liketotessecret:

For peggaboo. Sorry I wasn’t around on your actual birthday. Hope you enjoy it even though it’s late ❤

–

You.

The Orc yelped and scrambled to a crooked-back attention.

“Yes, my lord- I mean your majesty- I mean your evilness-“

Silence.

The Orc yelped again and subsided, muttering frantically to itself.

Concealed within his helmet, Sauron rolled his eyes.

Find someone who knows how to bake, vermin.

The Orc gibbered.

“Bake vermin, Master? Most of us can char rats and such, not sure if any of ‘em can bake ‘em…”

No, you are the vermin. Find someone who can bake pastries.

The Orc froze.

“Er… pastries, your wickedness?”

Yes, pastries, you fool. Composed of flour and sugar and baked. Pastries.

“Forgive me for asking, but… why, your…” the Orc paused and struggled to come up with something it had not yet said. Sauron rolled his eyes so hard it was nearly painful.

It is no business of yours, mortal. Find a Man if you must. Anyone who can bake a cake.

“A cake, Sire?”

I am not a king, you imbecile. Just… ‘my lord’ will do, just find me a cake.

“Yes, Master, of course, Master.”

It hurried out the door, gibbering to itself. Sauron shut the door firmly behind it, leaning heavily on the wood. He took off his helmet and tossed it across the room, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I am completely and utterly surrounded by half-wits.” Then he paused and chortled to himself. “But I shall have cake on my name-day, and that is all that matters.”