Mairon stood looking at the devastation that the destruction of the Lamps had caused, biting his lower lip. He felt sick, and on the verge of tears. Around him, he could hear soft weeping of those mourning their lost home. There was talk of retreat, to the west.
All of this, his fault. He had supplied the information Melkor had needed, though he hadn't known just what the fallen Vala had planned. But if anyone found out…He would be an outcast, no one would be able to forgive him, least of all his lord, who's work it was that had been destroyed. He would be thrown out of Aulë's service, and Melkor would be angry with him…
Mairon wrapped his arms around himself. No, there was no going back for him now.
Apparently, it has become impossible for me to actually write a drabble. *sighs* And no, this isn't inspired by the Phantom of the Opera, but rather Evanescence's 'Oceans'.