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Sin and Slavery	By : pip Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4273 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Author: pippychick
Pairing: Sauron/Maglor
Warnings: AU, M/M Slash, graphic sex, BDSM, D/s, Rape/Non-con, horror, violence, physical handicap – basically, if you can think of it, it’s likely here somewhere. Generally dark, disturbing, and possibly bad for your mental health. You have been warned.
Disclaimer: Middle-Earth is not mine, neither are Sauron or Maglor. They belong to Tolkien. I make no money from this.
Summary: After casting the Silmaril into the sea, Maglor wanders aimlessly along the beach, and to quote Tolkien: “…he never came back among the people of the Elves.” Here might be a reason why.

Author’s Note:
Ok… hello everyone :)

I have wanted to do this for a while, but at christmas I wrote myself the first part of Maglor’s story. Well – the Maglor we see in “Fallen” anyway. By the time Legolas comes across him, Maglor is somewhat damaged, and of course that’s all Sauron’s doing.

Bearing that in mind, I will warn you that this story is dark fiction. It’s going to be very disturbing. If it isn’t, then you should probably consult a therapist.

The story follows on from a passage in the first chapter of “Fallen” which can be found here:

http://lotr.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600080114

Sin and Slavery
(a companion piece to “Fallen”)

Chapter One

“Punish me,” he said softly, shivering. “Please,” he added as an afterthought, and at last he felt Sauron moving away from him a little.

“Very well,” he said, amused, and Maglor swallowed the cry that rose in his throat. “Let us begin, mûl nín.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Now… what would you like to experience first?” The elf turned his face away defiantly, as though he had not been trembling and terrifed just a moment earlier, and Sauron smirked at the brittle display of bravado.

“You won’t talk to me?” he chastised in amusement. “After I have decided to grant your wish?”

“I do not care to speak with such as you,” Maglor declared in stony contempt, still refusing to look at him.

“Very well, then!” Sauron said loudly, gratified when he saw Maglor’s body tense as if in expectation of pain, but he had no intention of performing so blunt and unimaginitive a punishment. Instead he waited a moment, before adding: “Perhaps I will just keep you here.”

He watched closely, enjoying every tiny reaction the elf gave him. “I will fade,” he said, as if bored, but it was just an act. Sauron could see that, and strangely it made him appreciate the elf’s terror all the more. That he would try to hide it, that made it a compliment.

“Will you indeed?” he asked rhetorically. “Is that supposed to matter to me? Go ahead!” Sauron waved a magnanimous hand as if challenging the elf to do just that. “Be my guest – or not,” he added with a smirk, “as the case may be.”

The elf struggled desperately for a moment or two while Sauron watched, eventually conceding defeat with a loud growl of frustration. “What do you want with me?” he demanded, at last looking at Sauron again. It was a mistake. For a single brief flicker of time Sauron could see panic in the elf’s eyes, and he grinned devilishly.

“What do I want with you?” he repeated softly, with just a little sarcasm, leaning forward in his seat slightly, his smile only broadening when the elf huffed in annoyance. He deliberately looked Maglor up and down once, slowly. “Well, at the moment I am trying to determine what kind of punishment to inflict upon you. Past that I hadn’t really considered…”

“Let me go!” Maglor suddenly demanded angrily, pulling hard on the bindings at the same time.

“A useless request, and one I have no trouble declining.”

The elf swore, and Sauron relished the emotion and vulnerability that poured from him.

“Shall I decide for you then?” he asked when Maglor became still and silent, hoping to draw more from him, but instead the elf remained wearily dull and accepting.

“I do not care.”

“So you say, but you and I both know that you do care… very much.” Sauron waited, but there was no plea or demand forthcoming, and so he smirked, signalling an uruk over to them. Perhaps this would make the elf react again.

“Do you see how the dark affects your kind?” he asked meaningfully, watching as Maglor’s blue eyes shifted momentarily to the orc that Sauron gestured to.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” he said softly. But then it seemed he couldn’t contain his curiosity. “The dark?”

Still wearing the same chilling smile, Sauron went on to explain precisely what he meant. Over a period of time he told Maglor how the great orcs came into being, even going so far as to describe in detail how it had been when Melkor showed the trick to him.

As a final gift, Sauron decided to leave Maglor in the dark for a while, so that he could “see for himself.” If he had been anyone else, he would have believed his words were not heard, so cold and expressionless Maglor was, but then, just as he was leaving with the last of the light, Maglor moaned.

“Please,” he begged, and Sauron knew that out of all the nightmares he had confided, Maglor had heard and fully appreciated every single one. “Don’t leave me… don’t make me. I don’t want to change!”

“Beautiful,” Sauron said, more to himself than to Maglor, and then swept out of the room, leaving him in the pitch black for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At first the dark lord’s words had been a companion to him in the dark, making him shiver and tremble. Was it true? Could it change him so much? And then, when his mind was tired of that, he noticed it.

The darkness he had been left in was total. It wasn’t like a night with a new moon, or even a cave… there was real darkness here. Maglor whimpered and the sound came back to his own ears twofold, offering no comfort.

It wasn’t like being blind, because it was black. He could see the black and nothing else. His mind reacted in exactly the way Sauron said it would, and that surprised Maglor to the point of screaming.

He wanted to move, but he couldn’t. His mind refused to allow him to believe there was space to move in. It was like being confined in a coffin or underground. The black pressed in on him, and even though he felt the binds fall free from his wrists and ankles… he was still.

Living death… that is what it was. That is what is was to be one of them. Maglor swallowed, and did the only thing he could – he used his precious memories to live.

Reliving every moment of his long life in his isolation, at times he smiled and laughed. But then, as his experience dwindled to the last few millenia he began to feel afraid. What would happen when he had nothing left to keep him warm? In his mind he took the oath along with his brothers all over again, powerless to stop that mistake, and he relived the journey over the sea to middle earth. By now he was crying, alone in the dark, but everything he had done was presented to him by his desperate mind because it was all he had to cling to.

Again, he urged Maedhros to break the oath with him, and again, Maedhros convinced him to keep it. He cried out in shame when his hand burnt and he endured the terrible loneliness afterwards, dawdling by the edge of the sea.

When his memories led him back to the moment of the withdrawal of the light, he howled like an animal, and his fingers twitched but he didn’t move. There was nothing left, and he felt himself retreating from the dark, knowing what this was because Sauron had described it to him, but unable to stop it.

Maglor was meaningless. Maglor was an elf, and he couldn’t be Maglor anymore. Not if he wanted to move – and he did want to move. But then, as if to save him, there was a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sauron walked forward with the magical globe of light in his hands, and Maglor sat up on the marble table, tears falling from his eyes as he sighed in relief and gratitude. After his spell in the dark he looked mortal, deep lines creasing his face that spoke of suffering and anguish. But he didn’t falter – and he didn’t look away from the light.

Slowly he stood, and padded over to Sauron silently as if hypnotised, uncaring of his nakedness or the truth of his imprisonment. Sauron simply held the light out of Maglor’s reach, sure that the elf would reach out to it – and he did.

Perhaps this one should be changed, after all, Sauron thought as he watched Maglor’s hungry eyes follow the light, pale hands clutching his shoulders desperately as though to climb Sauron’s body and reach the magical globe that was held far above him. The elf was displaying the same reaction as all the others, unsurprising really. But then Maglor did something Sauron did not expect.

He watched, and he saw the elf stop, falling still so suddenly that Sauron caught his breath. Then, instead of continuing to stare at the brilliance of the little ball of light, Maglor looked to him.

“The dark…” Maglor whispered in a haunted tone, his hands still on Sauron’s shoulders in the attitude of a lover, all trace of his initial resistance gone. Sauron nodded once, curious to see where this would go if he allowed it to continue.

“It blinds us.” The last word was drawn out long, into a hiss that was reminiscent of the orcs – but there was plenty of time for Maglor yet. “I could not see,” he said miserably then, pressing his naked body close to Sauron as if for warmth, as though he had forgotten who the dark lord was. He probably had. “I could not move… I could not be.”

Sauron smiled maliciously, and perhaps it was fortunate that Maglor had his face pressed against the dark lord’s shoulder at that moment, for that smile invited madness, and Maglor was already halfway there.

“I forgot that you had a lyrical soul, mûl nín,” he said in mock regret. Then, as the dangerous smile faded, Sauron brought down the tiny globe of light so that it was within Maglor’s reach – and simply gave it to him.

He stepped back to better observe the sight as Maglor looked down at the globe in his hands – much more than the gift of light – it was mercy, or perhaps it was fate. “Does it please you?” he encouraged, greed for Maglor’s reaction making his eyes glitter.

“Oh, yes… it does…” Maglor sighed, his voice sounding more normal now as he looked on the light, his face smoothing once again into perfection. Indeed, at that moment Maglor held something that Sauron had not seen, nor wished to see for many millenia. He was the image of tranquility, and suddenly Sauron found himself wanting to steal it from the elf.

He came forward again to invade the elf’s personal space, one desire paramount – to taste him while he displayed such peace and joy. “Give it to me…” Sauron demanded hungrily, then laughed when Maglor attempted to hold the globe of light out of his reach. “Not that,” he murmured, before capturing Maglor’s lips in a searching kiss.

For a moment there was nothing, just the resistance of anyone to this kind of onslaught, and then there it was… Sauron closed his eyes and sighed into Maglor’s open mouth, claiming the surrender that was due to him, relishing the taste of him, but the kiss was something else too. As an aid to psychological rape it was very symbolic, but Sauron didn’t care about that. He touched Maglor’s mind, and in it he found the last vestiges of the serenity he had seen as Maglor let the globe roll off the edge of his outstretched fingers and fall to the ground.

That too, was as new as all the rest, because Maglor’s attention had been completely diverted from the light – long enough for him to let it go – and it was a promise that Sauron had to see through. As the fragile magic shattered, darkness reigned again. His eyes were still closed, but he could feel Maglor’s slow return to sanity stop as though he had been frozen in place.

“Oh, mûl nín,” he murmured softly against those soft lips, sending out a flicker of magic that made the torches on the walls kindle immediately, bathing the room in golden light that the elf closed his eyes against. “You won’t be escaping into the dark,” he foretold, sure that whatever his intentions were, Maglor wasn’t going to be changed so clumsily. “I promise I will take my time with you.”

Maglor shivered in his arms at his words, and it was almost enough to make him sigh.

“You will call me ‘Hîr nín,’” he ordered, “or ‘Herdir’ if you wish to please me.” He watched Maglor’s lips tighten, and then he saw the elf glance uncertainly at the torches on the wall. Sauron said nothing more, and simply waited. Maglor gave him what he wanted after a small internal struggle.

“Yes, Hîr nín,” he said, closing his eyes as if the capitulation pained him in some way. Maybe it did. And that was the perfect punishment… to begin with.

Translations:
mûl nín – my slave
Hîr nín – my Lord
Herdir – Master

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading, I hope you are enjoying it. Comments welcome and encouraged. :)
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Sin and Slavery