Smoke and Fire.
My Master, My Brother, My Life.
The Palantir is no longer even visible through the flames and haze, red, black, white fire.
The world itself has died.
A vision of pure Light, the Lord of the Not-World, has manifested to the etheric level in the room, and the walls rattle with the dangerous power of his coming.
Not quite to the physical, no, not yet, my Lord.
He grins down at me, ceasing his exquisite attack for a moment.
“Curumo- you know well what I require- take my love, accept the fire!”
Rhythmic words fall from his angel’s lips.
He motions to the bed, my bed draped in the opulent luxury he has made possible, by my following his counsel and advice.
The bed covered with fur- and red and black and white.
I lie back, submitting to his endless eyes, the all seeing, all knowing.
( I never had a chance )
He is wearing no armor, now, only a black and sumptuous robe, streaked with the silvery strands of the etheric form he is taking. He removes it, dropping it to the floor, never taking his eyes off mine.
The agony of a few moments ago, and all my cries of torment, were only to stoke his fire, merely a morsel for an eternally hungry palate.
The robe lies unwanted on the floor, and he stands before me, tall, shimmering, uncloaked.
He waves a hand, in a kingly gesture of benediction.
My robes are pulled from me, as I lie before him, speechless.
He looks down at me, eyes burning violet annihilation.
( My Lord, I am yours )
He descends onto me, long taloned fingers trailing down my face, and I dare not breathe.
( The Ring )
His mouth is of a sudden on mine, and his long hair falls down around me. His lips are sweet and yet deadly, as if with some beautiful poison. His tongue thrusts deeply into my willing and open mouth, and the taste of him sends mortal thrills down my spine.
( You will send me to my doom )
I try to be silent, but it is useless, and soon my cries, deep yet desperate, are resounding yet again through the room. My arousal is reaching a fevered height, and the need- the need for him is tearing me up inside. My heart is pounding so hard, I am nearly dizzy from it.
“My Lord!” I plead, uselessly. There is no mercy under Annatar.
I touch his muscular shoulders with nearly childlike devotion, my eyes wide with fear and sweet terrified anticipation. He smiles at me, a God indulging his devotee.
He deftly moves me as he wishes, and in the swiftest of moments, he has moved my legs around those huge shoulders, and I close my eyes now, bracing for the sensation.
I do not need to see it, to know the magnificence of what is about to be driven inside me.
I have seen it already, tasted it, run my willing tongue over the bulging veins, and had my throat filled with his burning seed, had it spill down over my lips, and onto my white mantle- as his huge hands held my head, thrusting into my aching mouth.
Yes, I have done this already, and so I know the beauty of his cock, the sweet suffering that is about to begin.
There is no question of easing the way.
It is not nearly so painful in one respect, as he is in the etheric, and I in the physical. It is more of a sensation of being entered, then stretched too far, far too far.
I choke back a groan, and he moves into me, fierce, pitiless, moving his hips in a sensual rhythm, silent.
And then the pain truly unfolds, as he pushes hard inside, his gleaming form above me.
It has become a red rose of agony, he is too large, too hot, his cock is thrumming with the volcanic power of his demon’s soul, and I clutch the bedding under me, digging my nails in, do not scream, do not scream…
The bed calls out its own song, slamming against the wall in steady melody.
By some unhoped for miracle, the pain slowly changes, and transmutes, and I am suddenly filled with sensations that defy any describing. I look up at him, and his eyes are closed, his perfect face serene.
“Annatar…” I whisper, in a voice I do not even recognize as my own. “My brother, my love…”
He opens his eyes now, as I murmur to him. He smiles again, almost benevolent.
Impassive, not revealing any pleasure on his stoic face. He moves more quickly, and I see he is not breathing, and I realize in this form he has no need for that.
And now he closes his vivid eyes again, and clenches his jaw, slightly, and I feel him gripping me underneath, hard, pulling me up to him, to meet his powerful deep thrusts.
He snarls softly, lighting up with a strange radiance, and his scalding seed floods my insides.
As for myself, I cannot hold back, and I clutch at him, raking his back with my nails, drowning in ecstasy. It is too much, and I begin to lose consciousness.
I feel as if I am falling into an Abyss, backwards, through the bed, and down, down…
I come back to myself, after how long, I do not know.
And I am alone, now. The Lord of the Earth has gone, back to the Netherword..back to the Void…and I..am alone.
The moonlight shines in now, illuminating me in my bliss and torment.
Soon, very soon – Sauron shall have dominion…and the whole world shall bend the knee to him.
And they shall submit.
But only I..and I alone, shall truly love him.
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.