#second age au

[pursuitseternal]

I give you “The Gift of Devouring:” a spicy update to “The Best Gift of them All…”

Chapter Summery: As work on the Rings progresses, Galadriel finds herself alone once more with Lord Annatar, a dangerous place to be for one who is so hungry and willing to also be devoured.

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Annatar x Galadriel | Explicit | 4.5K

CW: Outdoor sex, hate sex, animal based banter, allusion to Silvergifting, adultery

From Chapter 4…

“Hmmm,” he purred, trailing his kisses down to the pale skin of her chest, to where her breasts strained against the neckline of her dress, raggedly rising and falling under his attentions. “Much must be utilized in their production, those rings. It often leaves me unable to sleep, to eat, to drink.”

His hand scooped into that neckline, retrieving one breast for him to suckle, to lick and nip.

“You do not look exhausted, or starved or dying, Lord Annatar,” she rasped, arching her back into the workings of his mouth.

“Looks can be deceiving,” he breathed, and she could feel his lips twisting in a smirk against her nipple, her flesh. “For I am most certainly starved for you,” he rasped, dragging his teeth over her nipple. She hissed in pain, bracing against his body as if she could break from his hold.

But he was strong, those rises and ridges of his chest and his arms flexing like the iron he smelted. She could feel his hand bundling and bunching his tunic beneath her. Gathering the fabric higher and higher. Suddenly, his hands roamed over her legs, doing the same with her skirts, the garden air chilling them. Her skin so hot and flushed. “Now be good, lavanen…”

“Cease comparing me to an animal,” she hissed, angling her body higher on his lap to try and shiver her face in his. Lips twisted in an amused sneer, as if she bared her fangs to him.

And Annatar only laughed. “Cease?” he chuckled, gripping his hand harshly at the back of her skull. “Why should I cease it when it drives you wild? When it peels away that cold, distant Lady of the Eldar veneer you have refined so well only to have your claws come out, your pussy wet just for me?”

Her eyes flickered to his mouth, watching his lips forming such horrible words, and yet, she could not stop herself from the longing to feel them again. To taste them, to have them sucking on other parts of her body. This instant.

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[veilfireshadows]

No help ever came from the West.

If the pleas of Elwing and Earendil ever reached the Valar, it was unknown to those in Beleriand. The West was silent as it had ever been as the years of the First Age of the Sun drew to a close.

When Beleriand fell, it did not sink beneath the hungry waves of the Sea as the Valar warred against one formerly of their own order. It sank beneath waves of darkness as Melkor’s might and influence grew.

The Elves fled East, abandoning long homes and cajoling the faithful among Men to go with them beyond the Misty Mountains. Some did, some refused and were lost to history. 

And thus the Second Age of Middle Earth began.

The raising of strongholds began again, sturdier this time, as Men and Elves built cities together. Sindar and Ñoldor elves spat fire and rage at each other as old hurts and blame came between them and could not be reconciled. The Sindar left the strongholds of the Two Kindreds, and fled to the forests that had always been home to their peoples, becoming shadows among the trees and strong in illusionary magics, taking residence with their Silvan kin.

The Ñoldor, great builders of Elvenkind that they were, turned their attention to defence and to weapons, putting aside the differences of their noble houses - what use was the petty squabbles between the Curufinwions and Nolofinwions when dragons raged in their skies? Their leaders were Galadriel, and her husband Celeborn, Gil-Galad, and Cirdan - and so the Two Kindreds dwelt in wary safety in their three new cities, waiting for help that never came.

And deep below the Earth, the Dwarves fortified their halls and chambers, creating and guarding ferociously against all who would dare trespass against them.

So focused were they all on the threat in the West, beyond the Misty Mountains, that they did not see the trap until it was too late. For Sauron, Lieutenant of Melkor, had claimed lands of his own in the East, in the lands that would come quickly to be known as Mordor. And so the trap was sprung: trapped between East and West, with no hope of escaping back to Valinor.

But those who dwelt in that Second Age were not given to despair. Celebrimbor, a grandson of Feanor, made his own stronghold, and spent much of his time earning the trust of the Dwarves of Khazad-dum, and in time, learning much of their secret crafts. He and his trusted few smiths began to make Rings of Power - though intended first and foremost to protect the Peoples of Middle-Earth, they were weapons of dangerous strength. The most powerful of these he gave to Galadriel and Cirdan and Gil-Galad, and seven he gave to the Lords of the Dwarves, and nine to the Kings of Men ruled alongside the Lords and Ladies of the Elves - though these seven and nine were only slightly lesser to the three.

And for a time, it seemed like these Rings turned the tides - no longer were the Free Peoples pressed from every side, for the gifts bestowed upon those that were Ringbearers revealed themselves as what was most needed - healing and nurturing of body and land, warmth and endurance of spirit that could rally morale, courage and clear-headedness in times of strife. It strengthened Elven magics, bolstered Dwarven stamina and strength, extended the lives and hardiness of Men. These Rings they kept secret from the Enemy and for a time, confounded their dominion.

But treachery came into the land of Celebrimbor - for how could he turn away his own uncle, Maedhros, son of Feanor? But he was not Maedhros at all, but Sauron the Shapeshifter, who knew well the body and manners of the eldest Feanorion, having long held him captive in the Elder Days. Thus Sauron was taken into the heart of Celebrimbor’s confidences and lands, and the Enemy learned of the Rings of Power.

Too late was Sauron’s deceit revealed and Celebrimbor and his people were taken or killed and the secret of Ring making stolen by the Enemy. Sauron kept this secret from his Master and made himself a Master Ring - the One Ring that would have dominion over all the others. Melkor, knowing all that Sauron did, made no move to claim this Ring from his Lieutenant, content to wait and watch the Free Peoples struggle in vain against them.

With the forging of the One Ring, the Free Peoples knew they could wait no longer - if Celebrimbor was alive and tortured, then the identities of all the Ringbearers and the locations of their strongholds would all be revealed to the Enemy. An Alliance was forged and the Great Army of the Forsaken marched on Mordor. Few stayed behind to guard their strongholds, but many thousands of Elves and Men and even Dwarves marched on the Black Gates.

And there they fell in their droves against the power of the One. Gil-Galad and Elendil fell, and many other leaders and strong warriors of the time - and Sauron gained for himself many of the Seven and the Nine in those dark days.

And so, with the defeat of the Great Army, the Second Age of Middle Earth also ended, and a Third Age began…

[therapardalis]

[Moonlight Aesthetic from @vicit-vim-virtus for Elrond.]

(🐺) Our muses hear howling in the distance. ------------

Thera lifted her head as the first long note floated on the air - paused, listening, as it trailed away. New she might be to the lands and ways of the Elves, a thorn among the roses - but she had grown up surrounded by farmland and forest, and that was a sound she knew.

Silence didn't quite settle before other voices answered, carried down through the Valley on the evening breeze. Three? No, four, lifting and lilting in chorus.

"It's spring, isn't it?" Not asked of anyone in particular, though she had company on the balcony who would easily hear. "That doesn't seem like a hunting call."

[undercat-overdog]

@simaethae replied to your post:

From a Second Age AU which I am definitely not...

YES PLEASE i would very much like to read this [big eyes emoji]

@alikuu said: 

You can’t leave it here 😢😢 this is so good!! Please write more!

I have many Thoughts on this AU! Trouble is that, unlike Sauron, I cannot plot. 

I know the broad outline of how the divergence point (Sauron staying with the Mirdain, no one tortured to death) plays out and I definitely know how Numenor’s attitude towards the Elves changes and why they fixate on the elven kingdoms in ME rather than Aman. But I’m not sure how Numenor’s efforts to colonize Eriador go, nor am I sure exactly what goes on in Numenor after Sauron gets there, other than that no one knows Annatar is Sauron and that there’s (probably) less human sacrifice and Morgoth worship. He still talks Pharazon into invading Aman, though, since they attacked his elf and city - getting an island tsunamied is totally a reasonable and rational response.

Plus, it’d really be two fics? One about how Sauron doesn’t fail his (very shallow) repentance, and one, a couple millenia later, about how Numenor tries to colonize Eriador and Sauron’s subsequent Plot. Or maybe not, since I’d have to show the elves noticing the gradual evolution in Numenorean culture over the centuries, but tonally it would be off, going from shipfic to something more plotty and gen-ish.

But have the following paragraph, featuring a small reference to Celebrimbor’s xeno kink, since you can never go wrong there:

The Sea-Adan was no doubt looking intently at him, but Annatar kept his submissive pose and used the time to subtly alter the body he wore, bringing it in appearance closer to the Secondborn. The fall of his hair covered his ears – good, they wouldn't notice if he rounded them. The fingers he shortened too, and made broader, and the teeth he made blunter (pity, that: Tyelperinquar liked their sharpness, as he liked all the little touches that read to incarnate eyes as wrong). The eyes he kept, though, the flat gold alien to Eldar and Edain alike. Let him seem to them less threatening and less elven, but let them not forget he was one of the lesser gods.

[undercat-overdog]

From a Second Age AU which I am definitely not writing, in which Sauron doesn’t forge the One Ring, Numenor arises in might, and Annatar still causes the Akallabeth.

~~~

Tyelperinquar was no warrior. His body remembered the motions of craft, not those of battle: his muscles knew how to create, not how to kill. It was no surprise, really, that, outmatched and outnumbered, they found themselves here. Many of Tyelperinquar's fellows lay dead, but their enemies knew who he was: him they would not kill, not with the knowledge in his mind they were jealous for. Seeing him like this, held captive between two Men, forced to his knees, pain and blood on his face... He was still so very fair.

His Tyelperinquar was a body, with all the physical limitations that entailed, all the weaknesses, all the susceptibility. Annatar knew very well how a body could be turned against itself, against the soul held within it. It had never troubled him while in Melkor's service to cause torment: it had been interesting at first, seeing how the nerves and muscles and bones worked, how they were designed, the reactions he could cause, but it was the knowledge he had taken enjoyment in; the screaming that delighted Melkor had been tedious to his servant: there were more amusing games to play with foes. He rarely thought of those times, not since his old master had been defeated, but now he remembered every vivisected torso, every flayed back, every mangled hand. He doubted any among the Númenóreans had his own skill, but it was not difficult to cause pain.

Annatar had a sword pointing at his own neck, and he himself was physically bound to his body: it was changeable enough, but he could no longer put it on or off at will, not while Tyelperinquar lived (and he would, Annatar would not allow it to be otherwise). But he was still one of the lesser gods, and powerful among his kind. Before he had found a better master, and then a better partner, he had served the god of craft and matter, and the secrets of metal and earth were known to him.

He grasped the blade of the sword and it melted with his touch. The man holding it threw the hot hilt down with a cry of pain; others among the mortals stank of fear. He heard Tyelperinquar suck in a breath. Annatar did not let himself look at him, but instead took two steps forward and sank gracefully to his knees before the Númenórean commander. He bowed his head and waited.

~~~

As for how they managed to lose whatever battle they were in, I wouldn’t call physical combat the strong suit of either.