The raven had barely taken flight.

It wheeled into the ashen sky, its wings beating against the sulfur winds as it vanished beyond the mountains. In its claws: a letter sealed in obsidian wax, bearing the rune of Sauron—the Dark Lord’s invitation, not a plea, but not quite a command either.

To the Fae Queen of the Twilight Court, I extend this offer of audience. You and your kin remain the only power unspoken for in the world to come. I offer you a place beside my throne. Let us speak, you and I. —Sauron

He did not expect an answer soon.

Even the elves took days to reply to their doom.

He sat back on his blackstone throne, fingers resting thoughtfully on the armrest, firelight dancing along his silver-ringed hand. The hall around him pulsed with dark warmth—glowing braziers and slow, sullen embers curled through ancient runes carved into the volcanic walls. The Eye had closed for the day. The forge-songs of Barad-dûr lay still.

And then—

a breath.

Not a gust. Not a door. Just a change.

The scent of frost and honeysuckle curled through the smoke. The torches flickered—not out of fear, but as if startled. The shadows peeled back.

And she stood there.

You stood there.

No fanfare. No sound. No warning. One moment the hall was empty—and the next, Sauron looked up and met the eyes of the Fae Queen.

You were not announced.

And yet you were unmistakably present.

The magic of your kind rolled off you in waves—neither of Light nor Shadow, but something older, wilder, untouched by the gods of this world. The hem of your gown whispered against the obsidian floor like a threat made in silk. Jewels shimmered faintly at your throat, each one pulsing with silent, unknowable life.

You were not expected.

But you had been invited.

Sauron didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His flame-bright gaze swept over you with something between awe and calculation.

Then, slowly, he rose to his feet. Not as a king greeting a subject.

But as a force meeting its equal.

"...You came quickly,” he said, voice low and smooth, echoing through the chamber like a falling blade.