Organum by mairoff

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Organum

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They don’t see it, they don’t understand it. Along the years they would judge and dissect each of their words, interactions, actions - belligerent or otherwise. Melkor is the monster, the root of evil, the blight upon Arda. He is the enemy, the killer and aggressor of many. And perhaps they are right, perhaps there is truth - no, there is truth in it. Melkor was all of this. But he also is so much more to Mairon. A friend, a confidant, a mentor, a lover and a husband if only in name.

 

This, they don’t see it.

 

Mairon did not start as a bad seed, he does not think there is something specifically messed up within him that can explain his choice. He was made in the same manner by Eru, as the rest of the Ainur. He is not cursed, is not fundamentally bad in some hidden ways.

 

Mairon cannot even explain - or rationalise - why he did what he did. There is nothing within him at first that attracts him intrinsically toward Melkor’s chaos. On Almaren, under the shadows of the Lamps he is not dreaming of devastation or scorched fields filled with elves corpses, he is not dreaming of helping torture and corrupt prisoners in such an irremediable way they became another doomed species of hatred. He is not even considering advancing in the field of dark wizardry, of necromancy, of spell-binding, of casting his name away and all that makes him, to grasp for more and more power, for a fear of failure turning so blinding, so numbing, he feels nothing anymore.

 

No, Mairon the Admirable thinks of naught of this. What he thinks of is endless possibilities this new world represents, of crafting beautiful things, of feeling his fires run through the veins of the earth, at the roots of the mountains he helped Aulë with.

 

But perhaps, he has always wanted for more, for less limitations, for a blank canvas that would be his to do as he wished with. Mairon looks at Almaren, its symmetry and loves it. Yet Mairon looks at Almaren and feels its stagnation, its immobility, its finality.

 

When Melkor approaches him it is not necessarily out of ill intents - he thinks. As Aulë’s second he enjoys a certain reputation - one that gives him the moniker Admirable. No, Mairon does not start evil at all.

 

Though, perhaps it is in his nature to ever evolve, ever iterate, he is fond of empirical processes and his surroundings feel small and smothering sometimes. But Mairon laughs, Mairon cares, Mairon even loves.

 

And that is his own doom.

 

Mairon goes to Melkor out of curiosity, he has a scientist mind, theories must be proved or disproved. Mairon goes to Melkor and finds a friend in the dark Vala. Mairon goes to Melkor and falls in love.

 

How comes love be evil? No, love is pure and impartial and so Mairon loved Melkor. Loved him at first, loved him during his imprisonment, loved him during his madness, loved him beyond time and space and beyond any reasons.

 

Love has been his joy and his doom. Love has shown him a brand new world to explore, love has shown him the lengths he could go to in order to keep it by his side.

 

Mairon loved Melkor and Melkor loved Mairon. He thinks. In his own way. Melkor has shown him that every transformative work must go through a destructive phase. After all, how can one experiment change in a finite state?

 

And so Mairon had experimented, had delighted in his newfound freedom of artistic creation, had pushed back the limits of what a Maia could do under the patronage of the Valar in Aman.

 

What is so wrong to want to be the best version of yourself?

 

But along the way, he seems to have lost some clarity of purpose. Oh the Orcs, well…they needed an army - he helped when asked. Melkor and him did such tremendous inventions, the dragons? a masterpiece.

 

So what?

 

So what if it has been labelled as blasphemy, a heresy, a corruption of his natural gifts. Melkor praised him, Melkor trusted him. Mairon who despite his skills, despite being admired by all in Almaren, Mairon who has always been Aulë’s second, always Aulë’s Maia. Always someone else’s and never his own person, never his own accomplishments. This is no hubris, no arrogance, it is simply what it is. He should not feel ashamed to want to be recognised for his prowess.

 

Yet this is the issue underlying isn’t it. That in the end he never was, oh Melkor cared, Melkor trusted, Melkor delegated. Out of necessity most of the time. Melkor lacked focus, lacked clarity of mind after the cursed Jewels entered their lives. Mairon has been there to carry out their plans, Mairon has awaited and Mairon has knelt in fealty, in honour, in love that has slowly dissolved into a mere shadow of what they had.

 

Mairon just wanted to be happy, just wanted to love and do what he loved: create. If it all turned to ashes in the following ages it has been out of despair, out of lost equilibrium. He had tried dammit! He has gone to the Elves, he had a plan.

 

They ruined it all-

 

They always ruin it all.

 

And to what end anyway. Mairon wanted this to end, and wanted the charade to be over. He has laughed and laughed, and watched the foolish Númenoreans go on an unholy war and what has been his reward? Not even oblivion, not even reunion - no. The AllFather casted him down the ocean but Mairon- no! No more Admirable. Sauron. Sauron, the Deceiver, Sauron the Enemy.

 

Sauron, the Dark Lord.

 

They wanted him to play that part. And so he has been one. What limits were at play there? if all of his actions still aren’t enough, if corruption, dessacration, genocide, enslavement, if all of it is still not enough- whatwas the bloody point?

 

He remembers once - perhaps during his slumber in the dark tower being rebuilt anew- he remembers a tree made of fire. A splendid tree indeed. All Sauron has is a mountain of fire. Well, it suits him fine. Soon. Soon there will be order. And then perhaps, perhaps there will be an end. A final state of entropy that will shed some answers.

 

Why has Melkor been created? Why has Mairon been created? What is the purpose of their existence if love could not save them, if love doomed them. If -

 

Ah but there is nothing to discover, no obscure arcane to unearth. It is the way it is.

 

But he has lost it. The way he has lost Melkor, the way love turned to ashes, the way every single path has been barred to him. What remains ? what remains if not the graveyard of his ambition, if not the tomb of his own chimère. 

 

He has wanted an out, he has wanted an end, he has wanted to fix things, and he has wanted peace. Do they think he wants to be this ? He does not know anymore, he wants his Ring too. He wants Melkor, and he wants to die. 

 

Mairon just wanted to be happy.

 

Why was this so hard to understand? 

 

Melkor has welcomed him, never judged him, always supported him and encouraged his research. He is so alone now. so lonely. 

 

Why, why, why is he alone?

 

Mairon- no Sauron, ah and there this Ring, his Ring. It calls Precious, Precious, Precious . Melkor used to call him this. And kiss him. Mairon has been beautiful once. Now the ruins of his Fate stare back at him in a crackled mirror. What does he see? Red? Charred flesh. A storm of fire.

 

He is fire but he burns himself, the skin tears and breaks and he wants his Ring and he wants Melkor and he wants to win the war and for everybody else to be quiet! He wants silence. He wants -

 

He wants to kill, he wants to dominate, he wants to crush them under the heel of his power. How dare they? Insignificant lifeforms. He is a god! He is fire and rage and sorrow and pain and regrets. 

 

He made this world, this word is his. Middle Earth is his! He has been there the longest! His, his, his . 

 

The Ring is his! It says Precious, mine, Precious ; it calls to him. Melkor calls to him. Melkor said he was his . 

 

He has been his. But. But no more the word Precious sings around him. Ah. No more songs.

 

He has tried so hard. He has tried everything . 

 

Master, please. 

 

Master, I have tried he sobs amongst the collapsing ruins, amidst the swirling clouds of defeat, through the oppressive realisation, over the shattering of ego.

 

Master please. He is so alone. 

 

Sauron does not want to be so alone. 

 

Sauron does not- 

 

Sau-

 

What is he? What is-

 

 

AllFather please. I’m sorry.