With but a flicker of a thought, the fireplace next to him lit up, illuminating the vast bedroom Mairon occupied. He sat himself in an armchair and watched the fascinating dance the flames performed before his eyes as he awaited for his husband's arrival.
It could have been hours, or mere seconds, until his ears caught the sound of the door opening and heavy footsteps resounding in the deadly silence of the room, only broken by the eventual crack of the fireplace. The Maia knew something troubled Melkor the moment he sat beside him in the throne room that morning and, since then, he had prepared himself for what he knew was to come.
"Mayazônôz," the Vala said, his voice deep and smooth "It is a relief to see you at last." The steps came closer until they halted just behind the armchair.
Mairon turned his head slightly upwards when the other caught a red lock of hair between his fingers, a light smile playing over his lips. The smile faded, however, when he noticed Melkor's creased brows and anguished eyes.
"What happened, Bele? What troubles you tonight?" He asked, genuine concern clear in his tone as he raised a slender hand to touch Melkor's own.
The Lord of Angband did not answer his spouse's question for a long time, being completely lost in thoughts. Mairon had nearly given up his hope on receiving an answer from him when he finally spoke.
"Do you regret joining me?" Was all that left the Vala's lips, the question hanging heavy in the air despite the nonchalant tone used for its uttering. There was another long pause.
"Well, I never truly chose to join you but if I had, I would not regret it. Despite our problems, I am happy here." Melkor moved to stand in front of Mairon, his frown softening as he studied the Maia more intently.
"Do you speak the truth, my Little Flame? Do you not deceive me?" His voice now had a tinge of doubt mingled with barely concealed suspicion.
"I would never lie to you, that you know well. I do not understand the nature of your questions, my beloved," he spoke sincerely "Have I given you a reason to distrust my loyalty to you?" He rose to his feet and moved a hand to push a few stray strands of dark hair from Melkor's face, then urged him to take a seat himself.
After Melkor had lowered himself in a seat across from his redheaded Maia, his voice was heard again as his pale blue eyes met Mairon's own starlit ones. "I see it in your eyes sometimes. When you look to the West or see someone who came from there. You long to abandon me here and go join them, do you not? I forced you into this union and now you yearn to leave me, you yearn to be free." With that, he stood and pulled Mairon to his feet. His blackened hands made quick work of the coat the fiery being wore and when he dropped the article of clothing on the floor, he let his fingers run over the Maia's nearly impossibly white wings, folded neatly behind his back. "But then, I do not want you to leave me, I do not want you to fly away, my angel."
His vague words troubled Mairon to no end, and he sook a meaning for them, finding none. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but words failed him and he remained in silence, eyes fixed upon Melkor's face, looking for any sign that would give off his intentions.
"Maybe, maybe you will not leave... No, you will not leave, you will not fly away if you are unable to do so." The Vala murmured lowly, his expression darkening for a split second before he gave Mairon a smile so sweet it was nearly sickening.
"Belekorôz, what are you talking about?" The Lieutenant inquired, his voice and posture showing unease. A sudden move of Melkor's made him stumble backwards, his instincts screaming at him to run, to escape whatever was about to happen. He ignored them, however, the idea that Melkor would never do anything against him fixed in his mind.
The Dark Vala had abruptly reached for him, pulling Mairon close to himself, then pushing him down, so that the Maia was laid on his stomach.
It earned him a cry from Mairon, who did not expect to be carelessly thrown on the floor. The moment the spirit of fire attempted to push himself from the floor, however, a heavy knee on the nape of his neck and another between his shoulder blades pinned him down, rendering his efforts of freeing himself all but useless.
"You will not fly away, my angel, no, no..." He heard his husband whisper, and it only served to alarm him further.
Another cry resounded in the room when the Maia had his clothes torn, thus exposing the whole of his back, cry that was soon accompanied by a fearful gasp at the feeling of cold metal against his skin.
"Be-belekorôz?" The ancient name dripped from his mouth in a nigh desperate tone, while Mairon fought to remain calm, being sure that it was the best for him not to lose himself at that moment.
Melkor lifted the dagger from Mairon's back, looking at it with an air of wonder before setting it down beside him and proceeding to caress the majestic wings of his beloved. He plucked a feather from them, only to receive a pained and scared whimper in response.
Directing Mairon another sickening smile, he picked the dagger up once more, lifted one of the wings, holding it tightly to keep his spouse's struggles contained, then brought the sharp blade to its base.
"You will never fly, my beloved. You will forever stay here on the ground, with me." His voice dripped as if it were thick spiced honey. Impossibly sweet, but carrying a hint of something far different.
Just as the Vala began pressing the blade against the base of the wing he held, drawing blood from the sensitive spot, Mairon screamed and struggled more violently, desperate to escape the other's grip. In response, Melkor only held him tighter and willed the dagger to cut deeper, with more force.
"Stop! I will not go away! Belekorôz, stop this, please!" The plea went ignored, and Melkor continued his self-assigned task, only stopping for a moment when his dagger found bone.
Mairon let himself breathe a sigh of relief when the other stopped, but it was left too soon, for the Fallen One shifted his grip on the dagger and hit the bone, inciting a blood-curling scream from the one beneath him. He repeated the motion several times, until the bone had finally given away and broken, giving him way to finish severing the wing. The sickening crack of bone sounded in the room even louder than Mairon's desperate pleas.
The Maia, unable to scream any longer, merely left a broken sob from time to time, tears falling from his eyes and soaking the carpet underneath him. He had begged and pleaded for so long and with such intensity, he was no longer capable of producing a sound
When Melkor finished cutting that wing off, he set it aside, then moved his focus to the one that still remained. He caught it in the same unrelenting grip he had on the other, and set himself on giving it the same fate.
Mairon barely registered his second wing being severed, being too numb to feel anything but a Void within himself.
Once done, Melkor let himself admire his work, and ran his hands on his spouse's back, painting the white skin crimson as if it were a blank canvas for him to explore. His eyes shone with amazement and wonder, and he continued to soak Mairon in his own blood for what could have been hours.
The Vala stood and walked to the wings. Cutting each of them in half, he threw the pieces in the fireplace, for the flames to consume.
And there, Mairon watched them burn.