A/N: I do not own LOTR its characters or settings. Anything new is mine.
Liathandrial was exhausted when she returned to her room in the city of Helm's Deep. Mithrandir was nowhere in sight, but she had not expected him to be. He had his own chambers adjoined to hers so that no one would look in on her, but he was undoubtedly visiting with his allies. She was too tired to use her magic to return to the shape of Athan, and so she barred her door and fell into bed, her weariness so great that she felt as if she were suffocating from it.
Healing had always required more of her strength then killing, but she never turned away from those in need, even if it drained every last ounce of her strength. Even her anger at that arrogant young Elf was unable to hold her attention in her current weakened state.
She fell into a deep sleep almost immediately. At first she dreamed of nothing out of turn, beautiful meadows and rivers she had played in as a child in the lands of the Valar. But then, inevitably, she sensed the arrival of another presence in her dream, and she knew he had come.
He always came, which was why she almost never slept, for in sleeping she dreamed, and was defenseless against him.
Liathandrial turned slowly to face the being she sensed behind her, and as she had feared, it was he. Sauron. Tall as a giant and so handsome he was terrifying. Some part of her knew he was no longer so unbearably fair, that he had been burned years ago and lost his divine visage. Yet this was how she always pictured him, as he had looked in their time together at Minas Tirith.
His eyes were blue and green as the wildest forests and deepest oceans. His hair was golden like the sun, and his skin bronzed. His body was nothing short of a work of art: broad of shoulder and chest with narrow hips and muscular legs. But it was his face, his oh so perfect face, that betrayed his celestial blood with its sharp cheekbones, chiseled nose and sensual mouth.
He smiled at her and swept her a bow, as he had done a thousand times in the past and in her dreams, and she tried to resist the lure of him, but knew she would fail. It was why she always ran from him, waking or dreaming. She was not strong enough to face him, not in the ways that counted. Perhaps on a raw power based level she could challenge him, but he owned far too much of her for her to defy him in close quarters, and she feared if she were to face him she would fall as she had so long ago.
"It has been a while, but you still shame the very stars," he whispered, his voice rich and deep, at once magnetic and compelling, seeming to stroke her where she stood. She had always loved his voice.
"Why are you here?" she asked in despair, wanting to find only peace, knowing she could never have it with him.
"Because you are here," was his simple response.
She was going to tell him to leave, to be gone from her dreams and let her rest in peace, but then he took a step closer to her and reached out with his wonderful hands to caress her cheek.
"So beautiful," he murmured before bowing his head to kiss her.
It was earth shattering, as always. Her body came alive in his hands and he trembled beneath her touch. It had always been this way between them: an obsessive overwhelming heat that defied logic and demanded they obey their desires, no matter what their beliefs and wishes might be. It was ironic that they were destined to be enemies, and yet had never been able to get enough of each other.
She wondered if he dreamed of her, as she dreamed of him.
And then as the kiss deepened, she thought of nothing at all save him, and their love. He made love to her with slow, sweet, consummate skill, undoubtedly learned over centuries of decadent living and yet she knew with her it was different.
As he caressed her body and moved above her, his expression was one of aching tenderness, his words soft and worshipful as he whispered, "I love you."
It was a lie, of course. She knew that very well. If he truly loved her, he would never have sent her away from Minas Tirith. His own servant had told her Sauron had lost interest in her, but this was a dream after all, and she was very well aware that even though he had not loved her for ages, she had never stopped loving him.
But she could not give him the words, not even in her dreams. She would never surrender to him completely, not as she had so long ago. She did not return his declaration of love, even when his smile became touched with sadness.
For what seemed like an eternity he adored her body with his own, bringing them both to a mutual state of exquisite pleasure again and again. And then, at last, he simply held her. The silence between them was at once comfortable and yet fraught with unspoken feelings and thoughts.
Because it was a dream, Liathandrial allowed herself the bittersweet pleasure of burying her face in the hollow of his neck. His arms held her so securely, as if he would protect her from the evils of the world. It was the greatest of ironies, considering he was one of the most terrible evil forces to ever roam Middle Earth. And yet still she loved him.
Tears of sorrow and self loathing flowed down her cheeks as he held her to him, and he began to stroke her hair to soothe her.
"Why do you cry?" he asked his voice rife with concern.
Another damn deception.
"I do not wish to speak of it," she replied, her own voice firm despite the tears she shed.
Sauron tensed a moment, as if to argue with her. This was her dream, she had no wish to argue with him in this fantasy world, but she would not tell him how she felt as if she betrayed the very world itself every time she allowed him to hold her in his arms and make love to her. She despised herself and him to an extent.
To her relief, her dream Sauron acted as the real Sauron would have done, so long ago, before he had abandoned her. He simply said, "Alright, if that is what you wish. Sleep now, nothing will harm you while I am here."
She almost laughed at the absurdity of his words. Almost nothing could harm her, save him. And he did irreparable damage to her every time he came to her this way, though she knew he was unaware of that fact since he was only a figment of her dreams. Besides, how could she possibly fall asleep when she was already dreaming?
But she obeyed his gentle command and closed her eyes, breathing in his unique scent and forcing herself to relax against him, until at last a merciful darkness claimed her.
When she awoke that afternoon, she felt remarkably rested, but was nonetheless embarrassed by her dream. She called upon Elbereth and under the cover of the goddess' watchful eye; she resumed the form of Athan.
Mithrandir was still absent from his chambers, and so she sought him out, down the great lengths of Helm's Deep, to where King Théoden held counsel with Mithrandir. As she glided into the room, she became aware of the presence of other people besides the Istari. There was a Dwarf and a few Men, and the annoying Elf from the night before.
He looked up with his keen eyes as she alighted upon the back of a chair in the hall, but she would not look upon him, her attention instead turned to the wizard who was even then speaking.
"I will ride now for Isengard. Let those who would come with me make haste, for it is my wish to ride under the cover of shadow," the Istari declared, before turning to stride from the room.
His sharp gaze landed upon her for a moment, and then Athan was at his side as he departed from the room, and in his wake came his companions. The sun was already descending in the sky as they took to the road, Athan flying high above them, keeping watch for enemies.
But there were none, the ancient forest had devoured them all, and when the Riders came to it they halted as if in fear, though Athan flew ahead into the dark wood, unafraid. And Gandalf followed in her wake, also unafraid, and behind him came the other Riders, and the wood parted to form a path for them so they might pass.
Athan was surrounded by a feeling of peace, for the forest recognized her as friend and indeed knew what she was where none other but Mithrandir knew her. Below her she could hear the troublesome Elf speaking at length with the Dwarf, and when he voiced a desire to spend more time among the woods, she could sympathize with his wishes, for the trees of this forest were old and wise. And when the Elf spoke of how they did not hate all creatures on two legs but rather Orcs, she began to have a grudging respect for the Elf.
Legolas, he was called by the Dwarf whom he hailed as Gimli, who was now speaking of the caves of Helm's Deep and the wonders of the earth. She knew the heart of Arda as well as she knew it's forests, for she had run the paths deep below the planet's surface for years, and she could agree with young Gimli that there were wonders to be seen beneath the ground. But there were terrors to be found there as well, creatures of great evil that hid from the light of day and awaited the call of their master to return to the surface.
After a time, the company passed through the forest and came to the bottom of the Coomb. Athan was the last to leave the trees, for she knew not when she would walk through this forest again, and it was then that she felt the approach of the herdsmen.
Behind her she heard Legolas cry out about the eyes in the trees, and Gandalf counsel him to stay back. She watched as the Ents called out to their compatriots and were answered, and began to march back to the wood. But one paused not far from the eyes of the Riders, and turned to where she flew among the trees.
Deep, wise eyes studied her, and then the Ent called out, in tones both ancient and full, "Hmm, hmm. Well met, daughter of the West. Your presence has not been felt in an age. It gladdens my heart to see you."
"Well met, shepherd of the forest," she returned, as was only polite. "I have forgotten the beauty of your home, and will surely return to it once this dark time has passed."
The Ent's brow furrowed with worry. "Hrum, indeed, that is why we have left our forests. We can longer leave the battle to the other Children."
"Such is the reason you see me here," she agreed. "But already my companions ride on, and I must go. Take care, watcher of the woods."
"Go with Iluvatar, hrum hmm, daughter of the Vanyar," he returned, before continuing on his way into the forest.
Athan watched him leave, loathe to part from his company, pleased to have been recognized and longing for the companionship of others like her. But she could not turn her back on her duty, and so she flew from the forest, and once more joined Mithrandir's party, circling above them as they drew near the Fords.