In the five hundred and ninetieth year of the First Age, a lone maia was hiding among piles of snow as he observed Angband, watching the orcs on patrol as he tried to think of a way past to slip inside.

Eönwë should have known that despite his best hopes, his spying outside of Angband would be discovered and he would be captured -spotted by three other Maiar returning from a mission.

The three Balrogs held him bound as he was dragged through the corridors of the mostly underground fortress, struggling against their hold as he passed slaves, servants, and citizens alike.

When they entered the Nethermost Hall, the Herald of Manwë was forced to kneel before the obsidian throne and the dais it sat upon, hearing the cackles and whispers of the assorted beings that made up the Dark Lord's court.

Looking up, Eönwë made eye contact with the Vala that had successfully conquered the entirety of Middle Earth and Beleriand.

Melkor (or rather, Morgoth, as the inhabitants of the two continents began to call him) looked nearly identical to his twin save his hair was black and the left side was shaved close to his almond skin, his right eye was black and the left was missing entirely -replaced with a sphere of rainbow obsidian-, his face was heavily scarred from Thorondor's attack of him, dressed simply in black peasant-style clothing made of rich cloths, and atop his head was the wrought iron crown that held all three Silmarils.

But the maia's eyes did not remain upon the vala for long, instead looking at the five living statues that surrounded him.

The first -sitting on the left armrest- was a face Eönwë knew well: Mairon, formerly of Aulë.

Mairon's kohl-lined golden gaze was staring a hole into Eönwë, sizing him up silently; the other maia's knee-length strawberry blond hair was elegantly braided and decorated with golden accessories though none compared to the golden diadem he wore that held an amber gem that depicted the eye he had taken as his sigal, he was clad in a black dress robe that had long slits along the side, exposing his lithe pale legs.

Sitting on the opposite armrest was Lady Nienna, the Vala of Grief and Compassion, and Eönwë would never understand how Melkor had ensnared her.

Nienna was clad in a conservative periwinkle dress littered with black embroidered tears, her lovely face and lilac eyes -that were actively dripping with tears- were hidden behind a black organza veil, as was her silver hair that was neatly held in a bun and her pale hands were clasped on her lap; around her neck she wore a silver chain that held a clear gem shaped like a tear and atop her veiled head was a simple tiara of silver vines.

Sitting slightly to the left by Mairon's feet, resting her head on Melkor's knee, was Thuringwethil.

The former Maia of Vána's wavy red hair blended in perfectly with the blood still staining her lips, her dark grey dress simultaneously leaving nothing to the imagination while hiding everything with how skintight it was, exposing only her arms -which were littered with tasteful tattoos of bats- and neck -which was just as littered with bites- and her simple weblike circlet held black diamonds.

Most notable to the herald were the pair of barely toddlers sitting on the other maia's lap, identically dressed in cutsey black dresses with the only difference between them was the one on the right had bows in their wavy black hair; and if the rumors were to be believed then Eönwë knew they were Prince Morrána and Princess Morelenĕ.

Sitting beside her, with her head resting against Melkor's inner thigh, was the newest of Melkor's brides: Lúthien, the Princess of Doriath.

The maiarindi's brown -nearly black hair- was curled to perfection and was freely draping down her shoulders and back, topped with a golden tiara that curiously had nightingale shapes on it as well as pearls, she wore a navy blue gown with a full skirt that made it impossible to see her legs but showed off her ample cleavage to the extent that Eönwë thought that they would spill from the cups holding them if she made any sudden movements.

However, he wondered if such a choice of dress had more to do with the young babe on her lap resting its head against her nearly exposed breasts where it could nurse easily at a moment's notice, the child bundled in a black fur so tightly that only its black wavy hair could be seen (if the rumors were to be believed, Eönwë would guess that this was Prince Dior -and that said wonders how highly the half-elf held her son in regards when his name quite literally meant 'successor').

Finally was the halfling on Melkor's lap, out of all five of the brides this one was known the least about.

The hobbit was simply dressed in a white gown -though that likely had to do more with his heavily pregnant belly than personal style preferences- and he had a white fur-lined cloak on, his golden curls were kept short and he had a silver circlet of flowers atop it; the hobbit's hands were atop Melkor's charred left one on his swollen belly and his pale green eyes were staring adoringly at the vala rather than their unwanted guest.

Melkor's charred right hand appeared and began stroking Lúthien's face and she tilted her head to make it easier on him to have access to her, the throned king speaking at last, "You are far from Valinor, little bird."

Eönwë said nothing, not wanting to give away any of the information he knew.

"I thought I made myself quite plain when I sent a missive to your master last year." Melkor thought aloud, "That I would leave Valinor alone as long as none there bothered me here. Yet here you are. Has that fool Manwë found my terms unacceptable?"

"You were most generous with your terms, my darkness." Mairon added, running a hand along Melkor's chest, "He would be a fool to act so disobediently when he knows it would lead to war."

The captured maia began to tremble at the implication, speaking at last, "He-He doesn't know I am here. I came alone."

"He is lying, husband." Nienna commented, "Your traitor brother sent him, likely to undermine you -stir rebellion."

Melkor nodded, "Yes, you are right."

The Dark Lord's black eye narrowed as he looked at Eönwë, "I will allow you to leave and give my brother a message. You will tell Manwë that he will not send anyone else to my realm or else he will find war upon the shores of Valinor, this is the final warning."

The hobbit then spoke, kissing at Melkor's jaw, "He does not need hands to deliver a message, my love."

Eönwë's eyes widened at that, struggling even harder against the Balrogs holding him in place, hearing his own heartbeat.

"He does need his wings regrettably." Lúthien sighed, "They would make such a lovely decoration alongside your other trophies, my dearest."

Manwë's Banner Bearer screamed protests as the Balrogs shifted him so his hands were splayed on the ground, desperately kicking anything he could as the third pulled out a sword and sliced off his hands simultaneously with a clean stroke.

Just as he was dragged through the halls to the throne room, Eönwë was dragged out of Angband and unceremoniously tossed into the snow just outside the gates, staining the powdery snow blue with his blood as he got up shakily.

His mission had been an utter failure and he had been crippled horribly.

Eönwë had been sent to smuggle one or more of the reported children out of Angband to Valinor to either be a hostage and force Melkor to surrender the lands he had conquered or to be raised to kill the rogue vala.

But, that would not work now as he had failed and Melkor now knew Manwë was willing to send spies.

***

Back inside the Nethermost Hall, Melkor watched as the beings that made up his court filtered out of the room, being left alone with his brides.

"Manwë will without a doubt be sending more spies, my darkness." Mairon stated, "Nor will he take well to the crippling of his herald."

The Vala of Chaos and Decay did not seem too concerned by that, "Let him come."

"Does the prospect not worry you, husband?" Nienna asked, "A fight against the rest of the Valar does not bode well for you."

"My brother is too much a coward for a direct fight and he holds little love for these lands, there is little he would be willing to start a war for, and Eönwë -despite being his most favored- is just a servant in his eyes." Melkor replied, "Besides, I seem to have five cards up my sleeves."