Aule's Dilemma by Uvatha the Horseman  

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Manwe Pressures Aule

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The Mansions of Aulë - Present Day (TA 3018)

Light from the oil lamps fell on the murals in the dining room, making them shimmer and almost bringing the figures to life. The evening meal had been cleared away, and the new arrivals were in the kitchens, learning how to do the washing up. For the first time since Manwë brought him the Ring to destroy, Aulë was enjoying a quiet evening at the long table, playing cards or board games with his people. This was where he spent time with his Maiar outside of work or classes, and heard their dreams and concerns.

He spilled the four dice out of the dice cup onto the dining room table. Three landed in the center of the table, with a high number of pips showing. The fourth die bounced over the far edge of the table and hit the floor. One of the young people crawled under the table to find it. "It's a one, Master Aulë. Mahtan still has the lead."

One of Aulë's junior apprentices appeared in the doorway from the front hall. "Master Aulë? I hate to interrupt your game, but Lord Manwë requests your attendance in the courtyard as soon as you can."

Lord Manwë stood outside in the deepening twilight. "We need to talk."

Aulë's mouth went dry. He'd gotten Manwë's servant drunk at the Festival and pumped him for information. Although it was unlikely, Eönwë remembered much of their conversation.

"We'll talk inside the Vault." Manwë strode across the courtyard. Whatever this was about, it wasn't about Eönwë.

"I looked for you in the Forge before I tried the house. I was surprised you weren't working this evening." Lord Manwë's tone was mild, matter-of-fact. Aulë hadn't been working on the day of the Festival either. Manwë surely knew that, as they'd both been there.

Aulë's mind raced. He knew. He must know. Aulë had quit the project.

Aulë cringed. Until recently, he'd taken pride in being truthful and following the rules, unless you counted that incident with the Dwarves. Sometimes a white lie and good intentions can spiral out of control.

They entered the darkened Forge, still smelling of wood smoke from the day's classes. Lord Manwë crossed the shop floor to the Vault, then stepped aside to let Aulë open it. Aulë struggled to find the door behind the concealment spell, finally locating the door jamb by touch. He hadn't opened the Vault since before the Festival and had forgotten what he'd done to seal it. It took four or five tries to break the enchantment.

The door finally swung open. Manwë went in first. Once they were both inside, he sat on the edge of Aulë's desk as if he owned it, and said, "Bolt the door."

Aulë saw him looking around the room. He must have noticed the swept-out hearth, the tools put away, the chalkboard wiped clean. If Aulë had been working in here, there would have been tongs on the hearth, jigs and metal plates on the workbench, and drawings spread out on every flat surface.

Manwë said, "May I see the Ring?"

Aulë retrieved the leather bag from a shelf and spilled it onto the workbench. It sat there, changing in size almost imperceptibly, as if it were breathing.

"It looks alive," said Manwë.

"In some ways, it is."

"Does it understand what we're saying? Should we be talking in front of it about what will happen to it?" Manwë peered at it.

"I don't think it understands words, but it seems to pick up on tone."

Aulë felt like the Ring was focused on him, as still and watchful as a predator. He wondered how much it knew. It seemed to be frightened, but like its master, it was no coward.

Manwë said, "I came here tonight because…"

"Stop that!" Aulë jumped up and smacked the surface of the workbench, hard.

"What?" Manwë's eyes were round, and his hand flew to the hilt of an imaginary sword.

"Not you. The Ring was acting out again." Aulë put it back in its pouch and returned it to the high shelf.

Manwë returned to his perch on the desk. "Right. I'm here because I just learned your former servant is about to invade Gondor. Unless he's stopped, countless people will die. We need to act right away. How close are you to finished?"

"It was more complicated than expected. I haven't unraveled all of it, so it's taking longer than…" Aulë realized he was babbling.

"Then I assume you're run into a snag that's halted the work, and you're embarrassed to say so?"

I have to develop some safety procedures. The Unmaking will be dangerous. It might release a great deal of power all at once…"

"You've worked on dangerous projects before. Aulë. Look at me. As of right now, do you know enough to unmake the Ring?"

Aulë's face burned. He hated to be caught in a lie, even a lie of omission. "I finished last week. I could unmake it at any time. I just need to write the procedure and gather the tools."

Manwë looked stunned. "You could do it now? That's the best possible news! Why didn't you tell me as soon as you were done?"

Aulë got up and found the note in his desk drawer. "I meant to give this to you, but I forgot to bring it to the Festival."

"Tell me what's going on." Manwë spoke gently.

Aulë got up abruptly and paced in the small room. "I'm not happy about doing it. I don't want to hurt Mairon. If I unmake his Ring, he'll lose his physical form forever. He'll be crippled it a way that can't be healed."

"Is that so terrible? Your servant Mairon, more recently known as Sauron Gorthaur, was tried in absentia and sentenced to be sealed in a prison cell forever, or worse, cast into the Pit. This way, he's still free but not able to do anything harmful. I know it's hard. Sometimes we have to do things that are hard."

Manwë looked off in the distance. "I gave the order to send Melkor, my own brother, to the Pit. I hated having to do it, but he was too dangerous to leave alive. I deeply regret that I didn't act sooner. I should never have let it go so long."

"Maybe there's another way. What if I claim it for myself and use it to enslave him? Or held the threat of Unmaking over his head to gain his good behavior?" Aulë knew he was grasping at straws.

Manwë looked tired. "How would you get a message to him? Even the Valar couldn't breach the walls of his fortress. I'm sorry, but he's one of your people, and yours to deal with. I know you want to save him, but he's too far gone for that."

Manwë changed tacks. "Speaking hypothetically, what safety precautions would you take for the Unmaking?"

"I'd clear the premises before I began, probably first thing in the morning. I'd send everyone to Valmar for the day."

Manwë looked thoughtful. "Tomorrow is market day. They'd thank you for the day off. What if someone came back, say, because they forgot something?"

"I'd post guards on the road between the Mansions and Valmar. Rhosfindel and Celebtan, they're the most senior of my Maia. I'd post them where the road enters the woods. It's sufficiently far from the Mansions."

"Would you set up in this space, or outside?"

"Outside at the demo forges would be safer. If a blast wave collapsed the buildings, I'd prefer to be outside."

Manwë prompted him to describe how he'd gather and arrange the tools, lay out the instructions, light the fires, and go through the entire process. When he was done, Aulë could envision every step of the Unmaking as clearly as if he'd already done it.

Without ever knowing quite how it happened, Aulë realized he'd agreed to d0 the Unmaking the following day.

he'd committed to do the Unmaking the following morning.