Five Things That Never Happened to Sauron by Russandol
Fanwork Notes
Note: "Lies in Eregion" and "Call to Aman" sit within my larger WIP story of Sauron and Eönwë (Chasing Mirages, posted also in this archive), but you do not need to have read it.
Thank you to my fellow lizards for comments and nit picking.
- Fanwork Information
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Summary:
Five short scenes with a twist, in five different locations. Each of them harder to write than the previous one!
1st Place, Ficlet: Elder Days & Smaug's Treasure, MEFA 2011
Major Characters: Ar-Pharazôn, Celebrimbor, Eönwë, Sauron, Thranduil
Major Relationships:
Genre: Alternate Universe, Experimental
Challenges: Fifth Birthday Celebration
Rating: Teens
Warnings: Character Death, Sexual Content (Mild)
This fanwork belongs to the series
Chapters: 1 Word Count: 674 Posted on 14 September 2010 Updated on 9 May 2021 This fanwork is complete.
Five Things That Never Happened to Sauron
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Lies in Eregion (143 words without "u")
From the height of the stone city walls, Annatar watched two large birds of prey circling majestically above the plains. The cool breeze played with the loose strands of his hair, making them writhe like dark snakes.
‘I remember the eagles of Manwë bringing me tidings from my beloved Aman when I travelled in the east,’ he spoke pensively to his companion. ‘Once, one of them bore me on his back all the way from the Great Sea, to where Eönwë the Maia lived after the War of the Jewels.’
‘The Herald?’ Celebrimbor regarded his companion warily. ‘I last saw him when Mandos spoke the Doom of the North.’ He shivered.
‘A long time ago, we called each other friends,’ replied Annatar. A hint of sadness crossed his fair face and he shook his head. ‘No longer. I belong to the Gwaith-i-Mírdain now.’
Folly at the Sammath Naur (132 words without "i")
Sauron stared at the small band of gold that gleamed on the table, no more than a harmless jewel to those who knew not the truth about the power he had conjured and poured for days. When all had been done, he had staggered, weak and exhausted from the effort.
Dared the Dark Lord be cloven from the enormous potency he had crafted to sway and rule lesser creatures? Dared he separate power born before the remote days of the Song from the command of one’s purpose and thought?
What utter folly, to have ever contemplated such a plan!
A moment later, the round metal band was flung away and fell down to be melted by the stream of lava. Sauron drank back all the power he had ceded.
All was well.
Misjudgement in Umbar (120 words without "o")
‘A snake must be crushed if it may still bite. A wise strategist like Annatar surely agrees with me that this may be an inevitable measure when handling a vanquished enemy?’ The King smiled wickedly.
His retinue laughed heartily at the jest, while the chained man held kneeling at his feet by the guards snarled in harmless fury. Never had Annatar’s carefully crafted plans failed as utterly as this time.
The reward was rich; the risk had seemed acceptable. He had surrendered near Umbar, safe in the belief that the king might humiliate him but never kill him.
He briefly felt pain when the axe split his carnal shape. Freed, he flew away, a dark spirit wrathfully swearing revenge.
Victory for Mirkwood (113 words without "a")
The King of Mirkwood whispered hot words of desire, while he nibbled soft, flushed skin. He smiled mischievously when he felt his helpless lover, bound by the wrists to the bedposts, squirm deliciously under his touch. His fingers moved lower until they found keen, stirring flesh. Spurred by the wild eyes, by the incoherent cries of his prisoner, he bent down to first kiss, then devour his prize. Suddenly, he stopped.
‘More!’ yelled his helpless victim.
‘Do you yield?’ queried the king sternly.
‘I do, I do! Dol Guldur is yours, O King…’ conceded the sorcerer.
Oropher’s son renewed his efforts. ‘Slowly,’ he reminded himself, smiling secretly.
No, he would not rush victory.
Call to Aman (128 words without "e")
‘Will you go, Mairon?’ you ask anxiously.
Will I? I doubt it, but…
Long ago, Moringotto was a fair lord, a light dazzling as stars, an alluring song of shrill chords within our grand music. I sang with him, happy and proud, until I found I had sunk into a foul abyss far from joy, and my wish was to bring back my past.
War was fought and lost, my lord struck down by yours. All I hold now is my wisdom, dark as it may look to you, my kin of old.
You bid that I go to Aman and ask for pardon, that I throw away all that I built, abandon what I fought for, right or wrong.
Do I wish to do that?
‘I will.’
Chapter End Notes
For any cryptography geeks amongst you (I count myself as one), these are the vowel frequencies in The Silmarillion (ignoring accent symbols): E (13.08%) A (8.40%) O (7.59%) I (5.75%) U (2.43%).
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