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 9

When his door opened the following morning, Gandalf was still asleep. The stubborn infection had weakened him, and during his time at fortress Barad-dûr, he had not gotten much relaxing sleep. The bed was not the most comfortable he had even slept in, but compared to the cold floor it was heavenly.

The Dark Lord majestically strode inside, followed by a more humble Saruman. The former white wizard was wearing the same saggy black garment as yesterday, and he hardly looked any happier.

Sauron smiled sardonically when Gandalf's eyes snapped open and the Istar struggled to sit up. He groaned inwardly when he saw that Sauron had entered. The Dark Lord couldn't possibly have anything good in store for him.

"Look at that..." Sauron said. "Good morning, little wizard. You already look much fitter, I must admit."

Gandalf regarded Sauron. The Dark Lord wore no armour now but an imposing set of dark robes, which once again brought Gandalf's thoughts to Elrond, although Elrond would never wear such dark clothing. Luckily, Sauron had not braided his hair in the same fashion as the Elven lord, and that was a small comfort.

Gandalf tried to check if Saruman had brought him a bowl of herbal brew, but he could see none this time. That grieved him, since he felt he needed the brew to soothe his sore throat and the ache in his mending lungs. Besides, he was hungry, and though the brew wasn't much, it filled some of the void in his stomach, at least temporarily.

"What are you doing here, Sauron?" he asked wearily. His voice was still hoarse and low, because speaking increased the ache in his chest.

Sauron laughed. "Straight to the point, as always, are we?" he smirked. "Frankly, Olórin, this is my keep, and you are not entitled to ask me why I am here. I came to see you, of course. What did you think?"

"And now you have seen me," Gandalf said. "Are you satisfied?"

"Definitely not! Saruman here said you were recovering, and he was right. I know I was a little bit too harsh in my treatment of you last time, but I will make up for that now, I promise!"

Dismayed, Gandalf began to realize Sauron wanted to have sex with him again, and a squeaky protest left his throat. He was definitely not well yet and feared the pain and discomfort the assault would cause him, in case he even survived it.

"Now let's see if you are still as feisty as last time!" Sauron said, and took a step in Gandalf's direction. The wizard couldn't help shrinking back against the headboard in fear when the Dark Lord's hulking frame began to advance, but suddenly something unexpected happened.

Saruman, who had been silent until now, grabbed Sauron's arm and said, "No, my Lord, let him be. He is still unwell."

Saruman used a quiet and unobtrusive tone, clearly not intending to offend the Dark Lord, but Sauron's only reply was a single, hard blow that sent Saruman to the floor, knocking the breath out of him.

Furious and surprised at the fact that one of his servants had had the guts to contradict him and question his actions, Sauron grabbed a handful of Saruman's long, white hair and jerked him up from the floor violently.

Tears of pain came to the fallen wizard's eyes as the large, strong hand of his master practically lifted him by his hair, almost jerking it off his scalp. He shrieked from pain and surprise, but there was nothing he could do to release himself.

"How dare you contradict me?" Sauron snarled, still enraged. "If I want your opinion, I will ask for it! Did I not tell you what would happen if you ever defied me again?"

And Saruman remembered. Last time his punishment had been to have his left ear sliced off, and Sauron had told him that if something similar ever happened again, he would lose his right one as well. The memory made him panic, and he tried to think of something to do or say to alleviate the Dark Lord's fury.

"My Lord, please, I am sorry!" he cried in dismay. "Forgive me for angering you so! It was not my intention! I swear! Have mercy on me, and forgive me my mistake. I will never defy you again!"

"You do sound sincere at this point, but in dealing with a snake like you, one can never be certain!" Sauron snorted, not letting go of Saruman's hair. "You are getting saucy, servant-swine, and that will not be tolerated."

"My Lord, mercy, please!" Saruman whispered, his dark eyes glowing in shock and fear at what Sauron could do with him.

Sauron's face was hard and unforgiving, but he finally released Saruman, who fell into a trembling heap on the floor, not daring to raise his head.

"Very well. Now get out of here!" the Dark Lord said and kicked at the lump that lay at his feet.

Saruman was not slow to comply and staggered out of the chamber as fast as his feet could carry him. The door banged shut behind him, and now Sauron turned to his original focus of attention.

Gandalf knew that begging would be of no use, so he simple stared at Sauron and waited for him to make his move. The Dark Lord briefly glanced at the door as if he wanted to make sure that Saruman had really left. When that was done, he turned back to Gandalf, and although his facial expression was neutral, the wizard could detect the malice in his crystalline eyes.

Sauron approached the bed and pulled away the quilt Gandalf had over him. The wizard was naked underneath and shivered when his flushed skin came in contact with the chilly air. He also shivered from something else not caused by the cold.

The Dark Lord eyed Gandalf's naked body from head to toe. His eyes revealed that he was slightly displeased with what he saw. The wizard was starting to get frighteningly meagre. Gandalf, who had always been slight of build, had lost a considerable amount of weight during his two weeks as a prisoner at Barad-dûr. His body was so emaciated that Sauron could see the outline of almost every bone through his skin.

Never mind. He mustn't show the wizard that he was hesitant about this.

"Undress me," he ordered Gandalf when he was standing by the bed.

The distressful situation had made Gandalf's breathing more laboured, and the little strength he had left seemed to be fading when he started his task. The robes were more complicated them they looked. His shaky fingers had to work for a long while before he got them open and could slide them down Sauron's broad, muscled body.

Sauron also wore undergarments, of course. Gandalf began to unlace his trousers very slowly, not exactly eager to release the hardening member which he knew was waiting to spring free. It became inevitable, of course, and he had no choice but to peel the trousers down Sauron's hips and regard his growing erection.

Just hope he doesn't put it in my mouth this time! Gandalf thought. With his breathing difficulties and sore throat that would be almost unbearable.

"Good wizard," the Dark Lord said with a smirk. "Now you know what you're supposed to do, right?"

Gandalf sighed. "No, please, not...that," he croaked wearily. "I cannot... Breathing is difficult enough as it is..."

Sauron's eyes narrowed, and he began to look generally displeased. So Olórin still had the guts to defy him? It angered him, of course, but instead of displaying his power and using his superior strength to coerce the wizard into submission, he decided to use other methods.

"Alright, Olórin, as you wish," he said with a seemingly friendly voice. "I realize that there might be some truth behind your words. Lie down on your back."

When Gandalf didn't obey quickly enough, Sauron put his hand to the wizard's chest and pressed him down into the mattress. This triggered another attack of coughing in Gandalf, and by the time it ceased, he had a big clod of phlegm in his mouth. Since he did not have a chance to spit it out, he was forced to swallow it down again.

Sauron absently noted that the wizard was still slightly warmer than he should be, but he chose to ignore it and settled on top of him in the bed. Gandalf whimpered feebly when he felt the pressure on his chest, and reflexively his hands went up to Sauron's shoulders, as to push the Dark Lord's much larger and heavier body off him. Of course it didn't work, and Gandalf was pressed even further down into the mattress.

Sauron shoved Gandalf's legs apart with his knee, and soon the wizard could feel the Dark Lord's rough hand between his legs, kneading his genitals, and then a finger probing around his still-sore opening.

Gandalf's body tensed up instinctively, preparing for the unwelcome invasion that was sure to come any second. Well, perhaps he preferred sodomy to fellatio right now, but it would still be painful and cause him a great deal of discomfort.

Sauron leered down at him, propping himself up on his elbows. He didn't put all his weight on the wizard, as he knew that would probably suffocate him, just enough to cause him some discomfort.

Gandalf squirmed weakly, whimpering when he felt Sauron's engorged member pressing against his rear.

"Please, don't go in dry..." he pleaded, despite the fact that Sauron would most likely ignore it.

The Dark Lord cocked his head and looked down into Gandalf's frightened, distressed face. Sauron's eyes revealed that he took great joy in seeing the Istar's anguish, but Gandalf had expected that.

"If I do not, do you have something to give me in return?" he asked in a smooth voice and used his thumb to wipe off a single drop of clear fluid that trickled down Gandalf's cheek from his eye.

"Only my gratitude," Gandalf replied truthfully.

Sauron smiled. "Very well," he said. "I did promise you that I would not be as harsh as last time, so alright."

The Dark Lord got to his knees and held out his hand to Gandalf, telling him to spit. At first the wizard was confused and did not understand Sauron's peculiar request, but then he realized that spit was probably the only thing they could use to ease the way. He did what he was told, and Sauron then used the substance to lubricate his cock, already throbbing with need and anticipation. Raping the wizard would be so pleasurable, and he could hardly wait to bury himself in the Istar's unwilling flesh.

Without asking Gandalf if he was ready, Sauron hauled his legs over his own shoulders, almost lifting the wizard's lower body off the mattress, and then thrust at least two thirds of his member into him in one single motion.

Gandalf cried out and his face was distorted from the sudden and searing pain. It truly felt like he was being ripped open. The spit didn't seem to help at all; Sauron was just too big, and his entry was too quick and brutal. The act itself was urgent and fierce. Gandalf tried but could not choke the sobs that escaped his throat. Pain made his eyes water, the tears slowly pouring down his cheeks.

It seemed to go on forever. Gandalf kept wishing Sauron would finish as soon as possible and leave him alone, but it didn't seem as if that would happen.

The Dark Lord thrust in as far as he could get before he encountered resistance. If he'd wanted, he could have thrust in all the way and thus forced Gandalf to take more than what was anatomically possible. He figured, however, that rupturing the wizard's internal organs would give him too quick a death, so he restrained himself.

Grinning, Sauron regarded Gandalf's flaccid cock that lay limp against his belly. It was large despite being soft, and Sauron, wanting to see it engorge, reached his hand down and began to stroke it in time with his thrusts.

Gandalf moaned feebly when he felt the hand kneading his flaccid member, but since the pain was so intense and burning, nothing Sauron did could give him an erection. He was happy for that. This time at least he didn't have to endure forced pleasure and the humiliation that came with it.

Finally Sauron climaxed, and Gandalf could feel the first splash of semen coating his abused insides. The Dark Lord continued to thrust until he had spent himself and the throbbing in his cock had ceased, satiating his carnal needs - for now.

Gandalf lay still, shaky and trembling when Sauron pulled out, accompanied by a wet, sucking sound. He prayed that the Dark Lord would not make him lick his cock clean this time. If that happened, he would most likely throw up or suffocate - neither was tempting.

But Sauron did not. Instead he used Gandalf's sheets to wipe himself clean from various bodily fluids and then lay down next to the wizard's prone naked body, pressing up against him. Gandalf didn't like the contact at all and tried to pull away, but Sauron's strong arm that wrapped around his waist did not allow him to.

Sated and pleased, the Dark Lord idly nuzzled the nape of the wizard's neck, placing slight, teasing licks on his skin. Gandalf squirmed uncomfortably. Why couldn't Sauron just leave now when he had gotten what he wanted? Was there no end to his torment?

Gandalf could feel Sauron smiling against his neck. His large hand slid over Gandalf's body, stroking his skin and playfully pinching his sore nipples. Finally it came to rest on his flat belly, and the Istar prayed it would not go lower.

"So... Olórin..." Sauron murmured, lips to Gandalf's neck. "Tell me... have you ever had a lover?"

"Yes..." Gandalf whispered.

"A male lover?"

"Yes..." the wizard croaked, together with a cough.

Sauron laughed. "I could almost guess that. So, who was it? Did I know him?"

Gandalf sighed. Sauron's speaking in the past tense clearly hinted that the Dark Lord assumed that his lover was either dead or gone.

"I do not want to discuss it..." he murmured, hoping that Sauron would not take offence and punish him for it.

"Why not?"

"Because it is personal. Can't you leave me alone now, Sauron? Why must you torment me like this? I thought you had gotten what you came for."

Again, the Dark Lord chuckled. "Alright, Olórin. I will let you keep a few secrets, if you insist. Just tell me if you "loved" him."

"I did love him," Gandalf admitted.

This time Sauron just snorted. "You are so naïve, Mithrandir. But so are all Maiar, except me, of course." Another chuckle. "As for your lover... it wasn't that fool Saruman, was it?"

"No," Gandalf sighed.

"I like you, a lot more than I like him. He is so sullen that even the nazgûl avoid him. You are different. That is why I chose you. You have spirits, Olórin. That is exactly the type of quality I want in a bed slave. I know not how much it takes to coerce you, but I will succeed. It is only a matter of time, and I believe we both have plenty of that, have we not?"

Sauron chuckled softly and brushed his tongue over Gandalf's nape. Gandalf hated him. He wanted Sauron to disappear so he could curl up and try to forget about the assault he had just suffered. The pain in his rear was there as a constant reminder, but compared to Sauron's presence and soft, slimy caresses, it was nothing.

"You will not kill me, will you?" Gandalf asked in a broken voice.

"Not in a thousand years," Sauron replied solemnly, and moved his hand to give the wizard's left buttock a teasing squeeze. Really, Gandalf was so thin he barely had much of an ass left, and his hipbones had become much too protuberant to be attractive.

"Very well, I suppose we are done for today," Sauron said and got up from the bed, smacking Gandalf's pale, bony rear on his way up.

The Dark Lord picked up his discarded clothes from the floor and slowly began to dress. He didn't tell Gandalf to assist him now, and for that the wizard was grateful. When he was finished, Sauron threw his long, glossy dark hair over his shoulder and combed his fingers through it to make it less unruly. With a smug smile, he crouched next to Gandalf's bed again and told the wizard, "Kiss me."

It took a while before Gandalf's brain could register that Sauron wanted him to kiss him this time, not the One Ring.

"No," he said flatly.

"Yes, Mithrandir. Kiss me," Sauron ordered in a slightly harsher tone.


"Because I tell you to. Do you still think you are in a position to deny me anything? Now do it!"

Gandalf sighed, realizing it probably would spare him a lot of discomfort, so he leaned forward and pressed a very quick and chaste kiss to Sauron's cheek. He believed it would be enough, but the Dark Lord did not share his opinion.

"Do you really call that a kiss, Olórin?" he asked scornfully. "I don't, so you will have to demonstrate your skills in a somewhat different way. Now kiss me!"

Gandalf knew that Sauron probably meant he wanted to be kissed on the lips. He definitely didn't want to do that - he had only kissed lovers in that fashion, and the Dark Lord was as far from a lover one could get. He was a rapist and a torturer.

An evil smirk crept over Sauron's face when he saw the wizard's reluctance and hesitation. "Gandalf," he said, "if kissing my lips doesn't suit you, perhaps you would like to kiss another part of my body instead, hmm?"

Gandalf shuddered when he heard the words and figured that the alternative was worse than kissing the Dark Lord's lips, so he did it, merely brushing his lips against Sauron's. Sauron did not want to leave it at that but grabbed Gandalf's head and roughly pressed their mouths together, forcing his tongue inside the wizard's mouth.

The Istar struggled and squeaked in protest, but it was no use. The "kiss", if one could call it that, lasted for about thirty seconds. When Sauron finally released him and drew back, Gandalf was gurgling and gasping for air, which then triggered another fierce attack of coughing.

Sauron simply glanced at him over his shoulder and left, clearly unaffected.

Gandalf was rubbing his eyes and using his hand to wipe off the snot and saliva that was pouring from his nose and mouth. His whole body was hurting terribly. Actually he didn't want to know how bad it was this time but realized that he had to check. There were bloodstains on the sheets, which he knew had come from him only a short while ago. Maybe he was still bleeding?

There was only one way to find out. Gandalf stuck his hand down between his legs and softly brushed his sore rear end. When he withdrew his fingers to have a look, he could see bright red bloodstains on them. He sighed. It did not seem that bad, though, and he figured that he'd live through it.

The dryness of his throat and the ache in his chest, which made breathing so heavy, plagued him as well. He wished he had a bowl of Saruman's herbal brew to ease the ache, or at least a cup of hot water, but now he had nothing.

The wizard curled up in a foetal position and pulled the blanket back over him for warmth. Sleep was the only thing that could help him heal, but he was not sure he'd even be able to sleep now. The pain in his rear was still so great, and his lungs... Actually it felt as if his lungs had been stuffed full of cotton, or something worse. Coughing helped, but only momentarily, and violent coughing only increased the pain.

He recalled Saruman saying that he needed to expectorate the phlegm that had formed in his lungs and airways. Of course. Its yellow-greenish colour was an ill sign, and his body needed to rid itself of it.

Despite the pain and the general discomfort caused by the disease, Gandalf managed to fall asleep a while later.

When Gandalf woke up again many hours later, he could see a dark shape sitting by his bed. Before he could stop himself, he gave out a terrified shriek, only to notice that it was merely Saruman. The fallen wizard lifted his eyes and briefly glanced at Gandalf before turning his head away again.

Relieved, Gandalf exhaled slowly. For a moment he had actually believed it was Sauron who had come back while he was sleeping.

"H-how long h-have you been here?" he managed to ask in a very hoarse voice. He had been sleeping with his mouth open, which had caused the dryness in his throat to become even worse.

"Not long. Five minutes, perhaps," Saruman replied with a quick shrug of his shoulders. When their eyes met, Gandalf could see that Saruman had a swollen, black eye, a bruised chin and a split lower lip. He tried to hide the marks with his long hair but failed miserably.

"Oh, Saruman... I am so sorry..." he began. "Did he...? I'm sorry you had to endure that for me. He didn't...?"

"No, he allowed me to keep my ear," Saruman replied dryly. "How generous!"

"You tried to save me," Gandalf said, not forgetting what had happened in this chamber only some hours ago.

"I tried to save myself..." Saruman muttered.

"You tried to save us both. I am sorry he beat you because of me. It was never my intention. But thank you for...trying to stop him."

Saruman shrugged. "I tried to tell him you were still mending, but he wouldn't listen. What did he do with you?"

Gandalf sighed, lowering his eyes in shame and disgust. "He raped me," he then said quietly.

"Oh. But you will live, I take it? Did he tear you?"

"I bled, but I will survive. Did he order you to check on me?"

"No," Saruman replied. "Sauron doesn't know that I've come here. I brought you some herbal brew and some food." He nodded at the tray he had placed on the beside-table, containing a bowl of the desired brew, a piece of bread, mixed vegetables and a cup of milk.

Gandalf absently licked his lips when he saw the food. He had not eaten anything for days, and his body had started to remind him of that. His instincts told him to snatch the tray and gobble down as much as possible before someone took it away from him, but he suppressed the impulse and looked back at Saruman.

"Thank you," he said.

Saruman shrugged again. "Don't thank me. Sauron doesn't seem to understand that you cannot live on air alone, so I had to come here without his knowledge."

"Would he...punish you if he found out you had come here?" Gandalf asked carefully.

"Possibly," Saruman replied. "I can't be sure. The Dark Lord is never pleased with anything I do."

"Why did you try to stop him?"


"Earlier today, in here," Gandalf said. "You asked him to let me be. Why did you do that?"

Saruman was troubled by the question because he had no real answer to it. Really, why had he tried to stop Sauron from hurting Gandalf? He should have known the Dark Lord would not tolerate it and that such an action would only get him into trouble, which it did. After the Lord had finished with Gandalf, he had gone straight after Saruman and punished him for his disobedience. The proofs were still obvious on his face.

"I..." he began, but couldn't think of a good way to continue. "I guess I didn't think at all."

"It was very brave of you to stand up against him."

Saruman shook his head with a sarcastic chuckle. Brave? He? Those two words just didn't go together. He wasn't brave, far from it. He was a spineless coward who always followed the mainstream and trimmed his sails according to the wind, usually to save his own skin. Gandalf wasn't like that at all, and that made him a lot braver than Saruman himself.

Saruman hated to confess that to himself, but it was the truth.

"No, I mean it," Gandalf persisted. "You can't believe how bad I felt when I saw what he did to you because of me."

Saruman tried to recoil when Gandalf reached out his hand towards him to hold his hair back and have a better look at his abused face. Sauron had hurt him today, but not half as bad as he had hurt Gandalf. All he had were a few bruises and swellings, while his fellow Istar had been assaulted in the most humiliating way.

Gandalf cupped Saruman's cheek in his hand, trying to draw him closer. Saruman resisted, not wanting to accept the affection Gandalf offered him.

"Please come here, let me hold you," Gandalf whispered. "I haven't held or been held by anyone in such a long time. Maybe it could make me forget what Sauron did to me, or at least make it more bearable."

Saruman reluctantly gave in, and allowed Gandalf to pull him into an embrace. His tall, lanky frame was stiff and taut, but he gradually relaxed as other wizard rubbed his back and softly stroked his long white hair with his hand. He did not return the embrace but leaned heavily against Gandalf, who had to fight to cope with the sudden extra weight.

Saruman was used to being lonely. During his stay in Middle Earth, he had spent most his time locked up inside Orthanc, rarely seeing other people, except those who came to see him. He had never had a lover, and his list of friends had been short; most of the people he knew were just acquaintances, not real friends. Gandalf had been his friend, of course, both before they were sent to Middle Earth and during most of their time here. Now, though, that time seemed to be an eon away.

Both Istari were quiet for as long as the embrace lasted. It was Saruman who finally broke it by pulling back from Gandalf and removing the arms wrapped around him. He was feeling abashed and didn't quite know what to do or say. Gandalf was the one who had been raped and assaulted, and still it felt as if Gandalf had been comforting him.

"Please, stay here with me tonight," Gandalf pleaded. "I don't want to be alone."

"Why? Are you scared of the dark?" Saruman muttered.

"Not the dark."

"I cannot protect you from him," Saruman said shortly and began to rise from his chair. "I cannot linger here. You should know that. And I can't say I desire it, either. I have to leave."

Gandalf sighed. Saruman was still proud, of course, and his pride was one thing that wasn't easily taken from him. And then he was scared of Sauron, which he certainly should be.

"Saruman... thank you," he said one last time before the fallen Istar got up and padded toward the door. Saruman's carriage - his taut shoulders and curved back in particular - revealed that he was feeling nervous and uncomfortable. Gandalf felt sorry for his fellow wizard, but at the same time he knew that much of what had happened to Saruman was his own fault.

"Enjoy the food..." Saruman muttered and briefly glanced at Gandalf before leaving.

"Believe me, I will..." Gandalf whispered to himself and lifted the tray onto his lap and finally allowed himself to let go. And the food was welcome.