Part Three: Heat Underground

Deep were the caverns delved by dark creatures under Angamando, deep and dangerous. They offered a place of hiding for the servants of Melkor biding for their time. There slept the valaraukar, spirits of black fire. There dwelt hordes of orcs and trolls, and other creatures, ones never seen above ground, nameless ones. It was a world of chaos and anarchy, countless fights, hunger and cannibalism, hunting and being hunted, a world of blood and fire. There were labyrinths of interweaving tunnels, connected to underground streams and lakes – some of these held water and some held molten stone. It was hot down there, and sometimes the earth itself shook and new crevices opened full of flames.

In the midst of the tunnels there was a high, lightless chamber with a throne-like chair by one wall. On the chair sat an unmoving figure clad in black. There was nothing else in the room.

Sauron was afraid. The presence of his master was distant. He was alone. He had tried to take command over the subjects of Melkor, but they were too interested in killing each other, or, in the case of the valaraukar, sleeping and gathering strength for the future. Sauron was not sure there would be a future. What if this was the end of it? What if the master never came back? What if...

Suddenly light shone in the room. Sauron shrieked and covered his eyes from a blazing golden flame in the air. He heard laughter sounding like fresh wood burning. Laughter of joy without malice. Slowly he opened his eyes to the light. In front of him there was, not a fire, but a woman with golden hair. Sauron thought he had known her once, but he did not remember who she might have been. His dearest memories were hazy, covered in the black slime of Melkor's power. Then she noticed her smile when, wordlessly, she took from her pocket a black stone.

'...Cal-Urúnya?'
'Yes.'
'I missed you.'
'Really?'
'I missed you, without realizing I did.'

Sauron stood up and walked to Tinwen. The maiden was dressed in a red robe, and her new shape was tall and noble. Sauron knelt down before her.

'If you came to slay me, do it now.'
'Come with me to the Mahanaxar, to hear your judgement.'
'To captivity, you mean?' Sauron stood up.
Tinwen told him about Melkor's captivity and his freedom. Sauron asked many questions about the repentance of Melkor, and Tinwen answered convincingly. Then Sauron told her he had suffered under the rule of Melkor and wished to be free, but he dared not go to Aman because he did not want to see Melkor ever again, changed or not. Tinwen thought she understood him; she, too, had felt uncomfortable near Melkor.

'Because of him I lost you,' they told each other.
'Set me free, Cal-Urúnya!'
'How?'
'To begin with, call me Turon.'
And Turon he was now, his clothes became bright gold and blue, he was surrounded with pale golden light. He was tall and handsome. He smiled, and love shone in his eyes.

'Turon, have you truly come back to me?'
He fell to his knees again.
'Would you take me back, would you still have me?'
'Yes.'
'And you will never leave me?'
'No.'
'Do you swear it by the Morglini-stones?'
He took his stone and they joined their hands so that both pairs of hands held a stone between them, and they swore each other they would never abandon each other. As witnesses they called Vána and Melkor.

Hardly any place on Arda is completely without beauty, for such is the power of Eru Ilúvatar. Thus, even under Angamando, there were hidden caverns full of colourful stalactites and stalagmites, gleaming crystal and clear waters. There were pillars of stone that reached up like trees in a forest, and veins of mineral that bloomed like meadows full of flowers. The echoes of streaming water and the sounds of drops falling from stalactite to stalagmite sounded in places like birdsong, rustling leaves and even singing voices. Many areas like these had been destroyed by the servants of Melkor when they had built the fortress, but this was left undiscovered because it was surrounded all over by hard granite with no openings big enough for anyone to go through.

Except, of course, if the one that wanted to go through could make herself very small. And Tinwen wanted to go everywhere. In the shape of an adult, she was still her old self, playful and curious. Turon found it difficult to keep in pace with her. She would scare him by disappearing and jumping at him from the roof, looking like a valarauka. She would try to tame an abandoned baby troll. Most amazing was her ability to dance on lava and bathe in fire. And naturally she wanted to go and follow any interesting tunnel, stream, or, in this case, a small natural opening in a cavern wall. Turon was too tired to follow her through and was now waiting for Tinwen to return. Suddenly there was a shout for help from the other side. In no time Turon was there, following the echoes through darkness.
'Help! Water! I can not get out!'
Water turns out the fire of a fire-spirit. Turon suddenly realised he was used to having Tinwen's light around him. He hastened his steps and came to a pool of dark water. Something was splashing in the middle of it. He dived without hesitation. He saw only bubbles. He felt the bottom of the pool, finding only rocks. Desperate, he came to the surface. And was greeted by merry laughter.
'Look at you! Wet all over!'
Tinwen was standing on a rock, shining, child-shaped, and unquestionably dry. Turon got angry.
'You must never do that again! I thought I had lost you.'
'I am sorry. But look at what I have found for us!'
And her light illuminated the entire cavern. Turon gasped in delight. Together, they started exploring.

The most beautiful chamber Tinwen named Coimirer, the Living Jewels. It was a garden of crystal flowers, a forest of stony pillars, a cave almost as fair as those under the mountains of Aman, where Aulë delved. Walking here, she missed nothing at all. Except, sometimes, Alatáriel, to show her this place and walk there together. But maybe the heat would be oppressive to the fragile form of the elf-maiden; maybe she would miss the stars and the wind, and her own kin. Maybe this place was a secret paradise meant only for two souls. New desires filled Tinwen's heart, making the spark a flame – Cal-Urúnya. Such was her heart when she once stood in the middle of Coimirer, waiting for Turon. He had borrowed her Morglin-stone and promised a surprise.

Turon came.

He asked her to become his wife, and she accepted. And he gave Tinwen a gift: the Morglin-stone set in a golden chain.
'I have put an enchantment on the gold,' he said, 'it will not melt even in the heat of your hottest fire, my love.'
And he reached forth and locked the chain around Tinwen's neck.
'Thus I take you mine.'