Justice: 1. Justice

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1. Justice

Justice

By Milly

NC-17

Sauron / Námo ( yes, you read that right )

Summary: Post-Ring War.

Sauron just doesn't get it. But he will.

Watch out whom ye seek to seduce: you just might succeed. A semi-
humorous takeoff on the story of Hades and Persephone.




JUSTICE





Are you frightened?

I ask him this evenly, quietly.

No reply.

Hair the color of Anor itself cascades around a sinfully fair visage,
framing a mocking face.

He looks at me with a smirking arrogance.

Often falsely swollen to considerable size in the illusion of his
battle glamour, he is not so large anymore. Much smaller than me,
only a slender, unusually striking Maia, in very, very deep trouble.

And he does not seem to understand this at all.

Scarlet robed, he relaxes back in the seat, and lets the robe fall
open too much, boldly, obscenely. I see more than I need to of him
under it: a patch of spun gold, immaculate and neat, pulling my gaze
to it.

Shuddering with what I tell myself is revulsion, I look away.

"Cover yourself! This is not a tryst!" I tell him, offended and
shocked.

He glares at me, with hateful conceit and flaring nostrils, angry at
being rejected.

He pulls the robe closed again with an extravagantly long-nailed
hand. Gestures at me impatiently, as if I am being dismissed.

Indeed, little Maia.

I need to make a point, I suppose.

I lift one hand and gesture near his feet, and there flares up
sparks, and smoke, billowing up around him.

The smug smile vanishes, as if it had never been there at all.

"Now." I say cheerfully, "Let us try this again. Are you frightened?"

He shakes his head, stubborn. I am confused. This is the great
deceiver, the skilled and artful liar?

He is not deceiving me, by any means.

I rise and walk around him, noting that his eyes follow me as I do
so, nervously.

He is, in fact, badly frightened, and yet, perversely, still
belligerent. Afraid I am going to hurt him- but unwilling to even
cooperate.

"Speak, now, I am tiring of your games. Have they not warned you, I
will not toy with you, or waste time with your silence?"

He glares at me, as I circle back around, and stand in front of him.
Then sits back in his seat again, regarding me arrogantly, as if I am
the one being penalized, not him.

"What do you expect me to say?"

"Do you even understand what is happening here? You have been tried
and found guilty- of treason, mass murder, torture, enslavement…I am
sure you know there is more, but those are the worst. It is now my
duty to find a suitable punishment- and means of rehabilitation!- to
suit your crimes and nature. Do you understand this?"

He smiles, and replies sarcastically, "Was the Void occupied, then?"

That is enough.

I reach out and grab his slender throat, and I am surprised at my own
wrath as I tell him:

"You little fool! Manwe gave you mercy, and you mock this?"

He loses the courage, then, and shakes his head- I release him, and
he shrinks back from me, silent again.

I struggle to not sink to his level.

"Do you know why you were spared, Sauron?"

He only stares at me.

"You were spared because there is hope for you. You are not utterly
mad, as Melkor is- and perhaps has been all along.You are sane. You
are evil, shameless, selfish, vain, and sadistic- but you are sane.
There might be hope."

I wait, hoping this may sink in.

But he merely looks at me.

Then, he speaks again, more quietly, less abrasive.

"I understand."

Shocked at this change, I calm considerably.

"Very well, then. Let us begin."

With a sigh, I sit down again, and regard him.

"There will have to be a measure of punishment, from the sheer
gravity and magnitude of your crimes. You are directly, and
indirectly, responsible for the deaths of millions of beings, Men,
Elves, Dwarves, Orcs, even! The weight upon your shoulders ought to
be vast, but you would have to feel a sense of guilt. I do not
believe you- have a conscience- as such."

"A conscience?"

"A sense of right or wrong. The unhappiness that comes from having
done wrong- and the awareness to not do it in the first place."

He frowns, and then shakes his head.

"Is this going anywhere, Námo?"

I grit my teeth so hard they crunch, and with a tremendous effort I
restrain myself.

"Sauron."

"What?"

"If you do not change your attitude, I shall take you personally and
hang you upside down, and you can stay that way for –oh, an Age ought
to get your attention."

He pales dramatically, and retorts foolishly- but not rudely:

"You would not do that to me, Námo! You wouldn't!"

"Why do you doubt it? I am not moved by pity, or empathy."

I pause, and add: "Or your looks. So do not waste any effort on
that, either."

Sauron stares at me again, his mouth hanging open in surprise.

Shifts restlessly.

"So, you think me ugly?", he says, finally, and I scowl at him.

"We are not here to discuss this! For the last time- will you
cooperate?"

Sauron gets up from his seat, and prowls around me, now, and comes up
behind me. I fight to control my anger- it is extraordinary for me to
lose my temper!- I feel his long fingers dig lightly into my
shoulders, and I shiver at his touch.

`Sit down, Sauron. I am warning you…"

His scent- is like- some unknown flower, earthy and sweet, and yet
somehow cloying.

Burnt roses, fire kissed petals...

The fingers dig in, more, as he slips one hand inside the front of my
robe – my judicial, official robe!- and I stand up quickly, and turn
to face him.

"Perhaps I was mistaken- perhaps you are not sane! What do you think
you are doing?"

That insolent smile!

"Answer me! You are one moment away from my wrath, I am not playing
this game..."

Bold beyond all measure of reason, he leans forward suddenly, and I
find his impudent mouth on mine, mocking, always mocking, daring me
to punish him.

Perhaps madness is contagious, for I allow it for one moment too long-

-just enough to feel the silky-smooth tongue he vulgarly pushes into
my mouth, just enough to taste him, wild strawberries and cream,
mingled with smoke and flame…

"Cease!" I roar at him, and thrust him away from me.

"This is a very dangerous game, Sauron. I advise you to stop, ere it
be too late."

He smiles, endlessly smiling, and turns from me, and walks to the
door, as if to leave!

"Where do you think you are going!?"

"Away. Home. I am going home, Námo. I am beginning to tire of this,
myself. I find this place horribly tedious. But it was entertaining
for awhile, and--"

But the spiteful and foolish words are cut off, as I fall on him and
shove him against the wall.

"A fool you were, and still are, I see! Very well, I shall give you
something else to dwell upon, besides your own pitiful ego!"

I drag him- now crying like a child- and kicking me like one, as well-
to the chamber where I make my displeasure known to the other
unhappy rebels in Mandos.

No, I do not actually torture anyone.

There are painless ways of instilling dread and forcing respect.

I make tethers and hoist him up, head down, just as I threatened to
do.

O, the tears, the pleas, now, that he takes this a little more
seriously!

"You must know, Sauron the Unwise, that I am not moved by this. Think
now, on your behavior and your flippant attitude, and I shall return
for you when it pleases me to do so!"

I close the chamber door on his shrieking.

I do not actually leave him very long.

But it must have seemed an eternity to him, for when I return again
he is no longer screaming, only sobbing, slowly spinning around in
his uncomfortable position.

Was it enough?

"Well?"

He looks at me and weeps.

"May we have a discussion with due respect, now? Can you manage that?"

He nods quickly, the sobs becoming softer.

I cut him down, and let him fall in a heap on the ground- my last
reprimand is to let him hit the ground hard.

He moans, and slowly sits up.

"Námo..I see you hate me..everyone hates me, now." He buries his
pretty face in his hands and weeps.

I am about to sternly warn him yet again, when I realize that this
time, it is no game.

Have I reached him? Made him take this with the gravity it deserves?

I kneel beside him.

"Listen to me...I do not hate you, nor do the other Valar. I am
certain you are not missed on Arda, but we do not hate you. We..we
still care about you- if that were not the case- you would not even
be here! But what you have done calls for retribution, and I would
see you change your ways, and your heart, and your way of thinking.
That is why you are here. That is why I must be very severe with you,
if you insist on that."

The cobalt blue eyes, so rimmed with red- not of fire but of grief-
turn to me again, and I feel something I have not felt since Luthien:
pity.

I reach for him and gently touch his face, seeking to console him,
although the very act is a foreign one to me.

And he dissolves into my arms, weightlessly, and I feel another
stirring, even more foreign.

"I do not mean to be evil, Námo, I have known no other way for so
long..."

His robe opens yet again, as he leans back into my arms, and I catch
a very unwanted glimpse of his stomach, muscular yet somehow soft,
fragile strength. Pale, so pale..

He is making me uneasy, now.

//I want to see more...open that crimson robe up again, let me see
all of you..//

Shocked and horrified at what I suddenly know to be desire, I try to
untangle myself from him, to get up.

He clutches me, unwilling to free me.

"You asked me if I was frightened..yes, I am frightened, very much.
Is that what you want to hear?"

"No…I simply want the truth..."

"*This* is the truth.."

And that sweet mouth finds me again, honey and cream and musky
maleness, and I lose myself in it this time, all the while appalled.

Without breaking the illicit kiss, he pulls me down onto him, with
the grace of someone who has done this many times.

"I cannot...I must not!..." I protest, as my hands work to pull off
the hated robe from his spirit-body. Freed from its thrall, he lies
exposed to me, looking at me with eyes full of wonder.

"Námo…"

"Do not speak. Do not even whisper..."

I descend onto him, safe in the knowledge that we shall not be
disturbed- no one comes here of their own free will…

Artful and coy, he lifts long legs around my back, making no pretense
of his own intentions.

My thawing passion is heating, coming to life, long-slumbering
volcanic fire stirring now.

"What are you doing to me!" I exclaim, in wonder and horror.

"Make haste.." he moans now, closing the sultry eyes. "Hurry."

Yes, make haste, indeed.

Before I return to my senses.

The sensation of desire, so very unfamiliar, arises in me like a long-
forgotten tide, and my warming soul begins to make demands.

My hand slithers between his legs, and I thrust a finger inside him,
slowly but deeply- he squirms and sighs, wriggling against my hand.

"Oh, Námo, Námo…that feels so good..."

"Does it?"

`Yes...please..more…"

I twist my finger inside him, and stroke- I feel a swollen spot, and,
curious, I lavish attention on it- Sauron howls and thrashes, and so
I come to the conclusion it must be pleasurable.

"Námo! Oh, that's it! Right there…"

"If a finger is good, then this will be better..."

I slide him onto his back fully, and open his legs up around me even
higher- he wears a look of anticipation and fear- he digs long nails
into my arm, and murmurs:

"Námo...please…have a care...go easy..."

"I will. Now- lie back and give yourself to me- this is what you have
driven us towards, and so it comes to pass. But I will use restraint."

I find my way with eager determination, pushing inside him as slowly
as I can bear, even as he winces and digs his fingers into my
shoulders.

Weak with excitement, I begin to move in him, feeling that
immeasurable sweetness surround me, drowning me in it.

My little foul-minded and sharp-tongued prisoner, writhing under me,
affecting me in a way that I cannot bear...he has stirred the dark
and sleeping waters..does he realize there is no return from this?

Sweet, sweet, filthy-foul, a wickedness to every thrash of those
hips, every groan, every time he moans my name...

I am so degraded, so defeated.

"Oh Námo! My love, my lover..."

For those beings who deal with- and feel- their emotions normally,
this would not have the profound effect that it is having on me. But
for me, these feelings and sensations- even simply being excited in
this way- are alien and very new things, and it has a deep impact.

It does something to me.

I seize him with savage desire, and embrace him with a mighty
passion, tasting his throat, licking him.

"Sauron..."

He does not answer, only bucking up against me, howling like the
vicious animal he is.

"Oh harder, harder, harder!" he finally cries out, in words I can
understand at last.

"O Námo! Oh, oh...so close!" His nails dig into me relentlessly, and
he returns my death-grip with one of equal despair, making those
strange sounds again.

I cannot hold off.

This is not something I..am often favored with.

The pleasure unleashes in stages, one after another, and then
suddenly the tides roar in, and I find myself nearly howling myself,
out of my mind with it.

Spent, shivering, I want to make it come for him as well, and with
all my Will I surge into him repeatedly, determined to stay firm
enough to satisfy him as well.

The vigorous hammering has the desired effect, and his whole body
arches backwards, as a piercing scream tears out of him- his insides
spasm tightly, and for a long moment he seizes in place, now silent.

And then...sinks down, with a shuddering sigh.

It feels like an Age...but at length, I speak.

"O Sauron, Fire and Ice. I shall make your days here a joy, I have no
more heart to punish you. You sought to make me love you- and I fear
you have prevailed."

He looks at me at first with a smile, and then without.

"Námo..? What do you speak of..?"

"We shall be happy here, you and I. And I shall find a way to reform
you, cure you of your evil. We have time. So much time."

I take his hand, now cold and shaking.

"Do not fear, I will never speak angrily to you again, or reprimand
you, or frighten you. I love you, Flame of Aule."

His eyes have opened so wide, if I knew not better, surely it would
be horror I see in the vivid blue!

But I know better, of course.

I smile at him, an unaccustomed thing, yet again.

"Always, you shall stay with me, beautiful Maia. You shall never know
fear, or pain, or need again. Always, we shall be together."

I embrace him, my heart swollen with the sweet new awareness of love.

"*Always*."



EPILOGUE


Distantly, Manwe heard a bone-chilling scream, piercing and
anguished, mingled rage and agony in the sound.

Was Námo...*torturing* Sauron? It could not be- he never did such
things.

That was not allowed, he had been very clear on that!

This was a last effort to save the fallen Maia's soul, and harming
him would only drive him even farther away.



And then, he saw a vision in his far-reaching sight, and he relaxed.

All was well.

Sauron and Námo were lying in an embrace, entwined together,
seemingly calm.

Manwe smiled.

Love, then.

It was well.




FIN...



***Watch out what you wish for...even in deception.


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.

Story Information

Author: Annatar the Fair

Status: General

Completion: Complete

Era: 3rd Age - Post-Ring War

Genre: Drama

Rating: Adult

Last Updated: 11/11/05

Original Post: 11/11/05

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