Nár Tinwen (or: a Journey of Names)
3. Heat Underground
In the midst of the tunnels there was a high, lightless chamber with a throne-like chair by one wall. On the chair sat an unmoving figure clad in black. There was nothing else in the room.
Sauron was afraid. The presence of his master was distant. He was alone. He had tried to take command over the subjects of Melkor, but they were too interested in killing each other, or, in the case of the valaraukar, sleeping and gathering strenght for the future. The future – would there be a future? What if this was the end of it? What if the master never came back? What if...
Suddenly there was light in the room. Sauron shrieked and covered his eyes from a blazing golden flame in the air. He heard laughter sounding like fresh wood burning. Laughter of joy without malice. Slowly he opened his eyes to the light. In front of him there was, not a fire, but a woman with golden hair. He thought he regognized her from the past, but he did not remember who she might have been. His dearest memories were hazy, covered in the black slime of Melkor's power. Then she noticed her smile when, wordlessly, she took from her pocket a black stone.
"I miss you."
"Please!" Sauron fell to his knees.
"Anything. Just do not go away. Destroy me if you came for that. I let you."
"Then would you come with me to the Mahanaxar. For your judgement."
"For my captivity, you mean?" Sauron stood up.
She told him about Melkor's captivity and his freedom. Sauron asked many questions about the repentance of Melkor, and Tinwen answered him with confidence. Then Sauron told her he had suffered under the rule of Melkor and wished to be free, but he would not dare go to Aman because he did not want to see Melkor ever again, changed or not. Tinwen thought she understood him; she, too, had felt uncomfortable near Melkor.
"Because of him I lost you", they told each other.
"Set me free, Cal-Urunya!"
"How could I do this?"
"To begin with, call me Turon."
And Turon he looked like now, turning his clothes bright gold and blue, surrounding himself with pale golden light, tall and handsome and smiling. And loving.
"Oh, Turon, my love! Have you truly come back to me?"
Turon appeared to shudder with emotion; he fell to his knees again:
"Would you truly take me back, Tinwen"
"Yes I would."
A shadow fell over Tinwen's face. She had forgotten all about Eönwë. They had been together for ages, three ages to be precise, in Aman. Would she abandon all that in one moment under the ruins of Angamando with one who had served Melkor all those ages? Well, she had already, when she had given the ring back without explanations.
"I left him in Aman and I will not go back."
"Will you promise this to me?" Turon got up from the floor.
"Yes I will."
"Will you swear this by the Morglin-Stone?"
"By this Morglin-Stone that I hold in my hand, I, Tinwen Cal-Urunya, swear that I will not return to Aman for the sake of Eönwë the banner-bearer of Manwë. May my lady Vána witness this, and Melkor also."
Tinwen was not sure why she called Melkor to be the second witness, but she felt she must do this in order to make the oath more binding. However, she left herself the possibility to return West for the sake of Alatáriel.
No place on Arda is completely without beauty, for such is the power of Eru Ilúvatar. Thus, even under Angamando, there were hidden caverns full of colourful stalactites and stalagmites, gleaming crystal and clear waters. There were pillars of stone that reached up like trees in a forest, and veins of mineral that bloomed like flowers. The echoes of streaming water and the sounds of drops falling from stalactite to stalagmite sounded in places like birdsong, rustling leaves and even singing voices. Many areas like these had been destroyed by the servants of Melkor when they had built the fortress, but this was left undiscovered because it was surrounded all over by hard granite with no openings big enough for anyone to go through.
Ecxept, of course, if the one that wanted to go through could make herself very small. And Tinwen wanted to go everywhere. Even when in love and in the shape of an adult, she was curious, stubborn, easily bored, and childish. Turon found it difficult to keep in pace with her. She would scare him by disappearing and jumping at him from the roof, looking like a valarauka. She would try to tame an abandoned baby troll. She would dance on lava and bathe in fire. And she would go and follow any interesting tunnel, stream, or, in this case, a small natural opening in a cavern wall. Turon had refused to follow her through and was now waiting for Tinwen to return. Suddenly there was a shout for help from the other side. In no time Turon was there, following the echoes through darkness.
"Help! Water! I Can not get out!"
Water turns out the fire of a fire-spirit. Turon suddenly realised he was used to having Tinwen's light around him. He hastened his steps and came to a pool of dark water. Something was splashing in the middle of it. He dived. There were only bubbles. He scanned the bottom of the pool. There were only rocks. Desperate, he came to the surface. And was greeted by merry laughter.
"Look at you! Wet all over!"
Tinwen was standing on a rock, shining, child-shaped, and very dry. Turon got angry.
"You must never do that again! I thought I had lost you."
"I am sorry. But look at what I have found for us!"
And her light illuminated the entire cavern. Turon gasped. Together, they started exploring.
The most beautiful chamber Tinwen named Coimirer, the Living Jewels. It was a garden of chrystal flowers, a forest of stony pillars, a cave almost as fair as those under the mountains of Aman, where Aulë delved. Walking here, she missed nothing at all. Ecxept, sometimes, Alatáriel, to show her this place and walk there together. But maybe she would not understand, maybe her body of flesh would find the heat uncomfortable, maybe she would miss the stars and the wind and the living things, and her own kin. Maybe this place was a secret paradise meant only for two. New desires filled Tinwen's heart and flowed over. She stood there one such moment, waiting for Turon to come to her with the Morglin-stone he had borrowed for some reason.
He asked her to become his wife, and she accepted. And he gave her a gift: the Morglin-stone set in a golden chain decorated with rainbow-coloured diamonds. "I have put an enchantment on the gold,"he said, "it will not melt in the heat of your fire, my love." And he reached forth and set the chain on her neck and closed the lock. "Thus I take you mine".
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.