", ventured Sauron.
"SILENCE CUR, I HAVE NOT FINISHED SPEAKING!!!" spat Morgoth, who when he regained his composure went on: "Let the greater give up his seat for the lesser; for thou, Sauron, are henceforth stripped of office and are hereby banished from my sight. Thou spurned my mercy even before it was offered, therefore receive it now: Go back to your dark forest and tend to your Mongrels if you will, otherwise fly east! Whichever way you choose my Mighty Gothmog shall provide you with an Orb ere you depart, I am confident that you’ll master its function for it is unlike to the one you had previously; therefore I demand regular weekly reports of your doings; for neither I do not now, nor never shall I release you from my service! In solitude, thou shall await my commands! Take this time to learn obeisance and in the end we shall learn where your loyalty lies: this is my judgement, get thee gone!" and with that Sauron turned and left the chamber; and so it happened that never again did he look directly upon the face of his sovereign.
Now, as has been told, Morgoth informed Húrin during the first year of his imprisonment that is son had fled from Dor-lómin, moreover he was informed of the place where the boy was last seen; but naught thereafter was learnt of the ways that Túrin went. This news had always given Húrin hope for that last known location led to either Brethil or Doriath, both of which being the positions he and Morwen discussed ere they parted; accordingly Húrin felt certain that his son would be safe in either place. Some nine years after his captivity began it became apparent to her husband that Morwen had chosen as her own instinct demanded: for it so happened that the ongoing tensions between Morgoth’s miners and the Marchwardens of Doriath escalated until full scale battle ensued in earnest, becoming ever the more protracted. Thus it that Húrin saw one in that arena arrayed in the Dragon Helm of Dor-lómin fighting alongside the Elves of Doriath, in a manner obviously taught by them; this could have been none other than his son for that token was the heirloom of Hador's House and no Easterling would have claimed it to fight alongside those they feared. Although Húrin prized this treasure as the greatest of the riches of his line he was never apt to wear the helm in battle himself because of the dwarven mask it incorporated which he disliked upon his face; but now he beheld in wonder at how well it suited his son of seventeen years, likewise he marvelled at Túrin’s stature and how he fought as a mighty man of legend, and the father’s heart of Húrin swelled within him.
For three glorious years he longed to look upon his son's face but he only ever saw him as dressed for war. However, he was heartened by the constant presence of Beleg Cúthalion (the Strongbow) at Túrin's side in battle, this impressive elf is King Thingol's Chief Marchwarden and a famed warrior amongst Elves and Men; whom together with the Heir of Dor-lómin slew many foes in battle, the same who after the healing of his wounds seemed to come back stronger and ever the more grow in prowess. Húrin perceived the potent bond between the two and despite himself he always let this sting his heart; not because he begrudged Beleg, nay indeed he thanked him often from afar for his guardianship of Túrin, but indeed because he was robbed of his son. During this time Húrin’s hatred of Morgoth knew no bounds. There came a day of summer when Túrin did not rejoin the fray, this seemed odd for he was seldom gone for more than a day, and when at length Beleg returned alone Húrin feared the worst. Still, Beleg gave no visible indication that one he cared for had died, nor was there any battle ritual enacted to honour him in death such as the elves were wont to give, with this being the only flicker of hope Húrin had in that time: "Nevertheless my son is no elf!" he thought coldly. So Túrin was gone and soon afterwards Beleg himself would not return to the northern wars; thus Hurin's concern deepened, for he knew not if he would see his son again.
Two winters passed with neither sight nor sound of them and in the months following the departure of ‘The Bow and Helm' the war went ill for Thingol; the elven forces withdrew from the battlegrounds of Dimbar with only the power of Melian remaining to protect Doriath. However this was of little concern to Morgoth who now, being emboldened by the forays against Thingol, turned a greedy eye southward and at length abandoned his plans to root out the Mithrim Elves; but ere all the thralls could be returned to Angband there were some that turned on their slave-drivers with crude handmade weapons and escaped into the blackened forests of Dorthonion. After the Fall of Dimbar Hurin's gaze drew again towards his homelands, and ever and anon his eyes lit upon the sad pretty girl who even now still distributed aid from the Lady Aerin, and his heart drew ever toward her for reasons he didn’t fully understand. At this time many of the younger boys who suffered the first Easterling invasion were coming into pre-adolescence but their lost father’s former lands were overrun and reinforced all about them ere they could grow resentful and unbowed; for the greater part of these child thralls became spiritually broken, mentally bound and physically chained: "How difficult it is to see these young flowers strangled by lesser weeds!" said Húrin bitterly. He looked to other places also, always with the faint hope of hearing news of Túrin; by now he supposed that Morgoth’s grip on the northern plains had become total and abandoned any hope of secrecy in his searching of the Orb. In those days the dwindling homesteads of men round about the woodlands south of Teiglin suffered forays of ever emboldened orcs and sporadic raids by ragged houseless men, being desperate outlaws and deserters for the most part; these latter acted so indiscriminately that they could hardly be counted as being against the enemy, indeed they were so self-minded that they often preyed on their own kind and Morgoth was content to leave this destructive element to themselves. At length however, their attacks became ever the more targeted against the outliers of Angband’s expanding dominion but because of their earlier evil deeds they remained unwanted by the folk that still dwelt in those parts, believing them to be still nuisances to whom they offered no support or nurture. There was one among them who became increasingly well known by name, and due to the ever more obvious change in tack he was perceived as their new chieftain; though Húrin knew not that this was his self-exiled son Túrin, who operated in that time under the assumed name of Neithan, the Wronged!
Seasons passed by with nothing of note occurring in the Orbs, until there came a day when absolutely nothing happened in one of them; this was Sauron's charge and it was veiled. Húrin had often witnessed the doings of that lord since the day of his banishment, but for the dread of his gaze he dared not tarry overlong to watch him in depth; yet at this novel instance he wondered much, saying: "What new evil has Morgoth got planned, or could it be that the ‘Wolf-keeper' has struck out on his own?"
The irregularity and boldness of this moment provoked strange thoughts in Húrin and his mind turned to the orc-children’s mockery of him and a long forgotten mention of Sauron’s not being allowed to attend Morgoth’s Day of Debauchery; and remembering the Dark Lord’s last instructions to Sauron in Angband, a sudden and dreadful thought struck Húrin as he recollected the setting out of Voronwë and the events of that day: "Was it you, Sauron, who followed them down Sirion?" he said, "You were the only one of consequence not at Angband that day; I should have known it was a conjurer's trick to trap the unwary!" He hastily reviews Morgoth's recent actions, saying: "I guess near, for Morgoth assails Cirdan not but strives to find him by catching roving elves! Could it be Sauron, you now wish to regain the favour of your master by clearing the way south for him? Ha, but Morgoth has strength enough of his own for that: Sauron, dare you attempt to conceal information from Morgoth? Is that even possible? What is it you want?"
Ever and anon the doubt of these questions gnawed at Húrin, but each time his suspicions stirred they were countered by the long remembered words of Cirdan: “…all is safe!” Moreover, he sensed no contrary presence with the Orb that day; neither did any other contest with him for mastery in any way; nor was the power that moved the Sirion Orb a domineering one. However it would not be long ere Húrin viewed Sauron again!
There came an evening early in springtime when Morgoth sent out a great host from Angband that passed down the Pass of Sirion. His former lieutenant noted their coming early on and contrived to make his self noticed; therefore he stood brazenly in the midst of a hastily built torch-lit pergola on foothills of the northern slopes of Taur-nu-Fuin and watched them go forth. Húrin noticed how impersonal he seemed and how he neither displayed no sigil nor made any gesture of allegiance to the Orb carrying captain that brought up the rear; and Húrin said aloud: "You are a bold one, Gorthaur, but today I see your true face and I perceive your trickery!" The orc captain unintentionally overheard Húrin’s words in the Orb and looked steely into Sauron's eyes whereupon neither one withdrew their gaze until the company passed by; afterwards the orc looked into his Orb to pick up on the source of those words but Húrin had already diverted his sight elsewhere. Although these orcs came in large numbers this was but a preliminary force that set up camp in sight of the lonely mound of Amon Rûdh, under the eaves of Brethil.
That great hill stood between the vales of Sirion and Narog about the Guarded Plain; here no orc came as yet and they were unfamiliar with the ways of the moorlands about the tor. The stony peak had many clefts (with hidden ways inside) with little plant life about it; save for some thickets at its foothills and the fiery red seregon that blazed upon its flat roof in the sunshine. In the previous year Túrin and his band of outlaws settled in Amon Rûdh and it was said that they stayed there as the guest of a Petty-dwarf; but afterwards it was learned that they remained perforce in ransom of the lives of the dwarf and his son. Beleg Strongbow came also to that place during the preceding winter after long searching in the wilderness for Túrin; and so it was that the rumour of ‘The Bow and Helm' spread quickly across those lands and many men were drawn to them. Several orcs were routed from their encampments and they quailed at the approach of the Two Captains. In order to keep secret from the enemy that the captains were stationed at Amon Rûdh, many guarded settlements were established in the overwhelmed orc camps; and in those days the Red Hill stood as a flaming beacon of hope to all free folk beset by Angband. During this time no aid came from the Elves of Nargothrond for that place was still unknown to Morgoth and his plan to draw them out was foiled. Despite this the men of this land found new valour and achieved many victories against the groping hand of Morgoth, and by the summer the orcs were forced back; all of this was witnessed by Húrin and his heart was high within him.
Morgoth leant awkwardly over the right arm of his throne considering the stricken dais whence he ripped away Sauron's seat and he pondered now what action to take regarding his once most effective devotee. He mused over the veiling of the Orb and Sauron's cool defiance at the passing of the orcs. It bothered him that Sauron had an undisclosed plan but did not wish to appear uneasy in front of his captains again, as he did after his last words with Húrin; however, he wanted to voice his concerns! Therefore his thought turned toward Glaurung, the father of dragons; for here was a creature bred of his own wickedness which most resembled him in mind. Therefore Morgoth arose and descended into the smouldering caves wherein slept the Uruloki, the fire serpents of the old world, and none save Morgoth dared to wake them lest they be consumed by wrathful flames.
"Awake, Glaurung!" calls Morgoth, "Your master commands you!"
The golden armour of the Great Worm shines in the ruddy half-light of that subterranean grot as it stirs from a heavy slumber. The fell creature stretches, expanding to an enormous length, and expels a hissing draught of steam from his nostrils ere greeting his commander with a thin smile. "Yes, My Lord!" says Glaurung.
"Walk with me!" directs Morgoth and they make their way back in silence to the cooler throne room; Morgoth sits enthroned whilst the dragon curls himself about his feet.
At length Glaurung speaks: "How may I comfort you my master, for I perceive that a heavy burden troubles your brow".
"If it was comfort I required, Glaurung, then I would have taken a different path long ago" says Morgoth, "Nay my friend, my need is far more fundamental than that! I created thee from my basest self and it is from that source that I need counsel now".
The dragon's eyes widen as he enquires: "How so?"
Morgoth tells Glaurung regarding his banishment of Sauron and the use of his chair to imprison Húrin, of his later dealings with Húrin and of Sauron's recent actions. "I am in doubt," says he, "I have allowed my forces to be pushed back but this has not yielded any of my true enemies, I deem that the deeds of the son of the mortal overhead give the father pleasure that I begrudge him and Sauron seems to openly defy me in front of my captains. What should be done?"
"Nothing!" says Glaurung with a pause and since Morgoth doesn’t respond he continues: "Petty victories and pleasure are short lived and they only embolden a foolish heart. Let the mortals have their time in the sun for I deem that winter bites them much harder. And if the elves wish to cower and hide then I say let them, for if they will not oppose you then how can they stop you? As for Sauron, all I can offer is that you know him best; but it seems to me he is telling you indirectly, since you will not countenance him, that he wants your attention. Sauron is cunning but he is no fool, my master, I believe from what you have told me that he wants to win back your favour. However, since he has veiled his plans I cannot guess how; I would say this though, it does no good to vex the mind with what it cannot fathom because this only clouds the judgement!"
"Would Sauron move against me?" asks Morgoth.
The dragon shakes his head saying: "He cannot and he dare not! My Lord, I do not believe that Sauron is your problem, or even some irksome elves. I apologise ahead of time if I speak out of turn, but I feel that you want me to say this; you have allowed the words of a bass-born mortal to infect your mind! Allow me, lord, to rid you of this parasite with a blast of fire or let him see his home and loved ones go up in flames!"
"NO!" blasts Morgoth, "That would be too simple!” and as the dragon bows submissively Morgoth speaks again: “Pick up your head Glaurung, in one thing you are right, I have heeded the echo of Húrin’s words too long and indeed I shall release you on him, but not yet; however, he will be consumed by his own fire and not yours!”
The dragon nods as one understanding a secret code: “Will it work on a mortal?” says he.
“We shall see!” says Morgoth.
“And of Sauron?” enquires Glaurung.
“I shall leave Sauron to his own devices for now, though I trust him little!” reasons Morgoth, “I hope he realises what an ally he has in you!” and they both sigh ruefully.
“And the elves?” adds the dragon.
“You’re trying my patience as do they!” says Morgoth half smiling; “You’ve counselled me well today Glaurung, therefore go now to your rest but have a care and sleep with one eye open for I shall call on you at need, and that may be soon as dreamers deem it!"
"By your will, My Lord!" says the dragon ere he crawls back to his pit.
*Taken from The Children of Húrin