TerrifyingTolkien Week, Day 2: "stars hide your fires". (Day 1 is "all shall fade".)
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, Tolkien does.
Warnings: mental and physical torture, blood, sadistic husbands?
Melkor purposely walked loudly around the corridor, knowing that it made him sound confident and therefore terrifying to the wrecked innocent souls behind the dungeon doors. Just the clicking sound of his feet against the cold marble was enough to make the prisoners cower in fear in the corners of their cells; and Melkor loved that. He loved the power he held over such weak beings, he relished in the pain he could cause in others.
The dark dungeons of Angband radiated fear, Melkor could almost smell it in the air around him. The orc guards straightened as he walked past, but he paid them no heed. He had come down here in search of Mairon, and orc guards were not worth distracting him.
As much as Melkor adored torturing, it was more often than not that Mairon spend more time down here than his master did. This happened because, like Melkor, Mairon liked to let out all his frustrations on the prisoners, why else where they here? But the thing was that Mairon was angry and frustrated more than Melkor was. And then there was the fact that Mairon also enjoyed torturing for the fun of it; although he preferred a less direct method than Melkor.
Mairon rarely laid a hand on the prisoners. Physical pain, the satisfying smacking sound of the leather wip as it made contact with bare skin and the agonizing screams of the innocent were music to Melkor's ears, yet they did not satisfy his lieutenant the same. Mairon preferred the less direct approach of making them break, he liked to play with them; he liked to play with their minds.
And Mairon liked to play only when he's happy, or bored, which results in cruel, creative Mairon. Nothing made Melkor want to kiss him more than the sadistic sick grin on his face that lights up with excitement and pride when he breaks someone.
Mairon likes power, but he doesn't enjoy it the same way Melkor does. Melkor wants people to obey him, and he doesn't care how he achieves that. Mairon on the other hand, enjoys being in control, but what he enjoys even more is manipulation. He loves manipulating people, making them think they are in charge when in reality, it is he that moves the strings. He lures people into well-constructed traps, he relishes making them believe that they are acting on their own will while in reality they are his puppets. He finds their weak points and push until they break, he disguises himself as a prisoner and discovers all their plans of escape, all their weaknesses, all their careful preparations to leave Angband in stealth and then laughs at the horror-stricken expressions on their faces when they find out who he really is, he laughs as he breaks the last shred of hope they have left.
Sauron the Deceiver, they call him, and he smiles.
But today Mairon was angry, so Melkor did not know what to expect. He liked manipulating prisoners, true, but when he was angry he was easier to appease but also more unpredictable.
When Melkor entered the right dungeon, the first thing he noticed was Mairon. His reddish golden hair fell down his shoulders in perfect curls, framing his face like alive fires, fires that reflected in his dark, cat-like eyes. He wore a long crimson and black robe, one of Melkor's favorites, because it looked fantastic on him. The golden circlet with the ruby he never took off was sitting on his head. His smile was a bit too wide, a bit too cheerful, considering the blood on the walls.
Melkor had never seen anything more beautiful.
"Satisfied now?" He asked his lieutenant, coming up behind him. Mairon turned, surprised, and he his smile turned softer when he found the Vala in front of him.
"That was fun." Mairon said, looking over at the bloodied and unrecognizable body of an elf who had no doubt died in Mairon's hands.
"Certainly." Melkor said, stepping closer to the Maia and lifting his chin with a finger. "You have been gone for some time."
"Really?" Mairon asked with a smirk. "How long did it take you to notice I was gone?" His smile was teasing, and his eyes were alight with something more than sadistic excitement. His yellow irises looked at Melkor shining with genuine happiness and that emotion Melkor had come to identify as love. He let himself get lost in the pools of color, wondering not for the first time how could anyone call him 'the abhorred'.
Mairon was beautiful, perhaps the only beautiful thing in this miserable world that needed fixing. Melkor would win it for him, just to see his eyes brighten even a little and make him smile.
"You are cruel and ruthless, my love." The Vala said, looking deep into the burning yellow eyes. "Stars hide your fires."
Mairon grinned playfully. "What stars?" He asked, placing a hand over Melkor's chest and gently tracing designs on the soft fabric. Melkor caught the wrist that was decorated with countless bracelets on a firm grip, and leaned down until his face was but a breath away from Mairon's.
"You're right, there are no stars." He breathed out. "You burn brighter than them." Melkor said and his lips finally touched Mairon's, gently at first, but then more demanding as he cupped the Maia's cheek and deepened the kiss; the dead body behind them forgotten.