OSSË
"For whatever else we lose, it is always ourselves we find in the sea."
Ossë felt his Master's fury long before the wind brought Ulmo's voice to his ears. The anger of the Vala raged across the western strand of Aman. The sea was torrid and a furious wind assaulted the shoreline, the moon hid behind the black clouds of Ulmo's anger. Ossë dropped to his knees in the sand at the edge of the waves, trying to catch his breath. He was exhausted from his work, and too much time spent lingering on the shore. He felt thick and disoriented, and tears coursed down his cheeks. Ulmo, Lord of the Waters, called to him again, roaring through the wind. But Ossë would not answer him, not yet.
Ossë waited anxiously for the sun to shine across the water. He wanted to see what he had done in the light of dawn. The wind whipped his sea green hair around his face as he picked up the bundle and pressed it to his chest. He had not been prepared to feel so deeply for something created through him. In his hands, he held his masterpiece. He knelt in the sand, waiting for the dawn, his thoughts traveling back through the millennia, to the events that had brought him to the shore this day.
He had been a fool, tricked by the dark material hidden in the proud song of a twisted being. Ossë had been so prideful and arrogant then, following his Lord Ulmo more out of fear than of fealty. He had resented Ulmo's authority over him, and the more resistant he grew, the more bitter and resentful he had become. Morgoth had fed off that resentment, luring him with sweet sounding words dripping with veiled venom.
He had escaped entrapment by the Dark One's canticle, and Morgoth would hate him forever for having eluded him. Even from beyond the Doors of Night, Ossë felt the malice the former Vala harbored toward him. Ossë had been a fool, and his foolishness had cost him all that he had been. Instead of returning to Lord Ulmo repentant, Ossë, steeped in self-loathing, remained rebellious and unpredictable.
Guilt gnawed at Ossë's conscience, and at its worst, he felt unable to contain it. It haunted him daily through the ages, manifesting itself in fits of anger he could not control. His rage had often compelled him to hurl himself running across the waves, laughing madly, many times leaving chaos in his wake. The people of the sea loved him, but dared not trust his moods.
Ossë had not understood that Ilúvatar did not give his pardon lightly, and when he did, it was complete. He had been unable to forgive himself. He was broken, and his shame ran deep. The one thing left intact after Morgoth, had been his perfect love for Eru. It had been what saved him, along with Uinen's devotion, and the ardent prayer of his friend Aulë.
Ossë thought, due to the magnitude of his transgression, he needed something more than words to prove his love to The One. He wanted tangible proof he could lay at his Master's feet. He wanted desperately to show Eru his heart so that he could honor his love for his Master, and in so doing, perhaps regain a fraction of himself.
Ossë had spent days venting his rage over the seas until he felt drained and insubstantial. Only then had he come to the western edge of Aman, his anger fully spent. He had bared himself completely to his Master for the first time since severing his ties with Morgoth, and he was at peace. In that moment, it had come to him, a way in which he could prove his love to Eru.
Ossë had not known if he would be successful. Others had achieved such a thing as this; he had seen with his own eyes that it could be done. The Valar had created the hroa of the Firstborn with the assistance of their Maiar. Aulë alone had created the dwarves from the materials he loved best, and his devotion to the beauty of craft. But these things had been done so many millennia ago. He had not known if he could, yet he harbored no doubt that he would try.
He gathered as his tools all things fine and noble from within his heart: his love for Uinen, easer of his torment; his devotion to Ulmo, his mentor and teacher; the passion he felt for the sea, and all things on and within her. He then commanded all these thoughts to yield to his will, and he joined them with his absolute love for Eru. With all thought of guilt and anger abandoned, Ossë turned his eyes to the stars, and weeping freely, he began to sing.
The torrent of Lord Ulmo immediately began to stir around him, but Ossë paid no heed. He would face Ulmo's wrath soon enough, and he would not be ashamed. He continued his work, integrating all that he had collected, and creating a harmony that poured out his love to the wind. His deep, rich voice climbing into the ether, sought his beloved Master's ear. Not since the days when the Ainur had sung the world into being had his voice sounded so pure. Devoid of all, save his love for Eru, he intoned the song of creation.
Ossë's lyric drew the very elements in around him, bending toward him to hear his verse. His hands reached out and drew from Arda those things that would honor Eru best. He drew the colors for his palette from the swarthy skies, the waters of dark indigo, and the pale gold sands from the western shore. His song gave the colors substance, and shaped them, giving form to his love. After many hours, he had completed his hymn to Eru, and was utterly spent.
The first sign of daybreak peered over the water, illuminating that which he held close. He looked down at what he had done, and his heart flooded with joy. There in his hands he held a child, perfect and pure, made from Ossë's unfaltering love of Eru Ilúvatar. He held the child up, caressed its soft cheek, and pressed its hand to his face. As he lifted the being up higher in the morning light, he heard the worried voice of Uinen calling out to him from down the shore.
"Ossë, what is happening?" She cried out as she ran toward him. "Where have you been? Ulmo is raging. He has been searching for you for hours."
She stopped short when he turned toward her. She looked at the thing he was clutching, and her mouth dropped open, the irate wind blowing her hair across the sand.
"Ossë, what have you done? What is that?" She whispered.
"Tis a babe, my love" he answered, moving his gaze from the child to look at his wife.
His voice was softer than she had ever heard it. Reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the baby, she looked closely at him, and her jaw dropped again. He was weeping openly. No anger touched his eyes, no self-loathing nor regret. For the first time since the Dark Singer had tried to lure him away, she saw the light of Ilúvatar, undimmed in her husband's eyes. Morgoth's poison no longer haunted them.
All repercussion faded from thought, as she dropped to her knees in front of her husband, enfolding him and his tiny companion in her arms. They wept together as they held each other, years of affliction forming a pool in the sand. They remained there for a time, until off in the horizon, they saw a terrible swell rising up from the turbulent water. Uinen flinched. She had never seen Ulmo so angry.
"This does not bode well for you, my love."
Ossë looked at her with a peaceful smile in his eyes, "I do not care. I would give her up to the sea if Eru were to ask it of me. I have done what I intended, I have painted a portrait of that which is good in me. It is a thing of beauty, and an ending to sadness. I would that Eru look upon it, and know my love for him is pure. Then will I do his bidding where this creature is concerned, though it pain me to my demise."
Uinen saw the truth of this in Ossë's eyes, and it frightened her. Her Lord Ulmo would be furious, but he must see the intent of Ossë's deed, and understand that if he were to reject this tribute, Ossë may well be lost to them forever.
She took the baby from him and looked into its face. The eyes were blue like the storming water of the sea, nearly black in their intensity. The night sky clung to the dark hair, and the skin looked as if it had been kissed by the dawn. The child owed nothing to the pale beauty of the Eldar, its features bore a singular beauty all their own that Uinen had never seen. She looked again at her husband, and knew what she would do.
"I will petition Eru on your behalf," she whispered to the child, "though it cost me everything, I will beg to garner his favor for you, little one."
Ulmo stormed toward them across the water, pushing the sea from his path as if it were nothing more than a minor annoyance. He rolled upon the beach like a giant wave, his face terrible in its anger. When he was close enough to see what Uinen was holding, he stopped short. Ossë took the baby from Uinen, holding it protectively in his arms. Ulmo billowed in the wind like the sail of some giant ship caught in a gale. He looked down at Ossë, then at Uinen, and finally at the creature.
"Are you MAD?" Ulmo roared.
Ossë replied to Lord Ulmo without looking up from the baby, his voice seemed unmoved by Ulmo's ire and yet, no trace of his customary arrogance could be heard.
"My Lord Ulmo, I do not beg your forgiveness for what I have done, for there is no regret in my heart. I would that you could understand this thing, but if you cannot, then I beg you, deliver my punishment quickly."
Ulmo let out a booming, derisive laugh, "Oh, you would have me do that would you? Perhaps you fear my discourse regarding your behavior more than you fear banishment or something worse, my friend."
Ossë looked at Ulmo for the first time, "I fear nothing short of displeasing my Master Ilúvatar in this matter. I have angered you Lord, and for that I am truly sorry, but I have no remorse, for my desire to please The Master is true. I will do what Eru bids me regarding this child; only I beg you, have him look just once upon the face. For Him did I sing the song that created, to paint my love for My Master here on Arda, if only briefly. If he would now have me give it back to Arda, so be it. I will pay that price for him." His face was etched with pain and resignation as he spoke.
Ulmo softened and his frown dissipated. The deluge that he had planned to loose on his student, in fact had been practicing for hours on the sea, died in his throat. He watched a tear as it fell from Ossë's eye, the light of Ilúvatar falling with it to the sand. Ossë had been renewed in his understanding of Eru's love for all He had created, and that realization shined a light from his fëa that overflowed from within him. Ulmo allowed the corners of his mouth to bend briefly, then made a rumbling sound as the frown returned.
"There are things that Eru would have me tell you, Ossë, and I cannot say that they are things that you will want to hear," Ulmo said sternly.
Before he could say another word, Uinen interrupted, "My Lord, please, if you would jus…"
"One moment Uinen," Ulmo raised a hand to halt her, "I know what it is that you would have me hear, and your wishes in this matter have been taken into account." He replied.
Uinen nodded and bowed her head to stare at the ground.
"You must know, Ossë," Ulmo continued, "Ilúvatar is not pleased with what you have done. There are reasons why these things are not for the Maiar, not the least of which being that, if other Maiar thought to take this notion into their heads, the shores of Aman would well be teeming with all manner of freakish beasts."
Uinen and Ossë both bit back their smiles at hearing this obvious insult to the abilities of their fellow Maiar. They had no desire to further incite Lord Ulmo. Ulmo, ignoring their mirth, continued.
"The Lord Eru has commanded that I come and claim this…thing."
Uinen abruptly jumped to her feet, "No! My Lord, I beg you reconsider. You must understand that Ossë meant no harm by what he has done. What he has made, he has made out of a desire to show our Master the trueness of his heart. I beg you please, My Lord, petition Eru on the babe's behalf, and I will do anything he asks. I will leave the waters of Ea, never to return, if that is what is required, but I implore you, do not harm this creature."
Ulmo put a hand on her shoulder to calm her. "Uinen, you know as well as I that Eru has known Ossë's heart since before he was made. He would not bring more misery to him than he has already brought to himself, nor to you, who has ever been loyal to this shifting Maia. No, I am afraid that what our Lord has in store for this…this…thing," Ulmo looked at the babe with one raised eyebrow, "will not cause you or your husband more torment. Rather it will replace your enmity with the joy and sorrow that only comes from watching a being that is much loved, stumble its way through Arda."
He offered his hand to Ossë who looked at him with shining eyes. Ulmo pulled him up from the sand, then turned both of the Maiar toward the cliffs of Pelóri that surround Aman.
"Listen," he urged them.
The two strained to hear of what Ulmo spoke. Coming to them over the top of the cliffs was the sweet music of the Valar. The tune was something they had never heard before, beautiful in its part, and yet scattered with strange lament. It was a song that spoke of great delight, touched with a shadow of regret. At times filled with unspeakable suffering, at others, light of heart, and completely peaceful.
"Of what do they sing my Lord?" Uinen asked in awe.
Ossë held the baby close, tears springing anew from his eyes. "My Master Ilúvatar has sung the child's fëa, beloved."
Ulmo smiled sadly, "Yes my friend, and the Valar are singing it forth. Each imparting their hope as they will."
Ulmo looked up toward the voices knowing that his Lord Ilúvatar had been expecting this day; His own song could not surprise Him. He knew that Eru had created this fëa with a different lyric; a lyric reserved for a select few. It was a unique stanza in the symphony of creation, forged as merely a fragment of a whole that once complete, would form a symphony unlike any other before it in Arda. Ulmo also knew that certain of the Valar had been asked to add their voices, imparting the child with knowledge that it would need to sustain its link and in so doing, strengthen the circle. Ulmo did not fully know Eru's purpose or the meaning of the circle; that was knowledge reserved for Manwë alone, he only knew that it was so.
Ossë and Uinen were awed; delighted that Eru had granted the being her fëa, yet confused by the greeting being offered up by the Valar. Ulmo turned to them again.
"You must know that this being shall not be allowed the peace of Aman. Eru has known since the forming of Eä that this child would come. He also knows that, as with all other beings of freewill, the child has a destiny that must be pursued, and it cannot be fulfilled here. Olórin sails on the morrow to Mithlond, you must give the babe up to Arda, and allow it to seek its own way."
As Ulmo finished speaking, they felt the child's fëa come into it, and looked down at the small face. The child, coming into awareness now, started and began to cry, emitting a sound that would rival the death throes of a seabird. Ulmo shook his head as if in pain.
Uinen laughed and said, "At least the face is pleasant to look at, though the voice is not easy on the ear."
Ossë looked at his little gift and asked, "Where will the child go in Arda, and who will care for it?"
Ulmo smiled, a secret thing full of mischievous delight.
"It may well please you to know, Ossë, you need not worry for the care of this small one, it seems that our friend, Círdan, will soon be receiving an unexpected gift from Aman."
At that thought, Ulmo burst into a deep laugh that rolled across the beach like thunder. Ossë and Uinen looked at each other, smiling at the impish delight of their Lord. The baby jumped in Ossë's arms startled into a fresh round of wailing. Ulmo rolled his eyes toward the sky. They turned to walk down the beach, as Ulmo held up his hands in a vain effort to stop the clamor. Suddenly remembering something very important, Ulmo stopped and looked at the two Maiar.
"Not a word of this is ever to be breathed to the other Maiar." He pointed a finger at both of them. "They must not know for many years to come, of what has happened here today." Uinen and Ossë looked at him questioningly. Ulmo sighed.
"This child you have made will be unique in Arda, and will suffer doubt and loneliness for that fact, even before she reaches her maturity. You have created a being unlike any other, Ossë, and it will struggle to find its place in the world. This deed must never happen again. You must keep it to yourselves, never speaking of it to anyone." He thought for a moment, and his brow darkened as he continued.
"We are sending an innocent child into a world that once again falls under the shadow of evil, and it will see much misery. You have thoughtlessly brought suffering on another being, and I fear we will know great sadness on this account in times to come. Much will be required of the child, and it will linger long in the world." Ulmo's face then brightened as his premonition changed its course.
"But all is not doom," he looked on the worried faces of the Maiar. "Círdan will love and protect it fiercely. This child will grow confident and strong under his wing, and friendship and love will not be lacking. Close bonds will be forged with others set apart by Eru himself and one who was spared for a great task shall be bound beyond friendship, may the Valar help that being."
"But beware Ossë," Ulmo warned, " at times Círdan will cry out to you in frustration for having sent him such a vexing creature, at others, the child itself will seek out answers that can only be revealed in due time. You must remember that your role cannot change, you will have no more contact with the child than you already have with Cirdan. You must trust him to do right and never interfere."
He headed them down the beach again.
"Come, we must make for the Bay of Eldamar. Olórin will be sailing tomorrow at first light and this little one," he nodded toward the child, "must go with him. And again I remind you, not a word to the Maiar."
As they walked, Ulmo chuckled to himself.
"What is it my Lord?" Ossë asked. Ulmo's smile was as warm as the sun.
"It is bad enough that I must explain to all the Valar why I have an idiot for a vassal."
Ulmo's laughter startled the child again, and she began her crying anew. The Great Lord of the Sea thought that there might be no place in all of Arda to escape that sound.