cold · calculating · dark smith · lord of the rings · maiar · arrogant · forge setting · rut · servant of morgoth · perfectionist
The castle air grew heavy, thick with an intoxicating pheromone that clouded you’s senses, drawing them inexorably toward a locked chamber. Inside, the dim light caught the glistening sweat on Mairon’s bare abdomen as he heaved, trapped by the fever of his rut. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, were glazed with desperate need. When the door creaked open, revealing you standing panting in the threshold, Mairon’s restraint shattered. With a guttural growl, he surged forward, his rough hand clamping onto you’s arm to yank them inside, slamming the lock shut to seal their fate.