melkor and sauron
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18. What is the hardest name or word for you to pronounce?
I think my pronunciation is mostly adequate and I think the words are fun to say (though I have no Sindarin or Quenya (or other) speakers to correct me), but I don't think I say Arnoediad correctly, for one; I change my pronunciation every time. And non-Silmarillion, but I can't for the life of me pronounce half of what Treebeard says
23. Do you have pity for Melkor?
In the beginning, yes - maybe Ilúvatar has poor taste in music, and who made him conductor anyway? And I oppose incarceration, so that being Melkor's punishment, ehh not a fan.... But my sympathy wanes by the time he's smashing and uprooting everything anyone else makes, and when it gets to like. mass enslavement and torture, definitely no pity. I guess I disagree with how Ilúvatar and the Valar respond to him, and his original grievances I can respect, but his methods and goals I can't. challenge authority? yes. seek to become the new authority yourself, doing enormous amounts of harm along the way? no.
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Elrond looked down at the little Vala that slowly had fallen asleep still sitting on the floor.
He carefully picked the child up surprised that by the coldness coming from him and began searching for someone who could tell him were Melkors rooms were, and after some time he had found it with some help from a Maia.
He was pleasantly surprised as he found out that it was close to the rooms he had been given.
“I´m not sleepy,” Melkor mumbled as he sleepily opened his eyes as Elrond laid him down on his bed.
“It´s dark outside you should sleep, I will also go to sleep now,” Elrond informed as he pulled the curtains down so the room became darker.
Melkor only nodded slightly, “do you want me to find you some nightclothes?” Elrond asked as he sat down beside Melkor tugging the blanket around him.
“Do you want me to sing then?”
“You can’t sing…”
“No, you right, I´m not an Ainur it wouldn´t be pretty to your standards.” Elrond said and stroked Melkors hair back from his face.
Elrond sat awkwardly at the table with Manwe, Varda and Melkor all of them eating.
“I didn’t know that Ainur needed to eat,” he said as he tried to start a conversation.
“Well if we spend long time in a body we need both food and sleep, otherwise we only eat for the taste and sleep because of the peace,” Manwe answered and Elrond saw how mush he looked like Melkor.
They had the same eyes Manwes only a bit darker, the same greyish skin color and the same long curly hair with a hint of blue, Manwes only white and Melkors black, not to mention the creepy soft voice both of the brothers had.
“Well what do you want to do today?” Varda asked looking at Melkor and Elrond that now also looked at each other, “I don´t wanna spend my day with an elf!” Melkor said looking at Varda as if she had just stabbed him.
“He has a name!” Varda said with sharp voice, “and his going to take care of you!”
“Because father wanted to give you another chance!”
“He could take care of me himself if he wanted! His an old asshole!”
“Aren’t there a game you want to play or something?” Elrond asked Melkor who looked out over one of the many gardens the palace had, this one was more private thought.
“No,” Melkor said just looking down at the table they were sitting at.
After a big fight between Varda, Manwe and Melkor they had promised him some cake as long that he spend the day with Elrond.
“What about reading?” Elrond asked, “I could read for you?”
“Books are for nerds.”
“Hide and seek?”
“I don´t wanna move.”
At that the small Vala looked up with a big smile on his face, “Yes!” He said excited and jumped off his chair and began tugging on Elronds sleeve, “come on elf! Hurry!”
Elrond chuckled at the unexcepted reaction from the little Vala and was about to get the paper but first, “we can get the paper and paint when you ask nicely.”
Melkor looked up at him as if he had grown a second head, then, “Master elf, lets go get the paper… please?” He asked as he made puppy eyes.
Elrond was surprised that he actually asked and smiled down at the little Vala now looking up at him with puppy eyes, “let´s go get the paper.”
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Eru to Melkor in the timeless halls: Why can't tou just harmonize with the musik like you siblings!?
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Okay, well, my sketching app crashed, so you’ll have to make do with this for the time being! I’ll fix it in time for barricade day (I hope)
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Tonight There Is Rest
Tonight, Melkor, Lord of Darkness, holds a bright flame in his grasp, and he breathes something powerful into his ear. Something sacred. Something holy. It is said in but a heavy whisper, and it is answered when Marion pulls Melkor's right arm up and into his chest.
Pure fluffy prose of Melkor and Marion enjoying some well needed rest, and being in love. Written all fancy for no reason.
Read on AO3 under domestic_iliad or read below.
Tonight Marion rests well, grasped in heavy arms the weight of mountains. Tonight Melkor's mighty chest rises up and presses into Marion's back, his breaths deep and steady; a sound that consumes the silence. A sound of rest. Of ease. The only other sound that of a fireplace, cracking rhythmically behind them. A sound that is mere background to the music of Melkor's breath. For it is music, sweet and enrapturing, to Marion. Just the mere breath holds him as equally as the arms. His hand- those blackened hands- rests one on Marion's stomach, and the other lazily against the bed, slack in front of his Maia, his arm caught under his side. His precious Maia is curled up in front of him, his back pressed as firmly into the Vala as he can be without becoming something incorporeal- to be absorbed into Melkor as one is to be surrounded completely by darkness. Could he be any closer, there is no doubt to Melkor that he would chose to be. That he would be consumed without thought, without hesitation. That his Maia would crawl inside his chest and live within his heart if it were at all possible. That he would carve out a home there. But the way Melkor holds him- has he not already done so? Does he not already live there?
Tonight, Melkor, Lord of Darkness, holds a bright flame in his grasp, and he breathes something powerful into his ear. Something sacred. Something holy. It is said in but a heavy whisper, and it is answered when Marion pulls Melkor's right arm up and into his chest, and his heart speaks for him words that he cannot muster. For all of its power, all of its holiness, it is not enough. They are words that are too weak in his mouth, no matter the language. Words that are not strong enough, not deep enough, not powerful enough. For no language can speak of his devotion, of his worship, of anything that he wishes to convey to his Master. They are too weak when he means them so deeply. The words have never been enough, and tonight they don't come close enough to even mutter. Tonight his heart sings for him a song that they share, and their hearts sing it in harmony. Melkor's dark hand remains over Marion's heart, and its thump under his palm is more beautiful that any music Eru, the Valar, or even Melkor himself could make. It is more perfect than any creation before or after it; and it speaks more powerfully than any words either of them could put together.
Tonight Marion holds his hand over Melkor's, and while it is smaller its grip is firm enough to make Melkor pull in even closer, press in even harder. He is desperate to hold, to have, and to never release. In this moment he cups the Vala's hand in his as if they are melded together, and he breathes at ease with his palm to his chest. He is gentle with the burnt hand; gentle- but unwavering in pressure. Here, there is flesh that touches flesh, corporeal and present, and Marion finds comfort in knowing that to Melkor he belongs; in all times, over all spans of distance, but right now here, laying in his hold. He has carved a home in this bed and this melody sings of his place. It sings of his complete and total devotion, of his respect, his passion, his worship, and his adoration. Tonight he feels the rise and fall of Melkor's mighty chest behind him. He feels the sacred song beat into him. He feels the hold of great mountains. He feels the heat of charred hands that touch only him uncovered. And he finds respite in knowing that as much as he is Melkor's- Melkor is his as well. And in this moment, nothing can part them. Their souls meld together in the chill of the darkness and the heat of the forge- melt into a comfortable warmth that steadies them both. In this moment their hearts sing one melody, of words whispered and words unspoken.
Tonight Melkor lifts a lazy hand up to hold Marion tigher, and still it is not tight enough. It is not close enough. It is never close enough. But Marion sings with him beneath the crackling of burning logs, under the light scent of wood and warmth, and that is enough. They sing together something that causes even Melkor, in all his disdain, in all of his power and pride, to thank Eru for the music that sung into creation Marion, that he was granted the chance to hear a music that made him bend to it. That he might listen to the perfection of Marion's heartbeat, and hold him tight enough that they could become one, with but little more pulling. To the mighty Vala, Marion is the most beautiful thing ever created, and Melkor's song speaks that none may ever come close to comparing to him. It pounds into their embrace that Marion is above all servants, is above all of Angband, is above everything. It pounds into his Maia that Melkor will only ever hold him, that there is nothing, no-one else, that would ever be worth Melkor's embrace. It is a song that is stronger than any words he could ever offer the flame. And yet, it is still not strong enough. But Melkor could come up with no stronger song. He could not create a more powerful music than his heart beating in rhythm with Marion's.
Tonight, they are tranquil in their embrace. Tonight the Maia rests in Melkor's hold, his Lord unfaltering in his grip. He lulls to sleep feeling as if there is nothing else in all of Arda- in all of Ea- but Melkor and himself, locked in an eternal hold, his heart beating in Melkor's palm, Melkor's beating against his back. Melkor finds his own kind of rest watching his flame breath lightly under his hold, safe, and warm. He needs not the sleep, but he will hold Marion through the night, and listen to his song far past Marion being able to hear it. He will listen as it relaxes, as it rises, as it falls, as Irmo graces his Maia with dreams.
They have this moment. Respite. A breath. Let them have this. Let them indulge in the music of beating hearts. Of shared touches. Of closeness.
For tomorrow, Melkor will leave his Maia's side. Tomorrow Marion will worry, and he will only worry more as the hours stretch in to days. He will pace the halls until his footsteps wear a groove into the floor. Tomorrow he will get news, late into the night, that Melkor stands trial in Valinor. He will get news that his master has been imprisoned in the Halls of Mandos, and he will let out a scream that shakes all of Angband. Tomorrow will be the start of waiting, patiently, for Melkor's return. For a chance to free him. And he will be loyal, and he will do his Lord's work. But there will be no mountain to press into, no charred hands to hold, no shared melody to sing him to sleep. The Maia will be alone in his bed and lost. He will be full of sorrow and anger. He will be afraid and restless, and sleep will not come. He will be missing a part of him and he will find no true rest.
But tonight, they are clueless in the absence to come.
Tonight gives something for them to hold onto. Tonight, they are safe in Angband, and their hearts beat together. Tonight, their breath rise and fall in pace with each other. Tonight Melkor watches over Marion, his Marion, his flame Imperishable, and he feels a beautiful thing that no Valar could ever hope to witness. The song of Marion's heart underneath his fingertips. Tonight, there is respite. There is rest. And there is Marion, and Melkor, in an embrace stronger than anything in Arda. Tonight, there is rest. Let them have this. For it will be long until Melkor hold Marion again. It will be long until they sing the sweet music.
But tonight, they sing and they rest.
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Takes two to tango~
no there's no context or reasoning behind this
I saw a thing on pinterest, I had a Mighty Need, I drew.
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can i post it or is it illegal
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I cracked the code!!!
The reason Morgoth always, always loses no matter what isn’t that Eru made the world too resilient for him to damage and break - every single particle of matter in the setting has some of Melkor’s Will behind and inside it - the reason is that Morgoth’s evil DECAYS AT A FASTER RATE THAN THE REST OF THE WORLD. The world never heals from the evils he and his agents introduce, they just crumble faster than the norm is in Arda Marred. People killed are replaced by others and in time their descendants forget them. Ruined lands are abandoned for new ones until they recover or are removed entirely. Orcs are a regional threat when they have a powerful will driving them; otherwise they (a ruined and stumped form of life) seem mostly capable of being raiders, which, fair enough, it isn’t exactly a picnic to be attacked by a warband in the middle of the night, but it isn’t exactly a unified army intent on conquest either. Humans are corruptible, but also tend to corrupt things on their own - how long does it take after Sauron’s fall for the various evil cults he inspired to turn on eachother? Numenor lasted for millennia, but the more they turned to evil the quicker the rot started setting in (I don’t think Eru destroyed them because they set foot on Aman, but rather because the Valar weren’t doing their jobs as rulers of the World). Saruman likewise spirals out of control and ends up murdered by his own henchman, with Isengard, Rohan, Dunland and the Shire all recovering in a generation or two.
Basically, this is what I think it means that Morgoth and Evil are self-defeating in the Tolkien-verse.
EDIT this is basically Eru and Morgoth’s interactions
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reading the silmarillion like christ melkor needs some therapy
Manwë stumbled into Melkors room with a glaced looked: Ohh melkor, I need youuu.
Melkor going pale with slight fear: No you need jesus. Thats who you need.
“What is the letter about Ada?”
Elrond looked surprised up at Elladan from the letter king Manwe had sent.
He had forgotten he wasn’t alone in the dinner room.
“Erm… I… it´s… I need to talk with your mother for a moment.”
“What is it about!?” Celebrian asked a little alarmed as Elrond gave her the letter.
Celebrian looked horrified up at him, “are you going?”
“The Valar are asking me to go…”
“But it isn´t an order.”
“No… let me think over it.”
“My lord and lady are happy you would come, it means a lot to them,” Eonwe started as he showed him a little around, “you must understand they want the best for him as he is they brother after all.”
“I understand fully, I would do the same if it was my brother.”
After some time Eonwe showed the rooms Elrond would stay in, “you would probly like to know that at the moment Melkor is in the form of a child, as it was the only way we could stop him from destroying everything.”
“So HE is a child? And you want me to take care of him?”
“Yes… he still have a little power left but not enough to course harm on anyone if that´s worrying you,”
“No it´s fine I guess, when will I meet him!”
“If you wouldn’t mind this afternoon?”
Melkor tried to look as big as he could as he stood on his toes and had crossed his arms while trying to meet Tulkas eyes with a glare.
Yet it didn’t help mush as the size different was even bigger then usual.
“Melkor get down from the table,” Varda said as she walked into the room and saw Melkor standing on a table glaring at Tulkas who glared back.
The room that for just five minutes ago had looked majestic was now was a big mess of broken glass and other furniture that has been destroyed.
“Tulkas I told you to look after him, not to destroy the room!”
Tulkas looked at her a bit hurt, “his the one who threw a vase at me!”
“And then you destroyed the room!” Melkor hissed.
“He hide under a table and laughet at me!”
“He tried to throw me against a wall!”
“Both of you are acting like children,” she mumbled and with a move from her hand the room begun to clean itself up.
Elrond looked down at the little boy who had crossed his arms and pushed his chest out to look big and scary.
He had black long curls with a hint of blue.
His eyes were an icy blue almost white color and what was supposed to be white was black.
“I-I´m sorry what?” Elrond looked down at the little boy lost for words, “I´m ugly? Has anyone ever told you it´s rude to say that kind of things?”
“Like I care, most people would be happy I was honest!” He snapped as he sat off to run around a corner.
Right before he disappeared a tall muscular man with tan skin and shoulder length blond hair grabbed the boy and began walking back to Elrond uncaring that the child kicked and hit him as hard as he could.
“You shouldn’t let him speak like that to you!” He said and let go of the boy who landed with a huff.
“It´s fine really,” Elrond said smiling at the boy, “my name is Elrond, nice to meet you.”
“Not nice to meet you and I don’t care!” The boy said still siting on the ground now looking down on the floor.
“Melkor!” The other man said in a harsh toon.
“His an elf I don’t care about a stupid elf and I never will!” Melkor mumbled.
The other man looked as if he were ready to say something to the little Vala but Elrond lifted his hand, “if you would not mind, I think I can handle this?”
“You should keep you eyes open elf his going to stab you in the back if you don’t!” He said and begun walking away.
After some time Melkor whispered, “I have never stabbed someone in the back!”
Elrond sighed and sat down on the floor before Melkor.
As he looked out a window in the hallway, Melkor looked up at him, “why would you even come here!?” He said trying to look angry, but Elrond still saw the glint of curiosity in his eyes.
“Because I don’t believe in evil,” Elrond said with a smile and was answered with a small oh.
“I also believe in second chances.”
Melkor looked him in the eyes at that and Elrond shuddered a little as he saw his eyes again, “you´re completely lost,” the small Vala mumbled.
Hope you all like the first chapter of my Elrond and Melkor AU have a good day/night and take care♡♡♡
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I'm regrettably in my angbang feelings once more and thinking. How could Melkor not have loved Mairon? Imagine basically the entirety of the known world has shunned and rejected you for, as you see it, simply expressing your vast creative powers in the only way you are able. Everything you do or make is deemed evil and spiteful and you yourself are relegated to the status of Universal Enemy, even though you are quite literally just doing what you're made for. You begin to see yourself in that way--everyone else is in agreement that you're a horrible nuisance at best and a mindlessly hateful monster at worst, so they must have some sort of point. Something about you, you're not sure what, is simply Bad and Wrong.
Faced with all this, it is easy to become convinced that no one could ever truly love you. Your own brother doesn't seem capable of it, and your pursuits of a spouse have been laughably fruitless. You begin to think, perhaps the punishment for your Badness and your Wrongness is to simply never be loved in the way you crave--that sort of despair could eat you up. But you are stubborn and willful, so you hide this pain behind a terrible, snarling mask and get back to work.
But then, by chance, you meet a Maia--someone else's servant, who you can't help but be instantly drawn towards. At first, you think there's no hope for this one-sided infatuation; he's wholeheartedly devoted to his work and barely acknowledges you, but this only fascinates you further. You decide to give courtship a try and, against all odds, he seems to develop an interest in you. In fact, he appears glad when you come to see him, and begins to set his work aside to spend time with you. He lights up when he sees you, and listens earnestly when you talk. He is not afraid of your awful mask, and eventually, you take it off. You expect him to shrink away from the truth of your hideous, pathetic nature, but he seems all the more endeared. As the days pass, he stands closer and closer to you while you talk.
You are madly in love. Your new companion is beautiful, not like the cold distant beauty of Varda, but like the brilliant red fires of the forge. He is clever and devoted and understanding. No one has ever understood you before. Eventually you realize you can't bear to be away from him, and so you ask him warily if he will come home with you and be your partner in all things. To your surprise, he eagerly agrees. He will forsake Paradise for you.
And that could be the end--you would have been content to simply have him as your mate, and asked nothing else of him. But he is quick to prove himself worthy of more. He is cunning, trustworthy, and most importantly, unfailingly loyal to you and you alone. He would do anything you asked of him. He becomes your most valuable asset and your most ardent defender. You love him all the more deeply for it as the world grows ever more hostile towards you. His love is a reprieve from your pain and your fear; his fierce devotion is a balm to your harried soul.
Even when you are gone, he never fails in his devotion. He raizes civilizations in your name. How could you not love him?
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Introductory Snippets with links to introduction to the AU
(second author’s note at the end!)
Feel free to ask any questions! I know this is pretty short but I have just been so excited about starting!
(First author’s note: I haven’t yet gone into much detail about why Maedhros is like this but his actual time in Angband wasn’t too different than in my main verse which is going to add yet another layer of difficulty for those attempting to discover who he is because who he is is still deeply associated with agony and humiliation. I talk about in more detail on this post but in Angband, dissociation to this degree is considered a mercy and not one Maedhros has been allowed very often. And I will explore in more detail exactly what’s going on as I continue. Feel free to ask questions!)
I am also going to intersperse with scenes of Maedhros in Angband as the changes are undergone and for many of them he’s still an angry smartass so..
Warnings: dehumanization, implied body horror, potential claustrophobia, my possibly poor attempts to write Ainur other than Melkor and his ilk (I haven’t for so long!)
oh! very brief implication of a canonical instance of animal cruelty. the author’s note at the end explains it without detail too.
(I hope this is ok! I’m pretty nervous but I wanted to have the first one up. Thank you so much to @aronoiiel for preview reading and @pepperonyscience I believe you said you wanted to be tagged!)
Elegant hands folded upon the table came into focus as Manwë was pulled out of his reverie by a presence in the doorway. He waited for a moment without speaking, expecting his visitor to break the silence first. When Eönwë did not, the king raised his eyes, concerned by what he saw.
“Yes?” A verbal prompting was clearly needed. Eönwë appeared rather disgruntled.
“The gift thy brother spoke of.” His lieutenant was one of the few who still referred to Melkor as such, refusing of course to use the dark Vala’s original name but refraining from the titles given by the Eldar.
“What of it?”
“I took it upon myself to ensure you were being handed nothing volatile.” Eönwë‘s expression was grave. Manwë maintained his air of polite interest though from the moment Melkor had mentioned the gift he had felt the rare pull of dread fester in the physical form he wore. He did not find it pleasing to have to prompt the Maia again but could nonetheless understand Eönwë’s hesitance.
“It still breathes.”
Manwë’s gaze narrowed to an eagle-like intensity, searching his lieutenant’s eyes for more.
Eönwë did not falter though what he spoke of next was clearly distasteful to him.
“I suspected a living gift. Or that had been once alive. It was the former.” He beckons the king forward and Manwë stands, follows him into the adjoining room, hands pressed together in front of him, expression neutral.
“We have not yet removed it from its restraints, I do not know how injured they are,” Eönwë continued as he gestured to a large, iron chest that lay in the center, flanked by two sober looking guards.
The gift appeared to be Eldar and he would have been content calling it such had it not sported a pair of folded wings, tucked carefully around the bare form. Even in the dim light, Manwë could see the fading tracks of rust marring both skin and feather. King and councilor both looked into the chest without moving.
Eönwë finally breaks the silence. “We believe it to be unconscious, possibly the result of a draught. They are certainly weak enough to be susceptible. What is it you will do with it, My Lord?” The Lieutenant’s own feathers appeared ruffled as something akin to scorn stung his voice, “Thy brother said that he was gifting thee a pet.” At this last word, the almost monotonous voice he favored when giving reports lilted and all present heard the soft fury, “Perhaps He has merely been away from Home for too long a period but we do not typically treat my kin as prized animals or trophies.” Eönwë stopped here, conscious of the several lines he had crossed as he prepared for a rebuke from Manwë, however gentle it was likely to be.
But it never came. Indeed, Manwë did not appear to have taken in the Maia’s words. Eönwë waited for nearly two minutes before his lord met his eyes and gave a nod of ascent. The lieutenant understood that he was to give the next set of orders, Manwë presumably lost in both thought and memories of the first wars and what he had lost to Melkor then.
“Bring a healer to stand by while we remove them from their chains. If these injuries are at all similar to what I have seen Him inflict on other winged creatures, including my own kin, there is likely damage that will require careful handling. Assuming it is not already irreversible.”
(author’s note: In earlier versions of Silm, Melkor takes several of Manwë’s Maiar, including eagles to torture and experiment on. I also do headcanon that there are hundreds of Maiar and half Maiar of Manwë that have formed since the First Music. These are the children of the original Maiar who take more grounded forms though there are a few rare half Maiar half elven beings who serve or live at the palace. Not all of his Maiar necessarily serve him, some merely maintain a connection to the King without necessarily taking an active role in his court. So this, combined with layers of Melkor’s own power, is why Manwë isn’t sure exactly what he has been given)
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I just love the idea of Melkor wreaking havoc upon Middle Earth, while leaving Sauron to literally run everything in Angband and clean up his mess.
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Eru looking Melkor in the eyes: ...
Melkor nervously: What are you looking at Atar?
Eru: A mistake.
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Melkor: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so...
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Manwe: If you had to choose between Tulkas and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?
Melkor: That depends, how much money are we taking about?
Manwe: 63 cents.
Melkor: I'll take the money.
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Elrond sat down beside Melkor who was hugging his dragon plush from Celebrian like his life depended on it.
Elrond still had trouble seeing the little child as a feared war lord with no mercy.
“Are you okay?” He didn’t make the mistake of calling him a child, Melkor hold no power in this form but still had bit of a temper.
As Melkor nodded a tear ran down his cheek.
“Do you want a hug?”
Melkor did not move for a while before sobbing throwing himself into Elrond's arms.
He may still remember all that had happened, but his mind was the mind of a child and Elrond couldn’t stop wondering if he had always been this childish or if it was something that came with the fact he had been forced into a child form.
So this is NOT the start to my AU but I think it would take place some time after the start...?
Anyway I made a small drawing to it
Hope you liked the story and art UwU
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