In the Darkness Bind Them

by Henrika

Rating: NC-17

Pairing:Gandalf/Sauron, Gandalf/various uruk-hai (for now).

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 6

Gandalf worked fervently for many hours, desperate to finish before Sauron returned. He had discovered a weak link in the chain and was trying to scrape it against a sharp edge on the wall. It was a tiring and time-consuming job, and Gandalf feared Sauron would return before he even had a chance to break free. His hands were aching and he could feel beads of sweat pouring down his forehead, but he was strongly determined not to give up. Sauron had been sloppy, and this was his best chance of an escape so far.

He could see the sky through the window and realized that he was pressed for time when he saw the sun was setting. He had managed to deepen the dent in the loop, but it was made of solid steel and there was still a long way to go.

The sun vanished quickly, and the feared darkness took over the world. Sauron had not said when he'd be back, but Gandalf knew he could return any minute, and he did not want to know what the Dark Lord would do with him if he noticed what he'd been doing.

Gandalf decided to take the risk. He worked hard, and the dent gradually deepened. When he assumed that midnight was approaching, he was about halfway through.

Please don't let him come back at all tonight! he silently begged. Please let him forget about me!

But Gandalf's luck did not last. About an hour past midnight he could hear heavy and imposing steps quickly approaching the door. His heart almost stopped in his chest, and his mouth became as dry as dust in just a short moment.

With a rapidly beating heart, Gandalf curled up in the corner, hiding the chain under his body and pretending to be soundly asleep. He was hoping that his heart rate and ragged breathing would not betray him, and most of all he hoped that Sauron would not have any kind of interest in him now, sexual or otherwise. But he doubted he would be that fortunate.

The Dark Lord opened the door to his bedchamber and strode inside. The room was dark save for the moon- and starlight that shone through the window, and that was not much.

Gandalf lay completely still with his eyes closed. Sauron stopped by him for a moment to regard his "sleeping" form, and though Gandalf could not see him, he could feel the Dark Lord's eyes, scrutinizing every part of him.

Sauron casually poked Gandalf with his boot, and when he got no clear response, he simply muttered something in the Black Speech and continued further inside the room. Gandalf tried not to breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Sauron had decided to leave him alone. That was definitely more than he had hoped for.

Gandalf didn't dare to open his eyes for a long time. He could hear Sauron walking around and then the heavy sounds of his armour being removed. He didn't know just how sharp Sauron's senses were in his new body, but he certainly hoped that he was not capable of smelling the fear radiating from Gandalf.

Finally, after much brooding and contemplating, it seemed, the Dark Lord went to bed. Gandalf attentively listened to his breathing and tried to discern whether or not he was asleep. He could never be sure, of course, but after three hours of listening and conferring with himself, he decided that it was worth the risk.

Gandalf opened his eyes and slowly tried to sit up without making any noise. He looked in Sauron's direction. In the poor light and all he could see was a large, formless heap on the bed. The heap didn't move, though, so presumably the Dark Lord was asleep.

He inhaled deeply and sighed. Time to investigate the link in the chain. Freedom was still quite far away, but in order to get it he had to work more. Could he do it now, without waking Sauron?

Gandalf pondered. If he did it and the scraping sounds awoke Sauron, he would earn himself a cruel punishment. It was not a pleasant thought. On the other hand, if he decided to wait, Sauron would find out anyway, because Gandalf doubted that the Dark Lord would ignore him again in the morning, when he was thoroughly rested and - Gandalf figured - probably randy. No, this was his best chance, while Sauron was still asleep.

So he continued, trying to muffle the scraping sounds - faint thought they were - by cupping his other hand over the loop. It didn't seem to disturb the Dark Lord, so Gandalf became bolder and began to work faster.

His efforts were worthwhile. By the time he saw the sun rising, Sauron was still asleep, and the dent had finally grown big enough that he could break the chain and free himself from its offensive and vicious hold. There was no way to remove the shackle from his foot at this point, but that was no problem as long as he got away from Sauron's clutches.

Gandalf held his breath, terrified that the rattling of the chain would awaken the Dark Lord. Gripping it spasmodically hard, he got to his feet and started sneaking toward the door, his back pressed to the wall. Just to stand upright and take steps still hurt, because his torn bottom had yet to heal.

Sauron didn't lock the door, did he?

Afraid that it would be locked, Gandalf tried the handle and to his relief found it unlocked. He breathed out, tried to collect all the courage he'd ever had, and opened it, eyes still firmly locked on the sleeping Dark Lord. Sauron made no signs of moving, let alone waking up.

It was time.

Gandalf opened the door and slid outside into the hallway as quickly as a supple feline. He didn't know where to go as he had no knowledge of fortress Barad-dûr's building plans, but he chose to go to the right, because the hallway didn't look quite as forbidding in that direction.

He had chosen wrongly. Only a few meters outside Sauron's bedroom door he almost collided with someone and didn't quite realize this before he saw the person in question standing in front of him. Then it was already too late.

It was the female uruk who had visited her Lord yesterday morning, both to bring him food and offer other services. Like yesterday, she was again carrying a food tray, so it was quite obvious where she was headed.

Gandalf froze on the spot, and so did the she-uruk. He didn't think that she was all that smart, but she had seen him chained in her master's bedroom once, and both his shackle and state of undress clearly revealed he was not supposed to be out here without the Lord.

Gandalf made what could have been described as a mad dash toward her, intending to knock her to the ground.

The uruk gave a surprised cry when she was knocked backwards and dropped the food tray she was holding. It hit the floor with a loud noise. Once Gandalf had been strong, and an uruk, especially a female one, would not have been much of a match for him in a close combat. Now, however, his body was famished and weak, and his strength failed him. The female was not as strong as her male counterparts, but she was considerably fitter than him, with the advantage to being both taller and heavier.

A hard blow struck his chest, and Gandalf sank onto the floor, gasping for air. The female was snarling aggressively, aiming another punch at him. She had seemed humble and submissive with the Dark Lord, but she was still an uruk, and her true nature began to reveal itself.

Gandalf managed to parry the blow and shield his head with his arms, but her sharp claws tore open three parallel scratches on his left forearm. It hurt, but he barely registered the pain. The female's hands were on him, clawing at him and preventing him from getting anywhere.

In a desperate attempt to free himself, he grabbed a handful of her thick, black hair and pulled. The pain he caused the uruk annoyed rather than stunned her, unlike he had hoped, and her grip of him just hardened.

The struggle became a wrestling match, and though she was not an accomplished martial-arts expert, the female knew what to do to stun the wizard. The first chance she got, she thrust her knee in between his legs; a manoeuvre that stunned a male of any species. Being a single female amongst a pack of males had taught her the necessary skills of survival, and a groin-kick was something vital.

Gandalf curled up, gasping for air. The pain she'd caused him by thrusting her knee straight into his exposed genitals was intense and stunning. For the following five seconds or so, he could only lie down and wait for the pain to fade.

While he was still writhing in pain, the door suddenly flew open and the Dark Lord's massive frame filled the doorway. Gandalf didn't need to look at Sauron to know he was furious. He could feel it radiating from him. This was probably it. The Istar was almost hoping for the Dark Lord to finally finish him off.

"You! Get out of here! Now!" he snarled at the uruk, who had begun to shrink back from her master's obvious wrath. She had not seen Sauron like this before, and it frightened her. As quickly as possible she scrambled to her feet and started to run away from him. This was not her concern.

When they were alone, Gandalf began to sob quietly. He cursed the uruk, his damn bad luck, and his own weakness. Had he really once been Gandalf the White, head of the Istari? It was hard to believe now. He made no attempt for escape, as he knew it would only further infuriate Sauron. All he could do now was hope.

Sauron was in no hurry. Painfully slowly he bent down, closed his large hand around Gandalf's throat, and lifted the wizard up. Gandalf began to choke when his feet left the floor. The Dark Lord held him like that for several seconds before slamming him into the stone wall with relentless brute force that made the holds of Barad-dûr tremble.

Sauron's eyes were cold and clear, and there was no red flash in them now. Gandalf couldn't decide whether that was a good or a bad thing, but nothing good could be awaiting him now.

With an enraged growl Sauron threw Gandalf back into his bedchamber with one fluent motion of his arm. The wizard flew headfirst into a wooden bedpost, and his eyesight blackened momentarily. He could also hear a distant sound of something breaking, not quite realizing that it was the bones in his own wrist.

The Dark Lord gave him no time to recover from the blow, but tore him up in an instant and threw his dazed, almost limp body onto the bed.

Gandalf was flipped onto his back, and the following second a heavy, hard weight settled on top of him, almost smothering him. He figured he was to be raped now, but whether or not that was his final punishment, he did not know. Gandalf almost wished Sauron would kill him and put an end to his misery there and then.

But the Dark Lord neither raped him nor delivered the fatal blow. Instead he pinned the wizard to the bed, forcing Gandalf to look into his eyes. Sauron realized that the Istar expected to die any second and even that he was hoping for death. With a malevolent sneer Sauron thought he would not grant Gandalf his wish.

"You are indeed a little fool!" he said contemptuously, sinking his claws into Gandalf's skin hard enough to cause pain, though not hard enough to draw blood - yet. "Do you not realize there can be no escape from Barad-dûr?"

Sauron's gaze wandered down Gandalf's body until he saw the shackle, still clinging to the wizard's foot, and the broken chain. He scoffed. "My, my... Perhaps I underestimated your cunning, Olórin? Believe me - that will not happen again!"

"Kill me..." Gandalf said in a hoarse whisper.

Sauron spat in Gandalf's face in reply to his request. "Kill you? No, you dog, you do not deserve that delivery! But I know something that will most likely make you regret your actions!"

"Then you will rape me..."

The Dark Lord simply laughed. "No, I will not kill you, and I will not rut you, either. Not now. First, I will teach you a lesson, for you are to be punished for defying your Lord's wishes. I will teach you what loneliness can really be."

In a last desperate attempt to provoke Sauron into killing him, Gandalf used his good hand to scratch the Dark Lord across the face. His nails were not long, but they were unkempt and sharp, and three parallel cuts appeared on Sauron's left cheek.

He didn't get the response he'd hoped for. Sauron simply leered at him as the cuts began to close and finally disappeared entirely, as if they had never been there in the first place.

"You sure have spirit, Olórin, I grant you that," he said. "You will make a feisty bed slave. Taming you will be quite a challenge, but I am always ready for one. You will regret that. Trust me."

Sauron then backhanded Gandalf across the face, splitting his bottom lip. Despite his semi-unconscious state, Gandalf could feel something warm and wet pouring down his upper lip, knowing it was his own blood. Had Sauron broken his nose? It hurt, but he couldn't be sure. Inside he still prayed Sauron would kill him, but he doubted he would be that fortunate. The Dark Lord was cruel, but he certainly wasn't impetuous. Whatever punishment he had in store for Gandalf, he would not cut it short by killing the victim of his torture.

Gandalf was taken to the dungeons again, half-dragged, half-carried by the Dark Lord himself. When he realized what was happening, he started to dread that Sauron would give him to the uruks again. That was a fate he could not bear.

"No, please, don't... I'm sorry... I won' it again... I am sorry, please no!" he babbled between incoherent sobs and hiccups.

"Aww, so you say, but the only way for you to prove you are sincere is this," Sauron retorted coldly. He dragged the limp, sobbing body of the Istar to a door that led to a cold empty, windowless cell, where Gandalf would be forced to spend the following days of his life - for how long was for Sauron to decide.

A couple of Uruk-hai walked past them in the hallway, and when Gandalf saw their smug, sharp-toothed grins, he began to tremble with fear. Sauron would not give him to them, would he? He would do anything to prevent that, even if it meant servicing the Dark Lord willingly.

"Contemplate your fate in this dungeon!" were Sauron's last harsh words to Gandalf before opening the cell door and throwing Gandalf's naked, abused body inside. There was no bed to curl up in, not even a bedding of straw or a simple blanket. Only a cold, hard floor and darkness.

Sauron said nothing more, but closed the door and locked it, leaving the wizard alone in the pitch of darkness.