This is such a weird little bunny... and I can't even blame the fact I'm sick for it, since it's an older bunny that attacked me again tonight.
Melkor watched, pale-blue eyes cold as ice. His little brother—usurper— lay in the corner of the cave, already broken and bloody from what Melkor had done to him. He walked closer, his footsteps prompting Manwë open his eyes. But instead of fear, as Melkor had expected there was—sadness?—in those eyes that were a darker counterpart to his brother's.
"I'm sorry," Manwë forced out from behind broken lips.
"Sorry for what?" Melkor snapped.
"For whatever it was I did in the beginning to make you hate me," Manwë replied simply, his sapphire eyes surprisingly vulnerable behind the confused haze the pain left. Melkor couldn't say anything in his surprise, staring dumbly at Manwë, prompting the other Vala to continue.
"You're my first memory, you know," he said wistfully. "I saw you looking down at me before I saw Atar. All my life up until the Music, I just wanted you to be proud of me, to love me…I could never figure out what I had done to make you turn away from me." He paused, obviously trying once more to figure out just what he had done.
"What did I do?" he finally asked Melkor, an odd pleading note in his voice. Melkor closed his eyes as the image of the Lord of Arda, Ilúvatar's chosen King, shattered irrevocably, and all Melkor could see was his little brother, hurting and confused. He fell to his knees at Manwë's side.
"You didn't do anything, Manwë," he whispered, voice rough. "I hated Ilúvatar for decisions He made—which all seemed incapsulated in you."
"I never asked to be king," Manwë whispered seriously. "If Atar had made you king instead of I, I would have followed you." Melkor stared at the sincerity of Manwë's deep eyes, knowing that was exactly what his little brother—his faithful little brother—would have done.
"I know," Melkor finally whispered, carefully beginning to gather Manwë into his arms. He had not embraced or even touched his little brother except to wound and break since before the Music…long before the Music. He still hated Ilúvatar, but he could not find it in him to hate Manwë any longer, his little brother who loved him with all the depths of his guileless soul, despite all Melkor had done.
Surprisingly, Manwë did not flinch or act afraid at all when Melkor pulled him close. He simply shifted as much as his broken fána could endure to lay comfortably in Melkor's arms. He sighed softly, a small smile beginning to play about his lips.
"I love you," he whispered softly. Melkor smiled, something that tugged painfully at his lips, as he reached up to gently stroke Manwë's bruised face.
"I love you too, little brother," he replied, meaning it for the first time in his existence. They stayed like that for a time, simply enjoying what they had so belatedly found. Naturally, it was Melkor who broke it first.
"I need to get you back to your little friends," he said, not quite hiding the reluctance in his voice. Manwë frowned.
"Can't I stay?" he asked, not quite hiding the pleading in his voice. Melkor shook his head.
"I can't heal you," he said quietly. "If I take you back in closer, the others will find you. And they'll be able to help you." Manwë sighed. He didn't like it, but he understood his brother's motivations. Melkor carefully slid an arm behind Manwë's knees, lifting the younger Vala into his arms and standing up before thinking them both to a planet not far from the space that the other Valar had long claimed as their own. He carefully lowered Manwë to the soft grass. Then, gently, he smoothed back the younger Vala's hair from his forehead, and kissed him softly. Then he turned and left, knowing the other Valar would be there shortly, and his presence would do no favors for Manwë.
True to Melkor's prediction, it did not take long for the other Valar to find their chosen leader, most exclaiming angrily about what Melkor had done to him, as Estë and Irmo began to work to repair the damage to Manwë's fána. But Manwë's eyes were drawn to the only one not in commotion: and Námo stared back with a knowing expression on his face. Seeing the questioning look in Manwë's eyes, he came forward and sat by his head.
"The future is completely different now," was all the prescient younger Vala said, but it was enough to bring a smile of hope and joy to Manwë's face, which lingered even as Estë and Irmo pushed him into a deep healing sleep.