A/N: Alannada:
And here we are again, for the second chapter - and for this one we will look inside Angband!
Thanks to Cstorm86 for all your help, dear!
Lord Yaulendil:
Yay! I took much bigger part in the creation of this chapter than the previous one, so I really hope you like it!
2.
"Go on, call upon thy Balrogs. May it be seen if they arrive in time to behold the neutron star this one shall create, before it engulfs thy chamber and ruins not only thy carpet, but the whole mountain range. Thou may try to call upon thy servants now."
Such were Varda's words as, one day, she appeared in Angband. Airë Tári was known to speak words that rang only true, she was also known to be exact in what she spoke. When she promised a neutron star - a neutron star would have been born in the gloomy halls of Angband. And that was how the talks began.
During which Melkor reluctantly admitted that maybe, just maybe, they were going to meet with problems conquering the whole of Beleriand and keeping it conquered throughout the ages to come. Maybe their resources were not enough, and burning a huge part of land to the ground lately didn't help either. Not even mentioning the fact that his ability to lead his subjects and scheme were maybe a tad lessened thanks to the injuries sustained in his duel with High King Fingolfin.
Varda agreed that aye, maybe it was the case.
Tea was brought. The talks continued. Arien went past the Door of Night and Tilion roamed the sky, where Varda's Maiar oversaw the fusing balls of particles known to the dwellers of Arda as stars.
Stronger drinks were brought (among them the Ent-draught). Varda confided in Melkor how it was to hear all that was happening on Arda, at all times, and be told it was best not to intervene. Melkor muttered something about life choices and trying to fix your messes resulting in bigger messes. Some past and recent traumas were relived. Some tears were shed.
At some point, there was a very real threat of physical violence. A table was flipped, honey cookies rained over the rich carpet of Melkor's Ebony Tea Chamber, the flames of the candles burned with rainbow light, the dark shadows darkened even more in the immediate proximity of the two, still holding their tea cups - Melkor's now half frozen solid and half steaming hot, Varda's hissing and bleeding fotons. Sauron was forced to intervene. He later admitted that standing between two angry Valar was the scariest thing he'd ever experienced in his existence, and swore to himself never to do that ever again.
They talked for seven days and seven nights straight.
Then, when Varda left Angband, they arranged a proper council meeting. Sauron and Gothmog were visibly breathing easier and Thuringwethil came out of her dark cave to join them in the again perfect darkness.
.
No creature was safe in the close proximity of the Dark Lord. Not a single one. Even the closest allies.
"Stop fidgeting, would you?" Melkor forced the giant werewolf to turn his head away from him. It wasn't an easy feat, as he was sitting on the beast's neck, and its head alone was bigger than him.
"There's literally a piece of felt right here, we're gonna have to cut it out…"
With a pair of scissors, humming quietly, he started working on the patch of fur in question, behind one of the big fluffy ears.
Draugluin let out a canine sigh and resigned himself to the procedure.
"There it is," Melkor waved the tangled piece of wolf hair before throwing it through the window. That was when he spotted the party of elves in the distance.
"Damn it, they're here already?"
Sauron, who at this very moment stood in the doorway of Melkor's living room, sighed as he beheld his dark liege, in his finery, straddling the giant wolf. The opalescent violet and red layers of silk, adorned with tiny beads and sequins, were now also covered in tufts of black and blue fur. More fur was scattered about the fluffy carpet. Someone was going to waste half a day to brush it all out.
"Yes, indeed, my liege. They have arrived."