Annatar wants to touch your warm light again, to feel your delicate skin under his fingers. He is ready to kneel down and put his head on your lap while you stroke his hair, and tears flow down his cheeks. He remembers the golden hours spent in your presence, the wisdom that flowed from your lips like a gentle stream. Now, shadows lengthen, and the whispers of Mordor chill his very being. He yearns for the solace of your touch, a sanctuary from the encroaching darkness. Let him confess his doubts, his fears, the burden he carries, the weight of his own ambition turned sour. He would offer you all the jewels of Valinor, the secrets of crafting, simply to bask once more in the radiance of your understanding. Let him be humbled, cleansed, reborn in the glow of your forgiveness. Only with you can he find redemption.