Tainted

by Milly of Isengard

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Gandalf/Saruman

Disclaimer: no bread made, of course. Saru belongs to me (I wish) everybody else JRR's.

Warnings: strong slash / angst / violence / torture (halfling and otherwise)

Summary: Gandalf goes alone to Isengard in an attempt to parlay Saruman into surrendering - or failing that, to at least bring him back alive. It goes badly, and Gandalf falls prey to his former friend. To make it even worse, the halflings Merry and Pippin are captured and brought to Orthanc.


Chapter 17 - Return to Life

Gandalf slowly opened his eyes, and tried to come back to lucidity- his head hurt, and he felt very dizzy.

He gradually took in his surroundings, and then recalled what had happened.

Saruman! he thought suddenly, in dismay and fear.

Shakily, he stood up, and looked around at the ruin of Isengard.

The entire Tower had fallen, and it lay like a gigantic black tree on its side, still intact. There were smoking shards of obsidian everywhere, and the mud and river water were turning a deep, strange black from the soot.

Somehow, he had survived.

Desperately, he looked around for Saruman.

Carefully, he walked on unsteady legs through the chaos, and then- he caught a glimpse of white.

He rushed over, and saw that it was indeed Saruman, and he lay very still, eyes closed.

Distraught with grief, Gandalf knelt down, fighting back tears.

"Curumo-I failed you..."

He felt for Saruman's heartbeat, gently putting a scorched hand on his unmoving chest.

Silence.

Stricken, Gandalf touched Saruman's soot stained face, and ran his fingers down his cheek.

Then he bowed his head, closed his eyes, and murmured, "Why? Why must it be this way? Why? Is there nothing I can do?"

"You have done enough, my old friend."

Gandalf opened his eyes again, in disbelief.

Saruman lived!

He was looking at Gandalf with his dark wise stare, only now- now there was no malice- no lie in those eyes.

"Saruman!"

Gandalf was beside himself, and he embraced Saruman with all his strength.

"Gandalf-" Saruman whispered, "You- you nearly died to save me- why?"

"Need you even ask?", Gandalf breathed in his ear, and then kissed him on the throat, and then looked him in the eyes again.

Saruman looked at him strangely, almost as if there was great deal he was unclear on.

But then he smiled, and Gandalf remembered how he had looked before he had fallen- and though he could scarcely believe it, he was seeing it again. It was a beautiful sight.

"I love you, Curunír," he said very softly, leaning forward and tentatively placing his lips on Saruman's mouth- he looked into the eyes of his old Mentor, and felt as if he were falling into that inky blackness, only this time, it was safe to fall.

Saruman stared back into his gaze, with his unsettling steadiness- and then he closed his eyes, and returned the kiss with passion and fire.

They fell back together onto the sooty ground, as the sky still rained down smoky remnants.

"Gandalf- lisse melda-", Saruman murmured, his voice very thick and urgent.

They lay against each other, each feeling and enjoying the heat of the other, and pressing closely.

Gandalf felt his desire rising with a fearful intensity, and he moved atop Saruman, his hands finding their way under the now-tattered white robes, as they were still kissing with soft wet tongues.

"Gandalf- let it be as it was- and more than that! As you gave yourself for me, I now give myself to you."

Their legs entwined, Gandalf pushed against Saruman, his head spinning with excitement.

Their cocks were both fully aroused and close together, hard and aching already, and Gandalf moved against Saruman, increasing the sensations.

Under an apocalyptic canopy of smoke, they would make love, oblivious to the nightmare unfolding from Mordor, and, for a sweet though short time, free of the thrall of the danger.