[ When he wakes he can sense the baby nearby, the lack of real distance a comfort. Sauron rises as night falls, not that there is much difference in hue beyond the windows, dressing simply in a red robe as he listens to the song in the other room. He is a creature of song and adores it still, not so much how disruptive it can be (not everyone can sound like mountains splitting like Morgoth) but for the spell it weaves over souls.
He has not sang in a long time.
When he does it is not what the Ainulindalë sounded like because that would be impressively foolish to imitate, but it is ... reminiscent of his part. The baby, at peace with Adar, blinks open its eyes and stares up at Adar, listening to the toned-down song as the lieutenant wanders into the room. The music sloughs off the worst of Gorthaur the Cruel and by product of what it is returns him to the fairer state of Mairon, briefly to elven eyes, than his own body can achieve when he shuns such ties.
He comes to sit beside the pair, a gentle hand curling atop the baby's head as it watches him while cradled in Adar's arms. ]
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He has not sang in a long time.
When he does it is not what the Ainulindalë sounded like because that would be impressively foolish to imitate, but it is ... reminiscent of his part. The baby, at peace with Adar, blinks open its eyes and stares up at Adar, listening to the toned-down song as the lieutenant wanders into the room. The music sloughs off the worst of Gorthaur the Cruel and by product of what it is returns him to the fairer state of Mairon, briefly to elven eyes, than his own body can achieve when he shuns such ties.
He comes to sit beside the pair, a gentle hand curling atop the baby's head as it watches him while cradled in Adar's arms. ]