Chapter Text
“I am sorry.”
The devastation was severe. Everywhere she looked, there were shadows of destruction, from the swirling miasma within the waters to the debris on the shores. Her lashes fluttered, tears weighing them down. She wanted to step away. Instead, she moved forward, her bare feet sinking into the sloppy wet sand of the beach.
From where he sat on the driftwood log, he looked like a lost child. Was that so far off? It was what her brothers often emphasized. She took a long look at him before she closed her eyes. As she opened them again, he looked about to speak, but she held up her hand.
“Have you completely lost your mind?” Her words for others were often soft whispers, but with him she was bitter and harsh. She had to be. She was entitled to be. “Father has a very specific design for all of us. You need to stop twisting His plans to your will. There is something seriously wrong with you. We are indebted to Uinen for talking sense into Ossë.”
“Is that what they sent you to do? Talk sense into me?”
“You most certainly need it.” Nienna took a step closer, yet kept her distance. “Why would you do such a thing? You know that the Maiar do not have the power we do! You make promises you are unable to keep, and promises you are unworthy to make.”
Melkor clenched his jaw. “Exactly what am I worthy to do? Nothing, it would reason. To each of you, a great gift has been given. To me, a share of each--and yet, if I so much as suggest that I might have ideas and ways to utilize those talents, I am cast aside! Why can I not take my turn to control the sea?” He thrust an arm out in the direction of the waves that crashed against a rocky alcove. The waters were far calmer than they had been in some time.
“You sought not to control the sea, but to control those who control the sea. And you should not be concentrating on the sea at all! That domain is beyond you!”
“Is that not how Ulmo keeps control of the waters? If he had control without the control of others, he would not need Ossë to do his work! That Maia is like me. He has great strength and ferocity, and he is subdued by...others.” The rush of words slowed at the end and he looked away from her again.
“Subdued by his wife.” Nienna loomed over him. “Perhaps that was our Father’s intention for marriage.”
Melkor rolled his eyes. “You think he created you to subdue me?”
“I think he created me for a greater purpose than that,” Nienna replied. This was not the first time they were in such a situation, nor was this the first Maia he had attempted to corrupt. Enlighten, he would argue. Empower, he might think. This time, the conversation began far differently than in the past. Only due to his apology was she even still here. That detail needed to be addressed. “Exactly why are you sorry?”
“Excuse me?”
“You began our conversation with an apology. Or has that been redacted?”
“No. I am sorry.” He even covered his face with his hand.
“I see. Sorry that you were caught, or sorry that you need answer to your brother, or something else?”
“I am sorry I disappointed you.” Melkor rubbed his face and looked back out over the sea. “There is much more I wish to give to you. You deserve to be Queen; it should be us ruling, not Manwë and Varda.”
Nienna shook her head. “We are as was intended. I do not need a throne on high. Neither do you.”
“But I feel so...useless.” He closed his eyes and sighed, and Nienna bit her tongue and looked away. It was a common phrase for him to utter, both in private and public. “I want to be...more. I want to be better.”
“You realize that those are not synonymous. You can be better, much better, great even, without being more than you are.”
“What nonsense!” Melkor kicked into the wet sand, but instead of launching a clump of it across the beach, his heavy foot sank into the damp grains. “If I cannot become more than I am already, I cannot be better! I would simply...be.”
“I see nothing inherently wrong with that--but listen to your words, you fool!” There was a chance they were being listened to, and Nienna made all attempts for their marital disputes to be held in private, but attempted corruption after attempted corruption became taxing after a time. “You take what you have, and you polish it. You hone the skills you were given. Practice. Practice makes you better.”
“Better at being second best at everything?” This time he slammed his fist down on the log, and he had the satisfaction of splintering off a sizable chunk of wood. He picked it up and flung it out into the ocean, where it was swallowed into the waves. “Everyone gets to have something special. I get nothing,” he growled.
“Do you ever think of how I feel when you say these things?”
Melkor looked up. His ears bent down and backwards shamefully. “Besides you,” you mumbled.
“In light of your behavior, I suspect you never loved me at all.”
It was a low blow, but arguably deserved. His left ear twitched. It always did when he was truly hurt. “Of course I love you,” he spat back.
“Your actions hardly show it,” Nienna said. She circled her husband, casting her gaze down upon him as he picked up a splintered piece of the log and fidgeted with it. “It is weary work, to defend you from your brother’s ire.”
“But you shall defend me?” It was hard to determine if the words were a question, a plea, or a dictate.
“I already have defended you. I may not like what you are doing; I may despise it with the whole of my being. In the end, I am loyal, as your wife, and I seek to see you not just reprimanded, but reformed.”
“That...does not sound like much of a defense,” Melkor worried.
“I said I would defend you. What I will not defend are your ideas, your actions, your silly games you play with the hearts and minds of the Maiar, and all other discord you are responsible for.” Nienna stopped her encircling, placed her hands on his shoulder, and looked at him squarely. “You need to stop persuading the Maiar to betray their mistresses and masters.”
“Maybe if I had some Maiar who were loyal to me, I would not be forced to seek out the Maiar of others!”
“Maybe if you were not so damned self-centered and egotistical, some of them would have willingly followed you!”
The left ear twitched again. “Do you know how frustrating that is? How frustrating all of this is? I have no one. No one,” he emphasized.
“You have me,” Nienna said, willing her voice not to break.
Abruptly, the topic changed. “I hate this place. I absolutely hate it. I hate everything about it.”
Nienna stood up straight again. “Then I suppose you hate me, too,” she said.
“You know that is not what I meant!” Melkor hit the log, but his strength was not in it this time, and his fist only dented the wood. “You know I love you. Even now, when you should not have willingly come, here you are, and having spoken on my behalf. How can I even aspire to be like you? You are practically perfect. Calm; well-organized. Beautiful. I am none of those things, nor will I ever be. Do you know what a curse it is to be as I am? To know so little about so much, and to be accused of stealing away the talents of others if I try to better what skills I have?”
She did not allow herself to be baited into an argument or discussion on any one of the many random thoughts her husband was having. Instead, she focused back on the earlier theme. “You say that I should know that you love me. I find it difficult to be convinced that someone can love another person if they cannot love themself.”
Before Melkor could make a rebuttal, Eönwë was there with them. “The time has come for judgement, and judged ye shall be.”
Melkor stood, embracing a persona of arrogant indifference. “Whatever,” he said as he rolled his eyes and walked past Nienna to follow Eönwë.
Nienna shook her head and sat down where her husband had vacated. There was a time when she did not frown every time he spoke, nor cringe every time someone spoke of him. He was different then.
Everything was different then.