This chapter deserves another content warning and that warning is just "Sauron." Graphic depictions of violence, both physical and mental, though I don't think they're quite as bad as the stuff from two chapters ago.

Anyway, I'm a big fan of Silmarillion fanon Mairon/Sauron and I'm sure it shows. Have fun!

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Images fluttered about Robb's head faster than he could grasp them. Dreams, memories and things he had witnessed from Grey Wind's perspective intermingled until he could no longer tell which was which.

Sauron rifled through them all as one would through a particularly dull book. His presence in Robb's mind was a sharp, burning thing. It was intangible, of course, yet Robb felt his skull was close to bursting from sheer pressure.

Sauron had burrowed himself deep into Robb's brain. It was as though he intended to carve out a space for his own and settle down there. As though he intended to stay.

Finally, the flood of images stopped. Just a second more of it would have split his head in twain, Robb was sure.

Instead, he found himself back on his knees in a place he had never expected to see again. Around him, frozen in time, stood the Valar. The veiled woman, whose name Robb had forgotten, was by his side once more. Her hand was stretched out towards him, just shy of touching his cheek. Tears brimmed in her deep blue eyes.

Behind her was the one with wings-Manwë, Robb remembered-and the star-freckled woman with skin like the night sky. He had not noticed it back then, but they were looking at him with pity in their gaze. Robb wondered if it was because he had just died or because of what lay ahead: more war, more death, more torture. Certainly no rest.

Without so much as a warning, the Valar unfroze and the scene commenced. Everything was exactly as Robb remembered it-his confusion, their only marginally helpful explanations, the task he had been given. Even those of the Valar he had not regarded closely at the time were there, their forms clearer than any memory could produce.

Still, Robb felt Sauron's presence. It flickered like flames at the edges of his vision, hissing and chanting and laughing quietly in his ear. When Manwë mentioned his true name, Mairon, heat spread through Robb's chest. When they spoke of destroying him, it turned into a raging inferno.

Sauron was watching Robb's memories like a play, and there was nothing he could do to stop him. Robb tried to force Sauron out, to throw his own mind against his, but Sauron was powerful, experienced, and practically a god. Robb was none of those things. His attempts at fighting back were pathetic, so much so that Robb could hear chuckles echoing through his head.

Fine, Sauron seemed to say. Something else, then.

Something else was a collection of dreams Robb had hoped he had left behind after his stay in Lothlórien. As always, it started with Jeyne and himself, entwined in a joyful dance. Suddenly, she was torn from his arms. Walder Frey stabbed her chest and belly until her torso was scarcely more than pulp. Jeyne's pleading eyes stayed locked to Robb's the entire time, even as she screamed and sobbed and choked on blood. He watched the light fade from them, bone-deep horror fighting with Sauron's curiosity in his chest.

Robb stumbled back. His back collided with something-someone. Father. Pale, bloody, his head sewn back on with thick, messy stitches. Mother joined him, her throat gushing blood. Then came Bran and Rickon, burned beyond recognition, followed by his two little sisters. They were bruised and beaten, their eyes lifeless.

Robb knew what came after, yet the prospect of being killed by Roose Bolton was more appealing than seeing his family like this, listening to their pleas and cries and accusations. He wanted to press his hands over his ears, to squeeze his eyes shut, but his body would not respond. Whether he was confined to the body of his dream-self or forced to inaction by Sauron was irrelevant.

'You should have listened to Galadriel,' Robb's mind screamed at him. For once, he did not think it was Sauron. 'To Thanarwë. They told you this would happen. They told you he'd use your past against you, why couldn't you get over yourself, why didn't you LISTEN-'

When his head was finally ripped back, the pain in his scalp signifying Bolton's arrival, it was almost a relief. His knife trailed along Robb's chest, his face, his throat, until at last he pushed it up through his chin and into his skull.

Robb's blood tasted like deliverance.

Sauron barely looked at the other iterations of the dream, humming in amused indifference when he came upon the various ways dream-Bolton had killed Robb.

All of that bled away when, with a painful yank at Robb's mind, Sauron brought up the next memory.

This one, although very recent, Robb barely even remembered. Up until now, he had not been certain whether it had happened at all or if blood loss had led him to hallucinate. Now, at least, Robb supposed he could be sure it had been real.

It was a wolf dream. Grey Wind was with Sam, Frodo and another being Robb did not recognize. It was almost naked, missing more than a few teeth, and its remaining hair was thin and stringy.

There was a spark of disgusted recognition from Sauron. Gollum, his voice hissed, the sound echoing through Robb's mind once more.

From Grey Wind's eyes, Robb watched the army march past them, men and elephants alike. When they were attacked, Sauron's smug satisfaction burned away, replaced by hot fury. It sent another flare of pain through Robb's skull. Unable to scream, Robb wondered dully whether he was at least doing so in the real world, outside of the prison Sauron had turned his mind into.

When the wolf dream came to an end with Frodo's capture, for the briefest moment, Sauron did nothing. Then, he threw himself back into digging through Robb's brain with full force. This time, it was not the aimless perusing from before, no. He was searching for something specific and Robb had no choice but to let him. His mind was an open book and his memories were the index.

Sauron delved deeper and deeper, sending yet another flood of agony through Robb. He watched as more images flew through his vision, images of his family, of childhood tales, of Grey Wind, of his very first conversation with Galadriel.

"We have a mental connection," Robb heard his own disembodied voice say.

"Seek the bond," the Galadriel of his memories answered.

All at once, Robb knew what Sauron was looking for. A fresh wave of panic overwhelmed him and his mental struggle against Sauron began anew.

Robb could not let him warg into Grey Wind. Not now, not when his wolf was with-

Here we are, Sauron purred, a vicious sort of glee in his voice. You did beautifully, focusing on him.

His satisfaction sent an altogether different kind of fire through Robb. It was spine-tingling and lit sparks in his chest, and Robb hated it. His body was betraying him at Sauron's pleasure, his reactions entirely out of his control, as though he were some sort of puppet. Sauron made Robb feel good for helping him, however unwillingly.

It was the oldest trick in the book, the carrot and the stick: punishing Robb for resisting and rewarding him for compliance. But by the Gods, Robb would not let it work.

He swallowed a moan and ground his teeth together. He wanted the pain back. That, at least, was familiar.

Sauron's presence gave the impression of a shrug.

Fine, he seemed to say, be like that.

He ripped at the bond with Grey Wind. Robb screamed.

For a moment, he was sure Sauron had torn it out, severed the connection completely. The stabbing pain certainly indicated that. Then, the world righted itself and Robb knew it was worse.

He had warged into Grey Wind, and so had Sauron.

Immediately, Robb tried to leave, to prevent Sauron from seeing where they were, but it was impossible. Sauron's hold was too strong, anchoring them in Grey Wind's body for as long as he desired.

They were in the ruins of what must have been a bustling city once. Now, it was empty of civilians, the only people in the streets soldiers wearing the same leathers as the man who had captured Frodo. Grey Wind was unbound, though. That was the only positive aspect Robb could see.

Frodo, Sam and the creature Gollum sat close to him, hiding behind a wall from the battle that raged beyond it. They all looked tired and hungry, the two Hobbits far thinner than the last time they had been together. Sam flinched every time another boulder tore through buildings and people alike while Frodo seemed almost catatonic, staring into space.

There, Sauron hissed in Robb's mind, drowning out Gollum's sullen mumbling. Grey Wind gave a jolt, then shook his head as if to rid himself of an itch. Predictably, Sauron remained unbothered.

He nudged them forward but before they could reach Frodo, a deafening shriek split the air. With Grey Wind's more sensitive ears, it sent another stab of pain through Robb's mind. Grey Wind flinched back, letting out a startled bark, and even Sauron's presence recoiled for a second.
It was enough time for Frodo to disappear.

"Mister Frodo!" Sam called out, scrambling to his feet as well. "Where are you going?"

He ran after Frodo, out into the danger of battle, Robb- Grey Wind- Sauron hot on his heels. By the time they found him, Frodo was halfway up a flight of stairs. One of the Nazgûl circled above on what Robb could only describe as a dragon.

His wonderment and terror both were squashed by Sauron's derisive snort in his head.

Fell beasts, he sneered, nothing more.

Dragon or not, the beast swooped down as soon as Frodo reached the top of the stairs. With a panicked jolt, Robb realised the Ring was in his hand, held out for the Nazgûl to take as soon as it came close enough.

Cold spread in Robb's chest. The Ringwraith screeched again, and Robb wanted nothing more than to leap forward, to stand between it and Frodo, to cover him with his own body and shield him from claws and teeth and swords alike.

Instead, he stayed rooted to the spot.
ä Grey Wind barked and howled and strained every muscle, Robb screamed and cursed inside his head, but Sauron kept them back. His delight was almost palpable. And no wonder-in that moment, Sauron was closer to his goal than ever before.

That triumph alone seemed enough for him.

Robb could feel himself drifting away from Grey Wind's mind. Sauron was finally letting them leave, but Robb did not know whether he still wanted that. What if Frodo died? What if a few more seconds were enough for Robb to wrestle control from Sauron and save him. But then what if Sauron learned even more?

His hold on Robb and Grey Wind was still strong, yet Robb's vision was fading. The last thing he saw was Sam sprinting up the stairs.

A moment later, darkness overtook him.