AN: A gift for the wonderful @merilles. Please check out the beautiful art for this ship here and here! I always feel so very honored when I get to write other people's OCs ♡
dark romance prompts
♡ prompt: despair | Dúvain (OC) x Mairon/Sauron
♡ synopsis: after having survived the dungeons of Barad-dûr, Dúvains finds herself face to face with the dark lord. what does he want from her?
♡ warnings: captive/captor dynamic, power imbalance
♡ short oneshot (~900 words)
The first thing Dúvain saw when she awoke was the gaze of honey-golden eyes, bright and warm like sunshine. They appeared to illuminate the ethereal, perfect face hovering above her with an otherworldly glow, and she was met with a smile a little too sweet and teeth just slightly too sharp to belong to a mortal man.
The first thing she smelled was the subtle, soothing scent of tea and a cosy fireplace, with only the slightest hint of flame and ash; a scent that one hardly ever noticed until it was gone, a scent that spoke of home.
The first thing she felt was a hand on her cheek and another on top of hers, long fingers searching, reaching, intertwining with hers like serpents of smooth skin and hard bone.
"Dúvain..."
That voice. The loveliest Dúvain had ever heard, soft and melodious, surpassing even the most famed minstrels of Númenor. There was a subtle lilt to it as if it was singing to her, slowly coaxing her out of slumber.
"Dúvain..."
She blinked. It felt as though her mind had been shattered into tiny shards and fragments of memories and sensations, yet she knew she recognised this man – this miraculous being.
It's...
Annatar.
No. No. It's –
Tar-Mairon.
Dúvain squeezed her eyes shut. No. These thoughts, these names, they came with such certainty and precision that they felt out of place, as if someone was speaking inside her mind with her own voice.
Yet now that she was free from that alluring golden gaze, clarity suddenly returned to her.
It's... the enemy. It's Sauron.
She sat up abruptly, eyes wide in panic, and freed her hand, scooting backwards until her shoulders met the headboard of the bed she had been sleeping on.
Liar. Torturer. Deceiver. Murderer.
Dúvain raised her hands, only to realise that her sword was gone – had been gone for a long time. They had taken it from her, as well as any other blade or sharp piece of steel she could have used to defend herself.
If he can even be hurt by such things. Either way, her own flesh and bone was all that remained; though she knew already that she was weakened and had little hope of resisting whatever he planned to do to her.
Would it be worse than the dungeons of Barad-dûr? Under normal circumstances she would doubt it, but the tales of the dark lord's bottomless malice and cruelty made her think otherwise.
Sauron made no move to stop or apprehend her. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands still resting on the sheets where Dúvain had withdrawn from his touch, and he seemed amused rather than angered by her reaction.
"You are awake," he noted, speaking in the same lilting sing-song voice he had used to talk to her in her sleep. "Have you slept well?"
The nonchalance of his demeanour felt like mockery.
Dúvain didn't deign to answer and clenched her fists. Knuckles white, nails biting into her skin, she forced herself not to tremble. Sauron was the kind of creature that could sense fear, she knew instinctively.
Could she escape? If not from his dungeon, then maybe from whichever chambers he had brought her to? Nervously, her eyes roamed her surroundings. Even if she could somehow outrun a Maia, guards would be everywhere, and she had no idea where she was, not to mention the battlements, the stairs, the gates –
Sauron was suddenly in front of her again, now kneeling on the bed. Dúvain flinched; she was certain that she hadn't looked away for even a split second, yet somehow he had still managed to move faster than her eyes could see.
So much for getting away from him...
His hands reached for her again, and she had nowhere to go. Her gaze fell upon a single golden ring adorning his finger, gleaming proudly and thrumming with strange magic and powers she did not understand.
"No..."
Dúvain didn't want to be touched. Not by Orcs, not by other Men, most certainly not by the dark lord –
And yet, his hands were warm, and she was cold, so cold.
Her breath quickened and her heart raced, like a trapped bird fluttering in its cage.
"Kill me," she challenged.
I don't want to die.
But Dúvain would be brave, like a knight of Númenor should be.
Sauron merely smiled. "You don't truly want me to."
Had he read her mind or was he able to see past her facade so easily? He had both hands on her cheeks now, holding her head in a gentle yet inescapable grip, and was examining her panicked expression like an amusing curiosity.
"My dear Dúvain." The subtle song was back, incessant and unrelenting as if he intended to serenade her into submission. "There is no need for such antics. You have already proven your strength to me, have you not?"
His smile was so sweet that it sickened her to her core, but Dúvain found herself unable to look away or close her eyes.
"You have indeed, and I wish to reward you for it."
"I don't want what you offer. I choose death over your treacherous gifts," Dúvain mumbled, though it was becoming harder and harder to focus on her words.
Sauron laughed lightly, and despite the gentle melody of his voice, there was an edge of cruelty to the otherwise pleasant sound.
"You fear death as all mortals do, Dúvain. Why don't you instead ask me for something that you truly desire – such as deliverance from its grasp?"
"Oltre Il Velo", il racconto con due personaggi di "Catene di Ametista" che potete trovare sul blog @readingrainbowbooksblog 😁 L'abito scivolò via dalle sue spalle proprio nell'istante in cui il giovane sul letto alzò un braccio nella sua direzione, le dita tese in una silenziosa richiesta di raggiungerlo, e il danzatore dimenticò tutti quei timori e armeggiò rapidamente coi lacci dei pantaloni per privarsi di ogni cosa inutile che indossava. Si avvicinò ancora, tuttavia aspettò a scostare i tendaggi che cadevano dall'alto perché vide il compagno scivolare sulle lenzuola per mettersi inginocchiato sul bordo del materasso. «Io appartengo a...» iniziò a mormorare quando incontrò i suoi occhi attraverso la stoffa trasparente, ma il sarto lo interruppe, ripetendo le stesse parole che lui gli pronunciava sempre e che erano dichiarazioni, scuse e promesse unite insieme. «Io appartengo a te,» cominciò Cínir, portando due dita sulle labbra dell'altro e premendo leggermente su di esse il velo color dell'alba che li divideva. «Il mio corpo è stretto tra le tue braccia. Il mio cuore è racchiuso tra le tue mani.» Fece scivolare il palmo lungo il suo collo e poi più giù fino al petto, all'altezza del cuore. «E non ho vita senza il tuo respiro che accarezza il mio viso e riscalda la mia anima.» Link diretto: http://readingrainbowbooks.blogspot.it/2017/02/oltre-il-velo-una-novella-da-catene-di.html?m=1&zx=dfb5efea65bae19e #mm #mmromance #mmfantasy #amore #racconto #catenediametista #cinir #duvain
Story: From the moment Duvain was born, he knew nothing but the privilege of a Gilt-Leaf. As a winnower, he was no stranger to killing eyeblights, and today was no different. That is, until a mysterious elf he had never seen before joined their hunting party.
This one was a strange one, without horns or hooves, but still very beautiful nonetheless. Perhaps later he would get the chance to learn more about her, but for now, he had eyeblights to hunt.
As they ran after the horrors, Duvain broke off from the pack to catch stragglers that were missed by the initial sweep. That’s when he heard the strange elf demanding that the eyeblights were to be spared. She claimed that they were natural and condemned his tribe for hunting them. Protecting the beauty of his home couldn’t be evil, could it? Not that that mattered for long.
He heard a shout and turned to see a wall of darkness fast approaching, devouring all green from the trees, leaving nothing but twisted, gnarled branches. Was this the price for maintaining such beauty? All that they had done to keep Lorwyn beautiful was being uprooted in seconds. He turned and ran.
The darkness was relentless, insatiable, and unstoppable. It was chasing him and it was gaining ground. Literally. This was all wrong. The land was rapidly becoming a twisted, ugly version of itself, and he was being hunted just like the boggarts just moments before. He felt a heat rising within him. Was it shame? Well he wasn’t going to just let whatever this was take him without a fight.
Determined, he slid to a stop and faced the dark wall. Summoning all the mana that he could muster, he waited for the shadow to draw near and as it washed over him, he released all the mana that he had gathered in a single spell as the world changed. What had once had been vibrant and green, had changed to black and twisted, and was now chalky and lifeless. Nothing was the same. As far as he could see, the land was full of this new, lifeless dust. His world was gone, and for the first time in Duvain’s life, he was completely and utterly alone.
Notes: Doesn’t know that he is a planeswalker. Believes the Great Aurora has caused the shift from Lorwyn to Zendikar
Saad724 G7
Duvain S1
BeautyIsAnIllusion G1
ColdAsIce S1
The following students all received an O and +5hps for their house. Well done guys!
- Professor Starleigh
Charms Professor
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House Points:
Gryffindor: +10
Hufflepuff: 0
Ravenclaw: 0
Slytherin: +10
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