#saurdar

[cuentoschinosen1999]

Sauron and Adar meet again: The stupid version.

[the-winnowing-wind]

My chat with Sam Hazeldine about Adar is finally here. It includes discussions of the below and more:

Adar’s origins

What it means that he was the father of Uruk

His messy relationships (romances) with Sauron and Galadriel

His complicated feelings about being an elf

His is deep, deep trauma

His love of elven poetry

[gauntletgirlie]

Why don’t you ship Adar with anyone?

Obviously, if a ship brings joy to your life then go for it! I love seeing all the artwork 🖤 but here are my reasons why I just can’t ship, sorry it’s long…

A lot of Tolkien’s work features strong platonic relationships. They are deep and meaningful. Frodo and Sam are an obvious example. I feel like in today’s society, we see connection, shared experiences, and immediately assign romance to it. Or sexuality. Sometimes this is correct and it’s great, but it’s always just slapped onto every relationship between any two characters now. You can be tender and not be in love. You can be kind and not romantically attached. You can be attracted to someone and compliment them without wanting to form any romantic attachment or be sexually motivated.

Whilst I find the idea of Sauron’s “exes” allying against him hilarious and am loving the memes, I don’t find the notion of Adar being in love with Sauron romantically at any point valid. Maybe as a saviour, a fellow victim of Morgoth’s sadism, a powerful ally, etc. then yes. I think being in love with people without it being romantic/sexual all the time isn’t explored enough, but Tolkien did explore it more.

I love all the interactions of Adar and Galadriel. He clearly thinks highly of her. She probably reminds him of his past elvish life and the light he turned away from. The last scene of them together was beautiful but I don’t believe it was romantic. It was two beings who had suffered at Sauron’s hands, who had been through the lies, manipulation, and pain coming to terms with one another; recognising the good in each other and wanting to unite that, whilst acknowledging their differences (Adar not wanting to become an elf again, choosing Uruk fatherhood). It was acceptance and understanding of a beautiful nature. I think Adar giving Nenya back was a proposal, just not a romantic one.

Elves mate for life (Finwë being the only exception I can think of and it didn’t end well for him…), so Galadriel would still be very much in love with Celeborn. It wouldn’t be crossing her mind to find someone else. If Celeborn wasn’t in the picture at all, I would be an Adariel shipper for sure though.

Adar telling Elrond he has the beauty of his forebear Melian was such a Tolkien way of doing things. It’s Adar showing he knows Elrond’s lineage. It’s not Adar flirting. Normalise male compliments being platonic.

Also Melian was Maia and so beautiful Thingol (who went on to marry her) just stared at her in a stupor for a looooong time. Mairon (Sauron) as a maia would have been objectively beautiful as well. So Adar was just recognising beauty as it existed, same way you’d call artwork beautiful. Which is a very elvish thing to do.

The real reason I don’t ship Adar with another character is because I’m too busy shipping him with me.

[maironscrotchlessbreeches]

Adar fic sample whaaaaaaaaaaat

Oh it's ON. This is going to wind up being a long-ass motherflinger with a VARIETY of Adar ships but since this is a scene that stands alone pretty well here you go. The famous wine date on the mountain. No actual boinking but lots of hot and bothered.

---

The sound of the wind had changed.

He lifted his face from the stone floor, cold-cracked lips parted. Icy air drew tears from his reddened eyes.

How long had he lain there, chained within a crevice on that dark, nameless peak? He had lost track long ago, and ceased caring shortly thereafter.

He thought he heard footsteps hidden in the roar of the wind. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled his naked form even tighter, remembering the wicked cruelty in Melkor’s angelic face. The rebirth, the blessing would come, he repeated to himself as he had so many times before, if he could only persist.

Warmth. The scent of incense and clove. He opened his eyes.

Before him, barefoot in the snow, stood the most frighteningly beautiful being he had ever beheld. Not an elf like he, but similar in form to one, with eyes the color of sunlit honey and hair like the finest spun copper.

Without a word this not-an-elf knelt, offering a silver chalice. Heat radiated from its graceful body and the fragrance grew heady. He raised his filthy body into a pitiful crouch. He saw that the chalice held rich, vibrant red wine and he reached to take it with both trembling hands. The not-an-elf smiled and helped him tip the liquid to his parched lips, its other hand gently supporting the back of his neck.

The wine was thick, with an odd musky tang, but it freed his tongue from the roof of his mouth and he swallowed desperately.

“Slowly, Galgakh,” the being said with a laugh like a choir of bells, its voice soft and warm as summer rain. “You’ll make yourself ill.”

Galgakh. Ill. He did not understand these words.

His rescuer settled alongside him and removed the chalice from his reach. The world around him seemed to spin and something lurched deep within his guts, a new sensation. But he was finally warm, and slightly less thirsty. He felt the sumptuous texture of the being’s cloak drape around his shoulders and he collapsed into waiting arms, his body wracked with soundless sobs.

With elegant hands the not-an-elf stroked his dark, snarled hair, cradling his head to its chest. Uncounted moments passed. His head swam and he reached for the chalice of wine. It found his hands and he downed the rest of it, not caring about the rivulets that trickled around the corners of his mouth.

Jeweled fingers found the soft flesh under his jaw and lifted his chin. Those otherworldly eyes, like amber lit from within, so close now that he could see delicate ginger lashes, searched his face with a hunger that matched the gnawing in his belly.

“Galgakh,” the stranger murmured.

Now he understood. This was his name. The warm flutter of breath on his cheek raised bumps on his arms.

Galgakh’s savior pressed its lips to his, impossibly soft yet fierce and wanting. A tremor rippled down his spine and he suddenly felt like his skin was too tight to contain his flesh. A dull ache, not unpleasant, kindled like a flame low between his hips and began to grow. His fëa was silent but his heart pounded like a drum in his chest. Galgakh returned the kiss with ravenous intensity, basking in this intoxicating flood of physical sensation. He tasted blood but whose it was, he could not say. A breath caught in his throat and became a groan, the sound of it surprising him with its decadence. He felt his partner smile, flirtatious, arrogant even, but approving.

Just as Galgakh’s hands began searching for an opening to the fine crimson robes before him, he found himself pushed away. That face of unearthly beauty was smeared with - blood? Wine? He could not tell, but the thought slipped from his mind as easily as it had come.

“Enough.” The silky voice was firm but coy. “This place is not for you. Come. Your family awaits.”

“Wait,” Galgakh said, his voice hoarse from disuse. “What am I to call you?”

The perfect form was already standing and turning to leave. It paused and glanced at Galgakh with a radiant smile.

“I am Mairon.”

[liminal-zone]

A PERFECT SCENE. THE ABSOLUTE RICH TEXT OF SUBTEXT HERE. DAMN. THESE TWO. LET'S FUCKING GO.

All Hail, Lord Sauron! The New Dark Lord!

[cuentoschinosen1999]

Sauron and Adar meet again.

Who's ready for TROP S2 ending? Not me. It felt so fast.

[the-winnowing-wind]

Twenty fics, for shame!

[caitliwinks]

— And after what seemed endless thirst and hunger...I saw it. His servant's face. Sauron's face. And it was beautiful. He offered me wine, red as a blood moon. He offered me wine, and on that dark and nameless peak, I drank it. I drank it all.

[the-winnowing-wind]

SaurDar baby!

Holding a dagger to the throat and stabbing each other with pointy objects is their love language it seems

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

Funny/angsty ficlet request: pre-Forodwaith, Sauron keeps Adar in line by slipping him a love potion. Adar… doesn’t take it well when he finds out where his lovesick devotion stems from.

HAHAHAHA OKAY so this did NOT turn out funny....

but here you goooooo:

“What troubles you?” Sauron’s breath is a sharp flame, licking against the back of his neck. The maia stands close—too close. Adar clenches his gauntleted hand, shrugging away, countering around the opposite side of the large, stone table. The ample fire crackles within the hearth, sending black and amber shadows dancing and writhing across the chamber walls. The maia flashes him a smile that does not reach his eyes. “You look in need of rest,” Sauron’s eyes roam unhurriedly over him, always assessing, and Adar’s eyes fall to the goblet in his hand. “Drink this,” Sauron says, and it is a command, not an offer. “It is a tonic,” he adds, seeing the aversion in Adar’s eyes. He had suspected, for some time now, that Sauron has been… tampering… with his mind. His memories of the last weeks in the fortress are… muddied. Recalling them is like gazing into a brackish pool, the bottom of which is illusory and vague. All he has are flashes—mere glimpses, impossible to decipher: hands grasping desperately, a vice-like grip around his throat, fever-hot breath against his ear, and always—always—a slavish sense of yearning. He feels it now, though he does not wish to, gazing at the maia’s pale face, his red hair, perfectly kempt, the careful, intricate embellishments on his tunic. There is an order to him that demands to be disrupted. Unbidden, Adar’s fingers flex, as though desperate to claw at Sauron’s perfect collar and sink his teeth into the maia’s alabaster neck. He shakes himself, snarling like a wolf. “What have you done to me?” Sauron’s eyes flash, a dangerous warning. “I simply offered you a respite,” he says, his silky voice dropping low. Cat-like, he stalks around the table, one measured step at a time, pinning Adar beneath his gaze. “You were in such anguish after the war. You wanted an escape from the pain. I gave it to you.” Coming close, he leans in, pressing his lips against Adar’s ear. “I can give it to you again,” he says. “Will you drink?” Disgust curdles to desire in the pit of his stomach. Shuddering, Adar takes a single step back, just enough to look into Sauron’s golden eyes. Without a word, and without breaking eye contact, he reaches for the goblet. He presses it to his lips, and drinks it all.

also calling this to the attention of @brynnmclean , JUST BECAUSE

[gingeragenda]

Anemoia (Chapter 2 of 2)

Adar/Mairon, Celebrimbor/Annatar (no real Brimby smut though sorry) Explicit. Continues from Anemoia Chapter One

Part of Dream a Little Dream of Me (your worst nightmare)

[maironscrotchlessbreeches]

it’s my Adar thang. I combined chapters 1 and 2. A LOT more to come.

[the-winnowing-wind]

SAURDAR!!! (Rises in the east!)

Not a GaladrielxHalbrand shipper nor a ElrondxCelebrimbor shipper but a third other thing.... AdarxHalbrand shipper 😓😓😓😓

[the-winnowing-wind]

In the Absence of Stars || Sauron/Adar Ficlet

My take on the "I Drank It All" Scene, which I could not, of course, help but write!!!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58626418

Summary:

A hand comes to cup his cheek, and he leans into the gesture.

He could see his body, frail and flayed, if he tried now, he knows. He could see the manacle that so long held him, invisible in the dark. He could see the tremble of his fingers.

But all he sees is Sauron.

---

Or, on a dark and nameless peak, the darkness eats away at Adar. Or, after ages in the nothing, Sauron brings Adar light, and he is beautiful. Or, how could I not write this scene?

[the-winnowing-wind]

Okay, here it is!!! My SaurDar fan vid creation!

Honestly, watching all of Adar's footage again, I was shocked by how much I had MISSED the first twenty times through when it comes to how entwined Adar and Sauron are together. Helplessly entwined, in Adar's case. And how tragic that just as Adar imagines maybe he's finally shaken his shackles loose and found his home, Sauron is already envisioning its destruction.

I had a great time breaking down every line, so I hope you have a great time watching!!!

TL;DR Sauron is like a drug Adar just can't quite quit. (And he's definitely like his terrible ex-boyfriend.)

[drartslog]

*eats rock not to muffled scream*