This is a continuation to AzureSkye's crackfic, which I'm sure you will be able to find easily! I, currently, have forgotten the title, which is why I cannot write it in the introduction, but this is actually part of the series of private messages that we sent each other. It's actually pretty hilarious.
While Glaurung bent his long neck over in pain, Morgoth himself was having problems breathing and could not stop blinking as tears watered his eyes. As for the dragon with probably the one and only slap of his life, this wasn't the first time that such a thing happened to the Enemy, the original Dark Lord, the whole entendre of Evil Incarnate, Delu-Morgoth, also known as Morgoth Bauglir. Shallow breaths came in and out as he tried to see past blinding light and feel other things than blinding pain.
For once, he really wanted to kill a woman.
Seriously, he didn't even want to kill Niënor or Lúthien, but Morwen was seriously walking the risky line here.
He watched sullenly as Ecthelion Lord of the Fountain made his way over to the daughter of the woman that he would very much like to strangle.
"My lord?" asked Glaurung, a visible handprint on the scales of his face. Some were even chipping off. Damn, Niënor could hit hard.
"Do not say anything," Morgoth growled, sinking to his knees when he noted that the pain wasn't going away.
Five minutes ago, he could still remember the surprise written across his face as Morwen did the unforgivable.
As Túrin stepped away from Morgoth, lowering Gurthang, reforged by Fëanáro Curufinwë himself, Morwen stepped up to Morgoth, a strange, peaceful look on her face. Her grace was still there, and her youthful appearance was returned to her.
"This is for the years of all the acrimony and trouble you've given my family and me. I will never forgive you, you—you bastard! For all of the pain you have placed upon my son and my daughter Niënor, let yourself know everlasting pain thricefold!" yelled Morwen. And then she proceeded, with excellent accuracy, to knee the Melkor, Morgoth Bauglir, Black Enemy, Evil Dark Lord, Lord of Angband, Destroyer of the Two Trees in the groin.
He bent over in excruciating pain. Everlasting indeed.
He doubted he would ever forget the feeling of being kneed in the groin (read as: the place where Arien does not shine, nor did Laurelin while Laurelin was still alive) by a woman with sharp knees, as hard as rocks, piercing as a torrent of pebbles.
Morwen, turned away, as Morgoth could tell, was smirking as she folded her arms across her chest.