Rhûn Darkmoon and AelKennyr Rhiano
"In Valinor doth Irmo dwell,
Come, refresh thyself at the fountain of Este!
Still your soul beside, where fair Lórien resides.
Drink deep, sit still and dream!
Forget thou thy care, forget thy discomfort.
Forget thou there thy mortality.
Settle in, settle in, settle in, child of Eru.
For in Lórien, life is but an eternity..."
Ulmo's deep voice carries the tune, rolling like the waves upon the sea, steady and sure. He ends the song and lifts his gaze toward Valinor, hearing beside him the steady tread of the Maker, heavy upon the ground. Frowning he looks over and down, watching as Aule makes each booted step. For his part, Ulmo, Lord of the Waters of the World, passes lightly above the grass created and brought into being by the Lady of all Things Growing. He moves though the world as he moves through his seas, his hair floating upon the currents of air about his face. The song, once sung by the fisherfolk of the second born hangs in the air and is disrupted by the call of an angry bird close by. 
"How many toes do you have?" he asks Aule suddenly.
Aule strides through the gentle twilight of Aman looking about him as though seeing the world for the first time. It seems to him that he cannot recall a time he had been away from the chamber, let alone left Mandos, that it has not called to him, tug at him mercilessly until he craves nothing but to return there. Now, there is only utter silence. No call. No tug. No craving. Just.. silence. In comparison the world around him seems to rush and surge with bustle and noise. With the newfound quiet in his mind, the rustle of breeze through the pines, the scurry of living things in the forest, the melodious singing of his companion, his own footsteps, his very drawing of breath - all seemed to swirl around him, so aware was he of it all.
Aule starts a little at Ulmo's sudden question. He turns to look at his brother Vala, his lips curling up bemusedly as he answers, "How many toes? Why the same as you I would think, ten of course."
Ulmo's eyebrows rise, and he looks down at one of Aule's feet and then to his own bare feet. Large and squarish, and unformed, unfinished, the toes not separate, but lumpish, as though carved from clay not yet baked. There are no nails on them, nor instep or arch. "Ten," he replies to himself, the word rumbling deep in his chest. "I have five on each foot. I patterned them after the feet of the Teleri. I have seen those." He glides besides his brother Vala, his face deep in thought. "I have sometimes wondered why five upon each foot. And there is something atop each digit of the foot. Not skin. It is on their fingers, too." He stretches out his hand to show his brother his fingernails. 
Like his feet, his hands are larger, the fingers thick as sausages and very long. "Wondrous is the mind of Eru to create such things. But I marvel at this coincidence of numbers. Fives toes, five fingers...but only two eyes, two ears. Most strange, most strange." 
Aule scratches the back of his head, even more bemused that here is Ulmo, of all the Valar second in might only to Manwe himself, perplexed at the simple workings of a mortal body. "They are there for a reason. The numbers seem right when you use such a body long enough, truly use it, rather than just don its form for a short time." He pauses and looks down at Ulmo's feet and then nudges him lightly with his shoulder as he continues. "Of course, it helps if you shape the form right in the first place. Then it might work properly and you would understand it better."
"Use, yes," Ulmo replies, waving his overlarge hand in further answer. About them, birds call softly to each other, and the wind rises, bringing with it the smells from all over the whole of Eru's creation, all floating upon the air, mingling together. Ulmo draws in a breath and savors the salty ocean that is there, among the other things. "These bodies have their uses, I suppose, " He continues, gliding beside his brother. "I have watched the Children, as they sail upon my waters. I have seen them as they go about ..'using' these bodies. I still wonder though, at two hands. Some creatures of the deep ocean have many appendages, and those appear to be most useful, most efficient." He lapses into a companionable silence for a few moments, occasionally allowing a foot to stamp heavily upon the ground. "Hmm," he said after the first time, and strikes his foot heavily against the ground again, not noticing the tremble that runs through the ground in response. All about them birds and animals, startled, flee swiftly. "Hmmm."
Aule's voice trails away and the smile slides from his face at the memories that name evokes. "I.." he begins again and then falls silent, uncertain of what to say.
Ulmo had lifted his foot for another stomp but stops in mid-motion at the change of tone in Aule's voice. He lowers his leg and turns his attention to the Smith, blue eyes narrowing as he studies the face of the Vala beside him. The smile has faded from the lips of the Smith as it has faded from his voice. The brow is heavy and furrowed, and there are tight lines about his eyes, which seem, to the Lord of the West to not shine as clearly as he recalls they have in ages past. The words of the Lord of the West come back to him now, and he folds his overlarge hands behind his back as he gives a measured answer, "Nienna," he says, softly, "the Vala of Compassion." He gives a slow nod. "I am sure she was honored that a brother Vala spent time with her to help her understand the Children better." His words are slow and said with great deliberation, his blue eyes steady in their gaze. "For she is the only one to whom they come when they need their weariness unburdened." Aule lifts his eyes to look at Ulmo. The eyes looking back at him are as blue and as unfathomable as the oceans over which his brother Vala rules. Questions tumble through his mind as they have never done before and suddenly begin to fall from his tongue, "How is it that the Lady has been expected to ease the sorrow of the Children throughout the Ages, when she has had nothing by which to understand them by? How.. how is it that any of us think we know what is best for them when we have not lived lives as they do, struggled and hurt, worked and rejoiced, as they do? What makes us better than they, that we should know and have that power? Do you know what it is to work until your hands are blistered as they do? Do you know what it is weary and grow old as they do?"
He pauses and his voice softens. "Do you know the feel of a newborn babe in your arms, or the joy as you watch that babe grow to be a son to be proud of? Do you know a lover's touch, brother? Not the noble love we share with our spouses, but a true lover's touch. How can you, when you cannot even shape your hands and feet right? We are Valar, so mighty and powerful, yet.. yet so empty of life." Again he pauses, taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a long sigh. "I... I used to think I knew who I was, and what I was doing. Now I wonder if any of us do."
As the Lord of the Waters listens to Aule's response, he feels an emptiness, low in this physical body, uncomfortable and tight, and in response, unthinkingly, he places a hand upon his belly. Beneath his touch, his stomach churns and gurgles, and he looks down at it, an eyebrow raised, even as his mind churns, like silt on the ocean floor when stirred by turbulent currents. So much has occurred, and so little does the Lord of the Waters understand of how such events could come to be. When, he thinks, when did we become of this world? And if we are, what means this for the Children of Eru. What means it for us? In that moment, Ulmo conceives of himself as an "us," as part of an "us" that is not part of the mind of Eru.
And in that moment, the mind of Ulmo trembles. For a moment, the blue eyes close, and Ulmo reaches out, reaches out to touch the warm presence of Manwe, turning like fish do in the ocean when they find a warmer current of sea. He reaches out for the gruff feel of Tulkas, raspy and gritty and solid. He reaches out for Yavanna... His blue eyes open, and he looks back over at Aule. No, he has no right to reach out to Yavanna, when here stands Aule, talking like one of the Children, brown eyes cloudy as his judgment. He turns to his brother Vala and moves towards him, bare inches between them. "Once Melian the Maia took for husband one of the Children. She cleaved unto him, in the matter of the Firstborn and sealed his heart to hers. Children she bore, children she gave him, of Maia and Firstborn blood. His spirit was sundered from his body, and he went to the Halls of Mandos, forever apart from her." His blue eyes glitter as he speaks. "But never think, Mahal, that she knew any better what it was like to live a Child of Eru any more than you or I. " He crosses his arms over his chest. 
"Olwe of Alqualonde has given his heart, his love unto the Maia Tilion. Such is his love, that when he was nigh at Mandos' entrance, he fought and yelled for his Beloved and would not seek entrance. For he would rather wander a shade than be parted from the Maia." He draws in a deep breath as, in the mortal world, that same Olwe sails upon a swanship toward Sylvhara, in direct opposition to Ulmo's words. "But, Smith, seek not the Steersman of the Moon for knowledge of the struggles within Olwe's heart. For he knows them not." 
He rests a huge hand upon Aule's chest. "WE are the Valar! We are not here to become fledgling gods, nor are we to become as the Children ourselves. We sung the Song of Making. We are the instruments of Creation. Empty of life, you say, yet all life sings in us, through us and will be with us so long as the world turns...and even after. " His voice softens, and he raises his hand to rest upon the shoulder of the Maker. "All the sea is my newborn, all the creatures my lovers and my children. And like children born to the Children, they have come through us, and not OF us." 
Aule listens to Ulmo's words, his eyes dark and thoughtful. He is silent for some time after his brother finishes speaking, and then he looks down at the hand upon his shoulder and back into the other eyes as he says, "You speak fine words, brother, but in truth we are no better than dried up old crones who have long ago given birth and raised her brood and now seeks to find purpose in mundane things and past joys." His jaw set, he shrugs Ulmo's hand from his shoulder and resumes their journey, for he sees Lorien is close. He calls back over his shoulder, "You speak as you do, for you only don that form as the Children don clothing. It means no more to you than that. Trying living in it, brother and then speak to me again of our purpose. Live it: don't just tell me pretty tales of what others have done. Live it and tell me then what it is YOU do." With a snort of disgust, Aule turns the final corner in the road, and there before him lies Lorien in all its beauty.
