Disclaimer: I don't own the Silmarillion
Pairings: none
Characters: Sauron, Ar-Pharazôn (mentions Morgoth, Eru and the Valar)
Warning: canon-compliant AU, blatant manipulation, butt-kissing, fantasizing about mutilation, mentions past torture and disfigurement
Song: Orochimaru's Theme
Words: 1,333
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believe (verb): to have a firm religious faith; to accept something as true, genuine, or real; to have a firm conviction as to the goodness, efficacy, or ability of something
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/believe
If there was one thing Mairon knew about Men, it was how easily manipulated they could be. From the lowest homeless nomad to the prosperous merchant to the most influential, wealthy king--they were all the same in their flawed nature. Their minds revolved in the same endless patterns, so easily deciphered and twisted to a new melody of dissonance.
Ar-Pharazôn was no exception to this law. He was, in fact, the very epitome of its truth and reliability.
Rich. Powerful. Lustful. He was willing to do anything to earn a higher position than had been granted him by the Father's grace. Would turn against anyone if it meant furthering his own goals and reaching that unobtainable goal which his ancestor had snatched away so long ago.
He was one of the most inherently arrogant, selfish and stubborn humans that Mairon had ever crossed paths with, but not the brightest or the strongest in mind or body or will. In fact, the maia would go almost so far as to call him weak and breakable--not only because his quick-burning flame was encased in a mortal, aging shell, but also because his resolve was flimsy at best and downright inconsistent at worst. Easily crumpled and easily burned.
Just as easily torn to pieces and put back together again with a new shape and a new form. A new reality. Until everything he believed to be true was a lie disguised in an appetizing, tantalizing exterior.
And all it would take were a few words and a little humbling and personal humiliation. After serving his first master for so long, a little bowing and scraping before a human still hesitant to use torture and coercion would hardly do any harm. At least he wouldn't get his face peeled off or his fingernails forcibly removed if he somehow displeased the king.
And it was that trail of thought which led him to beg an audience with his captor.
"The prisoner to see you, sire."
"Bring him in."
Just as before, Pharazôn was upon his throne, bejeweled and flamboyantly robed, lounging lazily as a lion in the sun. But those eyes were dark and narrowed, suspicious and distrustful. It was to be expected, and Mairon was in no way daunted by this miniscule obstacle, for he could see past that shield of calm into the shuddering mess of fury, greed and hatred beneath, just waiting to be tapped and pulled to the front of the mind, to be used to mold as with clay this man into a pitiful servant of darkness and delicious sin.
It would be all too easy. For no thought in this man's mind was veiled before the eyes of the wicked creature smiling in masochistic--or perhaps it was sadistic--pleasure.
The maia did not resist in the least when he was dragged, still chained, before the king, or when he was thrown down upon the marble floor like diseased trash by the king's guards and bade silently beneath cold eyes to stay where he knelt, like a slave waiting upon the master. An all too familiar setting.
"What do you want, scum?"
Oh, how I would love to rip out that tongue for such insult! Such pride from this worthless piece of filth! The disrespect, as always, made his blood boil in loathing and his inner eye awaken with fantasies of bloodshed and vengeance. He could picture with such clarity, the limp pink muscle cut clean free and the blood spilling over white teeth and down that angular chin. Even the screams resounded in his head, and it was to that soothing lullaby that he forced a tender smile upon his lovely face and bowed his head subserviently.
"My lord," he began, voice pitched low and breathy, "I understand that thou dost not trust my intentions. No man of intelligence--and indeed, thou art not the least in that--would so easily be won by his foe. Be that as it may, I nevertheless sought to speak with thee about an important matter..."
"Get on with it!"
Rude mortals. Hatred gurgled and roiled, but Mairon shoved it down behind a cage of advantageous opportunity and cloying amusement.
"I want thee to understand that I am genuine in my desire to thank thee, and thus I have decided to give thee a gift to show my appreciation for thy hospitality and kindness, despite my past actions and our past scrimmages."
Those eyes were back on him, and they were curious but wary, still disbelieving and distrusting but inching closer with each moment to that precipice waiting to swallow the fallen. "I cannot think of a single thing you could say that would sway my mind towards you in friendship or comradeship. What could you--a prisoner without an army and without freedom--possibly have to offer me?"
And the maia smiled emphatically. Just beneath the surface, there was eagerness and anticipation. Pharazôn might play at impassivity, yet he was anything but. "Knowledge, my lord."
The king leaned forward at a nearly imperceptive angle. "Continue."
There was a thickness in the air as all ears waited out the tense silence for his reply. A reply he knew would capture the attention of those who heard. "Knowledge of the key to gaining immortality, my lord."
An intense stare burned its way through the kneeling Power. "And you would truly be willing to impart this knowledge?" That moment of hesitation, despite the elevated heart rate and the widened eyes and the excited undertones of that voice, lifted Mairon's opinion of the pathetic human from completely moronic to merely idiotic. Caution was a virtue, one this mortal did not possess in spades. Yet there was not nearly enough to counteract pure temptation.
"I would not have offered this boon had I not intended to impart the truth. What good would it do me if I lied to thee? It would eventually come to thy attention, and that would hardly be conducive to my furthered comfort during incarceration in thy care." Mairon scoffed internally, for he had no intention of telling the truth--that it was impossible to give or take immortality, even for the Powers of the world. "Besides, my lord, thou hast captured my admiration. It is not oft that a mortal has the power or ability to hold one such as myself hostage."
And he could almost see the mortal purring and preening in contentment and satisfaction at the flattery flowing from his tainted lips. But still, he could see the fascination lurking as a shadow over that controlled face. The enraptured gaze bordering on obsession directed discreetly towards him--he who offered that which most these poor, dilapidated old mortals yearned.
"Tell me."
And Mairon couldn't help the grin that crawled onto his handsome face. Couldn't help the hot rush of laughter that wanted to burst from his throat at the sight of noxious hope in this pathetic man's heart. The most potent poison of the mind, so easily provided and so easily taken away. But it was the greatest bargaining chip. The greatest bribe and tool of trickery.
It was all too easy to make this king believe in the hope which he offered seemingly freely.
He could see it. Ar-Pharazôn was convinced and entranced. He believed in the graciousness of his prisoner, if only offered as a trade for good food and a soft mattress. Gullible and yielding, lacking fortitude and iron will. It was both disgusting and disarmingly hilarious, dragging claws of humor across Mairon's spirit.
Perhaps this bowing and scraping would not be so terrible after all.
But the chortling would have to wait.
"Very well. But first, let me impart to thee the truth of Eru Ilúvatar and the Valar, who name themselves Lords of the world..."
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Let's start with the music today! It is the sole reason that this came out as some sort of almost-horror story rather than some inspiration cliché thing. Orochimaru's Theme (the battle theme is combined with it, just to clarify) by Toshiro Masuda--classic villain music. Pipe organ, and a more minor key thou couldst not find! I can even hear a bit of Bach's Toccata and Fugue in there. God, I hated the original Naruto series (I watch Shippuuden only), but I love this theme music. It just screams evil and makes me break out in goosebumps.
Thus, the story made itself about Sauron. He just interacts with so many people and I just love him to death (if you couldn't already tell LOL). And since I reread Akallabêth, I admit I've been preoccupied with the characters alive during the Fall. Elros is cool and all that, but nothing interesting happens while he's king. Okay, that's perhaps a bit mean, but nothing like the human sacrifices, nation
In any case, this is what you've got to work with. Evil theme music and evil characters make horror stories full of evil world domination plotting and bad humor. Enjoy.
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