Loyalty Unyielding by Zlu and Luff

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Tha Fall of Mairon

A/N This is where the story gets serious. We also learn the reasons for loyalty of a certain Maia.

Chapter 4

The Fall of Mairon

* * *

Sauron flew in his bat form above the charred land of Anfauglith, the Gasping Dust, where almost a year ago in the battle of Dagor Bragollach, Morgoth's rivers of magma flowed, breaking the four centuries long Noldor siege as they consumed everything that lay in their path. The streams of liquid fire had left in their wake a lifeless desert of ash and roofless grave of many charred bones. Leaving it behind, the Maia flew then above the mountain peaks and volcanic craters, passing through clouds of smoke that eternally surrounded Angband.

The fortress of Angband... his home since many ages. And yet he had not set his foot within its walls since almost a year now, for he was sent on a mission and lead the troops of Orcs and Balrogs and wolves to lay siege to the tower of Minas Tirith - Finrod's fortress built on the Isle of Tol-sirion that guarded the strategically essential Pass of Sirion as well as other places where the Elves had not yielded after the battle of Sudden Flame. Even now despite having broken their defence and captured the places of resistance, not all work had yet been done. The Isle of Tol Sirion had presently become the Isle of Werewolves but there still were enemies hiding in the nearby woods and mountain passes that had to be tracked down and slain or once and for all banished from the land.

Yet despite all those tasks still to be fulfilled, Sauron, the commander of the troops was coming back now, for the tidings that reached his ears had him concerned. The High King Fingolfin was riding into these lands, headed to challenge lord Melkor. As soon as he had heard of it, Sauron, master of shifting shape, took on a form of a swift bat and made haste back to his master's stronghold.

And yet despite that, it seemed that he had arrived too late for in front of the gates of Angband he spotted clear traces of recent battle. Dropping his winged form and shifting into that of a great wolf instead, Sauron gazed upon the field, trying to learn of what the rocks and craters had witnessed. The earth was cracked and spattered with blood and there were many holes in the ground that bore the familiar shape of Grond, Melkor's great hammer. Those holes were filled with blood as well. The blood that had not even yet cooled down and smelled distinctly of Melkor, Sauron discerned as he put his wolf snout to one of the puddles and sniffed it thrice.

There was the scent of Noldor blood mixed into it as well but on the field of battle he found no bodies. Fingolfin was nowhere to be seen, while the trail of Melkor's blood led back into the fortress and so the wolf made haste for its gates, in his hurry omitting a single feather of a giant eagle that lay behind the rock, between the stones and ash that issued from the great peaks of Thangorodrim.

Thus followed the Maia the trail of his master's blood and all that saw him knew him for who he was and gave way to the great gray wolf that ran across the halls of Angband. As he drew nigh to Melkor's chambers, Sauron changed his shape again and he demanded answers from the Orcs wandering the halls and with most horrid death he threatened them if they would not give their answers clearly. They did and thus knowing now of Fingolfin's demise and of his master's many wounds as well as everything else that had transpired, Sauron turned and directed his steps to his dark lord's chambers.

* * *

When Sauron reached his master's quarters, following the horrid trail of Morgoth's blood, that now stained the dark floors of Angband, he found Melkor spread on the bed, armor stripped from him and what healers Angband could offer bent over his pale figure. The crown of iron was still on Morgoth's head, that rested on the blood-stained sheets heavily.

Melkor was a Vala and yet his body was his spirit's prison ever since in his conquest of the Silmarils he had nearly exhausted his power. Since that day his hands were black and ached without cease. That however seemed today no more than a scratch compared to the wounds that Sauron beheld on Melkor now. Wounds dealt to him by Fingolfin. The Maia knew well that even such grave injury could not kill the Vala but he also knew that Melkor's body, once marred this way would never fully heal and that he would suffer until the end of days. And with that knowledge, Sauron felt the bitterness fill him as he gazed upon his master.

Melkor's eyes fluttered open and fell closed, the light in them dim and the darkness deeper than Sauron had ever seen it. He cried in pain as one of the healers disturbed the wound on his foot and as his eyes stopped on his lieutenants figure in the doorframe, the Vala roared with what was left of his strength. "Nay! I do not need more of this torment ye call healing! Out! Out with all of ye!" and then as the others scrambled to their feet and left, Morgoth's eyes turned to Sauron and Sauron alone and he said a quieter voice, stained with agony, "Come hither, my faithful servant, and shut the door behind the last of them, I require peace and quiet," Melkor commanded with a sigh, shifting carefully to lie in a manner as dignified as his state allowed, with his head resting on the pillows and not the middle of the bed. The movement however, made him gasp in pain, as his heavily bandaged foot changed position. With great torment on his face he finally made it to his destination and rested against the pillows, breathing heavily and blinking quickly, hiding tears of pain, that again started gathering in his eyes.

As Melkor looked up at him from where he lay, so weakened and suffering, Sauron met his eyes calmly and nodded his head in silent greeting, yet when the last of the servants were out of the chamber and his face was still turned towards the door that he just locked, the lieutenant of Melkor let his expression fall, and the grief of having arrived too late cast a shadow on his face for just a brief moment. Few hours, he thought, just few hours earlier and he could have spared his master at least some of this suffering. But then again, this was Melkor's battle and none were to interfere. Perhaps then even if Sauron were there, he would still be unable to change the odds. And yet despite that, the pain and blame were in Maia's heart, as he remained convinced that had he only returned on time, he would have found a way to put a swift end to Fingolfin without his master even realizing his help. After all, he was Sauron the Sorcerer and master of illusions.

That mastery had another side to it too. It let him disguise with ease what was in his heart and mind and so when he turned back to Melkor, his face was once again calm, and his eyes were devoid of the dim flames of anguish that swayed inside them earlier for a brief, unseen moment. He beheld Melkor now, with respect, as always. Although his master's body was now even further maimed and his face was presently also marred by talons of an eagle, he was victorious, no matter how bitter the triumph. "I flew with the swiftest winds back to thee, master, setting out when only I have learnt about the challenge Fingolfin cast thy way." Sauron said and then added, with regret, "Forgive me for not being swift enough to witness how thou crashed the abominable elf under thy mighty foot." He then approached his lord slowly, mentioning not the his lord's many injuries not to cast yet more shadows upon Melkor's triumph.

The Vala however felt no such courtesies were necessary, and he addressed the matter himself, "Ah but I payed for it dearly," he groaned groaned. "I should have simply smashed the Eldar bastard with my hammer where he lay. There was no need to get any closer than that." The Dark Lord of Angband said with regret, adding, "If thou shouldest ever find thyself duelling a Noldor, remember my mistake and learn from it," Melkor advised and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. "Cover me now," he ordered softly.

And Sauron did, without a word draping the covers over the Black Foe of the World and letting himself show none of the hurt that was in his own black heart. "I shall remember and learn then. But thou shouldest now rest, my lord, for thou hast lost enough blood today to weaken even the mightiest of Valar as thyself." So ironic that once the mightiest of the Valar indeed was now trapped in the constraints of this frail shape and had to pay such high a price for his greatness.

Melkor sighed wearily and opened his eyes, where fire seemed to have almost died out and now burnt weakly and wearily as he spoke. "Stay with me, my faithful companion. Guard me and my Silmarils as I sleep," Melkor said and let his eyes fall closed again, the vision of Sauron his last on that day. And through the night and day that followed Sauron kept vigil over him in his sleep.

* * *

Sitting beside his master, guarding him and watching shadows dance on walls, Sauron felt his thoughts wander to things that have been and to things that may come. The Vala, weak, wounded, trapped in a fragile mortal shape was at his mercy now and if only he wanted, there and then, in that very moment, Sauron could have succeeded him. He could have dealt a blow and taken the crown of iron, taken the throne and the dark fortress. He could have become the new dark lord and rule for a long, long time until Melkor's spirit, likely not quite completely destroyed, would regain enough power to oppose him and take back his empire.

Yet Sauron had no such desire. He craved not to rule. The very thought of betrayal had never even crossed his mind as he sat beside the Vala, for his loyalty was not to the throne and the crown but to the one that wore it. To Melkor and none else, now and forever. And as his master slept, rather than plotting treachery, in his mind Sauron recounted the reasons that kept him beside him through all these years.

* * *

Long, long ago, in the beginning of times when the Valar and Maiar gathered in the halls of Eru to sing and together bring a new world to life, he had first set his eyes on Melkor and in Ainulindalë, the great music of Ainur, he had heard him sing. Yet his thoughts at that time had not yet strayed towards Melkor nor would they for a long time to come.

In those days Sauron had another name and another master and he loved order above all things else, thus he had frowned upon the discord that Melkor brought into the Great Music and he had not joined him in his singing, as had some other Maia, among them the spirits of fire. No, rather than falter, he held true to the leading tune of Eru and the Valar and for many years to come Mairon, back then a craftsman of Aulë would never even briefly consider that once in the future their paths would cross.

The world they brought into existence with their voices was but a ghost of a place in those days still and so they had descended upon that mirage of Arda and set to work on it, making it come true according to the plan they saw before them. The Valar went first, each of them reserving for his or her own an aspect of Arda of their liking, one that best suited their nature. Behind their masters followed the Maiar and day after day, year after year diligently they worked, giving shape and form to things.

Mairon was among them from the very first day, as according to the design of Aulë together with other spirits he shaped the surface of the world, crafting minerals and all the things that hid beneath it, as well as those that grew out from Arda's very roots, slowly, tirelessly erecting mighty mountains.

Then one day all of a sudden Melkor appeared. He came down onto the world a mountain himself, one covered by ice and with flames blazing upon its crown, and in all his glory he waded across the oceans seen from far and wide as he set swiftly to ruining things that the others had so far made. Mairon saw him on that day as had many others, yet the mighty form of the Vala impressed him not and he had no love for Melkor or his deeds back then.

It was only later that first doubt arose in Mairon's mind that would later grow and take over his thoughts and heart completely and in the end bring him to Melkor. On that day, he and the other Maiar of Aulë had just completed the work of many weeks, building a great mountain peak where it was meant to be raised. They were pleased with their hard and dutiful work and had sat down and rested when all of a sudden he appeared.

Melkor smote the mighty mountain away with one flick of his wrist and in its place he left a gaping hole that slowly filled with flames and magma and turned into a lake of fire, for he had wished the lake there and not a mighty peak. Then Melkor went away and waned into distance and behind him new mountains grew out from Arda, where he wanted them to grow.

Sitting in Melkor's chambers now, watching the Vala's chest rise and fall with breath he once had not even needed, Sauron remembered that day clearly. He remembered the anger of his fellow Maiar, remembered their disappointment and the lamenting as all the servants of Aulë gathered round the fiery lake and wrought their hands in despair that all their work was in vain and when finally the wailing and complaining ceased, setting to discuss how they would drain the lake of flames and how they would build the mountain anew, identical and in the same spot it stood before according to the plan.

Mairon however, listened to none of their voices on that day. He remembered well how instead, standing to the side from the clamouring lot, he gazed into the distance, beyond the flames right at the splendid ridge of mountains that Melkor left in his wake, so effortlessly and seamlessly right after he casually turned to dust the one mountain they had with so much hardship only just completed.

That was the first time he saw the dark Vala create and not only destroy and even though he knew it not then, a first thin thread had already been spun of the net that would later bind him to Melkor.

As the Maiar of Aulë set to work again, systematically drying the lake of lava and once more covering it with soil, that invisible connection made Mairon's eyes and thoughts turn back and back again to the haughty mountains on the horizon and to the Vala that left them there. And as the lake of flames was no more and on top of flat earth they began anew to build the very same mountain, Mairon found himself hoping he would be given a chance to witness the work of Melkor again one day. Many years would however pass before that chance arrived.

Much had been in those times already said of Melkor's malice and in consequence others of course expected Melkor to come back and once again to destroy the mountain and all feared that day. Yet a week since its second completion, as they all still held their breaths waiting for him to come and crush the peak, no dark Vala came. Neither did Melkor arrive after finally, tired of anxiously waiting, they moved to work on another peak nearby. Then several months later it too was complete and they began to shape a valley between the two mountains, as their master had said. And yet even then the Maiar still looked over their shoulders, expecting Melkor to come.

Little did they all know back then of Melkor and failed to discern yet that consistency was not a part of his nature. Neither of them could at all comprehend that Melkor had long ago forgotten about the mountain and the lake of flames he had put in its place and that perhaps never even noticed the mountain and the Maiar working on it at all, like he in later days would never notice the little things and minor events that played around him, escaping his attention that was directed on things far greater.

Then finally the day came when Mairon once more saw Melkor. The situation was much the same. The great plan brought them to another side of Arda and they chanced upon Melkor there. And so it happened that once more the Vala destroyed their hard work and in its place he set this time glaciers and amongst them a volcano, that dormant at first soon erupted, melting the mountains of ice and flooding everything that the Maiar and the Valar thought to have once and for all completed, swallowing underneath the waves even the trees of Yavanna. Ulmo himself had to come to avert that flood but as everyone fussed over the tragic events of that day, Melkor had long disappeared, turning his attention elsewhere.

Mairon's attention was turned elsewhere that day and on many days that followed as well and even as his hands worked to once more build all that was to be built, many questions already began forming in his mind. He asked himself how was it possible that Melkor alone could with one gesture do all things that took them all so long. How could he, one Ainu, hated and frowned upon, be more effective than all of the Valar and the Maiar working together?

Long had Mairon asked himself those questions as with every day he began to discern clearer the futility of their joint efforts. Their work could have been done easier and at a lesser cost, why then was it not so? Unable to keep that question inside him any longer one day Mairon asked it aloud to Aulë, his master. He had before that made a list of improvements that should be made to facilitate their work and make it more effective. A list of things that were needless and superfluous, and of those that would have to be added to make the building of Arda swifter and much less tiring. He went even as far as to propose small changes to the very masterplan of Aulë - some hills, canyons and mountains would simply more gladly stand in certain places, where the properties of the soil of Arda were more suitable for them to be.

All that Mairon said on that fateful day to Aulë, certain that the Vala would praise him and be glad. Aulë however only frowned and shook his mighty head. He told Mairon that things were meant to be the way they were, that this was the grand design of Eru and that they had to abide it and he let him speak of it no more, advising the Maia not to dwell on such matters.

But Mairon could not hold his thoughts still. Inevitably and ever quicker since that day they raced through his mind and he was now certain that none of the fellow Maiar had ever been or ever would be harbouring in their minds so many troublesome questions and so many unfulfilled ideas. Not to even mention the Valar themselves. Their minds worked in the strangest of ways. They took days or even weeks to come to any decision. And while they would sit in silence in their Ring of Doom, Melkor would ten times over tirelessly change the landscape all around them, rendering whatever the choice they came up with regarding the issue of the rogue Vala and some deed of his they had originally gathered to debate, completely and hopelessly futile, to both Mairon's frustration and bitter amusement.

As more years passed, Mairon could hardly bear it any longer. His only refuge after a day of beholding everyone around waste their potential on ineffective work that they dared not or maybe even thought not to try and question or change, was to go away and find Melkor and from a distance to watch him work. And so even though the Vala himself did not even know of Mairon's existence, the Maia saw Melkor smite and freeze and burn and then from the ashes and ruin raise things greater and more splendid than before, and all that seemingly devoid of any plan at all, completely at random and on a whim - chaos in its purest form.

That chaos was exactly what still kept Mairon away. He was fascinated by Melkor, beyond doubt at that point. He was utterly captivated by the effectiveness and swiftness with which the Vala brought his designs into motion and he cared not what it was that Melkor busied himself doing as long as he could watch it come to life so effortlessly. But despite having the efficiency, Melkor still lacked order and so Mairon could not imagine himself on the Vala's side. Yet still, already longing tore at his heart for despite his better judgement he wished to be a part of this grand and masterful work. Work so full of freedom.

Freedom. That was yet another reason for Mairon's eyes to turn to Melkor. The Vala seemed to be his own master, doing what and how and when he wanted. Setting fire where he pleased and creating - or sometimes if he pleased, ruining - the things he himself had devised. Mairon found himself craving to also give flesh to his ideas, that were many now, almost too many to be contained. Aulë, his master, had had his own joy of unrestricted creation, stepping beyond the frame of Eru's plan and bringing to life a race of Dwarves. And yet despite receiving Eru's blessing, he did not allow his own servants to follow in his footsteps and he forbid them to set out to create the things their own heart desired. And the more time passed the more of frustration gathered in Mairon's heart and the more his thoughts turned to Melkor.

And then suddenly it came, and turned Mairon's world upside down. An idea. A thought. One that began as it always had but turned into an altogether different direction. Melkor lacked order. That was what was still stopping Mairon, still keeping him at bay, for Mairon loved order and firmly believed that order well designed and effected could make things better, swifter, more effective...

And there came that thought. Why then not combine those things? Why not bring order into Melkor's chaos? Melkor would sometimes get distracted and leave things only half-complete, forget them and never come back to them and each of those times Mairon's heart stang when he saw such craft go to waste never finished. The Vala could surely use some planning, timing and better coordination. And Mairon could offer him all that. Finally he had what to offer. And with this thought blazing in his mind and heart brighter and more avidly than any thought before, the Maia at last approached Melkor.

On that day it was, according to his guess confirmed that Melkor had never before been even remotely aware of Mairon's existence, yet as he listened to the Maia and understood that even without the need of being aware, he had acquired a faithful and inspired follower, the Vala was intrigued by Mairon's offer.

And thus had Mairon sworn his loyalty to Melkor and from that time on he worked in secret at his side whenever a chance occured. In this new service Mairon found all that he had wished for and the frustration that had been pent up inside him for many a decade, vanished overnight as if it had never been there.

Melkor, in those times caring not much for what was done as long as things were happening, let the Maia enjoy much freedom at first, letting Mairon join him at work whenever the Maia would please and not even demanding of him yet to leave his master Aulë, whose service - as he no longer felt so helpless and could once more to some extent enjoy - Mairon had not yet resolved to renounce.

Allowed to spend his free time with the dark Vala, Sauron in turn tried to teach Melkor of planning and strategy and to some extent even succeeded. When he had done that however, Melkor - suddenly more concerned with the greater picture than ever before - told Mairon that for the time being, rather than at his side, he needed him among the Valar to know of their movements as he himself ventured forth into another part of Arda to raise mighty strongholds he had long envisioned.

And so the Maia had to stay away from Melkor and spy for his lord, while he still worked for his previous master. The work of a spy however was an unpleasant duty to Mairon and he only endured it for in his mind was at all times the thought of the day when - as he already decided - he would altogether abandon the household of Aulë. The day he would leave Valinor and come to Melkor's side, where wings were not clipped and time was never wasted. But still long decades were to pass before that moment arrived and in those years, when his masters were two but his loyalties were less and less equally shared between them, Mairon learnt to tell lies that all believed, for the Ainur knew not how to lie and neither would they in those days of old ever expect one of their own of any trickery.

Melkor was pleased with Mairon's service and information provided, yet when one day Mairon take it no longer and he showed up at the gates of Melkor's fortress, leaving his previous master openly and thus burning behind himself all the bridges that had once linked him to Valinor, the dark Vala did not question his arrival and simply assigned him a new range of duties and soon after that most generously, made him a commander of the lesser of his strongholds.

All this was new to Mairon at that time but then again, he was no longer Mairon at all. Melkor chose to call him elsewise, deeming a different way more fitting in a new master's service. Sauron he named his servant and thus Sauron learnt all what he needed to learn and soon began taking care of many things in Melkor's stead. Freed of some of his duties meanwhile, the Vala gladly returned to his beloved chaos, trusting the Maia to plan, handle and remember for him all that which Melkor forgot or tired of.

That he had abandoned the work with the sheer substance of Arda that he had done for Aulë and in its stead had taken to helping Melkor with many different and often contradictory matters at once never much bothered Sauron. He understood that each of the Valar had a domain of his own and that for Melkor, who came to Arda only later, not much was left to take. He took the things no other Valar wanted and them he mastered. The searing flames, the cold that chilled to the bones even the most powerful beings. The darkness.

Working for Melkor, Sauron had never planned on or wanted to become a mastermind of evil. It just happened somehow that some of the things they worked on would come to be seen as vile and insidious by the majority of the Ainur. But as long as Sauron could help improve the work of Melkor and all that served him, whatever it was that they happened to work on, Sauron could not care less of what that made him in the eyes of the Valar and the Maiar.

All that he knew was that his work for Melkor brought him satisfaction, that in it he was fulfilled. Ane even if sometimes, or even quite often, Melkor failed to notice his efforts and their effects, being far too consumed his own self and matters far more monumental, that mattered not to Sauron and the Maia was always pleased to serve his lord.

A Maia. Indeed that was what Sauron was. A lesser spirit serving at the side of a demi-god. A servant to one of the Valar once more, yet different Vala this time. Sauron never even tried to do something as absurd as befriend Melkor. Their bond was clearly professional, one of shared goals and ambition. Back in those times they hardly ever talked of things other the schemes Melkor devised and never had a thought appeared in Sauron's mind to name himself Melkor's associate. No, Melkor was the king and he was the servant. He was used to serving another and did not mind it for he had no wish to rule and conquer, merely to be able to be prove useful, to innovate, organize and change things the way he desired. That was in those times all that Sauron wanted and Melkor gave him all that and more. He was a servant yes, but one that had voice in many matters.

But even though he sometimes questioned Melkor's designs, if they could be somehow made better, never would he undermine his authority. It would be illogical to do so. According to Sauron it was much better when the leader was one, for everything ran soother when there was just a single and clear source of authority. Moreover since the day he first saw Melkor, he came to idolize him so much that he was ever since reluctant to treat the Vala with less respect than one treats a lord and master. And so he remained ever loyal and faithful and never in all the ages that passed became overly familiar, even if sometimes he felt that somewhere on the way he and not Melkor was the one who had made this choice and put this line between them.

Then a day came when as their work was at its full swing, once more all of the Valar turned against Melkor. All of them versus one, as always. And against the finesse of a his mind and the ingenuity of his tricks, they used dull, brute force and sent the Vala Tulkas into Utumno. There Melkor was hurled upon his face and captured. Afterwards in chains he was dragged to Valinor while the Valar destroyed everything that he and Sauron had worked on for so long.

The Maia of Melkor watched it from afar, and as he beheld the destruction of everything he and his master had made, the heart of Sauron turned even further away from light. Yet even though all was gone and everything lay in ruin, he had not forfeit hope and as faithfully he awaited his master, he strived to rebuild and restore all that he could reach. He wished for everything to be ready for his master return, not just restored but even more splendid than before. And as he once more united the servants of Melkor, he set to work and eagerly awaited the day when the Vala would return and they would pick anew their work.

That was at least what Sauron craved at first, to build it all anew as he waited. And in the first years after the chaining of Melkor it was indeed the only ambition that drove him. But after a decade passed with no sign from Melkor, and when the initial fever of raising his master empire and army from ash and debris had passed, something changed in the heart of Sauron.

To his own surprise, wherever he gazed places suddenly were empty, work began to seem pointless and after some time began to feel almost as futile as in the times of old when he had another name and another master. Then Sauron realized at last that even though his freedom was now unlimited and his power to shape things to his liking greater than before... it simply was not the same without Melkor.

With that realization, he found to his own amazement that he was missing Melkor. Not his efficiency - for he now had it. Not his freedom - for he abounded in it so that he was almost growing weary of it. No he missed not the opportunities the Vala had to offer. He missed Melkor himself. Missed everything about his, beginning with the passion of his master's creation and destruction, through his volatile outbursts and the manner in which Melkor spoke to the Vala's amusing lack of patience. And as he came to think of it all, suddenly Sauron discovered that in his heart, hidden from even his own awareness all those years, lay feelings that the Maia never suspected himself to possess. And from that day on he knew that if the dark Vala was ever to return, he would have one more reason to stay by Melkor's side.

Sauron however was no fool and even as the strange longing grew inside him, he knew from the very first day that the feeling would have to stay secret and that he would never open his heart to Melkor. The dark Vala knew not of love and neither was he able to ever comprehend it. In the eyes of Melkor it was but an unfamiliar weakness, and sometimes a convenient weapon to use against others. And Sauron wished not for his master to ever see his weakness and turn away from him.

And then one day Melkor returned to Angband. He came back weak and incarnate and in pain, obsessed with three precious gems and seeing nothing and no one beside them. He was suspicious of every shadow then, and in all actions of his servants he saw a plot to overthrow him, a plot to steal the Silmarils away from him. Melkor was scared and paranoid and although he did his best to hide that weakness from all eyes, it did not escape the vigilance of Sauron.

The Maia however knew well where his loyalties lay and he remembered on the day of Melkor's return as well as ages before the exact reasons for joining Melkor. The Vala gave him everything and he was everything to him. Maybe, just maybe one day he could leave Melkor but that day had not yet come and in any other way Sauron could never possibly turn against him.

Melkor however did not know all of that or any of that, for that matter. He had always been so blinded by his own majesty and brilliance that he had taken his servants for granted, convinced that those who joined him were simply unable to resist his splendor and inclined to follow him eternally wherever he went. Thus he had never bothered inquiring and truly understanding the individual nature of the loyalties of his servants. That was also why he had never asked Sauron and instead always assumed the Maia to be just like the others, a brilliant follower and a really valuable asset but one who was attracted to his power and glory.

And in those days upon his return to Angband, Melkor, even though he despised the thought, knew well somewhere in his black heart that he lost much of everything that in his understanding bound Sauron to him in first place and he was afraid that the Maia might use it to his advantage. In thrall of his new obsession, he questioned Sauron's loyalty and the loyalty of all the others and it was difficult to make him see otherwise again for every and each assurance of loyalty was but a cunning ploy to relax his vigilance.

Yet despite his master's weakened state and new obsession all was slowly falling back into its place. It almost seemed like Melkor had never left, until few weeks after his return, just as Sauron was becoming certain that aside from keeping his position he would also be able to keep his own secret from Melkor, that unfortunate incident in the Vala's quarters occurred.

For the Vala it was merely a convenient and at same time pleasant way to put Sauron in his place without harm to his servant. He could not possibly had known what havoc it wrought in the mind and heart of his faithful Maia. He could not know how much will and restraint it took Sauron not to kiss him there and then, in front of that mirror, how much it cost him not to bury his fingers in the Vala's hair and not to embrace him. It was the most refined of tortures that Melkor unwittingly devised on that day to let the Maia so close just to perform a duty and send him away. It took all the mental strength that he had to let Melkor out of his arms on that day.

Despite all that, he managed to keep himself in check of course and would almost get away from Melkor if not for his eyes that betrayed. For Sauron indeed thought in that hour that Melkor had seen right through him and guessed what hid behind the flame of his eyes.

Meanwhile Melkor knew naught of things like affection and thus did not even remotely guess right the hidden intent of his servant. Blinded by his favourite obsession, he took the Maia's concealed desire and longing for what he himself could well understand, for lust, yes, but one for the Silmarils and not him. And of that exactly he had accused his servant. Sauron recalled that moment when wide-eyed and relieved that his master would read him so wrongly, he had grasped onto what seemed back then like a perfect excuse - and one surprisingly offered to him by Melkor himself. On that day Sauron pleaded guilty, admitting that he had craved for the Silmarils. He had not known back then that this admission would likely cause more harm than telling the truth would.

But then, even after all was over and after weeks of turmoil and suspicion Melkor at last forgave Sauron for his transgression and too afraid to try his lieutenant again, he resigned from ever summoning him into his quarters again, the Maia never told him the truth. And he never would. He was just too afraid to try.

So passed the time. Years turned to decades and those into centuries. Fëanor arrived at the gates of Angband and was slain, Men awoke, Moon and Sun, so hateful to Melkor arose into the skies and once more cast light into darkness. Gondolin was built, Dagor Bragollach came and passed, the siege was broken and after all these years Sauron still was at his side, and never would he leave.

Sitting there in the dimly lit darkness, beside his lord, Sauron knew it to be true. And Melkor's tired eyes remained shut, only the four walls around them could see the frown of Sauron's thick dark eyebrows and the no longer concealed worry inside the fiery eyes of the Maia. And only the shadows cast by the flickering candlelight and the undying glow of the Silmarils embedded in the crown of iron ever saw the master craftsman gently brush a lock of soft fiery hair back behind lord Melkor's pointy ear.

Many times in the hours that came the dark Vala would toss and turn in unrest and many times would Sauron silently tuck the silks back around him and he would at all times keep a silent vigil over his lord.

* * *

Finally Melkor stirred from his sleep with a pained moan, as he shifted and his whole being was pierced with dull pain. The Vala brought a hand to his eyes and groaned some more at the touch. Then he opened his eyes and stared in front of himself, looking weary and hurt and devoid of his usual malevolent energy. Only when Sauron came into focus, did Melkor after a moment of surprise regain some of his usual self-important demeanour, suppressing the pain and weariness. He smiled weakly, but with humor. "Truly, Sauron, thou art my greatest ally. I should have never doubted thee and never will again," he promised solemnly. He knew that had Sauron wished, he could have stolen all of the Silmarils right there and left, but he was still present here, and so, Morgoth assumed - judging by the light still coming from his crown - were the jewels. He was most pleased with Sauron, which eased his suffering and lifted his spirit. "Now thou shalt rest. On thy way call my servants. I require many things now that I have rested," Morgoth said no more, his voice becoming husky, his throat dry.

"Aye, my lord, thou however requirest a drink to quench thy thirst before that," Sauron spoke and in an ornate cup he passed to his lord the water that had been brought here earlier by his master's servants. With the cup outstretched to Melkor, Sauron stood still. He would not be surprised if eternally suspicious Melkor rejected the offer, thinking the water mixed with poison but the Vala was not a stranger to logic and logic told Melkor now that Sauron had had more than enough chances before to harm him in his sleep instead of waiting for him to wake and drink and so the cup changed hands with no words spoken.

Melkor held the cup in his black hand struggling to restrain the trembling of his limb or the weakness that overcame him as he shifted into a slightly more upright position. In the end he pressed the cup to his lips and drank until it was empty. Then he just dropped the cup on the bed, resting his arm beside it. "Sauron..." Melkor hesitated. He intended to ask the Maia to visit him as long as he was bedridden, but even as he began voicing his request, he reconsidered the way how he was going to put it. "I want thee to command Angband and all my other forces in my stead, until my strength returns. And report to me directly every day, starting tomorrow," he said in a tone most official and then his look and voice softened and his eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit "But first rest well and long, until thou art recovered from thy vigil."

And at that Sauron bowed his head, a faintest of smiles on his lips, for overseeing of the fortress of Angband and commanding the forces of Morgoth since times immemorial ran in his dark blood like the fire of the forge and the music of creation. The commander of Angband he had been appointed long ago and ever since that time, even when Melkor came to dwell in the stronghold himself, seeing to its matters and keeping order within its walls had always continued to be some of Sauron's primary duties. And after almost a whole year spent away from this place now, Melkor's chief lieutenant was more than content to return to those duties, "I shall then do as thou wilt, my lord, and gladly so, for thou needest not to strain thyself in the days to come and it will be my honour to take off some burden of thy shoulders as I reacquaint myself with the fortress after my time away." Sauron stated, and knew at once that the task at hand was to be a pleasant one. He had missed these familiar walls and halls and the furnaces. But most of all he had missed his smithy and the presence of his lord.

With that thought he peered at Melkor again and lamented in his spirit the hapless state his master was now in but mentioned of it not a word. "As to my work in the south, my lord, it is now virtually complete and may carry on without me for now as the lands lost during the time of siege are once again under thy command. Recover now, as I depart to do thy bidding." Having reported of his recent ventures briefly, Sauron bowed his head once more and departed from Melkor's chambers, leaving the Vala to recover.

Chapter End Notes

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Your Zlu and Luff

And now have our illustration of Sauron/Mairon, we've always imagined he'd be a rather big guy, since he was a craftsman and a smith, though of course being a Maia he can look any way he wants.


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