by Rhun Darkmoon
Aulë strides through the Garden of Lorien, oblivious to the beauty that surrounds him. Unnoticed is the delicate scent of the tiny plants that carpet the ground and rises at each footstep he takes. Unnoticed is the elegant curve and sweep of the trees he walks beneath. Unnoticed too, Ulmo fades into the distance behind bush and flowering shrub as Aulë walks on alone.
As he walks, he lifts his hand to rub his brow in that gesture that had become so much a part of him in recent times. Go to Lorien, he has been told by Manwë and to Lorien he has come. "I am here," he mutters to himself, kicking at the ground with a booted foot in a gesture that would not be out of place on a chastened child of Middle Earth. "I am here!" he calls louder, his voice reverberating around the surrounding forest, an unnaturally loud intrusion upon the tranquility of the Garden. He waits as though listening, but there is no answer.
With an impatient click of his tongue and another kick at the ground for good measure, he strides deeper into the Garden, uncaring where his feet lead him. Where they lead him though, is to the shores of the Lake. Absorbed in his thoughts he looks up startled to find his way blocked by the body of water. For a moment he contemplates it, looking around for a means to bypass it, but it stretches deep into the forests on either side. With a sigh he sits against the base of a towering pine to wait, although he knows not what it is he must wait for.
Although his body is now still, his mind is restless, picking up and toying with snatches of his conversation with Ulmo, turning the words over and looking at them before discarding them like a child who cannot work out where this piece goes in a puzzle and so picks up another. Time and time again it is drawn to one piece. "I used to think I knew who I was, and what I was doing." he had said to Ulmo.
"Well, I certainly don't know what I'm doing now," he mutters to himself and picks idly at the ground. His hand pauses and reaches for a nearby bloom. He plucks it by the stalk, and twirls it in his fingers, glancing up to see that the delicate blue flower in his hand is only one of a thick array that carpet the forest floor around him. He lifts the bloom to his nose, inhaling deeply of its sweet summery perfume as he leans back more against the tree, stretching his legs out before him. He takes another deep breath and closes his eyes as he leans back against the tree.
The scent of the tiny bloom is strong in his nostrils, and that restless mind now wings back through the Ages to another forest and the day this bloom first came into being. He had cradled her in his arms among the forest ferns, her body warm and soft from their lovemaking, all ivory skin and shining fair hair, her lips curved into a soft smile as she looked up at him with those amazing emerald eyes of hers. So many times their duties took them on separate paths, but always the ache was there, drawing them back to each other. Wistfully, she had said she never wanted to forget that day, and so he had created upon her skin a delicate array of ferns and leaves so she would always remember it. He remembers her sweet blushes as his hand had traced the curves of her body, from flank to bosom, up her long shapely neck and across her delicately curving cheek as he created his artwork upon her skin.
Tracing the outline of his lips with a long elegant finger, she in turn had said she wanted him always to remember her, wherever he roamed. With a mere thought she had created the delicate blue blooms, imbued them with her scent and scattered them across the forest floor around them, bidding them spread throughout Aman and Middle Earth and carry always the message to "Forget Me Not" to her Aulë, wherever he may be. His heart squeezing tightly in his chest with the force of his love for her, he had leaned down to whisper against her ear, "But for now I am here, wife. I am here."
Passionately they had made love again among the ferns on the forest floor, the delicate blue blooms sending up their heady scent as they were crushed beneath their bodies. Their love had swirled around them that day like a tangible thing, mixed forever now in his memory with the sweet scent of the tiny blue flowers.
"I am here," he had told her. "I am here," he had called today to no one in particular. "I am here!" The words burst from his lips as his eyes flew open. "By Eru's Light, I am here!"
Around him the serenity of Lorien seems to shimmer and shatter, torn apart as a whirlwind of emotions and memories comes crashing down on him. Clearly now he sees the doubt that has festered for so long inside, the doubt that Melkor's dark magic had taken and twisted into something more, something darker. Images swirl through his mind; the letter from Yavanna; meeting Nienna on the road to Taniquetil and-- Eru, forgive him -- returning with her to Mandos; the confrontation there with Eonwë. "Traitor!" he had called him and well he might. Clearly now, so clearly now, he sees the compassion in Manwë's eyes as he had listened and believed in him - yes, BELIEVED in him-- putting lie to the doubt that had festered for so long like a poison seed in Aulë's heart. Clearly too, although by Eru he wishes it were not, he sees again the hurt and betrayal in Yavanna's eyes as she turned and walked away from him.
"NO!" The swirling images shatter and fall from his mind leaving nothing but the image of those eyes, her beautiful emerald eyes so filled with pain. Shaken, he looks around him and is surprised to see all as it was. A swan and its mate float majestically past upon the lake. A light breeze plays quietly among the leaves of the forest, lifting a tendril of his long dark hair and tickling it against his cheek. His dark eyes are clear and bright in a way they have not been since first he stepped into that dread chamber. His brow is clear, and his head no longer aches. As the magic borne of Melkor's hate and jealousy had taken the darkness within him and twisted it, so now has the Garden of Lorien taken the deep abiding love within him and opened his eyes and his heart to the truth.
He looks about him desperately. "Yavanna!" Her name is a whisper upon his lips. "I am here! Yavanna!" his voice is louder and more urgent as he springs to his feet, knowing in his heart what he must do. "Please, Eru, do not let it be too late! Yavanna!"
"Well, I certainly don't know what I'm doing now," he mutters to himself and picks idly at the ground. His hand pauses and reaches for a nearby bloom. He plucks it by the stalk, and twirls it in his fingers, glancing up to see that the delicate blue flower in his hand is only one of a thick array that carpet the forest floor around him. He lifts the bloom to his nose, inhaling deeply of its sweet summery perfume as he leans back more against the tree, stretching his legs out before him. He takes another deep breath and closes his eyes as he leans back against the tree.
The scent of the tiny bloom is strong in his nostrils, and that restless mind now wings back through the Ages to another forest and the day this bloom first came into being. He had cradled her in his arms among the forest ferns, her body warm and soft from their lovemaking, all ivory skin and shining fair hair, her lips curved into a soft smile as she looked up at him with those amazing emerald eyes of hers. So many times their duties took them on separate paths, but always the ache was there, drawing them back to each other. Wistfully, she had said she never wanted to forget that day, and so he had created upon her skin a delicate array of ferns and leaves so she would always remember it. He remembers her sweet blushes as his hand had traced the curves of her body, from flank to bosom, up her long shapely neck and across her delicately curving cheek as he created his artwork upon her skin.
Tracing the outline of his lips with a long elegant finger, she in turn had said she wanted him always to remember her, wherever he roamed. With a mere thought she had created the delicate blue blooms, imbued them with her scent and scattered them across the forest floor around them, bidding them spread throughout Aman and Middle Earth and carry always the message to "Forget Me Not" to her Aulë, wherever he may be. His heart squeezing tightly in his chest with the force of his love for her, he had leaned down to whisper against her ear, "But for now I am here, wife. I am here."
Passionately they had made love again among the ferns on the forest floor, the delicate blue blooms sending up their heady scent as they were crushed beneath their bodies. Their love had swirled around them that day like a tangible thing, mixed forever now in his memory with the sweet scent of the tiny blue flowers.
"I am here," he had told her. "I am here," he had called today to no one in particular. "I am here!" The words burst from his lips as his eyes flew open. "By Eru's Light, I am here!"
Around him the serenity of Lorien seems to shimmer and shatter, torn apart as a whirlwind of emotions and memories comes crashing down on him. Clearly now he sees the doubt that has festered for so long inside, the doubt that Melkor's dark magic had taken and twisted into something more, something darker. Images swirl through his mind; the letter from Yavanna; meeting Nienna on the road to Taniquetil and-- Eru, forgive him -- returning with her to Mandos; the confrontation there with Eonwë. "Traitor!" he had called him and well he might. Clearly now, so clearly now, he sees the compassion in Manwë's eyes as he had listened and believed in him - yes, BELIEVED in him-- putting lie to the doubt that had festered for so long like a poison seed in Aulë's heart. Clearly too, although by Eru he wishes it were not, he sees again the hurt and betrayal in Yavanna's eyes as she turned and walked away from him.
"NO!" The swirling images shatter and fall from his mind leaving nothing but the image of those eyes, her beautiful emerald eyes so filled with pain. Shaken, he looks around him and is surprised to see all as it was. A swan and its mate float majestically past upon the lake. A light breeze plays quietly among the leaves of the forest, lifting a tendril of his long dark hair and tickling it against his cheek. His dark eyes are clear and bright in a way they have not been since first he stepped into that dread chamber. His brow is clear, and his head no longer aches. As the magic borne of Melkor's hate and jealousy had taken the darkness within him and twisted it, so now has the Garden of Lorien taken the deep abiding love within him and opened his eyes and his heart to the truth.
He looks about him desperately. "Yavanna!" Her name is a whisper upon his lips. "I am here! Yavanna!" his voice is louder and more urgent as he springs to his feet, knowing in his heart what he must do. "Please, Eru, do not let it be too late! Yavanna!"
