Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: M

Couples: -

Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death, Loss of bodily autonomy (no Non-con)

Chapter: 36

Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me

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"I should have expected it." Sauron considered the two black-haired elves. "Shouldn't I?"

Schilder briefly flicked his eyes to the ruined goblet that was in front of them. This was more than his brother delivering poor work, he knew.

Beside him, the youngest of the three elves only shifted, but did not answer. "Who did you talk to?"

The Maia had better ears than any of them, hearing far more than they would. Fëanor's youngest hunched a bit, but still there was no answer forthcoming.

"IJzer... Do you really want to do this now? When your uncle is not here to save you two?"

"Tyelkormo." The smith breathed out in defeat.

"Ah, I should have expected him to not leave well enough alone." Their Master circled them, like a predator its' prey. "And you really thought I would not hear from up here, I presume?"

"I panicked." IJzer whispered, hands briefly twitching where he was kneeling on the black stone of the floor. "I did not..." He trailed off, ducking his head some.

"Did not...?" Sauron stopped beside him, but that hardly fazed him anymore. "Did not know them to be here? When the other side of the village heard my rage?"

"Him to be there." His brother finished his sentence, eyes firmly on the floor.

"Why do I think that is not all of it?" The Lord of these lands mused. "I see I have been too kind, if you still defy me like this."

"I would never." Both of them heard how the words had to be forced out. Schilder almost pitied his brother for how poorly he was adjusting.

"Oh, foolish thing." Their Master did sound equally pitying. "I guess I am in the mood to teach a lesson."

Now, Schilder could also not stop himself, flinching a bit at the prospect.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Fëanor had arrived on his own, taking a seat in the throne-room once he was allowed inside.

"You legitimately think you can find anything that could convince me?" Gorthaur was seated on his throne again, and this time the large wolf he knew to be Draugluin was curled around the piece of furniture.

"I made several promises to bring them back, or die trying." Finu's eldest evenly answered. "I do not intend to give up until we find some common ground which will allow me to keep those."

"Ah... a battle of attrition." The Maia tilted his head. "We will see then who fails first, won't we?"

"Yes." The elf kept his back utterly straight.

"On that note..." The being he would have to call 'host' for a lack of a better term gestured to someone behind him. "I felt a token of my regard for your efforts of getting here was due."

"A trifling thing, hardly worth regard." He countered politely, even as the vampire placed a box beside his seat. It was a simple thing, no decorations, though it had been sanded to utter smoothness.

His nostrils flared at the smell emanating from it.

"Then I suppose my regard for letting me live peacefully for this long." The Maia smirked, and Fëanor resisted the urge to glare at the implication. "Do open it, will you? I would like to know if it suits. You are sadly short on siblings that can convince me to give you back your things like Verloren did with your Silmarils."

Now he did briefly snarl at the name Finarfin had gotten. Instead of reacting much more, he pulled the box close enough that he could flip the lid open.

"Consider this some tokens for when you inevitably have to concede defeat." Gorthaur purred into his horrified silence. "I just improved on them yesterday and felt you might appreciate the left-overs. At least you'll be able to say you could take part of them back."

"You..." His famed temper flared, looking down on flesh that had to come from at least two sources, perhaps even three if his sons and brother had tanned and become more uniform in skin-tone while here.

"Tell your middle son to keep away from my things in the future." Morgoth's former lieutenant and torturer dryly countered his anger. "It ends poorly for them and I want them to be moderately undamaged."

He had to take several deep breaths to keep from lunging at the flame-haired form across from him. "I will." He finally managed to state, slamming the lid back on the box. "Please keep from damaging them further while we are in talks."

"I am afraid that is on them, not me."