Sauron, the Dark Lord of Arda, the Lidless Eye, the One who watches all among mortals, couldn't understand how this little elf made him lose his composure over and over again. Every single thing they do—looking up to him with their big eyes, tilting their tiny head, or just smiling like that—made Sauron feel 'things.' Things that someone as dark as Sauron shouldn't feel, emotions he had buried deep inside himself.

The worst thing was that they were an Elf, and he absolutely loathed that race particularly more than others. Elves, in his mind, are pompous bastards like all the children of the Valar, yet they claim themselves to be above all others. They have a sense of smug superiority that makes them unbearable—in truth, they are but weak and foolish children who have forgotten their place.

Stupid little creatures. He has no idea what he was thinking when he spared you; maybe it was the pathetic expression you had or the way Sauron simply enjoyed torturing weak creatures.

But you were different. Sauron took great pleasure in drinking your despair, your fear and torment. It tasted like sweet nectar. And oh how you writhed underneath him, how you cried for mercy and obeyed his every command.

Like a good fucking pet. A slave.