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"You know, Fëanor was a really good blacksmith!"
Said Melkora dreamily, and foxily narrowed her eyes.
Meanwhile in her chamber, her deputy and first officer, Maia of Fire, Sauron was, carefully although little bit gruffly taking care of her badly burned left palm.
But after her words, he jumped up sharply, as if he had suddenly found himself sitting in an anthill.
"How do you mean, good blacksmith?!"
He barked with an irritation, suspiciously looking at his lady.
In Melkora's deep, mesmeric eyes, two flames of fire lightened up. The reaction of her closest subordinate obviously amused her, and she decided to tease him a little
"It means," she whispered winsomely, seductively leaning forward, so she almost touched Sauron's ear, "that he was really amazing in banging me."
"If you know what I mean."
She added a conspiratorial wink.
And then, just amusedly, watched her subordinate face suddenly went pale, his eyes flushed with wild flames, and two thick black smoke poles rolled out of his ears.
Not long after this event, there was a regrettable incident near the Angband gates, during which the Elven nobleman and leader of the Noldor raiders, Fëanor, accidentally ran on the sword of the Angband commander Sauron. For about a seven times!