The Scars from Tomorrow
First in Mind
For Námo the creation of Arda begann different than for the rest of his brethren. He kept to himself in silence for the longest time, never one to seek the attention of others. Only Vairë enjoyed his company, since she wished to work undisturbed. She hated commentary, when she was working.
Námo saw the events unfold, without the actors realizing he was watching. Among it the disturbance Melkor was causing. Curiosity turned into concern and unlike many others, who were eager to bring forward their opinion on it, Námo merely watched. Perhaps later he wished, he had not.
For when the theme rose, a chord struck his being. It hurt, but the Music continued. None of the Ainur noticed their brother writhing in pain. While they enjoyed the creation of Eä, Námo felt life move within himself.
Námo's attention wavered from the Great Music to the life inside of him - thousands of voices demanded attention in the back of his head. It caused him unimaginable pain for Eru rose in his miment and as his servant, Námo suffered internal anguish, simply by not paying attention. The Song was everything and literaly nothing should should be considered important of notice.
Therefore it was neceassary for Námo to keep quiet. Until not it had been a preference, not a requirement. But another chorus cut into his soul. Not Eru and the Ainur.
It was Life.
They were talking to him and Námo fought against the the urge to open his mouth. Eä just came into being and the childrens voices were stronger than the young world.
Námo knew the sound Arda and the Children meeting now, would be worse than any song than had ever left Melkor's mouth.
Námo knew, he saw that it would not be described as music.
There were simply many voices unaware of each other, trying to awake on their own. The disharmony would shatter the world Eru was creating, possibly even the Ainur in the same strike.
So for the shake of peace and out of respect for for Theme, Námo endured the power within him. It circled inside his body, searching for an outlet, but Námo spoke not. Instead he cradled the children closer to him and learned that could be something more important than Eru Ilúvater.
It would take Ages and Agony on his part to name the feeling love.
This part is dictated to Námo. I really want to write more stories, but I feel I have to explain my headcanon's first.