5. Chapter Five
Something was tickling his face. Legolas turned his head away into the pillow, but the feeling followed him. Sighing, he opened his eyes to find Maglor looking down at him, a slight smile on his lips. He was half-sat up in the bed, his weight resting on one elbow. The elf’s auburn hair was dangling down, brushing against his face, and he swatted at it playfully in mock annoyance. Maglor laughed, and Legolas thought he would be happy if that was the first sound he heard every day.
“I thought you’d never wake up,” he teased, sinking down onto the bed beside Legolas and taking him into his arms. They lie together for a few moments, welcoming each other. No need to speak, or really to touch, but it happened anyway. As before it happened without announcing itself. And it didn’t matter how much time had passed for them to be in the position of lovers. Minutes or centuries, it could have been either. Hands moving slowly over muscle and soft skin, lips tasting and teasing each other. Their sighs mingled together, and the sound was as perfect as they were.
Everything about their lovemaking was different. There was no ultimate purpose in either of their minds. What happened, happened slowly, and as a natural progression of events. Legolas found himself teasing the other elf’s nipples with his teeth just to listen to the sounds that Maglor made. He found himself enjoying the reactions of Maglor’s body, the way he arched into Legolas’ touch, the way he laughed and shivered when he was tickled.
And he was not alone. Maglor teased and sweetly tormented him in the same way. They were lost in the sight and the sound of each other, discovering all that could be discovered. Learning the secret places each of them possessed that could reduce them to nothing but sensation and pure pleasure.
There was no ownership in their caresses, no struggle for dominance. Each gave as much as they received; each loved with an undemanding desire that didn’t know the meaning of possession or control. So easy to fall into the magic, so easy to be themselves. If their lovemaking was a little coldly aesthetic, then what did that matter? They were in agreement, and Legolas found himself carried away on a dream, forgetting everything but the way Maglor sighed when he brushed his lips over the soft skin on the inside of his thighs just there. The way he shivered when he ran his tongue over the hardened shaft between his legs, and the way he moaned when Legolas took him into his mouth.
Maglor’s hands held his hair as he moaned an affirmative and rocked up into Legolas’ mouth, and that was when he remembered where he was, and what he was doing.
The magic ended, and Legolas released Maglor abruptly, getting up to sit on the side of the bed with his head in his hands. What was he doing? He remembered Sauron’s threat and suddenly felt guilty for the danger he had put Maglor in. And so when Maglor reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, Legolas couldn’t help but flinch away. He sat by the side of him, and it was impossible to mistake the hurt confusion that flashed in his eyes at Legolas’ reaction.
“I’m sorry. It’s just, I…” Legolas shrugged and let his head fall into his hands again.
“Shh. It’s all right pen neth. I think I understand.” And then he felt Maglor’s arms closing around him, promising nothing but everything. It was too tempting, and before he could lose himself again, Legolas drew away violently. He looked into Maglor’s eyes, willing him to understand.
“I can’t be with you like this, you don’t know…” Legolas didn’t know how to explain what had happened to him, or even how to tell Maglor about Sauron’s threat. He sighed desperately.
“He will kill you if I do,” Legolas burst out in misery at Maglor’s questioning glance. He looked away, and he was surprised when he heard the fair elf’s laughter. Those arms wrapped around him again and Maglor sighed.
“He won’t kill me, pen neth, be assured of that, for I have begged him long enough.” He smiled strangely at that. “And whatever he does do, it will be no worse than what I already endure at his hands.”
Legolas looked at Maglor, and he reached out to touch him, wanting to take the elf’s resigned sadness away, but more than that wanting to believe he could have this. “Legolas, I know him,” Maglor continued convincingly. “He has left us here, and he knows exactly what will happen. Probably he has some plan to use it against us in a game of his choosing. But we are alone now, and I would gladly pay the price, whatever it may be, for being with you.” For a long moment they looked at each other in perfect understanding.
Maglor’s smile broke the mood, brought them back to where they were, and he stood up.
“We should have breakfast.”
Later, after they had eaten and washed, Legolas relaxed against Maglor. The older elf was playing with his hair in a way that made delicious tingles run up and down his spine. He sighed dreamily, while Maglor told him stories of the First Age, sang songs that he knew, and songs that he didn’t. He closed his eyes as Maglor talked soothingly, weaving elaborate braids into his hair, and he could have sworn he was sitting in sunlight at the side of an open window.
At Maglor’s encouragement Legolas told him about the Greenwood, and how it had come to be feared lately by outsiders. He spoke of his father and his brothers, and the escapades they had got up to both as elflings and, more recently, young warriors in training. He made Maglor laugh, and that made him smile. For this one morning Legolas forgot where he was, and perhaps Maglor did too.
As before, Legolas couldn’t have said when their talking ceased and their touches became those of lovers. This time he didn’t hold back, and there were no qualms in his mind when they lie down together. When Maglor finally took him, it was so slowly and with such tenderness that there was no pain. To be this close was a beautiful counterpoint to all he had endured, and they moved together in perfect unison.
Lost in the sensations, he was aware of the exact moment that Maglor became still inside him. Legolas stiffened. There was only one reason Maglor would have stopped, and he whispered it into Legolas’ ear quietly in a way that made a cold shiver travel the length of his spine; “Herdir.”
Keeping his eyes closed, Legolas tried to listen for where Sauron was, but he heard nothing. Suddenly a hand cupped his face, and he refused to open his eyes, not wanting to see. Fear coursed through his veins as he remembered Sauron’s threat the day before.
“I reminded you of my rules, didn’t I, Prince?” Sauron asked him, cold amusement in his voice. Legolas trembled and the dark lord waited for an answer to his question.
“Yes,” Legolas whispered, trying to tell himself that if he didn’t look it wouldn’t really be happening. The hand began to caress his face, and when Sauron spoke his voice was low and threatening.
“Perhaps you didn’t want this,” he considered. “That’s the only reason I can think of for you being here, in his arms.” Legolas couldn’t help opening his eyes then, and he caught his breath when he saw Sauron so close to him, kneeling at the side of the bed. He never quite remembered how desirable Sauron was. His eyes drank in the sight of the dark lord greedily, until Legolas was only aware of him, and it seemed that he must be reaching out to touch him. All he wanted was to bury his face in Sauron’s hair, to breathe in the scent of him. And suddenly he was sure he was there, enfolded in the warm darkness and forgetting his own name. Sauron smiled, and instantly the spell was broken. Legolas was surprised to find he hadn’t moved, and that he hadn’t been in Sauron’s embrace. He looked at the dark lord in confusion, but he spoke to Maglor next.
“Well? Carry on, Maglor. I want to watch the truth in his eyes,” Legolas knew that Sauron was playing a game with him, and he knew it was one he couldn’t win, but he knew he would try anyway.
Maglor moved again, but this time he was not gentle. It was as if he was trying to aid Legolas, and he cried out as he felt Maglor taking him with violence. Sauron looked into his eyes with amusement, fully aware that this was not how it had been before.
“Do you want this, Legolas?” he asked, and then Legolas knew despair. Sauron made it clear that however he answered, Maglor would be punished. He moaned instead, partly from the sudden pain, and because he was frustrated from the no-win situation he was in. He tried to look away from the delight in Sauron’s eyes, but the hand wouldn’t let him go.
“Please,” he almost shouted, wanting an escape, needing to be given one. Sauron looked at him for a moment, and then he smirked.
“Well, we are in a mess here, aren’t we?” Sauron said, enjoying Legolas’ distress. “But perhaps there is a way out of this for you,” Legolas already knew he would do anything, there was no question. Sauron’s gaze turned crafty, and he ran a hand through Legolas’ hair thoughtfully.
“Do you think you could make me forget what I’ve seen here?” Legolas thought frantically. What could he mean? And then he knew, and it wasn’t so difficult, was it? He already dreamed of it, and he had done it once before…
Sauron sighed impatiently and began to get up, but then Legolas reached out and pulled him closer. He willingly kissed the dark lord, initiating the kiss, with his arms around Sauron’s neck. He felt Sauron smile beneath his lips, letting Legolas control the kiss, deliberately holding back. When it was over Sauron licked his lips and laughed softly, signalling Maglor to stop. Legolas moaned in regret when Maglor pulled out of him. Despite the way the situation had altered, he still wanted Maglor’s closeness, and he couldn’t hide it.
“Very nice, Prince. But, you know it’s going to take much more than that to make me forget such a transgression.” So saying he pulled Legolas from the bed and to his feet so that they were stood facing each other.
Reaching out nervously, Legolas moved closer to kiss Sauron again, only to have him laugh and push him back. Sauron took Legolas’ hands and moved them to rest on the ties that held his robes together in a silent command.
Dropping his gaze, Legolas began to undo them. As he did so the breathless feeling of being close to the dark lord took hold of him again, and by the time he had unlaced the leather laces of the robes his hands were shaking. He drew apart the folds of material reverentially and pushed them down the dark lord’s arms. There was a moment when the material had gathered around Sauron’s wrists, and Legolas couldn’t help pausing there to look into his eyes.
Hands closed tightly around his arms and Legolas took a sudden deep breath. They were stood so close together that Legolas’ nipples brushed against Sauron’s chest. His skin seemed to burn with a fire that Legolas’ body recognised, and he felt himself responding to the nearness, unable to look away from those dark eyes. Sauron let go of his arms and reached around him, brushing the back of one hand down the length of his back, and Legolas shivered. He was aware of everything. That same electricity in the feel of his fingertips, the cool contrast of his fingernails. So different to what he shared with Maglor. He unconsciously moved closer, pressing himself against Sauron as if in invitation.
One of the dark lord’s hands stayed on the small of his back, supporting him, while the other moved too quickly in front of his face, the palm towards him. Legolas instinctively turned his face away to avoid being hit, closing his eyes, and he didn’t realise he had exposed the long line of his neck until Sauron’s lips were upon him.
He moaned, and it changed to a startled cry when he felt Sauron impossibly biting into his neck; piercing his skin, and making the blood flow. He felt the pain, and on some level he was dimly aware that it shouldn’t feel good, but it did. Sauron didn’t just drink of his blood. He pulled at Legolas’ soul, drew upon his essence and immortality in a rhythmic way that was at the same time soothing and sexual. It was a truth he knew he didn’t really understand, yet. He eagerly exposed more of the sensitive skin to Sauron’s lips and teeth. He wanted to die like this, and he knew that he could if it didn’t stop.
Through the dreamlike sensations he heard Maglor whimpering in terror on the bed behind him, and he could feel that Sauron had changed in some fundamental way. Heat had turned to cold, and there was something different about the feel of the hands on him. Sauron’s grip was claw-like now. What was this? He almost knew what it was; he tried to remember, and then at once the word was on fire in his mind, demanding to be seen and recognised. He kept his eyes tightly closed, but his mind furnished him with a startlingly clear vision regardless. He saw himself, held in the grip of some giant, white, loathsome insect. He didn’t even want to see the shadow of it. It was monstrous, it was against nature, it was everything he wasn’t, and he should be panicking – but he couldn’t care.
“Don’t stop.” He didn’t know if he spoke aloud or if he merely thought the words, but he knew Sauron heard them nevertheless. His dark laughter filled Legolas’ mind like a caress, and through the haze of his thoughts he caught a single word… Beautiful. When Sauron finally released him he sank to his knees, weak and dizzy, and overcome with a desire he had never experienced.
Wonderingly, he put a hand to his neck where his blood still trickled slowly from the wounds Sauron had left. He looked up at Sauron, but whatever had changed about him when he drank from Legolas had fled his features now, and he was once again as perfect as ever.
Looking down quickly, and almost without thinking, he began to unlace the dark lord’s leggings. Only when Sauron stood naked before him did he realise the position he was in. Sauron’s erection was close to his face, and Legolas licked his lips unconsciously. He knew what he expected to happen, and Sauron swayed his hips slightly, causing his erection to brush against Legolas’ lips. But when Legolas reacted by opening his mouth Sauron withdrew from him. He walked around Legolas and away from him, leaving him kneeling on the floor.
Anger and humiliation burned in Legolas for a moment, and then he rose to his feet in a graceful, fluid motion, turning at the same time, ignoring the sudden dizzy feeling he had for moving so quickly. He saw Sauron settled on the bed, one arm around Maglor, gently stroking the other elf’s back. All Sauron’s deeds and threats returned to him at the sight of Maglor and he swallowed the angry words that had been on his lips.
Sauron stared at him in amusement as if he were aware of every thought in Legolas’ mind, and just as Legolas had decided that there was nowhere to go but to him, and nothing to do but what he desired, Sauron clicked his fingers.
Blushing, Legolas walked over to the bed, all the while looking into Sauron’s eyes. He was compelling, and irresistible, but Legolas’ anger did not lessen. If he was forced to do this – was he forced, or was it, in fact, what he wanted – then he would do it how he wanted. He climbed onto the bed and moved so that he straddled Sauron. He looked down into the dark lord’s eyes. Sauron was staring up at him hungrily, and Legolas deliberately let his long hair dangle down, letting it brush against Sauron’s face.
There was a glint of anger in Sauron’s eyes at that, and he reached around to pull Legolas down to him. Their kiss was violent and Legolas matched Sauron’s rough treatment with his own. He tasted blood, and he wasn’t sure whose it was, but it seemed to just incite him further. He took Sauron’s hand away from his hair and forced it back down onto the pillow at the side of the dark lord’s head. Sauron laughed loudly at that, and Legolas pulled back, looking down at him again, this time with annoyance for being interrupted.
“Do you think you can win?” he asked delightedly, throwing a pointed glance at his hand, which was imprisoned by Legolas. He raised himself up slightly and looked deeply into Legolas’ eyes. “You can’t help doing exactly what I want, can you?”
Growling, Legolas took Sauron’s lips again, wanting to punish him. He had never felt this kind of violent passion, and it took him by surprise with its intensity. He didn’t really care if this was what Sauron wanted from him, he just wanted him. He let go of Sauron’s hand so that he could move lower, grazing his teeth over Sauron’s neck.
He licked a line up over Sauron’s ribcage to his nipple, tasting his flesh, the salt of his sweat. He bit down lightly on the nipple, rejoicing when he heard Sauron gasp. He was vaguely aware that Sauron had his hands tangled in Maglor’s hair, kissing him. It didn’t matter, he knew that Sauron was completely aware of what he was doing.
Leaning back, he let his hands brush over Sauron’s legs, raking his fingernails over the inside of his thighs. He watched as Sauron released Maglor to moan longingly, his eyes half-closed. For the briefest moment of time he caught Maglor’s eye, and they almost didn’t recognise each other. The moment was over before it could mean anything though, and Maglor began to lick and suckle at one of Sauron’s nipples while the dark lord continued stroking his hair. Legolas looked to Sauron, and he was staring at Legolas with such obvious desire that it made him smile. He moved lower, until he was sitting on Sauron’s legs, and at last turned his attention to the dark lord’s erection.
Remembering how Sauron had teased him earlier, he leaned over and breathed over it, starting from the bottom, and ending at the top. He heard Sauron moan, and he moved beneath Legolas impatiently. Legolas smiled, and held back his laughter, pursing his lips to blow softly over the hard flesh. Again he started at the bottom and ended at the top, but this time he moved his head slightly so that his breath moved over Sauron’s length from side to side.
He heard Sauron curse him in the black speech, and that made Legolas grin, before he took Sauron into his mouth, almost swallowing him. At once Sauron’s hips lifted from the bed, driving his hardness deep into Legolas’ throat, and Legolas almost choked, but then relaxed to allow it as he began to move his tongue over the underside of his shaft. He started to move his mouth and lips up and down over the flesh, taking tiny breaths as he did so, relishing the sound of the dark lord’s whispered pleas and moans that were almost words. He felt Sauron getting closer beneath his lips and tongue and he moved faster to encourage it, but then he felt his hair being pulled roughly, taking him away from what he was doing.
Before he could take in what was happening, Sauron yanked him forward by his hair and then let his hands drop down to Legolas’ buttocks, pulling them apart in preparation. He barely had time to remember to relax himself before Sauron pulled him down roughly; filling him with the hard flesh that had so recently been in his mouth. Legolas cried out loudly in shock and Sauron laughed, holding him down firmly, not moving, until he recovered enough to use him.
His eyes focused on Sauron, and he glared at him. He remembered Sauron’s words; “Do you think you can win?” and he realised that he hadn’t won anything. He had merely done exactly what Sauron wanted, just as he predicted. In his weakened state, it was as though the strange magic Sauron used to manipulate his desires had more influence.
He only realised that he couldn’t see Maglor when he felt arms close around him. At first he wondered what Maglor was doing, then he struggled when Maglor pulled his arms back so that his hands were resting on Sauron’s legs, forcing him to put his weight on them. He panicked a little when he realised he couldn’t get up from this position, and then he concentrated on relaxing his lower body when Sauron began to move back and forth inside him.
His head fell back onto Maglor’s shoulder, and he moaned helplessly when Maglor began to run his hands over his exposed body. One of his hands teased a nipple while the other started to move over his member. Sauron kept hitting that place inside him with every thrust, and Legolas couldn’t escape from them. “Please,” he gasped breathlessly, but neither of them stopped. He couldn’t lift his hands to protest at what was happening to him. Maglor bent his head and licked at the wounds Sauron had left on his neck earlier, and as Sauron laughed softly at the image in front of him, Legolas couldn’t hold back anymore.
He came with a loud cry, but the torture didn’t end. It carried on for a few minutes longer until at last Legolas felt Sauron grow impossibly big inside him. Legolas grunted in discomfort at the last few thrusts, as they became less rhythmic.
Sauron came inside him and Legolas found himself being pulled forward. Finally, he was held in the dark lord’s embrace. Still exhausted from his own orgasm, he relaxed against Sauron’s chest. He no longer had to hold his weight on his arms, and the sudden freedom made his arms heavy and useless. The dark lord rested his hand on Legolas’ belly, and he shivered. “Mine,” he said in a way that made Legolas despair. Sauron’s lips roamed over his neck and his ear, and he whispered to Legolas.
“You know the word, don’t you, my elf Prince?” Legolas was barely aware of anything, but he nodded to Sauron’s enquiry. “Tell it to me, then,” he demanded.
Legolas responded immediately.
“Beautiful,” he murmured quietly, so that only the two of them could hear it. Sauron held him close for a couple of minutes longer, before pushing Legolas away to lie beside him. Sauron kept one arm around him, and Legolas rested his head on it, looking down to see Maglor cleaning his seed from Sauron’s body with his tongue. He should be disgusted, he thought, but he didn’t have the energy.
Maglor came back to lie at the other side of Sauron, and their eyes met. There was a silent conversation, during which Legolas almost touched the wounds on his neck as part of a question, and Maglor’s gaze nearly rested meaningfully on Sauron. Legolas understood, and it was as he suspected anyway. Despite how he felt about Maglor, he couldn’t bear the thought that the other elf might wilfully aid Sauron, the idea bothered him. Satisfied, he relaxed again, and as Sauron absently toyed with his hair, he even began to doze a little. Sauron’s next words a while later brought him back from the brink of sleep.
“I think I need to concentrate on you today, Legolas. As we ascertained before, you are in need of a reminder, while Maglor here is too accepting of late.” He caressed Maglor’s face as he spoke, and the elf rubbed his cheek against the dark lord’s hand like a cat, but then he stopped and looked at Sauron with wide eyes.
“No!” Maglor protested.
“Ah, life!” Sauron chuckled. “You have been entirely too quiet and submissive these last few years, Maglor. It’s rewarding to know you still crave my attention, as ever.” He rolled over until he was lying on the top of the elf, holding his hands down on the bed with one arm as he looked into his eyes.
“So… you wish to be in his place, hmm?” he asked thoughtfully, brushing his thumb over Maglor’s lips.
“Yes, Hîr nín, you know I do,” Maglor said, managing to sound truly grateful. With a start Legolas realised that his reaction was not feigned. Sauron just laughed and reached out to pull Legolas closer, whispering ominously to him to watch, and listen… and learn.
“Oh, but that is not good enough, Maglor.” Sauron reached down and pushed Maglor’s legs apart, forcing his knees up, and placed the head of his erection at Maglor’s entrance. “You must make me believe it, if you want me to spare him,” Sauron said, waiting for the answer that he knew was coming.
“Please,” Maglor begged, and at that Sauron thrust into him, pulling Maglor’s hips towards him at the same time, so that the elf cried out with the sudden penetration.
“Getting better,” he said darkly. “What do you want, Maglor?” Sauron asked as he started to move in and out slowly, drawing soft, needy moans from the elf’s lips. “Are you asking me to hurt you?”
Maglor opened the eyes that he had closed and his gaze was smouldering and lustful. The deep blue of his eyes darkened even more at Sauron’s words and he sighed longingly, reaching up to pull Sauron down to him, and wrapping his long legs around the dark lord’s waist. They kissed deeply, and Legolas watched as Sauron’s tongue entered his mouth, dominating him. His hand held the back of Maglor’s neck, trapping him in the kiss, and when he pulled back there was desire in his eyes too.
“Say it!” he barked out aggressively, punctuating his words with a forward snap of his hips that even Legolas could feel. Maglor seemed to lose his breath for a moment, his eyes became unfocused, and then he moaned loudly again, the moans coming as words.
“Yes?” Sauron demanded, increasing the pace, and not releasing his hold on Maglor, forcing him to keep the eye contact. Maglor’s gaze turned to pure fire and he gave himself to the submission so passionately it could almost have been a challenge.
“I want you to hurt me!” he cried out, and then relaxed suddenly, his orgasm claiming him without direct stimulation of his member. He closed his eyes again as Sauron smiled down at him. “Please, Hîr nín,” he begged, his voice becoming soft and needful once more, as Sauron took him with increasing speed and urgency.
“And what is the truth behind that, Maglor?” he ground out, as he filled Maglor with his hard flesh again and again, to the sound of the elf’s cries. “Be honest,” he warned, breathing heavily, “because the Prince here thinks you sacrifice yourself for him.” While Maglor’s eyes were closed Sauron turned his lust-filled gaze to Legolas, and stared at him. “Legolas needs to know. He feels it already, but won’t acknowledge it.” He looked back at Maglor. “Why do you beg, mûl vain nín?”
“Because I want to please you, Herdir,” he said without hesitation, opening his eyes. They looked at each other and Sauron groaned with his climax, thrusting into the elf so deeply that Maglor whimpered and tears came to his eyes. The dark lord’s arms closed around the elf and held him close, lifting him from the bed, burying his face in Maglor’s hair.
“Always so good,” he murmured heavily a few moments later, “and you do please me.” Then he moved back and settled himself comfortably, not pulling out of the elf, but holding him down again firmly.
“Now,” he began with a smirk, “why don’t you tell Legolas why you seduced him today?” Maglor gasped and fought to get free, but Sauron wouldn’t let him move so much as an inch. He merely watched interestedly as Maglor struggled and then gave in, obviously enjoying the sight of it. Maglor looked up at the dark lord with such a haunted pain in his eyes that Legolas shivered.
“Please… Don’t… not this…” he begged shamelessly, tears beginning to shine wetly on his cheeks. He spoke so quietly that Legolas almost didn’t hear his next words.
“Please don’t take it away from me…”
“Tell him,” Sauron suggested silkily, ignoring the elf’s desperate pleas.
Maglor seemed to sag in his arms, and his eyes closed. He swallowed as if he was taking medicine he didn’t like the taste of, and yet he answered. “Because it was what you wanted, Hîr nín,” he admitted, and then began to sob.
“Yes, that’s right,” Sauron commented, throwing a glance at Legolas. “You would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” he asked, lazily following the trail of Maglor’s tears with one finger.
There was no fight left in the elf beneath him, and he answered the question quietly. “Yes, Herdir, anything.”
“Good. Because today I want to watch. Today, you will take my usual place and I will direct you.”
At Sauron’s words Maglor froze, and he stopped breathing, looking up at the dark lord in horror.
“You’re not seriously thinking of refusing me, are you?” he asked pleasantly.
Maglor suddenly looked uncertain. “Refuse?” he repeated, as if he didn’t know what the word meant, and perhaps by now Legolas realised with a sick feeling, he didn’t. His last word was barely a breath. “No.”
“Good.” Sauron laughed softly as he looked down at Maglor. “Because I think I can promise it is something you would have enjoyed.”
Sauron shifted a little and Maglor gasped.
“Oh? Always so surprised. But you know what your suffering does to me. You are so irresistible like this, when I break you – so completely mine.” Sauron began to move again, looking deeply into Maglor’s eyes. Legolas turned away from the sight of them. He knew he should be angry with Sauron, but he couldn’t remember exactly why. Maglor’s confession and compliance filled his mind, and made him enjoy the other’s helpless cries as the dark lord took him again. This time Sauron made it last, and made it count, and secretly Legolas was glad.
Hîr nín – my lord
Herdir – master
mûl vain nín – my beautiful slave
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.