TheLightofArwyn
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A Feast of Starlight by TheLightofArwyn
Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (TV 2022), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
26 Nov 2022
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"And some hold that this was not at first falsely done, but that Sauron in truth repented." - The Silmarillion, Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age
For what force can change both men and immortal, but rather the unbroken love of another. If light is allowed to touch darkness. An AU of the Second Age
Lies. Lies. If only they were not lies to taste bitter and cold in the mouth.
And yet…
And yet…would she believe…
Galadriel’s gaze dropped to his mouth. To the seam of lips that had orated such falsehoods, such promises, such lies and truth. His hand still at her cheek pulled - ever so gently - for she could banish him if she wished. If she could remember all the sins of his making. All the shadows from which his ruin would spread. The darkness that was the making of her enemy.
And yet…
“Galadriel…”
Her name puffed over her mouth. Sauron would claim it and everything if just -
Chapter 5 - The Light in the Tower
Sauron and Isildur return to a world ruined by ash and fire, Elrond meets with new allies and Galadriel calls Sauron once more to her dreams. -
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#FFXIVWrite2021 collection - Table of Contents in Ch. 1
day #29 Abstracted (noun), 1. : withdrawn in mind : inattentive to one's surroundings
It was raspy and hoarse at first, but with each word it grew into velvet. Memories and reflections of what he had been before the Tower doors shut between them and yet - when the tears tangled in her lashes and spilled onto her cheeks; when she threw herself upon him, tucked tight into the embrace of his waiting arms, his laugh was just as it always was.What it had been. What it was.
Her Raha.
Kalea waits for him to wake up on the Source.
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His name was mumbled on her lips as she slipped off into restless sleep. For this was his tower. And yet he was lost to her. As lost as the day she sobbed his name into crystal and the unbreakable fortress of glass. When she’d let him go because she understood…and yet, knowing she would never be the same. The taste of him on her mouth was both bliss and ash. Desperate to feel it again.
And that night…she dreamed of him.
Hot. Everything was so hot. She wondered if she might burn alive, the pyre a welling rush from inside her breast. His mouth was everywhere. Pressing kisses to places no one else had ever touched. Her name a whispered prayer through his lips. His fingers tangling in her long hair.
“…I’ve missed you,” he breathed. Leaning over her to puff the words over her swollen lips. “Wicked White, how I’ve missed you so much…”
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“You are vile,” she bit out. Dropped emphasis on each word. The facets of her own plastered smile cracked like crystal. She felt the pads of his fingers tighten again to her waist.“And yet, what is this flush about your skin? Such a heady, heavy concoction. The Huntress should deserve to partake in the lapped drink of prey. To be made…subservient after the chase. However, tis the pity. For…” he leaned down and his mouth brushed the curve of her ear. “You also smell like that cat.”
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