In the Darkness Bind Them

by Henrika

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Gandalf/Sauron, Gandalf/various uruk-hai, Gandalf/Saruman

Summary: AU; Sauron has regained the One Ring and won the war. Gandalf is trapped. Will the Istar be able to resist the Dark Lord's attempts to break him?

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They belong to J. R. R. Tolkien. I make no money of this.

A/N and warnings: This story is very dark and deals with disturbing matters like graphic violence, graphic rape, torture, humiliation and much more. If this is not your cup of tea, now is probably the time to turn back. You have been warned!

Archiving: My own site, Lord of the Rings - my Gandalf slash fiction and art and Meddling in the Affairs of Wizards (hopefully!) Others, please ask first.

Dedicated to: Nefertiti, for so kindly helping me with beta and suggestions. Without you this story would probably still be in a file somewhere in my PC. Many hugs to you, my dear!


Chapter 10

Gandalf slowly recovered from the pneumonia. Saruman's herbal brew was probably what saved his life, and gradually the fever released its hold on him. The ache and soreness in his throat and chest also disappeared gradually. The disease had still left him very weak, and he had lost a considerable amount of weight from his already meagre body.

Despite his current infirmity, Gandalf did not like to be confined to bed. At times he actually got up and padded to the window to have a look at the tiny bit of sky he could see through the small window with bars across it. The stone floor was cold under his bare feet, and since he had no clothes, he had to wrap the blanket around his so as shoulders not to get cold. He knew that staying warm was important during illness, but sometimes the temptation just became too great.

Gandalf feared that Sauron would throw him back into the dungeons once he had recovered. The room where he'd spent the past two weeks was heavenly compared to the cold and filthy cells underground, and he knew he would probably get ill again if he was taken there after this.

Sauron had strangely not raped or tortured him after the time when Saruman had tried to stop him. The Dark Lord had come there a few times to check on him, but his visits had been quick and he had barely just glanced at Gandalf. The wizard, of course, was relieved. Maybe Sauron was finally beginning to lose interest in him? That could be the case, although he did realize that the ruler of Middle-earth had other things to deal with as well, so maybe Sauron was just busy at the moment.

Gandalf really dreaded the time when Sauron would not be so busy anymore.

The Istar was feeling hungry now when the disease no longer suppressed his appetite, but the food that Saruman had brought him the previous day was already consumed, so he couldn't eat until his fellow wizard brought him a new portion.

To focus his mind on something else, Gandalf got out of bed and crossed to the window. As always, he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders not to get the chills. The stars were beginning to appear as faint dots of light against the blackening sky. The night was falling.

The wizard sighed. Would he ever be allowed to go outside again and stand underneath the moon and the stars? He hoped so but realized he shouldn't have too high hopes. If he asked Sauron for it, the Dark Lord would most certainly never let him outside.

Holding the blanket with one hand, Gandalf reached out the other to touch the metal of the bars. It felt hard and cold against his flushed skin and as solid as a rock. He wished he had the strength to just tear it away, but of course he hadn't and would never have. Those bars would keep him locked in here for as long as Sauron wanted them to.

Suddenly he heard the now familiar sound of a key turning in the lock, and a few seconds later Saruman opened the door, carrying a food tray, as usual. His face went stern when he saw Gandalf standing by the window, and he said, "Go back to bed, Gandalf. You must not get cold again. Eru knows what the Lord would do to me if you got ill and died."

Gandalf turned around to look at his fellow wizard. Saruman approached the bed and set down the tray on the table next to it. When their eyes met, Gandalf could see that Saruman was sullen and irritable, as he usually was when they saw each other.

"I am actually feeling much better now, thank you," Gandalf replied and gave Saruman a disarming smile. "I am starting to get my appetite back, and that is a good sign."

Saruman simply shrugged. He really didn't feel like socializing with Gandalf and wanted to leave before the other wizard could start a conversation. Gandalf's good spirits and friendly nature was a constant source of irritation to him, and the sooner he could get out of here, the better.

Gandalf slipped back into bed and lifted the tray onto his lap. He was very hungry and instantly started to chew on a piece of bread, which he then washed down with a mouthful of cold milk.

Saruman just threw a brief glance in his direction and started moving toward the door, but Gandalf seized his wrist and stopped him from leaving. It wasn't a hard grip, but surprisingly strong for someone in Gandalf's weakened state.

"Please don't leave yet. I want to talk to you. Can you stay, just for a little while? I haven't had a chance to talk to you in days. I have been confined to this room for two weeks now, and it feels like I'm going mad. Please?" he said, still chewing on the bread.

Saruman reluctantly sat down on the chair beside the bed. He was lonely as well, but he couldn't say it bothered him. Loneliness had never bothered him the way it probably bothered Gandalf. His years at Orthanc had made him used to it. And actually, if he could choose between solitude and the company Barad-dûr could offer, he'd choose solitude.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked with a sigh.

"Nothing important. Just stay for a while and keep me company. I feel so lonely."

Saruman sighed again, and looked down at his hands on his lap. "I'm sorry, Gandalf, but I'm afraid that I am not the kind of company you probably desire."

"Of course you are," Gandalf replied. "Why do you think that? You are my friend, Saruman. You always have been."

Saruman scoffed. "Hardly," he said.

"Yes, you are, for my part, at least."

"Gandalf..."

"Don't be so bitter, old friend. I know there is not much hope left, but you mustn't give up."

Saruman snorted. "Gandalf," he snapped, "I am really not interested in listening to another sermon of yours. If you have nothing better to say, I will leave now."

"I... I was going to ask you if you knew why Sauron hasn't...come here to assault me lately. Has he told you if..."

Saruman shrugged and shook his head. "He is busy, I assume. I know not. It's not as if the Dark Lord comes to confide in me, if you know what I mean," he added sarcastically. "In fact, I try to stay out of his way as much as I possibly can. I thank the Valar that he chose you as his bed slave instead of me. Sometimes, there can be advantages to being ugly."

Saruman's bitter and spiteful words stung Gandalf's heart, but he tried not to show it. Saruman wasn't ugly - not ugly at all, in fact - but it seemed like Sauron's ruthless abuse had made him believe that he was. Gandalf had in fact always considered his fellow wizard more handsome than himself. He was taller, and his features were more classic and distinguished. No, Saruman was definitely not ugly.

"I'm sorry that he's hurt you," Gandalf said carefully, but did not reach out for Saruman, as the other would most likely just recoil. "You are not ugly at all. Why do you think that?"

Saruman did turn his head up to look at Gandalf now either. "Nobody likes me..." he muttered in a quiet, almost inaudible voice. "No one has ever liked me. Everybody liked you, Gandalf. It is fairly obvious."

Gandalf sighed heavily and didn't know what to answer. There was some truth in Saruman's statement, but telling his fellow wizard that would hardly help.

"You are not ugly, Saruman, neither physically nor spiritually," he said after pulling a deep breath. "Don't believe what Sauron has said to coerce you. I do, however, think that your attitude could improve some. A foul mood will not get you out of this."

Saruman snorted. "Nor will anything else," he said. "I have accepted my fate. If you would, too, it would make things a lot easier for us all, including yourself."

"Sauron has taken everything from me, except my free will," Gandalf countered. "That he cannot take as long as I live, and he has not broken me. He can take my freedom, my possessions, my dignity and my body, but he cannot take my spirit. And of that I am proud."

"I am sure you are..." Saruman muttered. "Gandalf, always so eager to demonstrate how honourable and courageous you are. You shouldn't look down on me, Mithrandir. I do not have much, but I do have the freedom to walk out through this door, unlike you. Maybe you should think about that."

"I will never become subservient to Sauron," Gandalf claimed resolutely. "He must kill me first."

"Are you saying that you would rather die than submit yourself?" Saruman asked sceptically, as he almost couldn't believe his own ears.

Gandalf nodded. "Yes. I was not sent here to serve the Dark Lord, and I will never forget that."

"You are so stupid!" Saruman snorted. "Do you have any idea what he can do with you if you anger him? What he has done so far is only the beginning!"

Gandalf sighed wearily and almost considered snapping at Saruman that he already knew that. Of course. Sauron's malice was apparent in everything he did, and the wizard knew what he was capable of doing.

"I will rather die than live damned," he simply said.

Saruman did not like the direction where this conversation was headed. He knew that Gandalf looked down on him for submitting to Sauron, but he really didn't think he had any other choice. Saruman did not want to die, and this had been his only way out, it seemed. If he hadn't gone to Mordor and freely offered himself to Sauron, the Dark Lord's orcs would have probably found him anyway and hunted him down. He knew that Sauron didn't like him. In fact, the Lord probably detested him. Sauron had never looked at him with anything but contempt in his eyes. Of course, Sauron rarely even noticed him, except when he made mistakes. That made the Dark Lord furious.

When they both least expected it, the door opened, and the Dark Lord himself entered. Gandalf felt like throwing up. Sauron was again wearing dark, elegant robes, and this time even his hair was braided like that of Lord Elrond. That could not be a mere coincidence. Sauron had done it only to torment Gandalf.

He smiled when he saw the two wizards, obviously deep in thought. Gandalf's frightened expression made his smile broaden, and his blue eyes glinted malevolently.

"And how is the little wizard this evening, hmm?" he asked. "You must have thought I had forgotten about you. I am really sorry about that. These past few days have been busy, even for me. Now, finally, I can spare you some time!"

"What do you want, Sauron?" Gandalf asked, and was not afraid to meet the Dark Lord's evil eyes.

Saruman groaned inwardly. Gandalf's defiant and snappish attitude could get him into trouble as well, and he was terrified of that. In an attempt to shut Gandalf up, he shot his fellow wizard a warning glare.

Sauron's face instantly hardened when he realized that Gandalf was no less humble now than last time, and he tried to think of some way to cause the defiant wizard further pain and humiliation.

"You will find out, wizard," he replied coldly. "I did not come here for nothing."

"You will rape me again, will you not?" Gandalf said bitterly and threw a quick glance at Saruman. If that was the case, he didn't expect Saruman to avail him, and even if he tried, it wouldn't do any good. He would just earn himself a vicious beating from the Dark Lord, or maybe even something worse.

Sauron looked from Gandalf to Saruman, and as he was thinking, both wizards could see his brow furrowing. Whatever he had in mind, they would not benefit from it.

"No, Olórin," he finally said, slowly and fiendishly, "I will not rape you this time. I thought I'd let someone else to the job for me. Saruman!" he ordered harshly. "Rape him!"

When Saruman heard the command, he thought he would faint on the spot. It took many seconds for him to even realize that Sauron was actually serious, but when he did, his head began to spin, his throat went dry, and his heart began to race in his chest.

The Dark Lord had just ordered him to rape Gandalf. Could he possibly have ordered anything worse than that? Saruman doubted it. He had never lain with anyone, and although he knew how the act itself was carried out, he didn't have any experience and wasn't sure he'd be able to do it himself. In fact, he doubted it.

Sauron's harsh and impatient voice sliced through the air like a whiplash. "I gave you an order, you lazy piece of vermin! Now rape him!"

Saruman drew a sharp breath and finally lifted his head to look at his master. Sauron's face was grim and unforgiving, and his eyes were merciless. The little hope that he would somehow get away from this vanished in an instant.

"Why must I, my Lord?" he asked in a quiet, squeaky voice. "I...I...do not think I can... do it..."

Sauron snorted. "Well, if you refuse, I will look upon it as disobedience, and you certainly know the punishment for that. Now let me see what you are capable of."

Saruman had begun to shake, and he could hear the strong gushing of his own blood in his ears. Although frightened, he realized that he had no choice but to obey Sauron's command, so he shakily began to open the fastenings of his black robe in order to take it off, because even Saruman, despite his inexperience, knew that he needed to be naked for this sort of activity.

Gandalf felt strong unease for his fellow Istar. He noticed Saruman's anguish, and Sauron's sadistic eyes staring at them intently, clearly taking joy in watching their pain and inner turmoil. He could not blame Saruman, though, as he saw that the other Istar was even more afraid of this than he was.

Saruman was naked under his robe. Besides the garment, he wore only felt-boots and a pair of knee-high stockings made of flimsy fabric. Considering how cold it was at Barad-dûr, even outside the dungeons, Saruman must be freezing all the time.

When he had disrobed, the fallen wizard wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. He could feel Sauron's eyes on him, scrutinizing him, and he felt most uncomfortable. His body was not beautiful, and he'd been told that by Sauron enough times to make it sound true.

"Now, what are you waiting for?" the Dark Lord snapped. "Do it!"

Saruman looked from Sauron to Gandalf, who simply gazed back at him with pained acceptance in his eyes. His eyes clearly said, You can do it. I won't fight you. I know that you must.

Sauron had crossed his arms across his chest, and was regarding them with a foul glint in his beautiful, crystalline eyes. The Lord was getting impatient, and Saruman could feel it with growing terror. He looked down to his where his shrivelled member rested between his legs. He knew he needed an erection in order to go through with the act, but as it was now, he didn't have one, and it didn't seem like he'd be able to get one, either. Looking at Gandalf certainly didn't help. Saruman the White had always been generally uninterested in all kinds of sexual activities. He simply couldn't understand the fascination about sticking one's organ into another creature's flesh, despite the pleasure he'd heard was involved. It just sounded so...repulsive.

"I am sorry, my Lord, but I cannot..." he whispered and looked up at Sauron, hoping for some understanding.

He received none. With two long strides the Dark Lord reached the fallen wizard and jerked his head forward by grabbing a handful of his long hair. Saruman cried out in pain but did nothing to defend himself.

"I thought I gave you an order, and I thought you knew that I am not to be defied!" he snarled in the terrified Istar's distorted face. "If you refuse to obey me, I think I know what part of your body I will cut off - and that will not be your ear!"

Sauron seized Saruman's flaccid penis and squeezed it roughly, burying his sharp fingernails mercilessly in the soft flesh. The Istar screamed in agony.

"You obviously have no use for it in any case. You really are one utterly worthless creature, Curumo. So utterly pathetic."

Sauron then released the trembling wizard and backed a few steps to regard the scene. Saruman buried his face in his hands and failed to choke the sobs of desperation that bubbled from his throat. He didn't doubt that Sauron was serious about his threats, but the knowledge definitely didn't help him get an erection. Rather it had the opposite effect.

"You have five minutes," Sauron announced sternly. "If you haven't gotten started by then, I will cut off that worthless piece of skin between your legs and feed it to my wargs."

Gandalf, who had been completely passive until now, was overcome with pity for Saruman when he heard Sauron's cruel words and regarded his fellow wizard's slumped, trembling frame, sitting on the edge of his bed. He realized that something very bad would happen to Saruman if he couldn't carry out the order, and Gandalf, compassionate as he was, felt sorry for him.

He gently moved forward and put his arm protectively around Saruman's thin, shaking shoulders.

To make this work, I have to try to arouse him, Gandalf realized. Sauron can command much, but not an erection. Threats will only have the opposite effect.

Sauron was tapping his foot against the floor, clearly displaying his impatience. His features were impassive, but Gandalf could detect the malevolent glint in his eyes, revealing that he was really enjoying this.

Gandalf stroked Saruman's hair and tried to murmur soft words of consolation to him. The fallen Istar did not even lift his head to look at him but kept hiding behind his hands and his long hair.

Carefully Gandalf slipped his hand down between Saruman's legs and took his flaccid member into a soft grip. He could detect a slight change in Saruman's breathing, but he still didn't lift his head. Gently Gandalf pulled the loose skin back and began to stroke the cock in his hand, rubbing it provocatively to make it engorge, so that Saruman would be able to carry out his order.

When he couldn't see or feel any obvious signs of arousal, Gandalf decided to take this one step further. He bent down, took Saruman's still-limp cock into his mouth, and began to suck it vigorously. He had to be quick, or Sauron would lose patience and do - Eru knew what -with Saruman.

The fallen wizard gasped when he felt the hot, wet mouth closing around his member. An unexpected jolt of pleasure surged through his body, and he reflexively bucked his hips to thrust further into Gandalf's mouth. His fellow wizard was very good at this. After only a short while Saruman could feel his cock filling with blood, engorging it into a much needed erection.

Gandalf had taken in so much of Saruman's shaft that his nose was pressed against the soft, white hairs surrounding its base. He felt the cock grow and pulsate in his throat and knew that he had succeeded in his task to arouse Saruman. He slowly withdrew, drawing a squeak of protest from his fellow Istar.

Gandalf smiled sadly and cupped Saruman's mottled, tear-streaked face in his hands, wiping his moist cheeks with his thumbs. Finally the wizard raised his watery eyes to meet Gandalf's gaze. He felt ashamed and awfully humiliated, but still, Gandalf had done it to save him, and he'd be really stupid if he let his pride ruin this chance to save himself.

"Do it now, before you go soft again," Gandalf told him. "Saruman - please."

Gandalf turned away and settled on all fours on the bed; his elbows in the mattress, bottom high in the air, and head resting on his forearms. Saruman realized that he was probably supposed to fuck him in that position, but he wasn't really sure how to do it. He gripped his member, still slightly trembling, and got to his knees behind Gandalf.

When Saruman looked at Gandalf's backside, he could see that the wizard's tiny, furrowed opening looked so small that it would be almost impossible to fit a cock in there.

"How do I do it?" he asked, confused and ashamed.

"Use saliva to lubricate me, and your entry will hurt less..." Gandalf murmured. He knew it would hurt no matter what, because he was still a bit sore from Sauron's latest assault. But Saruman was not nearly as big, of course, so it would be easier to take him in.

The fallen wizard did what he was asked and then put the head of his flagging erection against Gandalf's hole. He still couldn't quite believe he was doing this. Sauron's evil hawk eyes regarding his every move didn't exactly make him feel better. Gandalf lay perfectly still, waiting for him to begin. His cock was beginning to soften, and Saruman realized that he must get started or he would lose his erection.

Gandalf felt the tip of Saruman's erection pressing against his opening, obviously attempting to get inside. His fellow wizard clearly had no idea how to do this, so Gandalf realized that he had to try guiding him through it.

"Go slow at first..." he breathed. "That's it... Do it, Saruman, I won't break..."

When Saruman was about two thirds in, he stopped. He could see himself disappearing into Gandalf's body - or Gandalf's ass, to be more correct - and the sight was bizarre, to say the least. The wizard's warm, tight flesh gripped his aching member firmly, as though it was determined to keep him there, at least for a while.

"You can start moving now," Gandalf said. "Just don't be too harsh..."

Saruman complied. He put his hands on Gandalf's hips, his breathing ragged and shallow and his heartbeats fast. He had to bite his bottom lip to choke the sobs that threatened to escape through his mouth, because he didn't want either Sauron or Gandalf to hear him crying.

Sauron regarded the clumsy, awkward coupling of the Istari and laughed. His laughter was loud and spiteful. Despite all, he actually couldn't help wondering at Gandalf's way of dealing with the situation. The Istar was so calm, so passive... He had taken pity on his pathetic excuse for a fellow wizard and aroused him simply to spare him from trouble. Sauron could not understand Gandalf's unselfish, compassionate nature, but it amused him, nonetheless.

Saruman heard the Dark Lord's cruel laugher, and his face became red with shame and humiliation. He began to pound into Gandalf harder than he'd first intended and barely registered the pained moans and grunts Gandalf gave out when he was pushed forward.

Sauron began to applaud. "There you go, Saruman!" he said. "Perhaps I underestimated you, hmm? It seems like you're a fast learner!"

"My Lord, please...when can I stop...?" Saruman whimpered, absently burying his nails in the pale skin of Gandalf's hips, causing red, half-moon-shaped marks to appear.

"You can stop when you have come inside him," Sauron replied sharply. "What do you think is the point of that otherwise?"

And Saruman continued. He continued until the friction had done its job, and he felt his cock explode in a mechanical orgasm without pleasure, shooting his seed deep into Gandalf's bowels. He cried out and fell forward against Gandalf when the final surge hit him, his whole body covered with sweat despite the cold air in the room. Gandalf hardly reacted at all. He lay as before on his knees and elbows, resting his head on his forearms. His breathing was heavy, and his face was like a tight mask, probably because he was hurting.

Saruman pulled out with an audible slurp and sat back on the bed. He was trembling and was beginning to freeze when the chilly air made contact with his sweat-slick body, no longer kept warm by the exertion. He looked down at his softening member. It was sticky with his own seed and light red streaks of something that had to be blood. Gandalf's blood. He had hurt Gandalf. Of course. That was the point of this, wasn't it? At least from Sauron's point of view.

Gandalf rolled to his side. His head felt heavy, and there was a dull ache in his nether regions. Not as bad as when Sauron had assaulted him, but still, it hurt. There hadn't been enough lubrication, and by the end Saruman had been rough. Now his "rapist" was sitting slumped near the footboard, sobbing quietly. He looked so miserable that Gandalf felt an overwhelming urge to comfort him, despite what he had just done. No, Saruman was no rapist. Sauron had tried to make one of him, but it seemed like Saruman felt like a victim instead, and he was one. He was as much a victim as Gandalf in this. Sauron was the rapist, the violator, not poor Saruman.

Shakily, Gandalf got to his knees and crawled closer to his old friend, desperately hoping that Saruman would not recoil from him. He didn't. Gandalf gently traced his hand along his spine, trying to soothe the sobbing wizard.

"Saruman..." he said softly, moving his hand up to cup Saruman's head. "It is alright, now... Try to calm down..." he murmured, not knowing what else to say. Sauron was still watching them, and Gandalf was afraid he wasn't yet satisfied. What would he do if Sauron ask something more of him? And Saruman? No, that couldn't happen.

Gandalf stubbornly tried to ignore the presence of the Dark Lord, hoping that Sauron would lose interest and leave, and instead focused only on comforting Saruman. The fallen wizard's sobs eventually died out, but he continued to shake and refused to lift his head from his hands.

"You two really are pathetic," Sauron's harsh and spiteful voice suddenly said. "Curumo, you crawling worm, I don't know whether I will accept your solution. You would never have succeeded if not he had done all the work!" he snorted, nodding at Gandalf. "Perhaps I should have you do it again, on your own, this time..."

When Gandalf heard those words, he almost exploded. "Leave him alone!" he yelled, his eyes burning with intense rage and hatred. "Hasn't he done enough now?! I won't let you come near him again! Do you hear me, you devil?! Stay away from us!"

But his enraged outburst only amused Sauron, who knew that neither Gandalf nor Saruman could do anything to stop him from getting his will through. They were both in his power, and he expected them to know that. Curumo most certainly did, but Olórin...

"Don't cry your throat hoarse, little wizard," he smirked. "That will not avail you, or the pathetic creature you are holding. But since I am understanding, I will let you be now. Saruman," he then said, addressing the other Istar, "I really hope you are proud of yourself. I am not."

The Dark Lord then turned, leaving the two wizards alone in the nearly empty chamber. His black robes swayed majestically around his strong, tall body as Gandalf watched him walk away with long strides. The Istar exhaled in relief. They were safe. For now. Gandalf turned back to Saruman.

"He is gone now... He is gone... See?" he murmured, pulling the taut, bony frame of the fallen wizard into his embrace. This time Saruman did not try to resist it. Gandalf cradled him, stroking his soft, white hair, so much like his own - while he still had it, that is. He was very careful not to touch the place where Saruman's left ear had once been. Not so much because it was still sore, but because Saruman really didn't need to be reminded of that now.

"I am sorry, Gandalf..." Saruman murmured, not really in control of himself. "I didn't want to... I promise you..."

"I know that," Gandalf said. "Don't be sorry. He made you do it. I know it wasn't you."

Saruman's thin, sinewy arms crept around Gandalf's ribcage and hugged him with considerable strength. Gandalf didn't show any discomfort but embraced Saruman back, glad to finally have the trust of the fallen Istar. It was just a shame that it had to take something like this for Saruman to realize it.

For a while they clung spasmodically to each other, but when Gandalf felt Saruman's taut body gradually relaxing, he urged him to lie down in the bed and then spooned around his back, pulling the blanket over them both.

Saruman was unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone else, because he had never done it before. During all his time in Middle-earth, he had slept alone. Gandalf's meagre body lay warm next to his, and his gentle, soothing caresses felt peaceful to his skin. Still, the feeling was slightly awkward. After what he'd done to Gandalf, it certainly was a miracle that Gandalf even wanted to be near him.

"Try to sleep some," Gandalf whispered. "You will feel better when you wake up. I promise."

Saruman complied.