[ Melkor is again as once he was, handsome, square-jawed, his long dark hair gathered into an intricate plait let to fall forward over his broad shoulder. He is tall and broad enough to be imposing just by virtue of his presence; for he can move again unmarked, only the black oilslick of his mind to give him away a half-second before his body does, both brushing just faintly against the edges of Mairon's senses.

His rough fingertips touch Mairon's elbow, plucking neatly at the fabric that hides skin from him. ]

The darkness here only makes you seem more fair, by comparison, Mairon.