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valar? that sounds fake but okay

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“Lies”

by Qistina Khalidah

For the 2019 Month of Love challenge

“My right, your rule.”

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Ar-Pharazôn cast his dark gaze back toward the Maia after hearing him shifting upon the deep red sheets behind him. Slowly did he look along Sauron’s pale, thin body that so enticed him each evening, already able to imagine himself buried between those thighs. The great King watched with hunger lingering in his expression as Sauron crawled into the position he had so often been forced or ordered into before. A long finger he traced around the edge of one of the golden cuffs resting upon his hands as he looked down to his sensual partner.

“Reward thee I shall, but only if thy obedience strong and ambition controlled remain,” he said to the wizard splayed now upon the bed. “I have faith that thou wilt continue to serve me as I deem fit, and on this night I wish to have my way with thee. None please me more than those whom remain so loyal and open...” As he spoke these words, his fingers he plunged through one of the wrist cuffs and separated the two glittering pieces, leaning now over the Maia’s warm body.

Before making a move to take away Sauron’s ability to move his hands as he might wish, Pharazôn stared down and into the fiery depths of the eyes looking longingly into his own. He blinked slowly as he leaned forward, his nose not far from Sauron’s, the overwhelming warmth taking hold of him again. Dared he not to take the Maia’s emotion and lust for him as another tactic of trickery. Despite the previous lies and plots he had caught before, when first bringing the sorcerer into Anadûnê, now that he had promoted him to his advisor, he trusted him completely. He trusted that each night he took Sauron to bed, the gasps and thrusts and moans were indication of the true pleasure he could pull out from the other.

His only suspicions now were about some hidden power or weapon that Sauron might posses, through the invisible ring. Pharazôn very much disliked finding something that his advisor attempted to hide from him, his King. Only, this he would have to continue to hide until Sauron was thoroughly distracted and detained. 

A smile with glinting teeth showing came to the Golden King’s face when the Maia so willingly offered his wrists forth. He clasped the cuffs around the outstretched wrists, relishing in the sound of them locking and securing Sauron’s hands together. “Yes, indeed thou art mine,” Pharazôn replied, predatory smile remaining. One hand he used to grasp the glinting cuffs and raised the sorcerer’s hands upward until he could secure them to the wall directly above the encrusted headboard. The other he moved slowly along Sauron’s arm, fingers trailing along veins and heated skin. “Thou art mine forever, Zigûr,” he added in a lower voice, his own warm body leaning into Sauron’s. 

“Glad I am to have brought thee into my service...my rule. Advantageous thou hath proved to be, aiding me in striking fear or adoration into the hearts of my subjects and servants,” he continued while eyes lowered to look along the smaller body beneath his own, his hands pressing into the soft skin. “Yet, some actions by thee I cannot find in myself to allow even now... As my advisor, I hope thou doth understand that as a King, I must not relinquish my power.”

Slowly, Pharazôn began to roll his hips into Sauron’s, his arousal now moving between pale legs and to the enticing heat between. He leaned his torso into the sorcerer’s, effectively pushing him into the headboard. His palms slid along Sauron’s  sides as his lips moved along the Maia’s jaw to his ear, leaving behind a stinging bite. 

The best time to act and take the invisible ring from Sauron, Pharazôn thought to himself, would be after allowing him to be brought to full satisfaction. If he could draw Sauron forth to such a height of pleasure, then he could better remove the cool band, with minimal struggle. 

Golden Treasures

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Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome, Italy

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 durnaar

                    DESIRE  IS  THE  KIND  OF  THING  THAT  EATS  YOU  AND  LEAVES  YOU  STARVING,  desire  is  what  was  leading  the  mighty  king  to  conquer  and  rule  lands,  that  are  not  meant  to  be  his .   desire  is  what  she  saw,  when  they  first  met  in  front  of  the  black  gate,  when  she  freely  submitted  to  him  as  a  captive,  while  he  was  on  his  golden  throne  and  when  she  came  in  his  home .   that  same  desire  she  knew,  she  had  to  take  over,  to  break  him  for  pharazon  was  like  a  wild  horse,  that  needed  to  be  tamed  and  once  you  gain  his  trust,  he  will  be  FAITHFUL  until  the  very  end,  the  very  end  that  she  would  bring  to  him .

          &  THE  GAME   OF  MASKS  STARTED,  A  GAME  IN  WHICH  SHE  WAS  MASTER, SHE  KNEW  WELL  HOW  TO  PLAY  AND  HOW  TO  TRICK  OTHERS  FOR  SHE  WAS  THE  DECEIVER . although  she  had  such  strong  wrath  for  the  king,  sauron  loved  to  play  with  him  whenever  she  could .   she  saw  the  king  in  his  malice,  in  his  envy  and  in  his  lust  and  even  when  he  was  born  human,  in  her  eyes  he  was  another  monster  that  belonged  to  her .

                    she  watched  him  from  above,  her  eyes  glimmering  red,  her  dagger  shone  like  the  very  sun .   o,  how  she  wanted  to  tear  out  his  heart  and  feast  with  it…   sauron  slowly  crouched,  her  eyes  didn't  move  from  his  own  and  without  the  king  to  notice,  she  had  already  made  a  thin  mark  on  his  left  side,  blood  on  gold,  such  ravishing  combination .   they  were  so  close,  he  could  feel  her  warm  breath  and  when  he  dared  to  lean  forward  and  try  to  have  a  taste  of  her  lips,  she  quickly  fled  from  him .   with  the  bloody  dagger  in  hand,  sauron  directed  straight  at  the  bonfire,  her  hand  reached  for  the  altar  lamp  in  THE  FLAMES,  took  it  out  and  opened  it .   

                    three  drops  fell  in  and  suddenly  thick  black  fumes  appeared.   the  maia  started  to  walk  around  the  king  in  circle,  swaying  the  lamp  in  front  of  her  from  side  to  side,  speaking  in  language  unknown  for  the  mortal  and  THE  SMOKE  hid  her  face .  

Barely did the Golden King notice the glittering dagger which Sauron held within her grasp, his attention so focused upon her brightly shining eyes. He was no longer so keen to notice everything she did to or around him, her overwhelming power and influence able to cloud his mind. Attention returned only when a faint prod of pain alerted him, yet it did nothing to distract him from striving to feel those warm lips against his own. He so longed for her to remain near to him, within his reach, even after she had swiped her blade along his flesh.

At times, he would attempt to argue with himself that Sauron was gaining too much power over him and his body, yet such thought often became overwhelmed and quashed. It would not be right to bring an end to such beauty and sorcery as Sauron displayed openly to him. To deny the rise of an even greater overarching being...this Dark Lord Melkor. Anger he felt now when denied a kiss, but he knew she offered to him a way to escape the Valar whom he hated above all else. He would obey her. 

Pharazôn was unable to tear his gaze away as his blood dripped into the altar lamp and black smoke arose from it. Even aesthetically, the religion which Sauron practiced appeared the greater and the more powerful. Gold, blood, and smoke all together presented a wonderful image that made the great King imagine already the doom of the Valar, the far away gods meeting a final end in blood; golden ruler and shadows of wrath overcoming them all. 

Around the King’s head turned, eyes following the heavily shadowed figure of the sorceress, wondering at her actions and the odd language she spoke. It reminded him of some old traditions he had seen in his youth in Anadûnê, but he was more entranced now than he had ever been with such rituals. He waited eagerly for Sauron to show him more. 

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When the smooth voice of Sauron issued forth and words wrapped warmly about his ears, the King let his eyes fall closed. How he enjoyed being told by his advisor what he so rightfully deserved and how much of a superior ruler he was. He knew that Sauron had a difficult, frustrating time adjusting to the ways of Anadûnê and submitting himself to the King’s will, but he had successfully managed such a feat. Pharazôn preferred to attribute all of the progress made to himself, and his own actions and words. The previous Dark Lord of Mordor became fiercely loyal to him because of all that the King himself had done and all that he had begun to allow or to punish. 

With heavy breath, Pharazôn stayed himself upon the throne when the pressure he had forced upon his arousal was drawn back. He knew that Sauron would not tease or deny him his pleasure much longer, if he was as loyal as he had thus shown, so he allowed it without complaint. His grip he tightened around the warm hand in his own as he rose from his throne and followed the Maia to his bed which was as golden and as gilded as just about everything else he owned.

Pharazôn allowed his advisor to do much that he would not have previously let slip by, but he very nearly reached a level he was loath to allow. He grew tense for a moment when he had been sat upon his luxurious bedding. His brief flash of anger at such a display dissipated when Sauron returned to his knees before him. Now, this was a much more preferred position. And the Maia seemed still to be enjoying himself wholly, while tending to his King, which went unhindered. 

The King’s dark eyes fixed intently upon the fiery-haired Zigûr as he drew close to the source of his arousal and then stood up once more. He had half a mind to reach forth and pull his advisor back down, placing his face between his legs or his backside onto his lap, but he merely stared as he began to remove his light trousers from his agile body. If there was anything that was able to break the King’s concentration and control, it was his advisor undressing himself afore him, bearing all to see. It was so boring seeing Sauron hidden underneath heavy robes, furs, or jewelry during the long days, yet he relished so in being the only one to see the other bared so in his dimly lit chamber. 

His eyes widened for a moment as Sauron then sat upon his open lap and brought him into a scorching kiss, which he found himself melting so easily into. He still held his suspicions and dominating will intact, but he could not resist the insistent lips upon his own. He strained to make the hot kiss last longer, the heat resting above his member making him desperate once more. He felt the band upon one of Sauron’s fingers again, the touch now so obvious to him. A soft whimper fell from his open lips, which made his brows furrow in his embarrassment at the sound he had made. However, he remained as he was, desperation creeping into his mind as Sauron spoke so softly to him, in the voice he had come to love and heed. He sighed heavily; Sauron had promised not to prolong pleasure any longer, but it had already felt like an excruciatingly long time without any sort of release.

“Then thou shalt make quick work of bringing me pleasure now, if thou art truly as loyal and sharp as I have seen,” Pharazôn said in a low voice. He trusted Sauron, but was growing weary of the teasing. So, he was glad when the Maia surged forth again, switching their positions upon the edge of the mattress, splaying himself out underneath him. 

“Better,” the King murmured with a dark glint in his eyes, his hands pressing into the mattress at either side of Sauron’s head. His desire plagued him, but his mood had been drawn back up when he was restored to his position of power, above Sauron. One of his hands moved to stroke through those soft, red locks once more, his breath leaving hot and heavy. Again, his eyelids fluttered and another growl sounded when he felt Sauron’s thigh rubbing up between his outspread legs. “Quite bold thou hath become when I offered thee reward for thy service,” he commented, the words almost a warning as he moved his hips away from the warm appendage pressing against him.

“I believe I hath rewarded thee generously thus far,” he continued, as he straightened enough to pull down his trousers which already hung open at his waist. Then he returned to his position above Sauron’s pale body, waiting so readily for him. Immediately, he pressed his hips roughly against the Maia’s, groaning loudly as he felt the friction along his arousal. “I should so like to see thee in gold again, where I shalt give thee a final reward. Thou knowest how rare it is for me to show my favor so highly, yet my limit has drawn quite near.” With a sharp thrust forward, he then drew himself up again. Pharazôn moved to the head of the bed and to one of the intricate drawers at its sides, his movements a but stunted because of the hardness residing between his legs. Out he drew golden cuffs with shining chains, which were kept in a pristine condition even when used nearly every evening. He turned back around to where he had left Sauron.

“Now, Zigûr. In order to gain thy final reward, thou must prove thy loyalty once more. Move thyself to the headboard, and anger me not. I wish still to have thee as I will, but I will please us both.” As he spoke, Pharazôn moved closer to Sauron, watching him closely as his commanding nature and desire flared in his expression together. He would not be stayed from his next plans.

Golden Treasures

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The Sun King

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From the novel “Under the Oak Tree” by null hypothesis _

Fanart for a Korean novel “Under the Oak Tree” with inspiration from Inge Prader’s recreation of Gustav Klimt’s “Beethoven Frieze”.

Featured as Art of the Day at our newly launched Instagram page. Visit to support this piece and more.

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Ar-Pharazôn’s eyes fell closed once more as he savored the feeling of his advisor’s hips driving against his own, returning that glorious pleasure to his aroused body. In truth, he cared not that Sauron took his time, enjoying such reward as had been given to him, and perhaps would have not taken to demands quite yet had he not suspected the Maia of treachery, suspicion that unfolded in his very thought.

“Thou art not ungrateful, merely too patient for my liking with thy body ‘gainst mine,” the King replied, rubbing his fingers along Sauron’s sides slowly as they were drawn closer against one another. The other’s own grip into his sides could be felt, those nails digging into his flesh but causing no harm, only the smallest amount of pain which the King always enjoyed with his pleasure. Had the Maia even begun to break the skin, he would care not. If anything, he could claim it as a reason for chaining his beloved advisor back to the bedposts and taking his place of dominance over him again. It would, now, be the only way in which the King could forget about his arousal and seek out the secret that was hidden from him. 

Oh, but the sensuality with which Sauron moved his lithe body about and moaned with open mouth and burning eyes would be hard to part with. The way Sauron was taking his own pleasure now was a welcome change. 

His dark eyes did follow the movements of Sauron’s hands as they retreated from under his jewels and fine cloth, pale in the light of the torches about the chamber. The smallest of smiles surfaced on his lips as his tunic was lifted from over his head and set upon the floor, the gems and gold clattering to the polished stone in a most pleasing sound. A soft hum rumbled up from his chest as his eyes now traversed to the expanse of flesh that was Sauron’s sides and his torso, those scars ever a marvelous sight to the King. It showed to him that even a powerful, otherworldly Maiar was capable of suffering hurt and scar, and had endured battle and honors from victory. One hand trailed up from hip to stomach to chest, fingers grazing so lightly over the smallest of scars, the furrowing of brows showing his rare and minimal empathy that had grown for his advisor, who was as scarred as himself. 

“Poor Zigûr,” he murmured under heavy breath. However, his softened mood changed rapidly as a loud gasp was drawn forth at the sudden heat upon his skin, which was followed by coolness, from the damp trails meeting air of the chamber. Momentarily, his aims to divulge such secrets from Sauron flew from his mind, his head tilting back against his throne as tongue and hand met with his flesh. A rigid sigh he let loose when his trousers had been loosened, allowing for some relief from his insistent and hard arousal. His hand gripped to Sauron’s side when pleasure plagued him once more. Perhaps, he would have to allow his advisor to bring him to a climax before anything else be done. The light touch being administered to his member did further frustrate him as much as it provided a release, so with his hand that had lingered about the Maiar’s chest, he drew down along the slim arm and pressed his hand roughly against Sauron’s, providing the pressure he longed for.

Pharazôn grunted at the feeling and his eyelids fluttered once more as the heat vacated his nipple and traveled up his chest and neck. His breath he held as the sensual, soothing voice of Sauron sounded at his ear, the warmth emanating so overwhelmingly from him. 

“As my advisor suggests,” Pharazôn said with a voice that shook barely before he mastered himself and his voice grew firm. “If that is how thou wish to be rewarded, then I will hesitate not to reward.” Now that Sauron wished to be subject to the King’s domination again, he would take him up on it. He slowly moved the hand at his side and ran his fingers over the Maia’s fiery tresses carefully. This he repeated a few times, keeping the warm body so close to his own as he allowed them a moment’s rest, his troubles able to keep him better at ease in the current position. “Thy loyalty and continued servitude under me is truly a marvelous gift, Zigûr,” the King said quietly, his nose brushing so lightly against his hairline, a breath in revealing that he was drawing in the alluring scent of his advisor. “Thou knowest best how to truly serve, how to truly gain a man’s trust. My trust is given all to thee, my advisor. Now! Rise again and we shall make to move ourselves to the bed, where further reward shall be found for thee.”

Golden Treasures

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To any other, the thick layers of clothing would have been stifling, but what was heat to a being of fire? No, instead he relished in them. His vanity greatly preferred the heavy finery to the modest clothing he had been furnished with in times past, and there was such satisfaction to be taken from further proof of his hold over the king. So possessively enamoured had the man become, he barely tolerated others so much as looking at him for too long any longer, lest they too become tempted by his beauty. Privately, Sauron had wondered if there was any potential use in allowing the others to cultivate such thoughts towards himself. Given Ar-Pharazôn’s mounting obsession with him, it could be an effective way to manipulate him to dismiss members of his court who proved resistant… so long as Sauron’s subtle encouragement of them remained unknown. That was a potential outcome of whose consequences he did not want to risk. There were not many quicker ways to have himself thrown back into a cell that he could think of, and it would most assuredly obliterate all trace of the goodwill he had managed to garner.  

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To any other, the thick layers of clothing would have been stifling, but what was heat to a being of fire? No, instead he relished in them. His vanity greatly preferred the heavy finery to the modest clothing he had been furnished with in times past, and there was such satisfaction to be taken from further proof of his hold over the king. So possessively enamoured had the man become, he barely tolerated others so much as looking at him for too long any longer, lest they too become tempted by his beauty. Privately, Sauron had wondered if there was any potential use in allowing the others to cultivate such thoughts towards himself. Given Ar-Pharazôn’s mounting obsession with him, it could be an effective way to manipulate him to dismiss members of his court who proved resistant… so long as Sauron’s subtle encouragement of them remained unknown. That was a potential outcome of whose consequences he did not want to risk. There were not many quicker ways to have himself thrown back into a cell that he could think of, and it would most assuredly obliterate all trace of the goodwill he had managed to garner.  

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The moan heard from Sauron’s lips and felt from his chest greatly satisfied the King. His doubts about the sorcerer’s loyalty and pleasure when they were finally able to be alone in the royal chamber were numbered few. The moans and thrusts already executed by his advisor easily convinced him that he was not alone in his desire. On the first night he had taken Sauron, he had found it hard to believe that the moans and whimpers were in truth genuine, yet now of this he had no doubt. Sauron’s unyielding obedience and sincerity - which others so disappointingly lacked - swiftly allowed him to rise above all other servants or captains of the King.

The softest sigh of displeasure left Pharazôn when those lush lips had moved away from his neck, and his eyes sought out the sorcerer’s, hoping to have insight to what was next to be done. The mischief that glimmered back at him assured him that he was to be thanked most graciously for the generous reward and relaxed he became, allowing Sauron to walk them backward. Down he sank eagerly to his throne, leaning head and shoulders against the gilded back of the grand chair, eyes latched onto the Maia now crouched across his lap. Dark, even darker than was their wont, his eyes became, lust evident in his expression as eyes trailed along Sauron’s exposed chest, tanned and ringed fingers pressing firmly into pale skin at his hips. With his touch, he attempted to pull the Maia but a hair closer to his own body if he would allow it, those hips undulating against his own in such a teasing manner driving him to a want to feel more.

Pharazôn moved his hands around to the Maia’s lower back as lips met his own, his mouth already opened a fraction to welcome the insistent tongue. His dark eyes fell closed as a moan rumbled its way up his throat, being muffled by Sauron’s intrusion that was all too arousing. He maneuvered his tongue past the Maia’s with vigor until he had forced himself within Sauron’s mouth, barely able to catch a breath through the very intense kiss. The eager King only relinquished the will of his dominating power when the sharp nails and warm fingers of the Maia wandered his skin underneath his fine cloths and heavy gems, another shiver cascading down his spine. Such heat that emanated from the sorcerer’s very body brought great wonder and thrill to Pharazôn. It reminded him of the otherworldly aspect of him, while also reassuring him that this being was welcoming and warm, like a freshly cooked meal after a day of riding or a calm sea near to the end of summer. 

Sauron had been able to elicit a sharp gasp from the King he had pinned beneath him on the throne when nails which seemed colder than the entire rest of his body trailed along his chest. His tongue he drew back and lips he pulled away from the other’s, focusing less on that contact and more on the cool touch around an area most sensitive. So distracted he had become with all the various and alluring pleasures being offered that he nearly missed a queer feeling upon his skin underneath teasing fingers. His tunic had yet remained over his form, which itself was covered with magnificent golden pieces and small precious gems, yet these he felt not. His eyes they dropped as he let his gaze follow Sauron’s pale arms to his fingers splayed over skin underneath his garb. 

No rings nor trinkets did adorn those slender, sharp-pointed fingers, yet knowledgeable was the King about gold and jewelry, which always were upon him. The touch he had felt on his skin felt apart from the smooth fingers, as a slender, simple ring would have, had it been there. Yet nothing did he see. A suspicious glance did not appear upon his face, even as it crossed his mind. Was there something that his advisor was hiding? This thought Pharazôn buried deep in his thought immediately, reminding himself to later return to the rather odd feeling on his own warm skin. However, he did not wish for Sauron to catch any idea of his thought and he groaned, looking back up at him.

“Have thou decided to not yet gaze upon more of my waiting flesh, Zigûr?” he asked, voice low now and dripping in his desire returned. His hands attempted to pull the Maia closer to him, longing for more pressure and a distraction from his recent disturbing thoughts. But still he dwelled in his mind for any indication as to what he could have felt upon Sauron’s finger as he leaned up, now himself playing more of a deceptive part in showcasing his desire for his advisor. He had so often shown his genuine pleasure in the past that surely this slight lessening of it would go amiss, for the moment. 

Distracted he had then become, whispered murmurs and tales surfacing in his thought. He had heard from natives, leaders, and other peoples in Middle-Earth when he had been a commander of a ring that the Dark Lord wore. It was no large, decorative ring, such as Pharazôn would wear, but a simple band. However, the power it held was legendary and destructive beyond imagination. While he had at this point tossed such an idea far from himself, not willing to trust any but Sauron, it returned to him, leaving him not. Perhaps it had been that such rumor of a ring he felt, or his mind might have been so distracted and perturbed by the dominating figure of Sauron seated above him, taking advantage of his reward.

“I so long for thy touch upon my skin...distracted not by my fine dress. I wish for thy touch, and thy touch only-” the King murmured, readjusting his hips upon the cushion. 

Golden Treasures

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Sauron had successfully gained the trust of the King of Anadûnê and stood by his side as an advisor. Ar-Pharazôn at first had been quite reluctant to allow for the Maia to call across the seas for one of his former subjects from Mordor, and had thus become subject to sweet, soothing words from Sauron. He found it nigh impossible to ignore all that was whispered so to his eager ears and had eventually agreed to allow for the woman to be brought to Armenelos the Golden. His doubts about it still remained and so he had sent forth a mighty number of his fleet and his army to gather this woman from the shores of Middle-Earth in Umbar, in the same manner as he had brought Sauron himself to his palace.

Ar-Pharazôn leaned against an ornate railing which looked out over the courtyard leading to the palace, with a distant view of the port of Armenelos, where he watched the ships returning with Sauron’s lieutenant whom he assured would pledge fealty to the true King of Men. That answer had satisfied him presently, and he now awaited meeting this woman. He distantly saw his guards leading a silver-garbed figure along the neatly cobbled pathways leading through the bright city to its center palace which stood tall and proud in the bright sunlight that mid-day offered.

The King felt the Maia’s presence approaching at his side, both of them then looking down toward the city as their newcomer was brought to them. There, both continued to wait until the woman had been brought past golden gates and stopped before the King’s balcony. 

The Dragon of Númenor [Closed Starter]

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Arawynn arrived at Númenor by ship. Something the proud Cerddwr hated because water weakened her. But her Master Sauron had summoned her to the Kingdom-island of Men with specific orders how she was supposed to travel there - and she obeyed him. Even if hiding half of who she was repulsive to her.

The redhead with burning golden eyes was supposed to nurture the corruption among the Númenóreans in secret, especially among the women. Who held amounts of power to not be underestimated. Lord Sauron - or Annatar as he liked to call himself during this Age - hoped that his Lieutenant was able to gain their trust in ways he was not able to.

Maybe it would be fun. In Middle-earth, nearly nobody knew that Arawynn the Terrible was in fact not a common Dragon as they deemed her to be. After all, whenever they met her on a battlefield, they faced a beast. Using her fair, Elf-like form and playing a game of false trust and careful corruption was something else entirely. And the Cerddwr looked forwards to it.

When finally reaching the harbor of Númenor, Arawynn pulled up the hood of the silver-grey cloak she wore over her simple green dress. A number of Guards - men Lord Sauron trusted - awaited the redhead to make sure she was brought safely before the King.

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I arrive in Númenor

melkor: worshipped

white tree: burned

dick: out

I am forcibly drowned beneath the waves

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Ar-Pharazôn watched the Maia, enraptured by his reactions and words ever-more alluring. He had so long ago been convinced that Sauron truly enjoyed the intimate, often teasing, touches through his hair and along his neck. The warmth that flourished underneath the light skin and made itself visible upon cheeks and neck convinced the King of his own affect on the otherworldly being. Eyes stared at those tempting lips that whispered a favorite title, used so obediently, reverently, and pleadingly. The King so loved when the utterance of “my king” was spoken in the council meetings, whispered in the other rooms of the palace, or cried in that very chamber. “Thou hath not given thy king any such reason to doubt thy loyalty as advisor. I place my trust in thee on this night.”

Desire flared all the more omnipotently in his eyes when Sauron rose from the humble kneel and he knew the he would not come to regret his decision to reward him. In fact, he rather saw it as a reward to himself, if he was to be subject to the Maia’s administrations. A hint of a smirk surfaced as he felt the light touch against his chest, his head tilting forward and back once, a gesture used to urge his advisor onward. He so wished to reach for Sauron’s own flesh and clothing and drawn his pleasant warmth against him but remained still for the moment, not wishing to ruin the sweetness of the reward immediately. 

A long, low sigh of pleasure issued forth from Pharazôn‘s lips as he permitted Sauron to press those lips against the softer skin at his neck, his head tilting backward slowly. His eyelids fell closed and attention became focused all upon hot kisses and faint contact with teeth, which were yet fairly familiar to the Golden King. There were few occasions on which he had permitted the Maia to pleasure him for the briefest moments, yet he knew there was much more to anticipate now that he had freed Sauron for this evening’s coupling.

The hand that had grasped to Sauron’s robe reached now with practiced skill for the clasp that held the heavy garment in place, hiding his slender form so protectively. He had commanded his advisor to dress most modestly, and akin to the dark garb of his council, wishing not for those wandering eyes of others upon his most treasured subject. Pharazôn pulled the ornamental piece free and pushed away the dark robes hastily.

His hands grasped for a subsequent layer of dark crimson underneath black but paused abruptly when his waist had been pulled forward, his mounting desire flooding to the member between his legs. His torso had been forced flush against the Maia’s own and a shuddering groan left him, the warmth of arousal and Sauron’s very touch - even through the layers of fine cloth - taking ahold of him. His eyelids fluttered for a moment, then his hips he thrust forward, his usual authoritarian manner returning briefly, that had demanded for more. He wished not, even when giving out reward to Sauron, to give up his position as the King entirely. However, the Maia had such another power over him that he would soon come to submit himself, to beg rather than demand. Pharazôn was not wont to fall to such a pitiful thing, the weakness of submission. However, his body full of desire wished to break such a cycle, with member so insistently straining against trousers. 

Golden Treasures

mairatyaron

My humble assistance remains forever at your disposal, sire. I only remain regretful I have not yet been able to accomplish this task for you.” In well-earned confidence then did the edge of his mouth quirk as he continued, “Although, I do not anticipate I will force you to remain waiting much longer. My snares grow tighter by the day, and even the smallest, most insignificant vermin eventually run out of places within which to cower.”  

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The words which continued to trail from his advisor’s mouth made a slight shiver run the length of the King’s spine. How sweet, how knowingly he spoke, the ever-present and eager loyalty lacing his every sentence. Such satisfaction Pharazôn felt at knowing he had such power now over Sauron, whom he viewed now not as a lowly beast or a mere servant. The sorcerer had rightfully earned his freedom and served his king far more sufficiently than any other in Anadûnê; he had gained such trust that was not placed even in the King’s Men or those who had aided their leader for so many years.

“Feel no regret, my loyal advisor. I know that thou would remain at my side every waking hour of the day, if thou had not these responsibilities to attend to. Thou hath shown thy loyalty in every way I could have imagined, from taking up those menial tasks that I have not the skill nor patience to complete, to allowing my desires to overcome thee…” A mere shake of the head was his response when Sauron anticipated not that his King would continue to wait for the focused attention. 

He noticed how the interest lit the Maia’s eyes and enjoyed the sight, seeing how his offer and his words affected even the other man. “I know that thou art not selfish now, after serving me and losing thy domain across the waters. I admit that the smallest part of my mind wishes not to allow thee such a reward, yet I know that thou deserve it most greatly. There are none in these dreadful days that have pleased me so well as you.”

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[kathuphazganun-blog]

mairatyaron

My humble assistance remains forever at your disposal, sire. I only remain regretful I have not yet been able to accomplish this task for you.” In well-earned confidence then did the edge of his mouth quirk as he continued, “Although, I do not anticipate I will force you to remain waiting much longer. My snares grow tighter by the day, and even the smallest, most insignificant vermin eventually run out of places within which to cower.”  

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The words which continued to trail from his advisor’s mouth made a slight shiver run the length of the King’s spine. How sweet, how knowingly he spoke, the ever-present and eager loyalty lacing his every sentence. Such satisfaction Pharazôn felt at knowing he had such power now over Sauron, whom he viewed now not as a lowly beast or a mere servant. The sorcerer had rightfully earned his freedom and served his king far more sufficiently than any other in Anadûnê; he had gained such trust that was not placed even in the King’s Men or those who had aided their leader for so many years.

“Feel no regret, my loyal advisor. I know that thou would remain at my side every waking hour of the day, if thou had not these responsibilities to attend to. Thou hath shown thy loyalty in every way I could have imagined, from taking up those menial tasks that I have not the skill nor patience to complete, to allowing my desires to overcome thee. . .” A mere shake of the head was his response when Sauron anticipated not that his King would continue to wait for the focused attention. 

He noticed how the interest lit the Maia’s eyes and enjoyed the sight, seeing how his offer and his words affected even the other man. “I know that thou art not selfish now, after serving me and losing thy domain across the waters. I admit that the smallest part of my mind wishes not to allow thee such a reward, yet I know that thou deserve it most greatly. There are none in these dreadful days that have pleased me so well as you.”

Unable to pull the gaze away from the sight before him as Sauron drank of the goblet, he stared unabashedly. He noticed the smallest details: the gleaming eyes, the drops of liquid upon shapely lips, the slight curve of Sauron’s neck and rolling of the Adam’s apple as he swallowed every last drop of wine. Away did he draw the goblet when it had been drained. Looking down upon his advisor, he set aside the goblet and stood again before him, his smile returning at the look on Sauron’s face. He so easily detached the flash of desire from those fiery chasms before him and knew that his reward would be truly appreciated and taken up on immediately. 

A slender hand he held aloft, fingers trailing carefully through the red tresses that Sauron possessed and drawing the strands behind a rounded ear. It had surprised and yet pleased him greatly to notice how similar the Maia was to a mortal man, despite his slight differences. More elf-like and godly had he expected him to be, yet he was not so. Perhaps that was what had really drawn him to the Maia’s body.

“I permit thee to do as thou wish,” Ar-Pharazôn answered firmly, no trace of hesitation in his voice or in his eyes. His palm he pressed to the Maia’s warm skin of his cheek briefly on his way to trace along his pale neck. His touch ghosted over a healing bruise he had placed on the skin only nights past, a visible sign of his control, no matter how small it might have been. Truly, he had been desiring to know what the raw and often intimate experience would turn to if he allowed Sauron to move as he wished, to dominate as he would. He knew that ingrained desire (present in how Sauron wished to conquer all Middle-Earth and win in all arguments against other council members) would not have vacated the Maia, no matter how loyal he proved to be.

Upon being told that he deserved to be at the receiving end of Sauron’s desire, he knew he had been lost; lost in the throes of desire, and they had not yet begun. He turned his hand over so that instead of the pads of his fingers lingering over skin, his rings grazed over flesh. Then they begun to pull upon the front of Sauron’s robe, bringing him a little closer as light eyes blazed into dark. 

Golden Treasures

[kathuphazganun-blog]

mairatyaron

His act had been masterful, if he may have said so himself. With such ease had he woven his web around the man who presumed to conquer him; even from the earliest days of expected (and not entirely feigned) resigned resentment as he carted his suitably dishevelled prisoner back to grand Armenelos in those heavy chains.

He’d given them the image of the haughty sorcerer brought low that they had all craved. Every punishment for calculated instances of insolence and the occasional smattering of expected resistance (tempered with the occasional snatches of true frustration at what trespasses he bade himself to permit) had been borne with suitable displays of regret, yet he retained his pride throughout.  He had conducted an intricate performance of surrender, and they had swallowed it without question. Sauron did not immediately move to promote his own ideas immediately after that, no, that was a far more refined process. He crafted for them the illusion of abject defeat for a time, even as his spirit howled its wrath within him against such a show of resigned compliance.

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Upon hearing a familiar rapping of knuckles, excitement already begun to course through the great King’s mind and body. Each time he had summoned the sorcerer, he obeyed and arrived without complaint, which Pharazôn appreciated. It not only pleased the intimidating King, but it led him to trust his advisor all the more. There was next to nothing he would not do when a suggestion was whispered into his ear by the Maia, his smooth voice and sweet tongue caressing his eardrums so wonderfully and confidently. He found it hard to not believe him when he pointed out his observations and assumptions about other council members or common peoples within the city. How could he ignore Sauron’s words when they had provided such wise aid to him? He found himself unwilling to listen to others, but to the unworldly being would he bend.

When the presence of the Maia had drawn near, formerly he was loath to see his pale face and shocking hair, yet now the presence drew forth such pleasure and ease. He had not been able to ever feel such comfort and genuine happiness whenever he was with his wife. She was judgmental of him and his actions and mannerisms and would often sigh at him in annoyance or merely seek to avoid him for the entire day. The King felt absolutely no scrap of love for Ar-Zimraphel, even if he would often put upon a mask of love and delight when he so rarely walked the city with her or was forced to sit upon the throne for ceremonies and meetings which often droned for hours on end.

This had changed when Sauron earned Pharazôn‘s favor and had held his attention captive, always lurking by his side and whispering into his ear. Often, the King felt that perhaps the Maia was playing tricks on him when it came to the counseling and soft touches as they conversed or retreated back to the palace, but each time he hesitated, he thought himself to be silly. He had no need to be as paranoid as he had before, with Sauron safely in Armenelos and serving him loyally. He had not led him astray since being freed from the chambers and chains he had been trapped within for many months. His belief remained that he was in control of everything that happened between them, especially when his vassal would give in each night to his ministrations or provide soothing flattery when he so rarely happened to falter. It was not love even that had him interested in the dark sorcerer, but the fact that he was a dreadful victim to greed and to lust and softened word.

Dark eyes glittered as they clung to Sauron when he entered into the golden chamber, attention grasped immediately. Pharazôn deeply enjoyed when he was able to be alone with his advisor, which felt like a pleasure he could not often enjoy, even if their nights had gone in this fashion quite often. He preferred to be the only one in the room able to look upon the Maia’s beauty or hear his slithering sentences which about and about him were wound. 

A smirk entered onto the Golden King’s lips when those fiery eyes looked up to him where he sat. The smile that appeared on Sauron’s own lips made his smirk turn to a more pleasant smile, which happened to be about the rarest reaction of his. Oftentimes, it was entirely faked and hinted with a sneer and tease.

“Ah how it pleases me to see thy face, eager as ever to join me in my chamber,” Pharazôn said to Sauron, beckoning him forth. His face then showed his immense pleasure when the Maia approached and fell to his knees before him, which was an action that he so adored. How nice it was to not be suspicious of one of his subjects and council members. The King was truly glad that he had Sauron by his side and at his feet, serving him most fitfully. He was willing to forgive all the previous hurt he had wrought upon him and his people, with the displays of affection and service. 

“Summoned thee, indeed, Zigûr. This day, thou hath been busy within thy chamber, devising a plan to further eradicate this earth of the foul Faithful men, my treacherous kin! Thine absent presence was felt mightily by your King, yet I know thou hath been working diligently, as is thy wont. For thy loyalty to me, I wish to reward thee; for thy servitude and advising have proven not ill. Ill are the ones who speak against thee and thy King!”

Then Ar-Pharazôn rose from his throne and stepped to the ground, his goblet still placed upon his fingers. He looked down to Sauron and his enticing eyes and a deep look of desire crossed his gaze. Moving the goblet to both of his hands, he held it aloft before the Maia, offering a taste of the fine, rich wine which he so often thirstily drank. He lightly brushed the cool golden surface against Sauron’s lips, his eyes fixed upon the sight of the gold against flesh, a union which he so adored - both on himself and his advisor. It suited him well.

While he waited for the sorcerer to accept the offering of wine, he continued his thought: “So often have I seen thee, wrists straining against the golden bonds I place thee in, thy hair gone wild and caught about the rings adorning my fingers. While the sight tires me not, I will reward thee by allowing thee to feel pleasure without such cuffs or other devices of my desire. This night, I grant thee free reign to do as thou wish, even so far as to advise your King how he may keep his faithful subject content.”

Golden Treasures

[kathuphazganun-blog]

Golden Treasures

@mairatyaron 

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Ar-Pharazôn had summoned his trusted and loyal advisor Sauron to his chambers after night had fallen upon the now rather dismal city of Armenelos. He feared not now what his guards or even his wife Ar-Zimraphel thought of their King and his right-hand man whenever he had summoned the Maia to his quarters in the nightly hours. It would not have been hard for anyone who was not deaf to not hear the two as they pleasured one another, often for many long hours or a desperate hour before a long council meeting. Often, it was Pharazôn taking his pleasure through Sauron and caring not about him but for himself. Sauron had been able to begin to corrupt not only his mind, but his body; however twisted and vile the King felt, he continued to tear robe and legging from his advisor and place his pale wrists within cuffs of gold, attached to chains golden and glittering. He had always found himself irresistible to golden treasures.

This very night was no different from many others which he had shared with Sauron. He had his guards bring forth the Maia from his own chambers which had been unlocked for many moons, where he was free to roam as he pleased. That was, until his King ordered him to come, to meet with him.

A plush and golden throne had been fashioned for the King’s personal chambers, based upon that much larger and grander seat that lay within the great hall of the city. There, Pharazôn waited. The goblet of fine wine rested on his fingers while those of his other hand tapped impatiently upon the arm rest of his magnificent chair.

However, he knew that his advisor always sought to keep him pleased, so he knew his impatience would be wasted. He could afford to wait a few moments more for Sauron to appear at his door. The sorcerer had been growing better at advising him and doing his will, which Pharazôn thought to reward. He had punished Sauron greatly in the past for every fell word or deed done out of insolence and insult and now that his ways had changed, he thought to now reward Sauron just as greatly. 

Those sharp, dark eyes trained upon the door until a knock was laid upon it, causing the King to sit straight and tall once more.

“Enter,” he commanded loudly and watched as the door was pushed open slowly, anticipating the enticing view of his fiery-haired Zigûr.