Melkor's heart skipped several beats at gemstone before it began to hammer wildly. His lips peeled back from his wolfish, too-white teeth in an expression that resembled a smile.

He used his own free hand to bat Mairon's hand away from his own face; used the pad of his thumb to neatly smooth away evidence of blood. Pain is an ocean. So see his servant bear what was certainly painful with such poise made a curl of hot pleasure wind through his middle.

"I was not Eru's dog; I will not be theirs. And before we set our strength to regaining power, we must first re-learn the shapes of what we are." Shards of gemstones in bodies; in flesh, so easy to break, to rend, to twist... His lashes fell low over his eyes and he tipped his strong chin up. "We will be as we were of old: force and treachery. By our might and cleverness," quite possibly mostly Mairon's cleverness, "We will regain all we have lost."