He is so beautiful, I think, recalling the days of Annatar..before he became Sauron...the Destroyer..
They do not see him as I see him.
They only see the Eye, the threat, the End of Everything.
But I see other things.
I cast my trembling hand over the Palantir, and it rises to life like an eager lover, humbling me, dominating me…overtaking my mind.
In the Black Tongue I call to him, my beloved.
And he comes, in smoke and fire, my brother, my master, my lover.
“Sauron..Lord of the Earth…” I invoke him, love and terror in my heart.
They do not know you, my Lord, as I know you.
Annatar the Black rises out of the Void, his eye no longer a singular red flame but the true color…vivid living violet-fire…
In my shrouded and darkened prison of Orthanc, I await the inevitable.
“My Lord, I am yours.”
I see his face in the Seeing Stone, his hair flying in some unimaginable wind, his visage so unspeakably beautiful my breath catches in my throat.
And then he takes me, again, his phantom fingers caressing and leaving no space of my mind or body virgin to him…ghostly lips upon mine, and the silver image of him, that face- that face! So close to mine…
“Alcarin aratar…lisse aratar…” Glorious exalted, sweet exalted, I say to him, my fabled Voice spreading its wings in the too-hot room…
His ancient and unbearably blazing tongue penetrates my mouth, and I choke back a gasp of pain, even now desperate for him, my entire body arching up against him in total desire.
“Curumo…my brother..give yourself to me..”
Fire Maia, servant to Aule, as am I. Or was. Now I am only slave to the one I love.
( the Ring..)
Olórin could have been part of this.
He could have joined us, in love and power, and I would have gladly shared this with him.
But when I saw the look on his face, after my proposal- that hateful pity, the revulsion of the idea, his grief and fear for me…never once seeing what we could all have had…together – I knew it was no use.
The love will come now, with the attendant pain and violence, and my noises are harsh, strange, alarming, even to myself.
( the Ring, do not think of the Ring )
I wonder what the Uruk Hai and the Orcs are thinking. Perhaps they do not hear. They will not dare inquire.
I am glad Grima sleeps far below, as I would not want to explain, or even be asked.
There is no answer I can give.
It will be brutal, agonizing, excruciatingly pleasurable.
Ecstasy in Hell.
Such pain, I have no defense, no escape..and I would take none if it were before me.
I am a Master…and yet I am a slave…to Love.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.