Unlikely Bedfellows by elennalore

Unlikely Bedfellows

Read Unlikely Bedfellows

After Zigûr had been in Númenor for twelve years, Ar-Pharazôn reckoned he was lousy company in bed, and sent him to sleep with me.

 

When my new bedfellow arrived in my chambers on that first night, he looked very shy. He was beautiful, however, in a way that is unusual for a Man. He was no ordinary man, of course. I think no one of us during those days really understood what he was – a force of nature incarnate. His long fair hair shone as if a thousand gems had been sprinkled over him. His sharp eyes were dark amber in colour; later I learned that his pupils sometimes looked like a cat’s when he was distracted. His ivory skin was flawless, and looked soft and firm, but there was a hidden sternness in him. His posture was not that of a slave, not even of a servant. His mere presence filled my bedchamber like no one before.

 

“What shall I call you?” I asked. It was a loaded question those days.

 

“I suppose you are not going to call me Tar-Mairon even if I asked?”

 

He made me laugh at that. “I will call you Mairon,” I told him, winking. “But only when we are alone.”

 

“Of course,” Mairon said. “I know the ban on Elven languages. I will call you Míriel, if you do not mind.”

 

He had dropped ‘Tar-’ from my name in exchange for his missing title; it felt only fair.

 

After introductions were made, it was time to get ready for bed. His shyness melted my heart, and I did not demand any bedchamber services from him on that very first night. He made a warm company next to me when I slept. I had a peaceful sleep; I cannot explain it, but I knew that he would not harm me. I think I saw an ally in him – in a way, we both were property of the King.

 

On the second night I took liberties with him; I could resist his allure for only so long. When the bed was finished, I slipped between the sheets, still wearing my nightgown, and blew out the candle on my nightstand. Mairon soon joined me there; he must have understood what I wanted from him, because he had got undressed as soon as the room became dark.

 

Feeling his body so close to me made me want him very much. I pulled him even closer, and when he did not object, I proceeded to hug him and kiss him on the mouth. He was a good kisser, and I briefly wondered who had taught him, or did the Ainur know that skill from the beginning.

 

There was something very adorable in the way he surrendered to my touch. I knew it was a role he had chosen to play, but we all had our own roles to bear. I never did see him as false. His body language spoke about secret passion in his heart.

 

My hands studied his body further with feverish haste, for I worried that he would not let me continue, and I wanted to learn all about him while I still could. At this point, I had become very wet myself. But he did not withdraw from my searching gropings, not even when I reached his most private parts – he only gave a slightly confused ‘oh’ when my hand found his hardness and started to stroke him, making him tremble a little.

 

I am proud to admit that I made a Maia come that night.

 

I was content just to lie with him on the bed afterwards, and it was as if he had known my thoughts, for he did not try to enter me against my will, and his caresses felt surprisingly tender. I was used to different kinds of men, so I hesitated to ask him more, for I feared that he would be harsh.

 

The following night, my urge to feel him inside me had grown overwhelming. Driven by my burning desire, I dared to guide his stone-hard cock towards my most private parts. I should not have needed to be afraid of what happened next. He did not brutalize me, and he made sure that I had found my pleasure before emptying his load inside me.

 

It was a night I will always remember; he made me feel Queen again. As so often happens, however, the pleasure turned momentarily into guilt. I had a fleeting worry that his seed would make me pregnant with his child. It was a silly thought, for my period had stopped some time ago. However, for a couple of nights, I preferred him to give me pleasure with his mouth rather than filling me with his seed. He used his tongue in a clever way; it found its way to my most intimate parts, and I had never known that a good licking could give me such pleasure, but it did.

 

Mairon was so skilful that it made me wonder why Ar-Pharazôn had become so tired of him. After two weeks, I often found myself spending time in conversation with him, but when I accidentally asked him what had happened in the King’s bedroom, he became sullen and closed like a clam. We never returned to the subject.

 

Soon, Mairon noticed that something worried me, and after some fuss I confided in him and told about my secret fear of getting pregnant with his child. I blushed with embarrassment when I told him this, for he must have known how old I was, but women sometimes have irrational fears like this. He did not laugh at me as I had feared, but studied me for a long time with his slightly unnerving eyes.

 

“You will never bear a child,” he said at last. And he spoke about my fate like he had seen it before him, but I did not understand his words then.

 

I was relieved at his words, despite their gloominess, and I surrendered myself fully to my desires again. I soon became familiar with his cock, and he taught me how to please him and how to get pleasure in many more ways than I had ever imagined possible.

 

I began to bring little presents to him. Jewels and silk scarves mostly, to wear as adornments. On some evenings, I was happy just to brush his hair; it was exquisitely smooth, and it thrilled me to think that he had brought his body and hair into being by his song of power.

 

One night he managed to surprise me. He opened his palm like a magician, and there on his palm lay a ring.

 

I laughed aloud. “I wish I was not married already,” I teased him. “Otherwise I would be tempted by your offer.”

 

“There are rings for different purposes,” Mairon said. “And there are other kinds of vows than marriage vows; some are even more binding.”

 

“What is it?” I asked, for I sensed that the beautiful object was important to him.

 

“A present for you. I had reserved it for your King, but I have changed my mind.”

 

He had an honest look in his eyes, but I had got enough experience with men bringing me gifts. “All right – what’s the catch?”

 

“Eternal life,” he said soberly. “It does not suit most mortal Men.”

 

I stared at the ring on his palm. I could feel its attraction, and I was tempted to take it. It flattered my vanity that he offered it to me and not to Ar-Pharazôn. But I hesitated, for it truly sounded like the ring hid some witchcraft.

 

I took three very deep breaths. Then I extended my palm. “I think you have seen my future already,” I said. “Did I take it?”

 

He did not answer, but dropped the ring on my palm.

 

It was a beautiful golden ring, encrusted with rubies that looked like tiny blood drops. I slipped it on my finger.

 

Mairon stayed with me all summer and autumn. I will always remember his touches and caresses over my body. But as time passed, things slowly changed. One evening, he did not appear at my door as usual; I learned that he had been given his own apartment in the northernmost tower. Somehow, he was suddenly in Ar-Pharazôn’s good graces, as if he had never been a prisoner. He looked lofty when I saw him in public, but when he noticed I was eyeing him, he gave me a conspiratorial wink, and I decided to visit his new apartment the following night.

 

I could not command him anymore – I knew I never would command him again. But his mouth found mine without ordering, and he ripped off my clothes and used all of his skill to give me pleasure.

 

Afterwards, I felt suddenly shy and avoided his eyes. I could feel the power radiating from him like never before. I got dressed quickly and hurried to leave the room when he spoke to me.

 

“Don’t fear me, Míriel. I am still as much a prisoner as you are.”

 

I laughed, and left the room, but his words awoke something inside me – a desire for freedom – although it took me many years to recognize it as such.

 

Years passed. The ailments of old age were not unknown to me anymore. I rarely visited Mairon in the magnificent temple where he now spent most of his time. But I had not forgotten him. Sometimes, I touched myself like he had touched me before – sometimes, I felt as if his invisible hands had caressed me, making me reach my peak and cry his name.

 

When the Downfall began, I heard his voice in my head.

 

Get to higher ground, he told me when the earthquakes started. Leave the city behind. It’s time.

 

Time for what? I wondered, but I did not question his orders. When the land around me crumbled and I fell into abyss, I understood. It was time to die.

 

That was the end of my tale –  and the beginning of another one.

 

In the darkness, his voice summoned me, and I followed him like I was bound to him, not knowing where I was, or what I was. I flew like a seagull across the vast ocean, but for all eyes I was invisible. I searched for him in the darkness for a long time, but my ring showed me the way, and finally I was with him again. He held me in a comforting embrace, and I told him how much I had missed him. We were alike now; we both belonged to the spirit world.

 

“I will make you a new body,” Mairon promised. “You will become the dark queen of the north.”

 

I knew the new body would not be the same, but only a phantom image of a real one. My heart ached, and I mourned for carnal pleasures lost forever. Then, my thoughts settled.

 

I realized that I did not want to be Míriel anymore.

 

“Can you make me a body of a Man?” I asked him. “I want to rule, and I have learned that the Men have all the power.”

 

“I can do that.”

 

I let him fill me with his presence, and mould me, and build me anew. He made me what I am today, but I asked him not to take my memories away.

 

Sometimes, I contemplate his ring in my hand, remembering that influential day when Ar-Pharazôn sent his troublesome prisoner to warm my bed instead.

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Chapter End Notes

This is the (nsfw) text prompt I got for this challenge. I have borrowed some wordings from it, as well as the general style in the beginning of the fic. Here's the prompt:

"After I was twelve years of age they reckoned me amongst the big girls, and I got a jolly bedfellow, whom I will call Alice Marchmont, a beautiful, fair girl, with a plump figure, large sensuous eyes, and flesh as firm and smooth as ivory. She seemed to take a great fancy to me, and the second night I slept with her (we had a small room to ourselves) she kissed and hugged me so lovingly that I felt slightly confused at first, as she took such liberties with me, my heart was all in a flutter, and although the light was out, I felt my face covered with burning blushes as her hot kisses on my lips, and the searching gropings of her hands in the most private parts of my person, made me all atremble." ~ From "Lady Pokingham; or They All Do It" from The Pearl, Vol. 1 (1879)

 

In this fic, my headcanon is that Tar-Míriel became the Witch-King of Angmar.