You are the daughter of Sauron and everyone is obsessed with you as they are obsessed with the rings.(Part 1)
"Everyone was aware that falling in love with you was madness, given your father's identity. Still, no one minded as long as they could have you by their side."
Morgoth/Melkor
He is obsessed with you as much as he is obsessed with the Silmarils.
Doesn't care if you are the daughter of his servant, he wants you.
Despite your refusal of Morgoth's advences, Sauron encourages you, and wanting to please your father, you decided to try and please Melkor.
"Your soul and body are mine like those silmarils"
He crafted a necklace made out of one of the Silmarils, gifting it to you as a token of your unity.
Thankfully, the Valar captured him after the battle of Wrath, however you already left him before the battle.
Maedhros
You met him while he was in Thangorodrim, getting tormented by your father.
At that time Morgoth was imprisoned in Angband, so you were free from his obsessed jealousy.
However, after seeing the handsome red-haired elf for the first time, you decided to take care of him and try to free him, feeling sympathy and gulit.
After freeing him with the help of his cousin Fingon who had to cut off his hand to free him, Maedhros tried to convince you to escape with him, as you handed him the Silmaril Morgoth gave you.
"Come with me, you will find peace away from your father's clutches"
And you did leave with him when you realize how awful Sauron is.
But your decision is like falling into another trap.
As Maedhros appeared to be the same as Morgoth in causing violence.
Celebrimbor
After discovering what Maedhros and his brothers have done to their kin, you fled without a second thought.
And as years passed, you kept yourself hidden wandering alone, until you met Celebrimbor whom you find his knowledge remarkable.
You thought of leaving when you discovered that he is the nephew of Maedhros, but his generosity tempted you to stay, and you did.
Honestly, you thought you found peace with him in the safety of his home, but that was never the case, Celebrimbor was possessive and refused to let you leave.
He crafted special rings to keep you safe from danger, and also to keep you in love with him.
"Your pain, your pleasure, your every thought belongs to me. You're mine to command and possess."
Celebrimbor thought he owned you, until Annatar 'Sauron' came into the picture and corrupted Celebrimbor into making the rings.
Sauron/Annatar 'platonic'
Sauron didn't realize how much you meant to him until you ran away.
He almost went insane and never stopped searching for you.
So, when he encountered Celebrimbor, he didn't expect to see you, and deep down it steered horrible jealousy at the sight of you, his only child, happy with Celebrimbor.
Adding to this, he noticed Celebrimbor's obessesive behavior towards you and how he tried to keep you away from his sight.
What is more amusing to Annatar is that you didn't discover his disguise.
So, he decided to reveal it to you.
"How sad that you don't remember your father, my sweet child"
You warn Celebrimbor about your father before handing him the rings he made for you and leaving.
Elrond
You knew Elrond since Maglor, brother of Maedhros, was the one fostered him and his twin brother, Elros.
So, seeing him after so many years surprised you and what made you feel shy is the fact that he invited you to stay with him at his realm.
You decided to take on his offer because you didn't want to keep on wandering in the middle earth after you did for many years.
Actually, you came to his realm after his wife decided to leave to the Undying Lands.
And Elrond is the only one who felt like he wanted to marry you but he decided not to act on it to not frighten you.
Especially after everything you told him about others 'locking you up' and 'refusing to let you leave'
Actually he witnessed how his foster Uncle treated you, so he understood where you are coming from.
"Do not worry, Nin meld, you are safe here with me, I promise to protect you from any danger."
─ ✧ Summary: Having been banished to rule a world that cannot see light, Sauron finds himself entranced by a maiden who wanders too far from her home and toward his domain.
Sauron loathes his banishment to the abyssal realm of the Underworld, a desolate dominion forged for a fallen dark lord who failed in his quest to bring a part of Arda under his control, a forsaken place devoid of light or warmth. In his relentless rituals, he compels the dead to repent for the sins they committed among the living. In certain aspects, the Underworld mirrors the dark vision of Middle-earth conceived by his predecessor—a realm bent on shackling all of Ilúvatar's children beneath his dominion. While some perceived Sauron's vision as a mere reflection of Morgoth's, he saw himself as forging a more perfected Middle-earth—accomplishing what his master had failed to achieve. After his defeat, his thoughts often drifted to Middle-earth, where he felt a deep longing for something—or someone. In the aftermath of his defeat, his mind was consumed by thoughts of Middle-earth, a place that stirred a haunting ache for something—or someone. In the shadowed depths of the Underworld, Sauron lingers in isolation. Solitude does not trouble him, yet the gnawing reminder of his loneliness causes him pain—a torment he has not felt since he was Mairon the Admirable. Now, it’s evident he desired a companion in his darkness. While he was banished to the Underworld, he could still wander among Middle-earth, but he could never remain long. Yet, this day would unravel as unlike any before it.
Savouring the cool embrace against her skin, the elf drew a soft breath and surrendered to the cerulean depths. A distant twig cracked, prompting the fawn to lift its head, its breath quickening as its sharp eyes scanned the surroundings before softly returning to its tranquil grazing. He was a masterpiece of deception: long, spun-gold hair that caught the stray beams of light, a jawline carved from ivory, and an irresistible presence that enveloped you in a smouldering, intoxicating heat. He held his breath, captivated by the sight, as he consumed his view. He had ruled the lightless void for an eternity of silence, a king of ash and echoing screams. He had forgotten the scent of living skin until the wind shifted, carrying the fragrance of crushed lilies and honey. Now, seeing her, the void in his chest collapsed. It wasn't mere lust. It was a feeling so violent it nearly brought him to his knees. He recognised those familiar eyes, a mesmerising shade of violet unique to the elves—the unmistakable allure of the High Elven King’s daughter. A smirk built upon Sauron’s lips as he silently observed her bathe. A sly smile played on Sauron's lips as he watched her bathe in silent fascination. His eyes traced the water as it caressed the curves of her breasts, lingered on her delicate, pale hands gliding over the soft swell of her hips, and drank in the trembling vulnerability that infused her every movement. To any other, she was a delicate blossom. To him, she was an unexpected, all-consuming desire. A violent hunger.
He had discovered his treasure, and the dance of the pomegranate had only just commenced.
─ ✧ The heart and soul of my new theme, a Hades & Persephone inspired fic with our beloved dark lord. Some of you have been wondering if my new theme was alluding to a new fic, and this was your little treat. It will be posted soon for you to enjoy <3
Notes: Sequel series to And Comes Dawn. Feedback as always is appreciated. If you wanna show your appreciation in other ways, Kofi is in my bio. Unhinged Sauron is back babyy
You stared up at the night sky, eyes watching the stars as the sound of water sloshed around you. The other survivors were fast asleep, or pretending to be. It was day two on the raft, you remained hopeful that this wouldn’t be the end, you wouldn’t give into the despair of it all. You looked upon the sky and hoped that the Valar would answer the unspoken prayer. You did not want to accept this fate and your faith had not led you astray thus far.
“You suspect they’ll talk back?” Halbrand's voice broke through the quiet of the night, turning to look, his eyes were still closed and arms crossed against his chest. “You’ve been looking at them since they first appeared in the sky.”
“I simply hope that they are listening, somewhere out there.” Your voice is quiet.
He opens his eyes, looking up at the same constellation that you are. “I doubt any of them will save anyone on this raft.”
“You do not know that. There is no hurt in hoping.”
He scoffs, “You and hope. It is almost sickening.”
“And what is wrong with hoping? What harm does it do?” You moved closer to him, almost challenging him.
“What does it do? You sit around, waiting for someone else to save you.”
You roll your eyes, “You mistake hope and laziness. Hopelessness is what inspires you to lay around and do nothing but hope is what inspires us. Armies would not have fought evil if there was no hope, we would burn this raft if there was no hope. Hope is what drives us all and a life without hope is just waiting around.”
Halbrand watches you, he looks as if he’s examining something. Almost like he doesn’t understand who you are. Perhaps he was thinking of whatever evil it was that he had done, perhaps he was thinking he was beyond hope.
“You know, there’s hope for you too.”
He looks at you for a moment more before closing his eyes once more, “Perhaps there is, sweet one.”
~
The dream fades, the edges of it in your psyche burning away like flames to a page, as a new reality overcomes you. It's not a memory of which you are familiar, not a memory of a place you’ve ever been. It smells of death and ash and filth. The air is thick, burning your throat as it fills your lungs. The room itself seems to be made of dirt or mud. Your eyes look around as you try to figure out your new nightmare.
“It brought me great joy to see you still dream of me.” The voice cut through it all, causing you to jump and turn around abruptly.
There he sits, back against the wall and hands in chains. His face dirty and lips chapped, he was continuing his ruse but for what purpose.Your heart and thoughts are conflicted: Anger and betrayal sing out the loudest but there is a part of you that is happy to see that he isn’t harmed. He watches you, eyes glimmering and lips turned in a smirk. He was studying you, watching your reaction with a tilted head as he had done many times before.
“What is it you wish of me?” You watch him with a clenched jaw.
“Is it so wrong for me to check on the woman I love?” He raises an eyebrow, the ghost of a smirk still on his lips.
“You do not know the meaning of the word.” The venom in your voice, running through your veins, you didn’t like it. It was foreign. It wasn’t who you were but the contempt at him for lying to you, using you, manipulating you….
“You are truly foolish if you believe me to be manipulating you,” Any hint of playfulness or levity was gone, his eyes flashing dangerously as he watched you.
“Is that not what this all is? Manipulation. You come to me in my dream, pretending to be in chains, pretending to be hurt.” You glared back at him.
“Pretending?” He scoffs, pushing himself up off the floor. “But I am not pretending, I am not lying to you but I could be anything you wanted to see in me.” Suddenly the chains were gone, his form switching to that of Elrond.
“I could be the elf.” He spoke, taking a step towards you. He switched again, this time the form of an orc.
“I could be one of these monsters. But I come to you as the man you love, as the one who loves you.” He is now Halbrand again. “But I supposed that is a lie too because when I’m with you I’m not Halbrand, I’m not Sauron, I am my true self. That is who loves you. Any face I take, personality I mimic, it matters not. My heart and what soul I have is all yours.”
You stared at him for a moment. “I ask again, what do you wish from me?” You stare coldly at him, but the war within you is reflected in your eyes.
“And I say again, I am seeing to the wellbeing of the woman I love.” His voice booms, it's unnatural how it fills in the room and your head. It's enough to make you close your eyes in fear. He takes that small moment to move so close to you that you feel his breath on your face.
“There is a war that is coming. Remember I do it for you. Remember that this is all for you.”
Hesitantly you open your eyes to look up at him, “Do you really think so little of me that I would want this world of death and ash?”
He scoffs, shaking his head and holding your face in his hand, “No, I think so highly of you that I will baptize this world in blood and fire to make it worthy of you.”
You shake your head, “Then you do not know me at all.” You stare back into his eyes.
“Anger, malice, courage. I’ve not seen them in you like this. Perhaps there are parts of you I do not know, perhaps there's parts of you that you don’t know of yourself.” He looks back into your eyes, forehead resting against yours. “You will come back to me.”
You close your eyes and savor the moment. You feel sick to your stomach that a part of you still longs for this closeness, to be loved by him. A tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his finger.
“You can not escape it, you still love me.” He says softly, his nose brushing yours, one of his hands moving from your cheek, down your next, to rest on your chest in the valley between your breasts. “I can feel your heart beat and I know somewhere in there, I will always have a home.”
You clench your eyes, but you relax into the touch. You allow yourself to have this moment here with him. You are too weak and that will be something you will wrestle with later but now you do not care to dwell on the feeling.
His hand moves down to your waist, guiding you back until you hit a wall. The wood and dirt is uncomfortable against your back but you ignore it for the moment.
“Nothing changes from what you believed before,” He pressed a kiss to your neck. “I will still rule, and you will still be my queen.” He kisses underneath your ear. “Everything I have will also be yours.” He bunches up your dress at your waist, his fingers tracing your thighs.
“Everything I have now or will have in the future belongs to you,” He whispers in your ear, his hand sliding between your thighs. “My heart,” His thumb rubs against your clit, he’s pulled away now to watch your reactions with keen interest, “My soul,” His finger slides into you and he smirks when you gasp. He moves his finger slowly, a growl catching in his throat before he adds a second. “Look at me,” his free hand tilts your face up. You obey, opening your eyes to look at him.
In a second his mouth is on yours, tongue sliding into your mouth. He tastes like ash, the blood from his chapped lips on your tongue. His fingers don’t stop, curling inside of you and rubbing against the spongy flesh. His mouth swallows your moans and you're glad for it, you’re not sure if you want to hear how good he’s making you feel. To know that he still has that level of control over you. You clinch against his fingers, feeling the coil in your belly and suddenly he stops.
He pulls away from the kiss, his pupils blown wide as he stares at you for a moment before dropping to his knees. He hooks your leg over his shoulder and gives no warning before his lips are wrapped around your clit and sucking. You gasp, hand tugging at his hair. Your fingers tangle in his locks and you hold him there. He watches you as he sucks and licks, he’s always made it known that having your taste on his tongue was better than anything else. He’d spent literal hours between your legs with no breaks inbetween. His tongue gently probes before sliding inside, making you moan out loud.
“Hnng…I…if you don’t stop I’m…” you couldn’t form coherent words at this point, your heel pressing hard into his back as his nails dug into your thighs. He didn’t slow down or falter, he simply got more enthusiastic. You could feel his groans vibrating against your core, the lewd sounds of his mouth and your slick filled your ears and that was enough to push you over the edge.
You tugged his hair hard, holding him in place and crying out as you coated his face in your essence. He didn’t stop, not until you had ridden out every last wave and were trembling beneath him. He breaks away, making his way back up to you and, without a word, pressing his mouth back against yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands move of their own accord, you knew it was wrong but you needed it, you tugged at his waist band. He lifts you with ease, pressing his body harder against you to keep you firm on the wall as he hooks your legs around him.
“Look at me,” He murmurs softly, holding your chin in his hands and looking into your eyes. He pushes into you slowly, his lips part and brow furrows. “Thats my girl,” he says with a breath, forehead pressing against yours. His movements are slow but deliberate, knowing exactly how to move to make you come undone under him.
You look into his eyes and the eyes looking back aren't that of the Great Deceiver, but of the man you loved. The man who worked to build a new life for himself for you. The one who was going to be a better man for you. You remembered every touch, how it felt like worship and adoration. How he had taken his love and forged a ring for you.
How could that all be fake? Perhaps, the man you loved and Sauron were one in the same. That would be the hardest truth to face.
“Don't let your thoughts wander,” his voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “Stay with me here, this is the only truth you need to know.” He cups your face, his movements easier as your slick coats his cock.
You gasp softly, words cannot move past your lips. You're too lost in the feeling of it all. You nod softly, looking back into his eyes.
His thumb traces your bottom lip, “Do you truly doubt my devotion to you?”
You shake your head, but that's not enough for him. His movements become rougher but not painful, still drawing soft moans from you. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. “You have words, sweet one. Use them.”
“No,” your voice is heavy but quiet.
“No, what?”
“No, I do not doubt your devotion.”
“Good girl,” his head falls to rest on your shoulder, hand grasping your thigh and fingers bruising the skin. He buries his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his own sounds.
He stays like that, slow thrusts and soft kisses pressed to your neck. The soft gasps fill the air, the slick sound of his cock claiming you. Your throat catches and your heart quickens. You feel it building and you're about to crumble when he moves, holding your face in his hands.
“Look at me, look at me,” he watches you, “Don't close those eyes. That's it,” he groans as you clench around him, reaching your peak with soft moans and fingers digging into his back. He follows you, filling you with his warmth. You can feel him running down your thighs when he pulls out.
He readjusts himself, then smooths your dress and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “You will never be able to deny that the affection and devotion I hold for you is much more than any other. No one will love you as I do. There is none who have loved anything like I love you.”
You close your eyes, the regret seeping through your skin. His words do not comfort you. His fingers wrap around your wrist, holding you in place. “You think you don't belong to me?”
“I know I do not.” Your voice is hoarse and quiet, you dare not look into his eyes.
He growls, “You let me take you, knowing the evil I've done and am. You may doubt it but it is etched into your soul. My touch is burned into your skin.”
As he talks, you feel your skin burn under his touch causing you to cry out in pain. He unwraps his fingers and looks at your wrist. “Now you can never deny it.”
You hiss and gasp, the smell of burning skin - your burning skin - fills the air. You look at your wrist, there's a brand there. You can't read what it says but you know its black speech, the language of Sauron and orcs and evil. It's now burned into your skin.
“You will wake from this but that will never fade.” He moves back to the spot he was before, sitting against the wall. “I will never force you to be with me, though I could. Before this is over, you will choose me.”
The dream fades and you wake, the smell of burning skin hangs in the cool air. You've never felt so hopeless.
a collection of x f & gn!reader stories, some original, some fanfic variants of monster inspired smut scattered throughout march. mdni. this is heavily 18+. << monster fucker march
Note: Last week I stumbled across this post and my wheels immediately started turning. I gave all the tropes a romantic spin because I can. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)
Pairing: TROP Elves x reader (gender neutral*)
Characters:
Arondir: too many beds
Galadriel: academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class
Elrond: really nice guy who hates only you
Adar: fake hating (instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you are not together)
Gil-Galad: fake amnesia
Celebrimbor: love triangle where the two love interests get together instead
Sauron: lovers to enemies
Word count: 3.7k
Warnings: Mentions of injuries (Gil-Galad, Celebrimbor); stabbing, blood and gaslighting (Sauron); *use of the terms Lady and Queen (Adar, Sauron); reader is implied to be an elf
TROP Elves as reverse tropes, sorted from silly to serious
Arondir ⟡ too many beds
The old númenorian village provided plenty of space for the refugees from the Southlands, which would have been cause for celebration considering all circumstances. However, it presented you and Arondir with an unique problem: there were too many beds.
You had been dancing around your feelings for a quite some time. It was certain that you felt something for each other, but expressing it with words was a step you were not yet ready to take. So you had to find other ways to voice your affection. In temporary camps, sleeping places became scarce and the nights turned cold, giving you the perfect excuse to sleep nestled together. You had grown accustomed to the comfort of holding each other, being close in the darkness.
Now there seemed to be no reason to share a bed, as there were more than enough of them. But Arondir could no longer find peace at night without your heartbeat near him, reassuring him of your safety. Therefore, new excuses had to be sought.
Some rooms were out of question because the neighbors snored, which proved unbearable for his sensitive elven ears. In other houses, boards hung loose and the wind blew intolerably cold. One bed was supposedly home to rats that liked to bite at night, while in another, birds had built a nest that he did not wish to destroy. You joined him in the search for reasons, and suddenly two people who had previously been able to sleep in the most humble of circumstances were behaving like fickle royalty.
For every available resting place, you had found a reason the next morning why it was supposedly unusable. Until, after a few days, you had finally excluded all of them, leaving you with no choice but to share the last remaining bed. Arondir felt somewhat embarrassed by the act you two were putting on, but he did not mind. For that evening, he held you in his arms again, his head on your chest, your calm heartbeat lulling him to sleep.
Galadriel ⟡ academic rivals except it’s two teachers
There was some disagreement about how this feud had begun. Part of the blame could certainly be attributed to your stubborn, somewhat fiery temperaments. Some claimed that it had started with a careless joke made by a squire, which he now deeply regretted. Whatever it had been, as usual, you and Galadriel were caught up in a competition and everyone else suffered as a result.
With one crucial difference: this time, the subject of your rivalry was not your own strength, but that of your students. Galadriel was tired of hearing the accusation that she was a worse teacher than you, and you were tired of having your technical weaknesses exposed in comparison to her fighting technique. A good teacher against a good soldier - who would produce better warriors?
In the name of victory, any and all means were acceptable to you. Your students complained amongst themselves that no one in the history of Middle-earth had trained harder than they had to. Galadriel's regiment was tougher, yours required more endurance - relentless were you both. If they had not been so exhausted, your students might have wondered about the source of the fire with which you both burned. For the sparks between you, that set everything ablaze, were far more heated than those of plain rivalry.
The origin of your squires' suffering was by no means envy or pride, as they suspected. Yes, you both had endless ambition and loathed losing, but that was not all. Rather, the reason stemmed from an unfavorable distribution of your talents. For as outstanding as you were as fighters, you were just as miserable when it came to revealing the matters of your hearts.
A frustration flared up inside you whenever you were close, that you could not quite make sense of. This frustration broke through when your swords crossed, or in this case, those of your students. Whenever Galadriel caught that smug look of yours when one of your students disarmed hers, she was consumed by the desire to draw her sword and knock you to the ground, so she could ram her blade into the earth next to your insolent grin. Pinning you underneath her body, and - at this point, her thoughts derailed and she forced them to end by scolding the student.
Your squires feared the day of reckoning when the winner of your contest would be revealed in their soldier's examination. Because even though they did not know exactly why, they had a feeling that none of you would be satisfied with the result, regardless of the victor.
Elrond ⟡ really nice guy who hates only you
In the history of Middle-earth, many questions had deprived the elves of sleep at night. Some of them mundane and private, others of fundamental, if not world-changing importance. The question that remained an unsolved mystery at Lindons court in recent years was the following: How do you make someone as kind as summer hate you?
Lord Elrond was generally known to be an approachable, if not exceptionally gentle, character. If there happened to be two people who could not agree on any subject, they would nevertheless find common ground in the thought that one could not deny Elrond to be a pleasant presence. He forged friendships in the most unlikely places and his diplomatic skills allowed him to get along even with people who were not too fond of him. With one notable exception: you.
It was obvious that Elrond held no sympathy for you since you began your work as scribe in Lindon. Your presence seemed to dim his warm radiance. If you were forced to work together, he would excuse himself as soon as possible to avoid sharing a room with you for a second longer. The court was bursting with theories as to what unforgivable offense you must have committed to cause this behavior. A surprising factor, however, was: you clearly tried to win his friendship.
Whenever you met, you inquired about his well-being with genuine interest, as well as that of his acquaintances. During long meetings, you always noticed when he got fatigued and asked for tea and food to be served. Sometimes you gifted him scrolls you had brought back from your travels, which he was itching to study, even though he never admitted it. No hidden political motives were behind your actions, as some suspected. Unbeknownst to the court and Elrond himself, you had felt an irresistible attraction to him since you first met. So your actions were solely an expression of this affection.
You naturally assumed these feelings to be unrequited. But it was a misunderstanding. Elrond's hatred was indeed the source of strong feelings toward you, just not of the nature they suggested. In truth, they merely served as a shield to prevent him from spiralling even deeper into a hopeless love. Elrond had also fallen for you, only he was under the mistaken belief that you were already promised to another. The culprit was the silver ring you wore, a symbol of two lovers, betrothed to be married. However, it was actually the only memento of your late mother. It was her engagement ring, not yours. When he first noticed it - sliding out from under your robes on the chain you had attached it to so you could wear it close to your heart - it was already too late.
Initially, he simply wanted to put some appropriate distance between you, but his feelings only grew. So he tried to hate you. He really did. But to his misery, loving you was as inevitable as the sunrise. No matter how long the night seemed to last, the light would return and give him the warmth he had been longing for. He simply learned to hide it better. So the answer to the question that kept Lindon awake at night was surprisingly simple - not to mention frustrating.
Adar ⟡ fake hating
Once, Adar had warned Glûg that he should speak more respectfully of you, since one day you would be his Lady Naneth. Glûg had thought his words to be a joke. How could he have believed them? After all, everyone throughout the Southlands knew you and Adar hated each other passionately. What else could explain the frequency with which you crossed blades or the look of satisfaction in Adar's eyes when you knelt before him in chains, if not hatred?
Not that Adar or you would have wanted it any other way. As feigned enemies you could achieve far more than as the lovers you truly were. Of course, he wanted to present you as his own to the whole world and his children, but in the end he followed your wise advice, as he so often did. This charade of hostility was the perfect cover for you to gather information about Sauron and his possible whereabouts among the elves. Only when every last trace of this threat had been eradicated you could leave this life behind and come home to him.
One might assume that it would be difficult to display hatred when one felt connected by love. However, for you, it was merely a necessary play that you had learned to master well. He did not mind if you handled him a little roughly in the heat of combat, and you knew that he would make up for even the slightest cut later with fervent devotion in the most pleasurable way.
The fight between you was just for show and the fire of his intensity born from a completely different source. Eventually, the others would see it too, but the time was not ripe for now. So he slipped you a key after interrogating you in the privacy of his tent in order for you to escape from your cell yet again. The Uruks who came to bring you away did not notice the flush of your cheeks or the light sweat still glistening on his neck. The warmth your skin had left behind was already fading, his heart consumed with longing for you once again. He had to be patient, he told himself, trust in your plan. You would find each other again, you always did.
Gil-Galad ⟡ fake amnesia
Something was wrong. Gil-Galad sensed it as surely as he could taste rain in the air hours before it fell. When the guards rescued a gravely wounded elf from the forest, his council was thrown into turmoil. Gil-Galad had recognized you the moment his eyes fell upon your unconscious face, for your blades had already crossed during Morgoth's invasion of Middle-earth. You were once his subordinate, a former collaborator of Sauron, and, judging by your uniform, now the right hand of a new darkness looming over the world: Adar. But your condition and discovery raised questions. The Council was certain that whatever information they could obtain from you would be of the utmost interest.
Only a problem arose: there was no information to obtain. Your memory seemed to be shrouded in a heavy fog that obscured every recollection. You could not remember your past self, let alone what had happened to you. The healers suggested to Gil-Galad that, with time, you might regain your memories, if Eru so desired. Until then, you were to remain under constant surveillance at Lindon's court, where he could follow your every move.
In truth, however, Eru had no power in this matter, because your memory had never been lost. During centuries of being forced to serve the darkness, you had always been unable to completely banish the longing for light from your soul. Therefore, after countless nights of inner torment, you seized an opportunity to escape, driven by the desire to fight for peace and to free the people from a suffering you had contributed to. Of course, you did not get far before Adar sent a pack of Uruk after you, either to bring you back alive or let you die, his plans unspoken on your tongue.
You nearly lost your life in that forest, but now these injuries served you well, since the elves would surely have doubted this change of heart. So you used them to play the innocently confused. After all, it was easier to believe in the honest intentions of someone who had no memory of their cruel past than someone turning their back on everything they had known before of their own free will.
Nevertheless, you had to find a way to aid Lindon. It was a precarious dance, a carefully constructed performance. By chance, at just the right moment, a memory surfaced in your mind that provided an important clue, while at other times you visibly struggled to find answers to the High King's questions. Sometimes you used other elves as pawns, gently nudging their thoughts in the right direction so that they would come to the realization you needed them to have.
Gil-Galad remained sceptical audience to your performance. It was unsettling to see his enemy so unsuspecting and gentle. One morning, he caught you watching the rising sun, hidden beneath the branches of the Great Tree. As the first light of day touched your face, your breath caught in your throat, a tear of overwhelming joy sliding down your cheek. The sight of this intimate moment came to mind days later during a meeting, whose purpose was to decide your fate in Lindon.
While he normally trusted his instincts, for the first time Gil-Galad felt conflicted. He believed you to be the deceitful serpent he had once encountered on the battlefield. But all your actions so far had been helpful. It did not escaped his notice that you had been manipulating the members of his court, but apparently in order to lead them to a favourable outcome. To make matters more complicated, your whole nature seemed changed. Perhaps - he allowed himself to wish for a moment - you had not changed at all, and this had always been part of who you were.
These questions and contradictions plagued him. He would have to continue watching over you, keeping you close by his side, in order to solve this enigma. But of one thing he was fairly certain by now: your amnesia might be faked, but your desire to help seemed irritatingly genuine.
Celebrimbor ⟡ love triangle but the love interests get together
Celebrimbor had always strived to create objects of great beauty and perfection, and you were his chosen companion in this endeavor. Since you mastered the art of smithing under his guidance, you had risen to become his right hand. Exceeding his expectations, you had grown to be his most valued associate on projects and, more importantly, his confidante. Friendship and a shared vision to create something of true significance bound you together. But now, a fear crept up within you that instead, you were on the verge of destroying something.
All began with the return of Halbrand, who revealed himself as Annatar, messenger of the Valar, and immediately entrusted Celebrimbor with a new project. This development made you nervous. Not because you felt unworthy of the task, but because you feared the feelings that arose in you when Annatar was near. You wanted to devote all your attention to the rings, supporting Celebrimbor, and not indulge in a budding affection.
This concern proved to be justified, as the more time you spent in the heat of the forge, the deeper you fell under Annatars spell. His occasional glances, as if he wanted to devour you, the little compliments he paid you, the accidental touches that lingered a little longer than appropriate - they gave you hope that your feelings were reciprocated. But they also turned your head and heart upside down and wrapped you in a sweet haze that caused you to forget everything else at times. Ever more often, you would wake up completely absorbed in your work, unsure of what you had actually been doing.
At the same time, you noticed that the looks Annatar and Celebrimbor exchanged bore an unsettling resemblance to those between Annatar and you. With growing unease, you observed the familiar way Annatar touched him and the blush that spread across the tips of Celebrimbor's ears. Apparently, Annatar was sharing his affection a bit more freely than you would have liked. And it seemed that Celebrimbor was aware of this too. Increasingly, you found yourselves arguing about the rings, with Annatar stepping in as your judge. Work became a pretext for acting out your jealousy.
What inflamed your anger even more, however, was that you could not even resent Annatar for making you his second choice. Celebrimbor was a brilliant soul, his light capable of illuminating even the darkest night with the vigor of the warm summer sun. When you discussed your craft and exchanged ideas, you felt more elated than ever. His laughter made every part of your heart sing, sometimes so strongly that you had to suppress the urge to reach out and touch him. The longer your rivalry for Annatar's favor continued, the more uncertain you became of whom your jealousy was actually directed at.
One evening, you two got into an argument without Annatar nearby to mediate. In the course of fighting, you came close enough that you could feel the heat of the forge his skin had absorbed. When you questioned his anger towards you - given that he had admitted you were right in terms of technique - Celebrimbor 's words stuck in his throat. His gaze dropped to your lips for a moment, and you almost gave in to the impulse of leaning forward. In the end, he left you without an answer.
When Annatar proved to be something far darker than you could ever have feared, you realized how he had forced a rift between you two. The guilt of not believing Celebrimbor, abandoning someone you loved in a moment of need, nearly tore you apart. You would have never left him behind in Eregion with this demon. Celebrimbor could not compete with you determination to save him, and so you dragged him from the ruins of his city. It would take time to mend your wounds, especially those hidden from the naked eye. Some of them might never fully heal. But one thing was certain: from now on, you would do everything in your power to stop Sauron together.
Sauron ⟡ lovers to enemies
There was a time when darkness covered Middle-earth like the blood-soaked cloak of an eternal night, and in the midst of this darkness burned Sauron's fire. With the scorching heat of the sun's never-ending flame, it devoured everything within its path. Sauron himself dreaded the relentlessness of it, for he sensed that the fire that fueled him would never be satisfied until it had burned even him out to the last.
But he discovered a remedy: you. You enlightened the night with the gentle radiance of the moon, graciously roaming the world to bathe it in a soft silence. Your soul was the dark sea that knew no end, capable of quenching any fire. He wanted to lose himself in you forever. You were lovers, two souls bound together in darkness with one goal: to heal Middle-earth. Sauron's vision of an orderly world was only complete with you as queen by his side, and he would see to it. He would perfect the world to lay it at your feet.
But things turned out differently. On the day of his coronation as Morgoth's successor, which you both had so eagerly awaited, Adar rammed the crown into his back instead of placing it on his head. And you? You just stood there - next to this lowly, deformed creature - and did nothing. You looked down on him as his blood drenched the cold stone. A tear escaped your eyes, just as you turned away. How could you dare to tear your gaze away from him! The betrayal tore him apart beyond what any of the blades that savaged his body could have done.
Your betrayal left a rift so deep, he would never recover from it. All that kept him alive now was the fire of fury. His encounter with Galadriel momentarily made him consider embarking on a new path. However, even she led him back to his desire to unite Middle-earth, to rule. And her light, which had once reminded him of you and drawn him to her, eventually burned too bright, blinding him and making him long for your tender shimmer. Not everything had been a game with her, his feelings were no lie at first, but after a while, Galadriel too became a means to his end. The crown he promised her would never touch her head, since it was meant for another.
Even after the pain of your deceit, he still desired you. Finally meeting you again reaffirmed this certainty. You, the storm that swept him away, pulling him into the deep sea, as it had so many times before. With one difference: you were no longer on his side. After your ploy with Adar, you had fled and aligned yourself with the elves of Lindon. Sauron could not refrain from admiring your ability to gain the trust of your enemy so easily. Not that it surprised him. After all, who would have the fortitude to refuse you?
But it was infuriating how quickly you had abandoned your dream. You claimed your vision had been a mistake, that he would destroy Middle-earth just as Morgoth once had. You wanted to repent, stop him to absolve your guilt. The lies told by the Elves had already clouded your mind. How could you have succumbed to their misconceptions while knowing the truth, knowing him? But you did not have to worry, he would not forsake you.
How could he? You no longer averted your gaze from him. Instead of your tender lips, your blade kissed his skin, but the feeling of cold steel sinking into his hot blood aroused him all the same. You may believe that you found a new home in Lindon, but they would never truly honor your magnificence. Not that it mattered. In the end, they would kneel at the feet of their queen, he would make sure of it. Even if it meant binding you to your throne through violence.
