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Imladris Prison
Topic Started: Oct 5 2007, 11:04 PM (548 Views)
Reno
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maya
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Sauron is enraged beyond coherent words as he's locked up and tied up deep underground in the dungeons of Imladris. Indeed, Rivendell has dungeons, deep and dark, designed for holding the most dangerous of prisoners, and Sauron definitely fits that description.

He's lying on the cold stone floor in the darkness, still bound with the thrice-cursed elven rope, drained of physical and magical strength, but it cannot drain his wrath. It is like a living creature within him, a coiled snake, throbbing with the beat of his ancient heart of fire.

He had been so close, so very close to attaining his goal, and then the damn Istari just had to appear, had to ruin everything yet again.

One day, Sauron would make the old fart scream, he'd rip his physical form apart and torture his eternal spirit over and over and over again until only madness will remain where the ancient full of wisdom mind is now.

How dare they, how dare those lowly curs take from him what is rightfully his, what has always belonged to him since the very dawn of time?!

The rage crests within him, and he lets out a howl of inhuman fury that, even muffled through the gag, makes the walls shake as if they're made of plywood.

Finally, after that last heave of emotion, rational mind slowly begins to take over.

Rage would not solve the problem of his current predicament, would not get him out of here, and most importantly, would not give him back the Ash Naz. He needs to calm down, to make a plan and escape and then he has to find that delicious little red-head and get his Ring back. He might claim the red-head as well, he'd make such a lovely little plaything that both he and his beloved. They would enjoy him for a very, very long time.

With that resolve, the fury slowly ebbs away leaving only cold resolve in it's wake. Gandalf would regret he ever dared to put his filthy paws on him.
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Gandalf allowed the rebel Maia several good long hours to contemplate his situation, and then he walked down the long flight of steps to the very bottom chamber.

Sauron lay on his belly, wriggling like an angry and frustrated serpent, the fury coming off of him in dark waves of pure rage. The elven bonds held him in thrall, for now, and they had purposely laid him this way, as the gag had remained in place. Even Sauron did not deserve to choke to death if he became ill.

With a booted foot, the Istar rolled Sauron on his back, and looked down at him impassively.

"If this were Angband's prison, I suppose it might be many days before there was the mercy of food or drink, and a kind word would never be heard at all. I have heard of your way with your captives, Sauron. You are fortunate to not be at the mercy of one such as yourself, but in the care of elves and an old fool who still believes in decency."

Kneeling down, he removed the gag, and threw it to the corner.

"Think, before you SPEAK, Naro, for I will brook no wasting of my time with foulness and curses. Be wise, and remain in self control, remain civil. I come to ask you terms of your surrender, for that is what we have now, willing or no. You may ask for and receive a fair trial, or you may simply accept and admit to your crimes. You will not die for your guilt, but you will never see freedom again. There is no other way, and you deserve this, more than this, truly. If you do simply accept your penalty, a prison will be made for you at Osgiliath to hold you for your time, which will of course be measured in thousands of years. There will be no reprieve and no parole, but nor will there be cruelty. You will be allowed a guarded area for fresh air, if you even desire such a thing--and you will have the free roam of the prison."

Sauron had not even tried to speak yet, and so Gandalf finished.

"If you do demand a trial, there is a very good possibility that your life may be asked for--nay, even insisted upon. I cannot interfere with this, if you choose that path, you will be at the mercy--or lack therof--of the people of Arda. I can only protect you if you immediately surrender and admit guilt. You will then be MY prisoner, technically, and I will see that you are not harmed. But this is the choice before you, think WELL before you answer!"

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maya
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Despite having regained self-control before Gandalf arrived inside his dank little lair, he cannot help but sneer at his words.

"How would the trial be fair, Olorin, since you have already labelled me guilty?" he asks, mocking sneer firmly in place. "How would it be fair with biased judges around?" and he snickers, deeply and gutturally, the curses softly in the Black Speech as the damn elven binds cut too deeply in his wrists.

Then, he grows quiet for a moment, contemplating the old goat's words. Whatever he says, he'd end up either imprisoned or dead if they have their way.

The trial puts him at too much risk, he's far too aware that he cannot win, no matter what, he'd be pronounced guilty by morning and then swiftly executed. It would be unpleasant and very very troublesome to lose yet another mortal form, not to mention that once he loses it, Manwe and his cronies might get a hold of him and put him through their trial, and that is something he'd rather avoid at all costs.

Admitting guilt would mean swallowing his pride, and he has lots of it, but it would also mean stalling and gaining time to make an escape plan. He knows for a fact that there's always a weak link in a prison somewhere, be it the facility itself or the people who guard him. He's a master manipulator, one way or the other, he'd manage to weasel his way out to freedom. It'll take time, but an immortal like himself has all the time in the world, and infinite patience.

He looks up at the wrinkly pale face. Really, why did Olorin insist on keeping that decrepid form when he can be almost as fair as him? His lips press into a thin white line and he lifts his chin, trying to look down on Gandalf even from his position on the floor.

"I will admit guilt, Gandalf, Olorin, but not because I believe that I am guilty, I will do it because I have no desire to be put through your so-called fair trial. Do not mock my intelligence again with empty promises of fairness." he hisses and looks straight in the old eyes, his own pupils narrowing down to hateful reptile-like slits.
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"Very well, then. Sauron, if your intelligence was anything approaching what you believed it to be, you would not be IN this situation!" He stood up straight, and sighed heavily. "You have, at least and at last, made a wise decision, if only to preserve your own life. We will prepare your destination, and then you will be moved to it, to serve out the sentence I pronounce upon you, that being life in prison for murder and mayhem of a vast nature!"

Looking down at the Maia with saddened eyes, Gandalf turned to go.

"I will send the Peredhel's sons down here with food for you soon, Sauron, and more bedding so you are not cold. And your bonds---if you relax and cease your mental struggle against them, you will find they loosen and are not painful to you. So much of your suffering you cause to yourself, even now."

Walking to the foot of the steps, he hesitated, and then added softly, "When we are at Osgiliath, I will make an effort to redeem you, to change you, to give you some hope of eventual freedom. But I make no PROMISES! It will rest SOLELY on your shoulders, your patience and willingness to cooperate. It will be many years, but if I see progress and repentance, I will petition the Valar for a better situation for you. It is entirely up to you."

And then he was gone, to leave Sauron to muse on this.

(( OOC Gandalf to send down El and El ))
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Reno
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Elrohir when he came down gave Elladan a silent nod, indicating their plan would be put into effect. Sauron had done much harm to they and their own, and in their opinion if he died of what they were to do, as their own kind would, so much the better. He was dangerous, very dangerous, and that was something that they both knew very well. He gave the signal for Elladan to hold Sauron down while he gagged the man, then once he was gagged his breeches were removed, the elven bonds taken from his legs in order to gain access to that sweet opening.


The half-elven boy ignored Sauron's protests altogether as he pushed inside, intent only on punishing the one who had hurt so many, those eyes narrowing. He cared neither for his own pleasure, nor Sauron's, merely in punishing him, making him feel the humilation, and hopefully find his own death so he may be a danger no longer. His own release was signaled by a shudder and a soft grunt as he stepped back to allow the other his turn.


As the two left, Elrohir in the back, the door was not fully latched. Something that would be regretted once Sauron discovered it.
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Elladan REFUSED to feel any pity, any remorse, any guilt over this, though the elven bloodline was screaming hotly at him that they were disgracing their entire RACE with this.

Better than him?! ARE we, NOW?!

Mithrandir is SPARING him Mithrandir is the one allowing this creature to live, yet our poor MOTHER was raped to death by ORCS sent by this abomination...


"Sauron, we do this to you for the CRIMES you have brought to our people, the thousands and thousands that go UNAVENGED, from the pits of Utumno to the Iron Hells of Angband, all the way to NOW. Mithrandir will not deliver justice, but we will, and this will end your days on Arda at last..."

They truly had faith that the Maia would die of this, but they were in for a terrible shock.

He slid inside the now slickened entry far easier than his brother had, and surged in deep, fighting off the pleasure that threatened. If he took pleasure in this it would truly make him a MONSTER, and he refused to do that. This was an EXECUTION, or so they believed.

Spending fast inside the golden being, he moved away, and then removed the gag.

"We are to leave him unbound, and we may as well leave the food, it matters not now."

They walked to the step, tossing the wrapped packages of meat and the flask of water. "Die soon, Sauron, mayhap the Valar will show you mercy, if you ever find it in your heart to feel any remorse. But you do not deserve to walk in the light of Anor, and your days here are at an end."

The Maia lay on his belly, silent, and it seemed death must be near. The two left, and savagely forced their guilt away.

(( OOC El & El away ))
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maya
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During the whole ordeal he remains silent as a grave, not uttering a single sound, gag or no gag. He would not give them the pleasure of making him scream, not him, Melkor's first lieutenant.

Those two half-elven half-breeds take their pleasure in him, one following the other, and he takes the damage with burning eyes looking up at them, pure rage filling every fiber of his being, rage and raw hatred much stronger than anything he has felt up to this moment.

Hatred not only for the two pathetic mutts, but for Gandalf as well, he, who is his own brother, his own kin, he, who must have sent these two rats to do his dirty job. Is this what his imprisonment, should he ever fail to escape this place and be moved to Osgiliath, would entail? Would the old goat send others to do his work there, again and again, and watch in secret from somewhere? Has he watched now?

He's lying on the ground, blood and other bodily fluids seeping down his bare thighs, watching the cracks between the stones that made this underground box.

He's not a Firstborn, he will not die from this violation, but he has a long memory, and he will never forget this insult. It will give him even more incentive to leave this place as soon as possible and then find the Ash Naz... And when he does, he will make them all regret it, especially Gandalf and those two little mutts. He will make them scream for mercy, will bathe in their blood and feast on their flesh, and would make them do same, to themselves and each other, and he'll watch it all, over and over again.

The venom of his rage and hatred spreads through his weakened body, and despite him being unable to even move now due to his broken and damaged state, his spirit is stronger than ever, as strong as it has ever been without the Precious. His reptilian eyes burn in the darkness with the fire of preternatural existence, but it is a horrible, demonic flame, the light of Valinor long gone from it.
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silverfeathersfall
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Elrond strode inside the prison, nodding at the guard stationed bear the outer doorway as he made his way down the long hallway to where the prisoner, Sauron, as being kept. He smelt the condition of the prisoner far before he entered the room, and once he opened the door (which was unlocked, he'd have to make sure to admonish his sons for not locking the latch back), he was nearly floored by the stench of blood and semen.



A loud curse was uttered as the Elf made his way over to Sauron, dropping to the ground beside the Maia, looking him over carefully. This wasn't good, not at all. If the Maia was hurt, injured, it made things worse than before. Gandalf would NOT like this, and he needed to be informed of this right away.
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maya
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Sauron looks up to the lord of Imladris and sneers.

"Welcome, Elrond Peredhil. You came to finish the job your sons started?" he hisses and turns onto his back and spreads his legs, giving the half-elf perfect view of his violated behind.

"Do you like what you see? Where is Olorin? Shouldn't he be here with you, so he can enjoy the acts you commit against me?" he taunts, voice dripping with saccharine venom.

He is beyond enraged, there is no word to describe what he feels now. Is this Gandalf's protection? He should've wanted a trial, at least then it'd have been over quickly.

Raising his chin, he stares at the shocked man. "Well, what are you waiting for? Or are you disappointed that you have come here after your whelps? You don't like taking scraps from others, Peredhil?" he says, eyes blazing with a challenge.

"Liars, the lot of you. And you call ME corrupted. At least I am not a hypocrit."
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"My....Sons?" Elrond blinked hard and shook his head. No, surely not. He must be lying, though he knew that no others had been in this room, or else they had gone against strict orders from the Lord himself. "Surely... Surely you jest, my sons would not do such a thing!"


He stood back up, backing away a bit as he stared down at the Maian, his eyes wide. He knew deep down it had been his sons, as much as he tried to think otherwise. "I'll not take you as you were taken. It is uncalled for, unjustified, against the rules of my people to use such crude ways to exact any sort of revenge for anything you have done to us. I will have to have a talk with my sons to make sure that they are truly the ones who did this, but until then, I assure you, I will personally bring you your food."
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maya
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"Surely... Surely you jest, my sons would not do such a thing!"

The laughter that bubbles out of his mouth at those words is hysterical and he spreads his legs even further, hoping Elrond would get an even better look at the damage done to his body.

"Indeed, boy, this is a joke. It is a jest that your sons came down here and used me for their pleasure. I am sure they're up there and telling your dearest Olorin about their deed and the lot of them are having a good laugh at my expense!"

Suddenly, all mock mirth is erased from his features and they become as cold as a chiseled stone.

"Hear this, Peredhil. I will not forget this. I may be a prisoner now, but you do not know what our future holds. And your sons will always be looking over their shoulders, because one day, sooner or later, I will ask for this indignity to be repaid."

His eyes glow red and for a second, his very skin turns transparent to show the fire burning inside of him, making up his very preternatural being.


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"May I see the prisoner, Peredhel?"

Standing at the top of the steps, having crept in here silently, Celebrimbor spoke in soft, fluting tones, and he smiled easily, as he ever did. he could see Sauron in the half light of the chamber, and he was immediately given a deep thrill of cold remembrance of the beautiful creature.

He knew Elrond was looking up at him with wide, shocked eyes, but at this moment, all he could think of was what lay ahead, the reunion with the matchless Sauron.

Annatar, always.

"Please. It will be alright, and I have waited a very long time to do this, Elrond."
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maya
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When he hears those velvety, deep tones Sauron immediately closes his legs and looks up with wide eyes. It's him, Celembrimbor. The elf who forged the Rings of Power. The elf he seduced, used, and then tortured and eventually murdered. Here he is, as beautiful and graceful as ever and Mayar cannot help but feel a twinge of... something - need, regret, desire at the sight of him.

But those feelings are mixed with dread and apprehension. Celebrimor has great reasons to want revenge against him, and he is helpless and vulnerable, with no way to defend himself. Would he continue what the Peredhel's sons started? Or would he kill him right away?

For once, Sauron, Annatar, is silent. Quietly, he crawls to the corner of the cell and curls there, trying to cover up as much of his naked body as he can.
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silverfeathersfall
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When Elrond heard the voice come from behind him, then next to him as Celebrimbor spoke, he couldn't help the widening of his eyes. "C-Celebrimbor? But....how can this be?" He reached out and very lightly let his fingers dance down the other's elf's arm as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.



He let him got to Sauron, not daring to stop him. If anyone could get through to him, it would be the Elf that had forged the very Rings that Sauron craved.
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