He trudged down the well worn path, moving further away from lantern-lit streets.

And when he had come out into the country he moved swiftly as a spirit free of form. But a shadow flickered amid the starlight and he once again resumed a solid shape, staring up into the silvery night at the flutter of great leathery wings as a quick flying form wheeled overhead. With a sigh he continued his journey on foot.

"So..." A soft voice asked from high above. "How did it go?"

"Hmph." Mairon responded, his hood momentarily obscuring his face from where Thuringwethil was perched.

"Hmph? Oh my..."

For a while they continued under the rippling lights high above, silver bells swaying in the soft wind from. Now and then Mairon would cast a glance upward to see if he was still being followed, and each time the shadow of great wings reassured him. The level plain was wide and as flat as a board, they had a long way toward home yet to go. From where he was Mairon could see the towering mountains on all four horizons, and looking back he could see the lights of the city - the only city in Arda - Almaren. Yet the light gave him little joy that evening as he wallowed in bitter thoughts and kept silent company with his friend. For Mairon felt sick at heart.

Admirable.

It's what they say, but what does it matter? All these long centuries nothing has changed at all. For many among the Ainur praised the works of Mairon - chief among Aule's apprentices and strongest among the Maia. Much of his time was spent crafting some beautiful thing; a shining trinket, a useful tool, or some thing of whimsy. Each time he was praised for his cunning and skill. And yet...it seemed there was a veil between himself and his Ainur kin.

'Admirable' he was. But to what end? His works might buy a fleeting moment of joy or approval, but soon enough he - the creator - was forgotten, even after what he wrought continued to be heralded as magnificent. And if asked to create something of value he would have a Maia or a Vala's rapt attention. But when the work was done it was as if he had fulfilled his sole purpose and that to ask for more would be vain. The other maia in Aule's keeping would feast with some of their clients, and many were popular and well known through the land. They would travel to the corners of their small domain and see the wonders of Arda. Yet it seemed to Mairon that he was misunderstood. For when he opened his mouth to speak the words that were heard were what others desired to hear, not what had been spoken. Worse yet was the distance he knew many kept out of fear.

"You did not answer my question." Thuringwethil spoke at last, and dropping from the sky she took a form more pleasing for walking, yet her arms remained folded as great wings draped around her like a cloak. "What did she say when you asked?"

Mairon gave a bitter smile, eyes searching for their home. "She said I was 'admirable' but not her type."

"is that not-"

"What the last three said as well? Yes, almost to the letter."

"Why?"

On the thin grass Mairon stood, peering up into the starry heavens. "You're asking the wrong person Thû...if I knew I'd be back in Almaren having the time of my life, you know, having fun with my peers."

Mairon paused here with a heavy sigh and kicked a stray jewel along the path. It was of little consequence, glittering like pale fire in the silvery glow of starlight - but the way was strewn with millions of them, so many that the road cut a swath like shimmering starlight through a sea of gently waving grasses. Silence fell between them for a long time as the walls of their home loomed ever larger.

"I guess...I would be having fun with my peers if I had any."

"Your coworkers?"

"But that's just it!" Mairon growled. "I don't work with them! I oversee them. Big difference. They don't see me as someone they can 'hang out' with, I'm basically like their boss. And even the ones that don't feel that way act like they're afraid to even talk to me. I'm not deaf...I can hear some of what's being said when I'm not around."

Thuringwethil fluttered her wings, just the slightest hint of defensiveness. "Is it anything bad?"

To her surprise her friend laughed. "No. That's just it. No one has anything BAD to say about me. Not a single word. But I know there are a lot of maia who don't like me just because of that."

"Jealous." She whispered.

"It's amazing how petty immortal spirits can be sometimes..." Mairon commented with a wry smirk, eyes lowered to the jemstone path. "I almost feel like...maybe I should be less perfect. If I remembered to do it I'm sure I could mess something up, not enough to get in trouble but enough to show a flaw now and then. I could work less hard or something-"

Now Thuringwethil stopped in front of him, her eyes as dark as the void set in a kind and beautiful face. "You would hold yourself back to shield yourself from their jealousy? Running from a competition is not in your nature."

"But neither is being alone forever!" The maia across from him gave a soft pout and Mairon with all the sheepishness of a child, reached out and held her gently by the shoulders, touching his forehead to hers. "You know what I mean. You're more like my sister than anything else...though Ilúvater never named us as such."

"And I feel like as a big sister you owe it to me to listen."

"Big sister?" He laughed. "Oh no - I'm not going to be the mischievous little brother."

"Why not? We both know I'm the brains of this operation."

Laughing, the two continued their walk, striding with considerable ease up to the high walled fence around the great abode and passing into a great courtyard.

"It's just that...well...I can't really describe what I'm feeling. I never used to think about anything like this - I was content. But this Fana thing is really throwing me off." With a scowl Mairon regarded his own lithe form, frowning at the feeling of his hair on his cheeks and the coolness of silk that wrapped about him. The prickles from the circlet and ear-cuffs he wore were in his mind. "I don't know why they insist on going around with these 'bodies' all the time! What was so bad about being unhoused?"

"An unhoused spirit can't make jewelry Mairon."

"Maybe I don't want to make jewelry anymore! That's another thing- it seems like making trinkets is all we ever do. I want to make something useful."

Thuringwethil gave a silent nod as she pushed open the door. "Be that as it may, think on it tomorrow."

At first Mairon looked as if he might argue; but with only a stern glance all dissent was stifled and he nodded in agreement. "Sure. I'll rest on it."

And he did, but rest did not make things any better.

I don't get it. I just don't understand.

Staring out across Almaren from one of the high balconies of Aule's forge the maia took a momentary break from the toil of his profession. That day had been rather successful in that he'd managed to make a most beautiful carcanet - one glittering like starlight - for no less than Varda herself; at Manwe's request. Oh everyone had 'ooh'd and 'aah'd over it like always and the Valar showered him with praise. Even Curumo had said something nice, despite being Mairons only real competition and chiefest rival for Aule's attention. But...well...it could have gone better...

"You're moping. Why?"

Mairon turned to look at the far larger form beside him, leaning against the beautifully carved alabaster rail in a gesture of what might have been boredom. But Kosomot's eyes flashed with too much energy to ever seem truly at rest or without thought. Seeing the maia brought a smile to his lips, for if anyone understood him it was Kosomot.

"I'm moping because it's the absolute last option left to me. I've used up all the other ones."

"Then this is the worst plan ever if your fail-safe is 'mope'." Kosomot snorted. A moment later he nudged the maia and in a lowered voice he asked; "So...you didn't tell me why. You're not the type to wallow in pity - at least not without a bottle nearby."

At this Mairon gave a fleeting smile. "It's complicated. It's this whole 'Ainur pairing' thing. I don't understand it."

"Oh really?" Kosomot asked, turning to place his back on the rail. In the shimmering mixed light of silver and gold his eyes glinted in an unearthly way as they reflected both in equal measure. "So you're lonely. You want romance. Thats' okay, I know you like to worry about absolutely everything but I'm sure you'll find someone eventually. Give it time."

Mairon frowned. "That's all I've ever had to give - time. And I'm tired of waiting. I've met nearly every Ainur there is and I haven't found my 'duet' yet. I'm starting to think that maybe...maybe I was created without one." The flame maiar stood together on the balcony a long time before either spoke again. It was Mairon who broke the silence.

"Within each Ainur is a piece of the Great Theme. And each part has it's compliment in the work of the whole. These complimentary parts are the destined 'duet'. As far as we can tell Ilúvater created Ainur mostly as 'sets' or 'pairs' and the only trick was finding the other half of our duet. Varda of Light and Manwe of Air, Yavanna of growing things and Aule of that which does not grow."

"And...?" Kosomot inquired as he loomed over the rail like some giant from another world, seeming mildly bored with the whole discussion. With a grunt Mairon turned around with his back to the rail, crossing his arms and flicking coppery-blond hair over his shoulder.

"Talking to Arien had to have been the hardest thing I've ever done in my whole existence up until that point. I've been wanting to just have a little time with her since we got here! But then fires...and general destruction...well; Melkor sort of happened and then everyone was so busy putting things back together that any thoughts of finding my 'duet' went out the window. Then just as I was going to try again...well; MELKOR sort of happened again and the whole host raced off to drag him back to Almaren and failed."

"I'm seeing a theme here-"

"And I've practically been walking on air all morning because of that carcanet I made for Varda and it got me thinking about this 'duet' thing again so I finally finally gathered up enough courage to talk to this elusive but totally beautiful maia I've liked since before we even left the Halls of Time."

Here he paused and put his head in his hands. Mairon was no stranger to the complicated dance of finding 'the one' - someone who complimented his personality and allowed him to be his utmost. For though it was often on their minds but rarely talked about the Ainur were all driven to find their 'other half'. Not for the same reasons as the Olvar or Kelvar that Yavanna watched over but for the sake mostly of their own spirits.

"And then I finally get Arien alone and try to talk to her and guess who shows the hell right up?"

"You're gonna tell me..."

"Melkor! That asshole just kept hitting on Arien the whole time until she finally got mad and flared off and then he starts trying to talk to me!"

Kosomot quirked a salacious grin. "Sooo...?"

Mairon crossed his arms and pouted. "I threw a fireball at his face."

Kosomot laughed.

Sitting behind his desk Mairon was desperately trying focus above the sounds of thousands of chattering orcs filing past his office in an un-ending succession. It was only when two heavily cloven feet landed unceremoniously on his desk dripping hot tar and sputtering flame that he even looked up.

Leveling a glare at the balrog he sighed. "Yes Kosomot?"

The Lord of Balrogs grinned. "Soo...when is the wedding?"