Summary: Sauron begins to feel something for Legolas. How to win his heart? And if Legolas is already in love with someone else, how could Sauron react? Enchanting him? Kidnapping him? Putting a spell on him? Or simply letting him go?
This is a very different story from what you are used to reading. It is a tale about romance, but also about sorrow and change. And you will see a completely new Sauron ... as I have always imagined him.
Warnings: Slash! Don't like it? Don't read it! Sauron a bit OOC. What if. Slightly AU. Check other warnings chapter by chapter.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I write just for fun, not for money.
Author's Note: I wanted to write a different story about Sauron/Legolas, and I really hope it is. Sauron is not an "eye", but is a "person". I played a bit with Legolas' age. He is younger, about one hundred years old.
My apologies to Tolkien's experts, because of changes I had to do for my ends. I know this story is not perfect, but please, appreciate my try to write something different!
I am an Italian girl, and this is my first English fanfiction, so please be gentle with reviews^^ And sorry for possible mistakes!
Thanks to greywings2, who beta-read the Prologue!
Prologue.
Sauron was watching his Palantir intensely.
For days he did nothing but watch the images the sphere sent to him. So he stayed in the higher room of his fortress of Barad-dûr, where that treasure was guarded. It seemed to be his only connection with the outside world.
He looked away for a moment and sighed. The room, whose walls of deepest black in irregular slabs, polished like mirrors and reflected his distorted reflection, had become oppressive. He had grown impatient, as if Mordor was no longer enough to contain his power.
He approached the window and looked outside. The sight was terrifying. Screams, fire, blood, rocks. Orcs. He tightened his fist and hit the window jamb, repeatedly. That scene that always appeared before his eyes, which had once made him chuckle with delight in hearing cries of sheer desperation, seeing streams of blood flooding the roads, as smoke and black clouds darkened the sky, now simply disgusted him.
But why they provoked that reaction in him, he could not help but wonder. Why so suddenly? Why?
And the answer came, even if not immediately. The answer was given to him right from the Palantir, which he never stopped to observing until his eyes were consumed and tired. The answer was him. Those eyes. Deep blue sky, so full of sweetness, curiosity and tenderness. That hair. Fine and delicate threads of gold. That skin. Fair, that had to be smooth to touch and scented with luscious fragrance of flowers. That smile. Pure, naive, conveying warmth to anyone privileged to observe him. That body. Slender, slim, perfect.
Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, had kidnapped his own heart from the first moment.
His image haunted him. Wherever he looked, he saw him. In his dreams, he saw, him. While ordering his Orcs to torture, to kill, he saw him. And he could see his disappointed, frightened, angry look. Because he was the Dark Lord of Middle Earth. How else would Legolas have looked at him? That young and so innocent Elf that had always lived in light and beauty? He would have disapproved, despised, feared, hated him. These were always the feelings inspired by Sauron in everyone he met. Why would Legolas be different? Why would the Elf give him his smiles, hug him, graze his lips, whisper timid words of love, while those so rosy cheeks tinged of purple red with embarrassment? Why would that body hold him and be held, caress and touch where no one else has ever dared before, and be taken willingly, moaning his name in the heat of the absolute passion?
No, Sauron said, shaking his head. Legolas would never be his. He would never savour the sweet taste of his lips and never experience his perfect body trembling in his arms. A so sublime being would never have to turn down a look of sincere love for him.
Legolas, in the desolate lands of Mordor, was simply out of place. The light he radiated would soon be extinguished without the sun to kiss that golden hair. His eyes would become full of tears, and the smile that had captured him would no longer appear on his beautiful face, forming two soft dimples on the sides of his pure lips.
Sauron did not want the qualities that attracted him so much vanishing because of him. He did not want the Elf's innocence spoiling. He did not want that untainted heart marring by his selfishness.
No, he had to devise another trick in order to have him. But which one? Legolas seemed so unreachable. In his dreams, every time he tried to stretch a hand in order to touch him, his perfect image vanished among smoke rings and he grasped only emptiness.
But if he did not hurry Legolas' heart would be someone else's, and then he could do nothing but torture and kill the one who had dared kiss the Elf while holding him and taking him. The result of the little elf's pain and deep hatred fomented against him.
Sauron laughed to himself. To think at the beginning he had observed him just for curiosity! He had never seen in Middle-Earth someone with such limpid heart. He, who was so used to corruption, weakness and treachery of Men and Orcs, saw something, incredibly, that surprised him. At first, he had thought he would feel great pleasure to soil that heart, to fill it up with meanness and fear. To make it like everything he touched: tainted.
It would have been a great triumph for Sauron. He, who had everything, who had brought Middle-Earth into subjection and into an atmosphere of terror, who no longer felt any emotion, if not boredom and disgust for those who crossed his path. But at the end he was the subdued.
He began to wish that smile was only for him. Those eyes lowering shyly and those cheeks reddening as he was whispering in his pointy ears the most intimate and deep words. He did not want to believe that such a thing had happened. He repeated to himself thousands of times that it was only lust towards the Elf, and that it was his wish to break him as a way to make him believe it was something different. He tried to believe that he did not feel anything, that he would never feel anything. He attempted to find a perverse pleasure in hearing the Elf screaming in terror and panting under him, in contaminating the perfection of his body with the crueller instruments of torture, in being delighted to see him dying and covered with blood, or simply watching his look serenity turning and becoming filled with hate.
But he could no longer be deceived. He wanted Legolas, and he wanted him so desperately that he would have destroyed Middle-Earth for him.
He would have him.
Author's Note: So, what do you think? I know, I know… it looks like other fics about Sauron watching the Palantir, noticing Legolas, taking him to Mordor and living together happily ever after. But… It is not my story! Maybe at the beginning, but my plot is a bit more complicated than that. You will see just reading! So please let me know what you think, and if I can continue writing^^