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    Summary

    “This all sounds delightfully convenient for the tale you wish me to believe. But I need proof.”

    “Proof?” she wondered aloud.

    “Of your intent,” he smirked. “Kiss me.”

    Galadriel continued to meet his gaze, defiant and enduring. “A true king would court his chosen queen first.”

    “Have I not courted you for years now, Elf?” Sauron trailed two fingers over her cheek, pressed them gently at the hinge of her jaw.  “Ah I see,” he added, observing every small change in her expression. “You desire the man. Let it never be said that I would deny you, my queen.”

     
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    OR -

    Have you ever kissed you enemy so hard you end up trapped together in a mind-labyrinth?

    Written for the 2026 Haladriel fic exchange.

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