The speech by the servant of Melkor is from the Book of Lost Tales part 1 page 163 in my copy. I reworded it but wanted to keep the main jist of it because it's great.
Melkor walked leisurely past the attendants of Mandos watching passively from under their hoods. They said nothing as the Vala drifted by, for the orders had not yet arrived from Taniquetil and he was able to leave the Halls uncontested.
He hid out in the dismal landscape, grateful no one ever frequented this place. Once he was out of sight several shapes rose up from under him with features gray and gloomy.
Together they went on into the recesses of the north, reaching an outcropping sheltered between the mountains. There they finally stopped after Melkor deemed it acceptable. They sat atop the hills overlooking Valinor and gazed down at the bright towers and streets while concealed behind a layer of shadow.
"My brother sent me back. He gets rid of any who do not conform to his dream of peace and harmony. Complete tyranny."
They murmured their agreement.
"We must first take back what is mine. They keep these hidden away lest I discover the truth in their making."
He stretched out his arm, pointing far-off to the green region of Eldamar, and their dark eyes followed.
"That is where you must go and report every happening to me," he explained.
"Is that all?" they asked him, hoping for a reason for tolerating the light of the Two Trees other than to watch Elves.
Melkor searched intently over the land below, his stare resembling burning coals. "No. Weaponry I need you to bring also- I feel I shall need to defend myself from all this hostility going around."
On the eve of the festival of Samirien, Mairon stood alone on a hilltop overlooking the outskirts of Valmar.
He watched as the Silmarils were carried off with the shadow that swept across the plain, and Mairon was certain that would not go long unnoticed. He was not about to just hope he would get away in time, or that Melkor would not simply go back on his words once he was fully under his power.
All very likely outcomes, he thought sarcastically as he watched Melkor depart on horseback. He raised a hand in parting before turning around to face Taniquetil. The horizon above the mountains was slowly growing darker, casting shadows over the hills below.
He ran back the way he'd come until he reached the end of the road, where lively Valmar appeared asleep. Plumes of smoke drifted up into the sky, the streets silent and empty. He walked casually through the city, since helping Melkor escape was rationally the last thing he would be doing out here.
At last he returned, cautious that his absence might have been suspicious- yet based on the tension in the room, he had only missed that, and was glad. Everyone was much too preoccupied with some matter to take notice.
The feast concluded several hours later. Elves pranced drunkenly down the path flowing alongside streams and crossing over bridges, singing together, the Ainur trailing closely afterward. The former returned to Eldamar and the evening was quiet and tranquil until Fëanor's horrified scream came all the way from Formenos.
In what felt like mere seconds the streets were ablaze with lights and a crowd had gathered at the gates. Eönwë calmly went down to meet them, returning with Fëanor and several of his house to be brought before Manwë.
An argument followed, but from where the Maia stood he could not make it out, so he moved up to the front where the Vala was attempting to reason with the crowd of enraged Elves.
"But you can just make more gems-"
Fëanor rolled his eyes, irritated that the Vala would even make such a suggestion. "I imagine you enjoying that, yea. What other purpose did we have but to make these for your having?"
"You forget your own obsession with these things, and that if you had not valued them over yourselves, there is a strong possibility Finwë would still be alive."
Fëanor's suspicion only increased. "Why is it that you continue to defend Morgoth?"
"Do you not recall being warned against consorting with him?"
"Then why isn't he locked up somewhere?" he demanded angrily. "Do you always just let him go around freely?"
To this Manwë gave no answer, gripping his scepter tightly in his hand. Aulë had watched in a state of shock, but now he came forward.
"I am sorry, Manwë. The Noldor are sweet, beautiful creatures incapable of such hostility on their own."
The Vala said nothing in return.
Mairon was accustomed to this sort of behavior by now, but in this Noldo's words was more spite than all of their insolence combined.
Tulkas came also to stand before the seat of Manwë. "What are we waiting for? Let us go at once."
He paced restlessly around the circle of Valar, trying to spread encouragement. He clasped Aulë on the shoulder and slapped Lórien on the back hard enough to throw off his balance.
Manwë raised his head. "Where?"
"After Melkor!"
"We do not even know where he is."
The other Vala kept walking. "I will find him."
Fëanor had gone, but the rest of the Elves cheered and accompanied Tulkas over to the gate.
"Tulkas, come back!" Manwë called. "You cannot confront Melkor alone."
Aulë hurried after him. "I shall blockade the mountains to prevent him from escaping that way. Tulkas, you may aid me in that."
It happened that no one had noticed a figure waiting on the other side of the gate, until now. The crowd of Elves still lingering there became distraught and moved away.
"What is it?" Manwë called down, trying to see past the large gathering of people blocking his view.
"Looks like one of Námo's people got out again," Tulkas replied.
"I come to speak to the gods," it said.
"A herald?" Eönwë assumed, standing at his post before the gate. "Who sends you?"
"Ainu Melkor."
Tulkas began picking up rocks he planned to throw over had the rest of the Vala not prevented him. The Eldar demanded it not be allowed in, but after much prompting the gates wrought of gold drew open and granted the dark visitor access.
"Perhaps he has an explanation," Manwë said to Tulkas, who grumbled, "A pity story, more likely."
At first, beholding the great glory of Manwë it quailed; but once the lord of Aman granted permission to speak, it recalled the message with all of its emotion.
"The lord Melkor, ruler of all realms east of Aman, to the Ainur his kindred: Behold, he has taken a few gems made by the hands of the Noldor, your slaves, as unpaid tribute as well as to compensate for harms suffered under your care. It grieves him that out of some inner malice they should have forced him to act in self-defense, yet he may be willing to extend forgiveness- in time- if certain demands are met. Firstly, all of the Noldor are to be his servants, and they shall build him a great house overtop-"
Its speech was cut short as Tulkas leapt down and wrestled it to the ground, ignoring Manwë's shouts of protest.
"Was it really your intention to sit through and listen to all of this?!" he demanded.
Manwë stood up in a flurry of blue and white. "Think of what you are doing, Tulkas. If you slay his messenger, we have lost all hope of peace with Melkor."
"There will never be peace with Melkor, and this is no herald!" He lifted the squirming servant up in the air for everyone to see.
All of the Noldor expressed their agreement with him, supported by most of the Valar. Manwë gradually sat back down and reluctantly consented, seeing the majority was set against him. He cast down his scepter, holding his face in his hands.
Manwë had hoped to at least send the spirit back to Melkor with the message, but instead they carried the false herald up to Taniquetil to cast him off and thereby return him to Mandos.
Mairon turned away from the unfolding chaos, hoping this would be over soon. He might have felt guilt if he chose to, but this was merely a means to an end, and he could not stop and allow strong emotion to cloud his focus.
At this time messengers arrived from the city and parted a way through the crowd to Manwë. "My lord, the stables have been broken into."
Melkor shifted around uncomfortably, unsure how to ride this beast. After leading them through vast uncharted terrain, they found themselves leagues off in the pastures outside of the city, where Valmar could only be discerned as two faint lights in the distance.
"Why did we need to take all these with us?" one of his companions asked over the jingling of overstuffed pockets. "I do not think it is possible to escape this way-"
"Their two spies cannot see us here," Melkor called back.
They followed a pass leading through the mountains out of Valinor. On the other side they brought the horses to a halt- or really, tried to. Admittedly it was much easier getting them to run than to stop.
As soon as Melkor lifted one of his legs to climb down, his steed saw the opportunity for freedom and broke into a gallop.
His companions sat and watched at first, but seeing that he might require aid rode after fast as they could manage. Melkor slipped off its back and fell with a thud, rolling down the hill.
They dismounted and ran over to help him. The flesh on his palm sizzled as if from a great heat, and he shoved them away before they could touch it. "Not my hand."
He stood, brushing grass off himself. "It appears I received the worst of them." The Vala started to walk towards the remaining horses. They turned and fled, scattered and frantic, the whites of their eyes showing.
It was now only a matter of time before the festival ended, and they happened to be stranded out here. A tumbleweed rolled past them on the plain.
Melkor turned to the spirit nearest him. "I need you to go deliver a message."
"I went on the first occasion."
"Another one then! Unless you have changed your mind, and would not have a place in my kingdom?" He pulled it aside and spoke into its ear what it was to say while the others watched curiously.
The messenger vanished to complete its errand, and Melkor immediately began running to the south, where there were mountains filled with dark caves in which to hide for the time being.
His cohorts struggled to keep up. "Master, wait!"
He pretended to be annoyed that he had to wait, when he was secretly afraid to go on alone.
The sharp wind blowing in resembled an agonizing scream that every so often subsided to a pained groan. Black night was everywhere, so thick and overshadowing that he felt it clinging to his face and trying to choke him.
But his heart was lighter now that he had friends. If it happened they were suddenly attacked, they would be taken first and give him enough time to escape.
Melkor searched his pockets for the casket containing the Silmarils and winced once the searing pain shot up his fingertips. But he held it open, letting the white light wash over the rock walls around them.
"My lord, I do not think we should stay here," one of his accomplices advised.
The Silmarils kept going, and they had no choice but to follow.
Not far away something stirred, shuffling towards them unseen. Melkor came to an abrupt halt. His first instinct was to cover the Silmarils and hide, but before they had a chance to flee a large shape crawled out from the deepest, darkest corner.
The Vala pretended he had not just been trying to escape and eagerly spun around to confront the giant spider.
"Ungoliant! After all these years, here ye are. A true servant you have shown yourself to be, appearing to your lord in his greatest need."
Her multitude of eyes gazed at him long, silently sizing him up and making the Vala uncomfortable. An echo of laughter vibrated within her.
When she spoke her voice came as a low buzzing that shook the air. You are no longer my lord, and you have entered my domain. What right does Melkor have to order me? What does he offer me?
"You shall be rewarded countless treasures." He flashed a gem from within his cloak, shining alone in the cave. Each of Ungoliant's eyes filled with lust and she extended one of her legs to grab it.
Melkor quickly hid it behind him. "To be yours only if ye follow me into Aman. Why remain hidden when the world yearns to see your beauty?"
A line of drool oozed from the spider's fangs, and she lapped it up with a loud slurp. He came closer while the eyes on that side watched him carefully.
"Remember the might of your lord when Ungoliant served him? How none of the Valar dared face him?" he whispered, lightly running the back of his hand against her wet skin. "The light of Valinor shall satisfy your gluttonous needs, and even then your master will give you whatever else you desire," he added with a wink.
Strange sounds emanated from the spider and her bulging body shuddered under his touch. He continued to pet her.
His companions stood in the background and glanced at one another. "Um…"
Ungoliant took a few steps forward and Melkor took a few steps back, offering the treasures to lure her out. She went forth from the caverns, the spirits of Mandos keeping a safe distance behind her. The Vala hid himself in the shadows of her giant form as she began to sniff her way to the Two Trees.
"YES!" Melkor cried, beginning to laugh. "Yes!"
The Maiar split up according to household and gratefully departed from the square, exhausted. Night had long fallen, as well as an uneasy silence once they were left alone.
"Sometimes I feel like these celebrations keep getting worse," someone muttered on the way to their quarters.
Mairon stopped in the midst of the crowd when he heard the quick footsteps of someone pursuing him, and turned to meet Eönwë's pale blue eyes waiting there expectantly.
"Did you see anything, Mairon? I noticed you had left the company for some time."
Instantly all his other thoughts ceased and his mind built up defenses. Of course. How had he been so careless? What did Eönwë not notice? He was now very grateful he hadn't over-rushed his return.
He looked over the Maia's countenance and was irked to discover the latter was examining him just as closely.
He offered a terse smile, not too casual for the situation but not too cold. "I think we can agree that Melkor's methods were unexpected. I would not have suspected anything, had I seen it."
Had that been a satisfactory answer? The herald studied him longer before slowly beginning to nod.
"Yes. It was quite unexpected. But then aren't most things that happen?" Giving him one final glance, Eönwë bade farewell and strode off in the opposite direction.
Mairon stared after him. He couldn't tell what the other Maia was thinking, and that perturbed him. Perhaps he had only a slight feeling and nothing more, or perhaps this was meant to be an act of intimidation.
He hurried to meet up with the rest of his brethren, hoping none of them had witnessed that- fortunately they were all far too distracted, and did not question him.
Aulë had been helplessly swept away earlier by the Noldor, who hoped he possessed some method to bring back their gems. Yet somehow a message was received from the Vala, detailing the guarding of the Pelóri against Melkor.
The forge was not found vacant. Fëanor was there, his back to them, rummaging through the wares and bins of supplies with no clear incentive.
The Maiar did not know how to approach him. Finally Mairon did, carefully reaching out his arm. "Fëanor, go join the rest of your people."
The Noldo turned around with such spite and anguish in his eyes that he probably did not even recognize him. "You don't control me! None of you do!"
He pushed past everyone gathered there and walked out, slamming the doors. The silence in the hall became almost intolerable, but still no one moved for some time. Only gradually did each wander off and start to fill the rooms with their usual collection of sounds- metal ringing off stone, buckets splashing over the soot-covered worktables, the clinking of tools.
While most were resting or began to prepare, Mairon could do neither. He watched the Maiar carrying out their tasks with a distracted gleam in his eye- unless he was needed, in which case he put in his usual amount of effort to avoid drawing attention.
Despite the outside air cooling the forge, he felt overheated and stifled. They hurried around oblivious to his discomfort, bits of their conversations barely reaching him.
"Curumo? I doubt he'll go, he talks his way out of everything…"
"Focus! Master Aulë is going to return to find us all standing here."
As he watched, it appeared as if the occupants of the dim forge were swathed in fire, flames covering their faces and spreading to their hair. Mairon was overcome by a strong urge to flee into the night and escape, or else fall at Manwë's feet and confess everything. But again he buried it, and all the more put on a pretense of urgently following the given orders.
The tension remained the next day, even with Laurelin shining its golden rays over what had been shadow the night before. The Noldor were rarely seen and the Maiar ideally chose to conceal themselves from sight, going about quietly as if afraid to cause a disturbance.
Along with other Maiar of Aulë, Mairon went to guard the northern pass. From what he'd been told, Aulë and Tulkas were to arrive later in order to fortify their work.
First, scaffolding was raised into the mountainside to support the heavy task, so that the excess stone could be carried down the slope to be stacked one on top of the other and seal off the entrance.
After giving instruction to those under him, he drove in the chisel and readied his hammer, beginning the strenuous process of breaking apart the rock. But as time passed his thoughts drifted off, as they had become accustomed to doing, and began to chide him for his inaction the previous day.
You shall never have the chance you've always wanted, too cowardly to pursue it. Melkor must surely be disappointed in you, believing ye had potential. Now it shall remain ever dormant, a waste…
He pushed the thought aside and tried to concentrate, but this time it rose out of the chorus of instinct and movement and calculation currently guiding him, in a taunting whisper speaking louder than all the rest:
Weak.
His aim slighted. The hammer missed its target and hit the wall with such force that the base of the mountain resounded with the blow.
He tasted blood in his mouth and wiped at his lips. No one said anything, although he could see wary glances cast in his direction.
Initially it had been a mistake, and he, like them, waited in nervous dread. The loose boulder came free and they were forced to take cover as the face of the mountain toppled in a pile of dust and rock.
"What are you doing, Mairon?!" they cried out once it was safe.
"It wasn't intentional," he insisted, setting down his hammer in the grass to assess the damage. No sign of his previous behavior remained while he went about clearing the rubble. They seemed relieved he was behaving normally again, and spoke no more of it.
Just as they were lifting the last stone into place, black clouds filled the sky in what appeared to be a storm coming from the Shadowy Sea. The Maiar paused to observe, frowning with disapproval.
"Ossë is pushing his luck this time."
The mingling of the lights occurred, turning the mountains gold and silver before everything dark. All conversation paused in waiting for the light to return, since there was no reason for Silpion to suddenly fail. Mairon could see the glowing outlines of his brethren standing nearby, the only sources of light.
The darkness was heading right for them. The Maiar moved out of the way of its course and raced to defend the wall, as if they stood a chance. He chose to remain, although he also felt strangely compelled to do so. The Vala seemed to be pursuing the road through the mountains even though it was closed off.
It occurred to him then that Melkor was not initiating a turn - and before he knew what was happening the shadows slammed into him, knocking the breath out of his chest.
His first thought was that he had gone into the Void, into the eternal night where Melkor had wandered before time. The ground vanished beneath his feet and he was engulfed in the shadows, staring at the place he had been standing just a moment before.
Mairon reached out for something to hold onto. Time seemed to slow where he was floating in an expanse of black, set apart from the rest of the world. A large shape took up most of the space, but beside it there was another figure, their two eyes piercing the veil of shadow.
He turned back. A pursuit followed, consisting of the Valar upon their steeds. Varda was holding a radiant white star aloft to light their way, and the distance between them was steadily closing as they increased speed.
Tulkas had managed to penetrate the shadows and his hand was nearly to Melkor, who recoiled back as far as he could and closed his eyes, pleading for it to miss.
Then at the last second Ungoliant changed course and the company fell once again far behind. The cloud of darkness shifted from side to side and Melkor's laughter seemed to come from everywhere at once, confusing his pursuers.
What Mairon had taken as part of the shadows was actually four figures running in front, leading them through an opening hidden within the mountains.
The air became much colder in the vaults of Mandos. Some of the spirits dwelling there cried out in surprise as they tore past, but most watched blankly and returned to keeping track of time on the wall.
At the end of the passage the stars peeked in, shining down on a frozen plain extending north to the narrow stretch of land that led across the sea. Melkor laughed gleefully at the violent waters crashing through the ice as Ungoliant crossed with little difficulty.
Years seemed to pass with only the black sky and the stars, until at last the peaks of cold, gray mountains appeared in the far distance.
Melkor had grown silent. He seemed to be getting more anxious the closer they came, staring straight ahead as if waiting for the right moment to get away.
The winds howled louder, as if trying to drive them back. Mairon felt the numbness wearing off and his body becoming heavy. The shadows slipped away and he fell, unsure whether he cried out.
Not that Melkor was paying attention, anyway. He didn't want to give up what was rightfully his, but Ungoliant was eyeing him in the same untrustworthy way she had before and making him nervous.
He could now behold the approaching Mountains of Shadow where his fortress was and urged himself to go faster. But she was right behind, careful not to let him get too far ahead.
This was the part where they would ditch her, he decided. He turned back to inform his allies, only to realize he was alone.
Ungoliant seemed to sense his plight. Her laughter resonated deep inside the dark cloud pursuing him.
I recall ye promising me those jewels you are hiding. I shall take those now, for the light of Aman has hardly satisfied me.
"Ye already ate everything. Why not eat the whole world? Nay- you would still be hungry."
In a fit of rage Ungoliant pinned him down with one of her talons. Melkor kicked and fought, but to no avail- she had grown much stronger, and he much weaker.
She began to spin her webs of darkness around the Vala, enclosing him in a prison not unlike that of Mandos. Before his face was covered he shouted as loud as he could in some last, futile hope.
The earth began to rumble. Ungoliant stopped suffocating him. He thought Eru had intervened to save his favorite Ainu, and enough strength filled him to begin crawling to safety.
He could hear the crack of a whip and felt a great heat singe his back. A bright fire had consumed the sky above him, yet he dared not raise his head, not until the tumult had ended- and then he passed out.