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The first thing Maedhros noticed was that he was feeling lighter, somehow he wasn't feeling the chains around his body anymore.
The second thing he noticed was that his body seemed healthier, powerful even - an unlikely scenario, considering that he had been indeed a tortured prisoner in that horrible place called Angband for quite some time now and that his strength had dwindled down considerably.
The third and maybe first thing he noticed that made him think that something was horribly wrong was that he heard himself being referred as "Morgoth" by none other than Sauron himself.
That had to be the worst joke in existence.
He looked up - or better, down - and saw the Maia with an unnerved expression. "What did you just call me." His voice was different too, lower, darker. The tone came out more threatening than surpised. "Forgive me, Sire, Melkor. I should have watched my tongue." Sauron's mellifluous tone gave Maedhros a slight shiver he hoped had gone unnoticed.
At that point he looked better at himself head to toe in the faint reflecton of the gold of the lamps that adorned what now he had understood was the throne room. At that point he let out a series of insults worth of his late father.
He was now in Morgoth's body. How? He had no idea. Definitely someone out there was the worst jester in all Arda and as soon as he was out of that ordeal he was going to hunt the culprit for sport, be it Elda or Vala, or Maia or Man yet unborn.
In the meantime, however, he had to come to terms quickly with the fact that he was in Morgoth's body and that made him feel unclean in a way he did not think was possible.
But if he was in Morgoth's body, did it mean that Morgoth was in his body?
He had to stop thinking about it to avoid being sick to the bone. On hindsight, however, this brought up quite a lot of interesting ways to turn the tables.
And Sauron was still there.
"My Lord, are you al-"
"I am. Bring me to the prisoner." He acted out. Acting had been one of his skills after all, back in Valinor. Never he would have thought that he would need them at all. However, if he could fool everyone in Angband long enough, then he had the chance of turning this whole mess around.
And getting back the Silmarils, as he noticed them embedded in Morgoth's crown, shiny as he remembered them in Feanor's hands.
As Sauron lead him through the dark corridors towards a very familiar cell, he saw his body clearly possessed by Morgoth. Maedhros, in Morgoth's body, felt like smirking. "Leave me alone with the prisoner." He ordered.
"But Sire, he is not deserving of your attention!" Sauron rebated in the same earlier tone. A simple look was enough to shush him.
"Of course, Sire. I shall take my leave."
As Sauron completely disappeared, Maedhros dropped the act. "Was it you?"
"Do you think I would swap body for a ragged Elf barely able to hold himself up? No. Of course not."
"You do realize I am now up."
"As if you would hurt your own body."
"You are bold to assume I would not be above that."
"You must hate yourself so so much."
Maedhros, in Morgoth's body, did not dignify that last statement with a reply. Only Morgoth's laughter, jarring through Maedhros' clearly younger and higher voice, echoed through the corridor.
"You are going to regret this, Son of the wretched Elf."
"It will depend on whether you will regret this first, filth."
And with that he considered the conversation closed. It was going to be a long period, but he had plans. Morgoth too, unfortunately, but Maedhros loved a challenge.
And he was now in for the biggest challenge of all.