Mairon had exhausted himself rather early on as he tried to fight and didn’t realize how weak a human body is.
He slumped, even dozing off from sheer exhaustion as they traveled on horse-back. Because of this, he didn’t even realize where they were. He could barely hear the waves as his hearing had been muted.
He had barely been concious of what was going on around him because of the immense amount of water around him – pushing – flowing – threatening to drag him into the deeps – so in a way he was grateful that Ossë pulled him away from it.
It was painful however – much more painful than it had been when he was a maia – and he couldn’t help but yelp as he was hoisted up like that. His many years with Melkor had taught him to stay quiet most often however, so when Ossë twisted his hand in his hair, he remained silent. He knew how to lessen his pain somewhat, and therefore reached up to take hold of Ossë’s hand. It didn’t do much and he didn’t try to pry him off, but it helped to get some of the weight off his scalp.
He was panting heavily however, as he tried to understand what they were talking about. He didn’t get the details – He didn’t get the exact purpose of either of them – but it was very clear that Sauron would not help him.
Sauron – His brother to whom he had gone to get help in his hour of need – Would hurt him worse than Ossë ever could. No fair judgement… No fair trial…. Just the cruelty the two of them were known for.
“Traitor…!” he hissed at Sauron, before being cut off by how carelessly Ossë handled him. Even if he had planned on saying more things – spewing more accusations at his brother – the abrupt tossing of his fragile body made sure that he couldn’t say anything else.
It was a miracle that his neck didn’t snap (he had done so accidently with more than enough elves and men to know just how little force it took to break bones), but the force still tugged and tore at him. It put great strain on his muscles and nerves, and in some places the skin actually even tore, causing him to bleed.
Overall he was intact, but the physical trauma was still enough to make him whimper.
———-((Ossë’s reply))
“Traitor?” Sauron laughed. “But I am fulfilling the very letter of my word! I promised you I would protect your life, ensure you came to no harm for the duration of your curse, and so I shall!” He strode over the sand to where Ossë held his sibling prone and kicking in the air, his mewling sweet in the dark lord’s ear.
He grasped Mairon’s narrow chin between gloved thumb and finger, squeezing hard with a creak of leather while his voice dripped honey. “I will take good care of you, brother, for as long as you shall live– and it will be a hundred years at least, I guarantee it,” he smiled. “Long enough for your hair to turn white and recede past your ears, for your skin to sag and turn spotty as old fruit, for all that is taut and smooth to loosen and wrinkle, for your amber eyes to grow dull and cloudy, for your gut to billow and your knees protrude, your back bend and your jowls quiver… Oh, my pretty, pretty brother… don’t worry. I’ll look after you even when you no longer have teeth to chew with, and any attempt you make to end your days before Eru calls you home, I will forestall. You see? I will be keeping my promise to you for years and years to come.”
He stroked Mairon’s fair cheek. It amused him to see his brother dangle so, like a child’s top in the hands of a storm. His cousin-Maia’s wrath was absolute, terrible as lightning at sea, chilling the air and whipping the surf into a lashing spray. It froze him to the core, but delighted him all the same.
Releasing his brother’s face roughly, he pulled back to address the towering figure of Ossë.
“I swear it,” he said, touching his chest. “And to you, wraith, I swear also: when his power is undone, you will be his servant no longer– nor any other’s. But we must hurry; it fast approaches the hour of the curse’s end.”
He beckoned to the kneeling corsair, one of the nine undead men his brother had enslaved to his power, the mirror of his own magic-bound servants. “You, friend of Ossë,” he urged, “you need not wait to receive your boon. I will give it to you now, as a gesture of good faith. Come, give me your ring-bearing hand, and I will unshackle you from his will.”
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 