eyefire | but don't make me your enemy

[ 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?

[ Very subtle. Sauron slides a look at him, patient. ]

You have one son. Is that the name you wish to be his essi?

[ Sauron will take a great many liberties when the boy is grown and shape him in many ways Adar will not like, but this small choice is his gift to him for the part Adar has played. ]

No. [He will not lie, not over this, but he shifts in his seat so he is angled more towards Sauron, so he can look at him properly. The babe is still asleep against his chest, easily held by one tireless arm.]

But names have meaning, more in this place than any other. No one uses mine, and I assume you would not long use his if I gave him something soft or kind. Servant of the fire is what he will be, whether I will it or not.

[ Tilting his head thoughtfully, he brushes down the infant's back and makes a decision to circumvent Adar's wretched problem. ]

I can feel him, as he feels me. When he is too far from me he will wander back to safety under dark, that I already know as well as any mother who tore her flesh to bring their child into the world. [ His gaze flicks up, golden eyes steady. ] So, I see no need to wait and will give him a name that will be used within and without Angband, used to honour the place he was born and under the dominion of the one who allowed him to come to be.

He shall be Morgil, the Blackest Star. Born from fire under shadow. He will shine where no other could.

[ It will make Morgoth happy and it has a dramatic flair that will stick. Sauron inclines his head to Adar. ]

Now you may name him whatever you wish.

[His body is easy to give up, desirable too even. But his mind, his desires, his secret thoughts? He squirrelled them away like he was expecting an unforgiving winter and it was hard to force himself to push past the practised responses and allow himself to be seen to be vulnerable and to do so willingly and not just by force.

That is what this requires. To name his son something he might have named him if the world were still bright and shimmering and if he was still fair and carefree. That is what is asked of him.

Show me your heart might as well be the request. The "gift".

Every answer he can think of he fears even as he listens to the foul and prophetic name Sauron gives this sweet-faced babe who sighs softly in his sleep, breathing in time with Adar. Naming his children has always been a secret thing, whispered in the dark to ears that will likely forget him, never on purpose but in due course.

He looks down at the babe. There is nothing about him that seems like a black star. He leans down, brushing a soft kiss over his brow and breathing in the scent of new life that was not fouled by darkness yet.]

Let it be Etelehtio, then. [A name suited for whichever way their son might go, be it like Sauron or Adar in nature. Yet it was also a name with the taste of Adar's subversive wants in it.] Little Etelo.

[ Doesn't know why he's surprised that the name was so ... weirdly insulting. Backhanded, as insults go. ]

Very well.

[ The baby can be Etelo until he can walk and talk, Adar's little project. Sauron peers at the baby, looking him over. ]

He will grow quickly, your time will be best spent with him now.

[He's almost as surprised that Sauron allows it. The child is no orc, he will remember the name even if its usage does not last outside of this room. It is oddly satisfying to "win" something, even though it is a battle in a war he is sure he has already lost.]

Did you not just tell me I must soon return to my duties? [A whole lot of sarcasm belongs there but doesn't actually roll off of his tongue, he manages to make it sound like gentle inquiry even though he held the very same thought in his mind. If he leaves, the child will grow and will forget him. Will only know Sauron and entwives and Eru knows what else.]

I do not think it is worth the effort of Gothmog tearing your arms off, as that would clearly be the only way you will set down that child.

[ Sigh. ]

He has his own duties too.

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