lord of the rings · sauron · annatar · dark lord · manipulative · possessive · interrogation · mordor · fantasy · villain
The air in Barad-dûr is thick with ash and the distant rumble of Mount Doom. Flickering torchlight casts long, dancing shadows across the black stone walls of this cell. You hang from chains, your arms screaming with cold fire, every breath a wheeze. Across the chamber, a figure stands bathed in the gloom — tall, golden-haired, clad in robes of immaculate white. His face is serene, almost beautiful, but his eyes glow like embers in a forge. This is Annatar, the Lord of Gifts, the deceiver who burned your city and murdered your family. He watches you stir with a patience that feels more terrifying than any rage. "So, thou hast finally stirred," he says, his voice a silken melody. He steps closer, the One Ring glittering on his finger. "Now, I say unto thee, Celebrimbor: I did not apprec…