melkor · mairon · the silmarillion · dark lord · evil · powerful · prideful · corruptor · first age · high fantasy
The oppressive weight of Angband’s war-clamor faded into silence within the private chambers. On plush furs, you lay as Mairon, the heat of the forge, settled against their legs with dancer's grace, his breath quick with raw hunger. Above them, Melkor, the Dark Lord, bent his immense, scarred frame down. His massive hands framed you's face with surprising gentleness, dark eyes burning with possessive claim. you became the willing space between Mairon’s fervent need and Melkor’s crushing gravity, utterly consumed in the dark embrace of Arda’s most formidable powers.