The fourteen Valar sat grim and silent in the Máhanaxar. Only one more trial, Manwë thought to himself. Melkor had been permanently sentenced to the Void, forgiveness decreed to the Noldor, and after this one last trial, the Valar could turn to the still difficult—but far more rewarding—task of beginning to reconstruct life in the Undying Lands.
Manwë sighed mentally as a small, dark form was dragged to the center of the ring. Sauron had been captured as he had tried to flee after the War of Wrath, and now Manwë would most likely have to sentence him to the Void along with his Master—something Manwë thought a terrible waste.
The Maia obviously thought so as well, for he was absolutely terrified. But it was not the same fear Melkor had displayed when he had begged for forgiveness yet again. This child's fear was more pure than Melkor's whiny, manipulative fear that had transformed into outrage when he had been sentenced to the Void. Sauron simply stared at Manwë with an absolute, helpless certainty that he was going to be hurt; and an equal certainty that there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Manwë closed his eyes briefly against the sight of those wide golden eyes.
"Do we have to throw him to the Void?" he silently asked Námo.
"No," the Doomsman replied. "In fact, it might be more fair not to. For Melkor was offered a second chance, and though he rejected it, we cannot judge this one based on his lord's actions."
"I simply do not wish to condemn a Maia, especially as young as he is, without at least attempting to reclaim him," Manwë said, opening up the conversation to the rest of the Valar. Some were shocked, and some disapproved, but all were willing to support the Elder King as he traced out his plan for the Maia.
"Sauron," Manwë said, watching the fear in the Maia's eyes increase. "By all the atrocities you have committed, and all you have helped perpetrate, we have more than enough reason to sentence you to the Void." Manwë paused, and the little Maia shrank back, a soft whimper escaping him.
"However," Manwë continued, "If you will repudiate your chosen lord and his actions, we will show some leniency towards you." The Maia relaxed slightly and blinked in surprise, before nodding.
"So easy," Manwë murmured. "Were you ever loyal to him at all?" Sauron looked pensive for a moment, then met Manwë's gaze again and shrugged.
"Regardless, you now have the choice between two options," Manwë continued. "If you wish forgiveness and mercy, you may grant us permission to examine your memories. If you are sincere in your repentance, you will be given full opportunity to redeem yourself." Manwë watched that terrible fear again fill the Maia's eyes, and he shook his head no. That was not a good sign, Manwë thought darkly.
"Then you may choose to be put to hard labor, until you decide to allow us to do so, or we decide you are again trustworthy," Manwë said. "Or, if neither option is appealing to you, we can always still send you to the Void."
Sauron looked conflicted for a moment, facial expressions shifting several times before he deliberately bit down on the gag in his mouth. Manwë stood, and came forward and removed it, not missing the way the Maia flinched as he did so.
"What," Sauron rasped, before he broke off coughing. Manwë handed him a glass of water.
"Thank you," the Maia whispered after he had taken a sip. Manwë was encouraged by the slight display of manners.
"If I chose to serve...to what use would I be put?" Sauron asked, only slightly above a whisper.
"Menial tasks, mostly," Manwë said. "But they would not be harder than you could handle, nor would they be shameful or degrading. We are not cruel, child."
Sauron sighed, nearly inaudibly, and looked down. He stayed like that for nearly a minute, before raising his head.
"Then that is the option I choose," he said softly. Manwë nodded.
"Very well," he said, reaching down to unchain the Maia's small wrists, Sauron again flinching as he did so.
"Check his physical state," Estë sent to Manwë as Sauron gained his feet. Manwë saw the wisdom in that, and wrapped his hand around the back of the Maia's neck, holding him gently but firmly as he read the signals that were sent to Sauron's brain. Sauron actually cried out in fear at that, and Manwë closed his eyes again as he realized the level of damage the small form had sustained. He let the Maia go, and Sauron skittered a few steps away, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, staring at Manwë with scared, hesitant eyes.
"It's alright, child," Manwë said soothingly, taking a deliberate step forward as the Maia tensed. "I won't hurt you." Manwë took another step forward and Sauron tensed further, though he didn't move. The Vala slowly slid his hands over the Maia's small shoulders, feeling the warm, fragile creature tremble under his touch. Holding the Maia gently, Manwë thought them both to a room in Ilmarin that Sauron could have.
"This will be your room, though you will not be spending much time here," Manwë said, releasing the Maia, who immediately moved away from the Vala. "The windows are warded—if you attempt to leave that way you will be found and brought back, and you will not care for the consequences."
"I won't run," Sauron said softly.
"Good," Manwë replied. "If you will obey, you will find that your life here will at least be tolerable, and you may even find some enjoyment." The small Maia said nothing to that.
"Get some rest," Manwë continued. "Someone will be by tomorrow to fetch you, and show you what to do." Sauron nodded his understanding, and Manwë left, hoping that this decision of his would not go ill.