#mienna

“I want you to choose me.” It was Melkor who whispered.

Cold tears escaped from Nienna's eyes. She couldn't choose, and he knew it. She wouldn't abandon the Valar. And he knew that she was there, on a failed mission to obtain his forgiveness, to return him to the grace of Eru. Melkor was far beyond redemption, it was too late for him. He did not wish to be redeemed, but to rule over all the beings of Arda.

“You know I cannot.” She sobbed. “I love you, Melkor. Please. I love you with all my heart, and you know that, don't you? But I cannot choose.”

She cried, feeling his hands squeeze her face harder, more brutally.

“You wicked creature, you hate me more than you hate them.” Nienna accused, furious. “Torturing me from the darkness with your false promises. You, Mighty Melkor, are my greatest torture, my greatest melancholy.”

CHAPTER II, Melancholic Torture.

probably the best thing ive ever created

WHO GAVE KLONK A GUN

based on:

“Is this what am I, then?” Melkor sneered, smiling at Nienna. “A outcast, a prisoner, bound by your chains of golden tears?”

Offended, Nienna looked away, fearful. Because she did not wish to sow frustration in Melkor's heart, so that the Valar would realize that he should be kept in chains. After all, Nienna had begged for forgiveness, for him. Because she believed he deserved a second chance.

“You cruelly twist my words, Melkor,” Nienna murmured. “I only know from rumor that your brother is close to you. That is all.”

Melkor laughed and Nienna flinched. It was not a happy laugh, she knew that well. She could not have expected anything else from him, not when he had been held prisoner in the Halls of Mandos for Three Ages, deprived of all freedom, deprived of all power.

“Not even the most melodic lies can fool me, Nienna.”

But he did not look angry, not really, not as he walked toward Nienna, without her showing any fear, without her trying to move away from him. Slowly, Melkor's hand reached for Nienna's face, keeping her attention solely on him.

Without the veil, he could clearly touch her skin, feeling her divine purity in his hand, which had not yet known the eternal burning of the Silmarils and was as beautiful and pure as it was cruel and wicked. But Nienna, despite everything, did not push Melkor's touch away. On the contrary, she closed her eyes.

CHAPTER XIII, Barbarity of Damnation.

“Cruel, you are, Melkor,” Nienna said, looking at him through the veil. “I am but another being in your mighty and cruel hand, which you tear to pieces for your own pleasure.”

“Damn you, Nienna. For you are my own undoing.” He bellowed, releasing Nienna’s arms.

Melkor was restless, uncertain. Because he was able to keep calm during battle. He was strong enough not to fear any enemy. But, it seems, he was nervous. Because he was furious with his own wife, but he feared that she would leave again.

“With your benevolence and kindness, wicked one, it is you.” Melkor said, glaring at Nienna. “Yet foolish am I, to trust you. Who are so loyal to them.”

Melkor laughed, and Nienna gasped, hurt by his laughter. He was indeed laughing, mocking the tears she was shedding for him. Melkor, however, was wounded. Wounded beyond the flesh, but beneath the flesh. A wound without scars, but one that could never be healed.

“A great fool, I am,” Melkor muttered, not taking his attention away from Nienna. “I fear the blame lies entirely with me, Nienna.”

CHAPTER VII, Flames of Betrayal.

commission for @tobifanxd of her dnd character Bard the Bard and the rest of our party in the background!