The Lords that Fell by Taylor17387

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The King in the Tower of Wolves

This story is a continuation of my other fic, "The Burnt God", and it 's better to read it after that. However, for those of you that haven't read it, I explain some references to the previous fic in the end notes.
There's slash in this first chapter, but this won't be exactly a slash fic. In next ones it will be rather secondary.
As for chronology of events (i.e. Melkor's battle with Fingolfin after the conquest of Minas Tirith), I'm following the one from the Grey Annals, instead of the one in the Silmarillion.

Warning: This chapter is dark. It features non-con and death.
Having said that, read and enjoy, and review! :)

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THE LORDS THAT FELL

The King in the Tower of Wolves

In Wizard’s Isle still lay forgot,
enmeshed and tortured in that grot
cold, evil, doorless, without light,
and blank-eyed stared at endless night
two comrades. Now alone they were.
The others lived no more, but bare
their broken bones would lie and tell
how ten had served their master well

-The Lay of Leithian: Canto IX.

 

In the fortress built on the island of the river Sirion, now called the Isle of Werewolves, the howling of the wolves had become still for a moment. Sauron knew what that meant: the beasts were feasting on another of the, at first, twelve prisoners who had been captured recently. That band of outlaws had been a little entertainment during the last few days, and certainly the subjects thst formed it were not at all conventional. Eleven Elves and a man with tormented visage, all disguised as Orcs. One didn’t find such a thing in the forest on a daily basis.
Sauron reached across the huge table covered with maps and plans, where he used to work every time he retreated into his turret, and took a list of names from among the papers. Upon crossing out the name of the latest victim, he realized that only two prisoners remained still: the man and the Elf who, he suspected, headed the mission. All the others had preferred to die rather than betraying their lord.

”Very noble for their part. And very coward for the part of their lord, who would see them turn into carrion for wolves, rather than telling the truth once and for all.” -he thought, with a smirk of scorn.

Anyway, the underlings didn’t matter. The next to die would be that disheveled human, with whom the Elven lord seemed to maintain a close relationship. And if, even upon seeing the death of his friend, protegé, lover or whatever he was, he still didn’t budge an inch, then he would make him talk through more sophisticated and persuasive methods. Sauron took the plan of a new information-gathering machine on which he was working, but he quickly put it aside with a sigh.
The truth was that he got bored. He had been bored for the past ten years that he had spent in that tower. Yes, of course it was nice to be the absolute master of the river Sirion, and have all the fortress at his disposal, and a good garrison of werewolves to terrorize the surrounding areas. But without Melkor by his side it was boring and dull.
He had not seen his master since the battle that broke the siege of Angband, the battle that Elves called “of Sudden Flame”. Of course, it had been finally the fire dragons who had put a remedy to the plight and had destroyed the camp of the Noldor. The original idea had been of Glaurung, however, so he couldn’t boast about the success too much either.
This was followed by the assault and capture of the fortress of Minas Tirith, that had been postponed for too many years already. The horrified face of Orodreth when Sauron stood in front of him and took again the maiden shape with which he had seduced him, was one of the fondest memories of the lieutenant.

”Do you want to kiss me now?” –he had asked mockingly, and the stupid Elf had become so stunned, that he barely managed to escape alive from the skirmish.

He hadn’t been the lord of the isle for too long, when he received news about a duel in which Melkor himself had confronted Fingolfin. At first it seemed very strange to him that his master had agreed to such a thing, since the Vala wasn’t fond of hand to hand combats, and no doubt he had only done it reluctantly and out of shame. The official emissaries informed him of a glorious and overwhelming victory of his master over the insolent king of the Noldor. But he had also heard rumours among the messenger crows, whispered rumours, that spoke of the serious wounds and injuries that the battle had left in the body of Melkor.
Sauron had worried then, and had wanted to return to Angband, but the opportunity never arose. And the Vala didn’t want to receive him in the fortress either. Every time he sent messages asking to see him, his lord gave him excuses and told him to take care of the fortress for the time being and that he would see him in the future. All this only served to increase his anxiety.
Not even through his human servant, who had remained in Angband following Melkor's orders, and occasionally visited the tower, he could find out what had exactly happened. The man had seemed very nervous when adressing the subject, and Sauron suspected that he was afraid that, somehow, Melkor discovered that he had spoken too much.
He wasn’t sure if they were treating his Shadow properly during his absence. It was true that he was always reluctant to return to Angband, and remained in the tower more time than was strictly necessary. But if they had ever tormented him, his servant never told him.
Apart from that, the years in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the Isle of Werewolves, were years of tedium. There was little movement in the realms of the Noldor, and Sauron's main concern at that time was to locate two men named Húrin and Huor, who, according to spies, knew the entrance to a secret city of the Elves. But no matter how many troops deployed the lieutenant over every corner of Beleriand, and no matter how much he examined the maps in search of some unexplored place, the two elusive humans escaped him again and again.
Perhaps the prisoners that he had in the dungeons right now knew about this hidden realm. And if he, at least, found out something, he would have an excuse to turn up in Angband and see Melkor once more.
Melkor ... He had been ten years separated from Melkor. For some reason, since he had intimated with him, his absence seemed unbearable. It was as if suddenly, something that he had never before needed, the physical contact, had become essential to live.
Sauron closed his eyes and recreated in his mind the last encounter of that kind that he had with his lord. Just after the Battle of Sudden Flame, Melkor had called him to the throne room to speak with him alone. The lieutenant still smelled of sulfur, and of scorched flesh, and of Elven blood, and the Vala's eyes had gleamed with unmistakable lust. Then Sauron, still aroused by the ardour of the battle and the taste of victory, had seized him with abrupt passion, had turned him to face the wall, had lifted his robe, and had taken him on the spot, with the same violence with which he had taken the enemy camp. And Melkor had screamed with pleasure, and the lieutenant had felt his desire: burning, desperate, sincere.
How he loved him then! And how submissively had surrendered the Vala to him! With that complete and unapologetic submission, with which only surrender those who know they’re infinitely superior.
Still with his eyes closed, Sauron licked his fangs, indulging in those delicious images, and smiled at the memory of how, after the encounter, Melkor had chosen not to sit on the throne for a few days, and had got angered with anyone who dared to ask for the reason of this.
Why couldn’t he be in Angband with his lord now? He missed his skin, his flesh, his smell, his half-whispered words...
And it was Melkor’s fault, for turning him into a slave to base passions. He wasn’t like that before, he didn’t waste his time with such trivialities before. And now he wasn’t just tormented by desire, but on top of that, he also had no way to satisfy it with anyone. In the tower there were only Orcs, werewolves or even worse creatures, and none of them seemed an acceptable partner to him.
Once again, the lieutenant felt an annoying heat and a familiar strain between his legs at the thought of his master. But after all, he was alone in the turret and had nothing to do. Thus, with a resigned sigh, he unbuttoned his trousers and slid his hand under the fabric.
Just in that moment the door to the turret opened wide, and the vampire Thuringwethil burst in stumbling. Sauron started and immediately removed his hand from where he had it.
Thuringwethil was drunk with blood as usual, and approached him with uncertain steps, but not before pouring a few drops of the red fluid of her glass on the luxurious carpet, brought by Orodreth from Valinor.

There were few beings in Arda that irritated the lieutenant as much as Thuringwethil the vampire. When she wasn’t fighting with quarrelsome Orcs or gossiping and spreading false rumours, she was stuffing herself with the blood of others until losing consciousness. And in this aspect she wasn’t prejudiced when drinking: she didn’t care whether she bit the neck of an Orc, a horse, a werewolf or an Elf. If he wasn’t his superior, Sauron was sure that she would try to bite him as well.

“Cursed be the day that I happened to use her name!” –regreted the Maia.

And fixing his eye of fire on the creature, with obvious hatred, he wished he could make her go up in flames with his stare.

-Sir, Sauron, sir. I just saw something very curious. -proclaimed the vampire with her shrill voice, as she leaned on the maps and drawings with not much ceremony.

-If you had entered just a few minutes later, I assure you that you would have seen something even more curious. -muttered the lieutenant under his breath, without averting his murderous eyes from her.

-About that I know nothing, sir, but listen. I was flying over the North of the Brethil forest, when I saw a shadow running at high speed. It was getting dark, so I've descended a little to see who it was. And dost thou know who it was? Guess it, sir.

Sauron snorted in disgust. The last thing he was thinking about then was playing riddles.

-How should I know? Oromë riding under the moonlight as in the old days?

-No, sir, not that. -obviously, the vampire had not caught the sarcasm. – It was... Attention, sir: it was a maiden, a maiden riding a huge dog! And she was wrapped in a very strange cloak, very dark, blacker than night itself, as black as that spider that almost ate the master Melkor ... What was her name? Unog... Unga ...

-Stick to the subject, will you?! -Thuringwethil was startled, and dropped some blood on the lieutenant’s papers.

-Yes, Sauron sir, yes. As I said, she was wrapped in a cloak of darkness. It seemed like a good catch to me, so I swooped to attack her. But one end of her cloak touched my eyes, and then I felt an overwhelming drowsiness and fell asleep instantly.

-That would be because you had drunk too much, as always.

-No, lord Sauron, no! I promise thee that...

-Silence! I cannot believe that you had bothered me just to tell me that stupidity. What do I care about maidens who go for a walk with their dogs? Come back when you see the host of the Valar blowing the trumpets of the last day! –growled the Maia, trying to clean the stained maps, without much success. Thereafter, the Blue Mountains would no longer be blue, but red.

-But my lord Sauron, shouldn’t we send a patrol of scouts? The maiden seemed to ride towards here.

-Well, then if she appears in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, I’ll lock her with the other prisoners and the wolves will have a more tender flesh to enjoy. That's it.

Thuringwethil frowned, and leaned a little more over the lieutenant.

-Why art thou so upset, sir? I don’t think that bringing thee this information is so annoying. After all, what wert thou doing?

Sauron turned to her slowly, barely containing the urge to grab her by the neck and throw her out the window, so she made a late night flight.

-Look Thuringwethil, I’m going to be very direct and blunt, because I suspect that will be the quickest way for you to leave me alone: Before you entered in my turret like a whirlwind to tell me about your ridiculous maidens and dogs, I was trying to give me pleasure. I’m not sure if you understand...

The vampire made a gesture of indifference with one of her membranous wings.

-Yes, of course I understand. I spend much time surrounded by Orcs and see the things they do; I know what that means.

But even so, the intruder stood there, impassive, calmly sipping plasma from her glass. Sauron raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

-I think I was too subtle before. What I want is that you clear off!! -he roared, and Thuringwethil almost dropped the whole drink out of fright.

-All right, sir, I’ll leave if thou needst to concentrate so much to do something so simple. But I don’t understand why thou preferst to touch thyself, when thou hast in the dungeons two prisoners at thy complete disposal.

-The prisoners? They are inferior beings! Maybe an eyesore like you is willing to stoop to that level, but I have dignity!

-Oh, lord Sauron! But the Elf is quite beautiful, isn’t he? And didn’t take the Valar and Maiar their appearances on the basis of the looks of the children of Eru? -Thuringwethil winked at him with malice, and put one of her nauseating wings around the lieutenant's shoulders, as if to speak with him in confidence.- I know that they can’t be compared with the master Melkor, but after all, the master is not here and they are. That is a point in their favour, isn’t it? And thou wilst not believe that Melkor had no other bed partners during these ten years that thou hast been away from him, right?

The idea fell over Sauron like a bucket of cold water. Until then that possibility hadn’t crossed his mind, not even for a second, but now that it had, he felt a sensation of terrible discomfort and pain in his chest. In vain he tried to convince himself that jealousy was a ridiculous feeling, typical of women, and that Melkor was a Vala and had the right to be completely free in his decisions. Nonetheless, he felt jealous. Melkor had the power to make him feel jealous, him, Sauron, the lieutenant of Angband, the coldest and most rational of all the Ainur! ...
How he hated him for it then!

-What my lord Melkor may do or not do with his body is not my concern. -replied the lieutenant with hurt pride.

The blackish teeth of the vampire were discovered in a wicked smile beside his face. Her breath reeked of coagulated blood and meat scraps.

-What thou dost with thy body isn’t the concern of the lord Melkor either. I just tell thee for thy own sake, nothing more. Other than that, my lord ... Sometimes one can obtain more information in the bed than in the torture chamber. Think about it.

With that said, the vampire got up and left the turret swaying and humming an obscene song under her breath. The lieutenant was left staring blankly at the void, in front of the plans but without seeing the plans, torn between reason, desire and heartbreak.
Night had fallen outside, and the wolves howled again.

At about midnight, the door of the dungeon opened, and a figure with cape and riding boots was cut in the doorway. The two prisoners slept huddled in a corner, shivering with cold and tightly embraced. It was a fraternal embrace, the embrace of the soldier and his comrade who know they will die the next morning an uncertain death, and thus extend their farewell during the whole night.
Sauron told the Orcs that accompanied him to separate the Elf without waking the man, and to bring him to his presence. The creature was beautiful, with hair between blond and silvery, and eyes the colour of aquamarine . But he was gaunt, haggard, dirty and disheveled.
The man, though also attractive, looked even worse.
Sauron drove the Elf outside the cell and brought him into the refined bathroom that had belonged to Orodreth. He signaled the bathtub and ordered him to spruce, to wash himself thoroughly and to comb his hair. From a closet in the bedroom he brought a embroidered silk tunic that had also belonged to the former lord of the tower, and left it folded on a stool, so that after bathing, the Elf got dressed with it and dismissed the foul-smelling rags with which he was covered.
After that Sauron left the bathroom to let him privacy, and put two sentinels at the door in case the prisoner still harboured hopes of escaping.

An hour later the Elf appeared in the main dining room, where the lieutenant was already waiting for him at the table. It was amazing how a simple bath and change of dress had transformed the prison rat into a dignified lord. Sauron recognized at once the nobility and demeanor of the Noldor in his figure. However, the Elf looked confused and frightened by the strange circumstances. The table was covered with viands served on porcelain plates, and the crystal goblets, adorned with gold and silver filigree, were full of sweet wine.

-Sit down. I've been waiting for you. -said the Maia with a smile of charming evil, and moved backwards the chair at the left of the head, where he sat.
The Elf sat down reluctantly and looked at the freshly prepared food, the closest to a real meal that he had seen in a long time. In fact, it had a quite nice appearance and smell.

-Help yourself, you must be hungry. The Orcs can be good cooks if one hits them enough to convince them to be so. Usually I don’t eat much, as you see. It's not something I’m used to. –continued Sauron, taking one of the wineglasses to his lips.

The Elf hesitated for a second, but soon realized that the lieutenant wasn’t going to take so much trouble to poison him when he could kill him at any time more quickly. He then served himself with a piece of roast venison.

-Forgive me, sir, if I ask thee for the reason of all this courtesy towards me.

-Oh, my dear nameless Elf! All in good time. For now, let's say that I'm feeling generous tonight and have more desire of favours than of torments.

-Favours for me or favours for thee? –asked the Elf, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

The Maia extended his arm across the table and stroked the back of his guest’s hand. The coldness of his touch, and the dim gleam of his right eye, caused him a shiver.

-Favours for both of us. You give me something and I give you something. Although I think that, in comparison, you will stand to gain. A night of respite before returning to your cell and to the darkness. You should feel fortunate.

The Elf had trouble swallowing the piece of meat in his mouth, and felt relieved when the hand of the lieutenant moved away from his.
Sauron let him dine in peace, merely observing him in silence as he drank his wine and licked his lips from time to time. Under the light of the candles, the Elf's face seemed even paler and sadder, but behind that facade of delicate shyness still could be guessed the strength and determination that had once characterized him.
The Elf ate less than what would have been expected, and barely tasted the wine.

-That tunic really suits you well. It almost seems as it was made for you. –said the lieutenant casually, while the guest finished his dinner. The Elf looked up with an expression of surprise and astonishment, and the Maia laughed:- But of course you are very beautiful, it’s just natural that anything suits you well. You are a Noldo, no doubt. The Wood-elves could never have such a grace. However, the colour of your hair ... You have blood from the Vanyar, or perhaps from the Sindar, am I right?

-I do not want to discuss my origins now, please lord Sauron. -he muttered, looking down.

-It's true, where are my manners? This is not an interrogation, but a relaxed evening. Nonetheless, I suppose we could talk about subjects more intimate, or sentimental, don’t you think? Tell me Elf, are you married?

-No, I'm not. I left my fiancée in Eldamar before coming to Middle Earth, and I could never marry her. -he confessed, his voice breaking.

-Such a pity. Then I guess you will have many lovers, right? Young maidens. Young boys, maybe?

The Elf blushed and shook his head, not daring to look at his interlocutor.

-No. I never had any lover.

-What a shame! -exclaimed the lieutenant with false compassion.- Am I to assume then that you have not shared a bed with anyone since the journey of the Noldor? How long ago was that, five hundred years? That's a long time even for an Eldar. It’s quite sad that so far you have only known the favours of your fiancée.

For Sauron, that idea made the Elf seem even more desirable, and he licked his fang suggestively. But the embarrassed blush of the Elf turned into a blush of indignation upon hearing this.

-What favours art thou talking about? My fiancée was a decent lady, I’d never have dishonoured her that way! I told thee already that we weren’t married.

Sauron smiled with effrontery.

-I don’t know what has to do marriage with honour and pleasure. Frankly, the laws of the Eldar seem indecipherable for me. But it’s a waste that nobody has touched you so far. A being so beautiful should not wither without having enjoyed himself at least once. However, you are very lucky, Elf: tonight you will finally know those pleasures, and you will do it through a Maia, of the holy race of the Ainur. Don’t you feel flattered?

The Elf was paralyzed then, and his aquamarine eyes opened wide in disbelief and horror. An icy stream run down his spine, and he shrunk in his seat shivering.

-Thou and I? No, please ... I ... I ... I thank thee, sir, but I can’t. It's not right, we shouldn’t...

-Why not? Because I’m the lieutenant of Angband, at the service of the Dark Lord? You have accepted my food and kindness without hesitation, why would you not want to accept as well the pleasure I can give you? -Sauron caressed his neck and felt every muscle of the Elf tensing under his fingers.- Or is it because we are of different races, that's what scares you? Don’t worry, there’s nothing in the laws of Eru that prevents the Ainur from mating with the Firstborn. Remember Melian and Thingol.

-That's different. Melian and Thingol love and respect each other.

Sauron laughed.

-They love each other? Poor creature! I know Melian very well, I knew her from the beginning of time, in Valinor. She’s a fickle and manipulative being, like all females. She bewitched the king of the Sindar with sorcery, she subdued him and pulled him away from his people and his family. And all because she took a fancy to his beauty, because she wanted to satisfy her lust with an inferior being that she could easily master, even if from the background. Does that seem as love to you? To me it seems more like an abduction. Ye are nothing but toys for the gods. But at least I'm honest about it, and I can treat my toys very well when I decide so...

The Elf tried to escape the touch of frost that slid across his neck’s skin, but he was unsuccessful.

-What thou sayst is not true. And I would like that thou didst not slander king Thingol and his queen that way.

-Why not, perhaps you know them? Are they friends of yours? Maybe ... distant relatives?

The Elf did not answer that, and stayed inhibited and resigned under the caresses.

-You have barely drunk wine, and that's not right. Although I recognize that the wine for dinner wasn’t too good. –continued Sauron, changing the subject. And rising from the table, he went to the walnut cabinet where they kept the bottles. He took two of them, along with two goblets encrusted with gems, which he placed on the table in front of his chair.- This wine is much stronger, and it will raise your spirits for later. –he said while he poured the contents of each bottle in each goblet.

One of the glasses showed the emblem of two snakes with emerald eyes, and in this he served the fragrant wine from the first bottle. The other glass was decorated with a lion of rubies, and this, to the horror of the Elf, he filled with the black blood that flowed from the second bottle.

-I want you to choose one of the glasses and drink it whole. Do me that favour, as the guest you are. If not, you will offend me. Well, what glass do you prefer?

The Elf signaled the glass of wine, frightened, but the lieutenant pretended not to understand and pushed towards him the glass filled with reeking blood.

-No, not that, please. The other.

-Which other?

-The one that contains the wine.

-Both contain wine, my dear friend.

-I mean the glass with the snakes.

-Ah! The glass with the snakes ... -the Maia brought him the correct goblet, and the candle flames danced in his eye of fire creating an unsettling effect. The Elf had no choice but to drink the whole glass before the watchful stare of his captor. – Do you know? I have the impression of having already dined at this same table with you. And if not with you, at least with someone who looked a lot like you. -the trembling of the Elf’s hand as he drained the wine didn’t escape the attention of Sauron. Then the lieutenant looked at his own glass and feigned disgust:- Humm! I think I made a mistake. This is not wine, but the filthy blood of Thuringwethil. Well, no more drinking for me. This happens for letting you choose, I'm too courteus. And by the way, how did you know that the glass had the emblem of a snake? I’m convinced that the figures have been looking towards me all the time. Tell me, have you been in this tower before?

The emerald glass resounded with a clang when the Elf dropped it on the cutlery. He had turned pale, and his lower lip trembled.

-I... I do not ...

-Yes, and there’s another very curious thing too. Those emerald snakes closely resemble the emblem of the ring that your human companion wears. Maybe you gave it to him, isn’t it, my dear friend?

The smile of the lieutenant, glimmering in the half light, caused him more terror because of its evil kindness. In that moment, the Elf tried to leave the table. But Sauron quickly moved his chair closer and held him in place, while he put his arms around his waist and began to kiss his neck lasciviously.

-What are you afraid of, huh? I’m not going to hurt you, so stop resisting my advances. Dying a virgin is nothing honourable, and trust me: you will die in this tower. You won’t see your beloved lady again. Never. So why refuse to pleasure? I just ask you to keep me company tonight. The full moon makes my blood boil, and I feel very lonely, very aroused. Give me what I want and I'll do you anything you ask me, I, a Maia, will let you do with me as you please. I’m a fair and generous lover. -and as he whispered this in his ear, he moved his hand up the prisoner's thigh and began to stroke him between the legs.

The Elf struggled, seized by panic and humiliation, but his strength was useless against the Ainu.

-Please, lord Sauron. I never asked for this privilege. Let me go, bring me back to my cell, where I’ll willingly face my destiny, even if it should be death. I’m not of any use for this.

-Yes, yes you are! -sighed the lieutenant, and grabbing the Elf's hand, he placed it on his own crotch and forced him to stroke him as well.

The strain he felt was getting too intense, and the animal instinct was starting to blur his reason already.
Unable to endure it one more second, he took the Elf in his arms and brought him to the main bedroom of the tower. There he threw him on the bed and opened his tunic with a sudden tug. The golden hair of his pubis glinted under the light of the oil lamps, and the Maia lay down on him and began to cover him with kisses and slight bites, desperately furious.

-Ten years, Melkor, ten years. Why did you leave me alone? -he muttered, before turning all his attentions to the member of the Elf.

It was comforting: that feeling of giving pleasure to someone again, and see him squirm and hear him moan. It made him feel alive.
However, he soon realized that the Elf rather squirmed in agony than in ecstasy, and that his moans were more like sobs.
Frustrated, Sauron tried other techniques with him, but nothing seemed to work, and finally he gave up.

-Damned frigid Elf! What’s the problem with you? If I wanted to see you crying, I would have put you in the torture room, not in my bed. This doesn’t satisfy me, and I don’t understand how you cannot enjoy yourself with all these things I’m doing. My lord Melkor is a Vala and he becomes literally crazy when I make him love. Do you think you are better than him?

The Elf had his face hidden in the crook of his elbow to hide the tears, and had contracted his legs in shame.

-Dost thou ... Dost thou do this to thy lord and he likes it? Morgoth is a pervert... And a harlot. –he muttered with faltering voice.

Sauron was perplexed by such an insolent affront.

-What are you saying!?

-Ask in Valinor, ask in the halls of Mandos.

The lieutenant stood up from the bed, furious. Not only was he consumed with unfulfilled lust, but now he also had to listen to a prisoner insulting his lord.

-Very well, I won’t waste my time with you any second longer. You will return to your cell, this time naked, and there you will spend your last night: dying of cold when you could be enjoying yourself in the arms of a Maia. –he sentenced with curtness. - I'll go find your companion, that man, and I will give him the favours that you despise. Surely he will not reject them.

Upon hearing this, the Elf lifted his head and stared at the lieutenant, as if in hesitation. Seeing that he didn’t move out of bed, Sauron grabbed his arm, ready to drag him if it was necessary. But to his surprise, the Elf stroked his hand, and the blue of his eyes trembled with regret.

-No, please, lord Sauron, don’t bring me back to the cell. I was a fool, I’m sorry. But I changed my mind. Let me be the one to keep thee company tonight, I promise I won’t complain anymore. I was nervous and embarrassed, that's all. Please understand that this is the first time someone touches me in this way. But I don’t want to die a virgin! Please give me another chance.

Before Sauron had time to reflect on the sincerity or hypocrisy of the Elf, he was already kissing him with apparent desire, while undressing him without qualms. And when he felt the prisoner's mouth closing around his swollen and pleading member, the lieutenant just stopped caring about everything else. The dignified and snooty lord of the Noldor, who only moments ago had been offended by the implication of having slept with his fiancée before marriage, opened then to the Maia without shame, and allowed him to take his body completely.
Sauron moaned at the feeling of fullness that seized him, and with his eyes closed, he tried to imagine that he was inside his lord again.
But the illusion was broken soon: the Elf was too weak, and cold, and blond to be taken for his master. However, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy him as well.

-Dos you like this? -he whispered, as he entered and left his body slowly. And leaning over his ear, he added with a grin:- Do you like this, Finrod Felagund? That I do this to you in your own bed, in the same tower in which you were once lord? Tomorrow you will tell me all about Nargothrond and your current mission. But tonight enjoy yourself, just enjoy yourself, king of the Noldor.

Sauron licked his neck, and Finrod closed his eyes in pain.
Besides the river, the wolves were howling madly.

Upon finishing, the lieutenant panted exhausted and the Elf shook from top to bottom, still confused by the new sensations. The Maia put his arm around him and pressed him against his body, while drowsiness began to make way through his head.

-Please, lord Sauron. Could I return now to my cell? –muttered Finrod shyly.

-Mmm ... No, stay here for now. Perhaps my appetite will wake up again during the night. Ah! And don’t try to escape, the door of the room is locked with a spell.

In the darkness of the alcove, and before giving himself to restorative sleep, the lieutenant heard the Elf sobbing softly.

-What happens to you? -he murmured apathetic.- I made you climax more times than I could count. I don’t think you have reasons to cry.

Finrod's voice reached him from far away, half sunk into unconsciousness as he was already:

-Oh, lord lieutenant of Angband! Thou art very sharp for some things. I'm surprised that thou art so incredibly obtuse for others.

The next morning, Sauron awoke with a strange feeling of coldness under his arm. Finrod was pale and lethargic, and his breathing was so faint that at first he believed him dead. He shook him to wake him up but the Elf didn’t react. Confused, the lieutenant broke the spell that held the door shut, and called out the sentinel Orcs. After a few seconds, a couple of them appeared at the doorway and blinked dumbfounded at the scene they found inside.

-What is going on here!? This Elf appears to be dying, and I had to interrogate him today! What did ye put in his dinner last night!? -he shouted enraged.

The Orcs shrugged.

-My lord, we didn’t put any poison in his food, we swear. What happens is that these Elves sometimes get very sick and die when ...-the Orcs exchanged uneasy glances.- ... when ... thou knowest ... when they are abused.

The lieutenant froze, and looked alternatively at Finrod and the Orcs, as if waiting for an explanation.

-But I haven’t ... I haven’t abused him, damn it! Do ye think that I’m like you, filthy worms without honour? I don’t need to abuse anyone!

The Orcs looked down with shyness.
Sauron didn’t understand. The Elf had surrendered to him of his own free will, he hadn’t forced him. It was true that he had seduced him, indeed, and it was true that the prisoner had been reluctant at first. But ultimately, it was Finrod who had decided to stay at his side, and had kissed him, and had given him pleasure willingly! That could only be a morbid joke, a ruse to escape the interrogation.
Suddenly the Maia felt a great discomfort in his stomach, and disgust, and shame. For the dying Elf that lay next to him, and for the Orcs in the doorway, and perhaps also for himself, for what he had done led by the most ignoble passions.

-Take him out of my sight! Dress him with the remainder of this tunic and bring him to his cell. -he commanded, without even turning to look at him.

Later during that day, he went down to the dungeon to see if the Noldo had recovered enough to carry out the interrogation.
He found him conscious, but very weak. The human held him in his arms and stroked his hair gently as tears slipped over his head. Upon hearing the creak of the prison’s door, Finrod raised his eyes, but their blue colour had faded and become glassy.

-Monster!! What have you done!? -shouted the man infuriated, when he found himself face to face with the lieutenant. He made a vain attempt to get rid of his chains to leap on him.

Sauron couldn’t help being impressed by the ferocity of the man, by his eyes and face, reddened by tears and anger, and by his apparent strength. That wasn’t an ordinary man, indeed.
Finrod lifted a hand slowly and touched the man’s face to calm him.

-There’s nothing wrong. Don’t worry. He may have sullied my body. But in no case can he touch my soul. At least I made him stay away from you. -said the Elf in an almost inaudible whisper.

The man broke down and redoubled his sobs.

-Tell me ... Tell me that it’s not true ... Tell me that he didn’t what I think he did ... Not even Morgoth would approve of such a baseness!

-I haven’t done anything! –snapped Sauron, increasingly uncomfortable. - It's his fault for being so frail and weak. And anyway, man, don’t cry too much for him, for he has little more to suffer in this life. I will take him away for the interrogation, and when I’ve extracted all the information I need, I will grant death to him and to you. And it will be the end of your miseries.

However, one of the Orc guards stopped him before he took the prisoner.

-My lord Sauron, he’s still too weak. If thou torturest him now, he will probably die before saying anything.

The lieutenant clenched his fists in annoyance. Nothing was more frustrating to him than having to postpone torture. But the Orc was right: if the Elf died, all his secrets would die with him. And after all, an immortal Maia could afford to be patient and wait a bit longer.

-I’ll come back later. And you will speak, Finrod Felagund. -he said simply.

And turning away with a fluttering movement of his cape, he slammed the cell door shut. And the prisoners were left in darkness again, trembling.

Throughout the day and evening, Sauron visited the prison regularly to see if Finrod was recovering, but he didn’t observe any improvement, and his impatience and irritation kept increasing. He would have liked to grab Thuringwethil and make her taste her own blood with the whip, to kill the idle time between visits, and to thank her for the great advice of sleeping with the Elf. Unfortunately, the vampire seemed to be gone from the tower, no doubt in search of another adventure.

Thus came the sunset. And the wolves began to howl with nervousness and, above all, hunger.
Outside the cell were heard the low footsteps of some boots going down the stairs towards the dungeon. They were the unmistakable footsteps of the lieutenant, but this time they were accompanied by other steps too, by the quiet and muffled steps of a four-legged creature.
When the door opened, two eyes glowing like coals peered through the doorway, waiting eagerly at the feet of their master, and the stench of blood filled the stale air of the prison.
It was a werewolf, and foam gushed out his mouth.

-I’ve decided to be merciful with you, Finrod, if just because of the night of pleasure that you gave me. –said Sauron, his mouth twisting wryly. - I'll give you the option to confess everything quickly and without pain, neither for you nor for your friend. Then I’ll let you go away and ye will live in peace what may be left of your miserable lives. This I promise you as the Maia I am, and in the name of my lord Melkor, the Mighty Arising. However, if in spite of all, you insist on being unreasonable and refusing to talk, then this friend of mine, -and he stroked the head of the monster- will carve up and devour your human friend before your own eyes. Be sensible, Finrod, among the virtues of kings is knowing how to reach diplomatic agreements that benefit all sides, isn’t it? And you love your comrade, true? He's important to you. You do not want to see him slit open while beasts feast on his intestines, am I right?

Upon this, the Elf hesitated for a moment, but soon realized that all options had been reduced to a single, unquestionable one, and lowering his head in defeat, he opened his mouth to confess. Sauron leaned forward expectantly. But once again, the man stood in his way:

-Don’t tell him anything, Finrod! Don’t you see that he's lying?

-But Beren, if I don’t, you ...!

-I don’t mind dying. And even less now, that I know I'll never see her again.

-Ye are making me lose my patience, speak it now!! –cried Sauron, and the werewolf yanked violently from the chain that restrained him, more enraged every time by the smell of fresh flesh.

-I must confess, Beren. I promised your father that I would look after you.

-My father is dead! And I'll be too soon, whether you talk or not. But think about her. If you reveal the plan you will put her in danger!

-I'm going to count to three, Finrod! –warned the Maia. The werewolf growled and drooled, and made another attempt at pouncing on them.

-It’s the only option, Beren. If I let them kill you, there will be no peace for my soul neither here nor in the halls of Mandos. Never again.

-One!

-And if you tell all, there will be no peace for me neither in this life nor in the next. Knowing that she has fallen into the clutches of Morgoth because of our cowardice.

-Two!

-I’m going to speak.

-No, you will not! -then the man closed the Elf’s mouth with his hand, and although he struggled, Finrod was unable to get rid of the gag in his weakened state.

-Three!! Farewell, Beren. Go now wherever men go upon death. -and saying this, the lieutenant let go the chain that held the beast, and he jumped on the human.

It all happened in a split second. The Elf, who until then was barely able to get off the ground, and therefore wasn’t chained, extracted a supernatural strenght from some secret corner of his being, from his last intact corner, and ran out to meet the monster.
To the astonishment of the man and the Maia, the two bodies intertwined in a confusion of teeth, torn limbs, claws, saliva, blood and shreds of clothing. The screams of the beast filled the cell with an unbearable roar, but at some point they ceased suddenly.
The wolf fell to the ground with a thud and his neck broken, and Finrod crawled toward his companion, leaving behind a trail of blood that signaled the end.
Collapsing on the arms of his faithful friend, he spent the little breath he had left to bid farewell in a whisper:

-Farewell Beren, son of Barahir. I tried to protect you as best as I could, and knowing that I die in peace. Maybe we'll meet once more. Though never again in this life. Farewell.

And thus he died.
Beren, blinded by tears and unable to utter a single word, just leaned over the corpse and kissed his forehead and his two closed eyelids.
The lieutenant was puzzled. He directed his gaze alternately to the motionless bulk of the beast, and to the two figures embraced, without fully understanding what had just happened.
Outside in the nearby forest, a nightingale began to trill in the twilight. And a song, sweeter, sadder and deeper than any that had been heard in Arda, neither in the melody of its winds, nor in the murmur of its groundwaters, entered the prison through the small window with the last rays of the dying Sun.
Sauron shuddered upon hearing the voice, and some primordial terror paralyzed him on the spot. Once he managed to overcome it, he ran to the window and looked out in search of the wraith that sang thus. But he only saw a maiden standing on the stone bridge that lead to the fortress, and a huge dog at her side, carrying a black bulk in his mouth.

-Lord of the tower! From now onwards, thou wouldst do well by listening more closely to thy spies. -cried the maiden in defiance, raising her arms. And the dog dropped on the floor the shapeless bulk: it was the skin and wings of Thuringwethil, who evidently had passed away.- Thy eye sees many things, but ignores those of us that seem insignificant. Someday that blindness will cause thy downfall.

---

Chapter End Notes

Notes:

-Sauron's human servant: One of the first men that Melkor took from Hildórien. He granted him a very long life, but also disfigured and mistreated him. Sauron took him under his wing and he turned into his most loyal servant. Known as the "Shadow of Sauron".

-Sauron and Orodreth: Before assaulting Minas Tirith, Sauron infiltrated the tower as a maiden (under the fake name of "Thuringwethil") to inspect the defenses. Ashamed of telling Melkor that he had turned into a woman to enter the tower, he simply told his master that Thuringwethil had done it. Thus Melkor asked him to make the vampire his second-in-command in the tower, in gratitude for her supposed spionage mission.