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Unravelling the secrets of the Unseen World was a task that Sauron had devoted millennia to. Ever since he was embodied in physical form, he had wanted to fully understand the connection between spirit and body, the power that one held over the other, and how to harness that to achieve even greater forms. When in the service of his master Morgoth, he had whole dungeons full of test subjects for his work. Orcs, Men, Dwarves, Elves, all were necessary for his research. From them he brought forth all kinds of creatures, found out all kinds of secrets, and yet, the well of knowledge grew no shallower. So when his Master was cast into the void, he did not end his work. Far from it, now he had even more freedom. No longer did he have to be distracted by the industries of war, he could devote all his time to his work in the dark, far-flung fortresses that the Valar had overlooked in their bid to overthrow Angband.
It was in one of these hideaways far to the East that he found himself again, years after that delusional Moriandor “Adar” had sliced him open and forced him to put his research into action and re-embody himself.
This particular workshop had been devoted to experiments on Elves. Elves of course, being Eru’s Firstborn, the beings with the most connection to the circles of the world, not even departing with death. During the great War his Master had made prisoner countless Elves, and Sauron had picked the strongest for his experiments. He had pushed all of them to the very limits of their endurance, ripped the spirits from their bodies and bound them back in, even attempted to carve into their very souls themselves. There was not a single atrocity he hadn’t committed against these subjects, for there was no limit to his curiosity.
Slowly, the number of his test subjects dwindled. Some collapsed under the strain of their torment, and their bodies could no longer house their spirits. Some, when he pulled their spirits from their bodies, took the chance to flee West, leaving their bodies empty husks. Others simply lost the will to exist - rotting both body and soul and crumbling into dust.
All except one.
His last surviving subject was a surprise to him. Not one of the Eldar, who had seen the light of the trees. But one of the Sindar, who had never stepped foot in the Blessed Realm. And not one of great noble standing either.
He was Celeborn of Doriath, and he had been in Sauron’s possession for over a thousand years now.
It had been some time since Sauron had visited this particular fortress. To be honest, he had wrung out every useful bit of knowledge he could out of Celeborn’s body and soul. But despite the uncountable agonies he had subjected the Elf to, his will remained intact. His spirit had not fled, his body had not broken, and most surprisingly, he had never, not once in a millennia, begged for mercy. There were many Elves who had, some who even had become Sauron’s servants to put an end to their suffering. But Celeborn had stubbornly clung to life and kept his pride. And because of this, Sauron would not kill him. He may be more practical than his master was, but he shared a distaste for defiance. He would bow before he gave him the mercy of death.
He was in almost exactly the same position that Sauron had last left him. Completely stripped bare, he lay against the wall of a cell, body bound with black vines in a mockery of the forests that the Sindar so loved. His body was so emaciated as to look skeletal. Elves could not die of hunger or thirst of course, and the magic he had weaved into the vines would ensure he had enough sustenance to be lucid. And yet, there was still beauty in him. His long silver hair trailed all the way to the floor, almost creating a pool of moonlight around him. He spent nearly all his time sleeping, except when Sauron came to visit, such was his physical weakness. Despite the position, his face seemed to be peaceful.
Sauron wondered if he dreamt about Galadriel.
That was the reason why Sauron was now glad he hadn’t killed him. He was, after all, Galadriel’s husband. And he would be the key to bringing her under his heel.
-0-
They were by the seaside again
“Say, Celeborn…”
He looked up at his beloved. Her hair was wet with the sea air, yet still as bright as the sun. Still, her beauty could not mask the troubled look on her face.
“What is it, my love?”
Galadriel looked into Celeborn’s eyes. It felt like she was reaching inside him, grasping him like she was drowning and he was her only lifeboat.
“...once Morgoth is defeated, will you have a child with me?”
Celeborn blinked with surprise. She had never mentioned children before. They had been married soon after meeting, knowing from first sight that they were each other’s destined ones. But despite encouragement from others, they had not had children, or even spoken of them. Celeborn knew why. Galadriel did not want to bring children into a world where Morgoth ruled. The fact that she was saying this now… meant that despite the despair around them, she had hope.
Celeborn smiled at her, “Of course, my love. Have you thought of a name?”
Galadriel laughed, “Oh, so eager,” she leaned into him “I haven’t decided yet. But I’d like something connected to your name,”
Celeborn felt his face flush. Despite her assurances, he’d always felt himself unworthy of her. She was a princess of the Noldor, while he was merely a Sindar who had wandered into her in the woods one day. To think that she’d want to name their child after him-
“Oh, is that what she wanted? Perhaps I should have led with that…”
Celeborn’s head shot up at the unfamiliar voice. Standing on the beach behind Galadriel was a Man dressed in a long black cloak.
No, not a Man. Celeborn had suffered this being's presence in his mind too many times to not recognise him. He snarled.
“Begone from my dreams, demon,”
Sauron smiled. It was strange in this form. Why a Man? He usually appeared as an Elf when he was trying to be friendly, and when he wasn’t…..
“Oh Celeborn, you speak as if there’s anything of yours that’s not also mine,” he knelt down behind his dream of Galadriel, who continued to act as if there was only Celeborn there, “In fact, I came here to tell you I’ve taken something else of yours too,” he reached out his hand, and touched dream-Galadriel’s face.
Celeborn felt fury rise in him. He leapt forward to push Sauron away. But when his hands touched the image of his enemy, his mind was assailed with images of Galadriel. Not memories either. But her older, with the weight of many battles dampening her bright gaze. Her on a raft in the ocean, her standing in some palace hall, her in a prison cell, her resplendent in armour on the prow of a ship, her covered in blood from a battle, her by a river, wearing a bright green dress and looking up in fear at-
Celeborn was thrown painfully awake
-0-
Sauron smiled at the Elf before him. He hung from the vines, panting heavily, eyes thrown open in terror. He hadn’t seen this look on Celeborn in years. Centuries of pain had dulled his reactions, to the point that Sauron could carve the Elf’s chest open and pull out the organs and he would barely react.
But this… Sauron was not one to enjoy the pain of others. He was, after all, a lover of order. All pain inflicted needed to be for the greater good. But it gave him joy to see Celeborn bowed in despair. Ever since he discovered his relationship to Galadriel he felt annoyance that such a lowly Elf could have been picked to be the husband of such a great power as Galadriel.
He could hear him weeping. Good. Was he despairing at his closeness to her? That she had seen him as an equal, a match, and even when he had shown his true self to her she had been tempted, only rejecting him out of childish fear. He knelt down to look at Celeborn’s face.
But instead of seeing a face twisted in anguish, Celeborn was… smiling?
“Galadriel… my love… you still look… so beautiful...”
-0-
Celeborn hadn’t felt joy like this in a thousand years. He had the comfort of his memories, but had to rely on his imagination and the few taunts Sauron had made about her “failed quest to find him” to keep Galadriel in his mind. But now to see these memories of Sauron - which were recent memories, judging by his new form - brought gladness to his heart. Galadriel was still fighting, still not giving up the task that she had set her heart to.
Yet at the same time, Celeborn felt rage and cursed his weakness. He had seen in those memories how Sauron in the guise of the human “Halbrand” had deceived and manipulated his beloved, even tried to kill her at the end. To make a fool of the most perfect and beautiful being to walk on Middle Earth… that hurt him more than centuries of torture.
Suddenly he felt a sharp pain as Sauron grabbed his hair and forced him to face him. “Aren’t you going to thank me, Lord Celeborn?” said the demon. Celeborn couldn’t help but note how strange this human guise looked on him. It made him look even pettier than usual.
Celeborn smirked. “Thank you for what? For trying to hurt me? That was your intention, was it not? To attempt to trick me into thinking my beloved has betrayed me?” He laughed shallowly “Once again, you fail to understand our devotion. But a creature with no love in your heart wouldn’t be able to understand, would you?”
Sauron frowned for a moment, and Celeborn delighted. Had he hurt the Dark Lord’s feelings?
Sauron shook his head, and laughed, “You are right, Lord Celeborn. I did underestimate Galadriel. Despite handing her everything she ever wanted, she denied me out of foolish pride. Which is why, I must give her a better offer,” he looked straight into Celeborn’s eyes, “Which is you.”
Celeborn puzzled for a moment as to what he meant. Then his eyes darkened, “I will never surrender my will to yours, Sauron, servant of Morgoth.”
“Who said you need to surrender anything?” said Sauron, “All I want is for Galadriel to see my true nature, and understand that I want for nothing but to heal Middle Earth. Just say the word, and I can release you from this prison, and take you to her myself, so she may know my generosity. You will have no oath or duty to me. All I wish is for her to know that I brought her husband back from hell for her alone.”
Celeborn pulled his head away from Sauron’s grasp. “I refuse.”
Sauron raised his eyebrows. “You refuse? You would rather stay here, away from the sun and stars, in torment and agony for eternity, then be reunited with your love?”
“I will not have you use me against her!” Celeborn snapped back, “Her heart's desire is your death, to take any mercy from you would betray her utterly!” he took a deep breath, “I would rather suffer eternally than cause her any doubt or pain!”
Celeborn expected that Sauron would look taken aback at this, but instead he smiled. “Lord Celeborn… just remember, you asked for this,” he reached out and grasped Celeborn’s face, “And also, it isn’t a choice. You will suffer eternally, and you will cause Galadriel great pain. You don’t get to negotiate with a god.”
-0-
They were by the seaside again.
Galadriel could see her husband in front of her, the silver of his hair merging with the grey clouds behind him. He met her gaze and smiled shyly at her, then averted her gaze. She giggled. Centuries of marriage and he was still as shy as a young boy.
“It must be a comforting thing, that you both have the same favourite memories.”
Galadriel froze. That was the voice of Halbrand- no Sauron. Could he invade her dreams even apart from her?
She stood up, turning to the “Man” behind her, “Begone from my mind, demon.”
Sauron smiled, “There is nothing of yours that is not mine, Galadriel. And you don't want me gone. Not truly,"
Galadriel gritted her teeth, "Keep your delusions to yourself,"
Sauron shook his head. "Believe what you want, Galadriel. But don't reject me here. Not when I’m the only one who can let you see him,” he gestured over her shoulder to the dream-Celeborn.
Galadriel bristled at this, “Stay out of my memories. I will not allow you to corrupt them like you corrupted my brother’s,”
Sauron smiled again, a serene smile so unlike the cocky smirk “Halbrand” had. “I don’t mean in your memories, Galadriel. I mean in reality,” his smile widened to grotesque proportions, “He lives, did you not know? At my mercy,”
Suddenly her mind was assailed with images. Celeborn, bound in vines in some dark dungeon. His body torn and burnt and twisted. Screams, wails, curses, but no begging for mercy, not even for a moment. His very skin carved open and his insides laid bare, only to be sewn up again so the torment could start anew. Even worse agonies that could not be described in the physical, but sickened Galadriel’s very mind to witness.
Galadriel woke up from that nightmare screaming. Her whole body wracked with sobs, and despite the maid's best efforts she could not stop. It was only when Elrond was called for and he gently held her in his arms that she could achieve a modicum of calm.
“Please, Galadriel,” Elrond said, his voice full of worry. “What happened?”
It took several minutes for Galadriel to compose herself, and even when she did, she did not want to speak the words. But she must speak them, because she knew in her heart all she had seen was reality.
“Celeborn… is alive. As a prisoner of Sauron”.