It took the Vala a couple of seconds to realize what just happened. The small yelp from behind the door turned into a long moan of lamentation that had Melkor's ears twitch, half in curiosity, half in concern.
It took him even longer to proceed to move, climbing down the dais with rather slow, delayed strides.
Now, one could easily say that the Dark Lord had little to no things to be truly afraid of (something he had been telling himself ever since he returned from Valinor with the accursed jewels), yet it was paranoia what grew over the years instead of self-esteem and confidence.
And above all, Mairon wasn't there.
He was alone.
In all honesty, he had absolutely no idea what he would find, what he had struck. And what he saw once the door was pushed open surprised him beyond words.
He grimaced incredulously at the sight of the Fëanorian struggling with the sword sticking out of his left shoulder to no avail. The position must have been unbelievably agonizing for the elf, as he had been practically impaled on the blade which penetrated both the wood and his body. His feet slipped for a few times due to the puddle of blood formed on the floor.
Melkor could do naught but stare in bewilderment.
"What the-" he uttered when Maedhros' eyes finally turned to him, acknowledging his presence.
ČTEŠ
Of Love and Torture
FanfikceThis is an Angbang/Silmarillion fanfic written by me and the incredible @SweetieDoggie. In which an irritable Melkor, a disaster-prone Mairon and an unfortunate Maedhros all end up in the same fortress, so naturally chaos ensues.
