The Parchment of Secret Valian Tales by SonOfMandos

The Holy Bath

Aulë builds a bathtub.

Mairon held the watering can carefully. To his displeasure, his wolf form did not allow him to water the plants with great precision. To hold objects with his mouth was not the same as holding tools with his hands. He compromised and his physical body was a hybrid between a wolf and a Dwarf. Aulë looked like a Dwarf and his hands had much dexterity. Or rather, Dwarves looked like Aulë. Mairon shook his head: the right order of who looked like who was irrelevant because Dwarves were put to sleep and could not awake yet. Technically, no one knew what a Dwarf look like, save for Aulë, his Maiar, and two other Valar, so the comparison to Dwarves was meaningless.

Eldar were stirring. Dwarves would wake later, or so planned Eru. Melkor obviously disagreed with it and built caves in secret for Aulë’s children. Of all people, Melkor understood Aulë’s will to create the best. Or perhaps he was equal to Yavanna—the Valië too loved life. Her Ents roamed free in Middle Earth, and were not endangered because Melkor was smart enough to build underground sanctuaries for them too, and it never crossed Eru’s mind that a tree could walk and speak. So Eru paid Ents no heed since he was not aware of their existence at all. Just like Mairon and his hybrid physical appearance, Ents were a strange mix of a Dwarf and a tree. Aulë said that Elves did not look like a mix of a Dwarf and something else. They were like tall, hairless, skinny Dwarves. Mairon decreed Elves were boring and Eru lacked imagination.

As he was watering a bunch of purple flowers, Mairon wondered if Dwarves and Ents needed to be watered, too. Water was an odd necessity in all living things, he noticed. Except for him. Part of him feared water because water could tame fire, and he obviously had no wish to be tamed (as he was a being of fire). On the other paw, well, hand, Mairon had a bubbly, happy ball of warmth forming in his chest whenever he gave water to plants and witnessed them grow stronger as time went by. He wagged his tail with contentment. The water was kind.

The Maia glanced up at the giant tree next to him. Yavanna was teaching the vegetation how to help each other. She was the mother tree that had built a complex communication system through her roots so she could nourish the other trees and flowers. Prosperity was better achieved when the most resourceful ones endorsed bigger responsibilities and shared more. Possessions were never static, be they food, energy, or treasures. Cumulation disrupted their natural life cycle. It was the very core of things; things were built by power, and Ainur were those who channeled power so the world was created. They were hosts of the essence of the world that was in constant movement. Ainur would perish should they keep power within themselves—symphony would turn into cacophony. And so this very principle was what Yavanna was teaching her creations. In return, gardens and forests prospered through an act of mutual share.

Forests did not prosper alone: Ulmo and Manwë created weather together. Rain, when it came, was a blessing for everyone. This was the better version Ainur wanted to believe. Mairon had heard from a hushed conversation between Manwë and Varda that rain was accidental. Manwë and Ulmo were experimenting with rubbing each other (they had tried to fusion but couldn’t find a way to penetrate their companion), and something, coming from the insides of the two Valar, exploded between them. This is how rain was born. Because they were Valar and designed to create a world for the upcoming Children of Ilúvatar to live in, the rain had many benefits and was not destructive. The union of their magic was optimal despite its not-so-optimal cause.

Magic was the beauty of the world, thought Mairon. He affectionately patted flowers with his hairy, clawed hand and left the garden, watering can in hand.

***

Aulë was happy. The Vala rarely was in a foul mood, on contrary to his good friend Oromë, and very much like Tulkas and Nessa who were always joyful. Today was particularly a good day. Mairon had told him that he loved watering plants. This was much better than Curumo who was still afraid of being moist. It was all Ossë’s fault. Ossë once came to the forge because he was curious (after all, Maiar of Aulë helped build the ocean floor) and wanted to say hello to his fellow Ainur. He found Curumo to be the most attractive (Maiar of Aulë were either flames or golems. Curumo was a golem but he had a pink flower tucked on his right temple. Curumo was coquettish) so he took the form of a rainy cloud and glued his body to Curumo. This last one was wet in no time. He believed Irmo had cursed him (it was unlike Irmo to curse people, on contrary to what everyone said. Nobody could stomach their strange and shameful dreams. This is why they blamed the Vala at any given opportunity even if he had hardly done anything) and panicked. Ossë apologised and gave him cloud-puppy eyes (Ossë only wanted to make friends). It terrified Curumo even more (he confused Ossë for Eönwë and Eönwë’s latest hobby was to wear the disturbing shape of eight wings full of eyes. A cloud with puppy eyes had an Eönwë-esque characteristic to it).

Mairon was absent that day. He was busy staring at a watering can and telling himself it was harmless. He had been encouraged and supported by the Dryads of Yavanna who were happy to teach a spirit of fire how to take care of the flora. Eventually, he wielded the watering can and victoriously watered his first plant. He came back home unaware of the fright Curumo was put through.

Aulë was certain Mairon was ready to take the next step: groom himself in a bath. The Vala had had a private audience with Manwë—Aulë claimed that it would be better for Mairon to be accompanied by a friend for his first bath. Manwë had agreed. Eönwë had never taken a bath either but he was naturally curious and willing to try new things (except visiting the Fëanturi and their consorts. They scared him. He also avoided Oromë’s steed, Nahar. The stallion, according to Eönwë, bit him twice).

It was better than Melkor, even! He did not know why the Great Vala kept his hands away from water—wasn’t he the greatest of them all? Didn’t he mirror the power of all the Valar and Valier? To the Ainur, Melkor was closer to Eru than to them. There was nothing to explain why he distrusted water this much. Surely he did not appreciate Ulmo fornicating with his younger brother, Aulë reasoned. Big brothers were zealously protective of their younger siblings by default. Even if they spent more time pranking their siblings than protecting them.

Aulë started to forge a bath of steel.

***

Manwë wished he could clap his hands with satisfaction but his two hands were taken. One held Eönwë who was perched on him and the other was dutifully brushing Mairon’s back fur (the Maia growled whenever he stopped).

The bath was full and ready. Aulë gave a nod that meant ‘Now is time’. Mairon approached the bath with apprehension. He wrinkled his nose and frowned. Unsure, he pressed himself against Aulë’s side. The Vala smiled at him encouragingly.

Eönwë circled Manwë’s waist with his feet. For once, Eönwë’s appearance wasn’t bizarre: his shape and face were Elven, his hair was long feathers, he wore two wings on his back, his hands were clawed, his feet were like duck feet (it was Manwë’s advice to have this kind of legs today) and he had an eagle tail. His feathers were white, yellow, brown, and orange. The feathers on his head rose as he glanced at the bathtub. Something was suspicious.

Manwë put him down on the marble floor. Eönwë’s legs left his waist, but his arms resolutely stayed around the Vala’s neck.

“See?” said Aulë as he patted the water. “It’s just water.”

Mairon’s frown deepened and his eyes darted back and forth between the bath and the smith. He gripped the edge of the tub. After hearing of Curumo’s misadventure, he was cautious and scared that the water was Ossë. Eönwë didn’t share his worries and put his hand in the tub. He shook it enthusiastically and drops fell on Manwë’s face, which made him sneeze. Manwë’s sneezes were unparalleled: his four wings stretched out, making him look giant, and anybody nearby was hit by a blast. Eönwë therefore received a slap of wind in the face, but that never bothered him because his element was air. Mairon, on the other hand, did not appreciate (the sneeze shook the bathwater, and water attacked the Maia), yelped, and jumped behind Aulë. This last one merely wiped the water away from his beard.

Eönwë now had his two hands in water. He had discovered that if he cupped water fast enough, he could put it in Manwë’s wings. His technique was not on point, and water landed a bit everywhere on the Vala. The young Maia, at least, enjoyed grooming his Vala. It was more enjoyable than grooming Thorondor because Thorondor, just like Nahar, had the impolite habit of biting. Manwë did not bite. Manwë was polite. (Manwë only bit Melkor’s batwings and dragon tail when they were newly born Valar. He almost broke his teeth because Melkor’s scales were ridiculously hard and he made the sound resolution to never put his teeth on people again.)

The King of the Valar took Eönwë in his hands and lifted him. Eönwë realised he was to be dropped in the tub, so he curled on himself and chirped anxiously. Mairon watched the scene with fright and held Aulë’s forearm like his life depended on it. Manwë did not put Eönwë in water and waited until the Maia relaxed. Understanding he would not die, Eönwë tapped water with his foot. It splashed more than when he did the same with his hands. Mairon snarled. Manwë slowly put Eönwë in the bathtub.

The Maia had no idea what to do, so he spread his wings and tail out and floated there awkwardly. His eyes were wide open.

Feeling that Mairon’s grip eased around his arm, Aulë mirrored Manwë’s action. Mairon’s tail brushed water, and it was enough for the Maia to squirm like a hyperactive squirrel. He shifted around and took refuge on Aulë’s chest.

“Not the beard!” groaned Aulë. His beard might be of metal, but the Maia’s pull was painful.

In the tub, Eönwë took pleasure in rolling on himself and wiggled his legs in the air. It made it difficult for Manwë to wash him (Manwë intended to teach his Maia how to remove dirt from his body).

“Mairon, go to the bath, let’s get your fur clean,” said Aulë.

“But I groom myself!” protested the Maia.

“Can you groom your back?” the smith raised an eyebrow.

Mairon looked contrite. “...No,” he admitted. He looked at Eönwë. His companion was held by Manwë, and this last one massaged his feathers with soap. Eönwë chirped happily.

Aulë lifted Mairon again and placed him in the bath. The Maia hissed as he felt water soak his body. He stood in the bath, with water up his stomach, processing the new sensation. It was odd but not threatening. The only real threat was Eönwë who screamed a war cry then proceeded to kick water at Mairon. Manwë growled ‘Eönwë’ (he certainly growled Eönwë’s Valarin name, unknown to Elves and Men, so for the sake of the tale, the storyteller used his Quenya name). The purpose of bringing Eönwë was to give Mairon emotional support during this first experience in water, not to spoil it! Eönwë was mischievous but obedient (unlike Ossë who was mischievous and disobedient) and he stopped attacking Mairon with water. The Maia had tucked his tail between his legs, shaking slightly. Aulë drew circles on his back to soothe him.

The smith then remembered he had brought toys. He fumbled a hand in his pouch that hung on his belt and took out two little wooden boats and three little ducks (wooden ducks too, real ducks disliked being kept captive in Valar’s pouches). Manwë warned Eönwë to not throw toys at them. The Maia of the winds took one of the boats and slid it on Mairon’s arm. Mairon giggled. He was very ticklish. He also giggled because Eönwë looked silly with his wet wings and feathers. One of his wings was full of soap. Mairon yanked Eönwë to his side and proceeded to remove the soap from his friend. He was so concentrated on his task that he barely noticed that Aulë had started to wash his hair and back. It was good because grooming Mairon was sometimes near unfeasible since he was ticklish beyond reason.

The boys were washed and cleaned. Eönwë fussed when Manwë took him away from the tub. He cried like an angry otter. Mairon was compliant and rather liked to be wrapped in a towel and have Aulë rub his back. Being a spirit of fire, he could, of course, use his magic to dry himself. Drying oneself canceled the towel experience, so Mairon did not. He was the one to fuss when Aulë asked to give him the towel back. Eönwë was not fond of towels and shook himself with vigor. Droplets of water flew everywhere, risking to make Manwë sneeze once again (the Vala pinched his nose to avoid it).

It was a satisfying day for the two Valar. They concluded that they could teach all other Maiar to bathe. It was their new mission. If Maiar learnt the arts of bathing, they would then teach the Children of Ilúvatar to do the same. And Oromë. Oromë loved to roll in mud and he stank. Manwë hated bad smells. The only one who could avoid baths was Melkor because Melkor, no matter how much time he spent in the depths of the world, always smelled nice.

Truly, baths were the best invention of Eä.