85 ~ Mairon

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The lieutenant shifted in his saddle, leather squeaking beneath him, his black stallion snorting and shaking its massive head, and it seemed to Maglor that even their horses were emanating that air of evil. Like a thick mist it surrounded the fortress and the places in the far north. It was all just a giant wasteland, as befitting of a Dark Lord.

"Hm, I wonder what that could be..." drawled the fallen Maia, wiping away a golden strand of hair from his sharp face. The elf's blank look gave way to an annoyed one, his brows knitting into a frown, and much to Maglor's frustration, Sauron found it immensely amusing.

"Ah, yes, I think I remember! It's that precious little brother of yours, is it not?" he purred, savoring the anger radiating from the Noldo.

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