Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the Lord of the Rings (but not the slash)
Pairings: Sauron x Celebrimbor
Characters: Sauron, Celebrimbor (mentions of Melkor, most races in Middle-earth, Ilúvatar and the other Ainur)
Warning: canon-compliant AU, slash, thoughts of murder, world domination plots, obsessive behavior, mentions of sex (not incredibly explicit though obvious), seduction
Song: Whispers in the Dark
Words: 1,326
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lust (noun): intense or unbridled sexual desire: lasciviousness; an intense longing: craving
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/lust
For as long as he could truly remember--as long as he had walked upon the earth in the raiment of a man--Sauron had had one ultimate desire, one need that consumed his entire existence and demanded his complete and utter attention at all times. It was all-encompassing, had driven him to such desperate lengths that he had knelt at the feet of his most hated enemy and master, demeaning himself and uttering oaths of false loyalty if only to stay in favor with the power that could have crushed him without a second thought. If only to further himself, to gain, piece by piece.
But in the back of his mind, he had always desired more, so much more, than that ugly existence. He had never been satisfied as Morgoth's lieutenant, his revered, reviled tormentor, the best of the best and greatest of the greatest. It had never been enough to be feared by all upon the earth, by the Elves and the Men and the Orcs and even his own fellow servants of darkness. Always, he had hungered for more.
More power. More, more, more until he could languish in the golden, honeyed feeling of being obeyed and worshipped, until it surrounded him and cradled him and bent to his will.
Oh, how he had hated his master, Melkor.
But Melkor was no more upon this earth. And Sauron was free.
Free to pursue his greatest desire, his unquenchable lust for power, the longing to have the world driven to its knees by his armies, ravaged by his forces, begging and pleading for his nonexistent mercy and licking the toes of his boots. What a delicious image it would be, to have all the free peoples of Middle-earth prostrated before him, utterly in his hands, chained more efficiently and effectively than any metal of the earth could hope to bind, for they would wear chains of devotion, obedience and terror.
The very idea gave him a noxious high, a feeling that made him glow with pleasure. All he had to do was think of that, the goal waiting at the end of his long, arduous task, and his golden face would become more radiant than the stars.
No one would ever look at him and think him a monster, though that was what he was.
And then something had gone terribly wrong.
Something had changed. Sauron now had a new desire--an unwanted desire--one that nearly trumped the urge to burn and consume and remake and own everything and everyone utterly.
It was but an elf. One elf.
But what an elf he was.
Tall with a face that would make the Valar weep, with eyes sharper than any spear and brighter than any divine light. The sheer fire that burned without this elf's spirit tingled against Sauron's flesh and soul, as if it radiated sheer strength of will and turbulent, vehement determination. Radiated all he wanted to subdue to his will. This elf was the embodiment of everything Sauron desired and wished to control, wished to contain, wished to chain and lock up and hide deep beneath the earth so it would never see anything but him again. Never see Anar. Never see Tilion. Never see the starry dome overhead.
He lusted. Oh, how he lusted! Oh, how he desired! Oh, how he longed to possess!
Celebrimbor was his.
From his raven hair to the rippling muscles of his smith's arms and back to the delicious curve of his rear end to the tips of his elegant fingers and toes. Every sultry inch belonged to Sauron, and he would allow no other to touch what was his.
Some days, he wondered which lust triumphed in his mind. If he forgot, even for an hour, about his plans and schemes, about the purpose of the bejeweled rings forged in the fires of Eregion, then he would never admit it to himself. Nothing could be more important than succeeding where his revolting former master had failed, than obtaining all that he had ever panted after for as long as his spirit could recall existing in Eä.
Yet, even as he thought such things, things that had once given him unspeakable pleasure, the imagine of naked, glistening flesh and the sound of hushed, breathy cries would ring in his ears, and Sauron wondered bleakly how this elf had gotten under his skin, wonder why the image was never complete unless that raven beauty was in his sight.
More than anything, he despised Celebrimbor for being everything he wanted. He both hated and loved his dark noldo, reveled in their time together, in the fucking and the writhing and the joining, but at the same wanted to slit open the long white throat so oft bared to him in trust just to remove this obstacle, this test that the Father himself must have put down on his long, winding road to block his stubbornness and obstinacy, his will to dominate and his lust for greater things than even Melkor could claim to his accursed name.
Scowling at such thoughts, he found that he held a deformed, twisted bit of metal beneath his hammer. For once, he had lost his focus. Thinking about him.
In disgust, Sauron tossed the metal into the fire, listening to the sharp clang of gold against rough stone. The misshapen ring landed amongst the flames, lit up with orange and red and ash, reflecting back all the hatred Sauron felt at the moment, and all the passion.
Perhaps it was time to put the final pieces of his plan into motion?
"What has you so frustrated, Lord Annatar?"
That voice. Sauron resisted the urge to shudder and glare as he faced the elf that haunted his dreams and all his waking moments without thought or effort. Celebrimbor was truly a sight to behold; any man or woman would be lucky to have such a bedmate. And in the firelight, with no shirt to cover his sculpted body, with sweat streaming over a heaving chest and lithe muscle, he was the epitome of tantalizing.
The lust panged.
"Nothing of great importance," he lied as easily as he breathed. "What brings you here?"
Eyes met his, and the look in them was all too familiar. Even though he was a maia, even though he should have perfect control of his being, the heat still bubbled in the pit of his belly like lava at such a half-hooded look of pure longing and promise. What temptation had the Father heaped upon him? Had he been one to lament, Sauron would have been weeping for the shame of his weakness at only a heated glance!
"I was looking for you."
But how could he resist such a blatant offer? Even now, he felt himself drawn away from the forge and the fire and the twisted gold in the flames, the promise of his dominion over all beings lingering lost in the darkness of the horizon, just beyond sight. His throat was dry and tight as a gentle, cool touch burned at his forearm.
Sauron allowed himself to pull that body closer. "So I see," he replied, his voice low and hoarse, reverberating with the power of his fury and need. The body against his shivered delightfully.
So easily, that face and that form consumed his thoughts.
And Sauron could not help but wonder if this divine creature truly was a test lain out by the Father himself to put a stop to all his plans and schemes, to halt the corrupted, fallen angel in his tracks, to cage him with bars more solid and terrifying than any iron or mithril.
Because if he had to choose between the lust for power and the lust for this fiery spirit, he could not say with any certainty what he would choose.
And that was dangerous.
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Not in the mood for fluffy today. Someone had to suffer for it. Poor Celebrimbor. I really do love you, I promise. (It's just that the idea of this pairing makes me tingly because I'm a slash fangirl deep down and really they just make it too easy!)
Anyway... I was listening to Whispers in the Dark by Skillet as I wrote this, which is rather ironic considering that Skillet is a Christian band. But then, I still like their music, and I think it turned out to fit better than I originally thought it would with this theme. I didn't want to make it all about the sex, though, because smut for smut's sake does not belong with a writing prompt. Anyway, this doesn't even classify as smut, because there's no actual sex.
As for Annatar, some pictures: Sauron Annatar (even though Annatar is not an epessë and shouldn't be used as one, and I imagine Sauron more golden most days) by ~Maureval on dA and The Eye of Sauron by =psion005 (because I think it looks awesome and can you imagine a person with eyes like that *shivers*). Oh, and this adorable picture of Celebrimbor and Gil-Galad: Taking a Break by ~kittykatkanie on dA. Most artwork of Celebrimbor, unfortunately, is artwork of his naked, impaled body being used as a war banner, so I thought I'd look for something a little different.
Ja ne.
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