#mairatyaron

[hraicene]

@mairatyaron

He’d ventured much further than he’d meant to. His horse, Aeril, was not too keen about it, and she kept trying to lead him away, at least once she’d figured out how far they’d gone.

He tried to calm her, but she was not having any of it.

The orcs had led them far, and he hadn’t realized how far.

                “Aeril. We will go home in a moment. Calm yourself.”

He spoke to her softly, and fully intended to leave soon. He’d lost track of the animals. It was time to leave anyway, but she would not calm down for him to really try to get back onto her.

[kathuphazganun-blog]

Golden Treasures

@mairatyaron 

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Ar-Pharazôn had summoned his trusted and loyal advisor Sauron to his chambers after night had fallen upon the now rather dismal city of Armenelos. He feared not now what his guards or even his wife Ar-Zimraphel thought of their King and his right-hand man whenever he had summoned the Maia to his quarters in the nightly hours. It would not have been hard for anyone who was not deaf to not hear the two as they pleasured one another, often for many long hours or a desperate hour before a long council meeting. Often, it was Pharazôn taking his pleasure through Sauron and caring not about him but for himself. Sauron had been able to begin to corrupt not only his mind, but his body; however twisted and vile the King felt, he continued to tear robe and legging from his advisor and place his pale wrists within cuffs of gold, attached to chains golden and glittering. He had always found himself irresistible to golden treasures.

This very night was no different from many others which he had shared with Sauron. He had his guards bring forth the Maia from his own chambers which had been unlocked for many moons, where he was free to roam as he pleased. That was, until his King ordered him to come, to meet with him.

A plush and golden throne had been fashioned for the King’s personal chambers, based upon that much larger and grander seat that lay within the great hall of the city. There, Pharazôn waited. The goblet of fine wine rested on his fingers while those of his other hand tapped impatiently upon the arm rest of his magnificent chair.

However, he knew that his advisor always sought to keep him pleased, so he knew his impatience would be wasted. He could afford to wait a few moments more for Sauron to appear at his door. The sorcerer had been growing better at advising him and doing his will, which Pharazôn thought to reward. He had punished Sauron greatly in the past for every fell word or deed done out of insolence and insult and now that his ways had changed, he thought to now reward Sauron just as greatly. 

Those sharp, dark eyes trained upon the door until a knock was laid upon it, causing the King to sit straight and tall once more.

“Enter,” he commanded loudly and watched as the door was pushed open slowly, anticipating the enticing view of his fiery-haired Zigûr.

[first-son-of-finwe]

@mairatyaron replied to your post “I really need a blowjob.”

"Use those skills of yours you are so constantly bragging about and invent something to do it for you."

‘No machine can replace the touch of an elf,” he huffed, looking the other up and down.

“Or a maia, for that matter.”

[peregrintcck]

[ @mairatyaron has just admitted that being rude to Pip hurts too much. GOOD ]

[kyelek]

@mairatyaron, x

     Blood slicked on Huan’s lip Celegorm had smelled and seen when the hound returned. Not for the first time, he had slain many a beast and in Beleriand oft by command. Yet his master might not tell whence and from whose neck it had been drawn. Now he may be keen on the same odor, he guessed, and as he came further North and East again came a thought to him. Some foulness crawling in Morgoth’s service, though no more he could name it. 

Now, he was filled with ire for the verdict laid upon him and Curufin — and now he cared much to make good of his fury on a hunt. Celegorm crept ever further into the forest laid before him. With a strong arm he aimed and held the dart of his bow at the darkened tree crowns.

[gronthosargureos]

@mairatyaron liked for a starter

“King Gil-Galad’s letter arrived not long before you did,” Celebrimbor frowned at the Maia, “He warned me against you, Master Annatar.  Now why should I ignore his good council in favor of yours?” Hadn’t he and his kin suffered enough at the hands of the Ainur? “You have five minutes to argue your case.”

[nessaastalda-archived]

| Starter for @mairatyaron |

Years of warfare have turned Nessa into a more fierce fighter. She never hesitated, she never stayed her hand any more. She used her nightmares of the battles past as a guide for the battles she waged now. Dismantling this Orc raiding party was no different. She scarcely thought as she shouted orders to her men- the whole skirmish was over in less than ten minutes. It was a third random raiding party in less than two moons, and however small it seemed its close proximity to the city borders and the fact these Orcs seemed to be slightly more organized that expected for the present period seemed concerning to the Capitan. She gripped the hilt of her sword, pulling it out of the body of the last fallen Orc, not even bothering to clean it immediately. She turned to her second in command and simply said. “Burn the remains. I am going to report back to the city, they shall want to hear this.” 

The ride back to Ost-in-Edhil was swift, though Nessa could not help but admire the scenery. She missed Lindon and the comforting hum of the sea, but ridding through the woods like this, all by her lonesome, reminded her of Beleriand, and the thought brought a sorrowful smile to her face. Apparently, it was a day for reminiscing, and she knew it would make her restless and anxious whenever she tries to relax later in the day. 

Once she was in the city, she left her horse in the stable, not even bothering to wash the black stains of Orc blood off her hands, before marching up to the Lord  Telperinquar’s halls. She needed to attempt to bring the odd behavior of the Orcs to his attention. Not that he was focused on much other than his craft these days. Nessa hoped that she was reading into this strange raids too much and nothing more ominous was happening, but her experience spoke volumes against it. 

The guards saluted her kindly, before letting her through without question, but instead of the Elven Lord she hoped to see, his estimated guest was sitting, casually, on the throne like chair in the center of the long hall. The Capitan halted, confused for a moment. The elf did hold favor with their ruler, but to assume the seat of power in such a manner was nothing short of outrageous. 

Lord Annatar was still somewhat of a mystery, even after all this time. He appeared out of nowhere, gained favor with the Lord of the city way to quickly, he was handsome and alluring to say the least, few immune to his charms, and yet.. Nessa felt a certain, inexplicable dread every time she was near him. The fact that Lady Artanis, had not gifted this “Lord of Gifts” with her trust was another reason why Nessa could not, no would not, either.  Be that as it may, she understood that the Vanyar was less than naive, so she had to quell her impulses and try to play this smartly too. She halted at the middle of the chamber and spoke finally.

“My Lord, it appears you have mistaken Lord Telperinquar’s chair for your own.” Her tone was serious only for a brief moment, but then she smiled as manners dictated. “Pray tell, where can I find him? I am afraid I have a most urgent matter to discuss with him.”

[kathuphazganun-blog]

Kings of Men

@mairatyaron

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Ar-Pharazôn’s rage had burned white-hot in his breast at the tidings brought back to his high throne in Armenelos. He had heard word that Sauron fought against his captains and warriors in Middle-earth since he had taken up the Sceptre in Anadûnê. He enjoyed not what he heard and summoned a mighty force of ships and men to head way to Middle-earth and challenge the so-called “King of Men,” a title that Pharazôn himself had taken up and intended to prove to whom would dare threaten to push the Adûnâ back to the seas.

He would allow none to challenge his dominion over the lands he had fought long and hard for in his youth. None could defeat the mighty Ar-Pharazôn kathuphazgânun, the Golden Conqueror. 

The King had led his forces over the seas they could navigate so swiftly and so well, and came to the strong port of Umbar. It had been a source of much wealth and of trade for Anadûnê, and was the most fortified and protected landing spot closest to the dark land of Mordor. There, Pharazôn would force the Maia Sauron to submit to his will, and bring him back across the sea as a prize and as a servant, another sign of his power and his rule, much akin to the silks, furs, and gold he had brought back to his palace from Harad and the southern and eastern lands beyond.

He traveled North with his heavily-armed hosts of men, bearing their banners of blue and of white, of red and black, and of gold. The company made their journey nearly all of the day and all of the night, hard-pressed to their march by their determined King whose anger still burned hot.

Ar-Pharazôn would find no rest until his enemy, the only one who so dared to stand against him, was kneeling before him, the lowest of servants to the mightiest kingdom of Arda. 

After a week’s march, the King of the Sea and his armies set their camp, with Ar-Pharazôn‘s golden throne placed at the summit of a hill, where he watched his men with hawk’s eye and cats’ ear, awaiting any response of Sauron. He was surrounded by the banners and shining armor of the assembled men of Anadûnê, of Forostar to Hyarrostar.

He sent heralds to do his bidding and bring the challenge to Sauron, while the King himself waited. He had said, “No King of Men is he who has no army; nor whom sought to challenge a far greater force of arms! Call to every highest point of the mountains and every lowest point of the caverns that Ar-Pharazôn is the King of Men, and shall leave content not until Sauron has come to swear fealty. He will kneel at my feet, submit himself to be a servant to me, no longer seeking to tear my empire apart! If he not crawl from the cesspool in which he dwelleth, or he seek to attack us once more, my armies shall be sent forth and no mercy be found in me. Tell the lowly cur-dog these tidings, and pray not return until he is with you.”