When the group reached the healing rooms, Sauron was immediately settled in one of the beds and a fire was set to the torches to light the room.
Morgoth walked over to a large set of shelves and started looking for what he needed. "Keep him stable," he instructed the other two maiar, "It will take me a few minutes to get this brewed."
Quickly, the vala grabbed three books and opened them to their designated pages, his coal black eyes scanning over them carefully. He then gathered six empty vials to collect various medicines. Some medicines he poured from elixir bottles, some he had to quickly brew from scratch. He read and reread the books numerous times as he measured out what he needed. It was clear the vala was inexperienced with a medicine for this type of poison, but had an idea of how to keep it under control.
In the meantime, Gothmog and Thuringwethil worked together to keep the unconscious Sauron stable. Thuringwethil gathered a couple blankets and a bucket of water with rags, and Gothmog worked on cutting the sleeve off Sauron's cloak and tunic to expose the injury. He carefully placed a pillow under the limb, positioning the hand palm-up.
The mere site of the wound was enough to make the balrog cringe. "How is it possible to concoct a poison this lethal…?" he asked more so to himself.
"I'm not sure, but don't just stand there. See if Master needs help or fetch me more blankets," Thuringwethil said sternly. Setting down a small bucket filled with ice cold water, she immediately rung out a rag and started to pat down Sauron's forehead and cheeks. The injured maia remained unresponsive, but shivered heavily in response to the water.
"Stay with us, Sauron. We're going to help you," she said quietly as she dabbed the soaked rag against his pale, white lips to keep them hydrated. Worry filled her heart as she observed how dark and sunken his eyes were and how sickly his features had become.
Thuringwethil took note of the open wound on his left forearm, unable to steer her eyes away. The gash was not bleeding, but it remained puffy and heavily infected, making the skin even past his elbow discolored with murky greens. His veins appeared clear as day, a vibrant blue against his dull skin. She knew the poison was spreading dangerously fast. The vampire grasped his left hand and slightly panicked when it was ice cold. She hoped he wouldn't have to lose his hand over this, or worse, his entire arm.
"Sir, how can I properly clean a wound of this nature?" Thuringwethil asked curiously.
"Carefully. Remember, do not touch it," Morgoth replied strictly. The dark-haired vala then started walking over to Sauron's bedside, a cup of something in his grip along with a small bowl. He then put on a pair of leather gloves and handed a pair to Thuringwethil. "This medicine will keep his vitals stable, and the healing ointment should kill the infection while drawing out the poison in his arm."
"You sound unsure, milord…"
"Don't sit there and question me! Help me or get out of the way!"
Wordlessly, Thuringwethil helped tilt Sauron's head up and pried open his locked jaw just enough to allow Morgoth to press the cup to the maia's lips and pour the medicine in his mouth. Though in an unconscious state, Sauron swallowed the liquid with no issue. But now he was starting to become slightly responsive to what was going on around him. Every few minutes or so, the lieutenant's eyes would flutter open or he would make a faint sound.
"He's starting to wake up," Gothmog pointed out.
"Short-lived. The medicine has a strong sedative. It will put him right back to sleep," Morgoth said. He grabbed a piece of gauze and dipped it in the bowl, applying the sticky, swampy-looking medicine onto it.
He paused and looked at the two maiar. "Once I place this gauze on the wound, I'm going to wrap another over it to secure it. This will immediately start extracting the poison, so I guarantee it will be painful and Sauron will try to fight it, whether he's conscious or not. Hold him still, understand?"
Both balrog and vampire nodded wordlessly, ready for Morgoth to apply the medicine. Quickly but carefully, Morgoth placed the medicated gauze on the wound and wrapped another thick gauze around the maia's forearm to secure it tightly.
Almost immediately upon impact, Sauron started flinching heavily from the stinging sensation that was firing up quickly. Thuringwethil and Gothmog carefully held Sauron down as the maia unconsciously started to twist and turn, sounds of struggle pushing past the lieutenant's lips. Morgoth kept a steady hand on the bandage, making sure the medicine made contact with the wound.
Sauron writhed against the three people holding him down, but not once did he open his eyes. He whimpered and mumbled incoherently; not a single clear word could be made out. The anguish he was in stabbed at Thuringwethil and Gothmog's darkened hearts, knowing Sauron was tough as nails and not much could break the maia. They couldn't recall ever seeing their second in command in this much agony.
"Easy does it, Lieutenant. This is going to help you," Gothmog spoke sternly, but not meanly. Sauron struggled against the balrog's obvious strength, the medicine continuing to burn the wound mercilessly. The red-headed maia let out a hellish, piercing cry as he began to physically feel the poison being ripped from his entire arm. When the fighting wouldn't cease and the pain became unbearable, it took all three people to hold the lieutenant down. The unconscious strength he had, fueled by the pain, surprised even Morgoth.
"Calm yourself, Sauron!" the vala spoke up. When the red-headed maia managed to free his good hand from Gothmog again, Morgoth grasped the wrist once more, holding his struggling arm still. Morgoth leaned in closer to the unconscious maia, a serious look in his eyes. "I know you can hear me. You need to be in control!"
"He can't hear you, Milord," Thuringwethil said, shaking her head sadly. And the vampire was right; while in such a weak state of mind, and no doubt the sedatives in the medicine trying to kick in, Sauron was in blind anguish from the radiating pain, completely unaware of the others in the room with him.
Eventually, the maia started to cease his struggling as the burning feeling faded into a comfortable coolness. The medicine was successful in removing the poison and could slowly began the healing process. Left breathless and exhausted, Sauron was lifelessly still and the other ainur let him go.
Since the poison was extracted, Morgoth quickly replaced the gauze with a clean one coated with fresh medicine. Luckily, it did not cause the maia any pain this time as the irritation had faded. The vala and his maiar then sat down, tired from the struggle and cautiously watching over the lieutenant.
"That was scary to watch," Thuringwethil said softly. "I've never seen an ainu in so much pain."
"This was a mortal injury," Morgoth explained, just as quietly. "Not only was this medicine extracting the poison from the wound, but it was ridding his spirit of it too."
Gothmog cringed at the thought of that. "The treatment alone sounds as if it could have killed him…" he muttered.
"Easily."
Thuringwethil's eyes widened at that answer, realizing Sauron had beat serious odds. She was unable to hide the brief hint of worry in her eyes. "Would someone tell me what kind of bloody poison this is? How is this so dangerous for us?" she asked, horrified.
"It's black magic," Morgoth answered. "Both Sauron and I studied these spells and poisons to enhance weapons and combat, specifically aimed to take down other ainur if ever come across in battle. It just so happens that he recently took initiative to craft a weapon based on these studies, without my knowledge. I will not lie- I am very impressed, despite what happened."
"So what will happen to him now, Master?" the vampire wondered. Gothmog looked up in equal interest.
"The medicine did what it was supposed to do. The poison is removed, but he will remain severely weak. Because his spirit is frail, this will slow down the healing process. If what he said was true, and he has had this wound all day, that gave the poison plenty of time to cause serious damage," Morgoth explained calmly.
After Sauron had completely calmed down and had drifted into an uneasy sleep, Morgoth resumed checking on the maia's levels. He sighed tiredly. "I will fetch a healer to monitor him for the evening. The fever is still severe and his heartrate is high. He won't be out of the woods for a while." He spoke.
"What are we to do about the plans arranged for tomorrow's attack?" Gothmog wondered.
"We will wait. I have yet to go over the plans Sauron has approved already. Until he is well, you two are in charge of making sure the orcs stay in order and finalize your own paperwork. You are to report to me when plans are complete. We will postpone the attack."
"Yes, Sir."
Morgoth nodded at the response and sighed irritably. He walked over to the table and closed the ancient books, the spines of the books cracking and warped pages spitting dust as they slammed shut. The dark vala shook his head. "You maiar are more trouble to me than helpful," he uttered. Glancing at Sauron's unconscious form then to Gothmog and Thuringwethil, he took his leave.
"Don't worry about him. He will be fine."
Though the rest of the fortress continued their duties for the rest of the evening, Thuringwethil couldn't help but notice she was finding herself continuously keeping an eye on Sauron as he remained in the healing rooms. Every time she peered inside the room, Sauron's bed was the first thing her eyes spotted. The redheaded maia continued to stay bundled up in blankets as a healer or two would take turns checking on him. Knowing that he was taken care of, she continued her way knowing she still had tons of work to do and feigned any kind of concern when another maia would address her.
But it was difficult to not look inside the room every time she walked by, since it was included in her main route to and from her office. The vampire couldn't tell if she kept checking on him just because she was being nosy, or if it was her concerned thoughts continuously keeping her distracted from her job. The fact something lethal existed that could kill a maia simply unsettled her. But she came to conclusion that it wasn't the anxiety of this fact that had the image of Sauron fighting for his life replaying in her mind.
Sauron was her boss, besides Morgoth. The two of them had a rocky start when they first met, her being new to Morgoth's forces and Sauron being obligated to train her on her new duties since she was to be his messenger. He was far from a social butterfly and had little patience with Thuringwethil.
But eventually, the more they worked together and Thuringwethil's heart was trained to become just as unmoved and sinister as the other maiar under Morgoth's rule, the vampire noticed Sauron's guard and hardcore nature had slightly done the opposite.
They developed a friendship where they learned to work together, but also would get on each other's nerves for pure entertainment. Never before did she notice a playful, joking side to him; she thought he was completely incapable of that. She didn't dismiss how many times she and Sauron would fight and bicker, like the other captains of Morgoth's forces commonly did. But Thuringwethil knew if she was ever in trouble, Sauron wouldn't think twice to help her. Multiple times Thuringwethil had been injured while on the job and Sauron had been nice enough to put his work aside and help her with medicines and broken bones. None of the other captains would take time to do something like that. After being acquainted for many, many years, Thuringwethil still didn't dare address how Sauron had silently become more of a caring person since meeting her.
The vampire supposed that being genuinely concerned was a way of repaying him.
A/N: Part 3 will be uploaded soon! Thanks for reading!