What if Mairon turned back into a wolf after fleeing to Taur-na-Fuin because a wolf's body healed more quickly? And he also remained in that form for the entire period of his recovery.
Melkor insisted that Mairon remain in his personal bedchambers, wanting to keep a constant eye on him and ensure that he was recovering properly. It was not the first time Mairon had lain upon Melkor's bed, nor even the first time he had done so in the shape of a wolf. He often enjoyed curling up beside his master, in order to share his warmth. But this time was different, because now it was Mairon who needed care.
Every evening Melkor would return to him and speak of how the day had passed, what news had arrived, and how the war progressed. He would tell him about the councils held with his captains and ask for his opinion on the plans they had discussed. Sometimes he would complain about the incompetence of his servants, but more often he would boast of the victories that awaited them and the terrible suffering that would inevitably befall their enemies. And all the while he would stroke Mairon's fur or scratch him behind the ears.
It was an unusual period in their relationship. Mairon disliked being weak, he disliked being unable to serve, unable to work, unable to be useful to his king. Yet despite all of that, he remembered those days with fondness. Years later, Mairon would still remember the warmth of the chamber, the sound of Melkor's low, soothing voice, and the feeling of his hand moving slowly through his fur.
