"I won't tell you anything," Celebrimbor said defiantly.
"You say that now," Annatar–Sauron–replied complacently.
"What, no little speech about how if I tell you, you'll let me live?" Celebrimbor sneered. Sauron just chuckled, as he gathered Celebrimbor's long hair into a thick ponytail before slicing it off. The long hair would simply get in his way.
"Of course not," Sauron replied, fully in control. "No matter what you say, no matter what you tell me, you are still going to die." He leaned in close to whisper into Celebrimbor's ear. "Believe me, by the time I'm through with you, death will be a mercy."
He straightened, and stepped back, moving to face Celebrimbor directly.
"So really, there is only one question," Sauron mused, examining the knife he held in his hand.
"How long will it take you to tell me where they are in exchange for that mercy?"
Yes, I have Sauron and Celebrimbor on my mind today, thanks to my insomnia last night. I hate it, but it is rather helpful when it comes to writing. This was supposed to be a drabble, but it refused to stay at 100 words. So it's 150 instead. Pfft.