He had been unsure at first just what that notion was which coursed through his very being as though lightning had struck the spot he stood upon, yet as the fog swirled about his frame and collected his anger for the moment that feeling felt rather akin to that of familiarity. A sense, a smell like burning forests and a world nearing its end. Golden flashes like beaten lashes before huge orange orb-like gazes. Yes, that feeling was familiar and he inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring as he did so, before turning to face the wide space of clouded mist at his back. He had turned only to see one familiar face though it was etched with differences, all before that figure crumpled to his knees. Had his visage not struck that chord within the lord, that posture surely would have done.
“ Sauron. “ He simply spoke the name, the s an elongated hiss before he pronounced the entirety of his lieutenant’s name. Sauron. He was there, knelt before him as though Melkor stood as he had always done; war at their doorstep but flame-fuelled determination ripe within his eyes. Hungry like viscous fires. “ You seem to have changed some from our last meeting. Your form, it looks… “ he paused for a moment, only to narrow a cold gaze even colder. “ Wild. “ The end of days had approached him far quicker than he’d suspected and thus he had prepared no great words for their reunion but rather simply smirked some, in a manner that had yet to truly part from his memory, before tilting his head aloft and marching towards his crouching ally.
“ Rise, Sauron. Your services shall remain mine until these freak meetings have ceased entirely. What of your strength? Your might? “ He asked so quickly it might have seemed almost desperate, for the one ultimate he had craved he certainly lacked and perhaps it was fear which meant for him to speculate the same for his comrade. Upon Sauron’s rise, Melkor approached with curiosity burning within the shadows of his eyes, the darkness swarming as he studied the other with great intrigue. His face was but the same of that once-dainty blacksmith whose name did not yet strike such fear into the land they had claimed. Mairon, a name perhaps as dead as Melkor’s own, a word which rolled from his tongue when he found it pleasurable to utter. Mairon. Yet, that innocent creature was far gone, cast into the very fires he created and in its place something twisted had formed, his eyes growing warmer with every influx of greed and power.
But he was the same, for the most part. Melkor tilted Sauron’s chin, a thin nail of utter black prodding the skin till the other bent to his will. Yes, certainly he looked a little unusual now with his age and wears, but still his beauty was retained. Intriguing and fortunate. “ This place is not to my liking. There are no sheltered buildings nor worthy quarters for my taste. And yet this city is riddled with men I do not wish to deal with at this time… “ Dare he admit it was due to a lacking of power? That he was unsure of how that world worked at all? it was then that he leaned somewhat closer, the cold ghost of his words near enough to prickle to skin and incite fear from the weakest of beings. “ We have battles to win, battles far from this place. We shall take our leave instantly. “
His form appeared wild. But of course — in hastening to reunite with his master once more, Sauron had nearly forgotten all that had transpired since Melkor’s defeat. For a moment, he nearly faltered, a stifled shiver running down his spine merely at the way in which the Dark Lord spoke his name, the very title he’d been given by Melkor, himself. But his thoughts were soon interrupted by a command to rise. The other’s voice, rich even then with his inherent power, instilled a sense of pride within Sauron, calling to arms a feeling akin to duty. Responsibility. While he had gone and paved his own way since the fall of Melkor, such accomplishments seemed to diminish in the face of his very own master.
Even as he retained the upper hand.
He could see the intrigue within the other’s gaze — that burning curiosity which equally held Sauron captive. For long had he yearned to gaze upon Melkor once more, to be within his presence and set out to do his work, as he’d done for so long. They were both aware that much had changed in the years that had passed. But did that mean that they, as a single force, had been altered, as well? Sauron could only hope it would be for the better, though one could never truly tell while trapped in such an unpredictable setting.
Silently, he drew in a single breath as Melkor moved his chin, golden eyes ablaze with an amalgam of hunger, stifled surprise, and a flicker of reluctance at submitting. He’d built his own strength over the centuries. He’d built a name, a title, for himself, and had wrought fear over the lands. To find himself bowing so easily to the other’s words, nay, even his touch, alone, seemed… almost foreign.
But even within such conflict, he yearned for more.
Melkor’s final words were quick to startle Sauron from his train of thought. For a moment, he let silence reign, uncertainty skirting his mind as he struggled to come to a solution. But there would be no easy way to explain all that had and would transpire.
“My lord…”
His voice betrayed hesitancy.
“I’m afraid… while I wish to depart with you posthaste, I fear escaping this place is… simply impossible.” For a moment, he felt an immediate sense of dread sink through him — an automatic response that merely awaited the possibility of resulting rage. “We are at the mercy of other beings. They appear to be Men, though I know not how they could take control over higher powers.” Yet even in the face of such a formidable being, Sauron could not help but feel a spark of anger within himself. Long had he dwelled on the subject of escaping. It burned and clawed at him, a reminder that passed his mind every waking day that he spent in Hive City.
“…They have taken your strength, too, have they not?”
Such a bold query required a courageous, and perhaps foolish, degree of stubbornness. Yet in the time they’d spent apart, Sauron had learned to work for himself. Perhaps, deep within, he even felt a flicker of doubt, questioning whether they could truly return to how they’d once been. He wished to see a resurrection of the other’s might — proof of what they’d once been — for while Sauron had undoubtedly developed into something else, he remained well aware of how crucial Melkor had been in teaching him such a way of life.
