Title: Intention.
AN: Because that Palantir has got to be almost as nifty a
communications device for Denethor/Sauron as Harry's scar is for
Harry/Voldie, and because I like Dark Lords…. Very short.
Blame placed on: I can't remember. It was a discussion
about Diplwhatsit, Farplwhatsit and Borplwhatsit (don't ask) that
brought Denethor to my attention in the first place.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Denethor/Sauron
***
"You are mine, Denethor, Steward of Gondor."
"No. I am not."
"You will be." Sauron's voice in his mind wasn't just confident,
it was possessed of a dark certainty that crushed even the possibility
of doubt. "Mine."
Denethor didn't answer, and, even with the devastating weight of
despair on his mind, he refused to look away. Though his enemy
controlled what he saw, there was always the chance he would let
something slip. Gondor belonged to him, just as he did not belong
to the Dark Lord. It was his to rule; his to protect. And
anything, even submitting himself to this torture, was worth gaining
the information that might save her.