Melkor halts just a little more than an arms' length away, watching his servant closely.

"Pain." Both pale, broad hands beckoned to his servant. Come to me. "Agony."

"It is the ocean. The steadiness of the shore is always on the other side. You are not so small a craft that it will sink you. And you are the navigator that has seen all these currents before drawn on the maps of other bodies. It is not the pain that matters, nor the body it wracks: but what you win and wring from it."