Eternal Flame by elennalore

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Eternal Flame

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Mairon paused before the double doors of the throne room for a moment, listening. He could hear the subdued sounds of battle still going on outside, but the room that lay behind the doors was completely silent. All the corridors were deserted. Even here, guards had left their posts, and Mairon wondered briefly if they had fled or been sent away.

Without warning, the earth shook violently, and stones and plaster fell from the corridor roof behind him. Perhaps this was what finally made him move and push the thick wooden doors open. He stepped into the throne room, wearing his dark armour but not the helmet. A gust of Melkor’s energy hit him, blowing through his copper hair. He was fairly certain that the surge of anger was not meant for him; Melkor could hardly control himself anymore.

“My lord!” Mairon cried out and hurried to kneel before the throne. His tousled hair fell on his face as he bowed down. When he peeked from behind his mane, Melkor’s face was obscured in deep shadow, and he could not be certain of his expression. Melkor had removed his Silmaril crown; it rested on his lap, the only beacon of light in the otherwise dark room. The skin of Melkor’s hands looked too pale in the cold light of the remaining two gems.

The huge throne room felt awfully silent without the presence of the usual court. There were only chains left in a corner where prisoners had been crouching only a couple of days ago. It had become a sad and forlorn place. Not even the sounds of combat could reach inside the thick walls of the room.

“Lord Melkor!” he said, ready for anything. They were going to lose the battle; it was only a matter of time. He knew he should have given the report from the battlefield, but he had no words left.

“I didn’t call you here for that, my precious flame.”

Melkor’s voice was surprisingly gentle. Mairon dared to raise his head.

“Come closer. I wanted to see you one more time before they come.”

He could hear the pain in Melkor’s voice, but the anger was gone. He must have accepted his fate. Mairon’s legs were trembling as he stood up, and he realized that he was exhausted. He had done everything he could to defend Melkor’s realm, but it had not been enough.

“Forgive me, lord. I have failed you.”

“Hush, you have done everything you could. There are powers bigger than you at work here.”

“My lord,” Mairon repeated as he slowly approached the throne; it came out as a squeak.

“Please, say my name. I want to hear you say my name.”

“Melkor,” he whispered. It was the name of his beloved, and it held power, but it couldn’t remove fear and pain that burned inside his heart. He had to close his eyes for a moment.

“Come to me, my little flame.”

Mairon collapsed at his master’s feet. His eyes filled with sudden tears, and he lowered his head in shame. He could feel Melkor’s approval, however, and it soothed him. He wanted to lay his head in Melkor’s lap, but the bright crown had occupied the space.

Melkor understood what he wanted. He took the crown in his hands, and it was an exquisite work, even though it held those cursed gems – only pain they had given to his lord.

“I wonder what would have changed if I had just given this crown away.” A melancholy smile briefly appeared on Melkor’s lips.

“They would not have left us in peace anyway,” Mairon said, like a good adviser would. “It is too late for that.”

His heart ached as the last glimmer of hope died in Melkor’s dark eyes.

“I think you are right,” Melkor said at last. With slow, deliberate movements he put the crown back on his head. Mairon could only imagine its heaviness. “Well, I want to face them like the king I truly am.”

Mairon rested his head on Melkor’s thighs, eyes closed. Melkor’s power was constantly radiating from his fana, nurturing and shaping him. Mairon was suddenly terrified of losing him. What was he without his lord? Just an empty shell.

Again, it was like Melkor knew his most private thoughts.

“Don’t be afraid, my little one.” A gentle hand continued to brush his long hair until Mairon felt calm again.

“You are precious to me,” Melkor said after a while. His voice was firm, but a bit subdued, as if he were holding back some emotion. “For a long time, I searched for Flame Imperishable, but when I first laid my eyes on your beauty, my heart told me that my search was over.”

Mairon sniffed. He felt Melkor’s pain more clearly than ever before.

“And that’s why I must set you free now. You are my eternal flame; they will not capture you. Go now, there is still a little time. It will comfort me to know that you will stay in this world even when I’m gone.”

In horror, Mairon straightened himself. “I won’t leave without you! You can’t ask me this! Come, my lord, we can still escape the host of the Valar together.”

Melkor shook his head sadly. “No. It’s too late for me. My powers are within this land, but the land itself is dying. Afterwards, there will only be ruin.”

Mairon’s heart was pounding inside his ribcage. He felt miserable. “Please, Melkor. Not this.”

Those strong arms pulled him into an embrace, keeping his trembling body steady. “Yes. It’s the only way. It will ease my pain to know that you are safe. Mairon, my Mairon. Say that you will go now and save yourself. This is my last command.”

Mairon pressed his cheek against Melkor’s chest, collecting his strength before answering. Finally, he said the bitter words. “I will go, my lord. Melkor.”

It was the hardest thing he had done in his life to stand up and leave Melkor alone in the throne room. He walked along the endless corridors for a while, numb with shock. Then he heard a powerful explosion as if someone had broken the main gate. He started running.

* * * * *

Mairon knelt in front of Eönwë and felt panic rising inside him. He should not be there! Fear and uncertainty had led him there; he had let himself forget Melkor’s last command. He hung his head in shame, and of course Eönwë misread the signs of repentance.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” Eönwë said, his white wings rosy in the light of the dawn. “I will speak for you in front of Manwë. I’m sure that he will be lenient.”

Mairon rose abruptly, making Eönwë take a step back. He knew he was standing at the crossroads of his life, but hadn’t the decision already been made? How could he have forgotten it? It was going to be a lonely path, but it was the one Melkor had wanted him to take. Mairon was going to be his light in the world, and he was going to burn bright.

He started running and didn’t stop for a very long time.