He had been struck. Love flooded him and drowned all reason. The arrow disappeared once it had done its duty and there was not even a wound left behind. Not that Maedhros would have noticed. His gaze was fixed on a beauty that was both familiar and...not.

"Sauron?" he frowned at the name, knowing it was negative and thus utterly unsuitable, "Tell me another name. I do not care for that one." his gaze was intense, searching the Maia's face.

Did this ethereal being feel as he did? What if he did not? His heart throbbed in his chest and he felt like an Elfling all over again. Then again, where romance was concerned, he practically was an Elfling. Maedhros had never indulged in such - at least not overmuch - and now he was certain - he knew to his core - that he was in love.