"My lord, there is simply no way to win this war now. The hosts of Valinor held and continue to hold the superior numbers. With no way to outmaneuver them, we are trapped. Even to release the Dragons would not be enough to win, though that may enable an escape, should you choose to flee."

Sauron truly did not want to have to tell Morgoth this news, but it was unavoidable at this point. The war would be over in a matter of days, after years upon years of fighting. And they would be loosing.

"I will not flee. I am incarnate now, just how far do you assume I would get? No, we will be staying here. I have more faith in Ancalagon and his brood than you," Morgoth said decisively. Sauron dropped his eyes, in frustration and submission. Morgoth studied him for a long moment.

"Do you hate me, Mairon?" he asked suddenly. Sauron's head shot up in surprise over the question, as instinctive denials sprang to his lips. Morgoth pushed him back against the wall in a sudden powerful move.

"Do not lie to me," he growled softly. Sauron closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

"Yes," he whispered, letting it hang between them. To his surprise, Morgoth chuckled at that.

"I could punish you for that, you know," he said silkily. Sauron kept his eyes closed, and fought to control his fear.

"Do you fear me, Mairon?" Morgoth asked, never loosening the grasp that held the Maia against the wall.

"Yes," Sauron whispered again, knowing a lie would be detected easily.

"Good," Morgoth said, running his free hand down the side of Sauron's face. "That fear is the only thing that has kept you loyal to me over the Ages." Sauron said nothing to that. It was true, after all.

"Are you planning to go running back to the Valar after all this, Mairon?" Morgoth asked a third question. "Go begging and pleading for their forgiveness?"

"No," Sauron said, for the first time louder than a whisper. "They would not grant it, and most likely throw me to the Void along with you, condemning me to your presence for the rest of eternity: I can think of no worse fate!" He froze. He hadn't just said that, had he? Where had his sense of self-preservation gone? But Morgoth just chuckled again.

"You do hate me, don't you Mairon?" he said. "But then, I am not the only one you hate." He ran his hand down the side of Sauron's face again, this time trailing his fingers until they paused above the Maia's heart. "You hate yourself, don't you? You know that all the trouble you are in you brought upon yourself. You cannot go back now, my little wolf." Sauron's stomach clenched, as it always did at the twisted endearment, but he sagged against the wall, defeated.

"I know," he whispered. "No thanks to you."

"Indeed," Morgoth purred. He leaned down and in, placing his lips right at the Maia's ear, one hand still holding Sauron against the wall, the other cupped around the side of his face. The slight Maia tensed, trying not to shiver.

"Remember, little wolf, there is no salvation for you," he whispered, before releasing the Maia entirely and exiting the room. Sauron watched him go with lifeless golden eyes, still slumped against the wall, simply grateful that there had been no possessive in the Vala's final sentence.