Entry tags:
the light of crowns, the dark of dreams

( 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.
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Yet despite all of those mixed feelings, he kisses his master back. His hands coming from his thighs to tangle in that beautiful golden hair and cradle his cheek. Adar was breathless, stealing what air he could as their lips moved together. Sauron was so beautiful that Adar was half convinced Ilúvatar was having a laugh the day he made him. For even though he could assume so many forms, he certainly had a taste for fairer ones, a taste that seemed built-in from the start. And he was so beautiful, and so terrible all at once.]
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What a way to ensure favouritism ...
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It was sweetly domestic, if you knew nothing about either of them.]
I never did enjoy failing you. [For several reasons, at first simply because of the pain involved but later, when he was properly reformed into a Uruk there had been a deeper urge that had little to do with the terror he could evoke.]
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[ He laces their fingers together, playing with Adar's hand on his chest. Much toastier than before, the shadows reclaim the room as a steady fireplace keeps itself in one place nearby, providing a dull golden light. ]
You did very well, I am pleased.
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Thank you, my lord. [His smile softens a little to something more genuine.] For allowing me to.
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Sleep now. When you wake, we shall dine.
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And then he sleeps, easily for once. Without too many dreams (or nightmares). Just the warm comfort of not being so alone for once.]