He's no stranger to the empty feeling when Melkor withdraws; the ache that is leaves is not quite so strong as when he was first taken away, a scab peeled rather than a wound salted. It only made Mairon withdraw further, but for all that he wished to close his mind and block Melkor from it, to flee from his danger, he did not.
It only barely stops him from bristling and snarling in return, though there is a soft coldness to it when he continues speaking, an anger towards his own master (once-master?) that he had not felt before. Or hadn't for a very, very long time.
"I sought the aid of the Elves and presented myself as an emissary from Valinor, offering them a chance to transform Middle-Earth into Aman itself." Or so he thought. Looking back now, had that ever been his goal?
(Of course it was. It still is. It must be.)
"With my knowledge and teaching we forged a set of rings imbued with much power, to be given to the Elves themselves. I made for myself a ring with even greater power inside, to command the others and the minds of their wearers, to bend their wills to mine so that I might use them in my atonement."
He gestures briefly, curtly, to the bureau where the replicas are, and then to his own hand where he still turns the band of gold around his finger like a nervous habit. As foolish and wrong as such a thinking may be to others, he hadn't anything wrong of it then, and he doesn't now.
no subject
He's no stranger to the empty feeling when Melkor withdraws; the ache that is leaves is not quite so strong as when he was first taken away, a scab peeled rather than a wound salted. It only made Mairon withdraw further, but for all that he wished to close his mind and block Melkor from it, to flee from his danger, he did not.
It only barely stops him from bristling and snarling in return, though there is a soft coldness to it when he continues speaking, an anger towards his own master (once-master?) that he had not felt before. Or hadn't for a very, very long time.
"I sought the aid of the Elves and presented myself as an emissary from Valinor, offering them a chance to transform Middle-Earth into Aman itself." Or so he thought. Looking back now, had that ever been his goal?
(Of course it was. It still is. It must be.)
"With my knowledge and teaching we forged a set of rings imbued with much power, to be given to the Elves themselves. I made for myself a ring with even greater power inside, to command the others and the minds of their wearers, to bend their wills to mine so that I might use them in my atonement."
He gestures briefly, curtly, to the bureau where the replicas are, and then to his own hand where he still turns the band of gold around his finger like a nervous habit. As foolish and wrong as such a thinking may be to others, he hadn't anything wrong of it then, and he doesn't now.