Author: MarieAmethyst
Title: Surrender to the Darkness
Rating: R
Chapter: Four, Desire
Author's Notes: What can I say? No one else was writing Aragorn/Sauron slash, so I came up with this. Surrender is based off a lot of my own ideas, and how I view Lord of the Rings. To me Sauron isn't some big flaming eye, and the Nazgul aren't a bunch of almost dead guys running around mindlessly trying to find the One Ring. If you can't deal with that, then this isn't a fic for you. (*grin* Or anyone else, for that matter.) I've toyed with a couple ideas as to how to develop this, but for the most part I'm just writing as it comes to me. If you have any ideas/suggestions, please let me know! I'd be forever grateful. ^_^
I've went back and re-written the chapters a little, adding more and correcting mistakes, that sort of thing. The biggest change is to the character Gwen, in chapter six. Before I had planned on writing a back story to Surrender called Pieces of My Heart, but since that has gotten nowhere, I edited Gwen so she fits more readily in the fic until I can get Pieces written.
If you're having trouble picturing Sauron as something other than a big flaming eyeball, think of Armand from Interview With the Vampire. But with longer hair. ^_~
UPDATE 12/31/08: Since so many of you have begged nicely and tracked me down all over the 'Net to ask me if I was ever going to finish it, I have decided to continue Surrender! …Of course I have no idea how I am going to do this, so it should be interesting. :D First off is an overhaul of the story, especially Aragorn's character; he kind of bothers me now. So be looking for updates in 2009. Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews/e-mails/comments (I was even mentioned in an article on Aestheticism, lol)! This is for you guys. :)
-*-*-*-
You can't abandon me
You belong to me
Breathe in and take my life in you
No longer myself only you
There's no escaping me, my love
Surrender
-*-*-*-
"For nothing is evil in the beginning. Even Sauron was not so."
~Elrond during the Council of Elrond, FotR~
~*~
The moments seemed to melt into one as the assault on his senses continued. Aragorn groaned again as Sauron traced his lower lip with his tongue, before plunging it inside his mouth. He was slowly submitting under the Dark Lord's masterful administrations, drowning in the touch...Then with a gasp he realized what he was doing, and tried to pull his mouth away. But his struggles proved useless as Sauron only held him tighter, bruising his lips now with the intensity of his kiss.
For a moment he gave back in, letting his mind go blank. An image surfaced though, and Arwen gazed out sadly. Aragorn cried out, jerking back and stumbled against the wrong. Leaning his arms on the dark, cold wall, he buried his face in them. His breath came harshly to his ears, and he knew without looking his face was flushed. His enemy, the one he hated more than anything, had caused such a reaction in him. Unbelievable.
There was a stirring behind him, and without looking he knew Sauron stood behind him. Lifting his head slightly, he started sightlessly at the dark wall before him. "Why?" he asked quietly.
"Because I want you," came the equally quiet reply. "And I always take what I want."
Aragorn gave a bitter laugh, "Is that all I am to you then? Something to take?"
"You have no idea. But I doubt you and I are thinking along the same lines," Sauron murmured dryly.
"What is that suppose to mean?"
"You are intelligent; you figure it out."
A soft breath of air on his neck warned him a moment too late as arms slid around to draw him back against an unyielding chest, causing him to inhale in a shuddering breath in an attempt to keep his emotions in control. Keeping the image of his beloved Arwen firmly fixed in his mind, he stood stiffly in the embrace.
A chuckle sounded in his right ear, mocking him. "You continue to persist in this, I see. But soon you will see it is only pointless, and will submit to me. And then you will know pleasure that you have never known before."
Fighting the shiver that threatened to betray his body, Aragorn retorted, "I would rather die than submit to you."
"I should kill you," Sauron whispered, grasping the hand that still held the sword. It fell from the Ranger's grip to the floor with the same muted clatter. "I should kill you," he whispered again. "No more worrying about your cursed line. The West will be without their precious hope, and laid bare for me to claim. Oh yes, I have every reason to kill you," Lips teased gently at the delicate arch of his ear, "but I won't."
"I will not submit," Aragorn said in a strained voice, trying to ignore the lips playing with his ear. A wordless murmur was Sauron's only response. "I will not," he said with more force, turning his head away. The wandering lips, not daunted, shifted to brush the tanned neck covered slightly by black silk. Words in a strangely melodious language reached his ears in a soft caress, casting a strong spell that had nothing to do with magic, and everything to do with the feeling of the body behind him, the hand drifting in lazy motions across his chest and arms, the lips teasing gently.
Abruptly chilled air blew across the heated skin of his neck as the lips withdrew. For a moment he was confused, before coming out of his daze. Anger flickered in him as he realized the ploy. Shifting around to face his adversary, he found Sauron smiling wickedly at him. Remembering to late that he was still held within the loose embrace, he found himself pressed too close to the other man's body for his comfort.
The arm still about his waist tightened just noticeably, preventing his retreat. "Let me go," Aragorn said angrily, "I tire of your games. I do not know what you are playing at, but I assure you it is not amusing. Kill me, if that is your will, but do not toy with me."
A shadow passed over the Dark Lord's face so quickly, Aragorn almost didn't catch it. Those dark eyes burned into grey ones with an anger that outmatched his own. In a blur, he found himself up against the hard wall.
"This is not a game," Sauron hissed quietly, "I want you, make no mistake. But if you keep pressing your luck, I will grant you your wish and kill you. In a way you would not like, for I will make it as drawn out and painful as possible. Or perhaps I will keep you as a slave. I would have taken you by now if this was just a game to me. So do not try my patience anymore than you already have, my lord Aragorn." Bending down, he kissed him furiously, showing none of the gentle coaxing from the previous kisses.
Aragorn didn't have a chance to react before Sauron stepped back. The pale face was once again composed, betraying none of the previous anger from the moments before. Arms were withdrawn, leaving him standing with the cold air gently caressing bared skin. Feelings came and went, in a whirlwind of emotions. Fear warred with shock, denial with...desire.
Wrapping his arms about himself, he let his eyes slide close. A small breath escaped his parted lips as he struggled to find himself and the balance that had always sustained him. Even the image of Arwen, beautiful in her ageless way, could not disrupt the confusion in him.
"You no longer know what to think, do you?"
Eyes opened heavily to regard the other, having forgotten his existence for an instant. But Sauron would not give even that little assurance. "No."
"Then do not think, just feel. Feel my desire for you; surrender to it."
Wordlessly Aragorn shook his head, "I cannot."
"Cannot, or will not?" Sauron countered, a mocking smile crossing his lips.
"Both." He leaned back against the cold wall behind him, strangely feeling weak.
"Oh? What other reasons do you have besides the obvious?"
Dark hair. Grey eyes. A small smile and graceful form. "I am pledged to another. My heart is not mine to give, my lord, even if I wished it."
A wicked smile this time. "I can make you forget her. I know how to please you more than she ever will."
"I do not doubt that. But I have no wish to forget her. I will defeat you, and Evenstar will rule at my side." A defiant look crept into the grey eyes, locking gaze with the ebony.
It was Sauron's turn to shake his head, a lock of raven hair falling across his face, "I find one problem with that reasoning, lord Aragorn .You are in my fortress, surrounded by my loyal servants and armies. How do you propose to defeat me?" Again the wicked glint. "I know of one way, if you would like for me to show you."
"What part of no do you not seem to grasp?" He asked, exasperated. "And why would I tell you my plans? I may not be feeling my best right now, thanks to you or whatever force is working here, but I am not that far gone."
"Perhaps I should inform you that there is no 'force' acting here. Whatever you are feeling now is of your own making, not mine. I prefer my partners willing, not forced. But, back to other matters, you have brought up an interesting point. I cannot have you running off, now can I?"
Aragorn again closed his eyes, letting the chill invade his body. "You have already made sure that will not happen, Dark Lord. Even if I was to win through this fortress, there is still Mordor to cross," he recanted bitterly.
"Yes, there is always that..." The soft voice took on a thoughtful tone. "Still, I would insure another means to keep you...safe from the dangers found in these halls." Light footfalls fell as he approached the Ranger. Holding his hands before him, a silver collar, encrusted with small rubies, appeared in his hands in the same manner as the sword had done before.
Unaware of the other's action, Aragorn tried to sort his thoughts out. But the cold touch of metal at his throat pulled him out of his brooding. Eyes snapped open to meet Sauron's in surprise, a hand reaching up to touch the collar around his throat. "What-?"
Smirk. "My way of protecting you, my lord Aragorn. Since you refuse my offer to share my bed, I will use this means to let it be known you are mine. Of course, if you choose to accept my proposition, I will remove the collar."
Surprise gave way to resign, "But what need do you have of further protection? You just said yourself every person here is yours."
The pale face took on a cold look, "Unfortunately, not all here is agreeable to you being here as I am." His tone made it clear he would not discuss it further.
Aragorn again touched the smooth silver, feeling the gems dig into his fingers. Humiliation at being forced to such a level as a slave washed through him, battling with the anger that had been rising. A pale hand covered his, stroking the tanned skin sharply in contrast, "It suits you, lord Aragorn, though I would rather place a crown upon your brow than this collar at your throat. A fine ruler you would be; together we would be a pair to rival that of any from all the lands. Consider that, remember all you could do then." Lips pressed against lips, a mere brush and exchange of breath. Then Sauron was moving, walking back into the shadows.
"Surrender to me." Darkness flowed around the lithe body, welcoming its Lord back into its embrace. And he was gone.
Quickly another form stepped from the shadows, as the Mouth of Sauron moved from his position against the opposite wall. Aragorn, surprised, had forgotten the other was even there. But what really shocked him was the open hatred burning in the other's eyes as he came to a stop before the Dunadan. He realized finally what Sauron had meant.
Without saying a word, the Mouth of Sauron moved to the tall doors and opened them, motioning for the orcs to enter. They jumped to obey, sensing the man's murderous mood. Each grabbing an arm, they led Aragorn out of the Great Hall. Before the door was closed behind them, he looked back to see the Mouth of Sauron staring after him, his face set in a cold mask.
Aragorn was again showed to the plain room. Stepping inside, the door was shut behind him with a slam, the lock sliding home. Suddenly weary, he cast off his boots and shirt, and fell quickly asleep, pushing aside the troubling thoughts to deal with later. And the dreams came.