Aule's Dilemma by Uvatha the Horseman  

There Must be Another Way

The Mansions of Aulë - Present Day (TA 3018)

Aulë secured his notes in the Vault, then gathered tools by the armload and dumped them on the hearth, leaving the tongs tangled together, uncleaned and unsorted. He returned the Ring to its pouch and left it on the desk.

     There must be another way.

Yesterday evening, when he was pleading for Mairon's life, he'd said, "What if I held the threat of Unmaking over his head to guarantee his good behavior?" It was worth a try. It might even work if he could figure out how to pull it off. Lord Manwë wasn't here to tell him no.

After full darkness, his people returned from Market Day, well-fed and laden with their purchases. Several of them voiced the opinion that Lord Aulë should work on secret projects more often. That was hours ago. Most of them were asleep now.

Aulë sat at the long dining table, the nib of his pen hovering over a scrap of paper. He didn't know what to say. This was his first attempt to contact Mairon since his apprentice had left to follow Melkor. He knew he was was taking a risk. He hadn't been specifically forbidden to enter into secret communications with the defeated Enemy's second-in-command, but he knew it would look bad it he were caught.

He wanted to tell Mairon,

     Stay quiet, and I'll cover for you as long as I can,

He might include a schematic drawing to show that he understood the design, although even without it, Mairon would assume as much.

Unfortunately, he couldn't speak plainly. If the letter were intercepted, people would assume Aulë was tipping off a convicted felon to help him escape justice. Which was exactly what Aulë was trying to do. If he were caught, he knew he could be charged with helping a condemned criminal escape justice.

Suppose he phrased it as a threat, the tone cruel and gloating.

     I have the Ring. It was brought to me to unmake. 
     The next time you put so much as a toe over the line, I'll melt it down for scrap gold."

Not good enough. Gloating tone or not, it was still obvious he was tipping off a convicted felon. The message had to contain instructions for Mairon to save himself, but phrased in a way that wasn't obvious on first reading.

Aulë filled the scrap of paper with crossed-out sentences and word substitutions until no white space remained, then turned it over and filled up the back.

He wasn't completely satisfied with any of his attempts, but he picked one that worked reasonably well. At first glance, it read like a threat, boastful and gloating. That was intentional. If he were caught, he wouldn't seem to be helping the enemy. He worried that the hidden message was so subtle it would go unnoticed. But Mairon was smart; he would figure it out.

Aulë found a sheet of good parchment and wrote a fair copy from the draft. After the ink dried, he folded the sheet into thirds in one direction and then the other, forming a tight square bundle. He held the stamp over the cooling wax for a time, but then set it aside.

He hadn't signed the letter, so he wouldn't seal it. The wax hardened. He turned the letter over and printed Mairon in careful block letters on the back of the parchment bundle.

Manwë had said it was impossible to get a message into Barad-dûr, but he hadn't considered other ways it might be done. There was a small hilltop fortress, Dol Guldur, in the forests of Mirkwood. It belonged to the Ring's master, and it was much more accessible than his main fortress. Surely he had servants there who could forward a message.

Yavanna came in just as he was burning the rough drafts in the fireplace. Her green dress bloused over a silver belt, and the embroidered hem swept the tops of her bare feet.

She raised an eyebrow. "You're burning the drafts? Is it a secret correspondence?"

He put a finger to his lips and motioned her to close the door.

"Yes, very."

When he showed her who the letter was for, she clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes went wide. "Why on earth do you need to write to him all of a sudden?" she asked.

"It doesn't matter. When next you cross the sea to tend to your forests and meadows, can you go to Mirkwood first, to Dol Guldur, and give this letter to someone there? They'll know how to get it to Mairon. Tell them it's urgent."

"I was planning to go in a few days. Will that be soon enough?"

"Can you leave tonight? I need Mairon to see this right away."