Visions of Betrayal
date posted: this is another one of those old stories i did ages ago. going through a writers block so im just posting up old ones.
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He had given him good chance. Asked him nicely, dazzled him with promises of riches and the world if only Gandalf would just admit that he was made to be with him, with Sauron. Power like that needn't go wasted and Saruman was determined to make sure that it didn't. The two were standing in his high chamber, almost at the top of the Tower of Orthanc. The air was very thin.
"Saruman," Gandalf said flatly, "I have heard speeches of kind before, but only in the mouths of emissaries sent from Mordor to deceive the ignorant. I cannot think that you brought me so far only to weary my ears."
Saruman walked to the friend he'd had since childhood slowly, his hands clasped behind his back and his head to the floor, till he stood so close that they felt each others breath, he raised wide, innocent blue eyes to look at him and said,
"Why , of course not. I plan to weary much, much more then your ears."
With that he gripped Gandalfs wrists tight and forced him against the wall. A green light shone between his fingers and strong, magically conjured manacles appeared around Gandalfs wrists and locked him to the stone surface. He unclenched his hands from the death grip he had on his friend to run them down his face in a parody of a caress.
"There is so much you and I could do together. We could own the world, the stars -- each other!" Saruman descended upon his friends mouth like a vulture, forcing his tongue deeply down his throat. When they broke apart Gandalf scrunched up his face in disgust and spit in Sarumans eyes.
"I don't play with broken toys!" He ground out through clenched teeth.
"TOY?!" Saruman screeched and slapped Gandalf hard across the face, splitting his lip. "If anyone here resembles a toy," he sneered, "then YOU do! Running around with those brat boy kings, pretending to be the surrogate father they never had, while dirty hobbit creatures gaze up at you in ignorant wonder, wanting only to see you pull one more rabbit out of your ass!"
Gandalf, undaunted by the insult and determined to stay calm, gazed back at him with steady, steel gray eyes. "You think yourself cunning, clever, even to go so far as actually powerful." The last word was dripping with sarcasm. "When in reality you are nothing more than a pawn in Sarumans designs. A shiny noisy, back stabbing, expendable pawn." He said this so softly, and with such assurance that it broke through to Sarumans mind, if only for a minute or two.
And Saruman doubted. \
He doubted himself, he doubted his past, doubted if he had any future at all if he kept going down this path! Was he wrong? What was he doing?! He and Gandalf had played together as little children. Almost best friends. But then he felt a soft touch in the back of his mind, and a whisper he know too well by now. Sauron.
Sauron entered his mind with a gentleness that he hadn't felt from the man before...a tenderness he didn't even know existed in the world, and he closed his eyes.
Stop now, easy.. That was then, and this is now. And now you are enemies. Friends do not stay friends forever. Keep going.
"But how!" he silently asked the Voice. He now felt a sharp pain in his temples and the Voice changed its tone dramatically, shouting inside his head.
FOOL! CHILD! Have you remembered nothing I have taught you? Or were my lessons just not as important as the other urgent matters you have to attend to?
He inwardly flinched at the harsh words, and send desperate "NO!" messages to the Voice. "NO! Just please make the pain go away!" The Voice seemed to snort and then softened a bit.
There are two basic methods of persuasion; physical and mental. Try physical first, as we would want him in the best mental condition possible if his magic will be any use to us. But do not be afraid to break him down mentally as a last resort. In any case we can use him, we need him.
And with that statement a wind ruffled his hair and the Voice left him, giving him a familiar empty ache in his heart. He quickly regained composure, stroking Gandalfs face where he had just slapped it. "You'll come around," he said simply, softly. But his voice darkened with the last words he said before leaving his old friend ganging on the wall,
"I'll make you."
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Two days. Two days Gandalf the gray had been chained to the same wall. No food, no water, no company.He expected every moment for Saruman to waltz in and feed him, talk to him, yell at him, hurt him, something'but nothing at all for two days. He repeatedly tried to call on his magic but only weakened with every attempt. Something in the room,an anti-magic spell, maybe even the manacles around his wrists could be draining him.
His tongue swelled in his mouth, and his vision was rapidly turning gray and hazy. Then, on the dawn of the third day, Saruman came in. He had a bowl of soup and a glass of water in his hands. He knelt in front of Gandalf and greeted him politely.
"I thought you would be hungry." Gandalfs throat was too dry to form a response. "I hope you like this, I make it myself." Saruman lifted a spoonful and held it to Gandalfs lips. The wizards gray eyes stared back in hatred but the inside of him was rejoicing as the hot liquid slid down his throat, followed by a sip of icy cold water. His stomach cramped instantly, rejecting the little bit of food and he vomited it back up, right in Sarumans face. If he had the strength, he would have burst out laughing. But the acid from the bile had stung badly, and instead of laughing his throat almost seemed to scream at him. Saruman jumped back in surprise and disgust, the soup clattering to the floor and pooling around his captives feet.
He wiped a bit of the pinkish-gray, chunky liquid off his face and started at it for a moment in shock. It was as if an honorary guest had just thrown up all over him, not his defiant prisoner who had been starved for the past two days.
"Look what you made me do," he said, gesturing at the spilled soup and splattered vomit. He sounded like a parent scolding a 5 year old child. "Now I'll have to get someone to clean this up. I made this especially for you, and this is the thanks I get??" He turned and walked out, muttering of Common Decency and Courtesy. Twenty minutes later or so, a servant came in to clean up. When he finished, he told the prisoner that Saruman would be back in soon after his bath. So, the wizard sighed and slumped against the wall to wait.
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that's it for chapter 1. should i post chapter 2? IM SO EVIL!!! (you wouldnt have me any other way.)
date posted: this is another one of those old stories i did ages ago. going through a writers block so im just posting up old ones.
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*
_______
He had given him good chance. Asked him nicely, dazzled him with promises of riches and the world if only Gandalf would just admit that he was made to be with him, with Sauron. Power like that needn't go wasted and Saruman was determined to make sure that it didn't. The two were standing in his high chamber, almost at the top of the Tower of Orthanc. The air was very thin.
"Saruman," Gandalf said flatly, "I have heard speeches of kind before, but only in the mouths of emissaries sent from Mordor to deceive the ignorant. I cannot think that you brought me so far only to weary my ears."
Saruman walked to the friend he'd had since childhood slowly, his hands clasped behind his back and his head to the floor, till he stood so close that they felt each others breath, he raised wide, innocent blue eyes to look at him and said,
"Why , of course not. I plan to weary much, much more then your ears."
With that he gripped Gandalfs wrists tight and forced him against the wall. A green light shone between his fingers and strong, magically conjured manacles appeared around Gandalfs wrists and locked him to the stone surface. He unclenched his hands from the death grip he had on his friend to run them down his face in a parody of a caress.
"There is so much you and I could do together. We could own the world, the stars -- each other!" Saruman descended upon his friends mouth like a vulture, forcing his tongue deeply down his throat. When they broke apart Gandalf scrunched up his face in disgust and spit in Sarumans eyes.
"I don't play with broken toys!" He ground out through clenched teeth.
"TOY?!" Saruman screeched and slapped Gandalf hard across the face, splitting his lip. "If anyone here resembles a toy," he sneered, "then YOU do! Running around with those brat boy kings, pretending to be the surrogate father they never had, while dirty hobbit creatures gaze up at you in ignorant wonder, wanting only to see you pull one more rabbit out of your ass!"
Gandalf, undaunted by the insult and determined to stay calm, gazed back at him with steady, steel gray eyes. "You think yourself cunning, clever, even to go so far as actually powerful." The last word was dripping with sarcasm. "When in reality you are nothing more than a pawn in Sarumans designs. A shiny noisy, back stabbing, expendable pawn." He said this so softly, and with such assurance that it broke through to Sarumans mind, if only for a minute or two.
And Saruman doubted. \
He doubted himself, he doubted his past, doubted if he had any future at all if he kept going down this path! Was he wrong? What was he doing?! He and Gandalf had played together as little children. Almost best friends. But then he felt a soft touch in the back of his mind, and a whisper he know too well by now. Sauron.
Sauron entered his mind with a gentleness that he hadn't felt from the man before...a tenderness he didn't even know existed in the world, and he closed his eyes.
Stop now, easy.. That was then, and this is now. And now you are enemies. Friends do not stay friends forever. Keep going.
"But how!" he silently asked the Voice. He now felt a sharp pain in his temples and the Voice changed its tone dramatically, shouting inside his head.
FOOL! CHILD! Have you remembered nothing I have taught you? Or were my lessons just not as important as the other urgent matters you have to attend to?
He inwardly flinched at the harsh words, and send desperate "NO!" messages to the Voice. "NO! Just please make the pain go away!" The Voice seemed to snort and then softened a bit.
There are two basic methods of persuasion; physical and mental. Try physical first, as we would want him in the best mental condition possible if his magic will be any use to us. But do not be afraid to break him down mentally as a last resort. In any case we can use him, we need him.
And with that statement a wind ruffled his hair and the Voice left him, giving him a familiar empty ache in his heart. He quickly regained composure, stroking Gandalfs face where he had just slapped it. "You'll come around," he said simply, softly. But his voice darkened with the last words he said before leaving his old friend ganging on the wall,
"I'll make you."
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Two days. Two days Gandalf the gray had been chained to the same wall. No food, no water, no company.He expected every moment for Saruman to waltz in and feed him, talk to him, yell at him, hurt him, something'but nothing at all for two days. He repeatedly tried to call on his magic but only weakened with every attempt. Something in the room,an anti-magic spell, maybe even the manacles around his wrists could be draining him.
His tongue swelled in his mouth, and his vision was rapidly turning gray and hazy. Then, on the dawn of the third day, Saruman came in. He had a bowl of soup and a glass of water in his hands. He knelt in front of Gandalf and greeted him politely.
"I thought you would be hungry." Gandalfs throat was too dry to form a response. "I hope you like this, I make it myself." Saruman lifted a spoonful and held it to Gandalfs lips. The wizards gray eyes stared back in hatred but the inside of him was rejoicing as the hot liquid slid down his throat, followed by a sip of icy cold water. His stomach cramped instantly, rejecting the little bit of food and he vomited it back up, right in Sarumans face. If he had the strength, he would have burst out laughing. But the acid from the bile had stung badly, and instead of laughing his throat almost seemed to scream at him. Saruman jumped back in surprise and disgust, the soup clattering to the floor and pooling around his captives feet.
He wiped a bit of the pinkish-gray, chunky liquid off his face and started at it for a moment in shock. It was as if an honorary guest had just thrown up all over him, not his defiant prisoner who had been starved for the past two days.
"Look what you made me do," he said, gesturing at the spilled soup and splattered vomit. He sounded like a parent scolding a 5 year old child. "Now I'll have to get someone to clean this up. I made this especially for you, and this is the thanks I get??" He turned and walked out, muttering of Common Decency and Courtesy. Twenty minutes later or so, a servant came in to clean up. When he finished, he told the prisoner that Saruman would be back in soon after his bath. So, the wizard sighed and slumped against the wall to wait.
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that's it for chapter 1. should i post chapter 2? IM SO EVIL!!! (you wouldnt have me any other way.)