*pales, gripping the side of the tub, while breathing slowly through his nose*
“Get. Out!”
The sharp, broken point slammed into the socket of his eye, pain bursting hot and red through his skull. Sauron screamed like a burnt jungle cat, rearing back with blood on his teeth. He recoiled off his opponent, not giving Maedhros time to gain advantage, even if the elf had not been choking for air. He could feel the knife still in the meat of his shoulder, stinging brine dripping from his eye.
Panting, the huge maia rolled to his feet, retreating. Tussles between lions seldom lasted this long when they had nothing to gain… It was not worth the injuries he could sustain to bring one elf to submission. This was not worth the grief.
He spat blood on the floor, growling as he wrenched the blade from his back. The wound shrank even as the steel left it.
“You will never—” he hissed, “—never have the satisfaction of meeting me again in the flesh, Lefthander. You will die in my shadow; my armies will march over your bones, and no one will live to mourn your nameless corpse.” The knife clattered to the floor as the Dark Lord turned his back.
Air rushed back in his lungs as a flood and the weight keeping him pinned down left. The Maia’s scream echoed in his ears, almost as loud as their ringing. He didn’t even had the energy left to feel any dark satisfaction, it was almost instinct alone that made him roll over and raise to his knees and then to a crouched position. His hand slamming to the floor to stabilise himself against the dizziness.
It’s years of war and captivity moving his body more than any conscious effort: you never let the enemy know how spent you are.Despite his still flickering vision and how every breath seemed to cut the inside of his throat. Despite the way every muscle in his body seemed to tremble under the skin and the knowledge he had nothing more to give, all his strength spent in the last effort, Maedhros felt the insane impulse to raise from the crouched position he had managed to get in and throw himself against the Maia again. Just for the satisfaction of hearing that scream again, to smell his blood spilling.
No, no sense in getting himself killed now for a few minor wounds. A dark part of his mind sooted him. Told him how his vengeance required a plan, weapons and time. All the time it could take.
Maedhros could feel his face swelling around the wounds inflicted by Sauron’s teeth and his shoulder pulsed with an odd ache. Blinding pain would come later. As soon he could bring his body to understand the danger had passed.
Sauron’s words made a him raise his head, his eyes flared with a white hot light then a low, croaking, cackle came from his lips. “I do not think so Thauron. Your armies couldn’t kill me when a stronger master than you was behind them. No matter how long it will take me, I will have my vengeance against you.”
The foundations of the room rattled and mortar dust sifted from the ceiling as Sauron’s fist collided with the wall, stones loosened as if a hammer had stuck them. His back trembled, taut and corded with unreleased tension.
“Then we are both miserable fools! Useless relics with nothing else to sustain us than the hope of some… pyrrhic retribution for losses too great to be paid for.” He laughed. “How far we have fallen…”
The rage that had galvanized him moments before suddenly left him, cutting the strings of his vigor. Shoulders broad and gleaming as bronze grew slack, and the great Maia braced his weight against the wall, neither turning to his foe nor leaving as he had planned.
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 