I was tagged by @ladysterndust to share one of my wips, and I thought that's the perfect opportunity to share a bit from the upcoming chapter of my Elrond/Sauron fic: He Who Flees the Light. It's been a while for that one, because editing - or rather completely rewriting - this chapter has been a complete pain in the ass, but I can finally say I've finished the rewriting part and am now back to actual editing! So hopefully it won't be long now until I can get it up :))
Whereas Celebrimbor’s mangled corpse now hangs at the outside of the city gates, Elrond has it almost comfortable down in his bland cell. When Mairon enters, the half-elf lies curled on his side, only his injured leg stretched out. Judging by the fall of his trousers, there is a thick bandage around his knee, likely thick enough that he wouldn’t be able to bend it even if he tried. His arms are still bound behind his back and the gag is still in place just as he’d ordered, and for a while Mairon just listens to the soft snoring, watches the trail of drool that connects Elrond’s mouth to the small puddle below his cheek.
There is something mesmerizing about watching a body in such a defenseless state, face soft and relaxed, chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. The exhaustion makes the other’s sleep deep and true, something Mairon is used to seeing in captives. Often, this makes them appear small, weak to him, broken in combination with the rest of their physical state, but in this case, Elrond looks strangely peaceful.
He has been washed and put into clean clothes, though they have already begun dirtying again through prolonged wearing, and are adorned with some specks of relatively fresh-looking blood. Perhaps he has tried to fight during the last time he’s been taken to change the dressings on his leg. The space under his eyes still carries visible bruising, although judging by the hues it seems to be on the verge of healing, and his nose is still somewhat swollen. Mairon can tell that beneath the swelling, there is a dent in the bridge now, an imperfection that will stay– unlike the small red blotch on his lip. The skin must have burst there, too, when he’d fallen on his face, and the blood from his nose hidden the injury at first. Somehow, Mairon’s eyes feel strangely drawn to that point.
tagging: @leviosally, @ulmondil, @chephalopods, @amorbidcorvid, @crypticcuntking and @slightnettles to share anything you're working on atm! (no pressure ofc)
