eyefire | but don't make me your enemy

[He hadn't known exactly what this would entail (nor had he any wish too, if he was honest), but the sight he sees as it slowly registers in his mind is certainly not what he might have ever conceived of on his own. It takes a few moments for him to even settle on Sauron, there is so much blood it burns his nostrils, the metallic scent threatening to overwhelm his still dizzy head before his eyes finally settle on the fire of Sauron's and then flick down to the child.

Their child.

Somehow he didn't think Melian had had this much trouble, but he also didn't really know if Sauron had used other means to alter the child before it was born and so needed more than usual means to bring it forth. He didn't even know if there were usual means in a case like this. He talks a step inside, then another as Sauron approaches him, his eyes fixed now on the child.]

A son. [He repeats, almost disbelieving that any of this is real. It doesn't feel real. It feels like his nightmares and dreams have taken up a dance and come to haunt his waking mind. He takes the child when it is offered, easily holding him. It was a familiar thing, children were so cherished by the elves that he had before the war held many even though he had none of his own, and in Angband he had sometimes snuck in to hold the little orcs that came from his flesh before they too quickly grew and became things he could not soothe.

This baby though was perfect and Adar finds himself entranced by him. He traces, so gently, along the babys cheek, his sweet little chin.] He is beautiful.

He is your flesh and my spirit, I have given him a sliver of the divine. Of me.

[ Head hanging and shoulders rounded, Sauron accepts the black robe draped over him by the entwives who begin to clean up in his wake. He ignores them, eyes on the babe and Adar, intent with interest. ]

He was difficult to bring into this world.

[ Sauron is a remaker of flesh, he cannot create from nothing; Adar was the base for the child, others shredded into the materials needed to build a powerful elven-maia without the use of a natural womb like Melian's. The baby is caramel-skinned, touched by the warmth of flames with golden hair, but when it opens its squinty eyes those are green. It is not an orc, not an uruk. ]

[It takes just one arm to support the child properly, and when Sauron is robed and after Adar has marvelled at their son for a moment or two longer, Adar does something he has never done spontaneously. Not in all the years Sauron has known him. He steps closer and then with the arm he had been letting their child grasp he hugs him if the Maia will allow it, more of a thank you than any words would ever adequately surmise.

The joy that fills his chest overrides any and all terror and confusion that the scene around them and the possibilities of the future could hold. His smile broad, tears of joy in his eyes as he turns his head enough to look at the child again. He has no words for anything in that moment.]

[ He arches a brow and allows the embrace, half-leaning into Adar as they admire their work. When he offers the child a finger it gurgles and reaches for him blindly, sensing his power, and grips the tip. ]

It is a ... curious thing.

[ Love is not unknown to him, and he does care for the baby. It is part of him, his property, his ... family? The elves would call it something inanely similar. Adar is made up and that is what Sauron wanted, so all is well. A gentle prod at his heartstrings cannot hurt to tighten them further. ]

May I leave our son with you while I recover? Your rule will stand in place of mine, within these chambers.

[ Do whatever the fuck you want, buddy. Someone needs a nap. ]

[It will be a while before he notices he grabbed and hugged Sauron like he was any old elf Adar had once been fond of, though the thought may well haunt him when he does. Especially given that they were not yet alone.

He looks at Sauron when he speaks again, nodding.]

Of course, my lord. [he could not be safer with anyone else save for Sauron. The child did not yet have a name and yet Adar would gladly kill anyone who tried to harm him.] I am at your service. [Is he talking to Sauron or the babe? Only Eru knows. He does disentwine himself at least to allow Sauron to go without having to shrug him off. Adar's attention on the babe, to whom he coos softly as his little hands grasp at Adar's fingers.]

[ Charmingly engrossed, just as intended. Sauron retreats for the rest of the day to take a maian version of a nap in his bedchamber, essentially sending his mind into a coma so his rent spirit and body can heal. He feels Melkor's presence in his mind and settles under a dark blanket of shadows, soothed. Praised.

Entwives bring the baby milk in bottles, apparently far hungrier than the average child. They bring a black crib with soft blankets, tiny little balls of plush sewn to resemble Simarils acting as toys. If Adar wishes to feed the boy or request nourishment for himself, they let him. He is served without hesitation or question. ]

[He spends the day hardly putting the child down at all, gladly walking with him and feeding him, singing to him softly in elvish the same songs he had once sung to his siblings to help them get to sleep. The child looks nothing like them, really, but he is family and Adar could not think about anything but that sweet face the entire day.

He eats at some point, the child eats seemingly endlessly. He notes the crib, the humourous choice of bauble for it and still doesn't set him down. He has no interest in losing any amount of time he might be granted with such a happy, perfect little babe whose life might actually be worth living.

By the end of the day he is nestled on a soft chair, the babe asleep against his chest while he croons softly to it, an old song one of his grandparents had taught him long ago. His eyes are closed as he just enjoys himself and the weight and scent of the babe that lays on him.]

[ When he wakes he can sense the baby nearby, the lack of real distance a comfort. Sauron rises as night falls, not that there is much difference in hue beyond the windows, dressing simply in a red robe as he listens to the song in the other room. He is a creature of song and adores it still, not so much how disruptive it can be (not everyone can sound like mountains splitting like Morgoth) but for the spell it weaves over souls.

He has not sang in a long time.

When he does it is not what the Ainulindalë sounded like because that would be impressively foolish to imitate, but it is ... reminiscent of his part. The baby, at peace with Adar, blinks open its eyes and stares up at Adar, listening to the toned-down song as the lieutenant wanders into the room. The music sloughs off the worst of Gorthaur the Cruel and by product of what it is returns him to the fairer state of Mairon, briefly to elven eyes, than his own body can achieve when he shuns such ties.

He comes to sit beside the pair, a gentle hand curling atop the baby's head as it watches him while cradled in Adar's arms. ]

[Adar's whole world for the day had shrunk down to the child he bore with him wherever he wandered in the room, or as he did now, sat holding. He doesn't hear any telltale sign that Sauron might have awoken, or sense him as he usually might, all too aware of his master's presence. He is so absorbed in memorising the child's face that it is not until he hears the soft, haunting melody that Adar remembers they are not alone. His own song falls silent as he turns his head to look at Sauron making his entrance and then sitting beside them.

He could forget, sometimes, that Sauron was Sauron and not however he had been once (a being he knew only small moments of but could not stop being haunted by).] He is a calm child, mostly. He hungers. [Adar says softly. Of course, few elven children fussed. That was not how they were, but who was to say what this child might be like? Adar could not guess. The choices were many between the two of them, or even just in Sauron himself.]

He knows we are here, knows us.

[ Sauron holds up a finger in front of the baby and lights the tip on fire, swaying it back and forth, and like the clever thing it is the baby's gaze follows. Not a normal elven child, but smarter already. Hours old and a little thoughtful, a little larger than a newborn. When it reaches for the fire Sauron does not move his hand away and lets it grab ...

He smiles when the baby isn't burned, an infantile giggle spilling free as it swats at the flame. ]

Edited 2022-12-14 18:38 (UTC)

[It is hard not to swat the fire away but he manages, even if his fingers twitch with the urge as he watches, breath held until the child grabs the finger and is unbothered by the flame. If anything, the babe enjoys it.

Definitely actually Sauron's child.]

Well, that is some relief, at least.

Clever thing.

[ He sits up, touching the babe's head lightly and bidding it to sleep. It seems to understand and yawns, snuggling back into Adar's arms. ]

The entwives will assist in raising him, you need not stay if you have duties. I have kept you overlong while I rested.

[ It is not so much a dismissal as a test to see how closely Adar has bonded to the baby already. ]

There is nothing I might do that will go untended too without me. [he answers so quickly that his expression doesn't even have time to fully form on his face until after he has spoken. A deep frown, dissatisfaction at the possibility of being cast out, away from the child or even Sauron. Even more so at the possibility of the entwives caring for him.]

[ Sauron's approval is a quiet secret thing, permission to stay granted in the kiss he drops on Adar's temple. ]

Then we will need a bed for you by the crib, if you will not leave your new charge.

[ You are mine again, more than ever before. ]

I have not yet put him down. Not really. [he had let the child rest in his lap at one point so he had both hands to eat, but he had not allowed him to be entirely removed from him, not even once, not even by the entwives who an elf should be naturally inclined to trust.]

Bed or not I will be fine, my lord. [Rest didn't seem to matter that much, not for himself when there was a child to keep watch over.]

You will have a bed and you will use it, you will eat and rest as is required. The babe is quite safe: I will not have him removed from these chambers.

[ There is softness in his tone but steel in the orders laid beneath. Just because there is a baby he will not have Adar become stupid with affection for it, he can deal with that trait or suffer to be removed from the boy altogether.

Sauron leans over the baby again, brushing curled fingers down his rosy cheeks. ]

A while longer, but you must see to your duties eventually.

I have eaten. [He protests, quietly.] Babies like to be held. [There might be scores of children within Angband at any given time, but that didn't mean that Sauron knew much about them. Adar was not convinced he did, at any rate.] I used to carry my sister all the time when she was small. It did her no harm. [It is not often Adar mentions either of his siblings, but least of all his little sister who had been the only one of them sensible enough to stay in Aman.]

But as you wish. [As if he could safely refuse.]

[ Look at all these little details spilling free, unchecked and unguarded. The baby was worth this moment alone. ]

I am not trying to be unreasonable: you are now a father, truly, and have a son worth raising. You wish to be with him because he will not forget you. I understand these things.

[ It is not an orc. ]

No more quarrelling. I am hungry too, that little creature took the wind out of me.

[ Food had better appear out of the shadows on a servant in the next five seconds to appease hangry!maia. ]

Edited 2022-12-14 19:36 (UTC)

[He normally would have bristled, even if he wouldn't have the argument with Sauron about the souls of his uruk children that he might have with a lesser being, but tonight he barely blinks at the implied insult to the untold number of others he has caused to come into the world. He does glance at Sauron, curiously, because while some of that reasoning was correct it was far from the whole picture. Even the maia did not see everything, always.

And the servants who had been hovering around to help Adar are quick to jump into action for their master, bringing him a feast to be spread out on the low table near the lounge that they sat upon.]

You are both ravenous creatures. [He says softly, amused. He certainly got more than his hair and fireproofing from Sauron.]

[ Orcs are worth nothing; Adar is lucky he is more elf than uruk, though Sauron will never tell him so. ]

He gets his quietness from you.

[ Sauron would not mind if the baby was tearing the place apart but there's definitely a calm to it that stems from Adar. As he helps himself to the meat on offer, he signals to the servants for a blanket to drape around his shoulders, less warm than usual as a part of him burns within the child. It will take some getting used to. ]

Do they not scream more?

[ The orc ones do, little monsters ready to sink their tiny fangs into the closest flesh. ]

[The looks Sauron is getting from him are certainly entirely elven in nature and cheek. No simple Uruk would give him such open expressions willingly.]

Why should a child scream? He does not hunger, he is not wet, he is not alone. Those are most of the reasons a child might fuss.

The Uruk children scream because of all of those things, and their [twisted] nature. Elvish children do not. [Perhaps Fëanor had and that was why his mother quit the world but he could not rightly say.]

[ He is rather certain the infant orcs scream because they are horrid creatures, he did after all see to their nature being bred into them himself. They are violent and survive well enough on their own. Why coddle predators?

He shrugs, stuffing a fork of meat into his mouth to chew. ]

I know little of children, having never been one.

[That was exactly why Adar seldom bothered to try to argue that particular line of thinking with Sauron, in truth. Even without the weakness it showed in him to care so much about such broken children.]

I have been a child and never a maia, so we will both be of use to him.

He likes the same songs my sister did. I had never thought to sing them again.

Has a name come to you yet?

[ He is practically attached to it. ]

[He could think of a dozen names for his son, but almost none of them felt like they had the right amount of threat to them that the child might someday need if Sauron was not near at hand to keep him safe. So he picks none of those and offers one he would not suggest otherwise, instead:]

Nárendur, perhaps?

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