Hurting Tyelpë by elennalore

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Fanwork Notes

Written for prompts in Putting the HURT in Hurt/Comfort bingo board. Please note the rating and warnings.

Fanwork Information

Summary:

Sauron has taken Celebrimbor as a prisoner in Ost-in-Edhil. Whump happens.

Major Characters: Celebrimbor, Sauron

Major Relationships: Celebrimbor/Sauron

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Challenges: Potluck Bingo

Rating: Adult

Warnings: Torture

Chapters: 2 Word Count: 3, 187
Posted on 22 November 2024 Updated on 1 January 2025

This fanwork is a work in progress.

Drugged against his will

Prompts used: drugged against your will, captivity, secrets, poison.

Read Drugged against his will

Celebrimbor was awoken from a disturbing dream to find Sauron on his side. A glass bottle was rudely pushed against his parched lips.

“Drink,” Sauron commanded, and he obeyed, for he was very thirsty. He gulped down the water without thinking; he was seldom given this much to drink. Only when the bottle must have been half finished, he paused, finally recognising the bitter taste that lingered in his mouth.

“I don’t want to.”

“Drink.”

It was useless to fight, but Celebrimbor did his best anyway, writhing against the ropes which bound him to a heavy chair – a chair that had originally belonged to his study. He shook his head in growing fear until Sauron got a grip of his hair and forced him to stay still as he poured the last of the liquid into Celebrimbor’s mouth. Celebrimbor spat as much as he could, but Sauron’s hand covered his nose, and he needed to take a breath soon. He coughed and swallowed the bitter liquid against his will, already knowing that nothing good would happen after drinking it. Finally, the bottle was taken away. Celebrimbor took a deep breath that ended in a cough. He was allowed a little moment of triumph when he saw from the corner of his eye Sauron drying his wet robe, looking displeased. Annatar had never particularly liked getting wet.

The moment of triumph didn’t last long, though. Celebrimbor already started to feel the effects of the drug – or poison – that Sauron had mixed into water. His mouth was dry, and he wished that Sauron would give him something to drink – even that cursed water. His heart was beating suddenly very fast, either because of fear of what could happen next, or because of the poison in his veins. It was getting hard to keep still. His arms made useless moves as he desperately tried to free from the ropes that tied his arms to the armrests. The room felt too hot. Was it because of Sauron’s presence? Had he brought the fire with him like the last time? But when Celebrimbor tried to look at his captor, his eyes refused to focus.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this, Tyelpë,” Sauron said as he tightened a rope around Celebrimbor’s unclothed body, forcing him back to the upright posture in the chair where he was kept without pause.

“I know you would rather lie down on a bed,” Sauron continued, and it almost sounded like he cared for Celebrimbor’s wellbeing. “But I’m afraid we have to go through the uncomfortable part first. It looks like there is no other way.”

It was getting increasingly difficult to think straight, but Celebrimbor knew that he couldn’t succumb to the incoherence yet; not before he knew what was going on.

“What was it you gave to me?” he mumbled, tongue thick in his mouth. “Was it thornapple? Banewort?”

“You were always such a clever Elf, Tyelpë.”

Sauron leaned closer, a threatening dark shape in a dimly lit room. When was the last time they had had a normal conversation? Celebrimbor was suddenly close to collapse in a fit of hysterical giggling. This place used to be his library.

“I have asked you politely before to tell me the location of the Rings. For some reason I can’t understand, you refuse to tell me that. There should be no secrets between us. You know who I am now. Why do you still keep information from me?”

Celebrimbor tried to answer, but his mouth was too dry. “Water. Give me water.”

“But of course.”

The bitter taste was back. Celebrimbor stopped drinking instinctively and turned his head away, but Sauron forced the bottle back and tilted his head so that he had no choice but to swallow. It was both a relief and horror to drink that foul water.

“Now, tell me where you hid the Rings. You can start with the lesser ones. They were never really important to us, you know that.”

Celebrimbor had lost the sense of time. Had he stayed silent for a duration of a breath, or for a whole day? He feared what would happen if he wouldn’t answer that question, and what would happen when he finally broke. His body had started shaking, and it took some time for him to notice that Sauron kept holding his head steady, tilting it slightly backwards.

“I didn’t think it would be easy, not in your case,” Sauron’s voice whispered somewhere very close. “Remember that I have an antidote with me. I will give it to you as soon as you tell me the location of the Rings. Any Rings. Would that be so difficult? I don’t think it would.”

Sauron didn’t give him the antidote, though. Celebrimbor felt a drop of liquid touch his eye, then another. He squinted with his other eye to see Sauron above him, a pipette in his hand. He held Celebrimbor’s head steady until he had filled Celebrimbor’s both eyes with droplets of probably the same liquid that he had forced him to drink before. What little there was left of Celebrimbor’s sense of sight was now taken from him. Everything went blurry. Sauron snapped his fingers, and a too-bright flame appeared in front of him. The light hurt Celebrimbor’s eyes, and he tried to press them shut, but Sauron’s finger forced one of his eyelids open so that he had to watch the flame. He would have cried, but the tears didn’t come.

“Where are the Rings?” Sauron’s voice asked again, soft and composed as always.

It took some time until Celebrimbor realised that he had started to whimper aloud.

After that, Celebrimbor’s thoughts became mostly hazy and incoherent. He started to writhe in his ropes in panic, his heart pounding inside his ribcage like a trapped animal. He tried to fight the irrational fear that made it impossible to think – and he needed to think to get out of this situation! – but he couldn’t control himself anymore. It wouldn’t take long until he would inadvertently tell Sauron what Sauron wanted to know, and all his efforts would be in vain.

Celebrimbor felt the bottle against his lips once more, and he realised that it was his only way out. This time, he drank the horrible drug willingly, hoping to take more of it than Sauron had thought to give him this time. If Celebrimbor was lucky, he would soon become too incoherent to even speak – and unable to blurt out secrets.

A series of whimpering sounds came from his throat, but no words that would do harm. It wouldn’t take long before his body would collapse from exhaustion; his heart was already beating too fast, and his whole body was convulsing. Sauron became impatient and gave Celebrimbor another dose of the poisoned drink. Again, he drank as much as he could.

Celebrimbor felt himself falling into the abyss. A moment later, he couldn’t remember his name, or what he was supposed to do. It was terrifying. He was lost, completely lost and frightened, and someone kept asking him questions. It was the evil Maia, but his voice was strangely familiar as if the Maia had been dear to him once.

It was a blessed oblivion, but it didn’t last forever. Celebrimbor came to his senses slowly; his thoughts were still hazy and his body heavy – but he could think again, and he remembered where he was at once. The room was cold, making him shiver uncontrollably, and he tried to grope around for a blanket, but of course there was none, and his arms were tied up anyway. He was drooling and a horrible headache hit him as he opened his eyes. Sauron had not left – or if he had, he had come back. His piercing eyes were fixed solely on Celebrimbor.

“What did you do with the Rings?” Sauron asked him.

Hearing those words, Celebrimbor fought not to show his utter relief. It meant that he had succeeded in keeping the information from Sauron, delaying the inevitable. He was exhausted, however, and he feared that he could not last long under interrogation.

Sauron didn’t repeat his question. He currently studied Celebrimbor’s ruined condition with evident distaste, and that gave Celebrimbor an idea.

“I’m filthy,” Celebrimbor said mildly, and it was true. His sweaty hair stuck to his face and neck, and he realised that he had soiled himself. He would have been ashamed in other circumstances.

Sauron wrinkled his nose, a gesture that reminded Celebrimbor of Annatar. They stared at each other.

“I will order you to be cleaned,” Sauron said at last. “I find you repulsive.”

It was a relief, albeit a temporary one, and it was more than Celebrimbor had dared to hope. He let Sauron’s servants untie him and take him away from the room where Sauron would probably manage to break him one day – but not today.


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Lost in the woods

This second chapter was also written for the Potluck Bingo challenge. My prompt was lost in location of your choice in Putting the HURT in Hurt/Comfort bingo board. I got a diagonal bingo with this one!

Read Lost in the woods

The Orcs grasped Celebrimbor by his arms and shoved him out of the wagon. He tumbled down gracelessly, hitting a knee on a rock. It hurt, and Celebrimbor fought to suppress a moan.

“Go!” he heard one of the Orcs utter in a rough voice. “Go!”

They had freed his hands only a moment before, and Celebrimbor quickly removed the band they had used to bind his eyes. His hands were numb and trembling, and it took more time than he liked to open a simple knot. All the time he feared that this was a part of some cruel play, and the Orcs would halt him and punish for disobedience, but they didn’t. When his sight was returned to him, Celebrimbor noticed three grim-looking Orcs around the horse wagon, armed with their usual weapons. Celebrimbor would be no match for them in his weakened condition. They leered at him and laughed at his clumsiness, but they didn’t try to stop him as he started running toward the woods.

“Be gone already!” they shouted behind him. It was night-time, and the forest felt dark and unwelcoming; he didn’t recognise the place where they had set him free. Many times, he stumbled in the darkness but didn’t stop running until he was sure that the Orcs didn’t follow him.

Celebrimbor had escaped, if it could be called escaping – the whole thing tasted too much like Sauron’s experiment. Still, Celebrimbor refused to give up hope. Even though there might be only a tiny chance for success, he needed to try to escape. Perhaps he could at least warn the others before Sauron found him.

The night was cold, and Celebrimbor was barefoot and clothed only in rags. A sharp rock had cut his sole while he ran away from the Orcs, but there was not enough light to see how bad the wound was. An owl hooted nearby, making him jump. There was nothing familiar in this forest, and tall trees hid everything from view – he could only guess where the Orcs had taken him. The situation didn’t look good; he was lost and already started to feel cold.

“This could be the forest close to the mountains,” he spoke to himself, trying to calm himself down. “When the morning comes, I shall see which direction is east.”

Celebrimbor spent the night crouching under low-hanging branches of a fir tree, in a state of stupor that hardly could be called sleep. When he woke up, he didn’t remember where he was at first, and the dim light and foreign smells around him quickened his heartbeat – so different from the dark cellar where Sauron had kept him lately. The events of the previous night finally came back to him, but nothing could relieve his anxiety. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

Still, he needed to go on, he couldn’t give up so easily. But where? A part of him wanted to hurry to Lórinand or Lindon and offer his knowledge about Sauron for those who still had a chance to conquer him. He gave up the idea as soon as it occurred, however, for that was just where he had ordered to send the Three Rings – he could not lead Sauron there!

“Is there any hope left for me?” Celebrimbor sighed in despair, hugging himself in his impromptu shelter. He didn’t want to go on, but the light of the morning sun filtered through the fir-branches, and when a ray of light touched his face, it kindled a new hope in his heart, and slowly, he crawled out of his hiding-place.

He made his decision then. “Khazad-dûm is that way, and I know the way in.”

All day, Celebrimbor travelled what he thought was eastward, but the forest was unending, and the trees that grew in that area were old and huge and hid the sun from view. As Sauron’s prisoner, he had got used to being hungry, but thirst threatened to become unbearable. It was a peculiar forest, for he couldn’t find any decent spring or brook there. The branches of trees tried to grasp him as he walked past; it was as if the forest was aware of him, and not in a good way. The place felt almost hostile, and Celebrimbor wished to be away from there already. He missed the safety of his cellar.

The horrible thought made him freeze. No! He did not want to return there! That would be what Sauron wanted.

He arrived at a shallow stream as dusk was falling. Finally, he could quench his thirst, but that relief didn’t last long. There was something wrong with the water – after drinking from it, the thirst came back, more severe than before. Celebrimbor didn’t drink from the stream again; this place was chosen for him by Sauron, and there had to be some cruel spell on the stream, put there to torment him.

That was when he heard the howl of a wolf from a distance. Worse, it was answered, and the second howl came much nearer. Celebrimbor sprang to his feet, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. He remembered Sauron’s reputation as Lord of the werewolves, and the memory made him feel sick – he needed to find a safe place to hide.

He started running away from the sound of wolves, already exhausted. As an Elf, he was a quick runner even in his feeble condition, but the wolves were approaching him, nevertheless, as if spurred by Sauron’s evil will. For a long time, it felt, he was hunted in this way. But Celebrimbor’s legs were weak and clumsy, and at last he tripped and fell, twisting his ankle painfully. It appeared that he could only limp now.

Running was out of the question, so Celebrimbor decided to climb up into a tree, hoping that the wolves would pass by without noticing him and lose his scent. He chose a mighty oak whose branches looked promising. The wolves were close now, but with some difficulty he pulled himself onto the lowest branch, a bit out of breath, and ready to continue his climb.

The branch should have endured his weight, it really should have, but perhaps it suffered from tree rot, or perhaps the whole forest was under a curse that hindered his escape, for the branch snapped in two and Celebrimbor fell down.

It hurt, but he had no time to think, for a pack of wolves surrounded him already, baring their teeth and growling at him. They were larger than normal ones and looked bloodthirsty – surely, they served Sauron. There was no way to escape; Celebrimbor cowered in terror on muddy earth where he leaned against the tree trunk. He hid his face with his crossed arms; a desperate moan escaped his mouth. He could only hope that his end would be quick.

The end didn’t come. There was a change in the air, and the howls of the wolves became different – meek and submissive. Celebrimbor dared to open his eyes and peek out from behind his crossed arms.

Annatar – no, Sauron, in his black clothes – stood in front of him. His hand was raised, the gesture revealing the One on his finger. Power radiated from him. He seemed to have perfect control over the wolves who stood around Celebrimbor completely still, their eyes fixed at their master’s hand. With one small flick of the wrist, Sauron could command the beasts to attack if he wanted.

Celebrimbor’s body was trembling in exhaustion. He didn’t even try to get up from the ground where he had fallen.

“Please don’t do it,” he said in a small voice.

Sauron’s mouth twisted into a cruel smile. “When I set you free, I thought you would lead me to the place where the Rings are kept, but of course you are cleverer than that.”

“Your obsession has dulled your wits,” Celebrimbor mocked. “That was a lousy plan. I hardly know where I am, myself. How can I find any Rings for you?”

The wolves growled and he went silent, not wanting to risk Sauron’s wrath.

Sauron just ignored him and continued: “Then I thought that you would decide to return to your dear city. To me, to complete our work. But Khazad-dûm! I’m disappointed, Tyelpë, very disappointed. Do you really think that the Dwarves would have helped you?”

Celebrimbor shook his head sadly. A nauseating thought occurred to him. He could not let Sauron force him to reveal how the West-gate of Khazad-dûm worked. He had to change the subject, and quickly.

“Please, take me back. Annatar, call your wolves away and take me home. Please.”

“Home?” Sauron echoed, as if the word were foreign to him. “Very well, so be it.”

Sauron gave a command in that harsh language of his own invention Celebrimbor still found oddly fascinating. The wolves retreated back to the shadows of the trees, and suddenly they were alone. Sauron’s eyes never left his. With slow movements, Celebrimbor stood up and briefly thought of fighting back, but he knew he was no match for Sauron.

He had expected a slap or manhandling, but instead, Sauron’s arms were suddenly wide open, welcoming him into an embrace, some kind of a mock affection. To his horror, Celebrimbor stepped forward and let Sauron wrap his arms around him. Sauron smelled of smoke and ashes, and something pungent Celebrimbor could not name – just that it was a familiar smell. He couldn’t pull himself away from it but pressed his head into Sauron’s shoulder, feeling his warmth. He was lost, hopelessly lost.

“Welcome home, Tyelpë,” Sauron whispered into his ear, and although his voice was soft, his grip on Celebrimbor’s body was tight.


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Well done!  I enjoyed reading this, and love how Celebrimbor decides to drink even more of the drug/poison in order to avoid telling Sauron where the rings are.  It's always nice when the his own methods are turned against him!  In addition, Sauron's personality and actions throughout felt very in character for him.