Rhûn Darkmoon
The fire burns low in the hearth of the great chamber. The hour is late, although none could tell in the chamber for so deep is it underground that the light of day never touches its walls. Nor really is the light of day here in Aman ever more than a gentle twilight. Yet mortal bodies have their cycles and needs, and while most are well asleep at this time of night, one stirs restlessly.
Here in this chamber, where a slight form rests beneath the silken covers of the bed, the tall, muscular person of Aulë Talka Marda paces restlessly. He pauses in his pacing and glances to the sleeping form on the bed, so small as to almost be lost among the covers of so large a bed as he required. "Nienna," he breathes her name softly, so as not to disturb her.
How long had they been here together now? The furrow in his brow deepened as he tried to recall. It seemed so long ago now since they had met by chance upon the road to Valimar. Since he had brought her to this chamber his world had shrunk to the limits of these rough stone walls. He lifted his eyes and let his gaze wander over them lovingly. Here was sanctuary. Away from doubt and disloyalty. Away from constantly having to prove himself worthy. Away from lies and treachery.
His feet resume their relentless pacing as his thoughts turn to the outside world again. Had he not served the Lord of the West loyally all these Ages? Had he not laboured to build the world as they knew it? What had he ever done that his integrity would be questioned so? Who indeed were they to question him at all!
He raises a hand to his brow, rubbing it unthinkingly, as though trying to dispel the thoughts that swirled within. No. No, he must not dwell on outside, on "them." Again he glanced around the chamber, as though reaffirming faith with a lover. Here is where he belonged. This was his life now. This chamber was home, and the woman in the bed was his. Sweet, trusting and guileless, Nienna was all that he needed now.
He paused a moment and stared into the fire, his arms crossed. So why then was he awake when all the world slept? "Because you remember, don't you?" the words whispered through his mind. "Because you remember there was once a life more than this, but now you are mine and shall know the life that I knew." The words trailed off in a roar of malicious laughter. Aulë started from his reverie and looked around the room for the speaker, but no one was there. The desultory crackle of the dying fire was all that could be heard in the room. Nienna had not stirred.
Aulë shook his head to clear it. "You are going mad in your old age, Maker," he muttered to himself, rubbing his brow again. He padded to the bed, his bare feet making no sound upon the soft carpets that surrounded it. Perhaps sleep would help dispel his mood, and later, later there would be Nienna. The creases around his eyes softened a little at the thought. He eased his body onto the bed beside her. Careful not to disturb her slumbers, he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her warm and soft against him. In time, he slept. If his dreams echoed with malicious laughter, who was to say if it were dream or reality.
> Next
Here in this chamber, where a slight form rests beneath the silken covers of the bed, the tall, muscular person of Aulë Talka Marda paces restlessly. He pauses in his pacing and glances to the sleeping form on the bed, so small as to almost be lost among the covers of so large a bed as he required. "Nienna," he breathes her name softly, so as not to disturb her.
How long had they been here together now? The furrow in his brow deepened as he tried to recall. It seemed so long ago now since they had met by chance upon the road to Valimar. Since he had brought her to this chamber his world had shrunk to the limits of these rough stone walls. He lifted his eyes and let his gaze wander over them lovingly. Here was sanctuary. Away from doubt and disloyalty. Away from constantly having to prove himself worthy. Away from lies and treachery.
His feet resume their relentless pacing as his thoughts turn to the outside world again. Had he not served the Lord of the West loyally all these Ages? Had he not laboured to build the world as they knew it? What had he ever done that his integrity would be questioned so? Who indeed were they to question him at all!
He raises a hand to his brow, rubbing it unthinkingly, as though trying to dispel the thoughts that swirled within. No. No, he must not dwell on outside, on "them." Again he glanced around the chamber, as though reaffirming faith with a lover. Here is where he belonged. This was his life now. This chamber was home, and the woman in the bed was his. Sweet, trusting and guileless, Nienna was all that he needed now.
He paused a moment and stared into the fire, his arms crossed. So why then was he awake when all the world slept? "Because you remember, don't you?" the words whispered through his mind. "Because you remember there was once a life more than this, but now you are mine and shall know the life that I knew." The words trailed off in a roar of malicious laughter. Aulë started from his reverie and looked around the room for the speaker, but no one was there. The desultory crackle of the dying fire was all that could be heard in the room. Nienna had not stirred.
Aulë shook his head to clear it. "You are going mad in your old age, Maker," he muttered to himself, rubbing his brow again. He padded to the bed, his bare feet making no sound upon the soft carpets that surrounded it. Perhaps sleep would help dispel his mood, and later, later there would be Nienna. The creases around his eyes softened a little at the thought. He eased his body onto the bed beside her. Careful not to disturb her slumbers, he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her warm and soft against him. In time, he slept. If his dreams echoed with malicious laughter, who was to say if it were dream or reality.
> Next