Chapter Text
Colorado is a cold state, don’t kid yourself. Denver isn’t called the Mile High City because everything else was taken. But the higher elevation and bitterly cold winters play havoc with an old man’s bones, tightening them painfully as the temperature slides into single digits then the negatives. The views were incredible if you had the money to pay for them, fortunately money wasn’t an issue for owner of Isenguard. The indigenous peoples called this area Orthanc or mountain of fangs. Rather appros for the man who was now in residence.
Another cold day in hell, Saruman thought as he snuggled deeper into the Sherpa lined comforter. The blazing fire in the large stone hearth warmed the room for a normal person but not for the aged man shivering as he remembered warmer days and hotter nights closer to the equator. But that was before.. a long time before he had started this path and found himself jailed in Boulder.
Mauhur shifted into the room with all the grace of hippo, his height and bulk making him lumber with the same deliberate slowness. He was serving as an assistant until Grima’s work was done in Texas but who knew when that would be. Mauhur was capable in a sluggishly annoying way, taking more time than Grima ever thought about to finish simple tasks. Even his smell could be offensive.
“What?” Saruman snapped, finally gaining a measure of warmth in his chilled frame.
“Sir, your guests have come.” Mauhur didn’t look at him but stared at the floor while he spoke. It was another habit that peeved the old man to no end.
“Fine! Make sure my Jacuzzi is heating.” Saruman groused as he pushed his blanket away. Smoothing down his cable knit over his thick winter white wool pants, he strode from his favorite sitting room.
Brushing his long while hair away from his face, Saruman walked into his study to take a seat behind the desk. Mauhur had known better to allow anyone into this room before him, his guests would be standing out in the foyer until they were summoned. Proprieties had to be observed when dealing with underlings else they began to have ideas far above their station. These two particular subordinates had been very insubordinate.
Saruman fought back a tired sigh as he noticed the stuffed hammerheads along one wall. Old Sharkey they had called him once in his glory years, one of the best hunters in the Caribbean. He had made trips down every spring, losing himself in the lazy feel of sex and adrenaline on those white sandy shores. He had loved too, the feel of the waves, the fight of the predators, savoring their eventual defeat. Long years ago, before the Istari Group, before S.A.U.R.O.N’s rising. Long times before it all. Angry at the turn of this maudlin thoughts, the old man growled at the well dressed couple who entered.
The man was the leader of the two, tall over six feet but still shorter than Old Sharkey. He was handsome in a classical way, good skin with a fit toned body layered in very expensive clothes. The product of good breeding but not inbreeding as well as a healthy childhood. A woman stood beside him but a step behind, as if she deferred to him but not by choice. She would be a problem if her expression was any indication. An overindulged beauty with the same thick dark hair and captivating hazel eyes as the man beside her. She dared to wear five inch heels in an icy city for no other reason so that the neither of them would have the advantage of height. Smart but still young with her head in the wrong place.
“Well?” Saruman grated as the servant brought tea. The couple looked at the service then at the chairs in expectation.
“I got the Durinson kid into Sigma as you requested. Sir.” The ‘sir’ was tacked on for token respect but the sneer was for not being allowed to take a chair before the desk.
“Yes, that and your money laundering have been the only things that you have done right. Do you have the reports?” This is going to take longer than I thought, the Saruman thought as the man handed him a flash drive. “Thank you. Now, explain yourself about the Sindarin brat. He is marrying your cousin but you are not satisfied with that?”
Aranel replied in frustration. “She has no interest in Sindarin companies or any of it. She just wants kids and helping other kids! That is why Runa would be a much better choice…”
“Yes, I would agree, if he was still self-medicating. But now that he is awake and on the wagon so to speak, Legolas would notice a young ambitious woman working deals behind the scenes. You brought your queen out too soon, Mr. Elven. Or too late as it were. But Runa, you should have been able to engage his interest nevertheless.”
“I have no excuse, sir. “ Runa bowed her head in false contrition but at least she tried. “As I understand it, since he took on a mentee, he has been most engaged.”
“A mentee? Who?” Saruman’s attention snapped to the computer screen with an eye wreathed in flames in the center of the monitor. It was alive.
“Gimli Durinson. It started just after the New Year.” Aranel sniffed in distain. “Honestly, I do not know why you wanted him in Sigma so badly. He barely makes the cut.”
“Erebor Ironworks has a new material that they are developing which will replace Titanium in about two years and possibly Kevlar. The company isn’t public so how do you take over a private company, Aranel?” Saruman quizzed the annoyingly pompous man as he began typing on the screen.
“The family.” He said with disgust, not seeing what the use of the Durinson was until now.
“Exactly. Get them young, train them right and they are yours for life. He’s eighteen. A very impressionable age, would have been a perfect inside man if our current operatives in New Hampshire happen to fail. But he shouldn’t be associating with Legolas that way, though. They are supposed to be at each other’s throats trying to kill each other. In turn it would have pushed Legolas into a position more easily to control.” Saruman stared at the green query responses as they lined the inky blackness in a mode that would remind any geek of MS/DOS. “Interesting.”
“What? What does Lord Sauron say?” Aranel walked forward to have a look at the monitor too but was stopped by the older man’s sharp gaze. A tall well built woman in leather walked into the room to take a seat on the sofa without an invitation.
“It seems this fail isn’t entirely your faults.” Saruman snorted at a pic of a very naked Gimli sucking a cock that he assumed was Legolas’ since S.A.U.R.O.N had lifted it from the Sindarin’s cellphone. “Runa, you will be needed in Seattle. The Swan family of Belefalas Shipping have two marriageable sons that you should make your next priority.”
Aranel started to speak only to cut off by an abrupt ‘Get the Fuck Out’ by a frustrated old man. The woman on the sofa gave Aranel a very toothy smile as he passed her very quickly. It seems Mr. Aranel Elven still feared her even now after all these years. Mauhur opened the door for them quietly. Runa smirked at her cousin as she began to turn but Saruman called her back.
“Runa. I would like you to service Mauhur with your mouth. You need a lesson in humility and performing fellatio to a servant is acceptable.” He almost laughed at her shocked look of outrage. “In the other room, Mauhur if you please.”
The great hulk of the man bowed low to his boss as he led them from the room. Aranel knew better than to say anything, having been on the receiving end of Grima and the new arrival several times due to his occasional disobedience. Get them young, train them early, Saruman thought as he smirked. At some point, there the two of them would have to advance or be discarded. Runa was more of a viable possibility for better assignments than Aranel who was lazy. They had been funneling money to him for three years with very lovely returns. But his hooker habit called unwanted attention and would at some point be a problem.
But Runa had a sparkling mind behind that beautiful face, worth every penny of their investment. Her time with Katya in Paris had been very productive despite Katya’s bitching about ‘that town’ as she called it. The Swan Family needed watching since they were branching into Europe now, impeding the Basque movement. A young girlfriend for one of the Imrahil’s boys would be perfect or a mistress for the married oldest son.
So many possibilities…..
“Did you enjoy that, my dear Yazna?” Saruman asked the reclining guest who had all of the poise of a coiled snake.
Standing six feet tall in her stockings, she had all of the heavy bone structure that had been promised to her younger brother but hadn’t quite made it. It was frightening how much like her father Azog she looked, right down to the pale skin and hair. Those eyes though, they had been what set her apart and made her unfortunately memorable to the all the wrong people. Like glittering diamonds, the iris were pale blue like her father’s but had the dark outer ring of her mother’s Turkish origins. Smaug had called Yazna his Turkish Delight during her early teen years when she belonged to him. Saruman didn’t really didn’t want to think about what that phrase had meant to the Red Dragon.
“I would have enjoyed dear Runa on her knees, licking my cunt. Maybe after she is finished with Mauhur?” The leer that played on her lips was cold, reminding Saruman of a pale grinning python just before it crushed its dinner.
The old man shook his head, he still called the shots for the time being. “No, she might consider it a reward to service you. I wanted her punished.” And in one piece, Saruman thought with disgruntled shake. Like her father, Yazna had vicious sexual tastes.
“Oh, I don’t know. I am sure I can make it seem as if it were a punishment.” Rubbing a hand up her leather clad thighs, the smirk never slipped as her mind wondered in its poisonous pursuits.
Leaning back in his chair, he sought to engage her in the present time. “I have a job for you. Grima sends word that Threodred is becoming a problem and needs taking care of within the next year. With the nephew graduating the Citadel and joining the Army, that will give Grima the extra time he needs to take hold of things in Texas.”
A gusting sigh emanated from the sofa as Yazna unfolded herself to stand before him. Soothing down the black leather vest, she gave him a sharp look as she towered over the large ornate desk. His head was already back on the seat, no dominance eye contact issue for him. Although, if Yazna felt challenged, she had no problem breaking someone in half just for the giggle factor.
“What is required?” The tone was bored but Saruman knew her better than that. She loved to kill, the longer the hunt the better.
“You will need dark hair and blue contacts. Blonds are a dime a dozen there, with your pale skin, dark hair will be a startling contrast. The plastic surgery has thinned down your jawline but you are curvy in the right areas.” Saruman continued to look over her body with a critical eye. “I think you could pass for an ingénue twenty four if you tone down the smile. Too much knowledge in that smile, my dear.”
She nodded her head to show she understood, the toothy grin back in place. Yazna was the scary thing that went bump in the night and bit you when you weren’t looking. Whatever she might have been before becoming Smaug’s bedmate at such a very tender age was dead and buried. She was a weapon that just needed a direction.
Gods help the people of Riddermark County, Texas.