Rebellion by Uvatha the Horseman

The Offer

The Offer

Mairon was walking back from a distant farmhouse, where he'd delivered a bag of nails. He earned pocket money by making nails or simple tools in his free time and selling them to neighbors. All the tabs he was picking up for his recruitments were beginning to add up, so he was making a lot more nails than usual.

It was getting late, but even so, it seemed dark and oppressive. The clouds were low and moving fast. He watched them darken from greenish grey to pitch black. They weren't clouds, they were Vala. Who took form and stood beside Mairon.

Melkor.

Mairon thought about Melkor all the time and longed to be near him. But when Melkor appeared unexpectedly, Mairon fell silent, suddenly shy.

"When we spoke last, I offered you a position as one of my Captains." said Melkor. "I've come to make the offer again."

"You offered me power. I'm not interested in power." said Mairon.

"You would be, if you'd ever had it." said Melkor.

Mairon was silent. Melkor lured most of his followers with the promises of power, but Mairon didn't find it very tempting.

"I can't believe it doesn't interest you. Tell me then, what's your dream? What would you wish for if you could have anything you wanted?"

"I want my own smithy with my own cottage nearby, and a wife to share it with."

"And if you stay here, what are your chances of getting those things?"

Just about zero, as you well know.

"Why are you interested in me, anyway? I didn't even sing your themes in the Music." said Mairon.

"You're different from the rest of my people. You're responsible. You work hard. You're someone I can rely on. I see in you all the same things that Aulë does. And more. I see in you the seeds of Greatness."

Mairon raised his head, looking for signs that Melkor was teasing. He wasn't.

"I need someone who will complete the things I conceive. Who will cover my back. Who's intelligent enough to 'get' me." said Melkor.

Mairon was silent, trying to absorb the things he'd just heard.

"One more thing. You're a craftsman. I offer you the liberty to conceive your own designs, and the resources to affect them quickly.

Melkor waited. He didn't appear to be in any hurry. He watched while Mairon struggled to decide.

Finally, Melkor reached out his hand. After a moment's hesitation, Mairon took it.