the light of crowns, the dark of dreams

[eyefire]

( from here. )
[ "Hold onto me and we shall fly like dragons."

The firestorm that spins up from the ground to surround them exists outside a thin barrier that his power keeps from doing any harm, whirling up with magma from the rocks beneath their feet until all sensation of standing is gone and there is a freefall, like flying perhaps, for a host of seconds where he cradles Adar to keep him from falling into the nothingness of a world absent outside the tornado. The lava hardens, the hot breeze dies down, and their feet touch a floor of shining obsidian very much like the kind that plated Angband.

He listens to Adar's breathing for a moment, enjoying how loud it is, then the circular wall around them cracks and falls away, crumbling to reveal a room full of inky shadow and an unseeable ceiling. A bed towers close by, the posters of it hung with satin so smooth it could be oil-slick, and all is silent.

Sauron's soft golden glow illuminates a little, but he raises a hand from Adar and ignites the candelabra overhead to assist with a dim light like sunset. All the while, his gaze never leaves his uruk general. ]

Welcome.