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"Why do you force me so?" growled Sauron, fingers clenched in Celebrimbor's hair, pulling his head back – arching his neck unnaturally. "Why must you always resist?"
"To give in would be far worse," Celebrimbor choked – tensed throat twitching, eyes welling with tears, visible even at this distance. "I will not give you the rings."
Elrond opened his mouth to debate, to divert, to soothe – and instead gasped as his orc captor shoved him another step into the room, almost sending him down to his knees.
"Ah, Elrond, you're just in time," purred Sauron, all sharpness slipping beneath the surface without so much as a splash, fist gripping Celebrimbor still. "Have you come to rescue your friend?"
Elrond swallowed, straightening, righting himself as best he could with battle still smudged across his cheeks. "Yes, if you will agree to release him," he said, with his most diplomatic tone – he doubted such a negotiation was possible, not with Sauron, but he had long found the best starting position was politeness.
Sauron chuckled, smooth and hollow. "Such a gentle proposition. What do you intend to offer in return? Yourself? An equal substitution?"
Stomach clenching, Elrond gazed at Celebrimbor's wide, wet eyes – at the horror smeared across his face, at the tremble in his stained limbs. Elrond inhaled a halting breath. "Would you agree to such a trade?"
"No," croaked Celebrimbor, arching in Sauron's harsh grasp. "Whatever your plans are, they are for me. Let Elrond go free."
A slow grin spread across Sauron's mouth, wildfire igniting in his cold eyes. "How sweet you are. Both trying to sacrifice yourselves. How should I ever decide which is more worthy?" He eased Celebrimbor's head to a more natural position, still standing threateningly close. "Perhaps I shall let you both go free."
Elrond knew there was some falsity at play, yet his heart leaped anyhow.
"Leave us," Sauron commanded the orc, then added as Elrond's captor turned, "and you, Elrond, come here."
"Elrond, do not," begged Celebrimbor, smudged and restrained but still defiant. "It will be a trick."
"I know," agreed Elrond, and strode across the forge floor regardless, keeping his gait even as he could.
"You judge me unfairly," declared Sauron, with some air of wounded pride, feigned or otherwise. "But I shall show you the true measure of me, and treat you fairly in return. Yes, you shall both go free. If Elrond will agree to share in your punishment."
Elrond's stomach sank, but he could not abandon Celebrimbor to this, could not abandon his friend, his – "Yes. I will."
"No," breathed Celebrimbor, writhing against Sauron's hand upon his shoulder.
"I did not ask you," hissed Sauron, pressing his face close, then retreating to a smile. "And Elrond has already answered."
Celebrimbor whimpered; Elrond swallowed again. "What tortures have you inflicted? What am I to join?"
"Oh, none yet," murmured Sauron, though the weary horror and worn dirt upon Celebrimbor's face said otherwise. "But you shall take my place within this next act."
Elrond shivered. "You desire me to hurt him?"
"No, no," Sauron said, eyes flashing. "You are to fuck him."
Elrond inhaled sharply, but that cold air could not keep him afloat as the world dropped out beneath him. His knees almost buckled, vision misting for a moment.
"No," protested Celebrimbor, writhing again. "I will take the whole measure. Let Elrond have no part in this."
"But he is here," Sauron sighed, fingers stroking down Celebrimbor's spine. "He is part of this. And this is how you may purchase both your lives. Do this, and I shall allow you both to go in peace. I promise."
"Celebrimbor," croaked Elrond, tenderness a sharp ache behind his ribs. "I risked myself to save you. Battled through the siege to reach you. Do not say this is too far, too different. If I... If I must..."
For once, words failed Elrond; he could not quite bring himself to say it, to speak this twisted version of something he had imagined sweet whispers of...
"Elrond," breathed Celebrimbor, eyes wide, fingers twitching, and Elrond reached across to clasp them.
"You would rather it was me," murmured Elrond, squeezing that touch, "would you not?"
Celebrimbor made no reply but the taut bob of his throat.
"There," said Sauron, as casually as if discussing picnic arrangements. "Both of you undress, so we may proceed."
Elrond caught Celebrimbor's gaze again, some jolt of sympathy flashing between them, a private exchange in the silence of the ruined forge. Perhaps they could have turned their alliance to combat – fought Sauron, overcome him, fled the room – and escaped into the ruins of Eregion, still filled with raging orcs, half turned to Sauron's cause and half yet aligned with Adar –
"Do not think of it," Sauron said, as Celebrimbor shifted – and Celebrimbor froze, some slight panic in his eyes as his body tensed, locked in place by that command alone – "I told you to undress."
And Celebrimbor exhaled, whimpered almost as he sagged, Sauron's unnatural hold released – and Elrond realised his friend could not run. There was no escape for him but any bargain offered. But this bargain.
Urging a faint and fragile smile onto his mouth, Elrond began to divest himself, to peel away the layers of his dirtied armour, of the sweat-stained shift beneath. Celebrimbor trembled for a moment, then did the same – slipping his robes off and down, exposing an expanse of pale flesh, unmarked but for a few bruises – though Elrond was careful to keep his gaze upon his friend's face, for any hopes he'd had before involved no forced revelation such as this.
Sauron sighed and scuffed his boot along the sooty floor. "Here, then, both of you," he said, and turned away, rifling through some pile of half-ruined objects.
Elrond and Celebrimbor exchanged glances, still standing when Sauron returned, a leaking bottle in his hand.
"Did I not tell you to arrange yourselves?" Sauron demanded, a sudden fury thundering through the forge, free hand pointing at his boot's mark.
"I would do so," Elrond ventured, voice cracking and heart clenching, "only I do not..."
Sauron stared at him, then at Celebrimbor, equally dumbfounded.
"Both of you, untouched?" muttered Sauron, brows rising. "Untouched, truly? And here I always thought the pair of you... But no matter. I may admit when I am mistaken."
"I am aware of the... mechanics," croaked Celebrimbor, and Elrond kept his eyes still upon that smudged but comforting face. "But if you expect a specific arrangement, you will have to instruct."
Sauron tilted his head, half disdain, half glee. "Lie on your back, legs parted," he said, gesturing to Celebrimbor, then to Elrond, "and you, kneel between his thighs."
The two of them obeyed, a tremble rippling through Celebrimbor's limbs that mirrored the patter of Elrond's heart. Settling himself on that hard and dusty floor, so close to his close friend, Elrond could no longer avoid the sight he'd been avoiding: Celebrimbor spread before him, utterly exposed, from his blood-smudged collarbones down to his softly nestled cock. Still Elrond fixed his gaze on those grey eyes, offering both reassurance and apology.
Sauron weighed the cracked vessel in his hand. "I suppose I will have to prepare him."
"I will do it," Elrond said quickly, fearing Sauron's cold touch upon his friend. "If... If you will instruct."
Sauron chuckled, prising open the lid and pouring a little of the remaining oil into Elrond's hand – once intended for polishing finished steel, now turned to the forging of some horrid act. "Press your fingers inside him and spread the oil around. Start with one and work your way up."
Elrond swallowed, glancing at Celebrimbor's face – now resigned, still trembling – and then hesitantly reached between his legs, to that puckered ring, breath shuddering from him as he touched that warm and private flesh. It was a gentle first exploration – but Sauron yet glowered beside him, and so Elrond eased one finger in –
Celebrimbor's breath caught, and Elrond shivered at the warmth of him, at the tight clutch of his body. Too tight, far too tight, all entirely wrong... but Elrond understood what was required. He slipped his finger deeper, sliding back and forth, slowly working Celebrimbor open. The horror of this preparation set a hesitation in his pace – and Sauron curled a hand over his wrist, guiding him, forcing him.
There was a tension in his friend's face that matched the tension of that taut entrance, and Elrond was not sure how long he was supposed to wait – but Sauron's fingers gripped his wrist sharply, and so when Celebrimbor's expression eased a fraction, Elrond carefully pushed a second finger in – summoned a sharper expression, worked through it, pressed a third finger after –
"Now," Sauron said – at last, oh, too soon – and tugged Elrond's hand away. "Insert yourself."
He poured another measure of that oil into Elrond's palm, and Elrond assumed this was for himself, for his – his – Only he was still soft, even as he rubbed that slick over his shaft, his own familiar touch tingling with faint pleasure despite his wish that it would not. But that pleasure was too faint, and even as he slicked, and stroked, and whimpered – his cock would not rise to this demand, would not rise to seal this bargain –
"Elrond," Celebrimbor croaked, half propped on his elbows, smudged face achingly sincere. "If you cannot – You do not have to. Let... Let Sauron take me, as he intended, and have no part in this."
"He is part of this," hissed Sauron, lying down beside Celebrimbor, long blond hair swishing. "And if he does not fuck you, I will fuck you, and then take him too. We made a bargain, and you must both share in this now, one way or another." He stroked one finger across Celebrimbor's cheek, threat soft as a feather, real as a blade.
"I will do it," Elrond whispered again, hand stilling on his own shaft, stomach clenching tight. "I – I will..."
Sauron rose to sitting, a graceful movement, one brow arched. His eyes flicked to Elrond's soft member, then back to his face, waiting there, then – "I shall help you," he sighed, and reached in – oh, fuck, curled his fingers around Elrond's slicked shaft, began to pump – Elrond whimpered at the sensation, at the unwanted pleasure – but it was pleasure, more intense than his own hand, and his body stirred under it – cock swelling towards hardness as Sauron stroked him, a harsh tease on sensitive flesh –
"There. Insert yourself."
Elrond shuddered out a breath as Sauron retreated. But it was hardly a retreat, for that hand was no longer upon his cock, but those sharp eyes were boring into him – expecting him to push himself inside – inside his – oh –
But there was nothing for it. Elrond inhaled, exhaled, hoping to calm his racing heart – only it did not, for there was Celebrimbor spread before him – but he had no choice, except to lean over him, to balance on one forearm – "Like this?" he asked, words cast to Sauron though he kept his eyes on his friend's face, though he kept one hand on his barely-hard shaft –
"It will do," grunted Sauron, and Elrond swallowed hard – eased himself forward –
The touch of Celebrimbor's intimate skin upon his sensitive cockhead sent a fresh shiver through Elrond, laced with horror and sweet sensation. Celebrimbor tensed at it, eyes wide, and Elrond ached to halt, to end this. But Sauron was glaring beside them, a looming omen, and so Elrond pressed forward – slowly, slowly as he could – and they both whimpered as Celebrimbor's body began to open –
That flesh was so warm and tight. Elrond could feel the resistance in it, even after the work with his fingers, and so he eased his hips forward by fractions – stretching Celebrimbor gently, prying that hole wide enough to take his girth. Pain and horror flickered in those grey eyes, as horror and pleasure flickered in him too, and when Celebrimbor's gaze flared wide Elrond stilled to let him adjust –
Sauron growled, but pain still rippled across Celebrimbor's face, and so Elrond stayed motionless – aching with the knowledge of what he was doing, aching with the intimacy of this warm touch –
"Do not stop," snapped Sauron, smacking Elrond's bare ass, spilling a gasp from him.
But Elrond shivered and remained there, soft cheek stinging. "It is hurting him."
"And I shall hurt you till you resume," huffed Sauron, spanking at his ass again, sending another flare of pain through him –
"I will bear it," grunted Elrond, clenching the hand he was balancing on. "I would rather take the pain than deal it."
Celebrimbor gazed at him, eyes tender, and reached up to rest his hands on Elrond's hips. "Please, Elrond, it is easing. Continue."
There was still that shadow of pain in Celebrimbor's face – but it was true, the resistance against his tip was no longer so harsh – and Celebrimbor squeezed his hips, urging him forward as Sauron pulled back for another swing –
Elrond would rather take that pain than this pleasure, too, but he saw no other way to freedom – so he groaned and resumed, returned to pressing his cock into Celebrimbor's body – still so slow, but that taut ring was opening for him – and he was sliding, sliding –
His tip slipped in, Celebrimbor's flesh swallowing it up, hot and tight and so – Elrond shuddered out a gasp, pausing there, overwhelmed by it – by the intimate clutch of his friend's body – by the horror of it, by the bliss of it – for though he hated it there was no denying that spark of sensation –
Celebrimbor swallowed hard, gaping up at him, their wide eyes meeting as they panted there.
"All the way in," demanded Sauron, giving his ass a lighter slap, and Elrond refused – lingering a little longer – but he knew there was no avoiding this end, and so Elrond eased himself deeper, nerves flickering as he slowly nudged in to the hilt.
He paused again there, breathing hard, aching simply to pull back out – entirely out and away – and only the hot clutch of Celebrimbor's hole kept him hard at all, cock threatening to soften any moment –
"Did you wish me to take over?" growled Sauron, and Elrond groaned – for however awful this was, he doubted Sauron would be gentle with Celebrimbor, nor him either –
So Elrond began to draw back, not draw out as he ached to do, but only so he could press back in – slow as his virgin hips were capable of, untouched flesh whispering with sensation. "I'm sorry," he murmured, as he rocked back in, filling Celebrimbor again –
A horrible tenderness sizzled between them, and for a moment Elrond had the urge to confess – and yet to speak the truth now would only expose that private ache to Sauron, to allow that hated enemy to claw at that fragile yearning – so he bit down on his lip, simply apologised again with a look, setting a slow rhythm inside his whimpering friend.
Every little rub along his shaft flickered with faint pleasure, and every faint pleasure screamed with raw disgust. This was – It was not what Elrond wanted, but some shattering inversion – And the tears welling in Celebrimbor's eyes told him his friend hated every touch of him also, hated to be so impossibly close –
Aching to soothe him, no longer needing to guide his own shaft, Elrond reached his other arm up to balance upon it – to lay his palm over Celebrimbor's palm, what little reassurance he could offer, as if the events at their hips belonged to two different elves than those at their faces – and Celebrimbor shuddered, body rippling around him, but he gently squeezed Elrond's hand as Elrond rocked into him –
"Oh," murmured Sauron, deep with delight. "I was right. There is something between you."
Elrond's slow pace juddered as his stomach clenched, a denial rushing to his gasping lips – another denial spreading across Celebrimbor's face – but Sauron was already chuckling, arching closer –
"Herald Elrond, be more polite to your love," teased Sauron, slithering one hand between their tensed bodies, pressing slick lips to Celebrimbor's cheek. "Make sure he enjoys this too."
Celebrimbor loosed a groan – a thundering rumble, almost a howl – as Sauron grasped his cock, began to stroke in time with Elrond's thrusts – began to summon his cock to hardness the way his touch had done the same to Elrond –
Then Sauron released him – but only to grab Elrond's hips, to nudge his thrusts to a different angle – one which, though the pace still slow, pressed upon some spot inside Celebrimbor – a spot that made his eyes widen, gasps grow, back arch –
With a strangled yell, Celebrimbor tensed, spilling onto his own stomach. His body fluttered around Elrond, each a ripple of horrible pleasure –
Elrond paused, but Sauron arched close to his ear and growled, "It is not over till you reach your peak too."
So Elrond whimpered, resumed that rock – every gentle slide sending pleasure slithering through him – and yet he detested each fraction of it, and the bliss could gain no purchase on him – and no matter how he thrust into Celebrimbor, already panting and slumped, he could push his own pleasure no higher –
"I cannot," Elrond choked, "I cannot reach –"
"You must," hissed Sauron, breath hot on his skin.
"I cannot," whimpered Elrond, rocking gently, no further pleasure rising but only disgust – only tears blurring his sight – "Please," he gasped, and did not know for what, for assistance or some reprieve –
Sauron grunted in frustration – reached for the bottle, slicked his own fingers – pressed one into Elrond's own hole, steady and merciless – and Elrond groaned at the burn of that stretch – halted above Celebrimbor, inside Celebrimbor, tensing there as Sauron's digits pushed in behind him – moaned as Sauron pried him further, the burn doubled with double fingers – and his delicate ring twitched in horror at being so claimed, so spread – but then Sauron's fingertip was curling into that spot inside him, the one that undid Celebrimbor so, and raw bliss zapped through him – hot and fierce and irresistible – and Elrond whined, aching to refuse it, aching for this to end –
That forced pleasure coiled tight and Elrond spilled himself too, still buried inside Celebrimbor's body, shuddering with the awful beauty of it – Sauron's finger still buried in him, his body shuddering around that awful touch.
"There," sighed Sauron, pulling away, standing up. "That was all you needed to do."
Elrond swallowed hard, hardly daring to meet Celebrimbor's gaze, only daring to slip himself out. The air was cold on his slick and softening cock, its innocence ravaged by that unwanted warmth.
Sauron was almost humming now, as he cleaned his hands, busying himself around the two ruined elves.
"Then," breathed Elrond, voice still half a croak, "you will keep your bargain? We may go free?"
"You may," said Sauron, long hair swishing as he strode towards the exit. "Though our truce will end once I depart, and will not resume if we meet again. For I shall have the rings by then, and I will expect you to surrender to my mercy."
Elrond shuddered, Celebrimbor shivering near, as Sauron swept out of the forge – leaving them alone, exposed. The silence rang loud as they exchanged glances, moving to clean the horrors from their skin, at first united in their separate motions – then flowing instead to tend each other, a softer touch than they'd just shared.
"My friend," murmured Elrond, as he brushed across Celebrimbor's bare chest. "I am so sorry."
"You bore a high price for my rescue," Celebrimbor sighed, fingers gently curling over his. "No blame lies in that."
"And yet some shadow does," muttered Elrond, soul aching more than ravaged body, and saw that pang mirrored in Celebrimbor's face – the moment fading to silence, their embrace slipping apart, each reaching for their clothes. The rustle of fabric reigned long.
"I cannot shake the sense that he is waiting," Elrond mumbled, halfway dressed, wholly shuddering. "He has departed, the truce has ended – so he may freely meet us, unbound by mercy, just beyond that door."
Celebrimbor laughed, high and hollow. "If I've learned anything of Sauron's nature, it is to trust how he perceives himself," he said, easing stained velvet over bruised skin. "His moods are fickle, his truth is more so. But he believes that he is merciful, so he will cleave to his mercy. Such as it is."
"And should he decide the better mercy is to end us?" ventured Elrond, voice aquiver. "My fingers tremble with some lethargy, yet I feel the urge to dress at speed."
"He will not," insisted Celebrimbor, not bitter but melancholy. "There is no rush."
"It seems there was," croaked Elrond, fingers pausing. "But is no longer."
"My dear Elrond," Celebrimbor whispered, one smudged hand grasping his again, lips gently claiming Elrond's temple.
Elrond swallowed, chin dipping low. "I was content to let affection grow by fractions, like some seed first sprouting, that it may one day be a sturdy tree with a wide and shading canopy." He lifted his gaze, spirit still entirely sunken. "Now I fear the fruit has rotted before the first flowers ever bloomed."
"Perhaps so," murmured Celebrimbor, thumb brushing across his palm, a most aching smile in the twitch of his mouth. "But we have many years ahead. Many springs. The tree may flower yet."
Elrond loosed a long exhale. "You believe a seed still grows?"
"I am prepared to water it," Celebrimbor said, soft as his touch, "and wait for signs of some fresh leaf."
A tender shimmer dawned in Elrond's chest, the fragile glow enough to curve his mouth. "I suppose hope is the most fertile soil."
There was some shadow still in his friend's eye – but once their clothes were righted, they left the forge, and their hands did not need words to find each other.