This is more than he dared dream of while rebuilding a home in Mordor; to have Melkor at his side again, to feel his deep voice reverberating through his chest like a growl from a wolf, it's so delicious, so right. Sauron — Mairon, I want to be Mairon for you again — cleaves to him just enough that his Master can walk freely and without incident, close enough to lean into his side and gaze up adoringly. His own grin splits widely as he listens, two predators looming over a fresh kill, satiated in advance with what they will gorge upon.
All in time, and they have plenty of that.
"The world is smaller than it was, with Men living in a city so close to the border of Mordor that they can see the fires, and they call it Mount Doom." Laughter bubbles up for the first time, pleased with the tyranny that rumps rampant with barely a skirmish of his dark creatures. "I walked among the Eldar as Annatar —" Lord of Gifts, does the jest please you? "— and the fools made me such prizes."
Bolder now, his accomplishments alone riding up behind his brightening eyes, he steps before Melkor and tries to coax him into a shadowed alcove. His tongue touches behind his teeth in anticipation, excitement banked only for propriety's sake now that he has the chance to unveil his doings. Hushed, he grins fleetingly, and his eyes burn as he confesses, "I have spread my power into many rings — three for the Eldar, seven for the dwarf-lords, and nine for Men.
"And the One Ring that commands them."
Secrets, I have such secrets, take them all from me if you will it.
Standing so close to his Lord, he raises the hand wearing said ring; and it is bright and beautiful and glorious, but it does not ripple with life. And Sauron, so thrilled to have this opportunity to show him, does not immediately notice.
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All in time, and they have plenty of that.
"The world is smaller than it was, with Men living in a city so close to the border of Mordor that they can see the fires, and they call it Mount Doom." Laughter bubbles up for the first time, pleased with the tyranny that rumps rampant with barely a skirmish of his dark creatures. "I walked among the Eldar as Annatar —" Lord of Gifts, does the jest please you? "— and the fools made me such prizes."
Bolder now, his accomplishments alone riding up behind his brightening eyes, he steps before Melkor and tries to coax him into a shadowed alcove. His tongue touches behind his teeth in anticipation, excitement banked only for propriety's sake now that he has the chance to unveil his doings. Hushed, he grins fleetingly, and his eyes burn as he confesses, "I have spread my power into many rings — three for the Eldar, seven for the dwarf-lords, and nine for Men.
"And the One Ring that commands them."
Secrets, I have such secrets, take them all from me if you will it.
Standing so close to his Lord, he raises the hand wearing said ring; and it is bright and beautiful and glorious, but it does not ripple with life. And Sauron, so thrilled to have this opportunity to show him, does not immediately notice.