In An Age Before – Part 261
Chapter One hundred fifty-six
Sauron and the Tale of Zôrîphêl – The Third Age of the Sun
Author's Warning: This chapter presents a tale of darkness, of degradation and corruption, and some may find parts of it disturbing. This is my forewarning: if a reader feels that they should stop reading because the content makes them uncomfortable, then I would encourage them to do so. I believe this chapter earns its M rating.
"Sauron and the Tale of Zôrîphêl" should encompass Parts 261 and 262, (two weeks of updates). I will preface both with this warning and if Part 263 also contains a continuation of this content, then I will add it for that part as well.
Author's Note: In this chapter, some aspects from canon are gathered and fleshed out and the nature of Sauron is explored, as sorcerer, necromancer, deceiver, manipulator, and the master of thralls. There was no measure of pain, suffering, or degradation that he would not visit upon another for the advancement of his schemes, and he saw all others in Middle Earth as subject to his use without reservation. Even those who had worshipped or served him were not exempt from his malicious disregard. I believe that this content builds on canon with more detailed explanations and insights into events and a major character. It also offers some backstory for minor canon characters (and OCs created in this story). There are threads in canon that have always 'bugged' me for lack of details. I feel that some of these 'gaps' have offered potential explanations for events during the Third Agein which Sauron worked to engineer the destruction of the North and South Kingdoms of the Dúnedain. His methods were very different in Arnor and Gondor, but just as evil repeatedly survived, so too good survived even if diminished..
Of old there was Sauron the Maia, whom the Sindar in Beleriand named Gorthaur. In the beginning of Arda Melkor seduced him to his allegiance, and he became the greatest and most trusted of the servants of the Enemy, and the most perilous, for he could assume many forms…¹
¹(The Silmarillion, Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age, pg. 341)
Helluin returned from Taur e-Ndaedelos to Norðr-vestandóttir Bý in the last week of Hithui and immediately began harvesting lucerne for winter forage. The animals were happy to see her, though again they had some complaints about her absence. She mollified them with food and kind words and then hunted some deer for the local wolf pack. These she brought to the western fence, and after howling a summons, awaited the arrival of the wolves. They came after an hour.
Greetings, bright one, the alpha said, so, 'twas thee that howled.
Greetings grey hunter, Helluin replied, aye, I have brought ye some prey in token of my absence of several years.
We thank thee for thy hunting as always, though I must admit that thy howl confused us at first. 'Twas convincing enough, but thine accent is atrocious and we thought 'twas one with a speech impediment or missing teeth claiming that the sky had fallen. He grinned at her and she chuckled. Hereafter, we shall recall thy timbre rather than thy content.
I am simply glad to be received with less whining and vitriol than I have received from the livestock, she said, the chickens being the worst.
They are dependants, whilst we are wild, he said, explaining it all quite succinctly. We expect far less of thee, and indeed our treaty is the only formal agreement we have with those on two legs.
Helluin nodded her understanding, then shifted topics and said, Borg Fjōlkyngi is again unoccupied and I foresee little trouble in these lands for some while to come. I hope that we may both enjoy them in peace.
That is good tidings, bright one. We have heard 'naught of threats since summer last. Thou hast our thanks for thy part in dismissing the evil from the forest.
The alpha looked o'er his shoulder at his pack, sixteen wolves of all ages, salivating as they eyed the deer. Helluin marked this and smiled.
I shall bid thee farewell for now and keep thee no longer from thy board. I wish thee and thy pack fair hunting and a safe winter. Call if ye need my aid.
The wolves dipped their heads to her and some yipped in farewell.
Again, thou hast our thanks for the meals. We wish thee and thy dependants a fair season, bright one. Should 'aught of tidings become known to us, we shall inform thee at once.
Now being as the season was too late for planting winter wheat and rye, Helluin simply hunkered down and passed the winter with little activity save milking the cows and making cheeses. Twice in the dead of Narwain, she shot some game for the wolves. When the spring of 2064 came, she planted her crops, weeded the gardens, and harvested some honey. In late Gwirith, she set out afoot with Beinvír's travel bag, bow, quiver, and fighting knives. By mid-Lothron, she had come to Imladris.
"Lord Elrond, a boon I would ask of thee," she said after they had exchanged warm greetings and were seated in his study. The Peredhel canted his head to her, bidding her continue, for there was little that he would deny her after their thousands of years of friendship. "I would that thou take custody of these articles I have recovered from Dol Guldur. They once belonged to my beloved and I can think of nowhere safer or more permanent to house them. Pray hold them for me? I know not when I shall reclaim them, but I find my heart still attached to them and the memories they engender."
"Of course, Helluin. 'Tis a small thing thou ask. I shall be honored to care take Beinvír's possessions for howe'er long thou would have me do so," Elrond said. He was already safe guarding the royal heirlooms of the House of Isildur and fostering their children. At times, he still wished that he had kept his grandfather's axe Dramborleg, but that had gone to Númenor long ago with his brother.
"Thou hast my thanks, meldir nín," she said, then sipped from the goblet of wine the Peredhel had provided. She sighed in satisfaction at the full-bodied red with its slightly smoky undertone.
"I had some confusing words from Mithrandir a season ago," he said, "transmitted through the aether. He expressed his worries about thee, but thought thou would be ok ere long. More worrisome to me was that his attention seemed a bit 'scattered'."
Ring talk, Helluin thought, 'tis likely much akin to speaking through water.
"I deem he refers to my melancholic air that was triggered following the discovery of the cell containing Beinvír's bag, bow, quiver, and knives," she said, "though he hath proved correct, for I took a sabbatical in Mirkwood."
"Mirkwood? 'Tis no longer a prime destination for a restorative holiday, meldis nín. It hath long been shadowed by evils, and I wager 'tis somber still for surely it cannot have healed in a day, or a week, or a month."
"I agree," Helluin said, nodding, "for I soon realized that it brought forth a plethora of memories that left me quite disconsolate, yet I discovered some distraction thither in the end."
The Peredhel cocked a brow in question, though he drew forth no parchment nor inked his quill to take notes.
"I found purpose for a time in the training of the Woodland Prince, one Legolas, son of Thranduil and Inthuiril. I had ne'er met him aforetime. For a season, I essayed to hone his skills at archer and knife-play."
"Ahhh, I have heard tidings of him, but I too have ne'er met him," Elrond said. "What think thou of him? Shall he be a worthy successor to his father?"
Without pause for consideration, Helluin shook her head 'nay'.
"He is too young yet, no more than a couple centuries in age, give or take. He is earnest in his duty to his people and may prove open-minded with strangers, or at least he refrained from hating me even after I terrified him to swooning at our first meeting," she chuckled at that. "I reckon it shall be long ere he is self-possessed enough to rule his father's realm. 'Til then, I shall pray for Thranduil's continuation upon the throne. He is a fine lord and good king, or he was when last I met him in 1551. Alas, much sorrow has befallen him since."
Elrond nodded, accepting her appraisal of the young prince. T'would be a disservice to him and his realm should he be compelled by ill fate to take his father's throne for many centuries.
"In answer to thine observation that Mithrandir seemed 'scattered' in thought, when last I saw him as he set out to visit Aiwendil at Rhosgobel, he bore a sack filled with the same mushrooms that caused such consternation to Galadhon and me some years ago. I wager he spent the time with his colleague exploring their effects," Helluin said.
The Peredhel raised both brows in surprise at that, but made no comment.
They passed to other topics thereafter, including the state of Eriador and the Heirs of Isildur, the continued lack of any sign that Moria had been infiltrated, the successful suppression of the Yrch in the High Pass, and the relative peace of the western lands for the last handful of decades. In the south, no further disasters or threats to Gondor had followed on the heels of Eärnur's disappearance. All seemed well at present, though the Wise held their breaths and waited for the other shoe to drop as e'er it had aforetime. Still, sometimes lack of tidings was good tidings in itself. Eventually, all their questions had been asked and all their concerns had been addressed.
On the following morn, Helluin took her leave of the Hidden Valley. She crossed eastward o'er the Hithaeglir and made her way back to Norðr-vestandóttir Bý at the end of Lothron. The Noldo discovered the chickens testy and the crops in need of attention, and so she set to work at farming. There she settled into a mundane existence of satisfying the livestock, tending the crops, repairing the structures, and conversing at times with the wolves. Many small things there were to occupy her mind and hands, and so the time slipped by unremarked. For the second time in her long life, the dark Noldo had become the ruling lady of a realm, though this time, her subjects were horses, cows, sheep, and chickens rather than Nandor and Men. She had for allies a pack of wolves rather than the realm of Belfalas. 'Twas long thereafter ere any tidings or lore again spoke of Helluin Maeg-móremenel.
Now though the western lands were for the most part at peace, 'twas a Watchful Peace that endured for 'nigh on four centuries. The Great Enemy was occupied, first with his own healing, and then with certain long-term plans that he now enjoyed the opportunity to advance. His surviving Úlairi awaited further orders and took no actions against the west. During that time, the Wise grew increasingly anxious, mortals steeled themselves against the renewal of old threats, births and deaths proceeded mostly from natural causes, and life went on. Yet things were different in the East.
At dusk on 28 Lothron, T.A. 2063, the dark cloud of Sauron's malice wafted screaming into the topmost chamber of the tower in his retreat by the Sea of Rhûn. So terrible were his cries of suffering that even the faithful and ambitious Khamûl dared not present himself 'til he was summoned. The Yrch and those few Easterling Men in the fortress stopped their ears and cringed from the terror that seeped through the very stones to invade their hearts. Misery revels in misery 'tis said, and Sauron was full-willing to share. So intense was the pain their master projected to afflict them that no few slew themselves, whilst others victimized whosoe'er they could as though 'twas the end of the world. In the Ravishing Halls, studs thrust faster, harder, and deeper whilst 'sows' writhed more fetchingly, for all felt that they were doomed and the morrow was a chimera to be rebuffed in a fey and frenzied present.
Being cloven in half by the beam of Light that Mithrandir had emitted had been a complete shock to the Dark Lord. Despite having experienced such an assault aforetime, he had thought himself far enough from Rhûn to have no such exposure, and yet the very same force had assailed him in Dol Guldur. The repetition of that incident was too painful to be a farce, too bedeviling to be coincidence, and too injurious to shrug off. In those two defeats he had lost a half millennium of accumulated power, and bitter was the realization that he would have to forgo his bid to dominate Middle Earth for an extra five centuries…unless he were to recover his Ring.
Of course, the common thread in his two recent defeats had been Helluin's presence. From the window of his high chamber in Sheol, he had seen her providing the power for the terrifying weapon of Light. He had watched as it laid low his Wainriders and butchered Ungolúróg. In Dol Guldur, there had been no such weapon. Sauron had felt no similar fear when approaching and enveloping Helluin, and indeed, they had shared their suffering in parity. He had spoken to her and she had listened and replied. He had deemed 'twas the start of a promising relationship.
But then Mithrandir had flown down on the back of an Eagle and what could have been the long-anticipated opening of a beautiful friendship with the dark Noldo was foiled in the most disadvantageous way imaginable, or so Sauron thought. The meddlesome Ithron had assailed him with a feeble Light that he could have easily withstood for long enough to suppress the diminished Maia. Indeed he had been doing just so ere Helluin had taken Mithrandir's hand. Then the Wizard's beam of Light had been magnified immeasurably to become something far out of proportion to his power. Sauron could ne'er have anticipated that effect and he had had no time to formulate a counterattack. As at Sheol, his only salvation had been to flee.
Long the Dark Lord pondered these things, wondering how 'twas possible. Ere he broke from his ruminations, a decade had slipped away, but at last he was feeling more like himself. Though still weakened by his losses, he had managed to knit his vaporous form back together. How swiftly flew the days whilst he was having no fun, he mused, and then he set his mind to the advancement of his schemes.
Now Mairon had become enamored of Melkor's will long aforetime, when the greatest of the Valar had proposed to him that Arda was in need of proper management. How can a single world ascend to order when ruled by committee? he had asked the curious smith. How can so many, each with their own interests, be compelled to act for a single Greater Good? Would it not be better if, rather than Ulmo attending water whilst Manwë is occupied with air, that one will determined the course of both? Are these things not bound together in Ilúvatar's design? So too with 'aught else inhabiting this creation, for they are all parts of a whole, and rightly, they should be ordered by the mightiest amongst us, for is that not the greatest labor for which we were conceived? Have we come to Arda only to fail through dissention?
Mairon had no wisdom to gainsay the Vala's arguments, and indeed, he could see the wisdom in them. Arda was too great and too varied for any sundry collection of rulers to administer with coherence and purpose. The tumults of the sea in particular, he deemed repugnant. The weather was a disaster of unpredictability. When asked, he had agreed to aid Melkor in bringing order to the world, not as a contesting equal, (as the pantheon of the Valar seemed to be), but as a counselor and assistant. Somewhere during the early years, his subservient role had slowly been defined. He had become less a consultant than a servant, less a confederate than an underling. By then, 'twas far too late to change courses or allegiances, and besides, there had been many perks.
The command of the western citadel of Angband had fallen to him whilst Melkor directed their efforts from Utumno. And during that time, Mairon had learnt much lore and sorcery from his master, for 'twas there in the great northern fortress of old that Melkor had first bred the Orcs.
"My loyal servant, where is our guest?" Sauron asked of Khamûl.
"In proper quarters awaiting thee, my master, as has been now off and on for a dozen centuries," the Nazgûl said.
"Then let us go that I may offer fitting welcome," Sauron said, "but first, pray bring me a half-dozen Yrch of robust physique. I need raiment appropriate for meeting a proper lady."
Now after Khamûl had delivered hence the six strapping Orcs and Sauron had rent their bodies and donned their parts, they descended from the high chamber to the guest quarters, where behind a locked door of heavy wood lay a well-appointed suite of rooms befitting a noblewoman of Númenor.
"My lady, I come to pay my respects," the grotesque said with charming tone. Sauron sketched a courtly bow to the dark-haired beauty standing before him.
"Ahhh, my Lord Sauron, how I have yearned for thy company these last years. The tedium has grown…tedious," she said, her voice seductive though her eyes seemed rather vacant. "I have heard rumors that thy sojourn west was interrupted?"
"Indeed so, but 'tis a consideration 'neath thee, princess and not to be fretted o'er," he said lightly. "All shall be sorted in good time. 'Til then, I must again beg thine aid. I have brought thee a visitor who may lighten thy spirits and provide thee some entertainment. I ask only the usual, as aforetime."
"But of course, my lord. I shall be glad to aid thee as I can," she said, her glance coy, save for her right eyelid that twitched as it were afflicted with a tic of long habit. She smoothed her hair with the mannerisms of a seductress, but her Ring was hidden and adorned not her finger.
They shared a few more pleasant exchanges of conversation ere she kissed Sauron's cheek, and then he and Khamûl departed, carefully locking the lady in her rooms. On their way deeper into the fortress to greet their visitor, Sauron thought back on his good fortune in recovering her.
In T.A. 882, she had boarded a ship at Pelargir, and by order of the twelveth king, rode down Anduin to the Bay of Belfalas. From Ethir Anduin, she rounded the Isle of Tolfalas to the east and then continued south hugging the coast of Harondor. In time, she sailed beyond the entrance to the Bay of Umbar, and there passed out of the knowledge of the Men of Gondor. They bid her good riddance.
For another six days, her ship had continued south ere it had been sighted by sailors crewing a vessel of the Azūladathâni¹. When they had approached, their hails had been ignored. Having marked the ensign of Gondor at the masthead, they had boarded prepared for battle, but to their amazement, they found the ship deserted save for a furious Lady Zôrîphêl² and the ship's cats. ¹(Azūladathâni, Eastward Realm = azūlada(eastward) + thâni(land, realm) Adûnaic) ²(Zôrîphêl, Fiery Daughter = zôr(flame) + -î(f. suff) + -phêl(daughter) Adûnaic)
"Take me to the house of my father," the lady had imperiously demanded, and not a one amongst the sailors had dared to oppose her. Five days later, after marching through a pass in the northern Grey Mountains, she and her cats had walked into the palace of Alkarondas¹ where she was received with joy by her father Azûlzagar², lord of the surviving King's Men of Númenor. Fifty years she had served their cause in the stronghold of her enemies, but now the deposed Queen Berúthiel had returned home. ¹(Alkarondas, Dome of Glory Adûnaic) ²(Azûlzagar, East Sword = azûl(east) + zagar(sword) Adûnaic)
At the feast that night to celebrate her homecoming, Zôrîphêl marked a counselor amongst the throng, one whom she had known ere her engagement to Tarannon, yet now he was different as night and day. Their eyes met 'cross the room as he held her precious white cat, and she felt him familiar, as if she had spoken with him each day for decades…as if he had whispered in her ear whilst she slept. 'Twas as fated that they would meet after the hall of feasts had been cleared and she was returning to her chambers.
"My princess, at thy convenience, I would beg a moment of thy time in counsel," he said, after offering a courtly bow.
They were alone in the hallway with none to observe his obeisance, yet he took no liberty in the situation and his decorum remained exemplary. Princess Zôrîphêl had met his eyes with a nod, for somehow she felt that she could deny him not.
"The hour is early yet and I have no duties pressing, lord counselor. I deem there is no time like the present," she said, and preceded him into her sitting room. He followed at a respectful distance, the white cat shadowing his steps.
They took seats at opposite ends of a plush divan set before a hearth wherein a cheery fire warmed the chill night air. The white cat gracefully leapt up to take station in his lap. She poured them goblets of sweet fig wine, something that she had missed in Osgiliath.
"What may I do for thee, Lord Dulganâlu¹," she asked, e'er the attentive hostess. ¹(Dulganâlu, Black Shadow = dulga(adj. black) + nâlu(shadow) Adûnaic)
The white cat had stood on its hind legs to gaze into the counselor's eyes. Zôrîphêl watched whilst its vitality was sapped as Dulganâlu reclaimed the daemon that had animated it. In moments, 'naught remained but the mummified husk of the cat that had accompanied her north a half-century past. He flung the desiccated shuck into the fire and offered her a smile of regret.
"A long life it enjoyed in thy service, my lord," she said, dismissing its loss. She did not truly remember much about the cat save that she had abhorred it at first. All had become unclear after.
"Princess, I would that thou remain as thou art for all time, unaffected by the passing of the jealous years," he said, gazing deeply into her heart with hypnotic eyes that perceived the same desire as in the King's Men of old. His eyes were far more compelling to her now than she recalled them being ere she went to Gondor. "Indeed, I would wish thee returned to the body of thy youth whilst retaining the wisdom of thy years."
Zôrîphêl was then one hundred fifty-five years of age, having been born in T.A. 727, and had been seventy-three years younger than her ex-husband. For one of her bloodline, she would be reckoned barely late middle aged, yet what Númenórean woman would not wish to reclaim the beauty and vitality of her youthful third decade? Deep in her heart, she had felt cheated of her best years even ere she had been forced to languish in Gondor's fishy smelling capital city astride Anduin. Her own peoples' royal court had been oppressive enough.
"An intriguing desire, Lord Dulganâlu, but no more than a fancy, I wager," she said with a wistful smile. "I thank thee for thy sentiment, nonetheless."
The counselor smiled in return, and lo, upon his palm lay a slim Ring of gold bearing a red stone of carnelian. 'Twas barely even of a diameter to adorn a lady's little toe. Its blood red gem caught the firelight and its gleam drew her eye.
"In the years of thine absence I have learnt some esoterica of the inscrutable East," he said, "and by such arcana an intriguing desire might be made far more than a fancy, if thou would have it so, princess. I would only ask thine aid from time to time, for thou hast learnt much of the enemy known to no other and I would have thy counsel."
"It seems thou offer a great boon for so small a favor in return, lord counselor," she said, eyeing the Ring with growing desire, "yet I am intrigued. How then would I attain to this eternal youth?"
"Simply by bearing this Ring, my princess," Dulganâlu said, "and 'naught could be simpler. T'will not even be evident to any prying eyes that thou bear such an enchantment, though in the centuries ahead, I wager that some shall mark that thou age not."
"I had been accused of being a witch through all my time in Gondor," Zôrîphêl said, "and oft enough did I yearn for it to be true."
"Then shalt thou accept this gift of my devotion to thee and thy family, and in token of the aid I offer to thy peoples' cause that perhaps one day the Usurpers shall be o'erthrown and the true king's loyal Dúnedain be restored to their rightful place upon the Mortal Shores?"
"In hope of living to see that day of glory restored, I accept thine offer, Counselor Dulganâlu," she said. "May it be done here?"
"Nay princess," he told her, as if with regret. "This thaumaturgy must be performed with due ceremony in the temple. It requires an invocative incantation, but t'will take little time. We may do so at thy convenience."
"Then I deem there is no time like the present," Zôrîphêl said, offering the counselor a smile.
"Intrepid thou art, as befits a true daughter of Anadûnê¹," he replied, rising and offering his hand. She was but five generations removed from the last to rule the royal house of Armenelos, the purest survivor of a very valuable bloodline. ¹(Anadûnê, Westernesse aka Númenor Adûnaic)
In the dead of night, they had gone to the temple. 'Twas the first time that Zôrîphêl had seen it deserted. Not even the priests were in attendance and no sacrifices burned on the altar. They lingered not in the public spaces, but rather Counselor Dulganâlu led her down a long stair to a torch lit crypt, and through that to a chamber sealed by a door of iron embossed with reliefs depicting Armenelos in the days of Ar-Pharazón. Strangely, its decoration seemed familiar though the princess would have sworn that she had ne'er come thither aforetime.
Lamps of art atop tripods illuminated the space within, and five masked servants in black robes stood silent 'round an altar slab in the center. Scribed upon the floor 'round it was a Circle of Invocation encompassing many esoteric symbols. The air was awash with the cloying scent of incense unfamiliar to her, whose smoky tendrils wafted in torpor.
Dulganâlu bid Zôrîphêl put off her robes from the feast, they being 'trappings of the mundane world unfit for the practice of the high arcana'. When she was naked, he helped her up onto the slab where she reclined on her back. With a gesture, he beckoned the servants 'nigh and they stood waiting, one at her head and two each at her sides. A hand bell he rang and then began chanting in a foreign tongue, the syllables harsh, but after a short time, she felt relaxed and paid his words no heed. Her eyes grew vacant and her head lolled side to side.
Gently but firmly, the servants to her sides laid hold of her elbows and knees, drawing them outward, whilst the servant at her head laid his palms on the fronts of her shoulders and pressed them down. Dulganâlu set a rolled oilskin on the slab 'twixt her thighs and unwinding it, revealed his implements of esoteric art. The chant droned on, the sweetness of the incense increased its effects 'til Zôrîphêl lay limp with the hint of a grin shaping her lips.
When the princess reacted not to a pinch, the counselor deemed her ready to proceed and he used a soft brush to lather soap in a dish. This he applied to her mons, and with a straight razor, carefully shaved her bare. A few words of power insured that she would remain so e'er after. When she was revealed fully, he laid a hand o'er her mound and morphed her shaft to the length and thickness of a finger, carefully inspecting the transmutation after and deeming it sufficient. Then a cleansing tincture he spread upon her and after reflexing her hood, took hold of her glans with slotted forceps. 'Neath the influence of the incense, she giggled.
Now he anointed a needle to cleanse it and set his left hand firmly on her public bone, pressing down to stay any reflex spasms of her pelvis. Then with a swift thrust of the needle, he pierced her glans side to side through the slots in the forceps. With assured motions, he attached one end of the gap in the Ring to the end of the needle and then drew it fully through her flesh, and finally, he threaded the carnelian gem into the gap in the Ring.
After releasing the forceps, Dulganâlu took a moment to appraise his work. Relieved of the pressure, the glans became turgid, the Ring piercing it fetchingly displayed through its fingertip thickness. A glance to Zôrîphêl showed her skin smoothing, the small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and the faint lines on her forehead banished fore'er. Her breasts plumped and firmed, no longer sagging slightly to the sides as she lay on her back. The skin on her tummy drew taut and the hint of muscle tone appeared in her abdomen. Smooth, firm, and slender were her limbs, and flawless her pale skin. Thick and lustrous was her night dark hair, splayed out on the slab 'round her head. He thought that, save for her golden-brown eyes; she looked remarkably like his greatest foe. The princess met his glance and smiled up at him
"When shalt thou begin, Lord Dulganâlu?" she asked dreamily. "I feel ready, indeed, more than ready."
"Much has already been accomplished, princess, and but one more stage of the enchantment needs be completed," he told her with a reassuring smile. "Pray relax and I shall inform thee when we are done."
She nodded and smiled, but soon her eyes grew distant again, though her right lid occasionally exhibited its characteristic tic. The two servants who were no longer needed to restrain her arms came to stand 'twixt the counselor and those who pinioned her legs apart. A small lamp with a reflector he set 'twixt her thighs to give ample light, and he bid the servants use two fingers from each side to open her birth canal that he could introduce an instrument within her body. With it, he dilated her occult opening, and then with the forceps, extracted the copper-wound mithril T from her womb that had poisoned all seed and denied Tarannon any chance of making her with child. It had worked flawlessly for fifty years. The princess had accomplished her original mission, for now the king's aged milt had soured and the House of Anárion could conceive no direct lineal heir.
Zôrîphêl felt as if she were floating in a pool of warm water, weightless, heedless, and tranquil. She neither felt, nor cared that Dulganâlu and then his five servants mounted and coupled with her one by one. Their thrusting and the resultant bouncing of her breasts only left her vacantly giggling. When the servants finished, they set aside their enchanted masks and quit the chamber for the crypt where the effects of the incense could wear off. The counselor extinguished the thurible and then opened the doors to the airshafts that swiftly purged the chamber of smoke. He laid a gilt embroidered coverlet o'er the princess and then took a chair to await her recovery.
During that time, he admitted to himself that the sordid carnality was 'naught but his fantasy of vengeance through the sexual degradation of his perennial foe, the one who had foiled and fought him for Ages, and who, save for the color of her eyes, looked well 'nigh identical to Zôrîphêl. Surely, Helluin would feel much alike, though t'would be more enjoyable if she struggled. Then he dismissed the train of thought. Indulgence was his right, it had felt good, and that was all that mattered.
When Princess Zôrîphêl awakened, she felt a little sore, but more noticeable than that, she felt blessed with the exuberance of youth. A glance at her hands made her gasp; they had not been so smooth in o'er a century. E'ery nail and e'ery cuticle was perfect. Lord Dulganâlu rose from his chair after seeing her sit up, and he came to her, providing a hand mirror. In wonder, she inspected her visage, for she was indeed young again, her beauty recouped in full. As joyous as she was incredulous, she rose from the slab, the coverlet falling unheeded to the floor, and unabashed by her nakedness, leapt to hug the counselor whilst offering her thanks. She ne'er marked the o'erflow of male 'essence' that dribbled from her lips. One last time, the residue of the copper protected her and she conceived not.
"Thy beauty is returned in full, my princess, and now it shall be fore'er," he told her with a broad smile. "All aspects of the enchantment proceeded flawlessly. Upon the day that Gondor falls and thy line is restored to the throne of the Men of the West, thou shalt stand beside me, as witness and foremother of kings."
"I shall look toward that day and e'ery day 'til then, Lord Dulganâlu," she said. "Pray call upon me for counsel as thy needs arise."
"I shall be proud to do so, my princess. Now I bid thee dress and then take some rest. Thy family hath come to escort thee to the palace, for they too have yet another reason to rejoice."
In the crypt beyond the door of iron, Zôrîphêl found waiting her father Lord Azûlzagar, her elder and younger brothers, her uncle, and his son, a dear cousin with whom she had passed her childhood. They surrounded her with hugs and joyful words and together, they all returned to the palace. If the princess marked that they smelt of the incense, she dismissed the observation as irrelevant, for so too did that cloying scent cling to her own robes.
Now the years passed and in T.A. 936 Azûlzagar passed from Arda. The loss of the city of Umbar in 933 to Gondor's King Eärnil I had hastened his decline. Coincidentally, (or not), Eärnil I died at sea during a sudden and violent storm off the coast of Umbar in the same year as Azûlzagar.
Zôrîphêl's elder brother took the lordship of the Azūladathâni and ruled but a year ere passing the throne to his son who reigned a century and thirteen. In his time, Umbar was besieged and in 1015 King Ciryandil of Gondor slain, but the king's heir Ciryaher eventually lifted the siege in 1050. The port continued to be occupied by the Usurpers and her younger brother was compelled to become a hostage of Gondor, living out his last years in the same wretched city of Osgiliath wherein she had previously been confined by marriage.
By then though, Zôrîphêl had been gone o'er a century, for her longevity and persistent youth had drawn unwanted attention and speculation. The whispering had begun the night of her return when she had seemed to shed most of her years, though many who spoke of it had mysteriously disappeared from court. Still, the whispers had continued. It seemed that in the end, her people proved no less superstitious than the Gondorim had been, and ere the princess could be tried and burnt alive for witchcraft, she had been spirited from the city of Alkarondas.
In T.A. 937, when Zôrîphêl was two hundred ten and still looked thirty, the aged Lord Dulganâlu had come to her with urgent warnings, for after fifty-five years, she was unchanged.
"My princess, Alkarondas is grown unsafe for thee. The loss of Umbar has set all the populace on edge. They seek scapegoats to assuage their failure and thy father is no longer living to protect thee. Now thy brother too has given up the throne. I beg thee, allow me to aid thy flight to safety," he had beseeched her.
"And whither would I go, my lord? All Harad is in an uproar. Some at court even whisper against my nephew's new reign. Soon he shall be forced to war simply to appease them. With Gondor's might at sea there can be no escape for me aboard ship, and o'er land the crossing is four hundred fifty leagues even to reach Khand."
"I would take thee beyond Khand, my princess, to a strong fortress in the east, in Rhûn. 'Tis remote from Gondor and well guarded and I have great influence there. I could convey thee hence in safety, and in but a short while. Thither, thou could dwell in peace 'til better days come and all thine enemies are passed away."
For a few moments, she seemed to pause for thought and the counselor was again reminded of his greatest foe, for with her different colored eyes cast down, Zôrîphêl was indeed her distant foremother's image.
"I have 'naught in Alkarondas any longer," she finally admitted, "this I understand. How swiftly they forget my sacrifice. Alas, I seem to have outlived my home, for its welcome has grown chill. Aforetime hast thou had my best interests at heart, Lord Dulganâlu, and much have I to thank thee for already. Again I shall put my faith in thee, who has ne'er failed me aforetime."
Again, he offered her his hand and again she clasped it. Again, they left the palace by night.
This time they went not to the temple, but rather a carriage conveyed them beyond the city walls. At the verge of the desert, they stayed their ride and debarked, and there Dulganâlu bid the driver turn for home. Alone in the still of a crystalline night they stood.
"Freedom and safety await thee, my princess, and now at last I may shed this disguise that has served me long and well. I shall miss him, who passed four score years ago from a regrettable accident and thereafter provided me with a home I have outlived and whose welcome has also grown chill."
Then it seemed that a great cloud of black smoke erupted from the counselor's mouth and his body collapsed, finding its true state as a corpse falling into dust. The necromantic animation had been flawlessly executed, for it had included the convincing aging of the long dead host.
Zôrîphêl was only mildly surprised; a reaction unexpected to a part of her, yet her heart had felt the truth of it all along, for from the moment of her return, Lord Dulganâlu had been far more than he had been ere she had departed for Gondor. And so the princess fell to her knees in the warm sand and bowed her head before her god.
The black cloud swirled, reveling briefly in its escape from the crumbling husk, and then it enveloped the princess and Zôrîphêl felt its presence, cool and refreshing, sliding o'er her skin like a coat of oil. 'Twas intimate and supremely sensual and she embraced it with heart and arms and legs, just as she would a lover.
And then they were rising into the air! The ground dropped away as if seen through a dense bank of fog and she felt reassurance and safety whilst their speed increased 'neath the stars and moon. The leagues fled behind them in a blur as they left Alkarondas behind, and within the cloud of smoke, not even the rush of air did Zôrîphêl feel upon her skin, nor did she hear its whistling with her ears. Instead, she felt the oily smoothness of the inky cloud surrounding and penetrating her body, and the insistent motion of its swirling billows against her breasts, 'twixt her thighs, and within. She moaned and closed her eyes, reveling in the unexpected stimulation. Ere she was aware of it, her hips were thrusting to meet it. Zôrîphêl found that she enjoyed flying far better than riding in a caravan or sailing aboard ship.
None heard her cries of ecstasy as they slipped through the air whilst the lands of Harad passed 'neath them. None marked their nuptial flight along the southern arm of the Ephel Dúath, nor their crossing of the gap east of Nurn. Somewhere along the way, the wind of their speed had lashed away her robes though she ne'er felt it. In the light of dawn, they came to the eastern fortress of Skator. By then, Zôrîphêl lay naked and unconscious, encradled within the black cloud, exhausted by her repeated climaxes, and content in her post-coital bliss.
Sauron alit in the topmost chamber of the tower and laid Zôrîphêl upon a couch of velvet. A coverlet of silk floated down to drape her and he commanded food and drink be left for her to enjoy upon waking. Then Sauron took his leave to find volunteers to clothe him, carefully locking the door whilst wondering, (more than he cared to admit), if his greatest foe would feel the same eagerness whilst writhing 'neath him.
Now the years passed and soon many decades had fled. Ne'er the most social, Zôrîphêl hardly noticed her isolation, being a princess happily ensconced in a high tower and surrounded by fawning servants. In truth, she no longer perceived the passing of time as would a mortal; she simply seemed to drift through it unaffected. Sauron visited her regularly to share conversation as they both bided the time required for all those known to her to pass from Arda.
In T.A. 1050, Gondor achieved a crushing defeat of the Haradrim and the siege of Umbar was lifted. The son of Zôrîphêl's elder brother was aged and in 1058, he passed the throne to his son and heir, who had been born in Alkarondas in 971. He and the princess had ne'er met. Sauron deemed that the time had come.
Again, Zôrîphêl rode amidst the smoky black cloud, but this time she returned to the city of her birth rather than fleeing it. Her notoriety was long forgotten by then, all of it o'ershadowed by decades of war and a woeful defeat. In Alkarondas, the Azūladathâni celebrated the ascension of their new monarch and meditated revenge.
The festivals still enlivened the city when they arrived. Straightaway, they went to the temple.
The priests and worshippers were shocked to silence and stood in awe of the black cloud that roiled into their midst. This apparition settled o'er the altar and disgorged the body of a woman wearing the regalia of a High Priestess of Melkor. Such accouterments had not been seen in centuries.
The cloud then leapt to envelop the chief priest and Sauron took possession of his body. A fell light now illuminated his eyes and the remaining priests and their congregation prostrated themselves on the floor in reverence for this manifestation of their god. Zôrîphêl rose from the altar and came to stand beside him.
"I am Anadûniazar¹, Izindi-bêth² of Rhûn and Intercessor to the Azūladathâni before the sublime Adûnakhôr³," she proclaimed as she bowed low to Sauron. ¹(Anadûniazar, Western Star = anadûni(western) + azar(star) Adûnaic) ²(Izindi-bêth, Truth Sayer, Prophetess Adûnaic) ³(Adûnakhôr, Lord of the West Adûnaic)
Word of their presence spread through the city like wildfire and throngs lined up in the streets clamoring for entry to witness these wonders. And when the temple was filled so that the host barely had room to breathe, Sauron raised his arms and the soot on the domed ceiling migrated and formed itself into the depiction of a great hand, the hand of Melkor his master, reaching out from the Void to encompass all Arda 'neath his benediction.
And Anadûniazar said, "Behold the might of Adûnakhôr that shall return the majesty of the true Númenóreans to Middle Earth!"
All were bedazzled in the face of this miracle and they believed, for her words fired the hope in their hearts. Then even the new king came amongst them and with but a single glance became enamored of the beauty and majesty of the prophetess from the east. So his heart was stricken as had been foretold.
Within two months, they were wed, and Zôrîphêl felt no compunction in marrying her grand nephew. Within a season, the royal couple announced that she was with child, and within a year, she birthed a son and heir to the throne of the Azūladathâni. A daughter followed swiftly and then two more sons ere a score years had passed.
"A foremother of kings I said thou wouldst be, and now that has come true," Sauron said to her as they watched the king and his children in a courtyard of the palace, "and such shall come to pass again in the years to come, for thy bloodline must be concentrated and renewed, and each third generation thou shalt wed."
Zôrîphêl smiled and asked, "And what of the generations 'twixt?"
And Sauron replied, gesturing to her children, "See thou how attentive is the heir to his sister? In but a few years they shall find their hearts turned to each other and they shall wed with the blessing of their god that none may dare gainsay. So shall thy dynasty remain pure in blood."
Then Zôrîphêl shed tears of thanksgiving, and with reverence she leant o'er and kissed the cheek of her god, and all Sauron said came to pass in the flowing of the years.
In 1127, the son and daughter of Anadûniazar and the king were wed. Adûnakhôr presided o'er the ceremony in the temple and none dared question this when he cited the marriage of Ar-Pharazón and Míriel as precedent. Ironically, (or not), Zôrîphêl's daughter had been named Zimraphêl, Jewel-Daughter in Adûnaic. Her younger brothers cemented the allegiance of the highest noble families with their marriages to daughters of Alkarondas' leading houses.
Ere Zôrîphêl's son took the throne in 1167, the brother and sister had produced twins, a son and heir, and a daughter, born in 1156. These shared a cradle as babes and then a bed as they grew up. Zôrîphêl delighted in her grandchildren.
With the passing of her king in 1167, Queen Anadûniazar retired to Rhûn for a time, accompanied by Adûnakhôr at first, though he soon returned to ensure the advancement of his plans. 'Neath his tutelage, the twins waited not for marriage ere they were blessed with a son. Anadûniazar's first great-grandson was born in 1190. A second son was born in 1194 and they named him Adûnathôr¹. The twins were wed a decade later and took the thrones in 1271. They inaugurated their reign by declaring their elder son heir of the realm. ¹(Adûnathôr, Númenórean Son = adûna(Númenórean) + thôr(son) Adûnaic)
But what of their younger son? Adûnathôr spent his early years being tutored in all things by Adûnakhôr, and he became the most accomplished lord of his people. Yet 'twas not for their sake that he had been taught by a god. The younger son of the twins had been groomed for a great mission.
"Thou must come to Osgiliath, snake's nest of our enemies," Adûnakhôr told the young prince many times during his youth, "and there thou shalt wed a princess of Gondor, though none should believe it ere it comes to pass. Of she and thee shall be born one who shall be king, one of the pure blood of Anadûnê."
When he was but a score and ten years of age, Prince Adûnathôr was indeed compelled to Osgiliath as the hostage of the royal House of Alkarondas. There he lived out his life, eventually winning high honor and the status of a lord. In 1228, after but four years amongst his enemies, he began to court the Lady Calimarel¹, only daughter of Lord Calimehtar, who was the second son of King Calmacil and the younger brother of King Minalcar. ¹(Calimarel, Bright Daughter = calima(bright) + rel(daughter) Quenya)
Her father found her choice a surprise at first, yet he stayed his doubts and met the young prince. He found him knowledgeable in lore and languages, well versed in politics and even an aid to his prospective father-in-law in discerning some hostile plots at court. He was disciplined and well spoken, a more than able swordsman, and in appearance, undeniably of the pure blood of the West. That alone recommended him to Calimehtar, and in the end, he approved the young southern prince's suit for his daughter's hand and they were betrothed in the winter of 1230.
The wedding took place at Pelargir in the spring of 1232, in the hall of Calimehtar's family. Amongst the guests and friends of the bride's family were many nobles who eagerly accepted the young prince, for he was of the pure blood of Númenor, a thing they valued most highly. The inclusion of his bloodline in a noble house so closely related to the king could only enhance the royalty of Gondor, they believed, and should some ill chance befall the king's family, there would be lateral relations worthy of taking the crown. 'Twas insurance for Gondor and besides, the prince and princess made quite a handsome couple.
The blessing of marital bliss seemed realized 'twixt Adûnathôr and Calimarel and they became popular in the genteel society of Pelargir. At times too, they visited Umbar, now a stronghold of the Gondor's navy. There they were welcomed, for they were of the royal family and Calimarel's uncle was king. Fine mansions they built in both cities where they spent time socializing with the nobility, and so became known and esteemed by all. If 'aught seemed strange, 'twas that Adûnathôr insisted on being addressed only by his Adûnaic name, shunning its Quenya and Sindarin translations. The Elven tongues had e'er been sour to his ears. So the years passed 'til 1259 when the couple celebrated a great blessing. To them was born a son, whom they named Castamir.
Of Castamir, much is told elsewhere and his story is well known in the lore of Gondor. So we return to the tale of Anadûniazar and the people of the Azūladathâni. In Alkarondas, the elder son of the twins was heir to the throne. Though he was the most sought-after bachelor in the realm, with a simple spell of a few words, Adûnakhôr insured that his heart would cleave to none. The prince courted no woman of the Azūladathâni, for the identity of his mate had been known two generations ere his birth.
In 1304, Anadûniazar returned to Alkarondas, her appearance unchanged, of course. The aging few that recalled her were yet the more inspired by her divine preservation and many clamored to sacrifice themselves upon the altar of Melkor. Those younger folk that had ne'er seen her aforetime were easily enthralled by her beauty and majesty. 'Twas little surprise to anyone in the city that she won the prince's heart. They courted and she wed her great-grandson in 1312.
O'er the following decades, she produced an heir and a daughter to wed him, and a second son to fulfill the role of hostage to Gondor, if required. As the years passed, the heir and the daughter were groomed to rule the Azūladathâni as king and queen. The younger son eventually made his way to Umbar, and ere a half-century had passed, became a lord and captain of ships. In time, he came to serve his cousin/grandnephew and was one of his most staunch and trusted supporters, for they were twice kin by blood. Thus, when Castamir came with war to Osgiliath and seized the throne of Gondor, his right hand was Lord Captain Gwing who became Commander of the Northern Army and died at the Crossings of Erui by an arrow of Beinvír Laiquende.
All this and more Sauron recalled as he left Zôrîphêl's chamber in his refuge by the Sea of Rhûn. Almost had he brought Gondor 'neath the hegemony of Umbar and the remnant of the Black Númenóreans, and yet that plot had failed and Eldacar had been restored.
Had he still teeth, Sauron would have ground them in aggravation. 'Twas no surprise that his thought turned again to the ones who had been instrumental in opposing his campaign; Helluin Maeg-móremenel and Beinvír Laiquende foremost, and Kanafinwë Makalaurë.
Now Beinvír was gone. The indulgent lust that he rationalized as a tactical delay for continued parlay to gain her allegiance stayed his hand from assailing Helluin more directly. Maglor he would deal with later at his convenience. The last son of Fëanor was isolated in the east and perhaps a campaign of whispers could estrange him from his patrons, the Ithryn Luin. That tactic had worked well enough for his master in Aman, when Melkor had sown distrust 'twixt Fëanor and his half-brothers…and the Valar. Such magnificent dividends that ploy had wrought. Sauron hoped that the old adage, 'Like father, like son' might hold true in this case as well.
In 1447, Castamir's sons had escaped the Crossings of Erui. They had withdrawn first to Pelargir and finally to Umbar. Umbar had eventually become the Haven of the Corsairs, and it had remained a stronghold of the enemies of Gondor for 'nigh three and a half centuries. That much at least, Prince Adûnathôr had accomplished.
In 1540, King Eldacar's son Aldamir fell in battle with some descendants of Castamir and their Haradrim allies. Though Aldamir's son Vinyarion avenged him in 1551, winning a great victory for Gondor, barely o'er eighty years later, Angamaitë and Sangahyando, Castamir's great-grandsons, had assailed and pillaged Pelargir, slaying King Minardil son of Vinyarion in 1634.
Two years later, the Great Plague had struck, killing the royal family and breaking the line of Anárion yet again. In its wake, Gondor had been unable to continue prosecuting their campaign against Umbar for almost two centuries. 'Twas not 'til 1810 that Umbar's Corsairs were decisively defeated by Gondor's King Telumehtar and the last descendants of Castamir in Umbar were slain. It had turned out that Prince Adûnathôr had accomplished much indeed the Dark Lord had to admit.
'Twas after the decline of Umbar that Sauron had first sent his Wainriders against Gondor. The Medes had bedeviled the South Kingdom for a century, taking territory and slaying Kings Narmacil and Ondoher, again breaking the line of the Anárioni. The blood of the House of Anárion had been thinning by attrition since the days of Tarannon and Sauron gloated, for he had had a hand in all of those losses, including the last. Now there was no King in Gondor, nor would there e'er be again he reckoned, for the blood of the descendants of Meneldil was too diluted for the Gondorim to accept and its last monarch had left no heir.
Just as Murazor had brought down the North Kingdom at his direction, with Zôrîphêl's aid he had mortally diminished the South Kingdom. Sauron would destroy the remnant of the Faithful if 'twas the last thing he did. Using their Black Númenórean kin to accomplish it only made his coming triumph all the sweeter, for e'er had Sauron Gorthaur reveled in setting kin against kin and friend against friend.
Now there were new plans to advance and new threats to propagate against the west and in these, Lady Zôrîphêl would again play a part, she and his other royal guest.
To Be Continued
Tibblets: Thanks for adding 'In An Age Before' to your Favorite stories list. I hope that the updates keep your interest.
Superman 103174: Thanks for your review. I'm committed to completing this story, maybe over the course of the next year, lol. It's been going on so long that I'm not even sure what I'll do after it's done. Thanks for your praise, I hope that you'll continue to enjoy 'In An Age Before'.