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A Light in the Black	By : pip Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2081 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's world, Middle Earth, The Lord of the Rings or any characters. I make no money from this work of fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Prologue
- 2-Chapter One
- 1
- 2
Author's Note: Ok, well here is the first part of a new project. A sequel to Fallen. Lots of things in store here. Be sure to read the warnings. Title stolen from “A Light in the Black” by Rainbow. It seemed to fit. The lyrics too.
Warnings: AU, M/M Slash, graphic sex, BDSM, D/s, Rape/Non-con, horror, gore, violence, vengeance, cruelty – 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.
Other warnings that become applicable will be added to the top of chapters. Ensure you pay attention to them. I can't stress this enough.
A Light in the Black

Prologue
When Maglor awoke, he coughed, tasting the memory of dust in his mouth. He blinked his eyes in the dim light and turned over onto his back, dislodging Sauron's arm which was thrown over him as if in protection. What had happened?
The ring! It had been destroyed at last! How he knew, he could not be certain, but perhaps it was because when Sauron's will was not focused on him, it had been bound to the ring. His own fate was as tied to that ring as Sauron's was. In those terms, it was inevitable that he should be aware of its sudden demise. He recalled the terrible sound and vibration as Barad-dûr shook, masonry falling in chunks to the polished floor where he stood alone and afraid. Alone. Sauron had not been with him then.
When he knew the ring was gone, there had for an instant been a flicker of hope in his heart. Until he realised he would be buried in the ruins. Was he dead? Was this Mandos' Halls, or had he somehow survived and was now trapped beneath all those tons of granite and obsidian?
Where was that light coming from? Maglor could not tell, and he realised it did not extend far when he sat up. Indeed he could not see the boundaries of this new prison, but it felt close and claustrophobic. The light faded into darkness, and he put out his hand tentatively. He pulled it back when he sensed movement he could not see. Had he disturbed something? Or was there something in here with them?
Maglor's gaze fell to the floor. Sauron lay unmoving by the side of him, unconscious, covered in his usual black robes. How his Master could be here was another mystery. He should have died with the ring, surely, or fulfilled his plan of using ‘Athân as a passenger to Aman. This should all be over for him! Maglor felt furious for a moment that not even the destruction of Mordor and the ring had finally freed him.
Where exactly were they? The floor... he would expect it to be strewn with rubble if they were alive, but it wasn't. Somehow the light didn't illuminate it very well, and Maglor could not even be sure that he was in the same hall he remembered when the whole building came tumbling down.
He moved from Sauron's side, crawling forward carefully to see if he could find something in the darkness. The light seemed to follow him where he went, and it showed him nothing. Wait! Wasn't that movement again? It was impossible to directly observe, and it made no sound aside from a quiet dragging. Maglor turned and inched slowly back towards Sauron before he could become too disoriented to find his way, but Sauron wasn't there.
His heart beat fearfully in a panic, stammering as he searched, only to find his Master still unconscious a short distance away, but now his arm was stretched out, as if something had tried to pull him away. Maglor swallowed. He did not want to be alone here.
“Herdir,” he whispered, and his voice seemed to echo in the darkness outside the pale ring of light, sibilant and chittering. He put out his hand to Sauron, nudging him gently, apprehensive. His Master groaned, then lifted his head. Suddenly Sauron gasped, sitting up to look all around him, his eyes wide. Maglor cringed involuntarily. He'd never seen his Master afraid before, and it terrified him.
Nothing else happened, except that Sauron turned around and around, staring out into the darkness at something only he could see. Sauron trembled so violently Maglor could see it, and he clutched at his Master's sleeve, wishing he would settle again, regretting having awoken him.
“Hir nín,” he breathed, and Sauron turned to him then, taking hold of him and holding him close, but facing outwards to the dark. “What is it? Where are we?” He struggled because Sauron's arms were so tight around him he was afraid his ribs would break. “Ai! Please! It hurts! I am sorry!”
The arms around him eased slightly, but did not let him go. When he spoke, Sauron's voice was quiet and deliberately calm. “We are nowhere, mûl nín. We are in the void. I see them! The creatures of the unlight surround us.” Sauron shuddered, Maglor pressed back against his Master's chest, his eyes wide, looking directly into the dark. “The light is keeping them at bay,” Sauron said. “They can not hurt you.”
“Where is the light coming from?” Maglor questioned, aware that they must not allow it to fail. Sauron turned him around and he made a sound of startled terror as he stared into his Master's eyes. In this place they burned in truth, red and fiery.
“Don't you know?” Sauron demanded, shaking him slightly, and Maglor cowered, seeing something in his eyes that was akin to anger. “Makalaurë...” His name, spoken tenderly, made him dare to press closer, Sauron's hands on his back, heavy and warm. Fear, desire, lust, one following the other. Even here, even now, in danger so terrible there was no name for it. “The light comes from you,” Sauron whispered, and an icy tendril crawled up his spine at the way Sauron said it. Greedy. As if he and the light were the same, a possession and an advantage, as if he were not a living being at all.
“I can not explain why you are here, mûl nín. After everything, even I assumed your fëa would travel to Mandos. But instead you accompanied me, and despite me you still wield it.”
“I do not understand,” Maglor said softly, in denial.
“The secret fire. The flame. It is in you.. in your fëa. Despite everything I have done to you, you still shine. It is weak, but it is there. Imperishable indeed.”
Maglor barely had time to process what Sauron told him before he was pulled close again, and he uttered a startled cry.
“You!” Sauron declared. “You will keep me safe!” Maglor shivered at that, tilting his face upwards out of habit, but Sauron did not attempt to dominate him as he would usually. No, because he already had what he wanted, didn't he? Maglor's light.
Something inside him crumbled and the light suddenly faded, becoming faint and grey. “What are you doing?” Sauron demanded, shaking him again, violent, an undercurrent of panic behind his words. “Don't you hear what I tell you?”
“Please!” Maglor cried out, raising a hand to Sauron's face as if begging for something. A wicked smile, he had, and he wore it now as he looked down. Then suddenly those lips were on his, hard and dominant, commanding submission as always. Maglor closed his eyes and gave in, letting his body go limp in Sauron's grip. Something familiar. Sauron's tongue in his mouth, his taste, his warmth, his body pressed close. He moaned, his arms winding around his Master's neck as Sauron's palms roved over his back.
“Yes, that is it,” Sauron murmured against his lips, as seductive as he'd ever been. “Shine brightly, mûl nín.”
Sauron pulled back and Maglor blinked, licking his lips. The circle of light extended further, was brighter.
“Well,” Sauron said with a cruel smile. “Now I know how to work you.” Maglor shook his head and tried to get free, only for Sauron to kiss him again, and again the light grew in strength.
Sauron laughed. “All I have to do is ensure you cannot escape me.” So saying, he reached into a pocket and drew Maglor's hands together behind his own back, tying them tightly. To this binding he attached a length of chain, then turned Maglor around and pushed him forward into the dark so that he almost stumbled.
“Lead on, mûl nín,” he ordered.
“Where do we go, Herdir?” Maglor dared to ask. If this was the void, then there was nothing here.
“Your little light show may have drawn more monsters than this. We must keep moving. Melkor would do anything to get his hands on you, and I promise the millennia of your slavery to me would be naught but a pleasant memory then. Keep walking!”
They walked for some time, maybe an hour, maybe a day. Maglor wished to rest, if only to dispel the dreadful monotony, but did not dare to say so. The light grew fainter at times, and Sauron would draw him in then on the makeshift leash, doing as little as necessary to make him burn with need before shoving him forward again. Once, Maglor caught a momentary impression of what was waiting beyond the safety of the light, and he screamed out loud, over and over again, his fragile grip on sanity fleeing from him. He wasn't sure how long it took Sauron to bring him back, but he was much more careful with Maglor after that.
“Are we dead?” Maglor asked, when he dared to speak, and Sauron laughed at his question for a long time, tapping his lower body to urge him onward as if he were a horse. Maglor burned with resentment, and to his dismay it made the light burn too.
“We are beyond life and death here,” Sauron said eventually, then he sighed. “You will learn or you will perish. But regardless, your fëa will remain with me.” He laughed strangely. “To think that you are the last thing of value I possess. And beyond price. Ilúvatar does has a sense of humour, after all.”
Maglor flinched. Sauron had ever been cruel, but never dismissive. “Do not speak so of me,” he pleaded. “I will protect you gladly, Hîr nín.”
When he received no reply, the light wavered momentarily. “Do you require so many assurances of my interest in you? Did the centuries we passed together mean nothing?” Sauron demanded, impatient, and his words made the light strengthen again. Maglor sighed, feeling like a fraud.
“I do not feel hunger or thirst,” Maglor noted, disturbed by their absence. “Nor am I tired.”
Sauron said nothing, and Maglor dared to turn around as he walked to look at him. He tried to ignore the sudden sibilant whispering behind him. “Is there truly nothing else?” he asked, wondering how long it would be before his awareness fled from the horror and he became little more than a living lamp for Sauron to carry around.
Sauron regarded him. “Oh, I think there is one other thing,” he observed, deadpan, “and we both know how much you like it.”
Maglor sighed and turned away, back to the featureless dark. “Can you still see them?” he asked, ignoring the teasing, already knowing the answer.
“They are looking right back at you,” Sauron said, his voice strained. “One of them is drooling... if you can call it that.”
Maglor just barely managed to bite his tongue before he could ask if Sauron was referring to himself, and instead of staring into the dark, he looked down at the ground as he walked.

To be continued...

Author's Note: Thank you for reading – I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a comment!
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A Light in the Black