All His Evil Deeds by reindeer_pizza  

Eönwë stared down at his former lover, kneeling in the churned-up muck of a battlefield, head bowed in supplication. He was unarmored and unarmed, save for his sharp tongue. How different this Sauron looked from his lost Mairon. His downcast eyes that now burned with the fires of Angband had once been fair and golden. There had also been only two of them, the third that now split his brow nowhere to be seen. His teeth and claws bore more resemblance to the beasts he claimed mastery over than any of the children of Eru. Everywhere Eönwë looked, he could see how the corruption of Morgoth had tainted the one he had loved so long ago.

“I don’t understand,”  Eönwë said.

A strangled half-laugh forced itself from Sauron’s throat. “There are many things you do not understand,” he spat. “But surely even this is not beyond you. My Vala is gone, far beyond where I can reach. I have nothing left.” He looked up at Eönwë. “What would you do if Manwë was destroyed, and you were not?”

“A maia’s purpose is to serve,” Eönwë said in agreement. “But why did you serve him? Aulë was good to you. Why turn from him? Why do all of this?” He indicated the ruined landscape around them.

“We return to things you do not understand,” Sauron hissed. He shook himself, seemed to remember he was pleading for pardon, and softened. “He promised me a freedom and power that Aulë could never match.”

“There was a cost for that power,” Eönwë said. “You are stained red with the oceans of innocent blood you have spilled.”

“I will not deny raising my sword to the Children,” Sauron said. “But I must ask, where was their shield? Clearly,” his eyes flickered towards the utter destruction caused by the war, “you could have stopped us at any time. If I am so stained, it is because I was allowed to bleed them.”

“Manwë forbade any of us from interfering,” Eönwë snarled.

Sauron held up his empty hands. “And it is a maia’s purpose to obey. Even when they serve a cruel master.”

Eönwë’s sword was in his hand and the tip to Sauron’s throat before Eönwë could think. Staring at the naked blade, Sauron smiled. The first smile of his Eönwë had seen since he had left to follow Morgoth.

“I think, at last, you are approaching understanding.”

He couldn’t listen to another venomous word. Eönwë reared back, and swung with the hilt of his sword. The pommel slammed into Sauron’s temple with a loud crack! He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

~*~

Though he was stripped of all finery, clad only in a simple shift, though he was bound hand and foot in the prototypes of the chains that now held his master, though he was there to stand trial as all his evil deeds were laid bare, Sauron held himself with the grace and dignity of the highest of kings. Though his eyes burned, his gaze was cool as he looked around at the assembled Valar and their attendant maiar. He spoke no word in his own defence, did not flinch as Eönwë laid cruelty after cruelty at his feet. If anything, Eönwë thought to himself, he looked bored with the proceedings.

Manwë, too, listened silently as Eönwë read out the charges. Only when Eönwë stopped and rolled up the lengthy scroll did the Elder King lean forward and address their captive.

“You have heard what you stand accused of,” Manwë said. “How do you respond? You were not always a creature of Darkness. Were you forced? Tricked? There is still a chance for you to atone and return to the Light.”

Sauron’s eyes shifted from Manwë to Eönwë. “You forgot a few. If I’m to account for all my misdeeds, shouldn’t you list all of them? Shouldn’t you lay bare the true depths of my depravity? Or are the eyes of Eru’s pet blinder than I was led to believe?”

“Let us end this farce,” Tulkas growled. “He clearly doesn’t care about the lives he’s ruined and this discord he’s sown. Throw him to the Void like his master and be done with it!”

Icy fear clutched at Eönwë’s heart. If Manwë was right (and how could his lord be wrong?) then there was still a chance, however small, to save Mairon. A chance that would be lost if he was tossed away.

“Wait!” he said.

Every eye turned towards him. He hadn’t meant to speak out of turn, but it was too late to take the word back spoken in haste. 

“My lords and ladies,” Eönwë said with a bow. “I will not deny the evil done by Sauron. I believe every word I read to be true, that he did indeed perform these vile actions. However, it is a maia’s duty to serve their Vala. If he is cast into the Void where even now his Vala lies in wait, would we not be handing the keys to freedom to an enemy we just spent countless lives to subdue?”

A shiver passed through the circled Valar. None of them wanted Morgoth to return, though they all knew he would some day.

“A fair point,” Tulkas admitted. “But he cannot be permitted to walk free.”

The eyes pinning Eönwë down shifted over to Mandos. 

“His fate does not lie in my Halls,” Mandos said. “And I fear what his presence would do to those in my charge. The Feanorions are causing enough chaos as it is.”

Manwë held up a hand to subdue Tulkas’s response. “If not within your Halls or beyond the Doors of Night, where does his fate lie? I understand you are bound and there are things you cannot speak of, but please, share what you can.”

Mandos glanced at Vairë beside him and steepled his hands. “Fate is not a straight line, set down before the beginning and forcing us all to march to its tune. Think of fate more as spinning wool into thread. Our potential is the roving, and our actions turn it into thread. A different twist of fate, a few more fibers, and you get a different thread. Some of the actions that determine our fate come from within, but not all. This maia’s ultimate fate has already been changed by the actions of another.” Mandos turned back to Eönwë.

“Me, my lord?” Eönwë asked.

Mandos nodded. “The strongest fibers, to continue the metaphor, were leading to a fate where he escaped and continued to menace the lands beyond the sea. But you changed the twist, so to speak, and here we are.”

“I see,” Manwë said. “I thank you for your counsel. As it is my maia that changed his fate, it seems only prudent that he be held in my halls. The maia formerly known as Mairon, now known as Sauron, will be in my custody. Eönwë.”

Eönwë straightened at his lord’s address. “My lord?”

“As your fates appear to be bound together,” Manwë’s eyes flickered over to Mandos, who said nothing to either confirm or deny the assertion. “He will be placed into your personal charge.”

Eönwë bowed. “I hear and obey, my lord.”

~*~

It would be a stretch to call the place where Sauron was held a ‘dungeon’, but Eönwë could think of no better word. A white spire rose into the air, and at its tip was a flattened space, open to the skies above. Golden runes were carved around the edge of the platform. They corresponded to runes on the delicate golden chains that criss-crossed Sauron’s body. These chains bound Sauron’s fëa to his hröa, keeping him from shapeshifting or using any of his dark arts. They also kept him locked to this airy prison, preventing him from leaping to his doom.

Every day Eönwë would fly up to the prison. Every day he would speak at Sauron, telling him to renounce his ways and return to the Light. Sometimes Sauron would respond, would twist Eönwë’s words and leave his head reeling. Sometimes Sauron would ignore him, not even bothering to look at him as Eönwë begged his Mairon to return to him. And sometimes Sauron would sit quietly and watch Eönwë, keeping his true thoughts hidden behind those burning eyes.

Today when Eönwë arrived, he thought it would be the second sort of day. Sauron was laying on his back, head pillowed on his crossed arms, eyes closed.

Undeterred, Eönwë started on his daily sermon. Sauron stretched and rolled onto his side. The movements caused his simple tunic to shift and rise, exposing the naked flesh of his creamy thighs. 

Eönwë’s voice faltered.

“You know, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Sauron said in the sudden silence.

“About?” Eönwë asked, blinking as he tore his eyes away from Sauron’s skin.

Sauron didn’t appear to notice Eönwë’s glance and continued. “The past. How things were. Hard not to reminisce, stuck in a place like this.”

“And have you come to any conclusions?” Eönwë asked.

Sauron sat up and rolled his shoulders. “It wasn’t all bad here, you know. There were things I enjoyed, places I missed.” He looked up at Eönwë through his eyelashes. “People I regret leaving behind.”

“Me?”

Sauron smiled. “Is that such a surprise? We spent so much time together, learning together. You were dear to me. Of course I missed you.”

“Not enough to return,” Eönwë said, bitterness creeping into his voice.

Sauron’s smile faded. “Do you think he would have let me go? Yet, despite everything, all that has come to pass, I find myself returning to those memories of a more innocent time.” The smile returned with a mischievous edge. “I’m particularly fond of the memories of us discovering all a physical body can do.”

Eönwë turned scarlet. He too remembered their early experiments with physical forms, and how they could be joined together. Ainur were no strangers to couplings or intimacy, but the mingling of pure fëa was very different to sex with a hröa. The sensations were more vivid in some ways, and more muted in others. It also took a greater amount of control. Both of them had destroyed several bodies when their physical forms could not contain their pleasure. As they experimented, they came to know each other even better, and could handle more and more sensations.

Lost in his memories and embarrassment, Eönwë  didn’t notice Sauron’s approach until he felt a hand upon his cheek. 

“I’ve been so alone,” Sauron whispered before pressing their lips together.

There was a voice in Eönwë’s mind screaming at him that this was a bad idea, that Sauron was manipulating him, that fraternizing with a prisoner would only end in tears. That voice was very small and far away as he held Sauron in his arms. There were differences from his Mairon, but they seemed so superficial now. The breadth of his shoulders was the same, his heat was the same, even his scent was the same.

His mouth was just as soft as all those ages ago. 

He kept their kiss chaste at first. Though Sauron had initiated, he didn’t press any further, letting Eönwë  take the lead. After a few moments of enjoying the aching familiarity, he licked his way into Mairon’s mouth. Mairon opened up with a soft moan, letting Eönwë explore the taste of him. Eönwë’s tongue grazed against sharpened fangs, something his Mairon had never had, and he was back in the present. 

He leaped back from Sauron, panting as if he had just run a mile. 

Suron raised a hand to his lips, pink from being thoroughly kissed. “I missed you.”

Eönwë fled.

~*~

He told himself that it was a one-time lapse in judgement. He told himself it would not happen again. When he visited Sauron, he refused to discuss it, and kept a healthy distance between the two of them.

Sauron, for his part, seemed content to let the matter lie, though Eönwë often saw that damned mischievous smile flitting about his lips.

But Eönwë was weak. Memories of the kiss stirred up the older memories, the ones of precious moments between himself and Mairon. How those first kisses had felt. The sounds of Mairon’s cries of pleasure. The taste of skin beneath Eönwë’s tongue.

Morgoth’s Sauron had been Eönwë’s Mairon once. Something had changed. Something had taken his precious lover and turned him into a monster. Something had corrupted him. If only Eönwë could explore Sauron’s fëa, perhaps he could find the source of the corruption and root it out. Then, he could have his beloved Mairon back in his arms once again, right where he belonged.

But he was no Morgoth, to force his victims to expose the deepest parts of themselves. Yet he also doubted that Sauron would politely bare his soul if Eönwë asked. 

This intimacy Sauron was dangling in front of him could be the solution. Though they had learned to control themselves, their fëa rose closest to the surface at times of great passion. If he could get Sauron to lower his walls, expose himself, then Eönwë may have a chance to get his Mairon back.

~*~

He landed lightly on the edge of the platform. 

“Good morning. Afternoon. Whenever. It doesn’t seem to really get dark here,” Sauron said. He was in a chatty mood today, even though his back was turned towards Eönwë as he stared out at the lands below them. “Manwë’s orders? It seems a bit odd that he wouldn’t want to pay tribute to his lady’s works, but he did always strike me as rather self-centered. If he didn’t like or understand it, why would anyone? And if no one liked or understood something, why should it exist?” He turned to face Eönwë. “What do you think?”

“My thoughts are more preoccupied with metaphorical Light, rather than physical,” Eönwë replied.

“How dull,” Sauron said, turning back to his perusal of the horizon.

Eönwë stepped closer to him. “It’s not all Light. Like you, my thoughts have been turning to earlier times.” He put a hand on Sauron’s shoulder.

Sauron’s eyes traced a path from Eönwë’s hand, up his arm, and landed on his face. “Oh?”

Eönwë moved his hand from Sauron’s shoulder, reaching up to cup his face. “I missed you too,” he confessed before pulling Sauron into a kiss.

While their first kiss had been slow and sweet, this kiss was rough and hungry. Eönwë forced his way into Sauron’s mouth, plundering his lips. Sauron returned the attack with equal enthusiasm, threading his fingers in Eönwë’s hair to pull him closer.

Eönwë’s free hand dropped to Sauron’s waist, gripping the thin fabric there. It would be so easy to tear it away, leaving Sauron exposed. He rucked up the tunic until he could get his hand underneath and caress the soft skin.

Sauron broke the kiss with a laugh. “You’ve gotten bolder,” he said in the scant space between their mouths. “Aren’t you afraid your lord will see?”

Eönwë blinked, coming back from the high of the kiss. His plan. Stick to the plan. “My lord trusts me. He has no need to turn his gaze here unless I call for him.”

The pale column of Sauron’s neck looked particularly tempting. Even the lighter raised lines of scar tissue couldn’t detract from its beauty. Eönwë kissed and nibbled at it, raising his own marks of ownership.

Sauron moaned and laughed. “Yes! Show me how you missed me.”

Eönwë’s hand groped the swell of Sauron’s ass, pulling him closer. He groaned as their cocks rubbed against each other, separated only by a few layers of fabric. 

“I’ve learned a few things since our last time,” Sauron said. “You’ve never had this body before.”

“Did he? Have it?” Eönwë asked, cold water splashed onto his ardor.

“It is a maia’s duty to serve,” Sauron said. “Are you really telling me that you’ve never served Manwë on your back?”

Eönwë pushed away thoughts of his duties to Manwë to focus on what Sauron had admitted to. That must have been the source of the corruption. When his Mairon had lain with Morgoth, their fëar must have mingled, corrupting Mairon into Sauron. 

“It is an honor to serve,” Eönwë said. “But right now, I don’t want to think of service.”

“What do you want to think about?”

Eönwë pulled on Sauron’s clothes, tearing it away from his body, until he stood there naked. He didn’t shy away, didn’t attempt to cover himself. His posture was as proud and erect as the cock jutting out between his thighs.

Eönwë felt himself grow harder in response. 

Sauron laughed. “My turn.”

Before Eönwë could blink, Sauron had divested him of his own garments. He could feel Sauron’s gaze tracing over his body, moving along the lines of his muscles and coming to rest on his cock.

“As beautiful a sight as ever,” Sauron said. He stretched before lowering himself to the floor. He leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. The light shone on all of the exposed skin, and he glowed.

“A pity about these chains,” he said, knocking Eönwë out of the contemplation of his form. “I could bring you so much more pleasure without them.”

Eönwë disagreed. The sight of the golden chains draped over Sauron’s body, drawing the eye along his limbs, highlighting so many tantalizing spots was bringing him plenty of pleasure.

“A pity indeed that they are needed,” Eönwë said, kneeling over Sauron. “You are too dangerous to let walk free.”

“But not too dangerous to fuck?” Sauron said, feigning innocence.

Eönwë ran a hand down Sauron’s chest. “You’re far more dangerous like this. I’m sure you could topple kingdoms from your bed.”

Sauron cocked his head and fluttered his eyelashes. “Flatterer.”

Is it flattery if it’s true? Eönwë was playing a dangerous game. Yes, if he could force Sauron to expose the most intimate and vulnerable parts of his fëa, then Eönwë would have a chance to save him. But he could not do that without exposing himself in turn. He would have to be stronger and faster than the corruption.

He spoke no reply, not wanting to betray his thoughts. His lips pressed to Sauron’s before journeying down  his throat, skimming the red bite marks he had already made. His tongue lathed over the sharp juts of Sauron’s collarbone. He had heard that one of the Children would taste of the sea, the sweet salt of sweat. Sauron tasted of warm iron. Metal or blood? Eönwë could not say. 

He moved lower, kissing his way down Sauron’s chest until he reached the pink bud of a nipple. Teasing it with teeth and tongue caused Sauron to writhe beneath him, pressing their bodies together. 

“Do you have something to ease the way?” Sauron asked, voice breathless. “I’ve slicked myself with my own blood before, but I doubt that will be to your tastes. And with these,” he jingled the chains at his wrists, “There’s not much I can do.”

Eönwë glanced over at the pile of his clothes. “I did. Before I was so rudely stripped.”

“Turn about’s fair play, darling,” Sauron said. “You stripped me first. It’s gratifying to see how eager you are to resume our dalliances.”

Eönwë snapped his fingers and a small bottle of oil extracted itself from his clothes before flying to his waiting hand.

“You have no idea how I miss you, Mairon,” Eönwë said.

Sauron smirked at the slip of his tongue, but didn’t say anything. Eönwë opened the oil, poured some on his hand, and pressed a finger to Sauron’s entrance. Despite his earlier comments, Sauron’s body opened to him easily, letting him slip in a second and then third finger with little resistance. Eönwë very pointedly did not think about why Sauron would design his hröa to be so accommodating (or how he would measure up). Instead, he focused on finding that point of pleasure. He doubted that Sauron, hedonist that he was, would have built this body purely for Morgoth’s enjoyment and not thought of his own gratification.

Sauron tossed back his head with a loud moan, proving Eönwë’s theory correct. His moans grew louder as Eönwë rubbed the spot.

“Are you going to fuck me or just tease me?” Sauron snarled without any heat.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Eönwë replied.

Sauron rolled his eyes. “Trust me, the blue balls are <i>far</i> more painful than a little enthusiasm would be.”

Eönwë removed his fingers and rubbed more oil on his cock. The next moments would be vital. As he penetrated Sauron’s body, he would need to also penetrate his soul.

He loosened the ties between his fëa and his hröa, allowing more of his power to leak out. Before Sauron could question it, Eönwë thrust into him.

The world split in two. In one eye, he could see the physical realm, feel as he moved against Sauron. In the other, he could see their fëar circling each other like two galaxies. Sauron was smaller, duller, the chains binding him not allowing him to express his true beauty. 

But that wasn’t all Eönwë saw. 

Mairon was red, shining like molten gold. Sauron still had the red, but Darkness had entered his fëa, deepening the hues to blood and stealing his glow. The corruption was worse than Eönwë had feared. Everywhere he looked, it had spread. He couldn’t tell where it ended and his sweet, trapped Marion began. 

“What-?” Sauron’s body said. It tried to move away, sever the connection.

He couldn’t let that happen. This may be his only chance to save his love. His hands, so soft until now, clamped down on Sauron’s wrists like iron bars. At the same time, his fëa clamped onto Mairon’s. He thought the Darkness would attack, but instead it tried to pull back. His grip tightened, his fëa swirling with Mairon’s entwining them. He could feel and see Mairon’s memories, the blood and conquest in Morgoth’s name. He reached back further. If he could find the root, he could tear it out.

Sauron bucked, trying to throw Eönwë off. He struggled against Eönwë, but the physical world mattered little in comparison to the spiritual. Even here, the corruption resisted, trying to force Eönwë out. But he would not be so easily deterred.

“Enough!” Mairon’s fëa screamed without words, railing against Eönwë. “Release me!”

“That is what I’m trying to do!” Eönwë projected his desires to have Mairon returned, safe and whole and his.

Mairon’s fëa trembled and froze before flailing and screaming as the Darkness realized its end. “Fool! It is me! All me!”

“That is what it wants you to believe, but I know my Mairon,” Eönwë said. There! In the black hole at the center of the galaxy, so deep and dark no light could escape. Eönwë blazed in righteous fury. If the Darkness was so hungry for Light, he would happily feed it. Feed it until it bursts.

He poured his Light into the heart of the corruption. It tried to run, but there was no escape. Eönwë burned away any shadows it could have hidden in. Sauron could not give up his hröa and flee. The chains saw to that. He screamed and writhed. The sounds of his torment split both the physical and spiritual realms. Distantly, Eönwë could feel blood trickling out of his ears as his eardrums ruptured.

With a final tearing cry, Eönwë ripped the remnants of the Darkness out of Mairon’s soul. He summoned a javelin of purifying fire and smote the wretched thing that had stolen his beloved.

Exhausted from his battle, Eönwë extracted himself from Mairon’s fëa and folded himself back down into his hröa. He could feel where they were still intimately connected. 

Mairon, his sweet Mairon, looked like one of the countless casualties of the last battle. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth, and streaked down from his eyes like tears. He tried to say something, but Eönwë couldn’t hear him, as his eardrums were still fixing themselves.

Mairon shuddered and gasped. A bubble of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth. It popped, and Sauron breathed his last.

Eönwë pulled away. Mairon needed a new hröa, one never touched by Morgoth or his corruption. Though being a spirit trapped in a dead body was unpleasant, the chains would ensure that Mairon could not slip away while Eönwë crafted his new form.

Eönwë pressed a kiss to the rapidly cooling cheek. “Endure, my love. Just a little longer. Just a little longer and you’ll finally be free, and we can be together again.”

~*~

“This way, my lord,” Eönwë said, guiding Manwë deeper into his home. 

“And you are sure that he is cured and of no threat?” Manwë asked for at least the third time. “I know what it is to want to believe that one you love has returned to the Light. We cannot be too careful.”

“He is cured, though diminished from his time with the Dark,” Eönwë reassured him. “Mairon?” he called as they stepped into the large courtyard at the center of Eönwë’s home.

Mairon started. He had been looking up at the birds flying overhead. When Eönwë said his name, he turned. Seeing Manwë, he dropped into a deep bow.

“Rise,” Manwë said. 

Mairon straightened up, but kept his eyes turned submissively downward. He struck a very different figure from the defiant lieutenant that had stood before the Valar’s judgement. Eönwë had mentioned the destruction of his old body, but Manwë sensed the change ran much deeper than that.

This new body bore a striking resemblance to the one Mairon had had before betraying them. Yet this one was different. He seemed faded, lesser, the color of his skin and hair muted and wan.

“Eönwë tells me that you have made a true repentance, that you wish to abjure all your evil deeds,” Manwë said.

Mairon’s eyes flicked to Eönwë, then back to the ground. “Yes,” he said, his silver tongue tarnished to dullness. “I have seen the Light. I’ll be good. I want to be good.”

Eönwë smiled. He put his arm around Mairon’s waist and pressed a kiss to his brow. “You are good. Very good.” 

The diminishment Eönwë mentioned must have even impacted Mairon’s temperature regulation. Manwë had never seen the fire maia tremble with cold before.

“Please, my lord,” Mairon said. “I understand that I have caused great harm, but it is a maia’s purpose to serve. I would offer my services to a Vala, any who would have me. I know it is unlikely that Aulë would welcome me back, but perhaps Lady Nienna in her mercy-?”

“No,” Manwë said. “Eönwë believes you have reformed, but you are still too dangerous. Here is where you were placed, and here is where you will stay.”

Eönwë’s smile grew brighter. “I promise you, he has reformed. Yet I am pleased that you do not wish to separate us. We have been apart for too long.” He pulled Mairon tighter against his side.

Mairon shrank into himself. “I hear and obey, my lord.”

Leave a Comment