*pales, gripping the side of the tub, while breathing slowly through his nose*
“Get. Out!”
Sauron’s slitted pupils flared; the muscles in his face twitched into a snarl, but it was suppressed in short order.
Whatever warmth or provocative flirtation had been in his demeanor froze and died, leaving cruelty in its wake.
“…Leave, stay; fight, don’t fight… Since you can’t seem to make up your mind at all this evening, I’m afraid I’m going to have to do it for you."
And with that, he sprung— two coiled steps that moved a wall of heavy muscle at an unthinkable rate, shoulder pivoting to collide with the Noldo, knocking him to the floor while iron-hard forearms grappled and pinned his taller opponent, heedless of the knife between them.
The attack was hardly unexpected, Maedhros had sensed it approaching the very second his last words had left his lips. Maybe some part of him had been wishing for this. The Noldo steeled himself, more than against the savage violence which was to come, against his reaction to it.
Surreptitiously he took half a step back with his left leg, exposing his right side as the Maia talked. Despite knowing well any hope he may have to hold his own in this fight was linked to keeping his cool and use the Maia’s fury against him, despite his efforts to remain calm even in the air made heavy by the perfumed vapours of the bath and the sweetish smell of corruption that still haunted his darkest nightmares. Despite all this two different needs reverberated in Maedhros’s mind, strong enough to make his hands tremble, were he not to control them.
One was a savage glee, a frenzied need to fight to make Sauron pay for everything, to feel his blood, his pain, to make him scream; it was something that sang with his blood, that made every hair on his body stand. Yet another, a more rational part of his soul, told him how dangerous how unbalanced this fight would be, it recoiled at the idea of any physical contact without an armour to protect his body and more weapons.
Soon enough there was no more time to think. In two blindly fast steps the Maia charged him.No matter his attempt to follow the movement, the impact was devastatingly strong. Maedhros felt all air leave his lungs violently enough to burnt his throat as the other body slammed into his side. His, still wet, unbound, hair fell before his face hiding Sauron’s face and the pain of the impact on his right shoulder made his vision go black for a few seconds. In his mouth he could taste blood. Still his body seemed to remember how to act on its own, his mind almost cumbersome, the Noldo let himself fall, an agonised hiss ripping from his throat, and, using the momentum, sank his dagger to the hilt in the back of Sauron’s shoulder trying to hit the muscle and let gravity aid his knife cut down following the underside of the Maia’s arm, in an attempt to rip tendons and make his opponent’s right arm useless.
They crashed to the floor and its marble seemed almost hot as a wave of dizzying force reverberated through Maedhros’s back up to his skull, turning soon into white hot pain as a cold feeling slithered down his side. Another hiss escaped his lips yet, even before he was able to think straight again, the Noldo’s leg raised and he kneed the Maia on his right side twice with all his strength, feeling his rotule sink into the other’s body.Sauron’s grip was as strong as steel, the reek of his body suffocating and a part of Maedhros , even more than from the pain, felt like shuddering at the feel of his robe opening, leaving him vulnerable.
Still everything seemed to fall into second place before the desperate elation of the fight, as his breath became laboured and all his muscles twisted and tensed first left and then, suddenly right.He had only one hope right now: to force or trick the Maia to roll over and gain the upper position.
Steam issued from the wound before the parted flesh ran with hot red-black blood, and Sauron did indeed cry out in pain– a tight sound that quavered like a wire snapping– but he did not relinquish his grip.
The Noldo’s knee thudded dully against his side, finding it nearly unyielding as stone. But the elf’s twisting forced him to reassess his hold; with little enough purchase on the slick floor he nonetheless pressed forward with both legs, putting great weight on his pin-hold against Maedhros’s sternum, while his right hand snaked around the elf’s weapon arm, thumb applying pinpoint pressure on the inside of his elbow and slamming it against the ground.
His teeth bared white and snarling in Maedhros’s face, pointed long and feral, hot breaths ebbing between them with a deep, hungry growl.
The body of his opponent writhed long and lean and powerful like a great angered snake he had dared to wrestle, whose fangs had already tasted his back. If he hesitated too long, the elf’s height would give him enough leverage to maneuver away, and the torn muscles in his shoulder would not bear the strain of holding him down.
He had come with such hopeful, foolhardy intentions… Now here they were and his heart thundered with bright scarlet rage, absurdly close to a feeling of betrayal, even petulance– he did not know how to finish this fight, he had given the Noldo a victory even in starting it.
The lack of control made his rage seethe all the hotter. Unable to articulate more than a strangled "You–!”, the Maia lunged, clamping his jaws around the Noldo’s mouth, sinking teeth into his lips and cheek with suffocating force while his arm pressed down against the elf’s exposed throat.
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 