Chapter Five: Aulë.

I am beginning to realise what a commitment it is to keep up to date with a blog. First thing in the morning is always a rush, with both my husband and I trying to get to work, and, invariably, both wanting use of kitchen, bathroom etc at the same time. In the evening I need to mark, and do preparation, and then it is time for bed! What a life! But I WILL get better organised. To that end, I have had news today that my application to have the rest of the summer term off school has been accepted. So Thursday 11th May will be my last teaching day! I shouldn't be so excited, because I love teaching, but I have been so stretched with work of late that all I can think of is having a few days to just sleep.

The next matter for consideration is whether I go back in September? Some of my colleagues keep telling me I am a 'natural', and the last thing I should do is leave education. Then my husband just wants me out of the school system. 'Do a Phd; do a writing course,' he says! I am not quite sure what I want. Therein lies the problem!


But at least I can absorb myself in my fiction writing at the moment. After a hard days marking of coursework, it is bliss to lose myself in Valinor again. LOL



Nerdanel's Story. Chapter Five: Aulë


(Disclaimer: All of the characters, places, and the main story line are JRR Tolkien’s wonderful creations. All references are from The Silmarillion, or HoME Vols 10 or 12. Nothing is mine, except the interpretation and any mistakes, and in this chapter, and only in the sense they are derived from reading the works of Tolkien, the characters ‘Gaerion’ and ‘Tulcon’. Narwasar is the character of my friend, Bellemaine, and used with her permission.)


“Aulë it is who is named the Friend of the Noldor, for of him they learned much in after days, and they are the most skilled of the Elves; and in their own fashion, according to the gifts which Iluvatar gave to them, they added much to his teaching, delighting in tongues and in scripts, and in the figures of broidery, of drawings and of carving. The Noldor also it was who first achieved the making of gems; and the fairest of all gems were the Silmarils, and they are lost.”

(Of the beginning of days. The Silmarillion J.R.R. Tolkien. Ed C. Tolkien)



The house of Sarmo Urundil. Seventh Age.



I contemplate what lies before me, in the none-too-distant future. For I allow my fëa to consume my hröa, and this is unusual for one who has always dwelt in the Blessed Realm. I do not mean to bring anyone’s heart low with my talk of such. None have so chosen to do in many a year, not here, at least. If I choose to seek release from bodily form, it is not quite that same fading that my kindred in the Hither Lands have experienced. There indeed, did all of the remaining Quendi*, both Eldar* and Avari* alike, grow weary in hröa after much passing of time, and they were consumed eventually by their own fëa, so that the body remained only in love and in memory. Most, if not all, that linger in that which was called Middle Earth, are now so consumed. They are still there, those very few, but invisible to the eyes of the Secondborn will they be.

I speak of something else! In Aman, does the blessing of continuity of hröa and fëa exist. Once we who were born here reach fullness of being, reach our full strength, we remain in that state, aging only with the slow speed with which Arda ages. I may endure here in full strength until the End, as may all of my people. It is a choice I speak of when I talk of fading! Not a wish to ‘not be’, as was Míriel’s first intention, but a wish to be free of the pain and the burden of memory that in this Age ever presses upon me. While in the passing of the Ages, many have been returned to their kin, most of those who took part in the rebellion who so wished, (even Angaráto* and his son, though Aikanáro* will not return!), such is not possible for my family. Nay, it is said, not until the End may Fëanáro return! Sundered from my lord and our sons too long have I been. I, who have lived through so much, seek rest and healing, and consider evermore that only in the company of Námo Mandos will I find such.

Not that all my life has been sorrow. Far from it! Much of those first years, the years of the children, were ones of delight. Those years remain in my memory as the most happy, of times. And even after all of my sons had rebelled against the Valar and left Aman, all of my sons were under curse, there were times when joy again touched me. For there was much that my nature still compelled me to fulfil. I did not 'fade' when they departed Valinor, departed from my life, nor did I 'fade' when he died, though for long did I wish that I had died with him. In those years after that greatest grief, I was sustained by my own will and hope that one at least of my family would return to me. Sustained also, was I, by my parents and friends, and by Aulë.

****


Now it had happened that, due to my despondency regarding the absence of Fëanáro, and my realisation of Gaerion’s thoughts and hopes concerning me, my father recommended we rode out to the Great Court of Aulë, which bordered on the north of the open vale, in Valmar. Urundil wished to consult with Aulë regarding the crafting of a particular gemstone, intended as a gift for Oromë. He also wished for me to speak with that master of crafts concerning my own further training, and my desire to enter his service. With my parents and I, at that time, rode the highly skilled Narwasar, another of my father’s apprentices, and our most promising stonemason.

We spoke lightly together upon that journey through the Calacirya of plans and works we had in mind, but that had not yet been realised. For all four of us had eager minds and hands for the making of things, and it was our delight so to do, and to seek whatever guidance from our lord, Aulë, we wished. Aulë was, in those times, ever the friend of the Noldor, and would lead us in exploring and developing those gifts given to us by Ilúvatar to the fullest. As we journeyed on, past familiar landmarks, streams and rocks and hills that spoke to me already of many memories of my few years, of my many visits to Aulë, I found to my consternation that my thoughts turned often to him with whom I had last ridden this way. I had intended to befriend Fëanáro, (I allowed myself to think!), to be a companion who could ease his distress, but foolishly, I then thought, had I allowed my feelings for him to grow. And as it had been long since his last visit to me, I desired to put those feelings and hopes he had inspired aside, and pursue my life as I had before we had met. Yet he was not at all easy to dismiss from my thoughts.


Glad was I to arrive in Aulë’s Halls again. That wondrous house had been full of beauty for me from my earliest memories. The high vaulted roofs, and many of the walls, were covered with gossamer-fine webs woven with great craft from the glint of the stars, or from threads of gold and silver and iron and copper; all portraying some aspect of the themes of the Great Music, picturing many things that were, and some that shall be. (And some things pictured in Aulë’s house are yet to come to fulfilment, even as we speak!) I had always looked upon those webs with fascination, and endeavoured to see if the tales of any I knew were illustrated therein. But I had not at that time fully understood the design, so my mind had not grasped some of that which plainly lay before me.


My father spoke first with he from whom we held in such love and honour, and heard much praise from the Vala for his own recent accomplishments. As to Urundil’s request for aid, Aulë said that they would walk together in much discussion in the coming days, and all help and advice would be freely given. Then did the dark haired Narwasar stand forth, and make his request, at which Aulë nodded with approval and spoke encouragement. Narwasar was accepted as an Aulendur from that meeting onwards, and he received from Aulë’s own hands the band of copper to be worn about his head as the sign of his loyalty and devotion. At last, did the Vala turn to me, though in no manner did he make me feel the least of that group.

“I hear from Urundil that thou also wish to become an Aulendur, Nerdanel?” Aulë, greeted me that day with a foreknowledge of that which I sought. “ No small thing is this for thou to ask, for first among the maids of the Noldor art thou to seek such of thine own accord.”

I curtsied deeply to Aulë, whom I trusted beyond all. “But never has it been said that nissi* may not do that in which neri* delight! For are we not equal in all things? In inclinations and interests do we often differ, but even that is not always so, my Lord!” I stated with boldness.

Aulë smiled at me, almost with fatherly affection, and I was well pleased with his attention. (Always did Aulë desire to love and teach others, so they may better understand the wonders of Eä.)

“Indeed, both are equal, save in the bringing forth of children,” he replied. Then he paused for a moment in consideration. “From birth have I known thee, little maid, and seen thy progress. Thou doest honour me by thy request! Thou would I trust with those secrets of lore that only those most devoted to me know. And other things also do I hope for thee.”

My father stepped forward again, to speak more praise of me and to elaborate upon my growing skills with metalwork. Aulë allowed Urundil to indulge himself in this boasting, though it made me feel rather uncomfortable, but at last, seeing my discomfort, the Vala raised a hand for my father to pause.

“Peace, Urundil! Of thy love and pride of thy child do I know in detail. But tell me now of that other child of the Noldor who has been paying visit.”

I must have looked startled at this turn in the conversation, and I glanced sideways to my father. Surely Aulë meant Fëanáro?

“The son of Finwë has had occasion to visit with us, although he has not done so of late. He rides out or walks in the hills with Nerdanel, rather than visit with me, however.”

Aulë smiled, rather too knowingly to my mind. It seemed to me then that the master smith had already heard much of Fëanáro’s visits, and from whom but the prince himself?

“That is good to hear, for he has much in common with her. He also speaks most highly of thy daughter to me.” With those words did Aulë confirm my suspicions, and quicken my heart. “And his works, his skills; how doest thou find them, Urundil?”

Here did my father pause, reflecting upon the honest answer that he would of course give. He had only spoken of crafting with the prince a few times, and they had spent some time in the forge, but it was little on which to deliver such an assessment. At last Urundil raised his head.

“My Lord, he is the most perceptive Elda I have ever spoken with on matters of crafting. The delight of creation is in him, and the desire of mind to make things new and wonderful. Great skill has he already in mind and in hand, and if he will learn to use his knowledge well and to take counsel and instruction from others then I deem that few if any will surpass him.”

“That is well!” Aulë spoke thoughtfully. “Indeed, it is more than well! Greatly do I love the son of Finwë, for I see in him more skill like unto mine own than in any other that is, or that will ever be. Much may he do for the glory of Arda in the fullness of time. I would have him learn from me, so do thou teach him, when and as he wills, with my blessings. If he asks for mine own aid, even that will I give unto him. But a warning I give also, for I tell thee now, great though thou art, Urundil, he will yet surpass thee by far!”

My mother touched my arm, and we both looked to my father’s expression, for these could be bitter words to one in his position. Proud of his skills my father was, and he took his responsibility seriously, though also with much joy. But this was Urundil, who had watched Aulë take counsel from and praise others, and who would always listen to others himself.

(Indeed, often did my father speak of humility as a virtue; something that not all Noldor seemed to consider! I grew up most familiar with the account of how Aulë, in his humility, had been prepared to destroy the work of his hands, the Dwarves, because he had fallen into folly. Though such an account was, most likely, but a tale, such an example from a Vala was one I held dear for many ages. I should have liked to meet with a Dwarf, with one of Aulë’s strong and stubborn children. One there was who came to Tol Eressëa in the Fourth Age, a friend of a Sinda Prince, and of she whom is known to many as Galadriel, but I know as Artanis. He died long ago, that Dwarf!)

My father bowed before Aulë. “It will be joy to aid one who so has your favour, my Lord! Though first was I concerned about his mood, now that I have met with him, and spoken freely, do I see him differently. When he surpasses me in skill, which cannot be many years hence, then it is all to the good, all to the glory of Eru!” (At that name did I bow my head for a moment. We spoke not often of Eru, understand. To speak aloud the name of Iluvatar, the Father of All, was a solemn matter.)

“And thou will help him also? Thou wilt be at his side if he so asks?” questioned the Vala.

It took a moment before I realised Aulë now spoke to me, and I was reminded of that request from Míriel to give her aid. Prompt was my response. “Aye, Lord, willingly, if I can! My skills exceed his only in stonework at the moment, however.”

Aulë laughed then, deep and rich, a sound of the earth itself. “Thou knowest well of what I speak, Nerdanel. It is not of stonework!”

Colour rushed to my face, as it had not for some time. “Dost thou find Fëanáro pleasing to thee, lady?” Aulë asked, more kindly.

“Aye, my Lord! I find him exceedingly pleasing,” was my soft spoken reply, and no truer words could I have said. But bold daughter of Urundil though I was, self-consciousness threatened to overcome me, and with a curtsy, I begged to take leave of Aulë for the moment, to walk amongst the trees of the Court.

The Vala looked at me with good humour for a moment more. “With him, thou could create works beyond thy dreams,” he said, “If it is thy will also! But take thy leave now, and reflect upon what has been said. I welcome thy fealty at any point thou dost choose to give it, Nerdanel, but think well upon what it will entail.”

****

As I wandered under the green canopy of the trees, I thought to lose the redness in my face, but the mere recall of Aulë’s question and statement caused me to blush anew. Fëanáro liked me well enough to speak of me with Aulë, and the Vala’s implications were that, far from being at an end, our relationship had only just begun.

“It may be,” I said aloud, believing myself to be alone, “that nothing will come of this,” though my heart wished otherwise. “And Aulë will take me into his service and in that will I be content.”

“And thou will follow not where love leads? The affinity of fëa is a sacred matter, and not easily set aside,” replied a musical voice.

Were the look on Yavanna Kementári’s face not so sympathetic, I would have nigh perished of humiliation! The tall, green clad, spouse of Aulë motioned for me to come and walk beside her and, with a face as hot as fire, I complied. In spite of my determination to speak not of Fëanáro before I had time to ponder Aulë's words, I soon found myself relating to her all that was in my heart, all my hopes, not only concerning the prince, but of becoming a chosen servant of her spouse.

Yavanna patiently listened to all, offering me a golden fruit that had fallen from one of her trees as we walked. We paused at the edge of a small clearing, and she looked at me thoughtfully, as if seeing my future unfold. “Think well before thou dost make any vow, Nerdanel, either to he who would be thy life’s companion or to my husband’s service. Both vows would be binding upon thee, and may not be broken! And if thou doest promise to serve Aulë, sincere though thou art, I see a time when thy loyalty to him will be put sorely to the test. And thy heart will be pierced with sorrow.”

I did not dare ask her what she saw. Had I known the answer, I would have had to abandon hope of ever being Fëanáro’s bride or Aulë’s vassal, and I would do neither!

But then Yavanna took on a happier frame of mind. “Thou doest honour my spouse by thy sincerity, lady. He knows that thou would willingly be viewed as different in order to serve him.” She smiled. “This I honour in turn, and say to thee truly: thou shalt bear much fruit, whichever of the two roads ahead thou chooseth to take, and thy creations will be renowned in this land, and mayhap in others.”

I bowed my head in reply, stubbornly determined to travel both roads. Of the folly of that decision have I long ago repented!



*
Quendi = Original name for Elves of every kind.
Eldar = ‘People of the Stars”. Used here to refer to the Three Kindreds only; the Vanyar, Noldor and Teleri.
Avari = ‘The Unwilling’. Name given to all those Elves who did not originally journey West.
Angaráto and his son = Angrod and Orodreth.
Aikanáro = Aegnor
Neri = He Elves
Nissi = She Elves