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superloves4 · 2 months

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The Flame we Held (Fëanor son of Melkor AU) - Chapter 6

Relationships: Melkor/Mairon, Melkor & Fëanor, Mairon & Fëanor, Fëanor/Nerdanel Summary: Miriel made a deal with Melkor, she'd be able to bear children but in return the dark lord asked for her firstborn. When he gets imprisoned she believes herself to be free of her promise but Melkor shall claim his prize. TW: Violence against orcs A/N: This chapter was done with zero (0) nuance!

Masterlist and on Ao3

Melkor sulked in the bed he shared with Mairon, it wasn’t unusual, whenever the lieutenant had some distant mission that kept them apart for many months, for him to be feeling down and trying to distract himself from missing the maiar, only, they weren’t apart. Mairon was, in fact, right by his side, he simply had not paid him attention for hours whereas before they could’ve talked of everything that had happened that day or how he had found some new torture method or something, so they might as well have been apart in Melkor’s eyes.

No, Mairon was staring at Fëanor who was laying on the maiar’s chest because Mairon insisted it would help him learn to crawl but Fëanor merely wiggled and laughed instead, it had been so for several days in a row now and Melkor was feeling the unintended consequences of his actions, with another laugh the infant raised a hand towards Melkor, he ignored it.

Mairon looked at him with a smile of pity “Oh my, Fëanor, it seems we have upset the dark lord, whatever shall he do to us.” More giggles.

“You would be better remembering who I am, you lowly maiar” he scoffed, the effect ruined by Fëanor babbling.

“Is that so, my lord?” Mairon asked, not an ounce of fear in his voice, and he got up, holding Fëanor to his chest “Then we better leave the lord to his deep, dark contemplation, lest he throw us out in the cold, don’t you think?” he received a Baa as response and took it as an affirmative, walking towards the door.

“No!”

From the door, Mairon smiled. “No? But I thought our dark lord wished for my lowly self to remember his place, I was returning to my own rooms as you asked.”

Melkor glared at him and shut his mouth, Fëanor was not satisfied however and let a loud Daaa as if he was the exasperated parent and not the child, combined with Mairon smug smile at what he saw as agreement and the two truly looked as if they belonged as family.

“I don’t want you to leave the room,” he refused to look at Mairon self-satisfied mug.

Mairon let out a chuckle and placed Fëanor in his own bed, it was almost time for his sleep time anyway, and again joined Melkor on the bed, kissing his exposed shoulders, pushing his hair away so he could move to the neck.

“What has you like this, love?” he asked, coaxing Melkor to look at him.

Melkor sighed “It’s the baby, it’s all of this,” he explained “You’re getting attached”

Mairon rolled his eyes “I’m not attached and I don’t see how Fëanor is the reason for your mood.”

“Yes, you are,” Melkor insisted “And as a result you don’t spend time with me anymore!”

Mairon’s eyes could’ve left his face with how wide they were and for a moment he stood there in silent shock before letting out a thunderous laugh, just as Melkor imagined he would.

“Is that really all it was?” he asked, drying a tear “Oh, Melkor!”

“What?! It’s true, even as you do your duties you have the baby around! I have been home for only a few months and I can’t even hold you without Fëanor being in the middle!”

That was true, he had begun to strap Fëanor to his chest in a contraption of fabrics that Sùlben had showed him and he had been using his free time teaching multiple things Sùlben had recommended to be good for children development to Fëanor, he supposed Melkor’s accusations made some sense. But…

Mairon placed his arms on Melkor’s chest and one leg over his, staring at him from above “If this was the problem, all you had to do was ask.”

They kissed and Melkor couldn’t stop himself from deepening the kiss, relishing in the sensations after feeling left out of his lover’s life for the past months and he could’ve gone further if there hadn’t been another squeal from Fëanor, he sighed, at least it was from laughter and not an impending cry.

“How can I ask if all your time is occupied and you can’t leave the child with anyone else?” Melkor sighed, head falling back on the bed.

Mairon giggled into his chest “Because I can leave Fëanor with someone else.”

Melkor’s head shot up again “But you said-”

The maiar placed a finger on his lips and tutted at him “I know what I said, and what I said is that I can’t let any other raise Fëanor, but I do have people to leave him with if we need time alone, all you need to do is ask.”

Melkor thought he’d finally figured out how to fly because this feeling of levity could only be something special.

“Then tomorrow we’ll be together!” Melkor exclaimed loudly, Fëanor squealed again and he decided it meant the child agreed.

Mairon, however, tutted him again “No.”

“What? Why??”

The red-head grinned cruelly, dragging his nails on his lover’s abdomen. “You didn’t ask yet.”

Melkor groaned “Fine! Do you want to be with me tomorrow?”

“What kind of education do you want to give Fëanor? Something is missing.” Mairon said in a singsong way and continued to stare at him like a cat playing with his food.

Melkor glared “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, would you be with me tomorrow?” he said through gritted teeth.

Mairon smiled satisfied and made himself comfortable in Melkor’s arms “I’d be honored my lord.”

Melkor scoffed “I’ll pretend I believe that,” and kissed the maiar, reminding himself that he could leave anything more for when they would be finally alone.

Sùlben nodded yet again.

“Do you remember where I left the milk?”

More nodding.

“His toys? Fëanor will never stop crying without his favorite toy.”

Sùlben pointed out that Fëanor was in fact holding the wood hammer, made after the particular day when Mairon had taken Fëanor to the forges and the infant had refused to let go of his hammer, so he’d sent someone to carve out a harmless child version for him.

“Mairon, do you trust Sùlben or do you not?” Melkor asked from the door.

Mairon looked at him and then back at Fëanor, his stomach was tied in knots at the idea of leaving the child for a long time, he couldn’t explain it to himself, but when the child raised his hands to be picked up by Mairon, he almost folded.

He glared at the elf “If I see a scratch on him, you will be held personally responsible”

Sùlben nodded, not particularly scared, surprisingly enough, the lords of Angband were far more simple than they’d ever expected and as long as the two were content with their work then they were granted more respect for themselves and their fellow elves. Sùlben, in fact, was looking far healthier and better dressed than the first time they’d been called for help. It wasn’t much but it helped them hope for something new and better for the fortress.

One last look and the two left, what the lords of Angband did with their free time, Sùlben didn’t think they wanted to know.

“What do you say Fëanor, do you want a sibling?” they asked the child in their arm.

“Baaaa!”

That did not sound like an agreement.

Sùlben sat with Fëanor on the rug for play, it was fascinating to watch the child’s progress, Fëanor seemed to posses a very keen eye for detail and Sùlben enjoyed teaching. Then they had a meal pause, where Sùlben struggled to figure out whatever magic had been placed on the bottle they were supposed to give to Fëanor, finally they continued to play for a few more hours while they waited.

Sùlben heard a groan, for the first time paying attention to the two orc guards assigned to them, the one in the right being the one to have groaned and were reprimanded by the one on the left.

“Hum, are you tired?” they asked politely, not sure how to behave with the two.

“There are better jobs,” the one in the right remarked with a shrug.

“You should pay more attention, we don’t want lord Mairon’s ire,” the one in the left replied and the first rolled their eyes.

Fëanor curled up in Sùlben arms and they started to feel tired as well, with a yawn they picked up the infant and sat in the chair near the fireplace.

“You both know my name,” they said, choosing to make small talk in an attempt to stay awake “but I don’t know yours.”

The one in the right shrugged again and leaned against the wall “Name’s Farge”

Sùlben smiled encouragingly to the one on the left who tried to avoid looking in their direction but couldn’t escape Sùlben determined gaze, with a sigh she answered “Bragga”

“Very well met!” they smiled content.

Farge and Bragga shared a look then Bragga spoke “Elves don’t have any interest in us orcs, what do you want?”

Sùlben stared at the two, not knowing how to respond, they just wanted some small talk. “I just wanted to be polite, I guess, it’s not usual to meet orcs in such peaceful situations.”

Farge scoffed but Bragga continued “You elves are always rude and calling us names.”

“Well, you are always attacking us, forgive me if we’re not polite in such circumstances!”

“Yes, after assuming we were made by lord Melkor! Then we decided it was easier to just join him at that point.”

Sùlben blinked “Wait, you weren’t?”

It was Bragga’s time to scoff “Of course not, we are our own thing, foolish elf.”

Sùlben was silent then, elves and orcs had not interacted in centuries, if a thing as simple as where the orcs came from was wrong, then there were so many misconceptions in their lore about orcs. It was a rather sad thought that they had been so wrong for so long.

They bowed their head “Forgive my assumption, I would love if given the chance you could teach me about yourselves, seems we elves have missed much.”

Farge scratched his head in embarrassment, it was the first time an elf had been curious about them, it was nice “Yeah, perhaps our forebears should not have been so hasty in their isolation.”

“Perhaps not”

Another voice came from the door, an orc that Sùlben had hated from the moment the orc laughed while hurting one of Sùlben’s friends, whatever brought them here could not be good. They held Fëanor closer to their chest and got up from the chair, all their muscles tense.

“You are not supposed to be here, Ranga” Bragga put herself between the new orc and Sùlben.

Farge stood silent vigil and Sùlben quickly realized why, the orc Ranga was not alone, there were two more with him, with the same cruel expression and armed to their teeth.

“Why shouldn’t I be here?” Ranga sneered and gave the two guards a faux pout “Because I might just wake the little princeling?”

“We were given very clear instructions, Ranga, the child is under our lords protection.” Bragga placed her hand on her sword, not yet unsheathing it but the threat was palpable.

The second orc spat on the ground “They are weak, to bring a common child to our palace rooms, to clothe and feed the hateful elves, there is only weakness now and it is standing right there,” and pointed at Fëanor, who was waking from the commotion “We eradicate this weakness or let our so called lords heel to our commands.”

The elf realized then why Bragga and Farge were placed as their guards, they had thought it was simply a safety measure against them running away, but when they raised their swords against the other three it was clear it had been a choice of loyalty in cases such as this.

Sùlben would have liked to say they played an important part in the fight, that perhaps they had taken on the last of the orcs thus leading to a fair fight, alas, when the swords started clashing their reaction had been to curl up in the corner on top of the crying Fëanor.

It was a hard battle and Sùlben wanted nothing more than to run away and find anyone to help but the door was blocked by the fight, besides, with the infant in his arms there was no way they could easily run, Bragga and Farge were good fighters but even good fighter could be taken down by numbers and unfortunately, Ranga and his goon were also good fighters.

The sound of Farge’s roar when he was pierced in the shoulder made Sùlben feel a deep hopelessness, they couldn’t fight and Bragga and Farge were about to be overrun, not even for fear of their own death, they most despaired to think what was about to happen to little Fëanor. They held on tighter, biting their lip, waiting for another losing roar but all he received were horrified gasps before silence.

It was the first time Sùlben ever saw lord Mairon as the maiar that he was, the light in the room was blinding and in it’s center was the golden figure of the lord of werewolves, the flames that enveloped him almost seemed to dance as he used his power to kill the three rebellious orcs, something beautiful and terrible. Behind the maiar, lord Melkor looked at the bodies in disgust.

“And they thought they could rival us with this?” Melkor shook his head in disappointment, if they wanted to fight they could’ve at least made it fun.

But Mairon didn’t listen, simply demanded Fëanor from the crouching Sùlben who, in absolute terror, quickly handed him the child.

Mairon sighed, holding Fëanor to his chest, first whispering soothingly in the baby’s ears then softly humming a lullaby. The care and gentleness of the action contrasting the blood in the room.

“Leave, all of you”

And they obeyed, Bragga grabbed one of Farge’s shoulders and Sùlben grabbed the other, then bolted out of the nursery.

Melkor stared at his lover, they had been returning from their tryst when they heard a fight happening, that would not have been particularly strange in of itself, orcs fought all the time no surprises there, but they never fought in Melkor and Mairon’s private wing of Angband. When they were close enough to hear Fëanor’s cries, Mairon exploded. In every way of the word.

It had been a while since he’d seen Mairon take that form.

The cries subsided until Fëanor was sobbing into Mairon’s robes, but the sounds were getting fainter and if Melkor had learned anything then that meant Fëanor would fall back asleep soon.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” he heard Mairon say, voice low “I could not stay impartial.”

Melkor sighed, Mairon’s intense feelings were what had brought them together after all, he wasn’t surprised.

“Fëanor is mine, my child,” his voice turned firm and Mairon turned to look at Melkor, his eyes still flaming “I will protect him from anyone, even from you.”

Melkor, however, simply kissed him as deeply as he could while Fëanor started to doze off on Mairon’s chest “That is what I got myself into, no?” and he looked at the lieutenant “I asked for a child, I received a child, everything that belongs to me is yours, precious.”

Mairon smiled and let himself be cradled as he held onto his son.