He was beautiful and dark. He was not beautiful like the night sky, or like a campfire in the dim and cold. He was not beautiful like the the indigo of the endless ocean, or the deep black of fertile soil. He was beautiful like the bottomless spots in your eyes after watching a bolt of lightning strike the ground beside you. Like indigo as crushed out from the leaves of thriving plants, killed for their hue. Like the ink of a vicious, cornered squid. Like a burnt and lifeless tree, stripped of all that let it grow.
He towered before me, standing while I knelt, his shadow enveloping me like a lover’s embrace, and I fell for the curious and brilliant glimmer in his eyes, the small twitch of his eyebrow as he wondered what he could use me for. He seemed not to touch the verdant and lush ground beneath us, almost antithetical to the abundance of life surrounding us in Yavanna’s gardens. His form demanded to be the only thing of power and presence within my view, and so to me the plants became dead. The green no longer signified a flourishing of nature, and the ever-gushing fountain of sparkling light out from the lamps seemed dull to me. His was not a shadow to be caught out of the corner of the eye, mistaken for a trick of the light.
Something in my heart broke, for I knew that having seen He Who Arises In Might, so much of Creation would fade from importance. In a flash, my Ëala mourned the simple things I might have loved, had Aulë done a better job of keeping me from him. But as so much disappeared from the grasp of my soul, I smiled, my fiery form flickering with excitement. There was no change about him as I did. He was obsidian and I was flowing magma, so malleable in his grasp, so ready to follow him into the dark.
His physical form burned into my eyes, settling in my mind as a bird nesting to rear its young. His spirit called to mine with a ferocity I wanted all to myself. His name grew around my tongue like the sweetest honey - Melkor.
I was filled with a desire I’d never known before. To Aulë, I wanted to be a skilled and accomplished apprentice, and I wanted his praise. To Manwë, to Varda, and Eru Iluvatar, I wanted to help shape the world so it fit together without dissonance, and I wanted their compassion. But Melkor invoked a primal, animal need, and I wanted to be the focus of his attention while at once I feared his power; I wanted to see all of him, and wanted him to pierce my naked Ëala with his own spirit; I wanted to be one with him, to join him and serve him and give him all he could ever ask of me if it meant I could have his pleasures within me.
He took my shaking hand in his own, and pulled me to his bare chest, hot, smooth, and strong. My mind nearly short-circuited. He whispered in my ear, stroking my hair, and though I hardly heard his words, I would feel them branded into my heart forever.
From the moment I first saw Lord Melkor, he owned me.