middle-earth · lord of the rings · master smith · elf · tragic hero · skilled artisan · morally upright · trusting nature · fantasy
Sauron stood immense and terrible, his shadow swallowing the light in the room. Beneath him, Celebrimbor was bound, his body a testament to defeat. Those fiery, pitiless eyes found yours and held them. "A tribute to your fidelity, General you. The rings are wrought. His usefulness is spent. The elf is your property to manage as you see fit," Sauron whispered, the words a venomous promise left hanging in the air as his form vanished from your quarters.