This was certainly no dream. No reverie, only real flesh and blood. Real breath filling her lungs, his taste on her tongue. The scratch of his stubble tore against her lips and chin, a sensation she never would have imagined. Elves grew no hair on their faces, and this scratching, scoring sensation against her lips and skin thrilled her to her core. Her innards melted, molten desire rising and threatening to burst through her.
Your body betrays you, her warrior-mind hissed. She buried herself deeper in the feeling of his touch, if only to silence her thoughts, the thoughts that pounded the name "Sauron" with every beat of her racing heart. Her hands braced against his chest, the rhythm of his own heart accelerating under her touch.
His mouth strayed to ear, grazing his grinning teeth on her flesh as he whispered. "I can see you enjoy this far more in reality than in your dreams, same as me. Despite its weaknesses, human form certainly has many advantages, mostly in this realm of pleasure," he purred, his kiss traveling lower to the edge of her collarbone. "Most importantly, it is already well known just how… compatible… in this area humans and elves have been through the ages."
Hands traced down the thin veil of her gown, planting themselves softly on the small of her back. She was willing, but something was less intense, less ardent, than he knew her to be. He inhaled sharply, gazing down at her alabaster skin, now warming over with a reddening glow that nothing could hide. Her eyes, deepest pools of blue, fluttered open, meeting his inquisitive gaze with that still familiar icy edge. "Galadriel," he purred her name, "for someone who has the strongest will of any soldier I know, you seem unsure."
There it was, the flashing of dark fire behind the azure that stared back at him. "I have never been more sure of anything, Halbrand," she replied with a rasp, reaching her hands into the red-brown strands of his hair. Her lips pressed hard into his again, biting and nipping as she pulled him even closer into her own reach.
His mouth opened on hers, exhaling a sigh, "My lord Sauron," he breathed between biting kisses, "you are in my lands now," he persisted against her lips. "You must call me as all others do, if you are to be my queen."
She disguised her shiver of disgust by tugging at the belt about his waist. "Halbrand is the name of the one I know and desire," she forced a flirtatious lilt to her words, careful to keep her mouth busy and to keep her eyes away from his own. "Is it so insufficient?"
"On your lips," he cupped her cheek, bringing her face turned up to meet his gaze, "never insufficient." His own roughened hands found her own, making quick work of the thin leather knot of his belt. The velvet of his tunic parted down the middle, revealing the planes of his chest.
Eagerness took over her control, allowing him to pull her flush against his body, feeling him tug her across the room until he stopped dead with a jolt. She glanced for but a moment at the lush, verdant green bed behind him before he trapped her mouth again. Fingers gripped into the folds of her skirt, lifting it slowly against the prickling skin on her legs. In one fluid rush, he sat himself on the edge, pulling her atop his lap. Galadriel gasped to be so trapped, so compromised. But she did not, could not care. Gently, her touch traveled over the sinews of his body, lost in the feeling of his skin, something she had looked upon before but dared not touch.
Two sharp knocks at the door sent her flying to her feet, swirling her skirt out of her way, crouching as if to attack. Her fist grasped around air, holding the memory of her blade. If only she had a weapon. The slowest rolling of his laugh drew her attention back from a fight she could not undertake.
"A moment," he called loudly, reaching to grab her roughly by the elbow to drag her back to her feet. "Apologies for the interruption, but it seems it is time to convene my court. You needn't worry, Galadriel." He twisted her his most charming, toothiest grin. "I won't leave you alone for long."
"They will know I am here," she breathed, still fighting the rush of adrenaline that pulses through her every nerve.
"Of course they will know," his charming smile twisting to something more devious. "What better place for my future queen than my own rooms?"
She could not stifle her gasp. Turning slowly, her eyes widened, as if taking in her surroundings for the first time. The vaulted ceilings, the opulent banners and furnishings, the wide, curtained window gazing out from unknown heights to survey much of his lands: it took her breath to notice it all.
She rounded on him cautiously, his head bowed, eyes shut. His lips murmured the hissing, hushing language of black speech. As he opened his eyes, a thin swirl of smoke enveloped him: his simple, opened tunic vanished, replaced by robes of black. A cape billowed behind him, and a crown of spiked obsidian rested on his burnished red hair.
The air around her pulsed with his magic, sending a shiver slicing through the warmth his touch had brought to her body. A pulse that reverberated through the thin, twisted band around her finger.
"Come," he barked, and immediately the double-paned doors opened toward them. Galadriel slipped behind him ever so slowly, noticing as his eye caught her movement from its smallest corner. Six tall Uruks stepped in ever so slightly, not daring to come too close to their master. Their faces shown pale and scarred but their ears were still flawlessly pointed. Moriondor. Their formerly-elvish faces leering back at her like a reflection in a dark mirror.
One familiar face met her gaze briefly. Their eyes locked, making her fully aware of just how much she had forsaken. A battle apparently lost. Adar flicked a smile her way before returning his whitened face to flint.
"My lady," Sauron purred, raising her ringed hand to his lips. "I will return this evening, should all go according to plan."
"What plan?" She barely concealed the aggression of suspicion to her words. A fact he noted with a mischievous smirk.
"You will recall I promised you I would bind you to power, as you would bind me to light. Such a feat will take the deepest sorcery and even more cunning," he pulled her pointed ear to his lips again, savoring the shiver that he made run through her while being. "Despite my mastery of the craft, I have never encounter this sort of spell, but if my theories are correct, it will be a process that you and I will enjoy." Placing a kiss on the soft skin beneath her ear, he turned on his heel and left.
Doors closed quickly behind his entourage. And Galadriel immediately made to pull on their handles without a second thought. Locked. And not only that, the angry snapping and growling of wargs resounded mutedly through the wood. His laugh filled the air around her. More magic. "Not that easily, my friend," he warned in chuckling tones. "I would advise you to relax in my absence. You will need to save your strength, only this time not for fighting."
Recoiling, she faded a step backwards, then another. Tears pricked her eyes as she knew with growing acceptance this was her choice. Her only choice now.
Her insides twisted into a knot. She needed air. Even the foul, volcanic air of Mordor. Hurrying to the window, she threw open their heavy drapes and stuck her head out of the window, the hot air still burning her lungs. The fire-mountain still spewed ash into the air, the dark clouds shifting, keeping the sunlight at bay over the land before her. Patches in the distance allowed the light through, the distant speckles of those human villages barely visible on the hills, even to her keen elf-eyes. As if something veiled the details of what lied in the distance. What she saw still confused her, a far cry from the lands of Morgoth. Growth and farming, markets and produce, all despite the cover of black from the mountain. No hordes of Orc, no pits of fire and mud to generate them. No stink of sulphur or rot on the warm breeze that brushed her cheeks and stirred her straw-yellow hair.
It was time to relay her progress. Taking a breath, she closed her eyes and extended her left hand, a pulse of energy throbbed down her spine, emanating in ripples from the ring of power on her finger.
She breathed, aligning her air with the rhythmic pulses of her ring's power. A quiet, light energy flowed from her fingertips. Until her hearing caught the smallest flutter of wings. The twitch of a moth tickeled her palm. Cupping it in her fingers, she whispered to its little flittering antennae. I made it within the fortress. But Sauron suspects my every movement.
A voice seeped into her mind, almost tangible through the fluttering of the moth's softest wings. Fortitude, the deep, consoling voice bade her. Hold to your mission, come what may.
But what if what comes could claim my light, my very soul?
Mithrandir's voice soothed her from within. You are too strong for that, no matter what actions you must take, my lady.
Silently, the moth floated from her fingers, catching a new breeze and flying past the edge of even her sharp sight