ABOUT THE DOWNFALLEN

Heather Divoky

"It is dangerous."

He turned as she walked steadily up to him, a mere peasant daring to speak so. Yet there was more to this girl, far more then most could see. Though, he saw enough.

"We have forgiven you already. Do not mess it up. Even thoughts are dangerous, and actions are unforgivable. There are no more chances."

He decided to play along with her.

"And what would you know of such matters, commoner? Who do you seek to impersonate?" He paused, noting the unquenched expression that would not leave her face, and stopped. "Would you shed more than one tear if you knew what has passed through my head." It was easier to be maliciously brave when he was not facing the true majesty of his foe, hidden now from mortal eyes in a costume of rags and filth.

"Dirt suits you."

A sudden gust penetrated the small courtyard in which they stood, now reasonably empty. It was a reminder, this wind, though he did not comprehend it. A red sun sailed her ship into the horizon as Elenna began to sleep. The girl turned from him to look at the last of Arien, silent but for words that she mummered:

"You forget your place, Maiar."

He smiled, brushing this insignificant fact aside.

"For what reason do you come here, Fui? For hope in redemption? For hope in this land, hope for me?"
"I suppose. More to give you a final chance, to see if this is your final choice."

"It is."
"It is a doomed one then."
"It is a right one. Why hold your lands from good, kind men when you and the elves hoard it?"
She looked at him with no expression, for now she understood his full intent. Another wind, this time a disenchanted breeze, lightly flew through the courtyard, now empty and glowing in the pale moon’s light.
"Fallen." She whispered finally, sadly, looking away.

He turned from her, grinning viscously.

"Risen. I will rise. I will be what you, nor that softhearted bird, nor any except Melkor could be. I will be more powerful than any, and make Middle Earth my own. With the dawn of the morrow I will command the King to Valinor and rise in victory!"
He turned back, his excitement full grown, but she was gone.

For the first time, doubt crossed his face.

* * *

The morning came swiftly as a ravenous wolf, not beautiful and glorious but scorching and deadly. Arien seemed to be an ill omen for him. The night before had not faded in the least, but instead gleamed with warning.

The King’s chambers stood before him, counselors sitting amid a roaring fire, stuffing their faces like the gluttons they had become. What pride it gave him to know that he was truly the one in power, that all these men were but pawns in his own little chess game. Especially the one in the far corner.

The King.

"My Lord, how do you fair this morning?"

"Well enough I suppose, for a man dying."

"You sound bitter, if I may sound so bold."

"You do not know, you will never know." The old man whispered this, quiet, iridescent of his youth. Glimpses of blond were highlighted in his hair, now a decrepit gray.

The Maiar nodded, admitting for one of the few times he ever would that he was wrong. "Which is why I have come to speak to you, my Lord. You are old and weary. The Valar hold something from you, something you deserve…" his voice trailed off as he noted, just a few paces from him, her.

She was richly dressed, but it still dimmed to her true being.

"Excuse me, My lord."

* * *

"You are still here."

"I am."

"Why? You know my full aim."

"And yet we all know how cunning you are."

He grinned, pride spreading across his beautiful face, making it twisted and vile. "I suppose. But Lady, I assure you, you know all there is to see here. Unless, that is, you wish to stay for…other reasons." He had dared to suggest it. There was no going back. "We would be great together, you and I. They would be no match for us. I would not even have to use these silly little men. It is possible. We could have it all."

"Oh, but my naïve Maiar…" she whispered in a soft tone. "You would have it all, myself included." She stared, a glimpse of disgust and sorrow washing over her vibrant face. Turning, she left, a mere shadow gliding across the King’s chamber. So soundless and seamless did she float out that not even the King, nor his gluttons, who were, by this time, on their sixth breakfast course, noticed the shimmer of sublimity in their mists.

He watched her until she was out of sight, and stood, staring, longer than necessary, afterwards.

"Shall I follow her?" The voice that came from behind him was cold, heartless, melodic to his ears. He turned to see the dark seductress, her eyes of steel eager, strangely, to please him.

He laughed softly, playing with a lock of her rich, raven hair. "I suppose Thuringwethil, but do not hope to get to fair. She is too swift for you, even in your lovely mammal form."

"Bats are faster than you think."

"Faster than the light of a sorrowful star? I think not. Yet go while you may, my sweet vampress."

Thuringwethil veered to leave, a clear frustration written across her deadly face. She stopped though, as if a ray of Vana had hit her, and spun around. "Your heart…it’s…it’s warmed to her..."

"Get out!" He hissed, his anger getting the better of him. The King and his men stared at the sudden outburst,

though many of their eyes drifted over to the dark seductress, who softly ran out. She was hunting for an impossible prey.

Regaining his composure, he walked over to the King, finally ready to reveal a doom that would plunge this land unto the bosom of Arda.

* * *

"Sauron has chosen his course." She whispered.

"You are sure?"

No one was in the small courtyard. Only the wind that seemed to carry a hint of tired hope and a bird of royal blue who spoke to the lovely, weeping being. She looked up, toward the West, and sadly nodded.

"Then come home. The One will take care of it."

She faced the wind, and understood.

"But so many will die…. what of those innocent?"

The wind blew a bit harder, stern, yet still calm. The bird stood still, and firmly said, "Do not question the One. He sees all. He will shield those that will protect the future. Elenna will be gone, but there is still Middle Earth to think about. Weep for Elenna, and know that it is not Middle Earth that you weep for, not yet."

She understood. "I will come when Tillion has peeked into the skies."

The bird looked at her quizzically, but flew off anyway. The Wise knew where boundaries were, and he sensed he was near one. He knew there was a great deal of history between Fui and Sauron, but he also knew that she had given up on the stubborn and prideful Maiar. For what purpose did she stay?

She stayed, for that brief amount of time, to remember how he once was.

In many ages past, beyond the count of time, the name Sauron did not conjugate such memories of fear and loathing when rolled off the tongue. Then, he was a great speaker, one filled with wisdom, and she knew him well…very well. But pride was his true downfall, and fall he did, promised under false pretenses everything, and yet still he had not gotten anything. Or at least anything he wanted. Her thoughts rolled through countless memories of him, memories in past ages of when they had been friends. So sad was she to hear that he had fallen for the deception of Melko, and yet, she wasn't necessarily surprised.

The Sun slowly sank, and the Moon began its hopeless chase. Her work was done. Quietly, she shed her many human forms, until her full sublimity returned. Weeping, she left for Valinor.

* * *

He watched from a window facing the West. "This was my choice, Nienna," he whispered, halfway to himself. "Whence I return to Valinor, you shall be the first I seek, and the first that I will tame." He grinned wickedly, not knowing that as these thoughts ran through his head, the doom of Numenor had already been set, and time was the only factor that now remained.

~End~

© Heather Divoky 2004