I wrote this for TerrifyingTolkien Week Day 1, but I didn't have the time to post it, so here it is. The prompt for Day 1 is "All shall fade", like the title. Inspired by idahrillion's comic.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, Tolkien does.
Warnings: mental torture, manipulation, mentions of physical torture, angst
The moment Maedhros opened his eyes, he immediately wished he hadn't. In front of him stood the now all familiar, but no less terrifying figure of Sauron. The Maia was clad in a silk robe the color of blood, and his flawless face graced a wicked smirk.
"Well, hello Nelyo." Maedhros involuntary shuddered at the use of his nickname, the name sounding wrong coming from the foul creature in front of him. "Did you sleep well? Are you ready to get up and play?" Sauron tilted his head to the side, the smirk in his lips turning into a wide wicked grin, and Maedhros gulped.
Sauron was happy today. Maedhros almost wished he had been angry and decided to come here and vent his frustrations on the elf instead of coming for pleasure. Angry Sauron could sometimes be appeased and he would leave you alone after some torturing, but happy Sauron, Meadhros had found out the hard way, meant that the Maia would listen to no one but the sick ideas in his head.
The elf wanted to cry as Sauron inspected him with pleasure, his cat-like eyes lighting up as he came up with different ideas of what he could do to him. Maedhros wanted to tell him, no, he was not ready. He was never going to be ready for this, everyday he was dreading this hour that Sauron visited him like he didn't remember dreading anything before in his life.
But Maedhros was proud like his father, and he would die before admitting something like this, especially when the twisted Maia strived for his destruction. Sauron's goal was to break him, and the least Maedhros could do was not give him the pleasure of seeing his success. That way he could lie to himself as well as the Maia.
Sauron's hair fell down his shoulders in reddish golden locks, framing his pale face and bringing out his slit eyes that were surrounded by a delicate red line. They looked like flames, dancing around him like a halo in the dim lighting of the dungeons. The only source of light was coming from him, a bright, vibrant red light that radiated from the unfairly fair creature. In contrast to this, Maedhros' faint inner glow seemed almost non-existent.
"So..." Sauron started, walking closer to the elf on the corner, with small, slow strides. Maedhros reflexively moved away from him. Sauron noticed this and he laughed, taking pleasure in the fear he caused him. His laugh was melodic and clear, sounding like the fair elvish laughter, but there was an undertone to it, a harshness and wicked delight that naught could mimic. His laugh sounded wrong as the fair sound contrasted with his malice. "I think we can start playing now, do you not think?" Sauron grinned down at the redhead. "I think you are fully awake now."
He had not properly finished his sentence, and the world started to fade around the edges. Maedhros felt his heart drop as all his surroundings melted into nothingness, and for a moment nothing existed in his light of vision save the deep darkness that was somehow blindingly bright.
Then the world started to take substance again and Meadhros found himself sitting next to a great lake back in Tirion, the green of nature around him, and the rustle of trees he thought he would never hear again. The redhead elf looked around while birds sang, the vision illuminated in the beautiful bright light of Laurelin.
Maedhros swallowed a lump in his throat. He had missed this, he had missed the carefree days before the darkening, the endless afternoons spent with Fingon just laying on the grass, chasing his twin brothers around the city. It was fake, he knew, only a deceiving image Sauron had crafted for him and yet it made things all the more final for Maedhros.
He was never going to go back home.
The realization was sudden, and yet he had known this all along, but the sentiment of homesickness and sadness that aroused in his heart was as raw as his desperation and despair had been at Losgar.
He turned his head around, as if he was trying to turn away from the painful image, but instead he found himself facing a pair of eyes. The two pools of deep blue, tinged with some silver flickers from the light as it illuminated on his face, were smiling at him, young and happy, and Maedhros' heart clentched.
Not this. Anything but this.
"Maitimo?" Fingon asked, concern flickering in his face. "Are you alright?"
Maedhros opened his mouth to respond, more out of habit than desire, but he found that the words were stuck in his throat. His tongue felt frozen, glued to his mouth as he found himself unable to respond, overcome with mixed feelings.
It was relief and happiness at seeing Fingon again, and yet this was not Fingon but a mere illusion, and that knowledge made his heart plung with despair and his stomack drop.
He could not do this. He simply could not.
There were so many things that needed to be said, so many things Maedhros needed to apologize for, but when could he start and would it be enough? His father had burned the ships, abandoning the rest of the Noldor at the other side of the shore, with no way of crossing. But if Fëanor and his sons were stubborn once, so were Fingolfin and his children, and they would not forsake the march after they had come so far. Which left only one option, the Helcaraxë.
Maedhros shuddered only at the mere thought of it.
"Maitimo?" Fingon's melodic voice brought him abruptly back to reality, or more accurately the present, for this was an illusion, Maedhros reminded himself. Fingon's brows were furrowed together, his forehead creased in concern for his cousin. "Maitimo, what is the matter?" He sounded worried and perhaps a little uncertain.
Maedhros could ignore him. He could get up and yell, try anything to make Sauron lift this illusion off him instead of dealing with what it was doing to him. But that was exactly what Sauron sought, and he would not lift off the enchantment, only twist it and form it to his liking once more, always aiming to hurt Maedhros.
It was simply pointless, and even though there was a certain act of resistance in that, the mere idea was simply too tiring. Meadhros closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself, but when he opened them again to respond, Fingon was not there. The feeling of immense relief mingled with disappointment in the pit of his stomach.
Suddenly there was a clear laugh somewhere behind him and Meadhros turned.
"Come and play with us!" Amras laughed. Next to him Amrod bounced with excitement. Then suddenly they started running away, laughing as they did so.
"Come and find us!" They yelled gleefully, and Maedhros' big brother instincts kicked in. There was something wrong, but he couldn't remember what exactly it was. He just chased after Ambarussa, tying to rid the feeling that this was so very wrong. It couldn't be, the twins did that all the time, and Maedros had never refused to play with them. He had run after them inside the forest, but the two redheads were nowhere to be seen among the trees. He could hear their laughter, it rang clear and vibrant from everywhere around him, but he could not spot the source of the noise no matter how much he tried.
"Okay, I give up!" He called with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Where are you?"
There was a distinct shift in the air, a small shadow that passed through the trees but Maedhros paid it no heed as he continued to search for his brothers.
"Ambarussa!" He called, cupping his hands like around his mouth like a megaphone. The feeling that something was wrong that had been plaguing him all day became more intense, until Maedhros' heart clenched with anxiety and he started searching for his brothers frantically, no longer finding anything amusing in the situation.
"You forgot about me." Maedhros whirled around at the voice, coming face to face with Amrod. The child was no longer laughing and smiling, instead he stood absolutely still, and his eyes were dark, Maedhros couldn't make out the bright grey color they were supposed to have.
"You forgot about me and you let me burn." Amrod's voice sounded like it was coming from far away, and his dark eyes pierced though his oldest brother.
"What-" Maedhros looked at the Elfling in confusion that soon turned into horror when Amrod suddenly caught on fire. Maedhros stared at his little brother, too shocked to do anything more as the Elfling burned.
"KINSLAYER!" The voice was double, and it was coming from Amrod's mouth but it was not his. It was millions of different voices, and then suddenly screams sounded in Maedhros' ears, horrible cries of pain.
Then Amras stepped through the fire and it diminished behind him, taking Amrod and the voices with it.
"This is all your fault." The other redhead accused, dark pitiless eyes staring up at him and the ocean of conflicted emotions inside him felt like an iron hand gripping his heart tight. The form changed. It was still Amras, but he looked older, broken. "You let this happen. This is all your fault."
Behind Amras appeared more figures of people Maedhros knew, all with the same stoic face and dark eyes that stared at him accusingly. There was Fingon and Nerdanel, Fëanor, an older Amrod, Finrod, the rest of his brothers...
"You failed us."
"You failed us."
"You failed us."
Maedhros' eyes were wide open and horror stricken as the realization settled in, as he remembered again the situation he was as in. As he remembered Amrod's death at Losgar, and the burning of the ships. As he realized that it was his fault. Suddenly his weight was too much for him to stand and he fell to his knees.
"I'm sorry!" He sobbed, hiding his face into his arms and drawing his legs to his chest. "I'm sorry!" Sobs wrecked his body and Maedhros did not care anymore. "I'm so sorry!"
It was too much.
"Sorry?" A terrible voice boomed, making Maedhros' crying stop as he raised his head to look around, but there was nothing; only the bright nothingness. "Do you think sorry will fix all the terrible things you did?" It was his voice and yet it was not, for Sauron was handling it, but to Maedhros' ears it sounded like a crueler, darker version of himself, and that was exactly what the Maia was aiming for. "Do you think sorry will bring back all the people you killed? All that died because of you? KINSLAYER!"
Maedhros shook his head in denial, yet his mind agreed with the words. The terrible guilt that settled over his hand like an iron fist felt like it had always been there.
A laugh echoed around in the darkness, a cruel, terrible laugh filled with malice. Forms started appearing then until the source of the laugh became clear. Sauron was standing in front of Maedhros in his dungeon in Thangorodrim, with his silk robe the color of blood and the golden curls framing his face like living fires.
It had all been an illusion of his doing, yet it had never felt more real.
"Do you see now?" Sauron taunted. "Do you see now that all these unforgivable things you did were for nothing?" Maedhros flinched, and Sauron continued, his face breaking into a delighted, sick grin that made Maedhros' insides twist. "You seek to banish the darkness from this world, but the darkness has been here before anything else. The Ainur came forth into the world and shaped it from the darkness, the nothingness it used to be. You cannot banish what has always existed." Maedhros closed his eyes in resignation, this was all just too much. "The darkness will conquer all again!" Sauron exclaimed and Maedhros could not find it withing to disagree. "All shall fade and we will conquer."