Rhûn Darkmoon
The noonday sun shone down brightly upon the beauty of the Undying Lands. Even so, it was crisply cool beneath the canopy of dense forests that clothed the verdant valley through which a traveller now walked. A restless breeze rustled the leaves of the mighty oaks overhead and sent shimmering reflections dancing across the surface of the brook that gurgled alongside the path upon which Aulë Talka Marda trod.
The brightness of the day, even filtered as it was here in the depths of the forest, seemed to bother the mighty Ainu as he walked, for his eyes were mere slits in a face that was taut and grim. A hand went often to rub across his forehead as though to ease a pain there or perhaps to shade his eyes from the light.
'By Melkor's beard how I long for this journey to be over,' he muttered to himself as yet again he cast a longing backward glance. How he yearned for the dark solitude of those chambers which had become such a sweet home to him. Every step he took away from them was an agony as though he were forcing himself away from a lover he might never see again.
He thought yet again on the cause of his leaving, the necessity to make this journey to seek out his mighty brother Manwë and speak to him of the effrontery of his so called Herald. Treachery! Yes, treachery there was in the words and actions of that snarling cur Eonwë! While he, Aulë, had been doing important and urgent work to protect Aman from the dark magicks of Melkor, that yapping puppy had dared to challenge his loyalty and draw sword to him! Manwë must be made to see the true nature of the viper he held so close to his heart. Why, who knew what harm had already been done? Who knew what twisted words the Maia may have already whispered in his brother's so foolishly trusting ear?
Again the hand raised to his brow, the fingers kneeding against the tension that throbbed there. The action interrupted his thoughts enough that he became aware that his surroundings had changed. Unnoticed the valley with its deep forest had given way to more open rolling meadows. The light here was brighter still. Painfully he raised his eyes from the path before him and looked around. There in the near distance stood the golden spires of beautiful Valimar, with the towering majesty of Taniquetil standing tall and proud to the East.
Aulë grunted in satisfaction as he walked on. Soon he would put a stop to that puppy's scheming. Soon his brother would see the false heart behind the sweet words of his Herald and know him for what he truly was. Soon, with his duty done at last he would be able to return to that dark sanctuary beneath the Halls of Mandos. By Melkor's foul breath, make it soon!
Distant movement caught his eye. Aulë squinted his eyes against the brightness. There was someone there up ahead by the roadside. He blinked to bring the being into focus. Not a traveler, for they were not moving down the road, but rather just standing there. Aulë snorted to himself as he drew nearer. What fool just stands around by the roadside? He must be touched by the sun. Closer still he could see the figure to be one of the Vanyar, those who lived in Valimar. But what was the dolt doing standing out here in the middle of nowhere?
"Hail!" he greeted him once he was close enough. He could see now that the elf was one of Ingwë's royal guards, but what was the fellow doing out here? "You are a long way from your Lord,' he said, 'What brings you out here?"
The elf bowed deeply in respect. "Greetings, my Lord Aulë," he said, for the Maker was well known throughout Valinor. "I am sent to guard travelers upon this road, lest their curiosity draw them too close to yonder vile flowers." He indicated a patch of dark and blackened land by a nearby copse of trees. "Already we have lost two of our people to their mysterious poisons, and my Lord has ordered that none should be permitted to approach them, for their own safety's sake."
Aulë's gaze turned in the direction the guard indicated, taking in the charred ground and deadened trees upon the edge of the copse. He nodded to himself, for he had heard of these flowers and their deadly powers. He went to take a step forward, for he would see them closer, but the elf stepped in his path. "Nay, my Lord. You must not approach them!" he declared.
Aulë's brow darkened at the audacity of the elf. Who was he to tell Aulë Talka Marda, brother of the mighty Manwë Sulímo, Lord of the Breath of Creation and King of the West, what he can and cannot do! He stared down at the guard for long moments before turning his gaze again to the nearby blackened ground, in the midst of which the twisted tendrils bloomed. His eyes narrowed in thought. Perhaps here was a way to foil the machinations of that cur Eonwë. If he could end this evil, protect the Vanyar and others from this poisonous bloom, his actions might speak far more powerfully than the whispered words of a corrupt Herald.
He shook his head and gave a snort of bitter laughter under his breath. Was it not typical that it was left to him to find a solution to these things? While they panicked and chattered about what the flowers meant had no one thought to simply wall them in? Why post guards? Why even worry about their origins? If they were walled in, isolated, that did not matter any more. Yes, he would show his brother his loyalty. He would do this thing and then take great pleasure from the look on that arrogant Herald's face when he told him of it.
He turned his gaze again to the guard, seeing the efl's trepidation at having spoken so to one of the Valar. "Get you gone," he sneered. "Get you back to your Lord, and tell him there is no need to post guards on the road for I, Aulë Talka Marda, shall deal with this problem. Go you and hide beneath your Lord's kirtle like the rest of your spineless kind, and tell him that he may rest easy in his bed this night. Indeed, warm it for him too if you wish! But get you gone!"
Rooted to the spot the guard stared at Aulë speechless, for never had he heard one of the Valar speak so of his people. Seeing him standing there still, Aulë raised a hand as though to strike the elf, "Get you gone!" he roared.
With a hastily murmured, "As you wish, my Lord," the elf turned on his heel, his cheeks burning with the insult of the Maker's manner towards his people and his Lord. He took several steps away before turning back to stare at the tall Ainu, but Aulë had already forgotten him and stood staring at the blooms, his arms folded across his chest, deep in thought. With a disbelieving shake of his head the guard turned his feet towards Valimar, his thoughts deeply troubled.
Behind him, Aulë dropped his travel pack to the ground. This should be a relatively easy task, he thought to himself. The solution was so simple, why had none thought of it before? Wall them in. So easy. They would not spread, nor could any be drawn in and harmed. With a bark of laughter at the sweet simplicity of it, he slowly stripped off his traveling cloak and shirt. Such a small task would take him no time at all.
> Next
The brightness of the day, even filtered as it was here in the depths of the forest, seemed to bother the mighty Ainu as he walked, for his eyes were mere slits in a face that was taut and grim. A hand went often to rub across his forehead as though to ease a pain there or perhaps to shade his eyes from the light.
'By Melkor's beard how I long for this journey to be over,' he muttered to himself as yet again he cast a longing backward glance. How he yearned for the dark solitude of those chambers which had become such a sweet home to him. Every step he took away from them was an agony as though he were forcing himself away from a lover he might never see again.
He thought yet again on the cause of his leaving, the necessity to make this journey to seek out his mighty brother Manwë and speak to him of the effrontery of his so called Herald. Treachery! Yes, treachery there was in the words and actions of that snarling cur Eonwë! While he, Aulë, had been doing important and urgent work to protect Aman from the dark magicks of Melkor, that yapping puppy had dared to challenge his loyalty and draw sword to him! Manwë must be made to see the true nature of the viper he held so close to his heart. Why, who knew what harm had already been done? Who knew what twisted words the Maia may have already whispered in his brother's so foolishly trusting ear?
Again the hand raised to his brow, the fingers kneeding against the tension that throbbed there. The action interrupted his thoughts enough that he became aware that his surroundings had changed. Unnoticed the valley with its deep forest had given way to more open rolling meadows. The light here was brighter still. Painfully he raised his eyes from the path before him and looked around. There in the near distance stood the golden spires of beautiful Valimar, with the towering majesty of Taniquetil standing tall and proud to the East.
Aulë grunted in satisfaction as he walked on. Soon he would put a stop to that puppy's scheming. Soon his brother would see the false heart behind the sweet words of his Herald and know him for what he truly was. Soon, with his duty done at last he would be able to return to that dark sanctuary beneath the Halls of Mandos. By Melkor's foul breath, make it soon!
Distant movement caught his eye. Aulë squinted his eyes against the brightness. There was someone there up ahead by the roadside. He blinked to bring the being into focus. Not a traveler, for they were not moving down the road, but rather just standing there. Aulë snorted to himself as he drew nearer. What fool just stands around by the roadside? He must be touched by the sun. Closer still he could see the figure to be one of the Vanyar, those who lived in Valimar. But what was the dolt doing standing out here in the middle of nowhere?
"Hail!" he greeted him once he was close enough. He could see now that the elf was one of Ingwë's royal guards, but what was the fellow doing out here? "You are a long way from your Lord,' he said, 'What brings you out here?"
The elf bowed deeply in respect. "Greetings, my Lord Aulë," he said, for the Maker was well known throughout Valinor. "I am sent to guard travelers upon this road, lest their curiosity draw them too close to yonder vile flowers." He indicated a patch of dark and blackened land by a nearby copse of trees. "Already we have lost two of our people to their mysterious poisons, and my Lord has ordered that none should be permitted to approach them, for their own safety's sake."
Aulë's gaze turned in the direction the guard indicated, taking in the charred ground and deadened trees upon the edge of the copse. He nodded to himself, for he had heard of these flowers and their deadly powers. He went to take a step forward, for he would see them closer, but the elf stepped in his path. "Nay, my Lord. You must not approach them!" he declared.
Aulë's brow darkened at the audacity of the elf. Who was he to tell Aulë Talka Marda, brother of the mighty Manwë Sulímo, Lord of the Breath of Creation and King of the West, what he can and cannot do! He stared down at the guard for long moments before turning his gaze again to the nearby blackened ground, in the midst of which the twisted tendrils bloomed. His eyes narrowed in thought. Perhaps here was a way to foil the machinations of that cur Eonwë. If he could end this evil, protect the Vanyar and others from this poisonous bloom, his actions might speak far more powerfully than the whispered words of a corrupt Herald.
He shook his head and gave a snort of bitter laughter under his breath. Was it not typical that it was left to him to find a solution to these things? While they panicked and chattered about what the flowers meant had no one thought to simply wall them in? Why post guards? Why even worry about their origins? If they were walled in, isolated, that did not matter any more. Yes, he would show his brother his loyalty. He would do this thing and then take great pleasure from the look on that arrogant Herald's face when he told him of it.
He turned his gaze again to the guard, seeing the efl's trepidation at having spoken so to one of the Valar. "Get you gone," he sneered. "Get you back to your Lord, and tell him there is no need to post guards on the road for I, Aulë Talka Marda, shall deal with this problem. Go you and hide beneath your Lord's kirtle like the rest of your spineless kind, and tell him that he may rest easy in his bed this night. Indeed, warm it for him too if you wish! But get you gone!"
Rooted to the spot the guard stared at Aulë speechless, for never had he heard one of the Valar speak so of his people. Seeing him standing there still, Aulë raised a hand as though to strike the elf, "Get you gone!" he roared.
With a hastily murmured, "As you wish, my Lord," the elf turned on his heel, his cheeks burning with the insult of the Maker's manner towards his people and his Lord. He took several steps away before turning back to stare at the tall Ainu, but Aulë had already forgotten him and stood staring at the blooms, his arms folded across his chest, deep in thought. With a disbelieving shake of his head the guard turned his feet towards Valimar, his thoughts deeply troubled.
Behind him, Aulë dropped his travel pack to the ground. This should be a relatively easy task, he thought to himself. The solution was so simple, why had none thought of it before? Wall them in. So easy. They would not spread, nor could any be drawn in and harmed. With a bark of laughter at the sweet simplicity of it, he slowly stripped off his traveling cloak and shirt. Such a small task would take him no time at all.
> Next