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Chapter One
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Nessa's dancing was not a thing to miss, and Aulë felt some of his weariness lifted as she stepped and spun in time with the music. He was seated on a stone bench some distance away from the others, but still had a clear view of the center of attention. His time for glory had come and gone, and he was thankful that his work was appreciated; he did not like being the focus of things. Yavanna had smiled at him, and that was all the thanks he needed or wanted. He wondered where she was now.
His eyes left Nessa and began scanning the area for Yavanna. He saw her standing underneath a willow tree with three others; her sister, Vána, Oromë, and Irmo. Oromë and Vána had wed recently, and Aulë could not help noticing that though they were watching Nessa like everyone else, their gazes continuously strayed toward each other. He wondered if he would ever look at anyone like they were.
"You should join us. They are asking about you."
Aulë's eyes turned away from Yavanna and her companions and toward the familiar face of Ulmo, Lord of Waters. "Hello, Ulmo," he said. "Thank you for your concern, but I can see fine from here."
Ulmo sat down next to Aulë on the bench and handed him a goblet of wine. Aulë thanked him and looked at the wine, but did not drink. "I am tired," he admitted, studying the reddish purple liquid inside the goblet as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
"I know you are, my friend," was Ulmo's reply, "but must you really isolate yourself like this?"
Aulë apologized and took a drink of the wine. He offered no further explanation to his behavior, though, and looked up at the sound of soft applause. Nessa's dance had ended. He looked at Yavanna again. She and Irmo were talking now. He reached out and brushed a few strands of her auburn hair out of her eyes, and took his time with pulling his hand away. She smiled at him. Aulë looked away and took another drink of wine, hoping Ulmo did not notice the hurt in his eyes.
He should not have hoped for so much. "You love her."
Aulë choked on the wine. "Yavanna?" he said. "Why would you say that? She and I… there is nothing we have in common." It was as much the truth as it was himself trying to convince himself that he and Yavanna would never be happy with each other.
Ulmo nodded. "I know. And that is why you love her."
Aulë's mind was spinning, searching for a way out. Ulmo was not married. Ulmo did not have one person continuously staking claim to his thoughts. Ulmo did not know. But then again, Ulmo had witnessed firsthand the courtship of Manwë and Varda. Ulmo was the one to whom Manwë came when he feared the heart of his beloved had favored his brother. Ulmo was the one who assured Manwë that Varda rejected Melkor and that he in turn hated and feared her. Ulmo did know.
Ulmo continued. "She intrigues you, Aulë. I have seen this. She is your opposite in every way but the One whom we serve. We all heard the theme the two of you created during the Music, and we all were amazed at its sound."
Aulë drained the goblet and said, "One theme does not lead to an eternity of devotion."
It did for Námo and Vair, Ulmo thought, recalling the moment his two friends bound themselves to each other. He kept the thought to himself.
Aulë sighed, and his shoulders slumped. "I love her, Ulmo." Admitting it was bittersweet. He looked at her again, smiling and laughing with Irmo. "But she appears to favor Irmo." He was more powerful than the Master of Dreams, but that meant nothing. That power could not sway the heart of Yavanna. Such a power did not exist.
"Trust not what you see by your eyes until they are confirmed by the truth," Ulmo replied. "It is true that Irmo and Yavanna would be a good match; their powers are great and they share a love of things that grow. It is true that their friendship is strong and if they were lovers, their love for each other would be impossible to break. But it is also true that there is another who has caught Irmo's eye."
"Estë," Aulë said, mostly to himself.. He had great respect for this kind lesser lady of the Valar, but he could not understand how anyone could be favored over Yavanna, and said so.
"You say that because it is Yavanna and Yavanna alone whom you love," said Ulmo. "So quick to volunteer for Manwë's task, and yet so hesitant to make known your love; you are a very confusing spirit, Aulë. Difficult to predict."
Aulë looked at his hands. They were rough from the work he did in the forges, and creating the Lamps did not help to smooth that rough touch. He wondered if Yavanna's hands were rough, too; she spent almost as much time working with them as he did with his.
"I… I think I fear that which I cannot know for certain," he said. "I knew I could create something that could give light to the world. I do not know if Yavanna would accept me."
"No, you do not know that," Ulmo agreed. "But is the chance not worth taking?"
Aulë looked at him.
Ulmo continued. "You cannot win that for which you do not fight."
In his heart, Aulë knew Ulmo was right. He would never have a chance with Yavanna if he didn't take one. He knew what he had to do.
Aulë stood. "I will take my leave of you now, my friend," he said. "I must do this before my sanity returns."
Ulmo smiled as Aulë crossed the green lawn toward Yavanna. His hopes were high. He could see in Aulë's eyes that he truly loved her in spite of all their differences. But whether or not Yavanna could return this love was unknown.
They would know soon enough.