Mairon stalked through the halls of Angband. The sounds of war were loud enough to be heard even this far within the walls. And it was only getting closer. There was little time left. Mairon could turn the tide. And yet, he had been commanded to remain behind. Mairon winced as his fast stride pulled at the wound in his side. So he was wounded. This did not make him any less deadly to the enemy. What was Melkor thinking?
Mairon shoved the doors to the great throne room open. He stood in the doorway, simply glaring at his master. Melkor should know better.
“Mairon,” Melkor called out, “Come, let us enjoy a few moments together. I’ve missed you.”
“I have been on the battlefield, Master, showing our enemy why they should fear us. There is so much more to be done. Why have you ordered me to stay behind?”
“Few of us will survive this, Precious,” Melkor said. “I know I ask much of you. I could not bear the thought of losing you.”
“Master,” Mairon said, his heart in his voice. He dropped the sword from his hand and strode across the room. As he moved, he pulled off one piece of armor and then another. Suddenly he needed to be in Melkor’s arms again. The war could wait an hour or two.
As Mairon reached the throne, Melkor rose to meet him. Mairon kicked off his boots. Melkor grabbed Mairon by the hair and pulled him in for a scorching kiss. Mairon gave himself to the moment. Melkor’s taste and the feel of that hard body against his was all he needed. He breathed in the scent of his master. He opened his mouth against Melkor’s, letting Melkor lead. He just wanted to feel. He did not know why he was suddenly so desperate for Melkor. Well, he was always desperate for Melkor. Yet this felt different. He forced those thoughts from his head. He wanted nothing but to live in the moment, to be in this world where only he and his beloved existed.
Melkor finally pulled back. “You taste so perfect,Precious. I can never get enough.”
“It is yours, Master. Take what you will.”
Mairon reached down to the bottom of his tunic, intent on pulling it over his head. “No, let me,” Melkor commanded softly. Mairon let his hands fall back down. He spread himself wide to give Melkor access. He was his master’s, and Melkor could do with him as he pleased.
Melkor took his time. As he slid fabric from Mairon’s silky smooth skin, his lips found purchase on each revealed inch. By the time he had Mairon shirtless, his Maia was shaking with pleasure. He could see that Mairon’s eyes were completely glazed. Melkor quickly picked up his lieutenant and carried him over to the fire. Mairon’s hazed mind still managed to wonder why there were already blankets and furs on the ground. It was as if Melkor had anticipated everything.
When Mairon was laid out before him, Melkor began working on the unnecessarily tight trousers that Mairon always seemed to prefer. Not that Melkor minded. But now, he needed them gone. It took time, and again he kissed every revealed bit of skin as he tugged those trousers down Mairon’s legs and threw them aside.
“Please, Melkor,” Mairon begged. He was not even sure what he was begging for. He just needed more.
“Patience, Precious,” Melkor purred as he knelt down between Mairon’s legs. “Let me have this now. I want to memorize every bit of the perfection of you.”
“As if you do not already know me fully,” Mairon said, amused.
“I do know you, Mairon, as you know me. I just want to make absolutely sure that I never forget. Please, just give me this now.”
Mairon nodded. He moaned loudly as he felt Melkor’s hands slide up his legs, starting from the ankles and slowly moving up to caress against his inner thighs. Melkor’s touch was fire. Mairon was convinced he was going to burst into flame, a flame that even he could not control.
“That’s it, Little Flame,” Melkor murmured. “Give yourself over to my touch. I am going to make your body sing for me.”
“Yours,” Mairon keened. “Only ever yours.”
“And I am yours,” Melkor whispered as he stroked up Mairon’s length with a single finger. “Always, through all the ages of this world. Remember that, my love. You are the one I chose.”
Mairon could no longer think. Melkor had wrapped one hand around his length and was now stroking. Finally, he leaned down and took the tip in his mouth. As he did so, his free hand reached up to toy with one of Mairon’s nipples. Mairon’s entire body arched up off the furs beneath him when Melkor took all of him inside his warm, intoxicating mouth. Mairon screamed as Melkor ran his tongue all around.
“That’s it, Precious,” Melkor sighed. “You are so beautiful like this. This is how I will remember you, lost in pleasure that only I can give.”
“Only you,” Mairon moaned. But it was not enough, it was never enough. He needed to be one with his Master. Somehow, it mattered more than ever now. The war outside was nothing when compared to the joining of Mairon and Melkor.
“Need you, Master,” Mairon demanded. Melkor smiled softly. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small vial of oil.
“You planned this,” Mairon laughed.
“But of course, Precious,” Melkor replied. “I always plan to take time to love you. It seems I cannot go for very long without the feel of you against me.”
“Nor I, master,” Mairon purred. “So take me, then. I have waited long enough.”
Melkor chucked, but Mairon could see something else in his eyes. Mairon refused to let it worry him. All that mattered was here and now. When Melkor laid down on top of him, Mairon spread his legs open wide, giving Melkor the best access possible. Melkor grinned as he dipped a finger into the oil and then slid it into Mairon.
Mairon groaned at the feel. He loved this, always, the feeling of fulness. It did not matter it if was his master’s fingers or length or even something else used for their enjoyment. Whatever it was, being filled with his master was a feeling that could not be surpassed.
“Right there,” Mairon hissed as Melkor found that spot deep inside him. “More,” he demanded. He needed to be completely filled. Nothing else would satisfy.
Melkor chuckled, but he did as his lieutenant commanded. A second and third finger were slicked up and then slid into Mairon. Mairon arched his back and spread his legs even wider. Melkor hardly had to move at all. Marion was fucking himself on Melkor’s fingers.
“So eager, my Precious,” Melkor said with a smile. How could he not love this creature below him? Mairon was perfect in every way.
“More,” Mairon demanded again. “Now. Need you.” Melkor could do nothing but comply. Fingers were removed slowly. Mairon reached down and used his own fingers to hold himself apart, to ease Melkor’s journey.
Finally, Melkor slid himself into Mairon. He tried to take it slow. He never wanted to hurt his beloved, at least not in ways that Mairon had not asked to be hurt. Yet Mairon pushed himself down, demanding to be taken hard. Melkor slid fully home. They both groaned in relief. Mairon wrapped his legs around Melkor’s waist, and Melkor wrapped his hands around Mairon’s. They were joined, one, as close together as it was possible to become physically. They lay there for a few long moments, enjoying the feel of each other, allowing the pleasure to grow.
Mairon was the first one to move. He wriggled on Melkor’s length, squeezing tight with that seductive grin of his that drove Melkor wild every single time. Melkor used the grip he had on Mairon’s waist to slide almost all the way out, only to thrust in deep. He moved, Mairon moved, they moved together. They truly were one. Their only goal was mutual pleasure. At first, Melkor’s pace was firm and steady, and Mairon’s movements easily matched. Yet soon, they both began to shudder. The pleasure was almost too much. Melkor missed a beat. Mairon shuddered against his master. Melkor tried to draw Mairon in closer. He needed more.
Melkor could feel his fea pressing against the bonds of the form he had held for so long. He could not leave this form even now, but in this moment, here with his Mairon, he felt the longing for what they once had, and his fea tried so desperately to touch his Precious.
“Let me, Master,” Mairon murmured. Mairon’s own fea slipped easily out of its bonds the feeling of pleasure lessened for a moment, but Mairon cared not. All that mattered was Melkor’s needs. Mairon wrapped his fea around Melkor and reached in to touch his lord. For an instant, two feas touched as two bodies found their completion in each other. The pleasure stretched from body to spirit. Two minds went white. They could not sense anything but each other and the absolute peak of pleasure they had reached.
The moment ended as quickly as it began. Mairon’s fea sank back into his body. He could feel Melkor’s seed inside him, and his own seed covered his stomach. He purred contentedly as he felt Melkor sink down beside him. He was content just to be held as he enjoyed the residual feelings their joining left behind.
It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. Mairon knew not. But finally, his mind cleared. He sat up, pulling himself from Melkor’s arms. He looked down at his master, and he could see in Melkor's eyes that he Vala too knew that their moment was over.
They both stood up and reached for their clothes. Mairon dressed quickly. He pulled on his tunic and trousers and then his boots. When he reached for the first piece of armor, he was surprised by the grasp of Melkor on his arm.
“No, Precious,” Melkor commanded. “You shall not return to the battle.”
“But my lord,” Mairon cried. He did not understand. Melkor knew that Mairon was their best chance. Why was he denying him? “Our armies need me.”
“Yes, yes they do. And so do I. But not here, my beloved. It is too late. It is far too late. The enemy will triumph. I have seen it. And I know that you of all people are intelligent enough to see how little chance we have.”
“No,” Mairon shook his head. Melkor was wrong. “We can still win this. I have faith in you, and I have faith in myself. Together we will destroy them.”
“I too have faith, my little flame,” Melkor said softly. “My faith is in you. You are the one who will ultimately triumph. Not here, and not now. Go, take the best of our armies. You will hide yourself until the enemy thinks they have destroyed us all. Then you will begin our work again.”
“I cannot do this,” Mairon whispered. “Do not ask me to lose faith in you.”
“Your faith in me has kept me going, even when I could not myself see any hope. Your faith in me will sustain me through whatever the Valar have planned for me. Do not lose heart, my Precious. It hurts me so much to see your pain. But you will survive. You will continue our work. It is you that will achieve our dream, with or without me.”
“No, Master, we will win together. We must. And if we are to lose, then I will be at your side until the end.”
“Mairon,” Melkor murmured. There was none of the terror he felt in his voice, only his love for the one, the only being to ever touch his heart. “You will go because I have commanded it. Go and be strong, my little flame. In the end, you will burn the whole world, I am sure of it.”
“Melkor,” Mairon cried. He couldn’t do this. It couldn’t be over. “Do not ask me to leave you, Melkor. I will not. I left you once before, and those millennia without you were the worst torture it is possible to endure. I will not suffer this again. I cannot.”
“You will, Precious. You are strong. You are the strongest of us, stronger than even me. You will hurt for a time, but you will heal.”
“No,” Mairon said firmly. “I will not leave you. In this one command I must disobey. You who know me better than anyone should know that I would never willingly walk away from you.”
“I know,” Melkor whispered.
Mairon felt strong hands grasping him from behind. “No!” He cried out, but the ballots gave him no mind. They dragged him from the throne room and down the halls of Angband. Mairon struggled.”Let me go,” he demanded.
“Our master demands otherwise,” one of the ballots said. “I am sorry my lord, but this must be done.”
Mairon reached deep within, preparing to lash out with his power. He would not go. But there was Melkor’s power, in his mind, pressing against him. The world faded away even as he continued to struggle.
When Mairon woke, he did not have to ask. He knew Melkor was gone. Melkor had been taken to Valinor. Mairon could still feel his presence, faintly, but he knew that would not last for long. Whatever the Valar had planned for Melkor, it would be their final plan. There was no coming back from this. He was truly alone.
Mairon stood up. He could barely think. His mind was in a daze. He had lost the one who had been a part of his very heart and soul. Melkor was wrong. He would never heal, not completely. How could he when they had taken him?
“My Lord.” A voice came from behind, drawing Mairon out of his thoughts.
“What,” Mairon snarled.
“We need to move,” the balrog said. The ground is shifting, breaking all around. I believe that the power the Valar have used is changing the world.”
“Of course it is,” Mairon sneered. How ironic that the Valar would do far more to destroy Arda than Melkor ever could.
“Where do you want us to go, My Lord?” The balrog asked.
“What does it matter?” Mairon asked. “Our Lord is gone.”
“We can rebuild,” the balrog returned. “Lord Melkor told us that you would be the one to lead us into the future.”
Mairon closed his eyes. He was so tired. He remembered the feel of Melkor’s fingers on his skin. Such simple pleasures he would never feel again. There would be no other. Oh, he would do what he had to. His body was a tool as any other, and it was one of his best. How easy it was to sway others to him with a simple tilt of the hips. But he belonged to Melkor alone. He would never let another have power over him, for there was none other that could be worthy. His heart was gone, and the world would soon know the terror that he could bring when separated from his love. They feared Melkor? They named him Morgoth? Well, Mairon would bring more destruction and terror than even Melkor in his darkest of days.
“Yes,” Mairon commanded. “We will leave. We will split into smaller groups that will be harder for the enemy to find. We will look for a new home. But be cautious. Do nothing that might risk showing ourselves. We will wait in the shadows. They will believe we are all gone. Then, when they believe they are safe, that is when we will strike.”
“Yes, My lord,” The balrog nodded.
Mairon spun around and walked out. They would do as he commanded, of that he had no doubt. For himself, though, he needed more time. He needed to pull himself together and to mourn the loss of Melkor. Only he had truly loved Melkor. Only he felt the true loss. So he would mourn and then he would feel nothing ever again.