Chapter Three

{Bay of Belfalas, Quellë 3000 SA (approx. end of October)}

The passage from death to life felt as of liquid yet was as light as air as he floated up slowly. Ecthelion turned his face up as the light grew brighter and felt his form become much heavier, more solid as he floated closer to the light. He brought his hand up and saw that it was no longer transparent and glowed faintly blue. He closed his eyes as he floated up and finally broke the surface. He took his first breath as he opened his eyes, and then took in the warm rays of Anor upon his face that mingled with the soft breeze that blew over him. He shifted in the water and looked around slowly, taking in his location. He saw in the distance a mist enshrouded land and knew it to be Arda. He felt a mixture of resignation and relief at the sight of his home, though he knew it was changed from last he had been there. But his fate was there, and so he knew he had to face it.

With a sigh, he began to swim towards shore, feeling the waves push him along towards the awaiting terrain that loomed ever closer towards him. He heard the call of the seagulls and smiled faintly at the almost greeting they sent him as they wheeled above him. He felt that his energy never waned as he drew closer to the shore and knew it to be of the Valar’s doing that he never grew weary until his feet touched the shore. He crawled onto the shore, panting slightly from exertion, for it had been many centuries since he had last breathed. Steadily, he went towards the forest that called to him, promising him comfort within its shadowed depths. He sat down next to a welcoming willow tree, smiling slightly as the lissome boughs brushed over him in greeting. Comforted, he let his eyes grow hazy with reverie, secure in the knowledge that he would be watched over for now by the forest.

Time passed around the unknowing Elf as he rested, luckily in a dreamless reverie, but it was not to last forever. The sound of fighting brought him slowly from his sleep and had reality crashing around him within moments. Standing, he brushed a hand over his face in an effort to dispel his sleepiness before striding from the protective willow's embrace.  He came around a bend and stopped as he came upon the battle scene, taking in the desperate lunges from the injured defenders as they fought against their attackers. The Orcs who were besieging what seemed to be travelers snarled in glee as they picked them off one by one until only a child and his mother remained.

Unable to move for some odd reason as he watched in sickening horror as they played with the child and mother cruelly, Ecthelion tried to go to their aide. But he could not for he felt paralyzed like he had never been before. Finally, when the mother lay dead from a blow to her fragile head and the child's wails filled the forest, it broke upon him why he was so paralyzed. The child looked like Glorfindel.

Pale long hair down to his waist, blazing blue eyes that defied the laughing Orcs as they taunted him over his mother's corpse, the child was the very essence of Glorfindel within a mortal's body. He gasped as the child's curses were suddenly silenced by a slice to his throat and he fell lifeless atop his mother. The Orcs turned their attention to him in surprise, then evil excitement at the thought of another death to add to their expedition. Ecthelion searched for a sword, and then prepared to battle them hand to hand when a hand came to rest on his shoulder, startling him. He whirled around, backing into a tree to make sure none of them came behind him as he watched a beautiful male come towards him.

From the way the Orcs were holding back, the Elf surmised that this person was their leader somehow. But the beauty before him was what threw him off into confusion. Hair as dark as the night sky, skin as pale as marble, and eyes as knowing as a Maiar within the dark depths, the male seemed to look deeply into Ecthelion’s own faer, as if searching for something that lay hidden deep within while a soft smile touched the rose colored lips. A slight shifting of the head revealed the pointed ears of a High Elf, yet Ecthelion knew that this was no Elf. ‘A Maiar...one of the servants of the Valar...but what is he doing here commanding Orcs?’ he wondered as he pressed himself against the tree, wide eyes focused on the Maiar as he came ever closer to him.

“Who are you, Lord Elf?” the Maiar murmured softly, almost seductively as he licked his lips, his eyes hooding as he gazed at Ecthelion. His voice was a smooth baritone, silky with promise and satiny with invitation. He tilted his head as Ecthelion remained silent and placed his hand alongside the wary Elf’s head on the tree trunk. “Come now...tell me who you are? They will not harm you and I sense that you are indeed someone important,” he purred out, smirking as Ecthelion closed his eyes slightly, his cheeks pinking.

“Ecthelion...” the Elf whispered softly as he looked down at his feet, away from the mesmerizing eyes. He almost shivered with both want and a slight bit of fear, confusion clouding his senses and reactions as he struggled to regain himself. Taking a deep steeling breath, he looked up slowly and locked cold grey blue eyes upon the Maiar. “I have told you my name, now who are you and what did those mortals do to deserve such cruel deaths?” he demanded softly.

“Ecthelion...of Gondolin are you?” the Maiar whispered thoughtfully, his voice lilting with his interest as he leaned closer. His dark studied the cold Elf before him, his lips tilting in a smirk that oozed amusement. “Gondolin that was destroyed by my Master...and now you return from Mandos’ Halls....” he continued as his smirk grew in realization when the Elf’s eyes flashed with both grief and rage as he jerked away. Shifting in, the Maiar nuzzled into the pale neck as his hands grasped Ecthelion’s shoulders, pinning him between the tree and the Maiar. “Such darkness I sense in you for one of the Valar’s favorite play toys. But you are Noldor as well...always so arrogant,” he purred in dark delight and merriment.

“Release me!” Ecthelion snarled as he pushed the Maiar away from him, but then was captured once more by scarred hands as the Orcs surrounded them or pinned Ecthelion. Growling angrily as the Orcs and their Master laughed in cruel pleasure at his struggles, the Elf Lord fought to break free, his heart pounding madly within his chest as he stared at the watching Maiar. “You are Sauron...I know you now! You are the one who betrayed wise Aulë for power!” he hissed out angrily, his gaze flinty with the fire of his rage as he glared at Sauron.

“I am He, though I go by the name of Annatar within the trusting ranks of your Kin of Eregion,” Sauron sneered as he stood, relaxed. He chuckled as he brought up his slender right hand, his ring finger glittering with malice as Anor’s rays played upon the dark gold that was encircling it. “To the end, that fool Celebrimbor believed me to be a friend and aide to him. Forever shall he wallow in his regret...” he purred mockingly before laughing softly, echoed by minions.  He stopped then as he tapped his chin before sauntering over slowly, his gaze carefully taking in the enraged, yet helpless Elf before him. “I wonder though, Ecthelion of the House of the Fountain, just why you have been reborn and especially in a place so near to *my* realm. Could it be because Gondolin’s ruins lie beneath the ocean near here along with almost all of Beleriand?” he mused before cupping Ecthelion’s chin with his hand. His eyes glittered with evil enjoyment as Ecthelion stared back defiantly. “And yet such delicious darkness in your faer. I think...that I shall use you against your own beloved Kin.”

“I will never serve you, evil creature of Morgoth! I will die before I ever serve you!” Ecthelion roared before he set into motion, his rage giving him the energy to break free. With a swift shake of his shoulder, he broke one hold and grabbed the surprised Orc’s sword, running the beast through with it. He then slashed the head off of his other captor before stabbing, slicing, or chopping the remaining Orcs until all were dead in a lingering pile of bloodied limbs or gored bodies. He panted for breath as he raised his weapon and faced Sauron, his eyes shimmering with his anger and need to destroy as he advanced slowly onto the watching Maiar. “I will destroy you and stop your evil from invading this land and my fate will be finished,” he whispered harshly as stalked forward.

“Your fate has only just begun, Ecthelion of Gondolin,” Annatar replied softly, his eyes slitted as he sneered at the Elf. In a move too fast to see, he shifted forward, knocking the sword from Ecthelion’s hand with a well aimed kick before grabbing the pale neck and raising the shocked Elf above him until he was dangling as he choked. Ecthelion tried to pry the clamped hand from his throat as he stared wide-eyed at the amused Maiar. “Do you think I am so easy to destroy? You have no idea of my power. But you will. And you will serve me, for I shall have great use for you, oath breaker.”

Furious as he struggled more, Ecthelion rasped out, “I...am...no...oath...breaker!”

Laughing cruelly, Sauron’s head fell back as he laughed. “You are as great an oath breaker as the one whom you gave your heart to!” he retorted in glee, eyes brightening as he saw the widening pupils within his captor’s eyes. “Oh aye, Elf Lord. When you died...you broke your oath to Turgon to do all you could to save your beloved city. By dying with vengeance and hatred in your heart, you condemned yourself to a path so dark that you will be my rival or more through the rest of time!” he declared, then laughed even more as Ecthelion’s hands fell limply to the Elf’s sides as he stared in distress at his holder.

Staring at nothing as shock froze his insides, Ecthelion now knew what the Valar had been warning him of. By vowing vengeance instead of a wish to be together again, he had blackened his soul, making it possible for the darkness inside to come forth should he be tempted. Which he had been just now by Sauron the Deceiver. He did not react as the hold around his neck loosened and released him so that he was standing listlessly before Annatar. He looked up slowly as his chin was lifted to gaze into the deceptively gentle eyes of the Betrayer. Cooing almost tenderly, Annatar smiled as he tilted his head, taking in the defeated gaze upon the pale face. “So much grief. You shall be my greatest triumph in creation. When your time comes, you shall aide me in the destruction of those blasted Elves and their Númenorian allies, the Edain and forever shall your faer be a bane upon they whom you have called Kin,” he whispered almost lovingly as he caressed the soft face with slender fingers.

Unable to even react, Ecthelion could only stare back as his doom was spoken. He had been weak and untrusting, as well as unforgiving. It was why he had not been able to save the child and his mother...because his hurt pride had seen the very image of his lover and he had wanted it to vanish. Slowly, his head tilted over to take in the sight of the fallen mortals whom he had betrayed, his gaze blank in his absorption. Unresisting, he followed after Annatar as he was led away and towards the north east to Mordor. His fate, for now, was once more not his own.

They traveled many days and many nights through the forested land until they came to the blackened and treacherous peaks that surrounded Mordor, Ephel Dúath. There they were met by a host of Orcs that were what seemed to be all that remained from Annatar’s unsuccessful siege upon the Elves of Eriador and Mithlond. Even still it was an impressive remainder ranging within the thousands as they marched into the black mountains. Sauron took Ecthelion to his dark tower Barad-dúr and led the bleak Elf to the depths of his tower where bubbled his potions and other concoctions alongside various creatures that were caged or chained up, snarling as they passed by. Two of the Orcs that had accompanied them inside roughly maneuvered the subdued Elf Lord to a set of wall shackles and chained him there.

They left and Annatar slowly came forward, his face tilted with a smirk as he watched the almost docile Elf. But he knew better. There was as great a fire within the defeated Elf as Glorfindel of Gondolin or any of the other ancient great Elven Lords. However, for now, that fire was subdued, to be twisted to Annatar’s use until the time came for it to be released. His hand came up and touched the pale facial skin, his smirk twitching in amusement as Ecthelion jerked away before turning his face aside while closing his eyes. “You fear what you may become,” Sauron whispered as he leaned in, mocking the bound Elf with kindness.

“You may have cracked my spirit, but I shall never bow to you,” Ecthelion retorted suddenly, quietly. His head came up as his eyes opened, filled with the fire that Sauron had known to be within.

Laughing softly, Annatar pressed close, pinning Ecthelion with his body as he wrapped his hand around the pale neck. “Your fire excites me, Elf Lord. Break you I shall...use you I will...destroy you...well that is for your Kin to do, now is it not?” he asked lightly, almost teasingly as he leaned his head to the side to keep their gazes locked. He inclined his head in and brushed his lips over Ecthelion’s, laughing once more as Ecthelion tore his lips away in disgust and rage before bucking against him in a bid to toss the Maiar off of his body. “Such spirit...you are truly one I shall enjoy...” he murmured in dark delight before stepping back.

He went over to his worktable and grabbed a flask, uncorking it before going over to a feline creature that paced nearby within a large cage. It was the largest of the creatures there, completely covered in ebony fur that glistened with the light from the wall sconces and had a long graceful tail swinging behind its powerful body as it paced slowly to and fro within the cage. Its golden green eyes all but glowed in the dim room as it watched them guardedly, growling softly as it continued to walk within its cell agitatedly, and growing all the more upset as Sauron approached. 

Watching the pacing creature, Sauron smiled softly, almost dotingly as he studied the beast, feeling Ecthelion's gaze upon them with just as much curiosity as he was showing the cat. "Do you know what they call this cat in your tongue, Elf?" he asked before looking over at Ecthelion, eyes twinkling with his amusement as he watched the Elf Lord. "Faron dhae...shadow hunter. He is one of only a few from deep within the forests of Fangorn. He was captured by my scouts one day and brought here, for he had killed seven of my Orcs. A truly amazing creature," he mused thoughtfully as he returned his gaze to the cat. "He is also known as a panther by the Men, but you do understand that the meanings are the same. He is...a deadly hunter," he purred as he strode slowly towards the watching panther. Reaching in, Sauron ignored the growl that soon grew into a warning roar as he grabbed some of the fur and tore it from the skin. Leaping back, the panther snarled and swiped at Sauron's pale hand, scratching it as he went back against the bars in an effort to escape.

Laughing softly, Sauron licked his injured hand before mixing it with the fur. Making sure that Ecthelion was watching, he placed the blood soaked fur into the flask, then corked it again. He held up the flask, where it swirled a deep maroon before turning into a pale pink. Sauron smiled evilly as he swirled it slowly before looking over at the apprehensive Elf. “Curious, Ecthelion?” he asked almost teasingly as he sauntered over. “This potion is a brew of the most powerful kind. My Master and I used it quite often in the creation of our werewolves,” he explained fondly, as if speaking about his children to an interested relative.

“Those monsters deserved the death they reaped from serving you and your Master,” Ecthelion snapped out in disgust as he pulled futilely at his bindings.

“Would that I could say so of *your* children, but you never had any, now did you? You were *so* busy taking it up the arse by that blond oaf Glorfindel, never knowing that when he left you for the day, he went and rutted with your beloved High King!” Annatar retorted with malicious glee as he laughed, greedily taking in the sight of Ecthelion’s shame colored face and slumped shoulder as his barbs hit their mark. Pouting his lip slightly in mock pity, he finished his return to Ecthelion’s side and ran a hand along the Elf’s chest, smirking as the Elf Lord jerked half-heartedly away. “Do you not thirst for revenge for being made into a fool?” he whispered enticingly as he leaned his head in, his soft lips brushing along a pointed ear to evoke a shudder of both disgust and longing within his prey.

Pulling away, Ecthelion turned his face away as he drew in deep calming breaths rapidly. His body thrummed with the desire that Annatar stirred within him, mingling with the fierce need for vengeance that the taunts had exposed within him. Oh how he wished mightily to have that vengeance for the betrayal and shame he had endured! His blood pulsed heatedly through his veins, mixing his lust and rage into one blazing inferno of unrepressed need within him. He trembled with his internal battle as his mind screamed denial of his need, trying to remind his heart that giving into the creature that had destroyed his home and Kin was unforgivable, but its voice was swiftly being drowned out by his need.

A strangled cry tore from his lips as he was abruptly touched intimately, his turgid length caressed by a smooth cold hand as it rose from his suddenly unlaced leggings. He cried out again as he was squeezed almost gently, his wide dark grey eyes flying up to lock with the lust-filled eyes of his captor. “N-Nay! D-Daro!” (S-Stop!) he gasped out even as his body arched into the touches. He tried to turn his head away, but was held captivated by the dark eyes before him.

Smiling in a shade of loving, Sauron continued to stroke the pulsing flesh in his hand. “You are mine, Ecthelion of the Fountain. Now and until the end of time,” he purred out huskily as he pressed closer. He leaned his head in and brushed his lips over Ecthelion’s before lapping at them with a flick of his tongue. He growled in pleasure as the tender mouth opened and his tongue was greeted by Ecthelion’s tongue. He slid his tongue along the wet greeter, delighting in the panting breaths that sent tingles along his body as they brushed his mouth. He growled once more as Ecthelion moaned with his impending release. “Mine...” he repeated before uncorking the flask once more. As Ecthelion’s body tightened and arched with his fast approaching release, Sauron dumped the contents of the flask into his mouth before sealing his mouth over Ecthelion’s.

Screaming into the moist cavern that stole his breath away, Ecthelion swallowed convulsively as he climaxed, shaking in unprecedented pleasure as the most intense orgasm he had ever had washed over him in mind shattering waves. He gasped erratically for breath when his mouth was released after a bit then looked down in horror at his now flaccid member as it lay softened in Sauron’s hand, which was covered with his sticky release along with his leggings and stomach. What had just happened?!

Chuckling lowly, Sauron observed his captive’s expression before bringing his hand up and licking it clean. He shifted up and stepped back as he grinned, catching Ecthelion’s stupefied gaze as he finished his cleansing. “You are mine now, Ecthelion of the Fountain,” he murmured matter-of-factly once more, his dark eyes filling with mirth as the Elf Lord’s face darkened with rage.

“I will never be yours, you depraved malice!” Ecthelion roared as he wrenched at his shackles in an effort to attack his holder. His breath shuddered to a stop unexpectedly though as a well of fire seemed to rise up within him before sweeping over him in a flood of heat and agonizing pain. His head fell back as he trembled violently, a scream tearing from him uncontrollably as he was nearly drowned within the painful firestorm that now consumed him. Gasping for air as his chest heaved, Ecthelion fought the pain as he felt his body begin to change. He would not be beaten!

Sauron watched in respectful amazement as he observed the struggle that Ecthelion went through while fighting the effects of the potion. He smirked though as he saw the claws that began to form on the slender fingers, followed by dark fur while the limbs contorted in an effort to change to another form. But a roar of agony and defiance shocked him as Ecthelion shook his head and, with tremendous effort and will, stopped his transformation, forcing himself to return to normal. He stared at Ecthelion as the Elf collapsed in his bonds, shaking and wheezing with his efforts as he glared at Sauron in rebellion. “I...will...never...serve...you...” he managed as he worked to take in air while calming his spirit and body from the pain that still threatened to well up within him.

“I am most impressed, Lord Elf. It is indeed a good reason that your people were always so resistant to my Master’s work,” Sauron whispered before sneering. “But you forget that you are not the only one with will power. I *will* break you and soon, you will be my means to revenge upon your people,” he added quietly, coldly.

Straightening slowly, Ecthelion tossed his head gracefully before returning his gaze to Sauron. “You will try and fail,” he whispered boldly. He frowned as Sauron merely smirked at him before leaving the dungeon, the door clicking shut in a haunting sound of closure that made him feel hollow. Once alone though, Ecthelion bowed his head and sagged in his bonds wearily, heavy with sorrow and fatigue. A single tear rolled down his face as he gave into his fatigue and fell into reverie. He knew his suffering had only just begun.

TBC

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