What Gandalf Didn't Tell

Disclaimer: The 'Lord of the Rings' characters contained herein are not my property. They belong to Tolkien and I've borrowed them for this time. These names have been used without permission. All else is my own creation.

Rating: R Most Definitely AU. Pay attention to that one. Language, violence and N/C graphic sex with a bit of torture thrown in. Don't forget the M/M aspect. Oh, and depending on your view of orcs, Beast. Don't say you weren't warned.

Author: Vasalysa, with many undying thanks to Geek.

What Gandalf Didn't Tell

Chapter One

In the sky over a black tower thrusting arrogantly upward, the high thin clouds donned their multicolored hues to herald the ending of the day. At the pinnacle of the tower, a tired and worn form paused in his pacing, drawn to the sight, desperate to drink in the beauty before darkness surrounded him once more. The evening breeze lifted and teased the white beard and hair, penetrating the gray robes, causing him to shiver.

“Well, Gandalf, here's yet another long night perched up here like some chick unable to leave the nest.” He laughed bitterly. “How long have I enjoyed Saruman's 'hospitality' now? Ten, eleven, no, twelve nights this will be. Food's been sparing at best, the mattress hard as stone, and there's a bloody draft.” Rubbing his arms, Gandalf watched the last rays of the sun vanish. He sighed. “That's it. Nothing now except for the fires down below and they just aren't bright enough to read by. Ah, but the starlight will keep me from inadvertently stepping out into nothingness.”

Pacing the perimeter once more, Gandalf continued rubbing his arms. He paused at one of the sixteen pillars, still able to marvel at the craftsmanship necessary to create the masterpiece he stood upon. No seams were visible to show where stones lay upon other stones. The opening to the stairway leading down into the interior of the tower stood revealed to him as a greater darkness in the night. Slowly he resumed pacing, all too keenly aware that he could only divert his attention away from his predicament for moments at a time. The cold ate away at him and he knew that his captor counted on the physical discomfort to weaken him. The worse thing was that he knew it was working, especially since he had inadvertently done some of Saruman's work. Little food or water for eleven days after the sixteen days of hard riding it had taken him to arrive at Isengard to get to what he thought was help drained his strength and he expected Saruman to appear at any time to begin the serious interrogation. It worried him that Saruman had come to gloat only a handful of times since placing him in his aerie prison.

Light blazed from the stairway, dazzling Gandalf. He flung his hands up, shielding his eyes, and backed away from the stairs doorway. His ribs and back still ached fiercely and bore the marks of the first nocturnal visit paid him. The hulking human guards had decided he stood too near the stairs. Saruman had watched with a cruel smile as the three men beat him. He had managed to avoid a repeat 'lesson' so far.

Four men strode into view and his heart skipped a beat, although he had been expecting it. He dropped his hands to his sides. “So, it begins at last,” he said quietly. “It took him long enough to get around to it.”

The blond man carrying the torch set it in a bracket on the pillar nearest the stairway. His brown eyes met Gandalf's blue ones challengingly. “This is how it will be, prisoner. We are going to secure you as our Master orders. Both of us know you can fight, taking out possibly all four of us. If so, then the next four will come up. And the next four. And the next four. And so on. You may kill a great many of us, but our Master has given us this task and we will do it, no matter how many of us die. There will be no food or water until you have been secured and prepared as our Master wishes. How long that is will be up to you.”

Hunger and thirst intensified, reminding Gandalf that it had been more than two days since his last few meager sips of water and longer since a couple of mouthfuls of bread. His eyes dropped to the burdens the other three men bore and swallowed. He tore his gaze from the chains and shackles. “How do I know you speak the truth about the food and water?”

The man grinned, sending shivers down Gandalf's spine. “I do not lie, but if this will reassure you...” He reached into a pouch on his waist. A chunk of bread larger than his fist and a bit smaller piece of cheese were brought into view. “This is the food. Fresh cheese, fresh bread. See?”

Seeing how easily the bread parted under the man's fingers made Gandalf's mouth water. “And the water? How much?”

“A full cup, provided of course that it doesn't go over the side with one of us.”

Gandalf knew how parched he was and that he needed to husband his strength for the upcoming ordeal. Fighting an endless number of men who would eventually overpower him would be a pointless exercise. Praying only that this man had some shred of decency and would keep the bargain, Gandalf slowly raised his arms before him. He watched as the food was set at the base of the pillar with the torch.

In minutes, Gandalf lay on the cold stone, bound hand and foot. The leader took the single torch and started walking the perimeter, lighting the nine torches on every other pillar. Once the torches were lit, he turned to his men. “We have a job to do.”

Hammers and spikes were brought to hand. The three men went to work as the leader crouched near Gandalf. “It took our Master three days to find the right combination of things to make a spike that will penetrate the rock. He was very cross by the time he figured it out.” He rose and put the torch in the remaining bracket before joining the lone man.

In pairs, the men worked at two pillars across the width of the observation deck, hammering in a spike at the base of the pillar. Next one of the men crouched so that the other could climb up and reach the upper portion of the pillar to pound in a second spike. Rings were slipped through the openings at the base of the spikes. With a flash of light, the rings fused themselves shut. Two solid spikes were driven into the pillars, near the first two and pointed at an angle away from the now ringed spikes. Chains were attached to the shackles binding Gandalf and run through the rings.

Talking rapidly in a language Gandalf had never heard, each man seized a chain and pulled. A cry was wrenched from Gandalf's throat as he was jerked into the air, arms over his head, feet just out of reach of the stone deck.

The men holding the chains glanced at the leader who moved around to stand before Gandalf. He reached down and touched the ankle shackles. The men pulled and Gandalf cried out again as his legs were yanked viciously apart. The chains were slipped over the solid spikes and the pressure tearing his legs apart eased slightly. The procedure was repeated with his arms until Gandalf hung spread-eagle between the pillars.

A sharp dagger in hand, the leader unfastened Gandalf's belt.

“Food, water.” Gandalf wondered if it had all been a lie.

“I said after you were secured and prepared.” The leader opened the robe and proceeded to slice along the shoulder seams. “My Master says you are to be stripped.”

Soon Gandalf's naked body shivered in the torchlight. The leader turned to his men. “Tell our Master that I am now feeding the prisoner.” He stepped over to where he had left the food as the three men left.

“What is your name?” Gandalf asked, trying to ease the pain in his shoulders and hips.

“My name is unimportant.” A small chunk of bread and cheese were held before Gandalf's mouth.

It took an effort to keep from snatching the food. Gandalf used his mouth carefully, not wanting to anger his feeder. When the delicious bite was gone, he asked, “Will you be the one to secure me each time?”

“Perhaps.” More bread and cheese were offered.

It tasted just as good. “Please, tell me your name.”

“You have no need to know.”

The man said nothing more to Gandalf as he fed him the rest of the bread and cheese. A water bottle came from inside the stairway entrance. Eagerly Gandalf drank the cool water. As the man turned and walked away, Gandalf said, “Thank you.”

Shaking his head, the man disappeared down the stairs.

Gandalf felt drowsy now that he had eaten. For a while he forced himself to remain alert, expecting Saruman to appear, but as time passed and his captor did not come, Gandalf slipped into a doze. Despite the pain of his current position, the doze deepened into sleep.

****

“Wake up, fool.”

Hands struck Gandalf across the face, snapping him awake. He blinked wearily and inhaled as deeply as possible. A quick glance at the sky showed that the dawn was not far away. Turning his bitter gaze on Saruman, he said, “Took you all night to finally get around to me.”

“I had more important things to attend to. Tell me, Gandalf, where is the Ruling Ring?”

“Out of our reach.”

“Somehow I don't believe you. The Nazgul have been searching your favorite areas for it. You will tell me eventually.”

Gandalf watched the tip of Saruman's staff descend until it hovered over his brow. He had enough time to wonder how far Saruman had fallen before the staff touched his forehead. The world exploded.

The searing agony retreated and Gandalf gasped desperately for air, his lungs burning fiercely.

“Where is it?”

Gandalf shook his head, unable to speak yet.

The staff touched Gandalf again as the sun's rays started to light the sky.

Saruman asked and he refused to answer over and over. The number of times that Saruman racked his body with the pain slipped like water through his fingers into oblivion as the insane pain consumed him once more.

Frantically struggling to breath, Gandalf hung limply from the chains, feeling blood run down his arms from his cut wrists. The burning in his lungs equaled the raspy soreness of his throat and he wondered briefly how long Saruman intended to continue in this vein. Behind Saruman he could see the sun had risen nearly two hand spans above the horizon and he shuddered at the thought of how long this torture had been going on. He could not conceal his look of horror as he saw the staff descend once more.

In the wake of the agony, Gandalf let his head fall back, away from the force of the sun's light. The dryness of his eyes told him he had long since passed the point of being able to produce tears to protect his eyes. He let his eyes close, praying to the Valar that Saruman would give him a chance to recover this time. Dragging precious air into his lungs, Gandalf felt his breathing steady and he slowly raised his head to peer cautiously at Saruman.

His nemesis leaned on the iron staff, watching with a delight that terrified Gandalf. “So, now we start something else. Let's see how you do with physical pain, fool.”

Gandalf could only watch as Saruman brought the tip of the staff to rest on his chest, causing shivers to twitch across his skin. The staff moved downward to his abdomen and then further down along his right leg to lightly touch the top of his foot. The beginnings of an intake of air was thwarted at the staff stabbed his foot. Screams ripped from his throat as he felt the fragile bones shatter one by one. He sobbed for breath when the staff withdrew. To his horror, he saw the staff moving to his left foot.

By the time Saruman tired of the game, his helpless prisoner moaned continuously from the pain radiating from the broken bones in his hands, feet and ribcage. Sneering, Saruman grabbed Gandalf by the hair and twisted his head around to an extreme angle, making Gandalf groan. “This is only the first taste of pain for you, fool. And so that you will be able to appreciate the pain all the more next time, I am setting a healing spell on you.”

Gandalf cried out as Saruman's spell started working. Unlike healing spells that he and others he knew used, this one did not sooth the body, but intensified the pain as it worked. He barely heard the words Saruman said to the man who had fed him earlier.

“Leave him up there until noon. Feed him. He is to be back up at dusk.”

“Yes, Master.”

Letting his eyes close, Gandalf prepared to endure. Exhaustion allowed his body to sleep until the man slapped him awake. He tried to flex his hands and winced as he felt the faint grating of bone, though it was not as bad as it had been. A gasp of agony tore free as the man released the chain holding his left leg. It was not so bad with the right as his body could shift more. The man freed the chain on his right arm, making Gandalf arch with the sharp pain in his shoulders. Slowly, the man eased Gandalf down until the wizard collapsed to his knees. The left arm was quickly freed and it dropped to his side heavily.

Groaning, Gandalf shifted his weight forward onto his knees and elbows before rolling carefully onto his side. Nowhere did his body not hurt and he could feel the pain in his hands and feet as the spell continued its work.

“Do you require aid in eating?”

Gandalf dragged the heavy weight that comprised his head up to look at the man. “Yes,” he managed.

“Very well.”

Once again, the man fed Gandalf and gave him water. The man stood looking down at Gandalf afterward. “Are you going to fight me when I return?”

In a hoarse whisper, Gandalf said, “I should, but it would only gain me more pain.” In a louder voice, he said, “The one I want to hurt will not come near until I am bound, so it would be fruitless to struggle and make your job more difficult.”

“You are wise in your thoughts.”

“What is your name?”

“I have told you before, my name does not matter.” The man left Gandalf on the pinnacle in the sunlight.

With a sigh, Gandalf curled up and returned to sleep.

****

At dusk, the man returned with only one other. Gandalf rose from where he had been huddled against a pillar and walked unsteadily to between the chain pillars. Soon he hung suspended once more, awaiting Saruman's pleasure.

The entire night passed without Saruman making an appearance. At noon of the following day, the man returned to release Gandalf and feed him.

Again at dusk, the man reappeared and Gandalf was suspended. Shortly afterward, Saruman arrived. Another session of the mind-shattering pain followed by the same broken bones. Dawn had not arrived when Saruman renewed the painful healing spell.

And so it went for more nights than Gandalf could remember. He would be hanging, waiting for Saruman to appear or not at dusk. Never did more than a night pass without Saruman torturing him. The so-called healing spell needed only to be activated with a word from the man now for Saruman had decided it was not expedient to do it himself every time. Afterward, Gandalf would hang until noon when he was released and fed until dusk rolled around again. To himself, Gandalf called the man tending him Nohemtay, which meant 'keeper' in some obscure reference to an eastern language he had come across somewhere. For some reason, the word had stuck in his memory and seemed appropriate to call the man it. He grew to looking forward to seeing the pale, close-cropped beard, the brown eyes that hinted at so much more going on behind them, and the care the other used on his battered flesh.

One night after a particularly brutal session, Gandalf slipped and whispered to the man, “Nohemtay, thank you.”

The man raised an eyebrow and said, “For what should you thank me? Do I not prepare you for my Master's pleasure?”

Coughing up blood, Gandalf said, “But you give me small kindnesses. You are not brutal in your care of me. You do not tease me with the food and water. You do not cause me more pain than necessary. For these I thank you.”

“What did you call me?”

“Nohemtay. It means keeper.”

“For you, I shall answer to it. When the others are not here.”

“Of course.”

Nothing else changed in their relationship. Nohemtay did not change the way he treated Gandalf in any way, except occasionally he would stay, a hand on Gandalf's broken body until unconsciousness would take the wizard.

Nights beyond Gandalf's recall slipped through his memory.

****

Gandalf sighed as he saw Saruman step from the stairway shortly after the sunset had faded from the sky. Then his eyes narrowed on seeing his gnarled wooden staff carefully placed against the doorway. This night would not be like the others.

Three men and a woman, all naked, followed Saruman onto the platform. Gandalf shivered, an idea of what was coming in his mind. He watched as the woman approached, a lovely enough creature, though he wished it was under different circumstances. To himself, he knew his own body was still in decent shape, after all he had spent over a thousand years wandering the world and he had learned the joys of lovemaking.

The woman slid her hands up his body from his waist, stopping to tease his nipples. Gandalf tried to tell his body not to respond, but it had a mind of its own after all of the pain it had endured. He could not deny that it felt good to not feel the pain of the last eternity. Her hands and warm mouth soon had his body fully engaged in pleasure and he could not keep in the moans of want after a while.

Head flung back as his body struggled to rock back and forth to increase the pleasure, Gandalf lost track of Saruman's presence. The sound of Saruman's voice in his ear from behind him sent shudders through Gandalf.

“Feels good, doesn't it, Gandalf?”

“Yes,” Gandalf moaned as the woman sucked his hardness into her mouth. Hands clenched spasmodically as she did things with her tongue that send fire through his body. Arching back as she kneaded his balls while dipping her tongue into the slit of his cock, Gandalf could only pray that Saruman allowed him to finish the act as her hand pumped the base of his cock.

Absorbed in the pleasure, Gandalf cried out in shock as something squeezed tightly and painfully around the base of his cock. The woman let him slide out of her mouth as she stood up and he dropped his head to his chest to see that a ring had been fastened around his hard shaft. “What now, Saruman?” he groaned.

“Let's see just how long you can last before you beg for release.”

The sheer maliciousness in Saruman's voice warned Gandalf he was in for a long night of frustrated desire and need. A groan escaped when the woman returned to sucking on his cock while rubbing a hand on one of his nipples and the other kneaded between his legs. He stared down at the woman and moaned as he saw that his cock was more engorged than he had ever seen and it was turning purple. Every touch of her tongue on it sent shudders of pleasure through him and soon he writhed under her ministration.

****

Saruman grinned with cruel delight at seeing how desperately Gandalf struggled to find release. Watching Gandalf succumb to the woman made him harden and he knew he would enjoy this immensely. The helpless groans and mindless thrusting of Gandalf's hips told him it was time for the next step. He oiled his left middle finger and eased it into the tight opening, wanting Gandalf oblivious to the invasion. Once he was buried to the knuckle, he stroked with the finger. No response from his prisoner. Turning his finger slightly, he tried again. A shocked gasp indicated he had the right spot.

In time to the woman's bobbing head, Saruman stroked lightly, driving Gandalf into a frenzy. He brought the tip of Gandalf's staff down until it rested on the knuckle of the buried finger and started working the magic, sending tendrils of it throughout Gandalf's body. Slowly he spread the magic, enjoying the fact that by using Gandalf's staff for the magic, he could make the magic even more binding. The spell would be unbreakable after Gandalf's eventual climax, much to Gandalf's dismay and his delight. He handed the staff to the man standing near and slid his finger free of the writhing form, wiping it clean on the towel handed him by the man.

“You're mine now, Gandalf,” he whispered as he took the flask of oil from his servant, pouring enough in his left hand to coat his own hardness suitably. Using his oiled hand to harden himself further, Saruman reached into his pouch to remove a looser ring and fasten it around the base of his cock.

****

The insane increase of pleasure that had surged through him mystified Gandalf, but when it ceased, he found that his body was even more hard and desperate for release. The woman rose and stepped back toward the two naked men, dropping to her knees before one of them and taking his cock into her mouth. The sight mesmerized Gandalf and he moaned as he felt his body respond.

He was unprepared for hands gripping his hips and the agony that tore through him as something rammed its way inside. A whimper escape as he realized what was happening as the hands held him in place as the object withdrew and slammed its way back in.

“I'm going to make your body mine, Gandalf, just like I'll own your mind.”

Relentlessly, Saruman pumped in and out. To Gandalf's surprise, the pain diminished as pleasure started surging through his body in rhythm to the thrusts. Soon he twisted and cried out in need. Coherent thought left as the insane pleasure coursed through him as Saruman used his body. So caught up in it, he did not register the fact that his body was jerked taut and then allowed some slack.

He cried out in need when Saruman stopped moving. “No, no,” he moaned.

“Move yourself, fool. You'll get no satisfaction until I say, so you better please me with your performance.”

With a sob, Gandalf obeyed, driven by the incredible need of his body. The control he had once had over his body no longer existed. He rocked his hips back and forth, impaling himself on Saruman's cock, driving the need even higher. Time lost all meaning, only the need existed.

The fingers on his hips tightened viciously, digging nails into his flesh, jerking him back so that Saruman drove deeper into his body with a victorious shout. He felt Saruman's seed filling him and sobbed once at the thought that he had aided in his own rape, but it receded as Saruman reached around to grasp his twitching cock and slowly pumped it.

“Please,” he begged.

“Oh, but I'm not satisfied with your condition yet.”

The hand left his aching flesh. A moment later, Saruman stepped back in front of him, holding his staff close enough he could almost rub his cock on it. There was no sign of the physical exertion Saruman had just finished except for the slight disorder to the long white hair nor an indication of the arousal that the other had just satisfied.

“I think I shall see how you fare after you've serviced each of these men a time or two. If I like what I see, I might allow you release.” Saruman gestured and Nohemtay ducked down under Gandalf's upstretched arm to stand before his master. “You know what I want done. The woman may also enjoy herself with him if she so desires. It'll do him good to know it matters not how the body gets its pleasure.” He glanced over at where the three men were still pleasuring themselves with the woman.

“Yes, Master.”

“Start with him yourself. I want to see the look on his face as you take him.” Saruman leaned on the staff.

“Yes, Master.” Nohemtay returned to behind Gandalf.

A moan escaped Gandalf as a moment later he felt Nohemtay's cock sliding into him. Another surge of pleasure followed and he found himself thrusting back, wanting more. His eyes closed as he lost control of his body again.

“I foresee that you will make such a delightful slut, Gandalf. My men will be quite satisfied with you once I've broken you to my will. You should see yourself, desperately humping his cock like any street whore. Any second, you'll be begging him for more.”

As if the words were a trigger, Gandalf heard himself begging. “Please, more. Take me.”

Nohemtay sped up a bit and Gandalf panted, grinding himself against the man.

“Not nearly good enough. I want to hear you debase yourself completely. Let's hear how vulgar you can be.”

The words burst forth. “Fuck me. Fuck me!” He flung himself back onto Nohemtay's cock.

Saruman chuckled. “Oh, how delightful. Make him beg like that every time.”

“Yes, Master.”

****

For a moment longer, Saruman watched, feeling himself growing hard again. He reluctantly turned away, aware he had work to do before he could enjoy himself further this night. At the stairway, he grabbed his own staff from the wall and carried both away with him.

****

Nohemtay finally came, thrusting deeply into Gandalf. As he withdrew, one of the other men came around to take his turn. When the man currently using the woman's mouth glanced at Gandalf speculatively, he shook his head. “No. The Master did not say we could use him any other way. You may take him twice.” He could hear Gandalf begging to be fucked.

Shortly after the second man of the three men started taking Gandalf, the woman decided it was time she enjoyed him. She positioned herself in front of Gandalf, bent over and facing away from him, and the man holding Gandalf back against him thrust forward hard, driving Gandalf deep into her. As Gandalf's swollen and bound cock slammed home in the woman, a scream ripped its way from the wizard's throat as he was overpowered from both sides.

Nohemtay had to admire her stamina as she rode Gandalf's cock through two men, orgasms wracking her every few minutes. Her legs gave out before her desire and she collapsed to the stone floor, cursing softly as her legs refused to hold her up any more.

Once all three men had taken Gandalf, Nohemtay nodded to indicate that they could start over again. He intended to be the one taking the prisoner when their master returned.

****

His business in the lower caverns finished for the night, Saruman retired to his quarters with one of the women. He could not believe how much he reacted to the mere thought of how Gandalf was begging to be fucked over his head and, every time he thought of it, he grew hard. Already he had satisfied his desire three times in the caverns. Now he planned on a few more before returning to the pinnacle and the lovely spectacle waiting.

****

All thought had long since ceased for Gandalf. All he knew was he frantically wanted release and he could not get it if his captor was not satisfied with his performance. He had no idea how many men had taken him or how long the sexual ordeal had been going on.

His eyes burned bright with frustrated need. Hoarse from begging, still he mouthed the words. Exhaustion dragged at him. When Saruman appeared before him with his wooden staff, Gandalf arched toward him, pleading with his entire body.

“You still have a patron to satisfy, whore.” Saruman stepped to the side.

He knew not who was behind him and did not care. Flinging himself backwards, driving the man deep within, Gandalf drove his exhausted body to bring whoever it was to release. A sharp cry came from behind and he felt the other thrusting deep within.

“Are you my slut, Gandalf?”

“Yes!”

“Say it. Let me hear you proclaim yourself.”

“I am your slut! Please!”

“Am I your Master?”

“Yes. I am the Master's slut!”

“The slut may come.” Saruman released the ring with a gesture and caught it as it flew to his hand.

A scream ripped its way from Gandalf as his body finally received its release. His seed sprayed in the air for long minutes as he nearly convulsed from the violence of the act. When the fury was spent, he sagged in the chains, sobbing for breath.

“Same as before. I want his hair braided, though. The better to see his face as he's being taken and it gives me a better handhold.”

“Yes, Master,” came Nohemtay's voice from behind him.

Gandalf closed his eyes, turning his head slightly away from Saruman as he felt the other's healing spell starting. He let himself drift into oblivion, knowing he would not be released until noon, and took comfort from the hand resting lightly on his side.

****

A gasp escaped when his legs were freed as his abused ass compressed. He sank to his knees as his left arm was released and then to his hands and knees when able to. The water bottle appeared before his mouth and he forced himself to sip, not gulp, the cool liquid. Feeling the water soothing his tortured throat, he opened his eyes to see Nohemtay kneeling beside him, the food pouch to the side. The sticky drying fluid under his arms drove home the reality of what had happened.

“Did you enjoy yourself, Nohemtay?”

“Yes. It is not wrong for me to enjoy a pleasure that my Master allows.”

“Even when that pleasure is being forced to it?”

Nohemtay raised an eyebrow. “Never once was a hand raised harshly or a threat spoken or even implied.”

Gandalf dropped his head. “You are right.”

“You gave yourself freely.”

“Yes.”

“And tonight you shall do the same again.”

A shudder racked Gandalf. “He did not even ask me.”

“He will do so next time. The purpose of this time was to enforce his control over you.”

A harsh laugh escaped. “That he did.” Gandalf remembered seeing Saruman step from behind him carrying his wooden staff. “What did he do with my staff? What magic did he perform?”

“I do not know to both. I would not know if magic was involved or not, though I suspect it was.” Nohemtay offered some bread and cheese.

As he ate, Gandalf examined himself mentally and tried to do so magically. He could not sense anything amiss and wondered what Saruman had done to him.

“Nohemtay, forgive me for snapping at you.”

“There is nothing to forgive. Now, do you wish me to come a bit early and braid your hair or shall you do it yourself?”

“I shall do it. I create enough work for you as it is.”

“It is not something I dread.”

“You will enjoy taking me again, won't you?”

“Yes.”

Closing his eyes again, Gandalf asked, “How long did it take?”

“Nearly three quarters of the night.”

A soft sob escaped. “He will break me eventually.”

“You must hold on. Our Master has many things demanding his attention.”

“Isn't that betraying your master?”

“He is now your master as well. He will remind you of this tonight.”

Again, Gandalf shuddered.

****

The only difference Gandalf could see that night from the previous was that Saruman brought his iron staff and asked where the Ruling Ring was. When Gandalf refused to say, Saruman grabbed him by the braid and twisted his head around. “I am your Master, fool. I shall prove it with your body.”

Gandalf's cock hardened at the thought and he licked his lips. The woman sauntered over and he felt himself harden further. Soon she had him ready for the ring and Saruman took him viciously, gloating as Gandalf begged to be fucked without being told.

By the time Saruman allowed him release, Gandalf knew that he could not handle too many nights like this. His ability to resist was weakening fast.

****

The fourth night brought a change. After the asking of the whereabouts of the Ruling Ring, he had been aroused to fever pitch and the ring had been tightened around his cock when Saruman wrenched his head around by the braid.

“Are you my slut?”

“Yes, Master.”

“You're going to prove it, slut.” Saruman released his hair.

Gandalf collapsed to the stone floor when the chains were released from the spikes. He reared up on his knees as Saruman once more grabbed his braid and dragged him upward. “You shall worship your Master, slut.”

With his face being held at Saruman's groin, Gandalf knew what was expected. He had no resistance left as his body's need increased. Sliding his hands under Saruman's robes and up the muscular legs, he prayed he could do this as he brought his goal into view. Saruman was already hard and Gandalf slowly pressed his lips to the base of the rampant cock, reminding himself that he could not get relief until he had satisfied Saruman's lust.

“Take it in your mouth. All of it. I have no patience with your slowness.” Saruman pulled his robes back out of the way.

Saruman proceeded to ruthlessly fuck Gandalf's mouth, holding his helpless prisoner's head in place, ignoring the fact that Gandalf could barely breathe. He came, withdrawing at the last second so that he sprayed Gandalf's face. “Excellent. I shall enjoy doing that every night. A Master's privilege. On your back, slut.”

Dragging air into his lungs, Gandalf obeyed, wondering what new torture was coming. He saw Saruman start renewing his erection and Nohemtay kneel by his head.

“I want him to watch this.” Saruman slid his own cock ring into place.

Nohemtay lifted Gandalf's head and slid his knees under.

Grabbing one of Gandalf's ankles, Saruman jerked it up toward Nohemtay. “Hold his ankles.”

The very thought of watching Saruman ramming home in his ass made Gandalf moan and harden further. He could see his cock twitching at the thought. Saruman moved into position.

The naked lust and cruel delight on Saruman's face he knew was matched by the sheer need and self-loathing Gandalf felt for his own reactions and capitulation. As Saruman thrust in, Gandalf gasped at the vicious invasion and the surge of pleasure rocketing through his body which caused his cock to twitch violently and he could see it actually swell further. His heavy balls ached as they were crushed with every thrust, but he could only hump his body eagerly to meet Saruman.

It took Saruman time to find release. With a soft cry of triumph, Saruman buried himself even deeper in Gandalf, falling forward onto his hands. Face only inches away from Gandalf's, he said, “Oh, I enjoy the look on your face, fool. I can see how desperately you want it and how you hate yourself for it. How absolutely delightful.”

Saruman got to his feet, rearranging his clothing until he looked as if nothing had happened. He surveyed the platform, smiling on seeing the woman servicing two of the three men waiting. “His mouth touches no cock but mine. Otherwise, use him well.” Looking at Nohemtay, he said, “I will be back after my work is done.”

“Yes, Master.”

The night followed much the same pattern as Gandalf had become accustomed. The only change came from the woman when she decided that it was her turn to enjoy him. She insisted that he face her on his hands and knees while she settled down on her back, hooking her legs over his shoulders. “You will lick me clean before I ride you. I better come at least three times before you finish cleaning me.”

He licked her clean, eating the seed of three other men, and pleasured her with his mouth, bringing her four times over the edge. On her command, he positioned his cock at her opening and waited for permission to enter. A shiver of pleasure surged through him as someone entered him from behind and he glanced over his shoulder to see that it was Nohemtay.

“Now. Stick it in.”

Gandalf cried out as he thrust his hard, swollen cock into her hot body, nearly overwhelmed. Pulling out, he impaled himself on Nohemtay. Faster and faster he moved, the intense pleasure from both driving him mad with need. Beneath him, the woman achieved orgasm more times than before, finally sinking into unconsciousness. He was pulled back onto Nohemtay who buried his face into his shoulder, softly crying out as he came.

By the time Saruman returned, the woman had recovered and used him a second time to send her into oblivion and the men had taken him multiple times. Nohemtay again was the one taking him, this time while he lay on his back holding his own ankles, as Saruman strolled onto the platform.

Saruman spared the thoroughly sated woman a glance and smiled. “How many women can claim to be completely satisfied by you, fool? Only this one, I think. Have you satisfied all of them, slut?”

“More times than I can remember, Master,” moaned Gandalf as Nohemtay drove deeply.

“Has he satisfied you all?”

“Yes, Master.”

Nohemtay did not answer as he was burying himself in Gandalf, fingers digging into Gandalf's thighs as he came hard. He dropped down over Gandalf, sated, and gave Gandalf a quick smile. Pulling free, Nohemtay rose and said, “Most definitely, Master.”

“On your knees, slut.”

Seeing Saruman parting his robes, Gandalf obeyed, knowing what was coming. Saruman grabbed him by the braid just before the hard cock plunged into his mouth and this time Gandalf felt the slapping of Saruman's balls on his chin. He swallowed desperately when he knew Saruman reached orgasm, whimpering as some of the liquid spilled from his mouth. He did not want to risk not being granted release.

A last few thrusts into Gandalf's mouth and Saruman pulled free, not releasing his hold on Gandalf's braid. “Hands behind your head, slut. This is the only time I shall warn you. Touching yourself will deny you any relief for the night. Is that understood, slut?”

“Yes, Master.” Locking his fingers behind his head, Gandalf waited, hoping.

“Lick every drop from your lips. Tell me how you enjoy it.”

Gandalf quickly licked his lips. “Master, I love it.”

Stepping to the side, Saruman said, “You may come, slut.”

The cock ring slipped free and flew to Saruman's hand. Howling, Gandalf twisted in place, spraying his seed forth violently. Only Saruman's hold on his braid kept Gandalf from dropping forward in exhaustion. He gazed up at his captor, wondering what new torture was forthcoming.

“Put him back up. Same as before.”

“Yes, Master.”

****

Gandalf stood near the edge of the platform, watching the sunset. The cool breeze caressed his naked, filthy body and he shivered, wondering how long he had been here. A faint flutter of wings caught his attention and he snapped his hand out, catching the small bat. He whispered to it, imprinting a task on its small brain, and released it after a moment, praying that it would not be eaten by an owl. The odds of it succeeding were not in his favor.

“How did you do that?”

“Hm?” Gandalf turned to Nohemtay, his thoughts still fixed on the bat.

“How did you catch the bat? You are more than human, aren't you? Are you a half-elf?”

“Gracious, no, I'm not a half-elf.”

“But you are like Saruman. You look human, but...” Nohemtay shrugged. “There's something about you. After all, both of you are magic wielders.”

“So long as he has my staff, I am not. I've invested a lot of my personal power into that staff and can do only little magics without it. Nothing that will help me in this situation. Saruman has worked it so that I can not pass the doorway like you and the others do. I am trapped.” His voice dropped. “I am helpless and he knows it.”

“He must have worked some magic on you.”

“I think it was a sexual binding, not a full obedience binding. My body, once aroused, will perform until unconsciousness or he allows me to come.” Shaking slightly, Gandalf walked to the middle of the platform. “I can disobey in small ways, so long as it is not sexual, that's all. That is bad enough.”

“I would think so.”

Soon Nohemtay had him strung back up and Gandalf sighed as the last rays of the sun vanished.

That night and the next two nights passed the same.

****

The sun had not been long below the horizon when Saruman arrived with an orc, a brawny sturdy specimen of his kind.

“Master, do you wish the slut to service you?” asked Nohemtay.

“Yes.”

The orc moved forward to Gandalf's right while Nohemtay went to his left. Soon Gandalf knelt on the stone platform and allowed Saruman to fuck his mouth. He swallowed and closed his eyes when Saruman caressed his hair, wishing he dared to fight. When Saruman pulled free, he licked his lips and put his hands behind his head as Saruman usually demanded. “Master, you are tasty.”

“Excellent, slut. Garst is going to take over some of your training, slut. You will obey him or I shall punish you as only I can. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.”

Garst stood before Gandalf. “Service me, slut.”

Bringing his hands forward, Gandalf shuddered at the thought of actually touching the orc, but he knew better than to resist, especially with Saruman standing there watching. It galled him to realize that his body did not care who took it, so long as it was taken and given release. The act of having his mouth fucked by Saruman had already hardened his cock and he could feel it twitching in response to the idea of being taken by the orc.

He pulled the cloth aside to reveal the orc's cock and froze at the sight. This was going to hurt, he knew. Only partially erect, the orc's cock had a greater girth of any of the men who had taken him. It did not appear to be any longer, but the extra width would do damage.

Dreading the taste of filth and bringing his mouth closer, Gandalf realized that the orc was clean in the same way a man would be after a day's work. This orc bathed regularly.

“Too slow,” came the words just before the neatly trimmed clawed hands seized his head and rammed the cock into his mouth. “I said service me, slut.”

Knowing that he had to ignore the fact it was an orc in his mouth, Gandalf forced himself to pleasure the orc. A moment later, its balls slapped his chin hard as Garst decided it had waited enough and took over. The bitter seed sprayed into his mouth a while later and he frantically swallowed.

Garst left the head of his cock in Gandalf's mouth. “Keep sucking, slut. I haven't said you may stop.”

From the corner of his eye, Gandalf saw the satisfied smirk on Saruman's face and wanted to weep, but his body refused such displays. Saruman turned and left, leaving Nohemtay near the doorway. Knowing Nohemtay remained gave Gandalf a sense of relief, knowing that at the end of the ordeal, Nohemtay would be there.

Garst waited until his cock was good and hard again. “On your feet and turn around. Bend over.”

Obeying, Gandalf waited. He jerked with surprise when the orc grabbed his aching cock and pumped hard. Within four pumps, he came, his seed spurting out for all to see. The orc caught some of it in the other hand.

“You wonder why Garst do that? So you will know just how much a slut you are.”

Clawed fingers held Gandalf's right hip and he felt the head at his opening. Even knowing what was coming, Gandalf screamed as Garst invaded his body in one fell stroke, feeling as though he were being ripped open. As it did every night, the pain quickly receded under the pleasure being generated and Gandalf dropped his head and closed his eyes, allowing his body to move as it wished. His climax a moment later startled him. After so many nights of being denied, it felt odd to not beg constantly for the privilege. He glanced at Nohemtay and saw a flash of pity, quickly hidden, in the man's eyes.

Garst continued using him with deep, regular thrusts.

The next climax worried Gandalf as it came so quickly on the heels of the previous one. Still his body remained hard as Garst pumped away. Another climax surged through him and Gandalf gasped, feeling as though a mule had kicked him in the gut. It took longer, but he came again, whimpering as he realized he would not stop so long as Garst fucked him.

“Figured it out, slut?” Garst slapped Gandalf on the back before grabbing the braid and pulling Gandalf's head up. “I fuck, you come. So simple, so delicious. Should be careful what you wish for. The Master might grant it.”

“I didn't wish for anything.”

“Didn't you? All those nights? What did you want, slut?”

Gandalf shuddered, all too aware of what he had wanted.

“Now, you shall get it until I decide to stop. And I think that shall be a long time from now.”

“How can you do this?”

“The Master asked me what I would need for the job. I said two things. To fuck without getting sore and to be able to choose when I came. He performed the little magics today. I tried them out earlier. It felt so good.” He released his hold on the braid.

Time became meaningless once more to Gandalf under this new torture. The time between his climaxes lengthened, but he would come. What got him the most began after the eighth time he thought. His cock and balls started to hurt, increasingly with each additional climax. The pain transmuted into a savage burning that drove him mad, making him feel as though his groin was on fire. By that point, his body worked desperately hard to release a few drops of his seed with each climax.

His throat grew sore as he begged for Garst to stop the ordeal. It wasn't lost on him that he was doing all the same things as the previous nights, just the opposite conditions.

At one point, Garst ceased moving. “So tell me, slut, where is the thing the Master seeks? What direction does it lie?”

Gandalf glanced to the northeast, away from the Shire.

“I think you lie, slut.” With an especially hard thrust, Garst resumed.

A sob tore its way loose as Gandalf's head dropped to rest on the stone platform. He had long since lost the ability to remain on his feet. Even staying on his hands and knees required an increasingly large effort, but Garst had threatened to continue until dawn if he did not at least remain on his hands and knees.

The searing, burning agony struck and he convulsed as his body struggled to push the meager drops free. Chest heaving from the exertion, Gandalf watched the two drops cling to him, apparently not ready to add to the sticky pool beneath him.

The next climax made Gandalf's vision turn red, then black. He let himself be carried away.

****

With a disgusted cry, Garst released the suddenly limp body. He grabbed the braid as he walked forward and held the head up high enough for his seed to coat the slack features. Hand pumping fast, the orc climaxed and grinned as his seed splattered liberally on Gandalf's face. He reached down and seized the filthy white beard. It would do as a towel.

He glanced at the sky. “I will give him time for the healing spell to operate. Then I will resume.”

****

Sputtering awake as water cascaded down his face, Gandalf found himself awake. The words he heard told him that he was still in Garst's not so tender hands.

“On your feet, slut. I'm not finished with you.”

Gandalf groaned as he obeyed. The sight of his filthy body sickened him and he wished it would rain. Some of the filth would wash away then.

The pain in his groin started after the fifth climax when he dropped to his hands and knees. He lost track of the times he came until Garst asked him again where the Ruling Ring was. To the northeast he glanced, determined to never look to the Shire, even if it killed him. His agonizing climax drove him into the darkness again.

****

Blinking the water from his eyes, Gandalf dragged himself back onto his feet as Garst demanded.
From the way his legs trembled, he knew it was a matter of minutes before he was back on all fours once more.

The second climax started the pain and he managed to once more look to the northeast before losing consciousness.

****

This time Gandalf could not even get to his feet. “I can't.”

The brutal thrust told him how displeased Garst was and he whimpered as the pain started immediately on the first climax. He only made it a handful of times before passing out again.

****

Even his hands and knees were beyond Gandalf when he was dragged back to consciousness. Within half an hour he lay unheeding once more.

****

Saruman walked onto the stone platform in time to see the orc readying itself to release onto Gandalf's face. “Not yet. Do keep on stroking though.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Did you find out anything?”

“Every time I asked, he looked toward the northeast, Master. I kept telling him he was lying and punishing him, but he continued to look that direction. To lie after all of that would require more than a man has.”

“How many times have you come?”

“Four. This will be five.”

“Very well. You may come.”

“Thank you, Master.” Garst pumped his cock hard and fast. With a cry, he sprayed Gandalf.

“Nicely done. Now do it again.”

“Master?”

“Now.” A hint of anger sounded in Saruman's voice.

The orc bent its head submissively as it quickly said, “Yes, Master.” It climaxed seconds later.

“Excellent. Again.”

The orc's seed dripped from Gandalf's face. “Much better. Now, you will coat his entire body with your seed. When he wakes, I want him to know his only worth lies in being a receptacle for an orc. Get busy.”

Under Saruman's watchful eyes, Garst obeyed, spilling his seed every time ordered. It did not take long before he started moaning with pain each time. He screamed with every climax a while later, but still Saruman ordered him to climax. The orc had dropped to its knees by the time Saruman nodded his satisfaction.

“Instant obedience, Garst. Do not forget it. That shall do as a punishment.” Saruman turned and walked away.

After several minutes, Garst staggered to the stairway and vanished from the platform.

****

Still holding his vigil, Nohemtay waited a while to insure that no one would be returning. He took a bucket of water from the shadows, grimacing at the fact it was quite cold now as he dipped his fingers in. Letting the drops fall on Gandalf's face, he wondered how much longer the other would manage to hold out. Already he had held on longer than anyone in his memory or his father's.

It took several applications of water droplets to drag a groan out of Gandalf. “I can't,” he whispered hoarsely.

“It's all right. We're alone right now.”

Gandalf pushed himself onto his back and his eyes widened as he realized he was covered in semen. “What happened?”

“He did not obey our Master quickly enough and our Master made him coat you.”

“Hope it hurt.” Gandalf's eyes closed.

“It did. He could barely walk out of here.” Nohemtay grinned. “Now, I have some water and a cloth. Would you care to get the worst of this off you?”

“Absolutely, but I'm afraid that I'm too exhausted to do it myself.”

“Crawl out of that filthy puddle and I'll do some of it. You'll have to finish. I have other things I need to do tonight.”

Crawling out of the pool mixture of his own semen and that of Garst's, Gandalf asked, his throat reminding him with every word of its soreness, “Why are you doing this? Aren't you defying Saruman?”

“The Master never said I could not clean you up. He merely said that he wanted you to realize that your only worth was an orc's receptacle.” Nohemtay crouched next to Gandalf, holding the cloth.

“You are wicked, bloody wicked.” A weak chuckle and Gandalf managed to reach over to take the cloth and dunk it in the bucket. “I will do this. I do not want our Master to become angry with you.”

“Let me start the healing.”

“Don't. It's as bad as the torture.” Gandalf wiped his face clean, grimacing at the feel the orc's semen had.

“Truly?”

Gandalf frowned in thought. “No. It's not been as bad as it was initially. Maybe I'm just getting used to the pain it causes. Anyway, go, Nohemtay. I don't want you to get into trouble. I couldn't get through this without you afterward.”

“We all do what we can. Just because I am a slave does not mean I have to be cruel.” Nohemtay touched Gandalf's forehead. “When you're as clean as you can get, rest. I will return at noon with food.”

“Thank you.”

Gandalf watched Nohemtay walk away and sighed. Nohemtay allowed him to survive this ordeal. He did not want to think about what would happen if Nohemtay disappeared. The man was the closest thing to a friend he had in the entire place.

****

Nohemtay returned at noon, looking exhausted. He gave Gandalf the food and a fresh bucket of water to clean up in. He yawned and stretched. “I'll be back at dusk.”

“Will you?”

Nohemtay's quick smile answered him.

****

Saruman did not come to torment Gandalf that night. In answer to Gandalf's silent question as he hung between the pillars, Nohemtay merely stated, “There are many things demanding our Master's attention right now.”

“May it remain so.”

****

Five nights went by without a visit from Saruman. The night Saruman returned, he strode right up to Gandalf, staff in hand, and snarled in his face, “I want to know where it is, fool. Or I shall make you beg for what you've already suffered through.”

“I do not know where it is.”

The staff hit Gandalf in the head and activated.

Drawing air into his lungs, Gandalf kept a wary eye on Saruman as the other wizard paced.

“Where is it?”

Even before Gandalf could reply, the staff connected again.

Seven more times, the question was asked and then the staff used. Gulping air, Gandalf could only be grateful that Saruman had not given him time to actually answer. He might have.

A man appeared in the doorway. “Master!”

“What?” Saruman whirled around, anger evident in voice and body.

“The Eye, Master.” Fear made the man cringe.

With a growl of rage, Saruman swung the staff into Gandalf.

Dragging his eyes open once the pain had receded, Gandalf saw that his tormentor had left. “The Master's Master calls,” he whispered.

“The Eye is not pleased. When the Eye is not pleased, the Master is not pleased and we suffer.” Nohemtay sighed. “I do not think the Master will return tonight, but just in case-”

“You'll leave me up here. I understand.”

“I have some errands I must run tonight.” Nohemtay looked into Gandalf's face. “If the Master returns, do not anger him. You do not want him ferreting out the chink in the spell.”

“No and I will be the obedient slut that he wants. No fear of that. I couldn't be anything else right now. He's made it impossible.”

“I will return when I can.”

“Go. I'm not going anywhere.”

Through the long lonely night, Gandalf hung from the pillars. He could just see the rays of the sun over the eastern sky when someone stepped from the doorway.

“The Master sent me to look you over, slut.” Garst strolled over and grinned up into Gandalf's face as his hand settled between the parted legs. “Shall we have another round or two?”

In despair, Gandalf moaned at the thought and felt his body respond. Claws raked lightly behind his balls and he moaned louder, arching into the orc's hand, feeling his cock harden.

“Shall I take that as a yes?”

“Yes!” Even knowing that Garst was going to fuck him until he passed out again, Gandalf could not want anything else. The magic made him want whatever sexual desires the other wanted.

The sun was well up when Gandalf lost consciousness. He slowly came around, feeling a hand softly slapping his face and stone under his body.

“Come on, come on. What happened?”

Nohemtay's face swam into view. “Garst,” Gandalf croaked.

Gandalf could tell from the sound of the words that Nohemtay was swearing and he wished he could understand the language. He had a feeling that some of the words were quite interesting. “Is it noon?”

“A bit after. It took longer to run my errands than anticipated.” Nohemtay rolled Gandalf onto his back and put the water bottle to his lips. “Drink.”

The knowledge that Garst could come up and do what he pleased with him filled Gandalf with despair. “I think I would prefer to die than let that slimy little orc gets his hands on me again,” he muttered.

“You've caught other bats and sent them out with your message.”

The matter-a-fact way Nohemtay said it caused Gandalf to answer without thinking. “Yes.”

“Are they a means to escape?”

“I hope. Are you going to tell Saruman?” He sat up and took a bite of bread.

“No. Whatever it is he wants, the Eye wants even more. That is bad. So your escaping would be good. No matter the cost. Do you have any idea if your escape will arrive?”

“No. Not until it is already here.”

“Pity.”

“Yes.”

“The moon will be up tonight. It would be a good night to flee.”

“If I were to, would you come?” Gandalf continued to eat, his eyes on Nohemtay.

There was sorrow in Nohemtay's eyes as he answered, “No. And do not ask why. If you should break free of this prison, all I would ask is that you remember me with some faint fondness.” He turned his head away, staring toward the East.

“It would be with more than faint fondness,” Gandalf risked. Nohemtay's smile made his heart skip. “Have I fallen for him? Or is it just that he is the gentlest of my captors?” Gandalf wondered to himself even as he reached up to stroke the close-cropped beard.

Nohemtay captured Gandalf's hand. “Be careful that you do not start something you do not intend. I would not stop once started.”

“Would you take me cruel and viciously or as one who cares for another?” It didn't matter the answer, Gandalf knew. His body was already preparing.

“Does it matter?”

“To my body, no. To me, yes.”

“Do you really want an answer?”

The challenge had returned to the brown eyes and he saw the hint of hardness behind them. Licking his suddenly dry lips, Gandalf answered, “Yes.”

“Open yourself to me. Show me.”

Gandalf obeyed, fully aware that his cock showed his body's willingness to be invaded. “I give myself to you.”

“Then let's see how it goes.”

Nohemtay proved to be a firm, considerate lover who only used the sexual magic on him once. He insisted that Gandalf could not come until given permission. Three times, Nohemtay made love to Gandalf before calling it quits.

Exhausted, Gandalf finished off the food and water at Nohemtay's insistence. He curled up in the shelter of a pillar and closed his eyes.

A hand stroked his hair and he heard Nohemtay say, “Sleep. I will see you later.”

****

The moon was already rising when Nohemtay strode onto the platform, clearly agitated. “Pray your rescue comes tonight.”

“Why?”

“The Eye was most displeased with our Master. So our Master has said that at dawn you will be taken to the depths of the caverns. There you will service orcs, male and female, until you die. Your seed will help bring new blood to his orcs.”

“Never!” Gandalf flung himself toward the edge. An invisible wall refused to let him pass. He sank to his knees with a sob as he heard Nohemtay continue speaking.

“Our Master extended the magic of the doorway around the pinnacle. He said that he would not let you kill yourself. He wants you to suffer.”

Huddling on the edge, Gandalf closed his eyes in despair. “Kill me, Nohemtay. Kill me if I do not get off this tower before dawn. To allow him to use me that way would violate every oath I've ever taken.”

“Forgive me, but I cannot.” Nohemtay laid his hand on Gandalf's shoulder.

Gandalf whipped his head around and snapped, “Then get me a dagger and I'll do it myself! The results of that breeding would be far worse than anything he's managed so far.”

For a long moment, Nohemtay stared at Gandalf. “Why?”

“I am not allowed to tell.”

“Then I cannot do as you ask.”

Slumping, Gandalf shook his head. “By the Valar, you are a hard and cruel man sometimes.”

“To survive here, I must be.” Nohemtay crouched. “That is not the first time you have sworn by the Valar. They mean something to you.”

“I am from the Undying Lands. I have seen them. I and others were sent to do a task. It remains unfinished and whether I die here or in the pits below, I will have failed. Only by escaping will there be a faint chance of succeeding.”

“If you fail?”

“All MiddleEarth, nay, all lands will fall under the gaze of the Eye.”

“If you succeed?”

“Men will walk free once more.”

Nohemtay sat down and wrapped his arms around Gandalf, pulling the seemingly frail body back into his. “Rest. If the dawn comes and you are not gone from here, I shall give you the dagger and steady your hand.”

“Thank you.”

“If you get away, to the northeast, five hours hard riding, there is a clearing with a ruined ancient stone circle. Clothing, food, and your staff are waiting for you there.”

“How?”

“My Master trusts me. He cannot send orcs to do his business with other humans, so I am sent. I merely detoured the other day. And the Master has not noticed that your staff is missing. Yet.”

“And when he does?”

“Life has been dull lately.”

“He'll kill you or worse.”

“It'll be the or worse, I'm sure.”

“You're so calm.”

“I've stood at the doorway to Mandos' Hall before. I do not fear death. Now, relax. Pray. Pray for both of us.”

Gandalf did. He prayed, harder than he had done since his capture. To die now, with the information he knew, would doom MiddleEarth and he could only hope the Valar understood. Or worse, to be prevented from dying and dooming MiddleEarth to orcs with Maiar blood in them. There was no telling how much havoc they could wreak.

The moon headed for the western horizon.

“I'll fetch a dagger,” sighed Nohemtay, stroking Gandalf's hair.

As the man rose, Gandalf heard the flutter of tiny wings. “Wait.”

A small bat flew to his hands and a moment later, Gandalf flung it free with a soft laugh. “The Valar have heard my pleas and granted us a reprieve. My rescue is only minutes away.”

Nohemtay smiled, then glanced at the chains hanging from the pillars. “You were supposed to be chained.”

“Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Go now. That way you can honestly tell Saruman you don't know how I got off this tower.”

Nohemtay nodded and gave Gandalf a quick kiss. “When the world ends, remember me.”

“I will. Never fear. Your memory shall live in me.”

Nohemtay left and never saw the great eagle swoop down. Its talons seized the chains that Gandalf held up and tore them apart. With sob of sheer joy, Gandalf mounted his old friend Gwaihir the Windlord and left his prison behind.