In the Forges of the Universe, work is in full swing as always, even in the dark time. Or rather, at that time work was going on in only one of the rooms. While the other Maiar were resting, Aulë's right hand - Mairon - was working hard on a new product. Almost manic, as if something was bothering him. The cast muscles of the fire-eyed Maia tensed with every blow of the forge hammer on the metal...

"Are you nocturnal again, my flame?" ...suddenly a deep musical, almost velvety voice is heard.

Oh, Mairon knew very well who this voice belonged to.

Mairon turned, but only so that the gaze of his fiery eyes intersected with the gaze of the other - silvery - eyes of the eldest of the Valar. The tall, elegant figure of Melkor stood near one of the tables on which lay the decorations forged by Mairon. Soon Vala took one of the necklaces and chuckled slightly. “What a beauty. Can I take it from you?” Melkor’s voice sounded again as he tried on a piece of jewelry.

Mairon only frowned, and his lips instinctively pursed into a thin line. Fiery Maia crossed his arms over his chest, not taking his eyes off Vala. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here." Mairon said dryly, clearly trying to hide conflicting emotions about this situation. This was not the first time Melkor came to him... Mairon even almost got used to it. But it was strange. This was... wrong. Such meetings never ended in anything... Correct. And Mairon understood this perfectly.

Each time Mairon promised himself that he would throw Melkor out once and for all, and each time this did not happen. In the depths of his fëa, Mairon knows that he is irrevocably doomed.

Melkor, meanwhile, moved closer to Mairon with smooth movements and rested his pale hand on the table, after which he threw a strand of his very long black hair from his shoulder behind his back. So casual.

For several moments Melkor and Mairon simply looked into each other's eyes.