11. Ties That Bind
Sauron woke up slowly, his mind still hazy from the deep sleep. The soft light of Telperion filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. The softness of the bed cradled him, the cool sheets contrasting with the warmth of the blankets. The gentle rustling of leaves outside the window added to the sense of peace. He felt warm and safe, wrapped in a gentle blanket of affection from his bond with Olórin. For the first time since leaving Valinor, he didn't feel the need to spring awake, to be fully alert and ready for anything.
The sensation was foreign but comforting, like the warmth of a hearth after a long, cold journey. Sauron shifted slightly, feeling the soft fabric of the bed beneath his fingers. His usual vigilance, honed by centuries of survival and deception, was replaced by a profound sense of security. Olórin's presence was a soothing balm, his steady breath a rhythmic whisper in the quiet room, a reminder of the trust and love they shared.
Sauron remained still, savoring the rare feeling of peace, the faint chirping of birds outside blending with the soft sighs of the breeze. The gentle weight of Olórin's arm draped over him anchored him to the present, dispelling the shadows of his past. He closed his eyes again, allowing himself to drift in the tranquility of the moment.
A small smile tugged at his mouth. I could get used to this, Sauron thought. The bond with Olórin, strengthened by their shared experiences and deep conversations, was a lifeline he hadn't realized he needed so desperately.
He shifted slightly, careful not to disturb Olórin, and let his mind wander. Thoughts of his upcoming conversation with Aulë surfaced, mingled with the determination to reveal Melkor's plans. Informing the Valar about Melkor's likely plans was the logical course, despite the potential peril and personal disadvantage it could bring. By alerting the Valar, they could prepare large-scale defenses to protect Valinor. It was a calculated risk, but one that could shift the balance in their favor.
The Valar, with their immense power and resources, could fortify Valinor against Melkor's impending attack. Their collective strength would create a formidable barrier, one that Melkor would find difficult to breach. Meanwhile, Sauron could focus on developing contingencies, plans that would come into play should Melkor manage to break through the initial defenses.
He envisioned multiple layers of protection—barriers, wards, and traps that could slow Melkor's advance and buy them precious time. His mind raced with possibilities, each one meticulously crafted to counter Melkor's known strategies. It was a complex puzzle, but one that Sauron felt uniquely equipped to solve.
His logical mind took solace in the planning. Each step he mapped out brought a sense of control, a way to counter the chaos Melkor intended to unleash. By preparing for every eventuality, he could ensure that Valinor would not fall, that the Trees and the Silmarils would remain safe. And most importantly, he could ensure the safety of Olórin and Nárie.
And should Melkor manage to infiltrate Valinor, Sauron would be ready. He would have plans in place to thwart Melkor's every move, using his intimate knowledge of the Dark Lord's tactics against him. It was a dangerous game, but one Sauron was willing to play if it meant protecting what he had come to cherish once more.
As he laid there, contemplating his next steps, the enormity of his task settled over him. The logical part of his mind understood the necessity, the critical importance of his actions. The emotional part, the part still struggling with guilt and fear, felt the weight of the responsibility and the potential personal consequences.
But Sauron knew he couldn't afford to let emotions cloud his judgment. Not now. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the challenges ahead. The path he had chosen was fraught with danger, but it was also the only way forward. By combining the might of the Valar with his own strategic acumen, they stood a chance against Melkor.
When Sauron finally opened his eyes fully, Olórin stirred beside him, his gaze meeting Mairon's with a warmth that chased away the last remnants of doubt.
"Hey," Olórin murmured, his voice thick with sleep but laced with affection.
"Hey," Mairon replied, his own voice softer than usual. "Thank you for staying with me."
Olórin smiled gently, making Mairon's heart swell. "Always, little brother. Today is a new day, and we'll face it together."
Sauron glanced outside at the darkness, the crisp night air drifting in through the window, carrying the scent of blooming night jasmine. "More like a new night," he commented, while Olórin rolled his eyes. The bond revealed his true feelings, a mix of amusement and anticipation.
"Fine, a new night then," Olórin replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "But let's get up. Nárie will come over soon to discuss your project, and afterward, you have the daunting task of facing Aulë." The last part was said playfully, but with a note of compassion.
Olórin felt a deep well of compassion for his brother, understanding how challenging this must be for Mairon. The weight of his past actions and the fear of judgment were heavy burdens to bear. Olórin's eyes softened as he looked at Mairon, seeing not just the troubled Maia but his beloved younger brother who was struggling to find his path.
Sauron nodded, feeling a mixture of anticipation and dread. He looked forward to the familiar comfort of working with Nárie. However, as he glanced at the tools neatly arranged on his workbench, the thought of facing Aulë filled him with apprehension. The memory of Aulë's pained expression when Sauron had chosen to keep blocking their bond still haunted him, a ghostly echo that chilled his very core. He dreaded what might be revealed during their conversation, especially if he unblocked the bond as Aulë would undoubtedly want.
"Námo took the information well," Sauron said, voicing his concerns aloud, "but I didn't betray him personally in the previous timeline. Aulë is different."
Olórin's expression softened with understanding. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on Mairon's arm. "Aulë cares deeply for you, Mairon. He always has. Whatever happens, remember that his anger or disappointment comes from a place of love and concern."
"I know," Sauron admitted quietly. "But it's still hard."
"It is," Olórin agreed, placing a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "But you're not alone in this. We're all here to support you."
Sauron took a deep breath, his gaze drifting to the intricate designs on the walls, trying to steady his nerves. He knew Olórin was right, but the fear of rejection and judgment still lingered. He had betrayed Aulë in ways that were deeply personal, and the thought of confronting that betrayal was almost overwhelming.
Olórin, seeking to distract Mairon from his dark thoughts, glanced around the room before his eyes settled on the workbench. "Can I see the light orb now?" he asked, his curiosity evident.
Mairon's face lit up. "Of course," he said, leading Olórin to the orb. "I made some improvements."
He activated the orb, and it glowed softly before emitting smaller orbs of light that floated to different corners of the room. Each one settled into place, illuminating the space with a warm, gentle light. The effect was mesmerizing, turning the room into a haven of soft radiance.
Olórin's eyes widened with admiration. "That's incredible, Mairon. You've truly outdone yourself."
A proud smile tugged at Sauron's lips. "Thank you." It felt almost weird but good seeing what he had achieved before joining Melkor. It gave him hope that maybe he could return to it someday.
Time passed as they admired the orb's function, the light casting a serene ambiance that eased the tension between them. The moment of peace was interrupted when Nárie's voice echoed in Mairon's mind through a temporary bond. 'Are you ready?' Nárie asked.
Mairon agreed, sending back a pulse of affirmation. 'Yes, I'm ready.'
Nárie arrived shortly after, and they settled into discussing the memory orb project. The conversation provided a welcome distraction, allowing Sauron to focus on something productive. They spent hours exploring various rune combinations, brainstorming ways to make the orbs store more than one memory.
"What if we layer the runes in a spiral pattern?" Nárie suggested. "It might allow the orb to access multiple memories without causing interference."
Sauron considered the idea, his mind racing with possibilities. "That could work. We'd need to ensure the runes are balanced properly, though. Otherwise, the memories might merge or become unstable."
Olórin, observing their discussion, chimed in. "Perhaps using different types of crystal as memory anchors could help stabilize the runes. Each crystal could hold a separate memory, and the runes would guide the orb in accessing them without overlap."
Nárie nodded thoughtfully. "That's an excellent idea. It would require precise craftsmanship, but it's definitely achievable."
As they worked through the details, Sauron felt a sense of camaraderie and purpose that had been missing for so long. The project was more than just a distraction; it was a way to reconnect with his roots and use his talents for good.
Hours passed in productive discussion, the room filled with the glow of the light orb and the soft hum of their voices. For a while, the weight of Sauron's impending conversation with Aulë faded into the background, replaced by the excitement of discovery and creation.
Eventually, they concluded their session, having made significant progress on their plans for the memory orbs. Sauron felt a renewed sense of confidence, bolstered by the support of his friends and the tangible results of their collaboration.
Sauron noticed that it was already light out and took a deep breath. He didn't want to delay it any longer. He sent a glance at Olórin, who immediately understood and said, "We will let you be then."
Nárie glanced between them, a bit confused but ultimately nodded in agreement. Before they fully left, Olórin touched his forehead to Mairon's, sending waves of love and loyalty through their bond.
"No matter what happens with Aulë, I will always support you," Olórin promised.
Mairon was filled with immense gratitude, momentarily easing his doubts. "Thank you, Olórin," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Olórin and Nárie left the room quietly, their footsteps fading into the distance, leaving Sauron alone with his thoughts. He took another deep breath, steadying himself. The support from Olórin had given him the strength he needed to face this moment.
With determination, Sauron made his way to Aulë's workshop. The familiar scent of metal and earth greeted him as he approached, the clang of hammers on anvils echoing through the halls, stirring memories of the countless hours he had spent there, honing his craft under Aulë's guidance. He hesitated at the entrance, the weight of what he was about to do pressing down on him.
Gathering his resolve, he stepped inside. The sound of hammering filled the air, and he spotted Aulë working diligently at his forge. Sauron waited, watching the Vala with a mixture of apprehension and longing. Aulë had always been a figure of immense strength and wisdom, and confronting him now felt like an insurmountable challenge.
Aulë looked up, sensing Mairon's presence. His eyes softened with a mixture of surprise and something deeper—perhaps hope. "Mairon," he said, his voice steady but gentle. "What brings you here?"
Mairon swallowed hard, taking a step forward. "I need to talk to you. There's something important I need to tell you."
Aulë immediately agreed, motioning for Mairon to follow him. They walked past rows of glowing forges, the heat brushing against their skin, as they made their way to his personal rooms. As they were leaving, Sauron caught sight of Curumo. Something about him bothered Sauron more than usual. Besides the usual disdain directed at him, there was something deeper, darker.
Sauron's thoughts raced, momentarily forgetting his impending discussion with Aulë. He tried to figure out what had changed, what made Curumo look almost like the one who had joined Melkor in the previous timeline. In the previous timeline, Melkor approached Curumo much later. Have my actions changed that? Sauron wondered, feeling a chill run through him.
"Mairon?" Aulë's voice brought him out of his thoughts.
Mairon shook off the troubling thoughts for now. He followed Aulë into the private chambers, the familiar surroundings bringing back a rush of memories—some comforting, others filled with regret.
Aulë closed the door behind them and gestured for Mairon to sit. "Speak freely, Mairon. Tell me what weighs so heavily on your heart."
Sauron hesitated, the room's air thick with the scent of hot metal and old leather. Standing before Aulë, all his previous determination to do this seemed to have vanished. If this conversation went as Sauron suspected it would, Aulë would find out about his dark past. So far, he hadn't meant to reveal his secrets to the two beings who knew—Olórin and Namo—and now to commit to a path where he knew it would happen felt insane.
"Melkor is planning to attack the Two Trees and steal the Silmarils," Sauron forced out, hopelessly wishing that Aulë wouldn't ask any questions.
"Did he tell you that?" Aulë asked, destroying those hopes. Aulë had thought that Melkor would be too paranoid to reveal his plans to such an extent, especially to a Maia who hadn't pledged his loyalty to Melkor.
Sauron looked at the ground. So many possible responses rushed through his mind—he let his guard down because he thought I would join him, he wanted to convince me that his ambitions would succeed by providing concrete plans, he was boasting about something, and I guessed what Melkor would do. But none of them would pass through his lips. To lie to the one he had already hurt so much, who was still looking at him with that love and concern, felt impossible.
Aulë noticed something different about Mairon as they talked. On the positive side, Mairon no longer looked ready to bolt from his presence. He didn't resemble prey watching a predator, ready to leap away at the slightest movement, as he had two days ago. Instead, Mairon stood more firmly, his aura slightly brighter.
But Mairon also looked resigned, as if he fully expected Aulë to be mad, angry at him, perhaps even to hate him. It was as if he had accepted this as his fate and was bracing himself for the inevitable rejection. Aulë's heart ached at the sight, a mixture of sorrow and determination surging within him. He could see the weight of guilt and fear pressing down on Mairon, casting a shadow over his once-brilliant spirit.
"Little flame," Aulë slowly began, gently turning Mairon's face toward him, "you can trust me."
Mairon flinched, and Aulë saw a flash of guilt. A suspicion started forming in Aulë's mind. "I thought that your reluctance to speak with me was because you considered Melkor's offer, but is there something more?"
Sauron hesitated again, the words heavy on his tongue like bitter herbs, before slowly asking, "What if I had done more?"
The repeat of yesterday's question startled Aulë. He remembered the almost frantic way Mairon had asked, "What if I had joined him? Helped him do terrible things? Or done even worse ones myself?"
"What did you do, Mairon?" Aulë softly asked.
Instead of responding, Mairon unblocked their bond.
A flood of emotions and fragments of memories poured through the connection, overwhelming in their intensity. Aulë's eyes widened as he saw glimpses of the dark deeds Mairon had committed as Sauron—destruction, manipulation, and betrayal. The images were vivid, the emotions raw and unfiltered. Aulë saw the conflict in Mairon's heart, the struggle against the darkness that had consumed him.
For a moment, there was only silence. The weight of the revelations hung heavily between them. Aulë took a deep breath, steadying himself as he processed what he had seen. Despite the shock and sorrow, he reached out, placing a comforting hand on Mairon's shoulder.
"Little flame," Aulë began, his voice gentle but firm, "I see now the burden you have carried. The things you have done are indeed terrible, but you have taken the first step toward redemption by revealing them to me. It takes great courage to face one's past."
Mairon looked up in disbelief, his voice trembling like a taut string, "Why aren't you mad at me for what I did in the previous timeline? I betrayed you." His hands trembled slightly, betraying the depth of his turmoil.
Aulë looked at Mairon with a mixture of sorrow and compassion. "Mairon," he began gently, "anger and blame are easy reactions. They come naturally when we feel hurt or betrayed. But they are not the reactions that lead to healing or understanding. When I saw the depth of your regret, the pain you carry for your past actions, I understood that condemning you wouldn't help either of us."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "My reaction is one of acceptance because I see the struggle within you. I see the desire to find a balance between your darker tendencies and your bonds. Your betrayal was deeply personal, yes, but it also showed me that you are capable of feeling regret and seeking connection."
Aulë's expression softened further. He glanced at the glowing embers in the forge before continuing, "We all have the capacity for darkness and light within us. What matters is the path we choose to follow."
Sauron listened intently, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. He had expected anger, condemnation, perhaps even rejection. But Aulë's acceptance and understanding were both a balm and a challenge to his self-perception.
"But I betrayed you, Aulë," Mairon said quietly, his voice tinged with disbelief. "I turned my back on everything you taught me, everything we worked for together. How can you just... accept that?"
Aulë smiled gently. "Acceptance doesn't mean forgetting or condoning what happened. It means recognizing that you are more than your past actions. You have the power to choose your path, to become someone better. Holding onto anger and resentment would only keep us both trapped in the past."
He placed a comforting hand on Mairon's shoulder. "I choose to believe in your potential for growth, Mairon. Your willingness to confront your past and seek a different path speaks volumes about your character. It takes immense strength to face what you have done and strive to find a balance."
Sauron felt a surge of gratitude and relief, mixed with a lingering sense of disbelief. He absently traced the edge of the workbench as he asked, "What will you do if I betray your trust again? If I use what I know of the future from the previous timeline for my own ends?"
Aulë's gaze hardened slightly, though the compassion remained. "Mairon, I understand the struggle within you. The temptation to use your knowledge for your own gain is strong. But know this—if you choose that path, I will do everything in my power to stop you. I will not allow you to bring harm to others or to yourself."
He paused, letting the words hang in the air. "But more importantly, I will continue to believe in your potential for change. I will stand by you, offering guidance and support, even if you falter. Because I believe that within you, there is still a spark of the Maia I once knew. And I will not give up on that spark."
Mairon felt a mixture of reassurance and unease. The path ahead was uncertain, and the choices he made would shape his future. But knowing that Aulë and the other Valar were there, ready to support him or stop him if necessary, gave him a sense of clarity. He was not alone in this struggle, and that knowledge was a powerful thing.
"Thank you, Aulë," Mairon said softly, the weight of his doubts lightened by the Vala's unwavering support.
Aulë nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. He placed a firm hand on Mairon's shoulder. "We will face whatever comes together, Mairon. Remember, the choice is always yours, and I will be here, no matter what path you decide to take."
With those words, Sauron felt a renewed sense of determination. The journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he was not alone. And for the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope.
Aulë embraced him, a caring gesture that spoke of forgiveness and hope, which was reinforced by the feelings Aulë sent through their bond. "You are my apprentice, my little flame. No matter what you have done, I will stand by you."
When Aulë hugged him, Mairon was torn between relaxing into the embrace and sighing. This was the second time in two days that he found himself hugged by a Vala. His brother was one thing, but being hugged by the beings that had terrified him in the previous timeline, the ones he had assumed would destroy him for all he had done, was... disconcerting.
The juxtaposition of fear and comfort warred within him. In the previous timeline, the Valar had been figures of immense power and judgment, distant and unforgiving. He had expected nothing less than their wrath should they ever learn of his betrayal. And yet, here he was, enveloped in an embrace that radiated warmth and understanding.
"I hope this isn't becoming a trend," Sauron muttered, his tension easing as he felt the genuine love and comfort through his bond with Aulë.
Aulë chuckled softly, his voice soothing Mairon's frayed nerves. "If it helps you feel supported, Mairon, then perhaps it is a trend worth embracing."
Mairon allowed himself a small smile, the tension in his body easing slightly. The bond with Aulë, once a source of pride and strength, now provided an unexpected solace. He could feel the Vala's unwavering support, the steady flow of reassurance and care that seeped through their connection.
"This is... new," Sauron admitted quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I never imagined the Valar could be so... forgiving."
Aulë's embrace tightened fractionally, a gesture of reassurance, his rough hands warm and steady against Mairon's back. "Forgiveness is a part of understanding, Mairon. I see the struggle within you, the desire to change. We do not forget the past, but we also recognize the potential for growth and redemption."
Sauron nodded slowly, absorbing Aulë's words. The fear that had gripped him for so long, the anticipation of judgment and retribution, began to ebb away. In its place, a fragile hope took root, nurtured by the compassion and support of those he had once feared.
As he stood there, held by the Vala he had once betrayed, Mairon felt a profound shift within himself. The path to redemption was still uncertain, fraught with challenges and internal conflict, but the possibility of change no longer seemed so distant.
"I will try," Mairon said softly, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "I don't know what the future holds, but I will try to find a different path."
Aulë smiled, a warm and encouraging expression. "That is all we ask, Mairon. One step at a time. We will be here to support you, every step of the way."
Mairon took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his past lift slightly from his shoulders. The journey ahead would be long and difficult, but he was not alone. With the support of Aulë, Olórin, and the other Valar, he felt a renewed sense of purpose and determination.
For now, he would focus on the immediate task—stopping Melkor's attack on Valinor and protecting those he cared about. The future, with all its uncertainties, would be faced one step at a time.
"When did Eru bring you back?" Aulë gently asked, still holding Mairon. The bond was still open, and he could sense that Mairon desperately needed support right now.
Sauron shifted in Aulë's arms, feeling both safe yet vulnerable, but despite his pride's urging, he couldn't find the will to move away. "A few days ago."
As he remained in Aulë's comforting embrace, the scent of smoke and iron in the air, Mairon felt a wave of love and protectiveness wash over him through their bond. He remembered how it used to be before everything changed—how Aulë had always supported him, even his craziest ideas. The Vala had tempered and watched over the more dangerous ones, guiding Mairon with patience and wisdom.
Sauron recalled the countless hours spent in the workshop, Aulë's steady presence beside him as they forged new creations. Aulë's trust had given him the confidence to explore the limits of his abilities, while his guidance had kept him grounded. Those memories now felt like a lifeline, reminding him of the connection they had once shared and the potential to rebuild it.
"So when we talked about the memory orbs...?" Aulë began.
"Second day," Sauron finished.
Aulë nodded to himself. That made sense. He had wondered why Mairon had gone from subtle signs that something was wrong to a blaring red flag. He recalled the mental conversations Mairon had with Námo, where only they seemed to know a deeper meaning to Mairon's questions.
"Does Námo know?"
"He was the one who convinced me to be more honest if I'm trying to decide which path is true for me," Sauron quietly replied.
Aulë's expression softened even further. "Námo has always had a way of seeing through to the heart of things. I'm glad he was there for you. And know that I am here for you too, Mairon. We all are."
Mairon nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude. "Thank you. Your support means more than I can express."
Aulë offered a gentle smile. "We will face this together. Now, let's focus on what we can do to stop Melkor. You said he attacks the trees to steal the Silmarils?" Aulë asked, his voice steady.
"Yes, he found a way to get Ungoliant into Valinor," Sauron confirmed.
Aulë frowned; they would need to shore up defenses even more. Since Melkor had left Valinor, they had already started layering more protections to prevent his return. But this would require more specific measures. "Can you tell me anything else about his attack?"
Mairon winced, and through the bond, Aulë sensed his discomfort. "I... don't really remember."
Aulë blinked in surprise. Mairon, who was well known for his brilliant mind and sharp memory, didn't remember something? Seeing Aulë's incredulous face, Mairon hurried to explain.
"I seem to have lost most of my memories of Valinor since I left. They are slowly, fragmentarily coming back, but not enough," Sauron said, frustration evident in his voice.
Aulë listened intently, his expression a mix of concern and protectiveness. Sauron hesitated, feeling the depth of Aulë's care and support. Despite the reassurance, a nagging doubt gnawed at him, and he knew he had to voice it. "Is it possible that the Valar... that you might have done it? Taken my memories to ensure that I couldn't use my knowledge of Valinor and its inhabitants to hurt them?"
Aulë's eyes widened in surprise and sorrow. He shook his head slowly. "Mairon, we would not do such a thing. The Valar value free will and the sanctity of each being's mind and memories. Even if we had feared your potential for harm, we would not have resorted to such measures. Our approach has always been one of guidance and hope for redemption, not manipulation."
Mairon frowned, his thoughts churning. Aulë, sensing the deep unhappiness emanating from Mairon through their bond, asked, "Why does that answer make you unhappy?"
Sauron looked away, his gaze drifting to one of Aulë's projects. It was an intricately crafted automaton, a delicate bird made of gleaming metal and precious stones. Its wings moved with mechanical precision, and its eyes glowed softly as it perched on a workbench. The sight of it, a testament to Aulë's craftsmanship and creativity, usually brought Mairon comfort. But now, it only deepened his turmoil. "Olórin said it must have been Melkor messing with them to ensure my loyalty."
Aulë frowned, considering this. It made a lot of sense and fit with Melkor's paranoid worldview that he couldn't trust anyone. He studied Mairon, trying to understand what exactly about that possibility upset him the most. The silence stretched between them, filled with the unspoken questions and doubts that plagued Mairon's mind.
"In the other timeline, I imposed my will on so many others. I kept prisoners, bending them to my will, denying them their freedom. It's ironic and horrifying to think something similar was done to me." Sauron softly admitted. And he had still been planning to subvert the free will of others in Middle-earth by subtly manipulating them using his future knowledge. Now, that path seemed less and less desirable.
He had assumed he could do both—gain power through dark means and keep his bonds by doing them secretly. Despite the fact that he knew none of the people who knew the truth about him would force him to choose a different path, the thought of disappointing them stung like being stabbed by a sword.
"It's indeed ironic, Mairon, but that irony doesn't absolve the pain you feel. Recognizing the wrongs committed against you is important for your healing." Aulë paused, then gently continued, sending a wave of reassurance at Mairon. "You have the strength to redefine yourself and choose a different, better path. You're already making differences here, little flame."
Mairon felt a surge of warmth, sensing Aulë's faith in him, but then he remembered Curumo. "I'm not sure all the changes I'm making are for the good," he admitted, his voice tinged with slight worry.
Aulë's brow furrowed in concern. "What do you mean?"
Mairon took a deep breath before explaining. "Earlier today, I saw Curumo. He looked far closer to the Maia who joined Melkor in my previous timeline. There was a stark difference from just yesterday. In my previous timeline, Curumo joined Melkor much later. I suspect that my refusal and avoidance have forced Melkor to focus on others early, potentially accelerating his plans."
Aulë considered this, his expression thoughtful. "Melkor is nothing if not opportunistic. Your presence and refusal to join him may indeed have prompted him to seek other allies sooner. But that doesn't mean you are responsible for their choices. Each being has the power to decide their own path."
"I understand that," Mairon said, feeling a tinge of guilt and uncertainty. "But knowing my actions could be influencing others in ways I can't control... it's difficult to accept."
Aulë nodded, gripping Mairon's shoulder reassuringly. "It's a heavy burden to bear, but I know you can handle it. We will keep a close watch on Curumo and others who might be vulnerable to Melkor's influence. You are not alone in this, Mairon. We are all working towards the same goal."
Mairon felt reassured by Aulë's faith in him. It was like a lifeline, pulling him out of the darkness he had been in for so long. The warmth of Aulë's hand on his shoulder, combined with the unspoken support from the bond they shared, gave Mairon a sense of belonging and acceptance that he had feared he would never feel again. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he could see a glimmer of light on the horizon.
Sauron, faced with Aulë's easy acceptance, found his mind drifting back to his previous plans. He had intended to convince the Valar to send him as one of their emissaries to Middle-earth, to use his future knowledge to take advantage of events and shape the world according to his vision. It was a plan that had seemed foolproof in its cunning simplicity. But now, with every rekindled bond and every person who found out the truth about him, the possibility of that plan succeeding was slipping further away.
Aulë's acceptance was a stark contrast to the harsh judgment Mairon had expected. It should have been comforting, but instead, it left Sauron feeling exposed and vulnerable. The more people who knew the truth, the more impossible his original plan became. He could no longer hide behind lies or manipulate events without betraying those who had shown him compassion and understanding.
As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Aulë sensed Mairon's inner turmoil. The bond between them, once a source of mutual strength and respect, now carried the weight of unspoken fears and conflicting desires.
"Mairon," Aulë said gently, breaking the silence, "I can see the conflict within you. You had plans, didn't you? Plans to use your knowledge of the future for your own ends."
Sauron nodded slowly, unable to meet Aulë's eyes. "Yes," he admitted. "I thought I could manipulate events, use my knowledge to gain power and reshape the world as I saw fit. But with every bond I renew, every truth that comes to light, that path becomes less viable."
Aulë's gaze softened with understanding. "It is not uncommon to seek control and power, especially with the knowledge you possess. But consider this, Mairon—true strength does not lie in manipulation and domination. It lies in the ability to change, to adapt, and to forge new paths."
Sauron looked up, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "But what if I fail? What if I can't find a new path? The plan to use my future knowledge seemed so clear, so certain. Now, everything feels... uncertain."
Aulë smiled gently. "Uncertainty is a part of growth, Mairon. It is in the moments of doubt and vulnerability that we find our true strength. You are not alone in this. We are here to support you, to help you find your way."
Sauron took a deep breath, absorbing Aulë's words. The path he envisioned, one of manipulation and control, now seemed hollow and fraught with betrayal. The alternative—a path of redemption and trust—felt equally daunting.
"Your acceptance," Mairon began, "it feels... strange. Melkor would see it as a weakness, a vulnerability to be exploited."
"Do you?" Aulë's voice broke into his thoughts, gentle yet probing.
"I... don't know," Sauron replied quietly, his gaze shifting to the floor. It felt odd, this notion of unconditional forgiveness. It was as if there should be a price one must pay before redemption is even possible or allowed. He had always believed that power and dominance were the ultimate goals, and that any form of leniency was a sign of weakness. But now, faced with the genuine compassion of Aulë and Námo, he found himself questioning those beliefs.
"It feels... strange," Mairon continued, searching for the right words. "Like there should be some kind of penance, a cost one must endure before they can be forgiven. Redemption shouldn't come easily."
Aulë nodded thoughtfully, understanding the conflict within Mairon. "Redemption is not easy, Mairon. It requires sincere effort, self-reflection, and a willingness to change. It is not a free pass, nor is it given lightly. The journey to redemption is fraught with challenges and obstacles. But the belief in the possibility of redemption is not a weakness; it is a strength. It shows faith in the capacity for growth and transformation."
Sauron looked up, meeting Aulë's eyes. "Melkor would see it as a vulnerability," he said, his voice tinged with the remnants of his old beliefs. "He would exploit it, use it against you."
Aulë's expression remained serene. "Melkor's perspective is limited by his own lust for power and control. He cannot comprehend the true strength that comes from compassion and understanding. He sees only what he can take, what he can dominate. But true power lies in the ability to forgive, to support others in their journey towards betterment."
The words resonated with Sauron, stirring something deep within him. The concept of redemption without a price felt alien, yet the sincerity in Aulë's eyes made him want to believe it was possible.
"Do you believe you deserve redemption, Mairon?" Aulë asked softly, his voice carrying a weight of concern and hope.
Sauron hesitated, the question striking at the core of his internal struggle. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know if I deserve it. I've done so many terrible things. It feels like there should be a penance, a way to balance the scales."
Aulë nodded, his expression compassionate. "Redemption is not about balancing scales. It's about recognizing your mistakes, learning from them, and making a conscious effort to change. It is about striving to do better, to be better. The path isn't easy, often fraught with pain and regret, but it's worth walking."
He placed a reassuring hand on Mairon's shoulder. "You are at the beginning of that journey, Mairon. It will be difficult, and there will be moments when you doubt yourself. But know this—I believe in your ability to change. I believe in your potential for good."
Sauron felt a mixture of relief and uncertainty. The road ahead was still unclear, and the internal battle between his darker tendencies and the rekindled bonds with those who cared for him was far from over. But Aulë's words planted a seed of hope within him, a small spark that suggested redemption might indeed be possible, even for someone like him.
"Thank you, Aulë," Mairon said softly, the words carrying the weight of his gratitude and the flicker of hope. "I will try. I don't know what the future holds, but I will try."
Aulë smiled gently, the warmth of his expression mirrored in the soft glow of the forge's light. "That's all anyone can ask for, Mairon. One step at a time. We will face whatever comes together."
With those words, Mairon felt a renewed sense of determination. The journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he was not alone. The future still felt uncertain, and he didn't like the feeling that his actions could change it in unpredictable ways. The thought of unintended consequences weighed heavily on him. But for now, he chose to focus on the present, on the tangible support he felt from Aulë. The one he had thought would hate him if he saw him truly was instead offering unwavering support and understanding.
Leaning on Aulë, Mairon allowed himself to absorb the warmth and reassurance emanating from his mentor. The path ahead was undoubtedly challenging, but with Aulë by his side, Mairon felt a newfound strength and determination.
After Mairon left, Aulë stood for a moment, reflecting on their intense conversation. The revelations about Mairon's past actions, his missing memories, and the impending attack by Melkor weighed heavily on his mind. With a sigh, Aulë decided it was time to seek counsel and support from his fellow Vala.
Reaching out through their bond, he contacted Námo. "Námo," Aulë began, his mental voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and concern, "thank you for helping Mairon. I fear he is more conflicted than we initially realized."
Námo's presence in Aulë's mind was calm and steady. "It was the right thing to do," Námo replied. "Mairon carries a heavy burden. His journey towards understanding and redemption will be long and arduous. How did your conversation go?"
Aulë took a deep breath before responding. "It was revealing. Mairon admitted to his plans of using his knowledge of the future for personal gain. He also spoke of the impending attack by Melkor and mentioned his missing memories of Valinor. It seems Melkor may have tampered with his mind to ensure his loyalty."
Námo's response was thoughtful. "The manipulation of memories is a grave violation. It complicates Mairon's path even further, as it blurs the line between his true intentions and those influenced by Melkor's deceit. Did he say anything specific about the attack?"
"Yes," Aulë confirmed. "He revealed that Melkor plans to attack the Two Trees and steal the Silmarils, using Ungoliant as his ally. Mairon's memories of the attack are fragmented, but he was clear about this. We need to bolster our defenses and prepare for this assault."
Námo's presence grew more focused, his concern evident. "This information is crucial. We must act swiftly to protect Valinor and the Trees. I will convene with the other Valar and inform them of these developments. We must ensure that every possible defense is in place."
"Agreed," Aulë replied. "But there is another matter. Mairon is torn between his darker tendencies and the rekindled bonds with us. He fears that if he succumbs to his darker inclinations, it will lead to betrayal once again. He is struggling to find his path."
Námo considered this, his mind reaching out to encompass the broader implications. "Mairon's struggle is a reflection of the greater battle between light and dark within all of us. His path will be fraught with temptation and doubt. But he is not alone. We must support him, guide him, and help him see that true strength lies in choosing the right path, even when it is difficult."
Aulë nodded, feeling a sense of solidarity with Námo. "You are right. Mairon's potential for growth and redemption is immense, but he needs our unwavering support. We must be vigilant, not just in protecting Valinor, but in helping Mairon navigate his inner turmoil."
Námo's agreement was swift. "I will ensure that the other Valar understand the gravity of this situation. We will strengthen our defenses and keep a close watch on Mairon. His knowledge and skills are invaluable, but his well-being is equally important."
"Thank you, Námo," Aulë said, a sense of relief washing over him. "Your wisdom and guidance are greatly appreciated. Together, we can face the challenges ahead and support Mairon in his journey."
With their connection still open, Aulë felt a renewed sense of purpose. The path ahead was uncertain, but with the combined strength and wisdom of the Valar, they could protect Valinor and guide Mairon towards a better future. The stakes were high, but so too was their resolve. United, they would stand against the impending darkness and forge a path towards hope and redemption.