Werecat99 asked for a ficlet about Melkor, "lusting after Lúthien, or Beren, or both." Behold, he lusteth.
THE OTHERS
There is a black hollow in his crown where there should be light. It has been prised out like any ordinary jewel. In his heart, there is darkness where joy should have been. There is fear.
Elves are not the ones to be feared, he thinks. They have beauty, yes, but no power. Ambition is the lifeblood of the Noldor, and yet they will sacrifice it for their sense of self. They are unworthy foes. No, the danger lies in these others – these ragtags and half-breeds of the world. These fey children, strange and enchanting, ready to risk themselves for little reason – and he knows why Lúthien Melian's daughter danced for him, he knows of her mortal lover now – they are the ones who will upset his theme. They are unbound, still ignorant. In ignorance lies their power, and power is beauty.
He thinks of her, wild abandon in her eyes as she twirled about him, breathless and half-naked, laughing like an elven-child. Her power strikes through him like lightning. And for the first time since Fingolfin son of Finwë betrayed himself in madness to defy what was so far above him, Melkor grows afraid, and feels his now-hideous body weighed down, leaden with lust.