Melkor's laugh echoes through the room. "Thou base, thou cringing worm! Stand up, and hear me! And now drink the cup that I have sweetly blent for thee!"

He stood up, stepping down the stairs that led to his throne, towering above all. "Thou fool! A phantom thou didst see that Sauron my servant made to snare thy lovesick wits. Naught else was there."

Melkor kneels down on one knee, tangling his pale, clawed hand into the oily, matted mess of Gorlim's hair, forcing his head up so he can look down into the grey eyes. "Cold 'tis with Sauron's wraiths to wed!" he spits down into the traitor's face. "Thy Eilinel! She is long since dead, dead, food for worms less low than thou. And yet thy boon I grant thee now: to Eilinel thou soon shalt go, and lie in her bed, no more to know or war -- or manhood. Have thy pay!"

With inhuman strength, Gorlim is drawn up and shoved into the arms of two waiting Orcs as Melkor again ascends his throne, speaking quietly with Sauron.

There was a hunting party that needed to be assembled...