Tag: forgemaiar

An awkwardly weighted box arrives via disgruntled seabird, with a note attached. It’s clearly written in a child’s hand as there are ink blots and scratched out words aplenty. “Dear uncle Mosanwe, (several inkblots follow) Mist tells me you can make pretty things out of anything, so I have collected several fancy shells, some sand, and one entire crab for you. The crab bites. (more inkblots) Sincerely, Ulodin Mitsanáriel.” The box is leaking fine sand grains from one corner.

My dear godchild,

I thank you for the materials, and the challenge you cleverly set me. I do regret to inform you that the crab was dead on arrival, and furthermore, your messenger appears to have eaten most of him. I have made do with what remains, and provided a replacement crab.

Not being especially keen on “shell art”, I have opted to create something closer to my realm of mastery: the sand you sent was melted into glass, and the seashells reduced to calcium carbonate and used as flux.

As you can see, your new crustacean has been upgraded with a shell of vastly improved durability which is also, if I may say so, quite pretty.  I hope this meets with your approval.

Your Obedient Servant,

~Uncle Thû

postscriptum: If Lin is there, tell her the crab threat in Barad-dûr has been neutralized. 

He’d managed to make it all the way to Sauron’s forge before he started to feel nervous, but by the time he recognized it he was already at the door. Mitsanár forced himself to walk through it before he changed his mind. “Fluffy! Do you have a minute?”

forgemaiar:

misbehavingmaiar:

“There is no one here by that name,” came the rumbling reply from the other side of the iron doors, which opened reluctantly under Mitsanar’s hand. 

“But please, of course, come in. It’s not as though anything I’m doing might be more important.”  

“Of course it isn’t your name, but you’ve still just answered to it.”

Mitsanár smiled sweetly as he stepped to cross the room, lightly padding along on his toes. But halfway across he froze.

The change was swift. It was like someone had just dropped a bucket of icewater over his head, somehow drowning out all the Music around him so that instead of being surrounded by a constant roar, the fires around him barely sounded like a whisper, and he was left with just the heat. He staggered, blinking rapidly.

Ah. This again.

“Nothing more important than an apology?” he said, trying to keep his voice casual.

From far back in the forge a sustained, grating noise of turning stone with a piercingly shrill overtone drowned out all other sound, nearly unbearable to hear even from a distance. It came to a halt at the word ‘apology’. 

“Oh?” 

A gentle clank of metal, and Thû appeared from an alcove, wiping his gloves free of grit and water with a cloth. “Now that, I do have time for,” he said, beckoning his guest over to a workbench. “I was just sharpening a new blade of mine– not so important after all. Come, have a seat. Let us talk.” 

He did not mention the altered chord of the smaller maia’s Song; that it was muted as if with a damper. These things happened on occasion; the whim of a passing grey-magic spell could do a maia great harm in the short term, but not permanently unwind them from the Music. Ainur would remain Ainur, unless they chose to vest themselves entirely in matter. 

It seemed rude to point it out, as his guest was making overtures of peace.       

He’d managed to make it all the way to Sauron’s forge before he started to feel nervous, but by the time he recognized it he was already at the door. Mitsanár forced himself to walk through it before he changed his mind. “Fluffy! Do you have a minute?”

“There is no one here by that name,” came the rumbling reply from the other side of the iron doors, which opened reluctantly under Mitsanar’s hand. 

“But please, of course, come in. It’s not as though anything I’m doing might be more important.”  

Need I remind you that in no part was I lying, and that I/actually, physically cannot/ lie to you?

As expected, you are dancing around the fact that I acted in good faith and you did not. I will not play this game with you.

Purposefully omitting information, obscuring your intent with carefully chosen words, relying on plausibility to cover your trail while obeying the letter of the law is lying. I know it when I see it, Mitsanar; lying is something I’m famous for, I’ve used the technique myself. 

I gave you the benefit of the doubt and you used that against me. What did you want? A prize? An amusing reaction with no consequences? 

Stop playing coy and eat your swan.  

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Goodness me! I’m sure the one I wanted to bring is around here. Somewhere. Maybe over there? No, not that– that other one- over- hm, maybe if you throw some crumbs it will show itself?

Oh don’t worry, it doesn’t come with unpredictable magic. …I can’t speak for the rest of them though.

I see. You didn’t actually want my help forging armor for anything at all, you only wanted to fill my workshop with swans. 

Possibly under the mistaken impression that I find swans irritating. –No, don’t answer, Mitsanar. I’m not interested in your rhetorical work-arounds. 

Luckily for us, I know a very efficient way of dealing with ordinary swans who are NOT part of Ossë’s retinue:

The Fëanorian way.

…et voila!

…Now, I cannot help you make armor for all these birds, but I can help you dress them. I think I’ll pair them with a nice Anadûnê ‘62; not a pleasant year for me *personally*, but a wonderful vintage nonetheless. 

Cheers. 

forgemaiar:

misbehavingmaiar:

–

A gift whose secondary purposes were intended to be obvious, the dubious nature of which was requested; servants who swore fealty to me, and some who would gladly return to me; and a squabble long since past and amended, else I would not have been named her honorary guardian. 

You come freely into my home and forge, with your mischief and your games, expecting me to play the villain of your suspicions, and I have obliged– harmlessly.  I have never once done you harm. I have taken your mischief and your wariness in stride; I have accepted that I should not have access to your home, though you have always been welcome in mine. I did not even demand an audience with you, the island’s keeper, I only struck a bargain. 

Think what you are accusing me of, Mitsanar. Doing her harm? Requesting the return of what is mine by oath? Or merely of playing the part of the untrustworthy outsider, propped up to make your isolation seem more reasonable? 

….But even these accusations I can bear. If you truly think I mean her ill, or would betray you– if you wish for me to have no more contact with little Storm, then so be it. But tell her as much. For she, thus far, has always been the one to contact me. She must know the reason why you would break off contact to her benefactor on land, her friend in letters; and she must also agree. She is no longer a mere child; she has some say in her own affairs. 

Obvious to a child is sometimes anything but, especially with the differences between fire and water. I will consent she is a young woman now, but all the same she is more fluent in Terror’s language than you are. Your former servants may have sworn loyalty to you, but when the gates were opened they asked for refuge. They came to me willingly, and I doubt they would be so happy as you think to drop their lives and return; Guritz I think his name was, he’s become fond of watching and guarding sea turtle nests and recording the local fish life. Khamul tends the library- he’s even come out of his shell to ask for specific books to be brought in.

I’ve told them repeatedly if any wish to leave, they can. You’ll notice how they are all still there.

As for my home I’ve told you thrice now, if you can find it, you are more than welcome to visit, and I’ve even given you directions! I can hardly be blamed for you not following them.

…But was it not trust I showed when I came to your forge unarmed? Not once, but twice? And when you were vulnerable I paid a visit with harmless gifts. I see my trust in you must hold as much worth as my information. 

Laume will have her say whether to keep in touch or not. She is old enough to make her own choice. I’ve never prevented her from doing so. But perhaps it’s time I made my own; perhaps it’s time I stopped paying you visits.

Since you think so highly of my capabilities.

Ah– I see the truth is a tender subject for you.

Cool your own head before questioning another’s temper, Mitsanar. For one whose capabilities I -do- admire would not project such vivid ill-will onto one who who had done him no harm, nor call adherence to the most basic precepts of hospitality between kin a great act of trust. I have earned none of this suspicion or vitriol.

Speak to my servants yourself and we may return to this discussion, or take your leave of me if you will. I do not concede to arguing with you if your wounded pride is between us.

forgemaiar:

misbehavingmaiar:

–

–Spare me your sarcasm. Would you not be bitter also, were you treated as an uninvited and unwanted guest whenever you spoke to someone you were fond of, whose wellbeing you were invested in?
Am I not allowed to show a little concern and interest in my goddaughter for myself? 

You are not infallible, and what you gain in a breadth of interests you lack in specialization, Mitsanar. Another set of eyes on the matter would do no harm. 

…Particularly if she continues to ask for my advice on technical matters. It would be well for me to be informed. 

Well I was nearly beheaded- and not for lack of trying on his part- but you don’t see me snapping at anyone who brings it up, do you? And… to be fair, your last gift to Storm was a clockwork spy. Whether it was actually successful or not is completely irrelevant; the point is, you spy on her home, pick petty squabbles with her father, seek to take back her neighbors and friends just because they were once your servants, and then ask why we are so suspicious of you!

Concern is welcome. But you have so, so much more than concern on your mind. Forgive me if I answer your questions from a distance! 

All the same, I will answer them, unless you think my opinion is too ah… unspecialized to be of any merit.

A gift whose secondary purposes were intended to be obvious, the dubious nature of which was requested; servants who swore fealty to me, and some who would gladly return to me; and a squabble long since past and amended, else I would not have been named her honorary guardian. 

You come freely into my home and forge, with your mischief and your games, expecting me to play the villain of your suspicions, and I have obliged– harmlessly.  I have never once done you harm. I have taken your mischief and your wariness in stride; I have accepted that I should not have access to your home, though you have always been welcome in mine. I did not even demand an audience with you, the island’s keeper, I only struck a bargain. 

Think what you are accusing me of, Mitsanar. Doing her harm? Requesting the return of what is mine by oath? Or merely of playing the part of the untrustworthy outsider, propped up to make your isolation seem more reasonable? 

….But even these accusations I can bear. If you truly think I mean her ill, or would betray you– if you wish for me to have no more contact with little Storm, then so be it. But tell her as much. For she, thus far, has always been the one to contact me. She must know the reason why you would break off contact to her benefactor on land, her friend in letters; and she must also agree. She is no longer a mere child; she has some say in her own affairs. 

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