For the Last Time by chrissystriped

For the Last Time

Read For the Last Time

When Thangorodrim was broken and Morgoth overthrown, Sauron put on his fair hue again and did obeisance to Eonwe, the herald of Manwe, and abjured all his evil deeds. And some hold that this was not at first falsely done, but that Sauron in truth repented, if only out of fear, being idsmayed by the fall of Morgoth and the great wrath of the Lords of the West. -- Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age

 

A grey cat was slinking around the tents, his fur blending in with dusk and the fine ash lying on everything. The foolish Feanorians, trying to steal those accursed gems back, had provided the perfect distraction for him to try to find his Master and see him one last time.

 

“Go!”, Melkor said, holding him as gently as he hadn’t done for years. “Run. Once they have me, they won’t hunt for you.”

“Come with me”, Mairon begged, clinging to him, not wanting to let him go. “Leave the Silmarils behind. Maybe they won’t follow us, once they have them.”

Melkor’s eyes flashed dangerously and he pushed him back.

“I will not give them up”, he hissed. “Go now. That’s an order.”

‘So you’d rather lose me than them?’, Mairon thought but didn’t say out loud.

It would only make his Master more furious – and he already knew the answer, had known for a while, that the damned stones had become the most important things in Melkor’s life.

 

Mairon had no idea where they’d taken his Master to, but he guessed he’d be in the middle of the camp, close to the leaders’ tents and where the Silmarils were guarded. He stuck his furry head under a tentflap and looked around, listening for people coming with one ear.

Melkor wasn’t here so he quickly moved to the next tent in the row. There were no guards, everyone had run to intercept the Feanorians, maybe he’d be even able to get him out...

He couldn’t bear to think about being parted from Melkor, that was the only reason he’d defied his order to run and came back here. Eru knew what the Valar would do to his Master!

A large hand closed around his neck and lifted him up by his scruff. Mairon hissed at the Maia holding him up.

“Mairon”, Eonwe sighed, “What are you doing here?”

If Eonwe was back, the business with the Feanorians must have been resolved. He looked tired, as if it hadn’t went well, and against his will Mairon felt a tenderness grip his heart. They’d been close, a long time ago – before he’d gotten to know Melkor.

He changed his shape, Eonwe’s hand tangling in fiery hair instead of grey cat’s fur. Mairon shivered slightly, a spark of pleasure shooting through his body when Eonwe tugged on his hair and berated himself for it. He shouldn’t feel like that! But he saw the same emotions he was trying to push away in Eonwe’s eyes and maybe...

“I missed you”, he said, allowing his longing to shine in his eyes and moving his naked body seductively.

Eonwe’s hand slid down and came to rest on his neck, warm and calloused, Marion felt goose-bumps race up his spine.

“You chose to leave”, Eonwe said, his voice breaking slightly, before he continued more firmly: “You chose your path and I now take you into custody, Mairon. You will be tried and sentenced for your misdeeds.”

“Misdeeds!” Mairon huffed contemptuously, but what he felt was the same ache he’d felt when he’d realised he’d never be able to convince Eonwe to come with him. “They clipped your feathers and you didn’t even notice it”, he said soflty. “You are happy flapping your wings in your gilded cage for the amusement of the Valar. Oh, what you could have been, if you’d let yourself be free!”

Eonwe was the strongest of arms among the Ainur, they could have used him in their fight. They sky would have been theirs a long time ago. Mairon’s heart clenched at the thought of Ancalagon’s broken body in the ruins of Thangorodrim.

“Freedom does not mean to fulfil your desires at the expense of others!”

Eonwe’s eyes flashed and he shook him a little, but his grip eased when Mairon laid his hand on his chest.

“Let’s not fight”, Mairon whispered, moving closer. “I’m here now and I ask your forgiveness.”

“Oh, Mairon.”

Eonwe gently caressed his cheek and Mairon’s eyes fluttered shut. It felt so good, being touched so gently. His Master had been so angry with the world and anyone in it during the war – no, since he’d brought home these damned jewels!

Mairon wished, he’d never taken them, maybe then they’d be together now instead of him being alone and not sure anymore if he was telling Eonwe a lie to get a chance to see his Master or if he meant what he said.

He couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the hand, stroking his cheek, his neck, his lips. He sighed softly when Eonwe’s lips met his in a feather-light kiss and clung to his strong arms, deepening it desperately. Eonwe stopped him by cupping his face between his hands.

“We shouldn’t”, he gasped. “I shouldn’t. You are my prisoner.” 

‘Am I?’, a part of Mairon thought with amusement. ‘I think, you’d let me go, if I decided to leave now.’

But that other, newly woken up part of him didn’t want to leave. He ached for Eonwe’s hands on him, his tender lips on his skin, his cock... Mairon shook himself. No! He was doing this to get to Melkor. He was bribing Eonwe with is body, so he’d let him see him.

His heart didn’t beat quicker at the gentle light in Eonwe’s eyes. His body didn’t shiver with longing at the touch of Eonwe’s hands. He was just playing this!

“Please”, he whispered. “I missed you so much, Eonwe. Let me be your prisoner tomorrow. Let’s be lovers tonight.”

Eonwe took a shuddering breath and Mairon could see that he was throwing caution out of the window. He melted into Eonwe’s embrace as he pulled him close, his lips so gentle on his own. He clung to him like one drowning – drowning in a sea of loneliness that was illuminated by the cruel light of the Silmarils. Eonwe’s large, cool hands slid over his body like a summer breeze, waking a slow, molten desire inside him.

“Oh, Mairon”, Eonwe whispered as he laid him down on his bed. “I missed you, too. So much.”

He quickly got rid of his armour, letting the pieces clank to the floor. Mairon reached out his arms to embrace him when he crawled over him, covering him with his muscular body – a soldier’s body.

They kissed again, not a summer breeze now, but a warm storm coming down from the mountains and fanning his flames. Mairon jerked his hips, bringing their erections together and gasped at the sparks of pleasure making his muscles spasm. He heard Eonwe groan, his breath ghosting over his face.

“Eonwe”, he moaned. “Please...”

It startled him how much he longed for him to take him, but his pleasure-clouded mind couldn’t be bothered to care. Eonwe whispered his name again and again, while peppering his shoulders with kisses. Mairon felt him rummaging around beside the bed. And then two oily fingers slid inside him and he moved into the touch with a keen. He felt like molten gold, hot and glowing.

Eonwe entered him slowly. There was no pain, no pain at all, just intense pleasure and the feeling of being wanted – he hadn’t felt like that for such a long time.

 

Eonwe held him in his arms and combed his fingers through his hair. Mairon started to cry. He felt so raw, so confused. He’d wanted to seduce Eonwe in order to get to Melkor. And he still intended him to ask him about him, but... He hadn’t felt so loved in centuries, with Melkor preoccupied by the Silmarils and the war. He’d wished so often for their relationship to turn back into what it had been before the Valar razed Utumno and dragged his Master away to Aman – but it never had. Eonwe had taken one look at him and it had felt like they’d never been parted. How could that be?

Eonwe held him closer, humming softly.

“Did I hurt you?”, he asked, sounding worried.

Mairon laughed shakily. “No, not at all. I just...” He sniffed. “I’ll submit to your justice.”

“I can’t judge you”, Eonwe said sorrowfully. “Only the Valar have that right. But if you come with me, I promise, I’ll put in a good word for you with Manwe.”

“You would do that for me?” Mairon looked puzzled at him. “Why?”

“Because you were my... my friend”, Eonwe answered and kissed the tears off his face. “And I want you to have a second chance, despite all the horrible things I hear about you. You don’t seem so horrible now.”

Mairon sniffed. Horrible. Abhorred. What the elves called him.

“I suppose, I might have gone too far on occasion”, he said slowly, though he still didn’t really get it.

What he’d done to the elves had been first for science and later... well, they had been at war. He felt no remorse. But he didn’t voice his thoughts, he didn’t want to fight with Eonwe.

“Eonwe?”, he whispered, snuggling into him and letting his lids flutter seductively.

Eonwe sounded a little breathless, when he answered: “Yes?”

Mairon smiled a little sadly. “Would you let me see Melkor? I... I just want to say goodbye.”

Eonwe looked sternly at him for a moment and Mairon lowered his eyes.

“Fine”, he sighed then. “I’ll sneak you in. But... he might not be awake.”

There was something in Eonwe’s eyes that Mairon didn’t like at all, he felt his heart starting to race.

“I need to see him. I...” He’d heard him scream, felt the mountain’s shake with it. He needed to know how he was.

“It would be easier, if you’d turn into a cat again, I’ll distract the guards.”

“Thank you”, Mairon whispered and gave him a lingering kiss.

He meant it. Melkor would be so jealous, if he knew about this. But, Mairon thought, then he might finally remember what they had been before the Silmarils came between them. Eonwe stood up and dressed and Mairon changed his shape back into the grey cat.

 

Mairon quickly slid under the side of the tent where his Master was held, while Eonwe was engaging the two Maiar who stood on guard in a conversation. It was dark inside, but his cat’s eyes caught every bit of light and he silently moved closer to the cot. He could smell blood and felt his heart beat quicker.

His Master was unconscious, he looked pale, his face drawn with pain. Mairon jumped on the bed and nuzzled his cheek. His poor Master was injured. What had they done to him? He sniffed down his body, searching for the injury. There were a few scratches on his body, but not until he reached the end of his legs did he find what gave of that strong smell of blood.

Mairon gave a desperate little howl when he saw the stumps of his legs, bandaged tightly, where his feet should be. He raced up to his Master’s face and curled up trembling around his neck. They’d mutilated him! They’d cut off his feet! And he’d just had sex with the one responsible for this!

Was that the justice of the Valar? They were his Masters enemies! How could he have thought to submit to them even for a moment? He should never have allowed himself to let his long gone feelings for Eonwe cloud his mind. Mairon felt sick – tainted.

Melkor groaned softly, chain-links clanked as he lifted a trembling hand to stroke his fur.

“Mairon?”, he whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t just leave you, Master. I can’t live without you!”

Melkor leaned his cheek against his soft, warm fur and sighed.

“Please, my flame, you need to run. I could not bear it, if they took you, too. I need to know you are save.”

Melkor pressed a kiss to his little head and Mairon gave a loud cry that told of all his heart’s pain.

“I love you, Master”, he said. “I love you forever.”

Then he shot off the bed and through the entrance, heedless of who might see him. The two guards gave a shout and he heard the flap of wings. Eonwe was following him.

Mairon ran quicker, taking the direct routes through tents, jumping over ropes and baggage packs until he reached the end of the camp and the forest edge. His heart burned with the agony of leaving his Master behind, but he ran on. He needed to get away. Away from the cruel people who’d mutilated him so.

He would do his Master’s last wish. He’d not let those get him, who’d had no mercy for his Master. The sight of the bandaged stumps haunted him. And they called him Cruel and Abhorred!

Finally he found a hollow tree and hid inside its trunk. For a long while he could hear Eonwe searching for him, calling for him, promising him things he knew now to be lies.

Mairon curled up tightly. He’d been a fool, only for a little moment. He knew better now and he would not forget.

‘You’ll hear of me again’, he thought.

It might take centuries – millennia – to build up again what they’d lost, but he would and then he would take revenge for what they’d done to Melkor.

‘I will get you out, my love’, he thought. ‘I won’t forget you.’