(the rings of) Power by just_jenni

Chapter 1

When he first came to my attention he was in appearance a bright elf, as fair as any I had ever laid my eyes upon. The most distinguishing feature was his brightness, for everything about him was shimmering pale - from his hair of soft gold, light amber eyes, skin of ivory and his raiment always of ivory silk shot with gold and silver threads. He told me his name was Annatar and that he was of the Avari but had broken ties with his people because he did not, as they did, prefer darkness over light. Nor, he said, did he love the hunt as did the forest dwellers, but his love for metalworking had driven him to Eregion, to meet me.

He told me that he had lived here for awhile and so loved this part of the world that his main desire was to make it as glorious as Valinor itself or even like the lands the Noldor and Sindar had made beautiful for themselves in Beleriand.

At first I was charmed by his attention and flattery.

He had appeared one morning in my smithy where I was hard at work creating some new type of jewelry. One of the dwarves from Hadhodrond had been helping me with the designs and had departed when Annatar appeared for the first time, stepping through the smithy door.

"Hello," he said almost shyly. "I hope I have not disturbed you." He spoke in a clear voice, the tone reminiscent of the peal of silvery bells that rang on parade days upon Taniquetil when I was a child. As soon as I heard his voice I was charmed.

And when I gazed upon him fully, taking in his entire presence, I was rendered speechless by his astonishing beauty.

Before I could speak any words at all he told me everything I wished to know - where he came from - a dark region of the forest near Doriath - that he was Sindarin but had no love for Elu Thingol and held no hatred for my people, saying that he had forgiven them long ago. He told me he desired to learn my craft and asked if he could be my apprentice. He flattered me by saying he had heard that I was the most skilled jewel-smith in Eregion.

I could not resist him. He seemed to know about everything that I loved as well as all my weaknesses. And over the period of the next many months he would make me his slave.

He began to seduce me soon after we met and began working together. On his first day in the smithy he removed most of his clothing until he was clad only in thin white leggings so tight that I could see the outline of every part of his sexually exaggerated, erotically irresistable body. I had already been perspiring heavily from standing close to the fire, so he could not see how the proximity of him to me was making me sweat more profusely. Unabashed, he leant over me, his golden hair teasing the back of my shoulder with its silky tendrils. His breath came in quick gasps and smelled like what was for me the most seductive of flowers - jasmine. I could not resist his advances and trembled helplessly under his touches.

It was not long before he would stand behind me with his body boldly pressed against mine while he watched me, and he would place his hands wherever he wanted - on my rump or reaching around to stroke my belly - then he worked his fingers below to stroke my inner thighs and crotch - until I rose again and again - moaning when I came and not caring if anyone outside heard me. But during those days and afterwards nobody came to the smithy anymore - not even the dwarves.

He would whisper words of encouragement in my ear - such sweet words spoken in a soft, sing-song voice that served to weaken my knees and melt away any inhibitions and last resistance that I might have possessed. We would fuck anywhere we wanted, impatient with lust. He made me insatiable - I did not know what had happened to the formerly chaste person I had been.

Lying on my back upon the work table I would let him strip me of my last bit of clothing and take me as hard as he could, my screams drowned out by the hiss and spark of the forge.

But when I eventually refused to do what he asked of me he changed, and the change was terrifying in the swiftness of it and its ferocity.

His form and appearance remained fair - but somehow more terrible - his hair would grow more white and billow out from his head to resemble a storm cloud tinged with leaden grey - it would threaten to spew lightning if he became very angry. From his eyes a fierce and horrifying glow would pierce the dark with a ghastly white-blue light. His entire body would tremble and he looked in that moment as if he was made of glass which threatened to shatter into brittle shards. This appearance was so different from the one he assumed when we first met and it badly frightened me.

After that, when I still refused to make certain things for him he began to do hurtful things to me. There was a back room in the smithy that nobody used. It was windowless, with walls made of thick stone. He must have crept in during the night and fashioned in it a number of terrible devices.

He began by chaining me by my wrists to the ceiling and by the ankles to the floor. Then he would turn a handle to activate a tightening of the chains until I was stretched as much as possible without breaking my bones. I screamed but no one came.

Sometimes he would leave me hanging from the ceiling and whip me with a lash made of leather strips, their ends knotted and embedded with sharpened diamonds. They cut into my flesh and made me scream until I fainted. Sometimes he would give me water to drink when I awoke but sometimes he would leave me alone all night, letting me wake on my own, parched and suffering.

He wanted me to make certain rings for him which he intended to imbue with the kind of sorcery that would make him more powerful than he was. At this time I realized that he was not an elf, not even of the Avari as he had told me, but something else, of sinister power and dark mind. I begged him to tell me where he really came from.

"Who are you?" I cried, my tears and blood running in rivulets down my face and chest, where he would use a hammer to punch small nails through my skin, into my flesh. He listened to my screams but he would never reveal to me his true persona.

If I gave in to him and did what he asked of me he would again become his seductive, beautiful self and make love to me. He would lick the blood from my puncture wounds then take me orally and bring me to exquisite climax, both painful and pleasurable at once.

Finally I caved in to one of his desires, having grown weak with no more resistance left in me. I helped him to make the Rings of Power. I hated myself for doing it. I was a tortured soul by then.

Once the rings were finished he went away for awhile, leaving me in peace and I recovered from my flesh wounds but I could never recover from the wounds that did not show.

During the time that he left me alone I took to going about during the day clad in dark robes and cloak, hiding myself from what I imagined were eyes that would judge me if they knew what I had done. But I craved the sun now and hated the darkness.

In the brightness of day I would visit friends that I knew and would go about with before Annatar came into my life. I tried to reconnect with them, to form friendships anew, because I had been left weak and afraid because of the trauma that had been done to me. I craved companionship of the normal kind.

But at night I would steal into the smithy to make rings of my own - three rings that I would never reveal to Annatar.

I intend to give these three to my friends as soon as they are finished, before anything happens to me.