Memories of Starlight by Levade

Chapter 2 Pet

Featuring Gothmog. 

If you've never read DragonConfused's story "The Littlest Balrog", then go read it. It's old but one of the most unique looks at Melkor and "his boys" ever written. This might make sense without reading it, but if dark humor is your cuppa, go. Read.

He had wanted one forever. But Melkor had refused after the debacle with Maedhros, and so Gothmog had to content himself with imagining a pet.

There wasn't much to choose from in Angband. Dragons weren't fun. They hoarded their toys and confused everyone with word games. Orcs were fun and usually willing to do whatever he wanted, but never lived long.

They were tasty.

These days his brothers were more interested in seeing who could crack a whip loudest or send the stalactites crashing down to kill as many thralls as possible. Gothmog missed the egg frying contests they had held as younglings. He bet he could fry up an entire flock of chickens now!

It was great fun to go out and stomp elves. They reminded him of lightning bugs, all bright and glowy as they ran around screaming. But Melkor hated them and had forbade Gothmog to keep even a small one as a pet. He'd been told, Thralls are not pets. You cannot take them out and play with them, Gomig. Leave Melkor's thralls alone!

As if Maedhros' escape was his fault.

Puffing a cloud of smoke, Gothmog stomped off to find his weapons. Let the others have their stupid whips. He wanted something different. Something better than a sword (hadn't done Fingon much good, had it) and had gotten an idea from that last battle. Down to the cavern where he and his brothers wrestled, past the thralls, to his room.

Chuckling darkly as he imagined what he could do, Gothmog turned the spear in his hands. It had potential! He could spear an entire platoon and then fling them back at their own forces! Pretending to be surrounded, Gothmog crouched and bared his fangs, roaring. He thrust the spear and spun, leaping around the room.

"GOTHMOG!"

Startled, the balrog stumbled and barely kept from impaling himself. He quickly shoved the spear behind him and turned his best beastly scowl to Melkor.

"You're going to kill yourself with that thing, Gomig." Melkor shook his head in exasperation. "Put it away and join your brothers." The dark lord's smile was awful and gave the balrog delightful shivers. "We've found Gondolin. We attack tonight."

A roar of glee and Gothmog ran to join his brothers, shoving past the dragons and carelessly crushing a company of orcs. The spear was tossed aside, forgotten.

At last, Gondolin would fall.