Aule's Dilemma by Uvatha the Horseman  

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Mairon Falls under Melkor's Spell

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The Mansions of Aulë - Early First Age

All afternooon, the sun shone huge and hot.

Aulë played a major role in the sun's creation. He'd led the work on the infrastructure which enabled the sun to move across the sky and return to the east the next day. It was a massive project. To accomplish it, they'd worked in groups. Aulë had to talk to other people for hours at a time, which was hard. He was glad to return to his ordinary work.

-o-o-o-

Melkor left. Mairon watched him go, long after the others had returned to their work. Aulë tensed. His favorite servant, the sensible, responsible one, had just fallen into the grip of an infatuation.

A few days later, Rhosfindel stood beside Aulë's anvil, waiting for Aulë to finish. When Aulë lost the heat and put the iron back in the fire, Rhosfindel spoke. His voice was hesitant and quieter than usual.

"Master Aulë, I came to say goodbye. I'm leaving to join Lord Ulmo's household. I'm grateful for everything you've taught me.

But I want to swim in the warm waters, where rainbow-colored fish swim in gardens of coral and the sunlight filters through green forests of kelp."

Aulë set down his hammer. "Even if you leave here to live in the oceans, you'll still be an earth spirit. You'll be able to manage, but it will never come easily. You'll never quite fit in."

Rhosfindel left that afternoon. That evening, there was an empty place at the table and a lot of questions from the others, including, "Can I have his bed?" But Aulë hoped he would come back and held Rhosfindel's place open, at least for a little while.

-o-o-o-

Aulë was in the middle of casting something in molten silver when excited voices on the shop floor made him look up. In the middle of the shop floor stood Melkor, the Lord of the Valar. He was the most beautiful among them, in a curled-lip, cynical kind of way. Raven hair hung to his waist, and he wore a leather vest with nothing underneath. Three or four of Aulë's people clustered around him, glued to his every word and laughing at his jokes.

Melkor was poaching, recruiting other people's servants into his camp.

"Melkor, get away from my Maiar! You have plenty of your own." Aulë pushed between the Dark Lord and his own Maiar.

Melkor put his hands up. "Peace. We were just talking."

"Talk somewhere else," Aulë pointed at the door.

-o-o-o-

At a meeting of the Council, Lord Manwë announced, "Lord Ulmo's chief Maia, Ossë, left to follow Melkor. He's already left for Melkor's fortress at Utumno."

It was shocking, but it wasn't really a surprise. Ossë was wild and dangerous. Of all the Maiar, he was thought the most likely to join Melkor's camp.

Lord Ulmo joined the meeting just then. Your news is outdated. He's already decided he doesn't want to serve Melkor after all, and come back home."

-o-o-o-

A day or two later, Aulë came back to the Forge in late afternoon after everyone else had gone into the main house to wash up.

Raised voices just out of sight, clearly having some sort of argument.

Mairon's voice, but the words were indistinct.

Aulë rounded a corner into a dark alcove in the back of the shop floor. He looked in just in time to see Mairon with Melkor. Mairon stepped back with a guilty look.

Aulë picked up a hammer and advanced a step. "I told you to stay away from my Maiar. Now get out."

Melkor shrugged and swaggered off. Aulë felt sure that he'd be back.

"What was all that about?" said Aulë.

Mairon looked defiant. "We were just talking. He pays attention to me. He said I'm not like the others, that I'm special."

Aulë tried to be patient. "He's poaching. He's been recruiting Maiar from other households to increase the size of his own. To him, you're just a tally mark on a chalkboard."

Mairon stared back defiantly, but said nothing. Aulë gave up. It was exhausting trying to argue with someone so stubborn.

"Go inside and wash up. We'll talk later."

-o-o-o-

A week went by without incident. Aulë thought the storm had passed.

Aulë was working with a student when he heard a piece of iron hit the paving stones. Mairon cursed and plunged his hand into the quench barrel. The sudden motion drew Aulë's attention.

"What happened?" asked Aulë.

"I touched grey metal. I set something aside to cool and picked it up too soon." Aulë pulled Mairon's hand out of the water and checked the damage. Blisters were forming on his fingertips.

"You've been making mistakes all morning. Come outside with me."

Aulë steered him to a bench against the wall and made him sit, then sat beside him. And waited. Mairon studied his burned hand. The silence was oppressive.

Mairon broke first. "After you told Melkor to leave, I didn't tell you, but he kept coming around to pester me. It was annoying, and I wanted him to stop. But in the last week or so, he hasn't come around. I hear he's trying to recruit Ossë. I'm so confused. I never wanted him pestering me, but now that he's moved on, the jealousy is eating me alive."

Aulë put an arm around his shoulders. "It's for the best, lad. He's trouble. You don't belong with him."

-o-o-o-

Scarcely a month later, the main door opened, and light poured into the Forge. Cries of greeting rang across the shop floor. "Hey, look who's here!" "You came back!" Aulë laid down his hammer and went to look.

A bedraggled-looking Rhosfindel stood in the doorway. His clothes were damp, and so was the bundle he carried. Strands of seaweed tangled in his hair. He looked miserable.

Aulë put on a stern face and crossed his arms. "What happened to your visions of coral gardens and forests of kelp?"

"It was more like sheets of ice in the far North, a horrifying mid-ocean storm, and the bottomless depths where nameless creatures lie. Horrible things like gigantic slugs with spines. I can't tell you whether they're carnivorous. I didn't wait to find out.

"But the worst of it was, everyone there was a water spirit. It was clear early on that I would never be one of them. You said I could always come back if it didn't work out. Did you mean it?"

Aulë clapped an arm around his shoulders and steered him toward the house. "Your bed and your place at the table are still there. Go get settled, then come see me in the Forge. I'm drifting a hole and I need someone to be my third hand."

-o-o-o-

In the days that followed, Mairon seemed unusually cheerful, as if pleased about something known only to himself. Then, late in the afternoon, he approached Aulë, looking apprehensive but determined.

"I came to say goodbye. I've agreed to join Melkor's household."

Aulë turned his back on his favorite servant and resumed his work.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Mairon asked.

"You know what I think. That you're making a mistake. I don't know what he promised you, but he's untrustworthy. And if you think you're going to be as important in his household as you are here, you're wrong. Kosomot will always be his Chief Maia."

"Aren't you going to say goodbye?" The silence stretched on longer than was comfortable. Finally, Mairon turned and walked away.

Aulë called after him, "Wait! If I don't see you again, take care of yourself."

There was an empty place at the table at supper that evening. Aulë was glad he didn't have to explain what it meant. Every one of his people already knew.

Curumo, still standing, hovered between the empty place and his own. "I assume I'm Chief Maia now, so I should sit at your right hand?" He sounded way too eager.

Aulë was too tired to decide. "Just leave it for now. Leave all of his things as they were. I want to hold his place open in case he ever comes back."