Mairon reflects on life in Eregion and the difficulties in forming the Nine.
Happens during s2 episode 5 "Halls of Stone"
This one-shot is kinda a continuation on Thoughts in the Dark, but there is no necessity to read that one before.
There is darkness. There is deep darkness around the flame of a single candle. The flame teeters and shudders in the dark, yet its strength ever masters over the forces that might try to extinguish it, the gust of wind that may quench it into nothingness. He admires the flame for its strength, for its power. There is little in this world that may withhold it, rock and stone may let it dance over their surface, but even there it will leave its mark. Wasn't it fire and flame that formed these lands like nothing else? In its hunger the flame transforms, transforms everything that it touches, bringing to light what would otherwise stay forever hidden, ridding things of their shell to bare their true essence. The flame purifies, and in its heat it creates, creates wonders that shimmer and shine.
"What great beauties the flame brings" he thinks as he lets his fingers dance over its head and its heart, its being obeying him without resistance, turning brighter and mightier at his will, before growing back to its simple natural form. And so the chamber is near dark again, the same chamber he was given some weeks before, well enough furnished for a king among Men, now given to the leisure of a messenger from the West, deep shadows growing where the light cannot reach, shadows dancing and moving like his own thoughts, never resting. There is such quiet just outside his door and window. It is night and even Elves need rest.
He doesn't.
There is no time to rest.
How fast a smiths work may go to waste if the metals and ores don't merge well with each other, how brittle the work may turn if there is something to mare its purity. The dwarven prince arriving is one of those things, sowing doubt and unease into a mind that had been carefully formed and prepared to craft great wonders. And the Seven truly are a wonder, if one that did not truly work as was designed. A error of thought on his own part, Mairon has to admit. He had forgotten that the nature of the Stone Folk was different from most other beings of this world. Wasn't there a tale of the Great Smith himself forming them? Be as it may, the dwarves will be of little service to him, their petty greed though at least keeping them occupied enough to not interfere too much with his own work. A pity though, that such great craftsmen will soon fall victim to the awakened Flame of the Depths.
The mind of the Lord of Eregion is brittle and desires great patience and care, no matter how pressing the time may be. The Elven Rings proof of his craftsmanship and powers. Yes, there are very few among the Elves who could equal these gifts, and Mairon admits that he enjoys their time working together, even though there is a lot of coaxing and persuading needed to get Celebrimbor to the right direction. Why does the Elf always question his advice and suggestions? Even putting on this ridiculous stubbornness about crafting Nine for Men. How is this world to be transformed if not with the countless number of Men who inhabit it? The dwarves eluded his reach, the Men must bow, and the Elves… their Rings must be his.
Elves are such sentimental beings, fascinated by the smallest and most unneeded things, often putting usefulness below sentiment. He has now spend nearly three moons among them, seen the ingenuity that went into building this city, the masterful engineering which had formed every single stone into magnificent towers and walls, water supply never lacking, rooms warm and bright, and yet they stoped from making more use from the mountain and the river that surround them, came to halt at any threshold that would require some sort of sacrifice. No, they rather leave things as they are, indulging in petty works of embroidery or childish play in hours that could be used better, composing rhymes and verses without any real meaning, or sitting by the hearth giving their time generously to acquaintances and idle talk. Though luckily, most of them hold him in too high esteem to attempt idle chatter with him on a daily basis, and then those rare occasions are not that hard to play into. Unexpected things may always arise, it is good to have their trust.
Having a ring give its bearer access to the Unseen World was one of such unexpected occurrences. He hadn't thought that the whole person could disappear into the realm of Shadow, that flesh could move in and out of worlds, yet tempering with the amount of mithril had opened up new possibilities. And new complications. The ever curious young apprentice had gotten a too good glimpse of him, drawing a rather unflattering image to the other smiths. That his former actions had given a toil on his being was a fact he couldn't evade, yet it would have been unhelpful to sow suspicion on his nature, especially after they were so close at finding the right technic to form the Nine. Her mind though was quite easy to coax back into the right form, spreading first worry towards her cherished Lord, simple words of flattery doing the rest. Would the Lady Galadriel scoff at the idea what awe her name alone inspires in others? How submissive some minds are.
Yet, even with the terrain well prepared, he cannot rest. Even with the master elven smith relenting to to start the most important project immediately, there is no telling how many unexpected distractions may arrive. An orc army would be one of such things.
How easy some minds are transformed through the ambers of ambition and desire.
Yet he is well versed in moving through both shadow and flame.