Chapter Nine: Aulë

When I came at last to the top of the stairwell, heart drumming in my ears, I looked about at the suddenly unfamiliar trees, lost.

I could not go back to Mahtan's house yet, for Falassë would wonder why I alone had returned so early. There was nowhere else to go. Not Tirion.

What I needed was a place to be alone, to gather my thoughts together and still the quivering fear that had leapt to my throat sometime in the past few minutes. Confident that I would remember the path that led to where Nerdanel's family dwelt when the time came, I set off on my own into the forest.

I walked at my own pace, my emotions slowly settling like stirred-up earth returning to the bottom of a pool. I bent all my thought on the sound of my boots upon the green earth and the calming sights and sounds about me.

Spring was melding into summer with a swiftness only the Eldar could see. The flowers that grew abundantly in the undergrowth had all blossomed to their full. Some were a pure, snowy white; others were the rosy color of the sky before Laurelin's light came to its full golden wealth. Above the shrubs and ferns rose the trees, their limber boughs green with many leaves and trailing ghostly mosses. All about me was the loud silence of life, empty yet full, a raw noise soaring to the sky.

There was no path here. I was free to wander where I would, to wherever my mind decided for me to go.

For a while I was my own self, unhampered by thoughts of Indis, Finwë, Ingoldo--even of Nerdanel. I was alone, forgetting all, enjoying all with an innocent bliss I had once thought lost. Though they were neither dingy forge nor fair seashore, the woods that lent me sweet solace on that day.

After a while, I found myself looking not at the virgin ground before my feet but up at the great expanse of the heavens, the light warm and yellow and soft upon my face. I smiled and laughed aloud, breathing deep the sweet air, so empty of voices and worries and besetments.

Yes, I knew when I left this lonely walk, I would be again harried by the rush and clamor of my fate, but for now. . .for now I was released, controlled by nothing.

When at last my feet could carry me no longer, I sat at the foot of a great tree, its branches rich and bountiful with leaves, and thought upon many things while I gazed up into its green, light-pirced canopy. Strangely, I was nearly numb to the emotion and turmoil that my mind's workings usually roused.

I knew I should have felt anger when I thought of this and sorrow when I thought of that, but my mind seemed slowed, running at the same steady pace of the woods' growth. It was as if I was recalling the life of someone else from a distance. I could think of Ingoldo without tensing with anger. I could think of my father without brimming with love. I remembered my short life without passion or remorse, thinking with delicious leisure upon every instant.

As the hours grew later, my mind came at last to the memories of the guiding voice and working at the forge. It was then that my emotions returned in a flood. A virulent rage seized control of my head, born of confusion and worry.

Who are you? I asked no one, Show yourself to me! For once, advise me on something other than forgework. What should I say to Nerdanel and her family? You have made them think me mad and strange. Why do you--

Do not fear your return, soothed the voice, as calm and sober as ever, relaxing me even in my hour of anger. They will understand and condone you when you reveal who I am.

"Who are you then?" I demanded, forgetting to answer with my mind, my bodily voice aching with fury and irritation. I would not play this game any longer. Seeing as I was skilled in reading the moods of others, while mine remained closed to them, it was not often I was so unsettled by the mind of another being.
Who am I? The voice seemed to laugh, both affectionate and amused, the sound echoing silently in my head. Well, you have confronted and overcome me. Dear child, I am Aulë.

Aulë?

I jumped to my feet in shock, mind racing, suddenly short of breath. It was not as if I had not heard of the Vala before; my father was often visited by their unearthly envoys and heralds, and he often spoke of them to me. I had known that sometime in my life I would most likely meet or speak with a Vala or Maia, it was something I expected here in the land of the Valar, but--now?

I thought fleetingly, with wonder and pride, of the notion that the Vala was speaking to me, but then I realized--all along, every night I had gone to the forge, every whisper that had guided my hammer and tongs, it had been Aulë. He had guided my hand and mind, had helped me perfect my skills. I felt so foolish! Why had I not seen it sooner?

Peace, Prince Finwion. I see you are young after all for all the subtlety and wisdom of your mind, the voice--Aulë's voice--whispered to me, sweet as the wind that whispered through the leaves above.

"But Mahtan said--you have not taken an apprentice in many years. He said you waited."

I was waiting for you.

"Me?" I did not feel pride, only lingering surprise. "But I am only. . ."

You are Finwion, firstborn son of King Finwë of the Noldor, beloved of the Valar. Who better to teach?

When I heard beloved of the Valar, I felt guilt and a faint feeling of rebellion shadow my surprise as I remembered my thoughts on the Trees, and what I had said to Indis, the words that were most likely not even dreamed of in the Undying Lands until they left my lips.

Part of me wanted to cringe, to beg forgiveness, but another part remained tall and arrogant, demanding why I should bow before the gods. Was I not immortal as well? If I were to bow before them, they would no longer be my guardians, but my jailers.

If Aulë heard my thoughts, he said nothing of them.

"But what can I do?" I asked into the growing silence, still confused despite my rebelliousness. I tried to brush away my defiant thoughts into the shadows of forgetful memory.

Magnificent things. You shall be named Curufinwë, Skilled One of Dark Hair. I see much of your fate; not all, but much, and I should like greatly to teach you. Mahtan is a skillful smith indeed, and if you would be taught by him, I would let it be so, but I can give you knowledge of smithcraft no Elda before you has known. I can guide you, Finwion, but not without your consent.

Despite my mistrust of the Valar, the words of Aulë interested me. Had I not always desired knowledge? And to know secrets of metalwork that been confined to only Aulë's mind for so long. . .I was sore tempted, and gave in quickly.

"Teach me then, Lord Aulë, and I shall be your apprentice."

I thank you. We shall not speak for a while, though. Do not wait overmuch; for much has to come to pass before I visit upon you again.

"Will I lose my skills? Do I not need a teacher?" My words rushed now. He could leave at any minute, fickle as the teasing breeze. . .

A teacher? Aulë laughed again, softer this time. No. Not at all. You have enough lore and understanding of the crafts of metal to be a teacher yourself, despite your young age. You will never fully lose your ability, not once in your life. So rest at ease, and do not fear. Farewell, son of Finwë.

There was a sudden emptiness, a silence in my head, as there had always been after a night at the forge, when I had returned wearily to my bed.

But instead of throbbing with a longing for sleep, my mind was wide awake, working furiously. Aulë had spoken to me. He had told me he wanted to teach me. I still did not understand why, why I was so exceptional among the Eldar, but I impatiently tossed the thought aside, seeking questions I could easily answer. What else had Aulë said?

That I was wise enough to teach metalcraft. After barely a sixmonth's worth of nights at the forge? It must take years to learn everything, years upon years, and ages upon ages. But if what Aulë told me was true. . .

"Stop thinking about it," I firmly told myself aloud, then looked around, a little unsteady on my feet. The light of Laurelin was nearly spent, and fog from the nearby sea was creeping into the mountains. Had so much time passed during my conversation with Aulë? To me, it had seemed only a few minutes. As I gathered my scattered wits, I began following the path I had made home, hoping the fog would not encroach upon me too soon before night fell.

When I finally came to the clearing where Mahtan's house stood, it was as black as pitch out, with mist gathered at the feet of the trees, as if seeking shelter under the boughs. The windows of the dwelling were lit, and I hastened to the door.

Nerdanel all but flew at me the instant I entered.

"We had thought you lost," she murmured, voice muffled as she buried her face in my tunic.

Mahtan stood from his seat by the fire and laughed aloud, face bright with mirth, then turned to me as Nerdanel hastily detached herself, blushing.

"So where did you go?" He asked.

"I know now who taught me," I said, feeling the truth sweet and feather-light upon my tongue, "Aulë spoke to me, and revealed himself to me as the voice that guided me through my metalwork. Please, believe me. I know it must sound strange. . ."

Mahtan's eyes widened. "You are joking," he murmured, almost emotionless with shock. I shook my head earnestly, and he smiled admiringly.

"I knew there was something of a smith in you. And if Aulë himself has taken an interest in your skill. . .I have nothing more to say than that I am proud. Envious, perhaps," he laughed, ruffling my hair affectionately, "But proud that I have met a smith blessed enough to have Aulë for a master. Best of luck to you, my boy."

I flushed, shifting my feet, but Nerdanel gave me a glowing smile that spoke of her pride as well.

"But now I must return home," I said suddenly, raising my eyes when I could once more, "For my father would also most likely want to learn of this. You have been gracious hosts, and I thank all of you, but tomorrow I should like to go with the changing of the lights."

"It has been a pleasure to house you, Prince," Falassë replied, eyes shining with sincerity as she bowed her head in impressed reverence. Nerdanel, from her place at her mother's side, looked up at me and nodded, eyes shining with a light entirely different--brighter, clearer, and touched by love--from Falassë's.

I woke early the next morning, and left only a short while later. Before I left, I said my farewells to Nerdanel and her family, who had all woken early to see my departure. I came to Nerdanel last, and as we embraced, I whispered in her ear, "It is your turn now, beloved. Come to Tirion with autumn."

Not looking at her face, lest I reveal to her parents some emotion best left hidden, I mounted my horse and set off through the woods, north for Tirion, leaving Mahtan, his house, and his family behind.

Author's Note:

Thanks to all whose kind words made Chapter 8 seem like a worthy installment. I love you guys.

Because this chapter is so short, I promise to have the tenth posted sometime during this upcoming weekend to compensate. Stay tuned!

Much love,

Blodeuedd