Not surprised? By my ‘promotion’ or by my exile to this moldy island in the middle of an elvish swamp?
Don’t pretend as though you knew lord Melkor’s plans before I did, you glib little sky-rat. Like it or not, you’re stuck here just the same as me, so we may as well try to get along.
I’m merely surprised that our Lord would choose a smith to warm his bed at night. I mean I’ve heard the phrase ‘save an anvil and bang a smith’ but I didn’t think he’d take it quite as literally as that.
How very eloquent of you to call me a sky-rat, especially when you yourself are naught but a flea ridden beast.
Yet if you insist on maintaining this illusion of getting along, I assure you, I am more than capable. What would you have me do, I wonder? Shall I scratch behind your ears or should I fetch you a noldor bone first, hmm? Or shall I stroke your beard and tickle your stomach?
Ah, I understand. You think I am beneath him– a mere Maia of the forge, though the greatest of those. But who is Thuringwethil to decide who lord Melkor takes to bed? If I am unworthy of him, then doubly so art thou, a messenger.
And before you lay so much as a finger on me or call me ‘dog’, I will remind you that it was to my service you were given. This is not Angband– here, Iam lord, and there are none who outrank me.
Insult me again, and I need not even write to our Master before pulling the wings off you like a fly. Do I make myself clear?
Oh, I have heard your moans from the other side of the fortress. I don’t just believe you are, I know you are beneath him. As for myself, I do not believe that I could satisfy him as much as you or Gothmog could, though he would be prone to burning in a humanoid form.
No, my lord, indeed you are not a dog. You are a wolf, the finest wolf there is, when you’re not insulting me or eating my bats.
Now, now, Sauron there is no need for violent threats. If you wish to play at that game I would be more than willing to drain your form of its precious blood and leave you gasping for air.
However, I do not wish to leave Melkor’s bed cold and unattended and it wouldn’t be fun without you here to wind up.
You…! *sighs and rubs his forehead* Touché.
…For the wordplay alone, I will let your insubordinate attitude slide– Once, and once only! If this is to be a working relationship, you will be expected to do as you are told. Tol Sirion may be a god forsaken hole in the map of Beleriand, but our job here is nevertheless important. At least I pray it is, else I cannot imagine a reason for Lord Melkor to have sent me here, so far from his side.
Now if you’ll forgive me, lady Thuringwethil, I am in a foul mood. I do not wish to be here, minding this mosquito-ridden elf castle in the middle of a river, surrounded by swamp. I do not wish to be away from my forge, away from my Master, and away from the northern front. And I certainly did not wish to be thrown in with a courier who does not mind her manners.
But I apologize for the threats. It was uncivil of me.
…..
I have never ONCE eaten a bat, and well you know it. *huff*
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 