Tag: Textual Conquests

“A fantasy involving *you*, cousin? Well there is one that regularly enters my mind. Have you ever seen how the ḫalānimaṣātānu copulate? Rough and swift and viciously, a tangle of limbs and their bodies twisting closer and darting away — a *battle*. And once your energy has been expended and you are thoroughly distracted by the promise of the pleasures of flesh… my tentacles around your throat, squeezing the very life from you.”

masteroftheseas:

misbehavingmaiar:

He considers, a finger resting on his lips. “You know, in all my ages of life, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of seeing octopi mating. It sounds delightful, if what you say is true! But beasts aside…” his hands disappear behind his back, clasping as he leans forward to grin in his cousin’s face, “…I’m very interested in this daydream of yours. You make such a fuss about my proclivities, but obviously you have a few sadistic wishbones in that aquatic skeleton,” he laughs. 
“This must be uncharted territory for you– is it not? You have a loving Maia wife with whom you must be sweet and caring, and a loyal Quendi husband with whom you must be exceedingly careful…. Who do you have, Ossë, that can explore the murky depths of desire with you?” 
Eyes glint like jewels in the dark. “What is it about this dream that excites you? What part of seeing me helpless makes you short of breath, your teeth clench? Is it imagining the feel of flesh at your mercy; the compress of my windpipe as it gives out and crushes beneath you? The writhing muscles of your victim, struggling to breathe? Would it be, perhaps, my expression in the moment? How do you picture it: Desperate? Pained? Pleading? Filled with awe and terror? Is that what stirs the blue blood in your sea-dwelling veins? Believe me, Cousin…” he bares his throat as if on display, tracing the v-line of muscles down to their nexus at his sternum, “I understand that desire more than most.”

Ossë is very good at masking his facial expressions – he has been practicing for Ages, after all. So his arrogant, wicked smirk does not falter. Even when Sauron leans forward with a decidedly confident grin of his own, it does not falter. Even when he hits far too close to the truth to be an accident when discussing his marriages, it does not falter. But he does click low, steadily, a beat beneath Sauron’s words.

Oh, and those words. Sauron is crafty, weaving an image and a story out of what had been intended as a discouraging barb. (It had been intended as such, right?) Clearly his cousin did understand, for how else could he define and display it so beautifully? The feel of delicate flesh yielding beneath his might. The pitiful struggle of prey, destined to lose. The smell of fear and the look of understanding as they gaze upon their end. He growls softly, a rumble like distant thunder.

And to imagine Sauron in that position – no, even then his expression does not falter, but his eyes flash with inner light and markings flare to life over his skin before dimming away. Ossë’s gaze flickers to the proffered throat. He huffs and drops his smirk, snaps his head to look away and find distance.

“You do not understand me,” he hisses, voice dry and crackling. “I am content with what I have; I want for nothing.” (He is content. He is happy. His Pearl completes him and his Elf fulfills him. This passing darkness is nothing a good storm cannot settle.) His eyes shift back to that tempting throat, though, and they flash again like lightning that traces patterns down his form. It would be a simple thing to put Sauron in his place, to just reach out and squeeze all that smug pride from him, to drag him into the Sea and remind him why the Sea was feared.

He does not even realize that two tentacles have sprouted, coiling behind him in anticipation, or that his fins have flared out in display as he thrums steadily.

His cousin is so beautiful in his wrath; all that fine-boned arrogance and twisting kelp hair dripping pearls. It reminds him of the Dawn of Arda when all was wild and fierce and unbound by laws designed to keep fragile lives safe. (It was that spirit Melkor coveted, he remembers, that freedom he sought to restore to Ainur). 

Dark water laps at the cave floor, hungrily pawing up the rock as Ossë writhes in power, as if the sea is seeking him. Brooding watersnakes flee their stony hideouts and drop into the lightless pool, seeking the safety of the open ocean waiting just beyond the cavern– he might be wise to find his own refuge, but he has risked more for less gain, and far less entertaining ends. 

Instead he drops his collar further, disrobing of his apron and vest, rolling his head back and letting the tips of his fingers trace the contours of his throat. 

“You want for nothing, Terror? Where is the ancient stormchild, the wrath of the tide that made the old earth tremble?” He steps into the water, wrapping black and frigid around his knees. He bites his lip hard with the points of his fangs, and lets his blood join the salt of the sea. “Have you ever tasted the flesh and fëa of your own kind, Ossossai? Ever drunk power from another’s blood? There is nothing like it, no food or drink of this earth that compares.” 

The water washes past his hips, up his belly, The whiplash tendrils of his cousin’s eerily luminescent form churn perilously close; indignant, wrathful, betraying their master’s vows of contentment as lies. …Lies he aches to rip from Ossës lips, even if it leaves him drowning. 

“You want for nothing? Then there is no reason for you to catch me.” He plunges, a streak of shining white and black cetacean skin, teeth and fin, racing for the midnight sea. 

ashandbrine:

misbehavingmaiar:

There was no shuffle of feet to announce his entrance, no entourage of Orcish guards to mark the arrival of an officer. When he came, he merely appeared, stepping from the lamp-black shadows into the furnace light of the volcanic cell. 

“You.” The somber voice curled with disdain. “You’re the one He wanted so badly?” Sauron came forward, thrusting a hand between the bars of the cell to clamp the elf’s bruised jaw between his fingers. He seemed to be appraising a cut of meat, finding it inadequate. “So many sent to die, for this? You look nothing like him.”  This was not addressed to Maedhros, and the lieutenant did not bother to clarify who or what he meant as he relinquished his grasp.
 
“Such a waste.” 

The great maia’s back was turned as he examined structures obscured by the darkness of the chamber. Soft metallic sounds echoed amidst the rumbling of the subterranean pit; quiet clinks and clacks of some device turned in the hand, the creak and slither of leather, chilling in their ambiguity. A spray of distant magma illuminated briefly the walls lined with what seemed workman’s tools; racks and rows of hanging instruments, long empty tables, vials and troughs of liquid. He hummed a low note of satisfaction, selecting at last a tool that met with his approval. 

“You are… Maedhros. First and eldest of the sons of Fëanor. Yes?” The maia asked, unhurried. He knelt, huge and graceful, before the iron cage, red-gold eyes searching out the prisoner’s. “I am Sauron, first lieutenant and forgemaster of Angband. My Master has given you to me for the purposes of breaking.” He unfurled the whip that had been coiled lazily in his hands, all black braid with many silver-tipped tails. “If you choose to be forthcoming with information that is useful to my Master, we may forgo many painful formalities, but not all. I myself hold no personal grudge against you… if it were in my power to break Lord Melkor’s fascination with those of your house, I would happily do so. To me, you are an enemy soldier, an irritant, worthy of no more attention or special effort than any other. But to my Master…”
The maia blinked slowly, lips touched with an expression of irony; “To my Master, you a most sought and toothsome prize.”

As he spoke, he unlocked the mechanism keeping shut the cage, springing it open. He looked not at all distressed that his prisoner might escape. With one hand he pulled the captive’s chain, forcing him out of the cell at the behest of his neck.  

 “I do as my Master bids– happily, unhesitatingly, exhaustively. And what He bids is that you shall have the memory of Him burned onto you forever, that His unsatisfied desires, His wrath, shall find satisfaction.”  

Sauron tilted his head, eyes flashing in the gloom like an animal’s. “You are to be your father’s whipping boy, Noldo. You can thank Fëanor for what you will endure here; it was he my Master wanted, but He has you instead.” 


Awareness had not been born
until the other’s voice has burst into existence. Maedhros was
startled though all he did to show it was a mere widening of his
eyes. No, he wast still and silent as the other grasped his face.
There was no room to flee his foul touch and flinching would have
only served to hurt the weak remains of his pride. (He had a feeling
it wouldn’t remain in tact soon so he clung to it like he had once
clung to Nerdanel’s skirts under a different name.)

His eyes did not lift, did
not take in the room around him at the brief glint of light. It hurt
his eyes after hours spent in darkness more so than the other’s
bruising touch. He did not answer, did not not speak in a long time
nor showed interest in  Sauron’s words. He half sought out something
to spite the other, to throw him into a rage that would crush him.
Maedhros had no desire to live if it meant being used as a banner of
betrayal. Nay- he would rather have his throat slit now and be
haunted in Mando’s halls by all who he had killed on the path to get
here.

In turn, he almost welcomed
the sound of the whip unfurling-
he would deserve such things
after all. How much
blood had he spilled in Alqualondë?

He made to wet his lips though his tongue was dry and finally lifted his gaze as the
cell door was opened. He gingerly took a breath of what would be his
last moment of peace then locked his muscles, resisting as a collar
‘round his neck was pulled, his body soon following against his want.

Maedhros wanted to snarl,
to claim- Feanor has already done the damage you can not deal. What
was a whip, what was pain? His own father had led them away from home
permanently. Their own father had decided not to turn back ships
for their loyal love one who would follow them. His own father had
set their youngest brother ablaze, his pyre burning around him as he
choked to death on the ash he would become.

Instead he smiled, weary
and bitter  “- Do your best then, for a dog gets no satisfaction
unless they earn their master’s affections. I am gladdened by the
sight of the pet and not the owner. Tell me, how sharp are your
teeth?” Kill me, kill me.

The maia laughed, the echo of it reverberating throughout the cavern. His lips pulled back, revealing vicious and curving fangs. 

“Very,” he grinned. “But you’ll not tempt me into killing you just yet, Noldo. Not so early in our acquaintance.” The prisoner’s mind slipped open to him, unguarded as it was in a moment of nihilism and despair; he’d heard a whisper of his name on a prayer, begging for death, and that was all he needed to cross the threshold. 

So deep was the mire of that mind, the bitterness it held pulled inward all hope and drowned it preemptively in uncaring death. Yet at the center of that sand-trap of apathy lay what remained of a beautiful thing; a bright red-winged bird of free spirit and song, buried deep in the tar. 

And that was all he saw before the doors closed on him. 

“Sad little thing, aren’t you? Giving in so soon.” He slid a hand through the Noldo’s rust red hair; a mockery of comfort. “Tell me, who was the master who withheld their affection from you, pup? Could it be you’re still following their command, o oft-kicked hound?” He clucked his tongue. “One wonders why.”

 

ashandbrine:

                                                                            @misbehavingmaiar
Desolate.
That was what this place was. Maedhros has dimly thought that even
evil would have liked to dwell in paradise. Would have imagined the
maiar flitting in a garden even whilst covered in the blood and guts
of the recently slain. Lava pits were the only bloom of color that
marked the dark earth however. Just as well that their home be as
ugly as their souls. He wandered if his own stronghold was like his.
Impossibly cold but strong and unyielding. He had to get home, had to
protect what was left of his people, his brothers.

                                                                                 
Yet
he was here.

In
a cell so small he couldn’t stand if he wanted to. He
didn’t really. The pads of his feet were cut up and oozing blood. He
was half convinced that there was poison pressed in to keep them from
clotting and scabbing over. That wasn’t really something to worry
about. They were only cut up from the walk up roughly hewn stones,
not from injury inflected upon his person by other hands. No- that
was still to come, he was certain.

This
was the land that bound his people to darkness, that twisted their
fea and their hroa to match. He smiled bitterly as he pressed his
forehead to his knees. Was that what was to become of him? An orc? If
Manwe gave any blessings to his family, to his kin, he hoped they
wouldn’t have to face against him on the battle field. Better he
bleed out here in this tiny cell alone and forgotten in the dark.

@ashandbrine
There was no shuffle of feet to announce his entrance, no entourage of Orcish guards to mark the arrival of an officer. When he came, he merely appeared, stepping from the lamp-black shadows into the furnace light of the volcanic cell. 

“You.” The somber voice curled with disdain. “You’re the one He wanted so badly?” Sauron came forward, thrusting a hand between the bars of the cell to clamp the elf’s bruised jaw between his fingers. He seemed to be appraising a cut of meat, finding it inadequate. “So many sent to die, for this? You look nothing like him.”  This was not addressed to Maedhros, and the lieutenant did not bother to clarify who or what he meant as he relinquished his grasp.
 
“Such a waste.” 

The great maia’s back was turned as he examined structures obscured by the darkness of the chamber. Soft metallic sounds echoed amidst the rumbling of the subterranean pit; quiet clinks and clacks of some device turned in the hand, the creak and slither of leather, chilling in their ambiguity. A spray of distant magma illuminated briefly the walls lined with what seemed workman’s tools; racks and rows of hanging instruments, long empty tables, vials and troughs of liquid. He hummed a low note of satisfaction, selecting at last a tool that met with his approval. 

“You are… Maedhros. First and eldest of the sons of Fëanor. Yes?” The maia asked, unhurried. He knelt, huge and graceful, before the iron cage, red-gold eyes searching out the prisoner’s. “I am Sauron, first lieutenant and forgemaster of Angband. My Master has given you to me for the purposes of breaking.” He unfurled the whip that had been coiled lazily in his hands, all black braid with many silver-tipped tails. “If you choose to be forthcoming with information that is useful to my Master, we may forgo many painful formalities, but not all. I myself hold no personal grudge against you… if it were in my power to break Lord Melkor’s fascination with those of your house, I would happily do so. To me, you are an enemy soldier, an irritant, worthy of no more attention or special effort than any other. But to my Master…”
The maia blinked slowly, lips touched with an expression of irony; “To my Master, you a most sought and toothsome prize.”

As he spoke, he unlocked the mechanism keeping shut the cage, springing it open. He looked not at all distressed that his prisoner might escape. With one hand he pulled the captive’s chain, forcing him out of the cell at the behest of his neck.  

 “I do as my Master bids– happily, unhesitatingly, exhaustively. And what He bids is that you shall have the memory of Him burned onto you forever, that His unsatisfied desires, His wrath, shall find satisfaction.”  

Sauron tilted his head, eyes flashing in the gloom like an animal’s. “You are to be your father’s whipping boy, Noldo. You can thank Fëanor for what you will endure here; it was he my Master wanted, but He has you instead.” 

? for Tar-Míriel, if you’d like :)

crocordile:

misbehavingmaiar:

There is very little I would not say you that would not also be difficult for me to say to myself. You know I use the truth as often as I am able— it takes only a little embroidering, if any, to make it work to one’s advantage. 

…I would like to tell you that if you had seen the elves of the First Age, you would not be so inclined to put your whole faith in their wisdom. They have never, and will never, have your species’s best interests at heart. 
Neither will the Valar, who have no place for you in their paradise nor any knowledge of where your spirits rest after death. The only one to whom you are not a complete mystery is Eru, and Eru has not spoken since the beginning of time.

All the custodians of this fragmentary world will fail the Edain in the end, and if you were sensible, you would run from them all and never cease until you had a kingdom of your own, beholden to no one.

Now that would be a true tribute to the Giver of Freedom! Far more than this useless ceremonial blood…  

~S

The upper balcony has a better view of the city, but it also provides others with a better view of whoever stands there. Instead, Míriel watches through the window of her own study room as the smoke ascends to a sky made red by the stained glass. An adequate color, but the potential symbology of it sounds unoriginal somehow. The world has grown full of cheap poetry nowadays.

“The Giver of Freedom.”, her companion spits, probably wearing the expression of disgust he only allows himself in their brief, secretive conversations about the Temple and its High Priest.  “This whole city has lost its wits”.

“My father also believed that death was freedom”. She still dreams of his last moments: a serene expression and a hint of a smile even as she grieved and begged him to stay. ‘It is time, child’, he told her, even though she was already a woman grown, even though she was indeed the queen by then, ruling in his place as he wasted away. ‘Do not hold me back, for I long to be free’. 

The memory still stings a little. “It is not so different from what the Wise said once, is it?” If I died, I would be free as well. “Was the magician not one of Them once? How do we know we are being cheated now, and not before? ‘Death brings freedom’, he says. It is quite the same.” She knows this logic is false, faulty and cynical, and has put it apart herself many times over the long years, and yet the words just stumble out of her mouth. Perhaps she grows unstable as well as old. Perhaps she is only bored and trying to provoke some feeling out of her companion. Or out of herself.

Words seem to escape him for a moment, till his expression grows even more bitter , grave beyond his years. “It…. It is as different as the sun and the sea, your Majesty. There is a time for living and a time for dying. These grotesque murders are… the way they give our brothers bound and gagged to be murdered in the name of this Shadow! To die screaming, in bonds like a slave… No, your Majesty, pray don’t test me like this. The Men of old ran from and fought against the Shadow of tyranny and won their freedom with blood and sacrifice, and yet their sons receive the very same Tyrant it in their homes, with a welcome feast and arms wide open… ”

And the Women of old, what did they do? Míriel vaguely wonders, but it’s pointless. What do scholars and books ever know? Far and wide people call her “Zimraphel”, and “Pharazôn’s queen”. Perhaps in history books they would tell of how she loved him so much she spit on her father’s grave and gave him the scepter and the crown willingly, and then also willingly faded into darkness so as to let him shine more brightly.

In the horizon, the smoke keeps rising lazily, so dark and unending it might as well cover the whole sky. In the silence that follows, Míriel finds she is also disgusted, after all.

doegred:

misbehavingmaiar:

[snip starter]

In the beginning, his Father forged the body he wore in the same molten furnace as the works of the Earth; he’d awoken knowing perfect affinity with each material Sang by Aulë, his own essence replete with their power. It was an act of desperate futility to bind any Maia with mere metal, but especially him– especially Sauron.
He’d begun to melt the chains as soon as they’d been hurled around him, almost without a thought. How does a foe I thought so keen of mind resort to this? His stern face wore only puzzlement as he summoned his red hammer to his hand, pulling it into being out of his own flesh– then the noise began, and his Noldor enemy sprung into practiced action. 

His hammer resists him. There is no magic, no Ainur presence besides himself, but something holds the weapon in the air as firmly as the fist of Tulkas, and his arms strain to bring it even an inch forwards. Red-gold eyes widen. The hammer bends– wilting as if in great heat. It disobeys his will and its solidity dispenses back into liquid potential, coating his skin, but he cannot reabsorb it. His own flesh buzzes with horrendous sound that is more than sound; the pressure without origin twists his feet from under him and he falls sideways into the wall just as surely as if the room had changed its axis. Maedhros looks at him with eyes narrowed in mad, victorious joy– the force that can incapacitate a Maia has no effect on him; he is its master.  

He is frightened. He can hear the song of planets whispering from the disks of metal on the floor and ceiling, but he has never heard this arrangement before. It feels like something he should know, something the matter of his body should hold understanding of, something his Father made. It is new to him who helped shaped everything that is. He is frightened. 

All the power in his muscles will not budge them from their fixed point, the coiling remains of his weapon, and the contorted lattice of metal that were the treacherous chains bind him as surely as shackles, dancing in strange liquid patterns on his skin. He can turn, but not move, twist around only to be repelled, as if the force had some malignant logic behind it. Water flows over the metal and over him, unsettlingly warm and smelling of hot metal. It drips from his face and beard the same temperature as blood, carrying his sweat with it. He does not hear what his enemy says, he does not see the runed ceramic knife until it is under his chin, tracing his sternum.  

“What have you done– what is this? What have you done??” Are all the response he can give to prelude to torture, numb to any threat but the invisible hand that holds him improbably captive. 

There is something singing in Maedhros’ blood, louder and louder with every step he takes towards the warped form of his captive.
It is something far more than the static hum of electricity running through coils of copper and inside the frozen conductors that should not even be conductors at all.
It is something visceral, that reaches deep enough to touch bone and make his chest hum like the strings of a harp at every heartbeat.

Keep reading

When the Noldo’s knife carves a precise triangle into his chest, his attention is bent entirely in frantic anticipation of an answer that never comes. Maedhros is toying with him. The chilling light catches the elf’s eyes like poison… He will not reveal the secret of this prison yet, there is too much satisfaction to be had in making his captive wait. Sauron knows this– this is his game, though he has never played this side of the board before.

But as the circuit is completed, white fire sears him where flesh makes contact with iron, and his mind goes blank. 

Metal has never betrayed him this way before.
The shock of it draws a belated howl from him; it is as if his body is refusing to acknowledge the bite of a loyal hound until its fangs were bloodied thrice over. His delayed screams surprise even him. 

Once, long ago, the maia had felt the gaze of Namo pass over his spirit. It had been cold and hollow, its pull unforgiving. Just beyond the agony of this strange electric fire, he could feel that same chill tug beneath the heat– it feels like dissolution. It feels like the nearest he can come to death.

The interior of his fana twists and pulls violently in opposing directions, his very atoms seem to wish to fly apart, and it is all he can do to hold the repelling forces together with brute strength of will.  It is a small blessing that his jaw locks, for otherwise he would find himself begging through the roar of pain. 
When he has fought in the past it was to maintain advantage; now, all thought is consumed by the urgent need to survive, to hang on, to regain control.

His eyes and flesh glow with the magnitude of this singular effort, unable to maintain the semblance of humanity any longer. Flakes of black oxide and ash peel off his molten skin. The harder he pulls himself in, the hotter the fire within him grows, and the whiter the heat of his frame…

When the core of him burns yellow-white as a furnace, he can feel the terrible power of Maedhros’s machine begin to slip. It gives him enough leverage to wrench himself off the wall, and with a drunken lurch, he takes a threatening step towards his gaoler. 

“Pers… perseverance.”  He hisses, smoke rising from his mouth and body. Waves of heat distort his vision, but he can see well enough to lunge. 

Dear Círdan Nowë,

I am writing to you regarding your spouse and husband, the Maia Ossë, Terrible-One of Ulmo. It has come to my attention that you and he have made a certain agreement, or wager, to be more accurate, involving your spouse’s behavior during this, the twelfth month of the year. It is my understanding that I was at the crux of this wager – though I dare say I was never consulted on the matter!– : Your husband the Maia Ossë was under oath not to speak to me during the prescribed period, on pain of scorn. If, however, he maintained silence towards me successfully, he would be rewarded with a gift, the nature of which has not yet been determined. 

Well, given that you are Eruhini (sagacious and vigilant as you may be!), you are therefore lacking the capacity to monitor your husband’s activities at all times. You no doubt trust that he will simply inform you of all his doings upon the event’s terminus. This he may yet do; I understand you have one another’s utmost confidence. It is true that Ossë gone for thirty days and nights without a single word spoken to me directly! He is to be congratulated on this feat of willpower, as it no doubt taxed him to the extreme. 

However– I, being included regardless of my will in this marital bonding exercise, feel obliged to inform you of a few small but notable instances that your husband may fail to disclose:

1) Upon the first of December, your husband did wittingly and amiably listen to both a song and a poem, of my own writ, in praise of him and the sea. 

2) He then drenched me with seawater and threw a boot at my head– while you may find this amusing, I count it as something of an exchange, a response to my offerings, though not in words. 

3) On the third day of the month, Ossë again wittingly and amiably listened to a a second poem in his praise, making sounds of delight and satisfaction.

4) That same day, your husband accepted a gift of my forging. Having listened to my arguments and finding my logic sound, he sent up a jewelry box into which the item of jewelry was stowed in order that he might give to you later. I believe you have it still: it is a silver hair clasp set with moonstone and pearls. It is harmless and unenchanted, as I have sworn on my hand. 

image

–The back of it is signed, as you can see by this rubbing.– 

5) In exchange for this gift, your husband sent me a most beautiful carven driftwood pendant in the shape of a wolf. I wear it as I write. 

6) This incident may be of the greatest concern to you: On the 13th of December, I set sail aboard the good ship Kraken, piloted by the pirate Ji-Indur, whose acquaintance I believe you have made. 
Upon reaching the open seas, I did change my form into one alike to those of the Oarni, being half whale, half man, and entered the Realm of Uluboz. 
There I was met by your husband and his entourage, and though at first they made great show of threat, soon they were calmed by my offerings of peace and gestures of goodwill. Your husband spoke to me through his servants and through mine. I was given an hour to explore the ocean unhindered. I will cherish the memory of that hour until the end of time! A delightful gift it was your Ossë gave me.  At the hour’s close my servant and I were escorted by your husband back to shore– somewhat roughly in my case. 

7) I perhaps should mention that before I left the sea, your husband and I shared a most intimate and lengthy kiss, into which he bent in passion, allowing me fondle his gills with tongue and finger. 

8) I would be more than happy to share the techniques of gill-stimulation I used that seemed to please your partner so. He seemed in most dire need of real pleasure. Were you unaware this was a form of contact he favored? I suggest you speak with him on the matter. 

That is all I will impart to you at this time, Master Shipwright. I think you and I can both agree that Ossë has kept the letter of his word, if perhaps not the spirit. But it is the season of forgiving, no? If you do indeed reward him for his obedience to you, let him know I treasured our time together while he was most diligently not speaking to me. I feel that in many ways, I have come out of your marital bargain all the richer.


With Sincere and Heartfelt Gratitude,
Lord of the East and Zîgur of the Temple of Freedom

 Sauron. 

image

“Off you go. You know where to deliver it.” 

@theshipwright  @masteroftheseas

“Ji! Get me a boat.”

ji-indur:

masteroftheseas:

misbehavingmaiar:

………

“Still worth it.” 

@masteroftheseas @ji-indur

A ripple appeared in the shadowed shallows, and the smaller of the two Oarni rose from the water. He grasped the handle of his trident in his fist and yanked, freeing it from the rock. His eyes moved over the wounds it had left behind, inspecting his handiwork (and he seemed especially interested in the cut on Sauron’s cheek, near his mouth).

With a chirp of satisfaction, he turned and dove back into the water that still churned and frothed with fury.

@ji-indur @misbehavingmaiar

The wraith could feel how the water grew colder around him but he did not turn back, not willing to risk his existence for a peek at what was going on behind him. He could sense Osse’s anger in every drop of saltwater which only urged the captain of the Kraken onward, towards the safety of the shore. Since he was not certain if the Master of the Seas’ fury would not hit him too all he could do was to swim for his life -or rather unlife- and send silent prayers through the ocean in hopes that he might leave Osse’s domain mostly unscathed. Besides the scratches across his chest and behind, of course.

And then the water started to churn, the force behind it pulling at the hapless wraith’s struggling body as he continued to swim with all the strength he had to not get sucked into the underwater whirl as well. Oh how he regretted his earlier actions now and he knew this would not be the end of this affair. Even if he had -in his mind- followed Sauron’s orders and watched the rope he knew that it’d earn him no medals and no praises, quite the opposite as he had interfered with whatever the Dark Lord had planned to do. Or maybe He had had no plan at all? It didn’t matter in the end as Ji Indur squinted his eyes shut, still swimming as fast as he could until he felt the power of the underwater tornado lessen and in front of himself the water grew brighter again, less and less deep until he was finally able to walk until he stumbled upon the shore and fell there on his knees into the warm soft sand, completely drained.

Before he could turn to look after his ship and crew and see whether the sea was still raging he felt something flew by very close to him, a familiar aura crashing into the cliffs, sending debris and rocks flying everywhere. Ji Indur hastily covered his head, feeling a few pebbles fall onto him as well before everything grew silent again. At first he did not dare to look up but then when he did it did not take him long to realize what had happened. Especially not when one of the sea creatures rose from the waters to retrieve its trident. With a groan he pushed himself to his feet to walk over to where his master’s form had hit the solid rock to see if He would need any help. It did not make his heart feel any lighter to see that the ocean was still in disarray and the Kraken was being moved around like a child’s toy, the crew desperately trying to steer it back to the shore as well to see what had happened to their captain, all of them worried that he might have perished.

And they all knew what would happen to the ship then….

“Master…?”

@misbehavingmaiar @masteroftheseas

After a moment’s blinking to clear the seawater from his vision, the Wraith’s blurry visage stabilized above him, concerned and cautious. 

Sauron groaned. The last of the chittering Oarni vanished into the sea, and he lifted his head to watch him go– it was tempting, SO tempting, to leave the lot of them with a little farewell gift of exploding molten glass, but…

…Why spoil this victory with a petty gesture?

His head sank back against the rocks with a weary squelch. 

Lifting a strand of seaweed off his face, the Dark Lord laughed; starting as a silent tremor in his chest and ending with helpless mirth. “What a day!” he gasped, “What a blistered arse of a day…  Are you still in one piece, Ji?” He rolled his head to better look at his waterlogged servant, a tired smile lingering. “…it would be a great unfairness if you weren’t. I want the pleasure of eviscerating you all to myself.” 

He sighed, closing he eyes and letting the sun dry him while his bones reset themselves. 

“Ji! Get me a boat.”

masteroftheseas:

ji-indur:

Not being able to speak was quite bothersome although in all fairness the wraith was not sure what he even would have said if he could have earned the ability of using words under water. If anything it was maybe for the best, as he was fighting the urge to cover his eyes as he was an unwilling witness to the sudden exchange of intimate gestures even though it was more coming from his master’s side than Osse’s who, everything considered, was quite surprised and not exactly a willing participant as far as Ji Indur could tell. With Sauron pushed back again and the attention returned to the helpless corsair in his grip, the wraith did not anticipate what was to happen next as he tried to make himself understood with sign language, simply to inform the Master of the Seas why he was not letting his tongue fly as usual. 

And then there were suddenly lips over his and his eyes widened as his brain had trouble to fully process what was happening until he felt his lungs fill with air and after he was released once more the captain of the Kraken was just happy that with life he had also lost the ability to blush, pressing hands to his mouth instead so he wouldn’t squander the gift with one carelessly made sound of surprise. Before he could speak however and explain himself and apologize for his intrusion he felt hot glares fall on him, making him squirm uncomfortably in Osse’s grip again. His master’s will, while not as strong as on dry land, was pressing against the back of his mind, pushing it around and there were silent promises of punishments to come for his inability to follow orders given. 

Feeling even smaller than before and strangely meek the wraith knew these were not his own feelings but those forced upon him by a rather furious Sauron who suddenly came closer, so much closer, pushing the hapless corsair out of Osse’s grip, causing the precious gift of oxygen to leave his lungs and mouth in a stream of bubbles and a surprised little noise. Ah so much for explaining himself, the blow powerful enough to make his entire body reverberate, every fiber aching as he was hurled through the water a few arm’s lengths away. If this had happened on dry land he was certain he would have landed near Angmar in a heap of broken bones. Deciding that this would be a good time to maybe bid his farewell after all since -it was all over now, was it not?- he doubted he’d be given another chance to speak, the only thing that stopped him was another kiss given by Sauron to the other Ainur but this time it was a true kiss, fierce and with a heat that almost made the water bubble. Or so Ji Indur would have sworn afterwards. 

….it was also the moment when he knew that whatever would happen next…he should not be anywhere nearby, the wraith starting to swim towards the nearby shore in a desperate determination to not end up the victim of /both/ Maiar’s wrath. No, one punishment would suffice, he had no intention to witness what a furious Osse looked like this close up. 

@misbehavingmaiar @masteroftheseas

Ossë started when Ji was ripped from his loose grasp and he found the hulking form of his cousin in its place. He glared and parted his lips to speak, but hands in his hair and a quicker tongue beat him to it.

In hindsight, he should have interrupted him. He should not have let Sauron speak. He should have batted him away, talked over him, tossed him to shore – anything. Something. But he hadn’t; instead he had stilled with his defiant glare and listened to his cousin’s arguments, his pitiful appeals, his demands, his pleas.

Instead he was captured by a kiss, furious and hungry and desperate, and he had been expecting that. He was surprised only that Sauron had waited so long to stake his claim, the tear of teeth into his lips a burn like forge-bright blades melting into cooling waters, the smell of sizzling flesh escaping with the bubbles of steam that surged from their mouths.

He would have jerked his face away. He would have used his teeth for more than passionate embraces. But at that same instant Sauron ever-so-delicately passed his smoldering fingertips over the intimately sensitive slit of his gills. A squeak escaped him as he froze, tail flickering sharply in a confused, erratic rhythm. It was an overwhelming onslaught of thoughts and feelings: danger, heat, pleasure, cousin, enemy – all blended into one and were lost beneath the warming, fin-curling sensation of sea-cooled flames seeping into every filament, every scale, and deeper still.

If Sauron’s fingers were dangerous, his lips were a promise of a decadent doom. He was so unbelievably gentle, feather light kisses and puffs of smoky breath that he sucked in as though he needed that air to survive. Those horrible fingers found his fin instead and he whined softly through the squeaks that peppered the sea like gasps. And was that the graze of a tongue between his gills?

Ossë’s head rolled back in offering, his eyes burning brighter than the stars as he floated limp against his cousin. The thrumming in Sauron’s chest buzzed through him as well, and he warbled weakly at the vibrations. His tail whipped forward to wind around Sauron’s as he lifted his hand to thread his fingers through the knotted hair nestled at the back of his skull. The warmth was everywhere, it felt like he was boiling, but it was perfection.

He stiffened for just an instant, his shoulder lifting in protest and his head tilting to bump at his cousin’s brow. His grip tightened, claws curling against Sauron’s scalp and scales scraping against the smooth flesh of his tail. It had to stop now – but it felt so decadently good. There it was again, another swipe of a strong, slick, long tongue, and he whined shrilly as he bared his throat once more.

But Sauron would proudly wear this victory. No matter how good it felt, if he allowed his cousin to continue this game (already it had gone too far to escape with all his dignity in tact) he would never outlive the shame of being so wickedly manipulated.

He jerked Sauron’s face from his neck and squeezed with his tail, holding his cousin steady as the waters swirled and surged around them. The confused wildlife darted anxiously around the Ainur as the plant life swayed and churned dangerously beneath. Ossë watched his cousin’s expression, his own set in a furious snarl of rage. A rumble of distant thunder growled on the horizon, and an icy surge of water roared above them as the sea responded to the emotions of its master.

He wanted to speak. To curse his bold actions, to defend his husband’s good name, to wipe that smug, self-satisfied glint from his eyes. But speaking would be the final defeat, the final insult. Biting him would be too easily confused as a passion of another sort, as would any physical contact at this point. Where the water was previously warmed and gentle, it now was wild and cold and dark.

His hand loosened its grip, and his tail unwound its hold. Ossë stared down his cousin and all the previous affection and pity and wary trust was gone, replaced with fury and determination and something else that swirled in an undertone of his eyes and in the soft, mourning song of a whale – until the water spout threw him up, out of the water, and crashing brutally into the rocks along the coast. A trident followed his flight to graze along his throat, a shallow cut along the side of his neck.

In the sea, a trumpet blasted. It was a warning that all mercies had been meted out, and the next intrusion would have fatalities. 

@misbehavingmaiar

………

“Still worth it.” 

@masteroftheseas @ji-indur

“Ji! Get me a boat.”

masteroftheseas:

ji-indur:

misbehavingmaiar:

@masteroftheseas @ji-indur

How did the saying go again about cats and curiosity? Ji indur should have known that there was no gratitude to be had and that his actions would be regarded as foolish at best and upsetting at worst. And Osse did look and sound rather upset as his tail stopped the wraith from swimming further, smacking the corsair harshly in the chest as if to remind him that this was not his realm and that he should not have entered it so lightly. Ah how he wished he could have replied, could have explained himself but without air there was no voice and he ended up grabbed in a very undignified way and dragged along, very much like jetsam in the current. And to feel Osse’s claws against his behind was not a very enjoyable experience. 

As they approached his master who looked so very different in his current form Ji Indur’s heart dropped further into his stomach and he sighed deeply inside his head as Sauron sounded even less pleased that the Master of the Seas had. So all he could do was to endure this treatment, wave his hand with a weak grin and hope that either one would not be mad enough abut his intrusion to punish him. Though he was more worried about losing Osse’s blessing than anything the Dark Lord might be thinking of to remind him that there had been no orders to follow him. 

At least he was allowed to witness what came next this way, as it was as unexpected for him as it seemingly was for Osse and maybe Ji Indur would have enjoyed it more though if he had not felt quite miserable and a bit sorry for himself. The life of a Nazgûl was a hard one he lamented while Osse was given a gesture of gratitude by his cousin. Would this be a change for good in their relationship? If one had asked the pirate to bet on this he would not have accepted it as he was certain it would be a bet he could only lose. But he knew it’d be best to keep his thoughts to himself and as private as possible, since he could not tell how easily they would be read here under water. But he was certain that even with the enjoyment of his little travel Sauron would be up to nothing good another time. 

He really should have stayed on board of the Kraken…

@masteroftheseas @misbehavingmaiar

Warm. He was so warm. It was unnatural, really, in the bitter chill of the sea, but Sauron still radiated heat like the forge he was. His chest was warm where they touched, and his lips were scalding. Ossë stilled at the touch, too stunned to think to push his cousin away. The heat of blood and life was addictive and enchanting, but the heat of another Ainu was overwhelming – it was a heat not just of flesh and body but of soul and song and spirit, and it permeated all the deeper for it.

He lifted his free hand slowly to press against Sauron’s chest with the intent to push him away, but he lingered, the shove only half-hearted in its attempt. It was true that the Children could not compare to another Ainu, and even with his wife and his followers, it was not like the company of a spirit that identified with another element. His eyes slipped shut. It was not so hard to pretend that they were friends, and that this was nothing more than a genuine gesture of affection between kindred spirits. He curled his clawed fingers over the smooth, hot expanse of Sauron’s pectorals, absorbing the moment…

And then he felt Ji Indur shift in the grasp of his other hand and the spell broke. With a swift and strong shove, he easily overpowered his cousin and propelled him away. Cool, familiar waters replaced the heated strength of another fana, and with every eddying swirl the memory of warmth was drawn from his mind. He would not be so quick to forget himself again. His brow still felt warm where lips had lingered however, and as he stared down his cousin he lifted webbed fingers to brush the spot, almost expecting to feel the bubbled scar of burned flesh.

The Oarni moved into a flanking position when their lord clicked sharply, knowing better than to comment on the scene they had just witnessed. Ossë turned himself away and began a slow, leisurely swim, expecting his cousin to follow. He would have preferred to have passed Ji to one of his Maiar and let them handle the escort, but there was still a chance that this underwater meeting was planned and intended for some purpose. He would not leave his guests out of his sight until they were out of his waters.

“I do believe this is the longest I have heard you go without speaking,” Ossë drawled, dipping his head and twisting so his chest was aiming towards the surface. Ji was gently turned with him, suspended over the Ainu nearly eye to eye. “Which is just as unsettling as how talkative my cousin has become in your place. Have you nothing to say about your presence in my waters?”

In reply, the corsair twisted up his face and seemed to be attempting some sort of message by the look in his eyes. He gestured at his chest, then pointed up to his throat and finally his lips.

Ossë blinked and clicked. Then he chattered and chirped in amusement. “Air,” he realized. “Of course, you lack any organs to process it under the water! I forget, sometimes, that at your simplest you are merely a Man.” His gaze drifted above them towards the surface, and aside to his cousin. They could breach for air, but somehow the less Sauron was submerged the more dangerous he seemed; what if this was part of a plan?

So instead he lightly pressed a finger against Ji’s nostrils to cover them, then curled up to press their lips together. He tilted his head to cover the pirate’s mouth entirely as he parted his lips, and his gills moved as he inhaled deeply only to exhale through his mouth to share the bounty.

@misbehavingmaiar @ji-indur

Ah! Too soon, the moment ended, and the sea-maia pulled away, all wariness and vanity. Curse that pirate… curse the weakening of his power over his thrall thrice over! He shot a glare full of ugly promises at the wraith, willing him to remain still and silent and meek for the rest of their journey… all things he knew to be the utmost contrary of Ji’s nature. 

Still, Ossë’s easy curl of fins and slow retreat felt much like an invitation– and an invitation was auspicious. 

He started when his Cousin spoke, thinking at last, perhaps, the silence was broken! But alas, it was the wraith again that stole what was rightfully his. 
Black eyes narrowed with dark threats as Ossë filled Ji’s airless lungs. 

They were near enough to shore now that the sea’s floor was rife with swaying weeds, bright corals home to brighter fish and clicking claws. Sea birds dove and wheeled overhead. There was land in sight, and forests of dappled kelp brushed their sides as they swam. 

The adventure was near over, and yet there was still time for it all to end in ruin should the pirate say something to ruin the mood– rushing forward, he pushed the wraith from Ossë’s grasp, expelling the gifted air from his lungs in a stream of bubbles and a noise of distressed surprise. Before objection could be made, he swung round to face his Cousin’s pearl-strewn visage, banded with light from the surface ripples. 

He slid quick hands around either side of Ossë’s crown amidst a tangle of hair the color of seagrass, bringing their faces close with a hurried whisper. “Mere Man he is, and mere Child is your consort. What have they to do with us? You are great and wild and lovely beyond measure… deal with me, fair Terror. Deal with the Admirable of Auzulez, who has himself admired you since the dawn of time, who sang your praises at dusk! You ruin me with your disdain! You break my twice-broken heart! If you deign to speak to either of us, let it be me! Ossë, Ossë…”

He kissed him, urgent and ungently, breaking the skin on his lip, fingertips drawing open the tender slits at Ossë’s throat, teasing the line of soft filaments he found there. His mouth was quick to follow where fingers lead, and his lips gave sweeter care to the seadweller’s gills than he had to his kisses. He brushed the folds of the delicate fins at his jaw, then, drawing strength from the relative nearness of land, he dared to pull the other maia flush to his wide chest, thrumming a low song of sated greed. 

image

“Ji! Get me a boat.”

masteroftheseas:

ji-indur:

Above the surface a lonely corsair was pacing around tersely on deck of his ship, at times gazing into the depths while biting at his thumb nail. What should he do now? Clearly the push of the waves had been a sign by Osse to not interfere with what was happening down below. But could he just sail away? Leave his master to His fate? 

Oh it would have been the perfect opportunity to retrieve his freedom once and for all. But Ji Indur could not. Not only because he had given Sauron his word but also because the pirate did have a certain amount of honor to keep said word. Even if these circumstances were special he knew he would lose face if he just abandoned the dark lord. It would feel cowardly even. Nay, it was not possible. 

His head and back were still aching from the impact with the sturdy wood of the railing so the wraith decided he could blame it on this if Osse would approach him with anger for his intrusion. Because, all things considered, there was only one option left for him, was there not? 

With a heavy sigh Ji Indur went to drop anchor -hoping it wouldn’t knock out anybody below- before he started to remove some of his clothes until all he was wearing were his breeches and his broad sash, carrying nothing but his kukri even though he felt he should not bring any weapons along at all. But he’d simply claim it’d be to cut Sauron free would he find Him entangled in sea weed or the like. 

Signaling to the rowboats to return to the ship he then stepped on the railing, staring into the spray topped waves for an endless moment. Was he afraid? He could not tell but he felt how tense his body was with growing anxiety as to what he’d find once he had reached his goal. In the end he knew he could not prevent to draw the anger of either Maia towards himself as he finally took the dive, leaping into the water and piercing the surface before swimming into the depths…

@masteroftheseas @misbehavingmaiar

A second splash, a second ripple of unease; if Ainur were capable of headaches, Ossë believed he would be experiencing one then. First Sauron felt the need to harass him in his home, and then the pirate king proved incapable of understanding blatant orders such as shoving his ship full speed towards the shore. No, instead Ji Indur apparently decided he should refuse the offer of safety and swim out to meet two warring Ainur.

Nowë would never have been such an idiot.

Ossë growled low as he reversed direction and swiftly darted through the waters to meet the pirate in a collision course. It was unlikely he could cause any harm, but with his cousin here as well, he would take no risks. If this was some sort of trick, some sort of trap, he would not give them a chance to enact it. In his chase, he swapped fanar, trading his foreign and frightful deep sea face for his fairer mer-form that mimicked his usual shape.

In a blur, he swept past the corsair and stopped his swimming with a bruising swipe of his tail as it curled around him like a snake ensnaring its prey. “Really?” he hissed, his upper body swaying to rest behind the wraith. “I pushed you away to protect you, and your response is to dive into my home armed with a tiny splinter of a knife? What was your plan, pirate king?” he demanded as his torso floated around to face him, gills flaring along his ribs in anger.

His hair billowed out around him as he narrowed his glowing eyes. “I am insulted at the insinuation that I could be so easily bested. But as I do not know Sauron’s intention with you here, you stay with me,” he warned, releasing the wraith from his grasp. But he was not satisfied with leaving Ji Indur free from his sight and hold, so there was only one thing to do as he continued his tasks…

After their note rang out there was stillness and silence. They looked to one another, to their prisoner, and then craned their heads up towards the surface curiously. No response came, either visible or audible or any other form. The two clicked rapidly back and forth in their throats.

“You will come with us,” the smaller one said, motioning with his trident towards Sauron. “Our lord is expecting you.” Which, he realized then, might not have been the choice of words that his lord would have approved. “Well, he is expecting all of us. He is awaiting your exit,” he hastened to add, and he seemed ready to continue if his partner had not swatted his tentacles with the flat side of her spear in warning.

Together the three swam, the escort keeping their pace steady with their charge, until the light of the surface speckled gently onto their flesh from the surface. Up ahead, moving leisurely against the currents, was the massive form of Ossë. And clutched in one webbed hand was the back of the waistband of Ji Indur, who was effortlessly dragged along beneath the Ainu.

@misbehavingmaiar @ji-indur

image

………………..

image

“You–!!”  The maia let loose a frustrated dual-pitched chatter that made the Oarni around him wince. “WHAT do you THINK you are DOING?!?” Sauron cut short a strangling gesture and recomposed himself. 

“I apologize, Cousin, for the wraith. No doubt Ji was simply being overzealous in his duty to provide me safe passage.”  He growled, looking pointedly at the submerged pirate being towed along like a soggy pillow. “I would have informed him that such services were not required, had my means of communication with him not been severely damped by water.” 

He dipped his body in deference. “Terror of the Seas, Master of Tides, might you find it within your beneficence to conduct me, and my servant, back to shore where we belong? I would not wish to strain your hospitality, especially, dear Cousin, since I have had a most rewarding and by all accounts unforgettable experience by visiting you…”

Sauron pulsed through the water gracefully, slowing as he came level to Ossë’s eyes. “From my heart, Ošošai… I will remember this occasion until time furls and shuts. I wish that my Master could have seen what I have seen today… Your realm is beautiful beyond measure, and so art thou. Thank you.” 

image

@masteroftheseas @ji-indur

“Ji! Get me a boat.”

masteroftheseas:

ji-indur:

misbehavingmaiar:

“Thank you, Cousin.” Sauron bowed as best he could while floating. “You make me a happy maia this day–”  
Oarni shot past him in a flurry of grim-faced precision, and he watched as they cut away his line of support and stripped him of defenses. This did not surprise him, and though the lack of his anchor rope gave him pause, it was not until he saw Ossë push the wraith’s ship groaning backwards across the water (just a flick of his wrist, a tilt of his pearl-laden head, and the mass of the sea did his bidding!) that he felt his stomach shrivel. 

Ji would not know what had occurred beneath the waves, and his last means of escape was gone– gone! 

He swallowed dry and shook his head, long curls drifting in eddies around his shoulders. This was no time to panic. His first and best line of defense had always been his words, and he was not, after all, entirely helpless. There was peace for the moment. He did not plan to disturb it– he was aware how fragile it was. 

“Thank you.” He said again, sincerely, meeting Ossë’s eyes. “You are generous, and I, humbled. I will make the most of my hour, if I can but learn to move…” He smiled with a hopeful crook of his lips, and kicked his finned legs in excitement, surging forwards too boldly and making his guards flare in warning. “Easy, my friends. I am only experimenting… You make this look effortless and I am not hardly so nimble yet!” 

In demonstration he swam a small circle around the guarded waters, testing the balance of his new muscles, completing the circuit by turning a backwards swoop with a pointed grin. “Happily, I am a swift learner.” 

The high-contrast planes of his skin gleamed as he swam and twisted, facing every point of the compass is seemed with increasing pleasure, his maia’s eyes piercing far into the ocean realm.

“Ossë, Ossë! I hardly know where to begin! What are these square-headed creatures called, with wings and tails that seem to eat only water as they fly? What are those, riding the shark’s back? I saw a huge spotted monster with a gaping maw that no fish seemed to fear– why? I have too many questions, I cannot choose what to examine first!” He beamed. “Come with me?” 

@ji-indur  @masteroftheseas

Ji Indur had kept his eyes on the water all the time, on the spot where his master had dove into the deep blue sea and had disappeared into the depths. The maelstrom had grown less in power and with the ship no longer being whirled about he finally dared to leave the helm to hurry down to the railing where the rope and everything affixed to it was dangling over board just to vanish in the darkness below as well. He could still make out one or two of the glass baubles, still unsure about the use of them as he knew that the Maia did not need air like a secondborn did. 

Clutching the ornament wood he kept peering down, red eyes trying to pierce the inky blackness that grew a few feet down but he could see naught- neither the Maiar nor anything else that would be useful to him. Was this the final calm before the storm would break loose? Before a true battle would begin? He hardly noticed how tense his body was, jaw muscles showing as he gritted his teeth. What should he do? Diving after Sauron would most likely do nothing to aid the Maia and most likely he’d only end up between the battling parties. He could not fight under water and to anger Osse would be not in his interest either by taking his master’s side. But just waiting up here until the rope was pulled? Could he truly lift Him then when both were raging?

Then he found the rope suddenly moving and clutched it hastily, hoping for a sign that the Dark Lord had decided to return to the ship. But there was no pull so the wraith worried what the movement had meant, deciding to tug after all. To his confusion and the utter shock he found the rope so much lighter -too light- and he continued to motion in a sudden worry just to find it cut after a third way down, But before he could fully process the meaning of it the sea suddenly reared up as if the waves were bucking wild horses, the corsair ending up tumbling back and across deck before hitting the other side of the railing. The Kraken groaned and creaked under the the onslaught of the water and tilted a bit to the side even as it was pushed away and Ji Indur had to cling to the railing or else he would have landed in the water as well. 

As the ship was forced away the wraith tried to gather his senses, his head and body aching where he had hit the wood, trying to stand again and halt the vessel. Should he return to the spot? Aye, it was clear that the Master of the Sea wanted him to leave but he was bound by his promise to Sauron….

@misbehavingmaiar @masteroftheseas

Ossë could not hold back the light chitter of amusement at Sauron’s first attempts to swim. His Oarni were so quick to assume the worst, and yet he knew that clumsy feeling well. It was hard to stay stern and distant when his cousin was drifting helplessly, but he hid his slip of emotion swiftly. No need to give Sauron extra ammunition.

Was it a very clever ploy or genuine interest that lit up those contrasted features? The rapidly fired questions were not unlike the eager demands of an Elfling going for its first boat ride, peering over the edge to watch the world soar past, fascinated and innocent and thrilled. Ossë’s countenance softened as he watched his cousin spin eagerly. If it was a ploy, it was a very convincing one.

He nodded to his Oarni with a sharp dip of his chin, then launched forward to easily brush past his cousin with a whip of his fins, gliding effortlessly ahead and below to continue his own work. If this was a very convincing ploy, he would not allow himself to be made a fool so easily.

“Our lord has other tasks that demand his attention,” the smaller of the Oarni answered as Ossë’s glow dimmed in distant shadows. “but we can guide your tour just as well. Perhaps you should like to meet the sidirziqtu? The ‘square-headed fliers’, as you identified them.” His large, pale eyes glanced briefly at the Maia before peering out at the distant rays.

@misbehavingmaiar

Ossë’s smooth scales brushed him as passed in a blur of iridescence and sinew, leaving him with an impression of both brutal strength and the pliant softness of aquatic flesh. The pressure of a collapsing vacuum made Sauron’s ears pop uncomfortably, and he found himself making a clicking whine of protest in his cousin’s wake– a startling sound he’d never made before. 

“Ososai–!” But he was gone, a vanishing glimmer in the sea. 

Well. That was that.  But he had an hour in a new kingdom he had never set foot– or fin, in before. He mouthed the word “sidirziqtu” with savor. 

As he and his entourage of wary Oarni drew nearer the serene winged creatures, he recognized them as larger versions of the rays that were often sold in Adunaic fish markets  That, he realized, was the extent of his marine knowledge– what he had seen brought up in nets, beached on the shore, or spied from the land. And there was so much more to be seen!

Every crevice, every rock and ledge, was colonized by something enterprising. Even on the floor of the bottommost sea trench, there were vents that supported a host of brightly-colored organisms that thrived on the boiling heat and microscopic nutrients. There were indescribable horrors drifting in the layers of darkness beneath, all eyes and teeth and tendrils of self-made light. 

He thought of his Master then, how Melkor would have appreciated the tenacity of life here. Sauron swam ahead alone through a divide in a deep sea cliff, watching yellow-green eels curling through soft drifting weeds, hearing the resonating song of behemoths miles away.  What a sad music they made, being ages old… 

On a whim he dove far down, down to the seabed to examine a sunken wreck. It intrigued him, seeing what portions the sea had reclaimed, and which had survived untouched by time. 

“How much remains of the ruins of Beleriand, I wonder… What submerged forests and drowned citadels are home now to new life.” He mused aloud, running his hands over an ancient bronze chain. “I wish I had time to see it.” 

Together, the dark-eyed Oarni raised a call, thrumming a single note in unison amid a veil of bubbles.  The hour was up. 

@masteroftheseas @ji-indur

“Ji! Get me a boat.”

masteroftheseas:

misbehavingmaiar:

Carefully, Sauron lowered his hands, making no swift gestures that could be viewed as a threat. He undid the sash at his waist, letting it and the daggers sink glittering into the darkness. Then he reached to his throat, where a small driftwood carving of a wolf hung.

“I have known enchantment for the sea
for coasts of citrine, emerald, lazuli,
in the countless bounty millions reap, 
and in terror of the deep.”  The dark lord repeated the rhyme he’d crafted, setting to a slow melody in his orotund voice. “Ošošai, will you swim with me? Will you teach me how?” His eyes were pleading, though black as volcanic glass. “It has been so long since I had the companionship of my own kind. The Eruhini… they do not see or love as we do. We are not like them.” 

The spears of the Oarni bristled as he haltingly swam forward, away from his tether. He was already less clumsy in the water, though tentative; his form was sleek and balanced, made for power and speed in equal measure. He held his webbed hands spread. 

“Let me accompany you for an hour, traipsing the whale-roads together– In silence if you choose! This would be your gift to me… I would ask nothing else of you for all time. Ošošai, Terror: I beg your leave to swim with you.” 

@masteroftheseas​ 

Ossë clicked twice as the daggers sunk and one of the summoned Oarni, black and gold in color, curled in on herself to dive after the falling treasures. It would not do to grow lax – every movement of his cousin might have hidden meaning. Those daggers would be studied and tossed ashore somewhere out of harm’s way.

That necklace! Ossë finally showed a reaction, eyes focused on that carving as Sauron’s fingers brushed it and his song stretched through the cacophony of the angry sea. It was a jarring clash, and yet it did not upset him as much as he felt it should. Again he spoke words that felt drawn from his own mind and Ossë’s fingers tightened on his horn anxiously.

His guards all bristled and drew in at the approach, ready to defend a lord that didn’t need defending. As though waking from a spell, he swiveled and turned his back to his audience, forcing distance between them. Ossë swam slowly, long tail swaying serpentine through the dark waters as he paced deeper into the blackness of his home. The Song enveloped him once more. As much as he heard not to trust Sauron’s honeyed words and gallant gestures, it was difficult to listen to those worried warnings when his cousin was actually with him. Despite their opposing natures, they had always managed to get along privately… 

The patterns of bioluminescence swirled and dotted the depths when he turned to face his cousin once more, eyes bright spots connecting the lines dancing over his fana. A series of short, sharp clicks pierced the currents and another of his Oarni darted away to cut the rope and drag the baubles away for inspection. Two more – one whose fana was inspired by the vampire squid, with huge eyes that glinted back the light reflected from it and its lower half all webbed limbs that coiled and curled and blossomed as he moved; the other inspired by the Sargassum Angler with a body of white lined with intricate gold patterns and speckled with dots like stars that twinkled and glowed – flanked the outsider with weapons pointedly held.

“You will accompany him,” Ossë spoke for the benefit of his cousin, “as he tests his fana and explores the wildlife we protect. He will have his hour. If he takes any action deemed threatening, you are authorized to use force. My gaze will be on him as well,” he warned, looking at Sauron directly before he swiveled and slid smoothly past to approach the Kraken. With no visible effort, he swelled the seas to push the ship back the way it had come.

@ji-indur

“Thank you, Cousin.” Sauron bowed as best he could while floating. “You make me a happy maia this day–”  
Oarni shot past him in a flurry of grim-faced precision, and he watched as they cut away his line of support and stripped him of defenses. This did not surprise him, and though the lack of his anchor rope gave him pause, it was not until he saw Ossë push the wraith’s ship groaning backwards across the water (just a flick of his wrist, a tilt of his pearl-laden head, and the mass of the sea did his bidding!) that he felt his stomach shrivel. 

Ji would not know what had occurred beneath the waves, and his last means of escape was gone– gone! 

He swallowed dry and shook his head, long curls drifting in eddies around his shoulders. This was no time to panic. His first and best line of defense had always been his words, and he was not, after all, entirely helpless. There was peace for the moment. He did not plan to disturb it– he was aware how fragile it was. 

“Thank you.” He said again, sincerely, meeting Ossë’s eyes. “You are generous, and I, humbled. I will make the most of my hour, if I can but learn to move…” He smiled with a hopeful crook of his lips, and kicked his finned legs in excitement, surging forwards too boldly and making his guards flare in warning. “Easy, my friends. I am only experimenting… You make this look effortless and I am not hardly so nimble yet!” 

In demonstration he swam a small circle around the guarded waters, testing the balance of his new muscles, completing the circuit by turning a backwards swoop with a pointed grin. “Happily, I am a swift learner.” 

The high-contrast planes of his skin gleamed as he swam and twisted, facing every point of the compass is seemed with increasing pleasure, his maia’s eyes piercing far into the ocean realm.

“Ossë, Ossë! I hardly know where to begin! What are these square-headed creatures called, with wings and tails that seem to eat only water as they fly? What are those, riding the shark’s back? I saw a huge spotted monster with a gaping maw that no fish seemed to fear– why? I have too many questions, I cannot choose what to examine first!” He beamed. “Come with me?” 

@ji-indur  @masteroftheseas

“Ji! Get me a boat.”

masteroftheseas:

ji-indur:

misbehavingmaiar:

“I see. So this is all you have for me, Cousin? A threat of battle and a call to arms?”  The dark maia frowned, a hollowness replacing excitement.

“I came here with the hope of truce. I brought weapons only because I do not know what terrors lurk here and how bold they might be.” His brow knit. “I wanted to swim with you, Ossë. This was meant to be a gift– like the serenades. Do you truly believe I would go this far only to tease you? To rob you of your lover’s bargain? I am… I would sink here and now if I let free this rope! I am helpless in your waters. You know I am! Why would I come here seeking war in this shape? You do not have to speak to me. You need not compromise your word. Only let me pretend for a moment that we are not enemies, that the world is ours to explore.  Ossë… please.”

@masteroftheseas

Whatever was happening underneath the surface, Ji Indur could tell that the Master of the Seas was not exactly welcoming the other Maia with open arms. Quite the opposite guessing from the way the water kept swirling. When the sound of the conch breached the waves it made the wraith shiver inside, hands clutching the wheel even tighter as he did not know what to do. He could not rush to the rope and abandon his spot on the helm as it would leave the ship without a hand to guide it. But if he remained up here he would miss any signals his master might be sending him already now and he might miss the one telling him to pull him back up to the surface. 

It never occurred to the corsair as the events started unfolding that he had no idea what Sauron’s fate would be if he would either be unable to rescue him or decide to abandon him to save his ship and himself. Could a Maia drown? He did not know and maybe it was best for him that he didn’t. Already now he had been forced to pick sides and as the whirling waters started to move the ship even with his struggles to keep it on a steady course he knew that maybe this was the one time when even Osse’s blessing would not keep his sheep afloat. 

It reminded him of the maelstrom he had face a century back and it had not been an experience he had wanted to relive. And yet here he was, with his master clinging to a rope that was still attached to the vessel that seemed like a little rowboat now as the elements played with it with ease. Ah if only he could catch a glimpse of what was happening down below. For a moment he considered jumping after the Dark Lord but…then what? What would he do once he found them? And even if he could not drown, his body would most likely be crushed by the pressure of the depths. So he had to ride the waves and hope for the best possible outcome. 

@misbehavingmaiar @masteroftheseas

The problem, as always, was that Sauron knew too well how to speak to him. He knew too well how to reason with him. It was as though his cousin could see into his own mind to voice his doubts for him. After all, Sauron was certainly too clever to think he could best Ossë in his own element. He would not come this far to meet his own demise.

But there had to be something in it for him. … perhaps he truly was lonely? It was plausible. But this was the first time he had ever dared to enter the waters by choice, so there had to be another reason. Perhaps he was setting his stage for another day.

The waters slowed but did not cease, allowing some freedom of movement but retaining the promise that they could accelerate whenever they chose. Shadows in the water emerged and formed wary Oarni with spears and tritons, circling with all the elegant promise of any predator, awaiting their lord’s command.

@misbehavingmaiar

Carefully, Sauron lowered his hands, making no swift gestures that could be viewed as a threat. He undid the sash at his waist, letting it and the daggers sink glittering into the darkness. Then he reached to his throat, where a small driftwood carving of a wolf hung.

“I have known enchantment for the sea
for coasts of citrine, emerald, lazuli,
in the countless bounty millions reap, 
and in terror of the deep.”  The dark lord repeated the rhyme he’d crafted, setting to a slow melody in his orotund voice. “Ošošai, will you swim with me? Will you teach me how?” His eyes were pleading, though black as volcanic glass. “It has been so long since I had the companionship of my own kind. The Eruhini… they do not see or love as we do. We are not like them.” 

The spears of the Oarni bristled as he haltingly swam forward, away from his tether. He was already less clumsy in the water, though tentative; his form was sleek and balanced, made for power and speed in equal measure. He held his webbed hands spread. 

“Let me accompany you for an hour, traipsing the whale-roads together– In silence if you choose! This would be your gift to me… I would ask nothing else of you for all time. Ošošai, Terror: I beg your leave to swim with you.” 

@masteroftheseas​ 

“Ji! Get me a boat.”

masteroftheseas:

misbehavingmaiar:

How cold it was! 

The shock of it paralyzed him as the water enclosed his body. Even the frigid north, with the high winds of the Helcaraxë had not troubled him, but here the water drowned him like a quenched blade from the forge; he felt the boil of steam and bubbles roll off his skin.

For an instant he panicked, spine arching tense with cold, and he fought to regain the surface, finding himself plummeting rather than floating. But there was the rope, the lifeline he’d prepared, and he grasped it in desperation until he could muster his courage. 

He pulled down the great coils until the first of the buoys was within reach. A maia did not need to breathe– that at least was not a concern. The air the baubles contained was for the purpose of defense, which he hoped would not be necessary, but their presence (and their buoyancy) calmed him. And once calm, he was overtaken with awe. 

This was Ossë’s realm. 

To mortal eyes, even the clear sea became impenetrable in its vastness; light itself could not pierce the veil of depth that hid the world beneath. But Sauron saw; his sight which was more than sight took in both the miles of emptiness and the seething life within. His eyes glowed like lamp beacons in the azure deep.

In every direction their lay a new fascination. Clouds of silver fish flashing in unison, moving as though a smoke billow had gained a governing mind (and had he not seen flocks of birds evade falcons thus? How strange the friendship between Manwë and Ulmo!); sail-backed fish of incredible speed lunging into the swirl of prey, and behind them great titans of maw and teeth circling languidly;  delicate and glowing nodes of translucent poison, pulsing and feeding and populating by some whim of nature unseen; in the graveyard of the seabed, carcasses of sunken behemoths squirming with eels, their greying flesh gnawed clean to the bone– and there! There, far to the north, he spied something familiar. 

Ah. He’d been hoping they’d be within the reach of his gaze… Black and white hunters, sea-wolves roaming in packs, cruel and laughing and clever. 

Sauron had seen the bones and slaughtered remains of cetaceans; he had seen them beached and rotted on the black-rocked shores. At times he had even spied them breeching the ice and pulling hapless beasts to their death– but he had never seen them here, seen them flying, rejoicing in their own power under the waves, and this gave him an idea. There was much he could do that would immensely improve his visit…

Keenly he observed their construction, the mechanics of their bodies and the method of their propulsion. He had copied them before, crudely; his design based on partial understanding and mere aesthetic. Now his failures became clear, and so too the way forward to a more perfect construction. 

All this he witnessed as though in a dream wherein seconds move as slowly as hours– but now he woke, and as he began to shift the atoms of his body into a more streamlined and inhuman shape, Sauron felt the sea change. 

The darting silver fish and their hunters fled. The azure swells darkened to the grey of storms. The current, once predictable, stilled ominously, and then it veered, gaining unnatural momentum as it turned a vulture’s circle. It began to pull– down, down, insistent, slow, inexorable. 
Sauron wrapped the moored rope around one fist– now a sleek, shining obsidian. He surged upward against the vortex with his new, powerful finned legs, and turned to face the wild eyes of Ossë. 

“Cousin!” The maia spread smooth muscled, white-on-black arms in greeting, his voice echoing as music over the roar of the water. “You are very much earlier than I expected! I had hoped to spare you my first unlovely attempts at swimming.” He grinned, needle-toothed. “The sea! It is a fierce, beautiful thing! I had guessed but I dared not imagine! You are right to covet it– but as you would not describe its wonders to me, I had to see it for myself! You would not come to me, so I have come to you!” 

His smile was broad but it faltered as the current threatened to wrench him off the now-taut line, anchored to its unsinkable craft above. 

“Please, Cousin, I meant no harm coming here. Where is your hospitality?”

@masteroftheseas  @ji-indur

On other days, in other contexts, Ossë’s attention would have been diverted by the changed fana of his cousin. His gaze would have wandered to appreciate the imitation of his home and he would have allowed honeyed words to soothe any temper that had been boiling. But on that day and in that context, his gaze was bright and steady, like a beacon on the coast.

Sauron’s honeyed words were kind – and for just an instant, Ossë wondered if perhaps his reaction had been too fierce. After all, the seas were magnificent beyond comprehension. They were an entire world of their own, so uniquely separate from land-dwellers, mirroring their existence but enhancing it. Could he fault anyone for wishing to understand and know what other Songs there were? But then his cousin made his plea.

Words were not necessary for his mind to be expressed as he rumbled like a crashing wave overhead and idly flicked his fins in agitation. Hospitality! If he had entered the deepest halls of Angband and been found, would Sauron have treated him with his wretched hospitality? Would he have believed that the visit was purely one of wonder and friendly interest with no hidden agenda for the Aratar? A fool Ossë may be considered, but he was created to be a defender and a destroyer – he would not be distracted from pursuing his course.

One quick review was all he needed to know that Sauron was as unstable in those fins as Ossë ever was with legs. Creating the correct musculature was only one part of the problem, and he was not going to give his cousin time to perfect the other half.

He lifted the conch he always carried and rarely touched from his waist. It was as large as a man’s head but fit easily in the sea-master’s hand. His gills flared with an inhale that came out in a long, low, steady buzz through the spire. Its song pierced the chorus of the ocean and drowned the call of any voices, and even on the surface it could be heard as an eerie droning thrum from the heart of the faint-but-growing-whirlpool.

It was a call to war. The swirling waters did not slow, but they did not increase, holding steady in their prison. If Sauron sought mercy, this was what he would find:  the chance to surrender and flee.

@ji-indur

“I see. So this is all you have for me, Cousin? A threat of battle and a call to arms?”  The dark maia frowned, a hollowness replacing excitement.

“I came here with the hope of truce. I brought weapons only because I do not know what terrors lurk here and how bold they might be.” His brow knit. “I wanted to swim with you, Ossë. This was meant to be a gift– like the serenades. Do you truly believe I would go this far only to tease you? To rob you of your lover’s bargain? I am… I would sink here and now if I let free this rope! I am helpless in your waters. You know I am! Why would I come here seeking war in this shape? You do not have to speak to me. You need not compromise your word. Only let me pretend for a moment that we are not enemies, that the world is ours to explore.  Ossë… please.”

@masteroftheseas

“Ji! Get me a boat.”

ji-indur:

It
seemed that the wind favored them today as the Kraken made ways
through the dark blue water, away from the cliffs and the shores,
away from the rowboats that were waiting in the distance. Ji Indur’s
crew was not sure what might take place out there and they all felt
the tension rise as the ship finally came to a halt and the anchor
was dropped. What would occur next? And what would happen if the
captain’s master would invoke the fury of the Master of the Seas?
Would Osse take back his blessing and sink the mighty vessel that had
carried them through storms for centuries? If Ji Indur shared their
worries he did not show it, simply following his master’s orders as
the Dark Lord started to work with the items the men had brought on
deck for him.

With
every piece attached to the length of sturdy rope Ji Indur grew more
restless but he did not dare to interrupt the Maia with curious
questions. Even if Sauron would reply to him, he doubted he’d
understand his reasons any better. All he knew was that he was
trapped here between two of the Ainur and if a fight would take place
he was expected to take sides. And since the ring bound him to his
master there was only one side he could truly pick if he did not want
to greet the Void by the end of this day.

Trying
to keep his thoughts guarded so that the Dark Lord would not notice
his iternal struggle -even if he was aware that Sauron most likely
already knew of it- he watched the hook, rope and the glass baubles
attached to it sink into the blue sea. Stepping down from the helm he
silently approached his master as he looked over the net the men had
brought. Could He tell that it was connected to Círdan? If so then
would it strike Him as a really amusing coincidence as He was
preparing Himself to meet his cousin? And yet Ji Indur still wondered
how this meeting would happen. In Umbar he would have invited his
enemy to share tea or kahve with him. And then sought a way to either
draw him to his side or dispose of him. In a friendly and fast manner
of course.

As
Sauron undressed and His intentions were made clear as day, the
wraith found himself hold his breath, even though he did not even
need to breathe anymore, hands and fingers twitching as the
aforementioned tension rose. With final orders given, all the corsair
could do was to nod and bow his head, watching his master climb the
railing and then leap into the water -and quite gracefully so, Ji
Indur noted- which then swallowed him down easily.

Staring
into the depths, eyes following the length of the rope as far as
possible the captain of the Kraken had one hand on it as he waited
for whatever sign he’d be given first. It came as no surprise that it
was Osse who made himself known as the waters grew darker and the
ship started to sway and move. He was needed to stay by the rope but
as the vessel begun to rotate he knew he had to halt the motion or
else the rope might get tangled up or even tangle up the one who
intended to use it. Hurrying to the helm he tried to steady the
Kraken, a tremble running through Ji Indur’s entire body as his red
eyes still stared at the spot where Sauron had disappeared into the
domain of the Master of the Seas.

@misbehavingmaiar @masteroftheseas

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