I so rarely encounter disobedience in my servants, I’m afraid I may be of no use to you. Perhaps if you were more specific…?
“….. Well…..” he growled clearly attempting to force himself to calm down. “…. I have tried punishments for those who disobey and rewards for those who don’t, and yet they are still convinced that I am an unjust lord, and even those who are rewarded for their good work speak ill of me”
“Punishing disobedience and rewarding adherence has nothing to do with being just, dear brother. What, might I ask, are the policies you are failing to uphold with this disciplinarian method? I am simply bursting with curiosity,” he inquired smoothly.
He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm despite how obvious it was that his brother was toying with him. A favourite hobby of his it seemed. “…. My wraiths are displeased that Khamûl and I are being intimate – Believing that I am forcing myself onto him. Even before that, there have been ill words about me shared between them, calling me cruel and unfair. Adûnaphel requires gifts despite never doing her job properly and constantly being rude and unprofessional, Ji-Indur seems displeased with his choice to take the ring and is blaming his choice on me. There even seem to have been talks of assassination and I cannot trust any of them aside from Murazôr”
“Raising a fuss over another’s intimate relationships? Why, who would do such a thing?” His voice remained syrupy. “I can’t imagine anyone being so unfair to you, bastion of goodwill and honesty that you are. It’s not as though Khamûl is somehow contractually bound to obey your every command, thought, and desire, is he? It’s as if your servants think you to be some sort of fickle, demanding tyrant who holds sway over them with threat of vicious punishment, blackmail, torture, and control of their free will for hundreds of years… I simply can’t imagine what sort of grudge they could possibly hold against you.”
“As if you are any better, o Great Deciever – Lord and sir Abhorred” he hissed, pupils narrowing and eyes flashing. “Don’t you come here and play ‘holier-than-thou’ with me when you are guilty of the same crimes as I. We created the rings, offered them as gifts and they were accepted as such – Greedily and eagerly might I add. I grant them privileges and gifts whenever they do their job well! I only ever punish them when they are disrespectful or outright disobedient and treacherous! Murazôr suggests that I remove their free will entierly, and though it would be effective I am somewhat reluctant to so it still”
He sighed then, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “Think what you will brother, but I always ask Khamûl what it is he wants and ask permission before I ever do anything to him or with him. He claims he feels alive when he’s in my bed, and so I do not push him away. We cannot leave Barad-Dûr currently and I am reluctant to sleep with slaves – This alternative is far superior. He is… Sweet”
“To hell with holiness,” he snapped, gaze suddenly sharp and trained on his brother, all pretense gone. “If we laid the same traps and caught the same fowl, why are yours flying their coop? I do not accuse you of being less moral than I; I am accusing you of being ineffective.” His lip curled over his fangs.
“Your Witch is right. Either dispense with this absurd act of pretending you are worthy of your name, worthy of admiration– strip them of their free will entirely and use them like the pawns you made them to be, or else earn their loyalty, and complain no more of the unfairness of being called cruel by those whose love you have greatly abused.”
“Your Lord raised you to be a beast, and you treat your servants as beasts in return. If you truly wish to rectify this situation, you will listen to their claims and address their concerns, not merely toss treats from your table at whoever performs the best tricks. Loyalty and trust are the only means by which obedience is assured even when your eyes are elsewhere. Find what they want, what motivates them, offer them what they cannot get elsewhere, solve their problems, understand their fears– make them eager to please you.” This he nearly spat, looming close over his brother’s porcelain face.
“You have the most subtle, perfect tool for seeing into the hearts of men resting on your finger, and you are USING IT. LIKE. A. BLUDGEON.” The fist of his right hand smashed into the wall, shedding splinters of stone and rattling dust from the the firmament.
His mouth formed a silent ‘o’ as he took in the information, shaking his head with an expression both wry and sheepish. “I… should have guessed that,” he grinned in return. “The simplest explanation, and my mind flew clear over it. Of course such a unique child should have a stable of parents to raise her; Mahal preserve you if you try to do it alone.”
Mitsa’s laugh was delightful; a rounder, warmer sound than he was expecting from such a small frame. It distracted him enough that his giddy smile lasted up until there was a dapping punch pointed at his sternum.
“Woah! Easy friend,” he parried the rod away gently with the back of his hand, “I mean her no ill. Do you really think I’d harbor a vendetta against a child?” His brow furrowed pitifully over soulful, lupine eyes. “What threat do you imagine she poses? These days I am on passable terms with the sea folk, I’d do nothing to jeopardize that; and what is more, she considers me her godfather! I’m saddened you think I would harm a fledgling girl who entrusted me with her confidence.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed I am not the sea folk. Little Storm may be a child now, but she will grow with time. Threat or not will you make the same promises when she is older? That aside you have quite the… history, with her father. Forgive me for being cautious,” Mitsanár said sweetly. “I believe the phrase was ‘better safe than sorry.’” But he slowly lowered the rod and set it aside.
Turning his attention to the offered fluorite, he inspected a crystal curiously. It certainly looked clearer than his quartz, but as he hummed a few soft notes at it he found its song had a vastly different flavor. “Don’t call her harmless until you’ve tried one of her sandwiches,” he added as he shaded the crystal with both hands to better see its glow. Yes… he could work with this, with a few adjustments here…
He set to work fiddling with the clasps around his magnifying device, widening them for the new crystals and then testing the fit. Once everything was in place he tried looking through the lens and noted the improvements. He pulled away with a hum of appreciation and beckoned to Sauron.
“Would you care to have a look, since you’ve been so kind in assisting me?”
“I can’t fault you for being protective of your charge. She must be very precious to you.”
He tried no more to excuse himself; Mitsa knew ultimately where his loyalties lay, and there were no promises he could make for the extended future, should the girl grow and bar his path. He could only hope such a future would not be woven.
Mitsa’s humming stilled his thoughts, seeming to absorb all the noise of the forge until he could hear his own heart beating in his ears. The crystals glowed a greenish hue– easily correctable with a color filter, he thought. The light grew and did not fade, illuminating the stage where samples could be placed.
As he was offered the instrument he grinned broad and beaming. “I’d be delighted. Thank you,” he leaned close to the eyepiece.
“Well, it certainly glows,” he chuckled, “but there’s not much to see yet. I’ll fetch that steel in a moment, but first…” Sauron ducked his head and exhaled a warm puff of breath over the glass plate, fogging it. He touched the plate with one finger, brow knitting in concentration. He hadn’t attempted this trick in a long time– it was counter to his nature, or rather, a reversal of it. The ambient temperature dropped around the work station, though the bronze skin of his hand glowed and began to steam and drip. He watched until ice crystals began to form on the glass, then eagerly returned to the microscope lens, adjusting the focus.
“There we are. Some of Melkor’s fine work,” he purred, pleased with himself. “Look at that. Sixfold symmetry. Natural fractals. Beautiful.” He was almost loathe to look away, but the heat of the forge made short work of the ice and moisture.
I so rarely encounter disobedience in my servants, I’m afraid I may be of no use to you. Perhaps if you were more specific…?
“….. Well…..” he growled clearly attempting to force himself to calm down. “…. I have tried punishments for those who disobey and rewards for those who don’t, and yet they are still convinced that I am an unjust lord, and even those who are rewarded for their good work speak ill of me”
“Punishing disobedience and rewarding adherence has nothing to do with being just, dear brother. What, might I ask, are the policies you are failing to uphold with this disciplinarian method? I am simply bursting with curiosity,” he inquired smoothly.
He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm despite how obvious it was that his brother was toying with him. A favourite hobby of his it seemed. “…. My wraiths are displeased that Khamûl and I are being intimate – Believing that I am forcing myself onto him. Even before that, there have been ill words about me shared between them, calling me cruel and unfair. Adûnaphel requires gifts despite never doing her job properly and constantly being rude and unprofessional, Ji-Indur seems displeased with his choice to take the ring and is blaming his choice on me. There even seem to have been talks of assassination and I cannot trust any of them aside from Murazôr”
“Raising a fuss over another’s intimate relationships? Why, who would do such a thing?” His voice remained syrupy. “I can’t imagine anyone being so unfair to you, bastion of goodwill and honesty that you are. It’s not as though Khamûl is somehow contractually bound to obey your every command, thought, and desire, is he? It’s as if your servants think you to be some sort of fickle, demanding tyrant who holds sway over them with threat of vicious punishment, blackmail, torture, and control of their free will for hundreds of years… I simply can’t imagine what sort of grudge they could possibly hold against you.”
Spent the last two days working on this little archery guide in art and writing. Considering the rise in popularity of archers in pop culture this hopefully comes in handy for a bunch of fandoms.
“Pounded In the Ass By My Mythological Doppleganger’s Ass While He Is Pounded In The Ass By My Own Fanfic “Pounded In The Ass By Mine Own Magical Jewels”“
There are many ways to craft rings (for those of you who can’t shape metal with your mind)!
One simple method is simply to drill a hole in an appropriately sized disc of metal, and mill it out on a lathe until it fits the desired proportions. A bit crude, not much room for artistry, but effective.
Another popular method is to hammer out a strip of metal (yes, for this step and this step only, one might see a smith bent over the anvil with a flatter) and coax it around a die until the ends meet and can be welded together. Welded rings can be very elaborate, set with stones, cut into lovely shapes, but depending on the strength of the bond and the delicacy of the materials, one might sacrifice durability.
And then there is my favorite and arguably the best method: metal casting! First one carves a model of one’s ring out of wax, making sure to leave in spurs as conduits for the wax to flow out of the mold and the metal to flow in. Then one encases the wax ring in molding material, secure within a mother-mold. Heating the mold burns out the wax, leaving a hollow inside mold in the shape of your ring. Then it is only a matter of pouring in the desired metals, letting them cool, and then completing the project by sawing off the spurs, filing down the metal, and adding whatever embellishments the design requires.
Naturally, one finished any fired piece by giving it a good pickling in acid and a high polish! Then you teach your friends the process, adding in a pinch of blood magic and sorcery, and murder them when they use your techniques to thwart your plans!
*cough*
In any case, none of the methods above will look like this:
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 