Prologue: An Explanation

This story was inspired by a simple question: What was Námo doing before he became the Lord of Mandos? The Halls of Mandos were not built until the Valar removed themselves to Valinor after the destruction of Almaren and the Two Lamps. So, what was he doing before that? What were any of them doing before the Firstborn appeared in Arda, before Arda itself was even created? I decided to find out, and so this story was born.

In this story the Valar refer to themselves as Ayanumuz (singular: Ayanuz), since the word Valar was given to them by the Firstborn. We don't have the name by which the Maiar referred to themselves, so I have used the older form of the word, i.e. Máyar.

Because we do not have the Valarin names for all the Valar and Maiar, and for clarity's sake, I use the Quenya versions of their names.

Other words of Valarin (and Quenya) origin are defined at the end of each chapter. I use Quenya for emphasis since many words in Quenya are derived originally from Valarin anyway.

Technically speaking, when describing units of time, such temporal references as "seconds", "minutes", "hours" and "years" would not have existed since those time units are based on the rotational and orbital periods of the Earth, but for clarity's sake, such measures of time are used in this story and you must assume that the Valar had their own means of measuring the passing of Time in Eä.

The same goes for any astronomical or scientific references, such as "galaxy", "globular cluster", and "space-time continuum", etc. when describing their activities in building Eä.

If some of the Valar seem different from how they are portrayed in my other stories about them, keep in mind that eons separate the Valar and Maiar of this story with those that take place in the later Ages of Arda. Like all created beings, the Valar and Maiar are not perfect. They make mistakes and hopefully learn and grow from them.

1: Riding the Fireball

Námo stood on the dead moonlet circling the gas giant and waited. He had timed it just right and had gauged the distance to a nicety. It would take twenty-three minutes and fourteen seconds for the front of the supernova’s plasma pulse to reach him, though he could well see the star exploding even from this distance.

It was glorious and Námo exalted in the fiery death of one of Varda’s creations even as he mourned the destruction that would follow. The wavefront was advancing, already tearing apart the three smaller worlds that circled the star inside the gas giant’s orbit. The second planet had held the possibility of life within its waters and Yavanna had had some hope of success. Melkor, however, had managed (again) to interfere with the internal dynamics of yet another star, causing the supernova that now consumed the inner worlds and would eventually destroy the gas giant and its myriad satellites, including the one on which Námo stood.

It was almost time. Two more minutes. He readied himself and with a fierce cry leapt from the moonlet, launching himself upon the plasma pulse as it arrived. He rode the wave, allowing himself to be swept across space. Finally, as the wave reached the outer reaches of the star’s cometary cloud, he tired of the sport and stepped from the pulse, watching as it made its way inexorably through the dark between the stars. He sighed and turned away only to come face-to-face with Melkor.

His brother Ayanuz was beautiful, bathed in a corona of light that nearly rivaled the nearby supernova. Námo forced himself not to step back. Melkor smiled at him knowingly. "Did you enjoy your ride, Little One?" Melkor asked condescendingly.

Námo hated it when Melkor called him that, though in all fairness, he was younger than Melkor in their Atar’s Thought, but still...

He nodded, but did not deign to speak. Melkor smirked. "Little One, why do you insist on following my brother Manwë when in your heart you know you should follow me instead?"

Námo shook his head, feeling suddenly very young and vulnerable. Melkor had tried to entice him away from the others before, but never so blatantly as now. He felt the seductive lure of destruction he had witnessed and clung desperately to the memory of his Atar’s love. Melkor reached out and caressed him gently. A dark thrill coursed through him and he shivered involuntarily.

"You know you belong to me, Little One," Melkor whispered. "In your heart you know this. Why do you resist the inevitable?"

Námo shook his head. "No," he said, but even to himself he did not sound convincing.

Melkor smiled and stepped back. "We’ll see, Little One. We’ll see. In the meantime, perhaps you would like me to destroy one of Varda’s other playthings for you to ride on. Would you like that?"

Námo did the only thing he could think of then — he fled, and Melkor’s stinging laughter followed.

****

Manwë found Námo hiding inside a blue-white star, huddled miserably about the core. He gazed fondly at the younger Ayanuz and wondered how best to deal with his insecurities.

"I didn’t give in," Námo said suddenly, letting Manwë know he was aware of his elder’s presence. "I wanted to so badly, but I didn’t... I didn’t...."

Manwë encompassed the younger Ayanuz. "I know you did not, best beloved," he said soothingly. "I’m very proud of you, you know... as is Atar."

"He said I belonged to him... that I shouldn’t resist..."

"Hush now, best beloved," Manwë said, gently calming him. The caress was like a ripple of light that grew ever stronger, banishing all feelings of a darker nature. Námo felt... loved. He sighed, almost purring with contentment under Manwë’s ministrations. Manwë smiled.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good. Now, Námo, I want you to listen to me very carefully." Manwë paused for a moment until he knew he had Námo’s complete attention. "Neither Atar nor I have any doubts as to your loyalties. My brother is suffering from delusions of grandeur and little comprehends others’ decisions to be obedient to Ilúvatar. Do not listen to Melkor’s words, my son. They are lies."

"He is right about one thing though," Námo said dejectedly. "I do enjoy the thrill of riding the plasma pulses. I know I shouldn’t, but..."

Manwë gave his younger brother a kiss. "I am glad that at least one of us besides Melkor finds delight and can see something positive in such destruction." He laughed slyly. "Perhaps next time Melkor causes a supernova I just might join you."

Námo snickered at that. "Don’t let Varda hear you say that."

Manwë merely smiled. "Speaking of which... let us go cheer up my beloved and poor Yavanna."

Námo nodded, looking suddenly grimmer or perhaps just more decisive. "Yes, let us go. There is something Varda needs to know, something all the Ayanumuz need to know."

Manwë gave Námo a quizzical look but Námo shook his head. "Melkor doesn’t know it, but this time he’s miscalculated," was all he would say.

"Then let us go," Manwë said and with the speed of thought they departed from the fiery furnace that was a blue-white star and went in search of their brethren.

****

The others were congregated around a ringed world circling a yellow dwarf star. Ulmo and Aulë were idly jumping off the rings into the upper atmosphere of the planet, riding the air currents. Oromë and Nessa were racing each other around the rings while Irmo, Estë and Vairë were tossing ice shards at one another, the smallest about a third of the size of the moonlet Námo had been standing on earlier. Nienna and Vána were busy trying to console a weeping Yavanna. Varda, Námo saw, was in fine fighting mode, fuming and swearing.

"That’s the third one! The third one in this part of Eä alone!" She saw Manwë and Námo approach and turned her ire on the younger Ayanuz. "And you! You turn it into a sport. I’m surprised you don’t blow up your own stars instead of waiting for Melkor to do it for you."

Námo faltered in the face of Varda’s wrath, suddenly unsure of himself, but Manwë held him close as he gently reproved his spouse. "Peace, my beloved. Do not vent your anger on one who has done you no ill. Námo has something to tell you."

Varda fumed for a few more seconds then nodded, giving Námo a scowl. "Well, what is it?"

Námo, however, ignored her for a moment and went to Yavanna. "Do not weep, sister," he said to her consolingly. "Great good will come from this and Melkor will rue the day he destroyed that particular star."

"What do you mean, my son?" Manwë asked.

Námo rewarded Manwë with a brief smile. "Only that Melkor has provided us with the raw materials for the construction of Atháraphelun."

That caught everyone’s attention. Yavanna stopped weeping and gave Námo a hopeful look. Aulë and Ulmo, as their chief scientists and engineers, gave Námo considering glances. "You know this for sure, Little Brother?" Ulmo rumbled.

"Námo sees further into Eä’s history than all of us," Manwë reminded them. "It is why he is so valuable to us. If he says that out of the death throes of this one star, Atháraphelun will arise, then I will not dispute him."

Námo felt suddenly shy before Manwë’s praise. His younger brother, Irmo, gave him a wink and smiled.

"Yet I sense that now is not yet the time for the building of the Children’s habitation," Varda said.

Námo nodded. "You are correct, Varda. Now is not yet the time. There is still much we must do ere that day comes and... and Melkor is not to know of this."

Some of the Ayanumuz looked doubtful but Manwë nodded. "The Máyar will not be told," he said, speaking in a tone they all recognized and obeyed without question. "There are some among them whom I fear may be in sympathy with Melkor. I would fain not have them be privy to this information at this time."

They all nodded solemnly. Then Aulë smiled at Námo and grabbed him, pulling him towards the edge of the rings with Ulmo right beside him. "Come, Little Brother, and join us." With that, he and Ulmo laughed and before he knew it, Námo was leaping off the rings and plunging into the upper reaches of the gas giant’s noxious atmosphere, sailing along the air currents with his older brothers.

****

Ayanuz: (Valarin) Ainu. The plural would be Ayanumuz.

Atháraphelun: (Valarin) Arda, our solar system, in which our world is the scene of the central drama in the history of Eä. Actually spelled Aþáraphelun, but I have decided to modify the orthography so it is easier for people to read and pronounce.

Máya: Older Quenya form of Maia, most likely adapted and adopted from Valarin but we have no attested Valarin form. The plural would be Máyar.

2: Beacons Lit

"Are we sure about this?"

That was Námo’s older sister, Nienna. The younger Ayanumuz were standing together watching their elders. Surrounding them were the Máyar, grouped together by allegiance to a particular Ayanuz. The largest group called themselves the Manwelië, the People of Manwë. Those who followed Varda were also numerous. The Máyar who followed Námo numbered the least. Even Irmo and Nienna had more followers. Námo tried not to think about that as he answered his sister’s question.

"Aulë and Ulmo went over the calculations twice before they agreed to this," he said, giving Nienna a smile. She had been unable to join in the Song to the very end, yet somehow she seemed stronger than he in many ways. "I don’t think Manwë would have allowed it if they had any doubts."

Nienna nodded reluctantly. One of her Máyar servants leaned towards her. "Your lord brother is correct, my lady," Tiutalion said. "Lord Manwë would not countenance the project otherwise."

"Look! It’s started," exclaimed Eönwë, standing nearby among Manwë’s People. He was Manwë’s chief Máya, often charged with relaying messages between the Ayanumuz. At the moment, however, he was just one of the spectators.

Námo turned his attention to where Ulmo and Aulë were standing, facing each other. Manwë and Varda were there as well, the four forming a square. Each of them was bathed in a corona of fire: Manwë’s was a bright blue flame, while Varda’s was a blinding white; Aulë’s was red-orange, but Ulmo’s seemed a mixture of sea-green, indigo and violet, blending in iridescent tones.

Then Manwë began to Sing, his light baritone voice joyous. Aulë and Ulmo joined him, their deeper voices a pleasing counterpoint. Finally, Varda came in singing the descant, her voice of pure delight sending a thrill through all who heard her. The Song was one of pure mathematics, for they were attempting to remold the physics of the space-time continuum in this part of Eä. As the four Sang, equations began to appear in the space between them, writhing in the flow of the Song, coalescing into a single mathematical point that suddenly exploded, momentarily blinding them all. When the light dimmed to more acceptable levels they were all stunned. Not even a flicker of thought marred the absolute silence that descended upon them. Námo felt himself shivering with awe at what his elders had wrought.

Within the space between the four Ayanumuz was a star, smaller than any Varda had yet created, shining whitely. It was also spinning so rapidly that Námo counted six hundred rotations in a space of time that the Children would some day call a "second". More importantly for their purposes, the star emitted a specific electromagnetic signal visible to them all that acted as a beacon. One other beacon-star was planned, its location set relative to this star to allow triangulation, the third vertex being the celestial point where Atháraphelun would be established.

Or rather, where it would not.

It had been Námo’s idea, offered somewhat hesitantly. "If we have Melkor believing that we are nearly ready to establish Atháraphelun in one part of Eä," he had explained to them, "he might not bother to pay any attention to what we are doing elsewhere."

Manwë had approved the idea, giving the younger Ayanuz an encouraging smile. Aulë and Ulmo had immediately begun working out the necessary equations, consulting with Varda as to the parameters of the beacon, and now they were seeing the results.

The Máyar cheered and offered their congratulations. It had been a tremendous achievement and they were all excited at the idea of seeing the other beacon being created. Irmo gave Námo a knowing grin as they listened to the Máyar chatter away and Námo grinned back. Manwë signaled to Eönwë, who nodded to his lord, then in a voice that all heard, gave the command for the Máyar to disperse, leaving the Ayanumuz to themselves. The thirteen of them circled the beacon, admiring their work.

"We will set up the other beacon after we’ve rested for a time," Manwë said.

"Seems almost a waste," Oromë commented, "creating these beacons for no other purpose than to deceive Melkor."

"Not quite a waste," Ulmo replied, sounding smug. "What the Máyar do not know is that we’ve set up the equations in such a way that by changing one variable the beacons will shift their positions so they point to the actual location where Atháraphelun will be founded."

"We have also decided," Manwë added, "that Námo will hold the key to altering the variable."

"Me!" Námo exclaimed in disbelief.

Manwë nodded. "This was, after all, your idea, and you forget nothing. At the moment, only Ulmo knows what the trigger to alter the variable is. Once he’s given it to you he will deliberately erase all knowledge of this from his mind."

"That’s insane!" Námo protested and one or two of the other Ayanumuz stirred at their brother’s tone.

"Insane or not, it is the plan, my son," Manwë said, the tenor of his words brooking no dissent.

Námo stared at his fellow Ayanumuz, hoping that this was but a jest, but the seriousness of their expressions convinced him otherwise. He sighed and nodded. "It will be as you say, lord."

"Come, Little Brother," Ulmo said sympathetically. "Let us find a more secluded spot for this."

Námo allowed Ulmo to choose the location and soon they were in the midst of a globular cluster overlooking the spiral galaxy that was their present home. Námo stared about, admiring the view of the galaxy slowly spinning.

"Is it my imagination," Námo finally said, "or is that hole in the center of the galaxy getting larger?"

Ulmo glanced incuriously to where Námo was pointing, automatically measuring the blackness where no light was emitted in the spiral’s center and mentally comparing it to the last time he had bothered to check its size. He grunted in assent. "Nothing we need to worry about at the moment," he said dismissively. Then he gave Námo a smile. "There’s no reason to be nervous, Námo. The transfer will be instantaneous."

"How do you know you can trust me?" Námo asked. "Melkor said..."

"Hush now, Little Brother," Ulmo said gently. "Have you forgotten what Atar told you before we left the Timeless Halls? If Manwë and I trust you, can you do any less than trust yourself? Or failing that, can you not trust us who are your elders?"

Námo stared across the space that separated them from their home. He remembered Atar’s words to him as the two walked through one of the gardens that were the delight of all the Ayanumuz...

"Thou art troubled, my child," Ilúvatar said to Námo as the two walked through the water-meads.

"Yes, Atar," Námo replied simply.

"Wouldst thou like to tell me?" Ilúvatar asked gently. He of course already knew what troubled the youngster, but wished to hear it from his own lips.

"I was standing near Melkor during the Song," Námo began. "At first I paid little heed to his... inventions, for I wished to remain within the Themes thou didst propound to us, but it... it was hard and I nearly failed... I..."

"My son," Ilúvatar stopped to embrace this Child of his Thought, who would one day have a heavy burden to bear, though he knew it not. "Do not overly concern thyself. I speak only about what is, never about what might have been. Thou didst not follow Melkor’s voice, but remained true to the Themes I propounded. That is all that matters between me and thee." He kissed his Child tenderly. "Thou hast much to accomplish in Eä, best beloved. I have every faith in thee. Abide thou in my love, Child, and all will be well with thee."

Námo nodded. "I love thee, Atar," he said simply, not knowing what else to say. Ilúvatar merely smiled, embracing him once more....

"When you are ready, Little Brother."

Námo shook himself from his reverie and gave his brother Ayanuz a nod. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, but as it turned out, he didn’t have to do anything. At Ulmo’s signal he opened his mind to his brother. For one eternal moment their minds were as one and it was impossible to say where one began and the other left off. Before it became too frighteningly intimate they broke contact. Ulmo had a rather blank look to him as Námo tried to assimilate the knowledge that was suddenly his. His grasp of the mathematics was rudimentary but he realized he didn’t need to understand it to know how to set the trigger. He gave Ulmo a glance and saw his brother gazing about, looking puzzled.

"Námo," he demanded, "why are we here?"

Námo pointed to the galaxy spinning before them. "We’ve come to check the progress of the hole. Varda is curious, considering that it’s one of her... er... mistakes."

"Hmph. That’s putting it mildly," Ulmo grinned somewhat wickedly, his momentary confusion gone. "It has grown somewhat but it won’t be a problem for some time. Eä may well come to an end before we must deal with it."

"I hope Varda remembers what she did wrong in the first place," Námo said with an equally wicked grin. "We don’t want to have these black holes littering the universe for us to constantly trip over."

"Atar forbid!" Ulmo exclaimed with a laugh as the two launched themselves with the speed of thought to return home.

****

Note: The beacon-star which the Valar create is, of course, a pulsar or rotating neutron star, usually created as the endpoint of a supernova explosion. Pulsars are quite small, ranging from 10-15 km (6.25- 9.375 mi) in diameter. The typical pulsar rotates 1-2 times per second. This particular Valar-created pulsar is more unusual. To hear what pulsars sound like, go to: http://www.jb.man.ac.uk/~pulsar/Education/Sounds/sounds.html.

The explanation of the origin of black holes, and in particular, the one that supposedly lies in the center of our own galaxy, is my own invention. Even the Valar had to learn as they went so mistakes were bound to happen.

3: The Máhanumaz

They placed the second beacon-star in a different galaxy. Varda cringed when she learned where they were going to put it. It was one of her earlier attempts at creating a galaxy and as a spiral it failed miserably. There was a central bar of stars where the spirals would have begun, but she could never quite get them to work and so it was very irregular in shape. There were actually two of them fairly close together, one smaller than the other. Personally, Námo rather liked them as he found spirals to be too... ordinary. Manwë was constantly assuring her that what she considered ‘mistakes’ were quite lovely in their own right.

"We can only try for perfection, beloved, but can never hope to achieve it," he told her after her second attempt failed and she was nearly weeping with frustration. "Eru rejoices in our efforts more than in our actual achievements. These ‘failures’ as you call them are quite beautiful and we rejoice in them, as we rejoice in you and your talents." He kissed her tenderly and she took comfort from it.

Now they were setting up the second beacon-star. Námo was curious to see Aulendil pestering his Master with questions about the beacons and their mathematics. Námo noticed with amusement that Aulë patiently answered the Máya’s questions without actually giving anything away. He wasn’t sure if Aulendil understood what the Ayanuz was doing but decided it wasn’t important enough to worry about. Manwë suspected that there were a number of Máyar who were sympathetic to Melkor without declaring themselves openly as some of their brethren had already done. It was best to exercise caution, though Námo suspected that in the end it would all come to naught. Some things just seemed to be inevitable. He wondered sometimes why he had been able to see so much farther into Eä’s history than any of the others. Sometimes the knowing was more burdensome than he liked and he was never sure what he should tell for fear that others might try to change the course of what must be. Atar had explained it to him before he had left the Timeless Halls...

"Each of my Children has been given special gifts," Ilúvatar said as they wandered through the water-meads. "Thy gift is perhaps more burdensome than most, my son, but if I did not think thou couldst handle it, thou wouldst not have received it."

"It’s hard, though," Námo said softly, sounding somewhat confused. "Sometimes the knowledge of what will come is too... painful... and who do I tell?"

Ilúvatar smiled gently at his Child and kissed him, enveloping him in an ocean of love and well-being. "Thou canst always tell me, my best beloved. I will always listen."

Námo sighed and allowed himself to sink into his Atar’s embrace. "But who else should I tell?" he asked.

Ilúvatar simply smiled. "Trust thine own feelings, Child. And if thou canst not do that, then trust Manwë to know what to do. He is thine elder in all things and has wisdom thou hast yet to achieve. Go to him when thou'rt troubled and he will comfort thee."

Námo nodded, looking less confused, but still unsure. Ilúvatar took him further into his embrace and soothed him with a lullaby. Námo sighed again, reveling in the ecstasy of being loved by Love...

Námo’s attention was drawn back to the present when a sudden explosion of light and gamma rays burst upon them and the second beacon-star appeared. All cheered, though Námo idly noticed that Aulendil was less enthusiastic about the beacon’s appearing than his fellow Máyar. He frowned as an errant thought crossed his mind but disappeared before he could actually latch onto it. He thought it might be important, but he couldn’t be sure. He shook his head to clear his mind.

"Don’t you think it’s pretty?"

Námo turned to see Vairë standing next to him. "Sorry?"

She smiled warmly at him and he suddenly felt stupid for some reason. "The beacon-star. Do you not think it is pretty?"

"Ah... um... yes, I suppose it is," he stuttered and wished he could just disappear into Varda’s black hole in the center of their home galaxy. He had thought Vairë the fairest of the Ayanumuz when they were yet in the Timeless Halls. His brother Irmo had tried to encourage him to speak to her, but he’d been too shy and unsure of himself. When he learned that she had chosen to enter Eä his joy knew no bounds, but he still did not speak to her overmuch after they finally came there. His duties often kept him from seeing her as often as he would have liked for she was usually working with Nienna and Estë, while Námo most often found himself working with his brother and Oromë.

And now here she was, speaking to him and he couldn’t think of anything interesting to say to her. Not that it mattered, for Vairë seemed content to do all the talking.

"I thought the first beacon-star was spectacular, but this one is quite lovely. I like how it flashes different colors as it spins. Even the gamma emissions have a musical tone to them, don’t you think?" She flashed him a brilliant smile.

He nodded. "Very musical, but not as... as musical as you... I mean when you sing," he said wondering if he sounded as idiotic as he felt. Irmo seemed to know all the right things to say to Estë and he was much younger than he in their Atar’s Thought. You would think as the elder brother he would be the more sure one. Their sister had merely shaken her head when he had said as much to her one time.

"Each of us comes into his or her own at their own pace, brother," she had said, smiling at him with great patience. "Do not rush to be like our little brother. Concentrate on being yourself. You’ll find you’ll like yourself better that way."

Vairë was giving him a considering look. "Do you think I’m musical?"

He nodded. "I liked the way you sang the Song. I think I would have foregone singing it myself just to listen to you."

"Why didn’t you?" she asked coyly.

Námo had to stop and think about that. Why hadn’t he stopped singing his part of the Song to listen to Vairë? It would have been lovely to have done so, but then he realized that standing as close to Melkor as he had been, it would have been dangerous. She was not standing all that far from Melkor either but she was further away than he and was therefore protected from Melkor’s insinuations. She might have been persuaded to join him in his rebellion had Námo stopped singing so that she would have heard Melkor’s discontent more clearly. Her own part of the Song could well have been corrupted. That thought frightened him. He knew now that by remaining in the Song, he might very well have saved her.

"I... I needed to remain in the Song myself," he stammered. "I did not want to be disobedient to Atar." Now he just sounded as young as some of the Máyar who had come into existence much later in their Atar’s Thoughts and even Námo had found them amusingly naive in comparison to him and the other Ayanumuz.

Vairë frowned somewhat but brightened again. "I’m glad you were obedient to Atar’s commands," she replied. "I do not think I would have liked it if I were the source of your disobedience, even unknowingly. That would have been too heavy a burden to bear. Thank you for remaining in the Song."

Námo looked at her in surprise. "Y-you’re welcome."

He was saved from thinking of what else he might say to her by Ulmo coming up to them, embracing him with his thoughts. "Manwë wishes to speak with you, Little Brother. Hello Vairë."

"Hello, Ulmo," Vairë said with a smile. "Where’s Estë? I wish to speak to her myself."

Ulmo shrugged. "She’s around somewhere, giving one of the Máyar grief over something, I think."

They all laughed, for they knew Estë was very particular about how things should be and woe betide anyone, Máya or Ayanuz, who did not meet her exact standards.

"I’ll just go find her then," Vairë said, "and see if I can’t rescue whichever hapless Máya has fallen into her clutches."

Námo and Ulmo both laughed again and then they were alone. Ulmo embraced Námo once more. "Come, we shouldn’t keep Manwë waiting."

Námo nodded in agreement. Looking about, though, he realized that most of the people had dispersed now that the beacon-star was set while he and Vairë had been talking. Manwë was nowhere in sight. He turned to his fellow Ayanuz in puzzlement. Ulmo merely smiled knowingly.

"Manwë said to give you and Vairë one hundred eighty thousand spins of the beacon before interrupting you."

"How generous of him," Námo said somewhat sardonically.

Ulmo laughed. "You don’t know how generous, Little Brother. Varda only wanted to give you half that much time. Come, let us go."

Námo nodded and, lifting the coordinates from Ulmo’s mind, followed him across Eä to where Manwë was presently holding court, deep in the heart of one of the spirals whose nucleus was an intensive source of light all along the spectrum, making it an easy place to find in the great wastelands that still abounded all around Eä.

****

They arrived near the galactic center, coming to a planet circling a red giant where a dead ocean covered most of the surface, its dark waters lapping listlessly against barren rock. Ulmo grimaced somewhat at the sight but otherwise said nothing. Námo remained silent as well. He thought the planet was actually quite beautiful in its deadness, but was wise enough not to say such things to the others. Even his brother sometimes looked at him askance whenever he said something like that. Only Manwë seemed to understand what he truly was saying and would offer him a secret smile which gave him some comfort even as he remained embarrassed by his gaffe.

The rocks were of a shade that was closer to rose and purple rather than true red. The ocean, while lifeless, was nevertheless interesting in its own right as dark emerald waves lapped upon the shore under a mauve sky. This close to the galactic center the planet knew nothing of night. The sky was forever brilliant with stars and its own parent star glowed in carmine shades, swollen and red as it entered the final stages of its existence.

They met in a natural amphitheater of rock in the midst of the one small island continent this planet could boast. Námo was surprised to see only Manwë, Varda, Aulë, Yavanna, Oromë and his own sister, Nienna, there. None of the other Ayanumuz was present. He glanced at Manwë in unspoken confusion. Manwë smiled and gestured for him and Ulmo to join them where they congregated near the center of the amphitheater. Ulmo gave Námo a sympathetic smile of his own.

"Do not wonder that not of all us are here, Little Brother," he said as they made their way down to where the others awaited them. "We eight are the most powerful of the Ayanumuz and it is for us to make the decisions concerning the ordering of Eä and the establishment of Atháraphelun."

Námo stopped in shock. "What do you mean? Irmo is much more powerful than I and Vairë..."

"Not so, my son," Manwë interjected. "I know you do not think yourself powerful, but you are in ways that you little understand, though in time and with thought you will see what you consider your weaknesses as the strengths they truly are."

Námo shook his head, not sure he agreed, but remained silent. Manwë gave them all a glance, lingering longest on Varda. The two shared a secret smile between them and for a brief moment their aurae flared forth in splendor as their love for one another manifested itself. The others basked in the reflected glow and Námo felt immeasurably better for it. Then their aurae dimmed to more acceptable levels and Manwë turned his attention to the others.

"Ulmo is correct," he continued, speaking solemnly. "Whether we recognize it or not, we eight and only we eight are the most powerful of the Ayanumuz who have entered Eä. It is for us to determine the shape of the universe in readiness for the Children who are to come. This is an awesome responsibility, but Atar has every faith in us and we must hold true to that faith for ourselves and each other, especially when things go wrong, and they will." He glanced again at Varda who merely nodded her acceptance of her beloved Spouse’s words.

Manwë spoke again. "To that end, we must delegate our responsibilities between ourselves. Varda, I think, will continue bringing forth the stars, while Aulë, Ulmo and I will continue to work out the mathematics of the deep structures. I’m not satisfied that there are only nine spatial dimensions. I think there is a tenth one we haven’t detected yet. It’s hidden somewhere in the superstrings."

Ulmo nodded. "I concur," he said. "At least we only have to deal with one temporal dimension. I wonder why Atar wanted ten spatial ones, though? Except for the four that rule the macrocosmos, all the others are in the microcosmic range and should not unduly disrupt the structures we’ve invoked."

"Yet, we need to track them all down if we are to monitor the flux of chaos that may threaten us," Aulë commented. "Better to be safe than sorry. We need to locate that tenth dimension, as Manwë says. Ignorance could spell doom for us if we are not careful."

Námo nodded. "The tenth dimensional field will prove important for us in the future."

All the others looked at him in surprise. "How do you mean, Námo?" Varda asked, her expression somewhat grim and suspicious. "What have you seen?"

Námo felt weak before Varda’s gaze but held himself upright. "I have seen nothing, but I know this tenth dimension that Manwë wants to find will be important for us in the future."

"But why..."

"Peace, Varda," Manwë said, stilling all protest with his tone. "If Námo says he does not know the particulars than we must respect that. It is enough to know that knowledge of its location, be it in the macro or the micro, will be of importance to us in the future. The whys and the wherefores are not necessary for us to know at this time."

Varda nodded reluctantly. Manwë resumed speaking. "Yavanna, you and Nienna should concentrate on coming up with some architectural designs of Atháraphelun. Atar means for it to be the centerpiece of his creation, the birthplace of his Children. It needs to be special and unique."

"We will recruit the others as necessary," Ulmo then interjected, "but Irmo and Estë are working on their own project and Vairë has indicated she wishes to help them. I suspect Vána will want to work with you, Yavanna, and perhaps Nessa."

Yavanna and Nienna nodded their agreement to Ulmo's assessment. Then Manwë turned his attention to Námo and Oromë, his expression turning more grave. Námo wondered nervously what task the Eldest had determined to give them. He did not have long to wait.

"Oromë, you and Námo will have the most dangerous task." Manwë paused for a moment as if debating whether to continue. "I need you to track down Melkor’s whereabouts."

Námo felt himself shrink from that and Oromë looked equally nonplused. "Do not confront him," Manwë warned, "but seek to establish where he hides himself. I do not like the way he snuck up on Námo this last time." Námo blushed at Manwë’s words, but there was no condemnation in anyone’s eyes. "We need to keep better vigilance against my deluded brother’s machinations. I fear that some of our own people may well be snared in his trap."

"If they haven’t been snared already," Námo said, remembering Aulendil’s inquisitiveness about the beacon-star and then his sudden disinterest in it.

Manwë nodded. "Indeed."

Oromë turned to Námo with a questioning look. Námo shrugged, then said, "You are wise in the ways of the hunt, Oromë, for did you not find that errant variable star that was wreaking havoc with the electromagnetic fields of those two stellar systems that collided when no one else, including Varda, could find it? I will follow where you lead."

"Where should we look, though?" Oromë asked. "We need a starting point in order to pick up Melkor’s trail."

"Start where he was last seen," Manwë suggested. "Start where the most recent supernova occurred."

Varda muttered something vicious that none of them quite caught, though they laughed all the same, for the proper Lady to the Eldest was known to have a sharp tongue and an imaginative vocabulary.

"Before we disperse to our separate tasks," Manwë then said, "I think it behooves us to give our little group a name that separates us from the others, Ayanumuz and Máyar alike."

"Why?" Yavanna asked.

It was her spouse, Aulë, who answered. "As a way of quickly identifying ourselves to our fellows. Already many of the Máyar refer to our brother Manwë as ‘Tar-Anyára’. It would be wise, I think, to establish lines of authority now rather than later. We are the chief of the Ayanumuz and the Máyar here in Eä. This should be recognized by all."

All this while Námo had remained silent, his thoughts distant from the discussion as the future impinged upon his conscious. Then, he spoke, and when he did it was with an authority that even he wondered at. "We are the Máhanumaz, though the Children will render it differently in their own language."

Manwë nodded. "‘Máhanumaz’ then. By this name shall we be forever known, ve Ilúvatar selyas."

"Ve Ilúvatar selyas," the others echoed and then, at Manwë’s command, all dispersed saved Námo and Oromë.

When they were alone, Manwë spoke. "I know that what I ask of you two may be impossible, but I deem it most important that we know where Melkor hides himself. The future of Atháraphelun may well depend upon it. Go now, and take care. My brother is the most potent of us all and may have powers of which even I am not aware. He is dangerous. Do not underestimate him or those who now follow him. They seek the darkness, fearing the light. That is both their strength and their weakness. Remain in Atar’s Love and remember who and what you are and you will do well."

He embraced them and kissed them as their elder brother rather than their king. Námo felt strengthened in Manwë’s trust in him. Then with a bow he and Oromë took their leave of Ilúvatar’s Vice-gerent in Eä in search of Melkor’s lair, somewhere in the uncharted depths of the cosmos.

****

Tar-Anyára: (Quenya) Most Old King, i.e. the Elder King as he would later be called by the Children. [tar "king" + an (intensive prefix) + yára "ancient, old" (Tár, as an independent noun, is used only for the legitimate kings of whole tribes. Manwë could be said to be the king of the entire ‘tribe’ of Eru Ilúvatar’s Children in Eä.)]

Máhanumaz: (Valarin) Authorities; the title given to the eight chiefs of the Valar. The singular would be Máhanaz. In Quenya this was rendered as Máhani (sg. Máhan) but most often they were known as the Aratar, meaning "Supreme", among the Eldar.

Ve Ilúvatar selyas: (Quenya) "As Ilúvatar wills it."

Notes: Varda’s "mistakes" are, of course, the Large and Small Magellanic Clouds, which are irregular galaxies and our closest neighbors.

The galaxy where Manwë holds court with the other Máhanumaz is a spiral galaxy known as M77 and is called a Seyfert galaxy. These galaxies have nuclei that are intensive sources of light along all wavelengths from radio to X-rays. M77 is the brightest such galaxy in our sky. It lies 60 million light years away in the Cetus Cluster.

4: Hunting Through the Cosmos

Námo and Oromë went to the spot where the supernova had occurred, finding nothing but rubble orbiting a neutron star. Oromë looked about, checking for any signs of an aura, the signature of the Ayanumuz and Máyar by which each was identified by others.

"Where did you see him?" he asked Námo.

Námo showed him the exact spatial coordinates and they were instantly there. There was no trace of any aura, neither Námo’s nor Melkor’s. Not that he expected to find it. The supernova blast would have masked all aurae.

"Tell me exactly what happened," Oromë commanded and Námo complied, leaving no detail out. At the end of the recital, Oromë looked about, thinking.

"He didn’t just come upon you by accident, then," he finally said. "He was waiting for you, here at this point. How did he know you would leave the wave here and not sooner or later?"

Námo shivered then. "You... he knew where I would be?"

Oromë gave his younger brother a sympathetic look. "So it would seem... or..." he paused to think things through. "This is not the first plasma wave you’ve ridden." It was not a question, but Námo found himself feeling embarrassed by the note of disapproval. Oromë gave his fellow Ayanuz a wry grin. "It’s not that I disapprove, Little Brother," he said, "it’s that I am getting tired of listening to Varda rant and rave every time Melkor destroys one of her creations and you taking pleasure out of it doesn’t help her mood one bit."

"I don’t take pleasure out of it," Námo protested. "Every system that’s been destroyed, I have mourned, especially this last which had held a promise of incarnate life on an order different from ours. I was actually looking forward to seeing how it would develop." He sighed, looking less sure of himself. "But, I admit... I... sorry, I just like to ride the waves, is all," he ended dejectedly.

Oromë gathered him into an embrace and for a microsecond their aurae merged, brightening in fraternal love. "Fear not, Little Brother," Oromë assured him. "I am not condemning you. I admit you seem to have odd tastes in entertainment, but not any odder I suppose than Aulë garnering bits of star cores for his collection. Still haven’t figured out what he wants with all those heavy elements."

This last was said somewhat wryly and Námo gave a small chuckle of amusement. Aulë did tend to be somewhat overly enthusiastic every time he found a new element, trying out different names for them. Námo gave up trying to keep them all straight ages ago, though his personal favorite was ‘vardium’ because it was very radioactive and in a solid state was a silvery-white color. Varda, needless to say, had not been amused, but the name had stuck and she had to put up with it.

Námo thought about what Oromë might be saying and his expression turned grim. "You think someone is spying on me...us."

"Do you ride the waves the same every time?" Oromë asked.

Námo nodded. "Mostly. Once the wave passes the cometary cloud that seems to be standard for all systems, I tend to lose interest. I usually get off the wave at that point."

"And someone may have noticed that and let Melkor know."

"Who?"

Oromë shook his head. "No way of knowing at this point. Manwë has his suspicions, I know, but he does not speak of them to any for fear of alerting them. I think he wants to set a trap of some kind to expose those who are sympathizers of Melkor but too cowardly to openly declare themselves. Instead they act as sneaks, giving Melkor information."

Námo sighed, feeling suddenly weak. "He was waiting for me then. He knew where I would be."

"Or perhaps he set off this supernova for the explicit reason of luring you here for your little... chat."

Námo suddenly became angry, angry at Melkor for manipulating him, angry at himself for allowing the manipulation. His aura went from its normal violet to something darker and Oromë took a step back. "Easy, brother," he said. "Now is not the time."

Námo gathered himself together and slowly the anger ebbed and his aura brightened, though not to its normal electromagnetic frequency. "Sorry. I don’t know why he keeps hounding me while he leaves the rest of you alone."

"Are you so sure of that, Little Brother?" Oromë asked quietly and Námo startled at that. Oromë nodded. "We have all been tempted, even Manwë, and more than once. You are not as unique as you think you are."

He let that sink in for a moment before continuing. "Let us see if we can pick up his trail. Give me the spatiotemporal coordinates for the explosion. I want to see just when Melkor arrived at this point."

Námo opened himself up further to Oromë, giving him the exact coordinates. He felt when a part of Oromë’s essence fled down the space-time continuum but chose not to follow. It was a matter of seconds before Oromë returned to himself.

"Well, what did you discover?" Námo asked impatiently when Oromë merely started humming to himself.

"The trail," was all he said. "Come, let us hunt down our errant brother’s lair." He gave Námo a set of coordinates and they were gone, leaving the neutron star to shine in the darkness.

****

They came to a galaxy that was more elliptical than spiral in shape, settling themselves on a small planet with four largish satellites somewhere in the outer edge of one end of the ellipse where stars were few. It was a lovely, wild planet of shallow seas that were ripped by tidal waves from the four moons. Two of them were in the sky where they settled on a small continent. The star around which it orbited was a yellow dwarf. The sky was a murky blue, the seas shades of green and indigo. There was no large life on this planet, not even in the seas, just small mosses clinging tenaciously to the rocks and algae swimming eternally along the ocean currents. It was doubtful that any other higher life form could ever survive the enormous tidal shifts which wracked this planet. Still, Námo admired the will to survive even from an insensate plant and wished it well.

Oromë glanced around incuriously at the scenery, more intent on picking out Melkor’s aura, a faint greyish aura far in the ultra-violet frequency. He grimaced. He well remembered how brightly Melkor’s aura had shone in the Timeless Halls, before the Song. It had been a brilliant violet. He realized that Námo’s own aura was nearly identical in wavelength to Melkor’s but where Melkor’s aura had been tinged with crimson, Námo’s was a pure violet, soothing to the mind.

Since coming into Eä, Melkor’s aura had dimmed out of the visual spectrum into the ultra-violet, making it hard to ‘see’ sometimes. Oromë, however, was quite comfortable working in the ultra-violet range and had no trouble tracking their Fallen Brother’s aura, faint though it was.

"He stopped here," Oromë said.

"Why?" Námo asked, sounding confused. "There’s nothing here that would interest him, is there? We’re not even close to where Atháraphelun will be created. I would think he would hide somewhere closer."

"I don’t think he planned to hide here," Oromë answered. "I think he is trying to muddy the trail a bit."

"Ah," Námo said, suddenly understanding. "Sorry. I’m pretty stupid about these things."

Oromë smiled warmly at his fellow Ayanuz. "Not stupid, just young, and being able to find things seems to be one of my many talents. I like hunting down clues. I don’t know why." He shrugged, as if to dismiss his own feelings.

"I’m sure Atar had his reasons for giving you such a gift. We can all be thankful for it, even if we don’t understand the reason for it."

Oromë nodded. "Come, let us go. I’ve picked up the trail once again." He sent the next set of coordinates to Námo who exhibited surprise when he realized where they were going. "He went there?"

"Apparently," Oromë said. "Shall we go?"

Námo nodded and once again the planet was left to itself, the tiny mosses covering the landscape unaware that they had been hosts, however briefly, to their very creators.

****

They came to another irregular galaxy that lay quite close to the galaxy that would one day be the home of the Eruhíni. There was nothing particularly special about it except it was one of Varda’s star nurseries, as she called them. She had several of them scattered throughout Eä, where she grew new stars and tended to them, along with her Máyar assistants, until they were ready to be released to give Eä light. This particular one was the closest such nursery to the Children’s galaxy and usually heavily guarded.

Námo and Oromë looked around and saw that the nursery was not guarded at all. They gave each other grim looks. Námo wondered where the guards were and how they had been lured away. Oromë sent him a whisper of thought that was barely perceptible to him warning him to be as silent as possible as they entered the nursery itself.

Námo nodded his understanding and together they slipped through the gas clouds that hid the nursery. Everywhere there were young stars, mostly blue-white, but a few that were cooler. Námo let Oromë take the lead. Silently, they wandered from star to star in what Námo thought was a random pattern. Oromë, however, seemed to know just where he was heading.

They came into the very heart of the nursery and Námo had only a split second to see what was happening before Oromë grabbed him and they hid behind one of the nearby stars. Námo sent a whisper to Oromë.

"What’s he doing?"

Oromë shrugged, his expression dark and wrathful. "I do not know, but it cannot be good."

"Varda will have a fit when she finds out."

"We must stop him..."

"Remember what Manwë said, we were not to confront him."

"But he’s doing something to the stars here. We can’t just let him get away with it. And where are all the guards?"

Now Námo shrugged, for there was no answer to that question. He felt torn. Manwë had given them explicit instructions and Námo knew enough about their Elder Brother to know that ignoring explicit instructions only led to uncomfortable consequences. Manwë was the soul of loving patience and kindness to the very least of them, but he expected to be obeyed nonetheless. Yet, he had to agree with Oromë that Melkor had to be stopped. He was up to no good, that much was clear, though what he was actually doing, neither had a clue.

"H-how do we stop him?" he finally asked, but Oromë was saved from answering when someone else spoke, the voice dark and melodious and alluring.

"When you have finished discussing how you will stop me, why don’t you come out from behind that star and join me?"

The two Ayanumuz froze and Melkor laughed softly, though the sound of it sent shards of ice through Námo’s fëa. He looked up to see Melkor standing above them, appearing smug and superior. Námo felt dizzy and suddenly wished he were far away. Oromë looked as if he were wishing the same thing. Melkor gestured.

"Come, Little Ones, and see what games we can play together."

For all that the words sounded light and amusing there was an undercurrent of power that neither of the younger Ayanumuz could fully resist. Before either of them realized what was happening they found themselves standing before Melkor. The First in the Thought of Ilúvatar smiled at them both but his attention was fixed mostly on Námo, who shivered with anticipated delight that bordered on horror. Melkor reached out and caressed him, seducing him, and Námo was powerless to resist. He found himself whimpering in spite of himself as Melkor drew him further into his embrace. The ecstasy he was feeling was darkly intoxicating.

"Hush, Little One," Melkor whispered as he continued caressing Námo, "all is well. Did I not tell you that you belonged to me? Does not my touch delight and excite you? You know you want me. Let me just love you...."

In his attempt to take Námo Melkor had completely forgotten Oromë, indeed had dismissed the other Ayanuz from his mind as unimportant. His goal was Námo. That proved to be a mistake. Suddenly, just when Námo feared he could no longer resist Melkor’s seduction, Oromë attacked Melkor, sending a spike of energy into him that caused the Fallen One to scream in agony. In the momentary confusion that ensued, Námo felt Oromë grab him.

"Run!" he screamed and Námo allowed his older brother to drag him along. In a single thought they were away, and in the next instant they were hiding in the core of a red giant. Námo found himself shaking with fear and disgust, while Oromë held him through the spasms, sending soothing thoughts and caressing him. The caresses were so different from Melkor’s, soothing and healing where Melkor’s had been just the opposite. It took long moments before Námo could even think straight and he clung to Oromë as if to a lifeline.

"We cannot stay here, Little Brother," Oromë said at one point. "We need to find Manwë."

Námo nodded his understanding. He felt shamed at his weakness both in resisting Melkor’s seduction and now. He felt Oromë shake him. "Now, Námo! We must go now." Oromë gave him a set of coordinates. Námo accepted them, not caring where they went, too lost in misery to do more than allow Oromë to take him where he wished to go.

They ended up back in their home galaxy, the largest spiral overlooking the Children’s galaxy. They were back at the ringed planet where Námo had revealed the location of Atháraphelun to the others. Oromë continued to hold Námo, who was still in shock, feeling nauseous.

"We have to find Manwë," Oromë said again, but Námo suddenly felt himself panicking at the thought of facing the Eldest, shamed by his failure, and began to close himself off, resisting Oromë’s attempt to give him another set of coordinates.

"No... No.... NO!!" he screamed and would have fled except Oromë grabbed him and held on to him even as he continued flailing. He was unaware of Oromë calling for help. Suddenly Manwë was there, and surprisingly, Vairë. Oromë flashed an explanation to Manwë even as Námo continued to scream his rage and shame. Manwë said nothing, merely taking Námo into his embrace, caressing him. He did not try to communicate with the younger Ayanuz, merely held him until the tantrum passed. Námo finally calmed to the point where he felt himself floating in a dark ocean of uncaring, barely aware that he was being held. Manwë allowed him to stay that way for a little while then began softly calling to him.

"Look at me, Námo," he said and in spite of the fact that Námo was still closed off from the others, he somehow heard Manwë’s command. He tried to resist but it was impossible. There was a sense of Another behind Manwë’s words, and Námo knew that Atar was speaking through the Eldest.

Slowly, reluctantly, Námo opened himself again and stared at Manwë, waiting for the condemnation he knew he deserved. It didn’t come. Instead, Manwë held him even tighter and the sense of love that emanated from his being shone like a beacon that eclipsed the stars and Námo felt himself being enveloped by a wave of ecstasy that washed over him, cleansing him, consoling him, calming him, so different from the dark ecstasy with which Melkor tried to snare him. He sighed in relief and allowed himself to sink further into Manwë’s embrace, opening himself even further. A tendril of thought whispered to him.

*Thou'rt my best beloved, with whom I am well pleased.*

The thought was not Manwë’s but Atar’s and Námo felt himself weeping, not in shame, but in joy at the love and acceptance he felt at that moment. Manwë rocked him gently, crooning softly, giving Námo time to release the last of the darkness that had threatened to take him.

"Feeling better, my son?" Manwë asked.

Námo nodded. "I’m sorry, Atar, I’m sorry...if Oromë hadn’t... I would have... I would have..."

"Hush now. All is well, my son," Manwë said. "Atar knows. He forgives you, as do I." He embraced Námo again, letting their Atar’s love flow through him and into the gaping wounds of the younger Ayanuz’s fëa where Melkor’s touch had corrupted it, filling the wounds with pure Light. Soon Námo stirred, feeling strengthened, suddenly aware of Vairë’s presence and becoming embarrassed again, though for a different reason. Vairë merely gave him a look of concern.

"Are you well, Námo?" she asked.

"I am well, Vairë," he muttered, attempting to disengage himself from Manwë’s embrace. The Eldest let him go with an amused look.

"Well, frankly, you don’t look well," Vairë countered with a sigh of exasperation. "You look... well... you just don’t look well." she ended lamely.

Námo almost grinned at her tone and Oromë actually chuckled. Manwë gave them all an amused look. "I cannot linger. There is trouble and I must attend to it. Oromë, come with me. Vairë, stay with Námo and see to his comfort."

Námo began to protest. "No, I am well, truly. I will come, too."

Manwë shook his head. "I think it best if you stayed here, my son."

"No, please, don’t leave me here alone," Námo pleaded. The thought that he could be left behind where Melkor might find him made him feel sick.

"Well, hardly alone," Vairë huffed. "Do I look like moondust to you?"

Námo ignored her, keeping his attention on Manwë. For a moment Manwë did not speak, merely gazing intently at Námo, as if gauging his resolve. Námo forced himself not to look away but to endure the examination. Finally, Manwë nodded. "It is well. Come, all of you. In this, everyone will be needed."

He gave them the coordinates and then they were gone.

****

Eruhíni: Children of Eru.

Note on Aulë’s vardium: This is actually Plutonium (²³⁹Pu) with a half-life of 20,000 years. Its standard state is solid at 298 K and it’s silvery-white in color.

Note on the galaxy where Námo and Oromë confront Melkor: This is Barnard’s Galaxy (NGC6822), an irregular galaxy, which lies 1.6 million light years from our own galaxy in the constellation of Sagittarius, making it a close neighbor. There is a large region of the galaxy where stars are formed and is often referred to as a "Giant Star Factory".

At this point in time, the Ayanumuz and Máyar make their ‘home’ in the Andromeda galaxy.

5: Collision Course

They arrived at Manwë’s coordinates in time to hear Varda screaming.

"What’s he doing? WHAT’S HE DOING!?"

Námo looked to where Varda was pointing and gasped. They were all congregated at the edge of the last spiral in the Children’s galaxy, looking towards another spiral galaxy. It was one of Varda’s earlier creations and most of the stars were red giants now. It was smaller than the galaxy that would some day become the habitation of the Children, but size was not the deciding factor. Momentum was. The galaxy was clearly heading for a collision course with the Children’s galaxy, of that there was no doubt. It was also approaching at a speed Námo didn’t think was possible. How Melkor had managed it, none knew, certainly not Námo, but Manwë had warned them that the First in Ilúvatar’s Thought might have powers that exceeded even his own.

Looking at the fast approaching galaxy, Námo had no doubt about that. He quickly calculated the speed of the approaching stars and shivered. At the rate it was traveling it would literally plow through the larger galaxy, disrupting its structure beyond repair. The tidal forces between the two galaxies would seriously warp the space where Atháraphelun was destined to rise, making it impossible for them to bring it into existence. It was obvious that Melkor meant to destroy the galaxy that had been consecrated as the home for Ilúvatar’s other Children.

Ulmo and Aulë were quietly consulting with one another even as Varda continued screaming invectives and the others simply stared at the oncoming galaxy with fascinated horror. Námo moved closer to the two older scientists, hoping to hear something encouraging while trying to make it seem as if he weren’t really listening.

"Even if it does breach the galactic core," he heard Aulë mutter, "it’s not likely to do that much damage. There’s too much distance between the stars."

"True," Ulmo agreed, "but that is not to say that it won’t do such damage to the internal structure of the galaxy that it would make it nearly impossible to create Atháraphelun or seriously delay its creation. Either way, it could well doom the coming of Atar’s other Children."

"Which is what Melkor is hoping for," Manwë said, joining in the conversation. The Eldest gently embraced Námo without seeming to do so, drawing the younger Ayanuz closer to him. Námo did not protest, though he also did not contribute to the conversation between the three older Ayanumuz. He was simply content to be included in their presence and felt safe. He found he did not really want to be out of Manwë’s sight for very long.

"Any ideas?" Manwë asked the other two.

Aulë sighed. "The rate of momentum is beyond anything I thought could be achieved," he said. "In the normal course of events, that particular galaxy might well have intercepted this one, but at a much slower pace and at a different angle, so it would not come close to where Atháraphelun is to be. Also, being so much smaller, the gravitational pull of this galaxy would have simply ripped it apart, absorbing it into itself. We allowed for that sort of thing when Varda wanted to form the galaxies, especially this galaxy. Interceptions were planned for, and all of them such that they would pose no danger to Atháraphelun."

"As it is," Ulmo added, "Melkor has set this galaxy on a path that will bring it much further into the spiral arm where Atháraphelun is to rise and at a speed that will preclude its natural absorption into the larger galaxy."

"But he doesn’t know where Atháraphelun is to be created," Námo interjected in spite of his earlier resolve not to contribute to the conversation. He was not a scientist, certainly not on par with either Ulmo or Aulë, never mind Manwë, so he did not feel he had anything worth saying on this subject. Yet... "Is he just hoping or...." He paused, trying to think things through. He turned to Manwë.

"Why were the guards gone from the star nursery?" he asked. "Oromë and I saw Melkor doing something to the stars in the nursery, but..." he stopped, not sure he wanted to bring back the memories of what happened so soon. "There were no guards," he reiterated, sounding pale even to himself and silently berating himself for being so weak.

Manwë nodded. "They were lured away by the unexpectedness of that galaxy," he pointed to the fast approaching spiral, "suddenly moving towards this one."

"Then this is all meant to distract us from his real purpose," Námo said.

"Destroy the star nursery, you mean?" Oromë asked as he approached their group. The others greeted him with a nod.

"What would that accomplish?" Námo asked. "Destroying the nursery won’t affect what happens here, though that certainly will if we don’t do something about it." He pointed to the still fast approaching galaxy.

"We should send the guards back to the nursery to stop Melkor," Oromë said but Manwë shook his head.

"I meant what I said earlier... it will take all of us to divert this disaster. Varda’s nursery will have to wait."

"What do you propose?" Ulmo asked thoughtfully.

Instead of answering, Manwë looked at Námo. "What do you think should be done?"

Námo gave Manwë a startled look. "Me? I’m no scientist... I..." He started to back away, his emotions still raw from the earlier incident with Melkor. Manwë asking him to determine the fate of the galaxy where the Children were destined to be brought into being was too much.

Unfortunately, Oromë seemed to know his intent and blocked him. "Nay, brother," he said compassionately, "do not flee from this but confront it. You will only hate yourself even more if you don’t."

Manwë nodded. "Oromë is correct, Námo. You are needed in this, for you often see things in a different light than the rest of us."

Námo looked at the others. There was nothing but deep compassion in all their expressions, though Námo was certain that neither Ulmo nor Aulë knew what had happened with Melkor... yet. He sighed, feeling suddenly weary. Looking out over the edge of the galaxy to where the other galaxy was approaching he wondered how they could stop it, but even he realized that was impossible. There was no way to stop it, but...

Something from deep within him seemed to float upward towards the light of reasoning and he felt himself in the grip of prescience. He barely registered that Manwë, recognizing the signs, even if no one else did, had moved closer to him, giving him support, support that he gladly welcomed. He allowed himself to sink into Manwë’s embrace and tried to calm himself enough to allow the images that were overtaking him to come. He had learned not to resist when such images came, though he still cringed somewhat when they did.

He slowly came back to himself. *What did you see, Námo?* Manwë sent a whisper of thought to him, not wishing to startle the younger Ayanuz from his trance.

Námo did not answer immediately, remaining in Manwë's embrace, for he did not wish to engage in conversation yet. He still needed to come to terms with what he had seen first. After a time though, he stirred himself and stepped away from Manwë to face them all. By now the other Ayanumuz and one or two of the more powerful Máyar had joined them, waiting for Námo to speak.

"We let the galaxies collide," he said, keeping his gaze resolutely upon Manwë, ignoring the outcry from the others.

There was a swirl of noise about them as each Ayanuz tried to outdo the other in voicing their protest, Varda especially, but Manwë and Námo, their gazes locked, never moved. Finally, Manwë gave Námo a nod. "Then that is what we will do," he said and all protests stopped, everyone staring at Manwë in speechless surprise. Finally, Varda shook off the shock and confronted her spouse.

"Are you insane?" she nearly screamed. "If we allow this, Atháraphelun will never be created. Why are you listening to this... this child? He can’t even resist Melkor’s allurements without help and you’re letting him decide the fate of Atháraphelun?"

Námo felt himself grow faint at the iridescent flame of Varda’s ire being directed at him. He felt rather than saw Oromë and Irmo bristle at her words, but had no energy himself to offer a protest or even an apology or explanation. Manwë remained imperturbable before his spouse’s anger, his expression cool and remote and Námo suddenly was aware of just how much older Manwë truly was in the Thought of their Atar and felt himself shivering at the thought.

"We will let the galaxies collide," Manwë reiterated, "but not the way Melkor intends."

That shut Varda up and made everyone else blink.

"What do you mean, brother?" Ulmo asked respectfully.

Manwë did not answer Ulmo’s question directly. Instead, he gathered them all into his thought, sending them certain coordinates. "Come. I will show you."

Then the Ayanumuz were gone, leaving behind the Máyar to watch the approaching collision in wondering dread.

****

Námo found that Manwë had led them into the heart of the smaller galaxy. When they were all gathered, he spoke.

"It will take all of us working in unison and we will need the Máyar for this too, but I will show you what we must do." He pointed to the galaxy’s center which was dense with red giants. "We need to explode those stars."

Varda started to protest but Aulë forestalled her, sounding excited. "Yes, yes... it just might work. Ulmo, set up the equations while I study the space-time continuum to see if anything else will be gravely affected by the explosions. No sense doing this just to find we’ve made things worse, not better."

Irmo turned to his older brother. "You saw this?"

Námo's aura indicated denial. "No. I only saw that the galaxies will collide whatever we do to prevent it."

"Their collision is inevitable, but not to Atháraphelun’s detriment," Manwë said then. "That is what I saw." No one was foolish enough to dispute his words, not even Varda, who was looking less belligerent, though she was by no means entirely appeased.

Meanwhile, Ulmo and Aulë were consulting one another, bringing Manwë into the discussion at one point. The other Ayanumuz waited, some more impatiently than others, until the three scientists were satisfied. Varda glowered at them all, muttering, "But they’re my stars. Don’t I have a say in this?"

Námo saw Manwë draw Varda into his embrace, though she tried to resist, still angry at her spouse for supporting Námo, but some kind of communication passed between them and the younger Ayanuz saw her acquiesce and for a brief moment as she and Manwë kissed, their aurae blended into a harmonious shade of iridescent blue.

Finally, Aulë spoke. "We can do it if we explode the stars in this sequence." He showed them all what sequence would be necessary. Námo scanned the information negligently, confident that when the time came he would be able to bring it all to the fore of his memory. He did not need to know how the explosions would be done, he only needed to know what his particular part in all this was.

"What of the Máyar?" Yavanna asked. "Manwë said we were all needed in this, including the Máyar."

Manwë nodded. "And I spoke truly. However, we will merely use the Máyar as back up to provide us with additional energy. Melkor is not the only one who is capable of altering the physics of stars to effect a supernova."

Several of the Ayanumuz nodded, though Námo still had his doubts. He did not voice them however, recognizing that part of his reticence was due to recent events. He still was not fully recovered from Melkor’s... attempted rape. He found himself shivering in spite of his best intentions and felt Oromë and Irmo embrace him in an attempt to comfort him. He appreciated their concern even as he was convincing himself that there was no comfort to be had.

Manwë must have perceived his distress for suddenly he was there before Námo and was gathering the younger Ayanuz into his embrace, sending calming thoughts to him alone. *You are safe now, my son,* he heard the Eldest say. *There is nothing to fear. Do not concern yourself with Varda’s words. She spoke them in anger, but already she regrets them... though you might have to wait a while before you get an apology from her.* This last was said somewhat wryly and Námo found himself snickering, knowing full well what Varda was like. Manwë gave him a fierce hug and then released him, satisfied that Námo would be fine. He turned to the others.

"Summon ye your Máyar," he said formally and each of the Ayanumuz bowed to the Eldest and in the space of a single thought all the Máyar were there, grouped around their masters. Without further explanation, Manwë, Ulmo and Aulë began to Sing the equations, joined first by Varda and Yavanna, then each of the other Ayanumuz in the order of their Becoming. When all the Ayanumuz were joined in harmony, starting with Manwë and Varda, each of the Ayanumuz then brought their Máyar into the Song. It was not as glorious as the Song of Creation, but there was a beauty to it that gave them all joy in the Singing.

Námo noticed that some of the other Ayanumuz were keeping their Máyar firmly reined in, not allowing them to wander from the main theme or attempt to alter the equations. Námo did not have that fear for his own Máyar, for they were few and for some reason intensely loyal to him, though he had yet to figure out why.

The Song swelled to the first crescendo and suddenly one star contracted, then exploded. The Song went into a decrescendo and Varda Sang a second set of equations alone. Námo felt the Power of her Song flow through him and he was hard pressed not to allow it to overwhelm him. He vaguely was aware of one of his Máyar, Tindomerel he thought, give a gasp and instinctively reached out and embraced the now trembling Máya and supported her through this part of the Song, never letting go of the thread of the equations even as he comforted her.

Then the second crescendo came and now several red giants began to contract and explode, setting off a chain reaction as stellar matter spewed out of the center of the galaxy, disrupting the nearby stars in the inner ring of the spiral. The next decrescendo came and now it was Aulë and Ulmo’s turn to Sing the equations for the next part. Námo took hold of all the Máyar under his rule and kept them firmly within the Song. There could be no deviation at this point or everything would be ruined. He was thankful that none of his people resisted him, but trusted him not to let any harm befall them. That was not the case with all of the Ayanumuz and he noticed that Aulë in particular had to clamp down hard on Aulendil and one or two others. Even Irmo had something of a struggle with one of his Máyar and that surprised him.

The third and final crescendo approached and Námo unconsciously drew his Máyar close to him, gathering them and comforting them as best he could, for this part of the Song was dark, even frightening to some degree. For a split second that seemed eternal nothing happened, then, suddenly, the entire galactic center exploded. Dark matter was suddenly limned in starfire as the explosion ripped its way through the galaxy, sending shock waves plowing through the spirals.

Námo watched dispassionately as the galaxy began to alter its form, becoming more diffused, the spiral shape weakening, becoming more elliptical until it was nearly irregular in shape. He sighed as the Song came to an end with Manwë Singing the final equation that would slow the rate of momentum within the galaxy itself. A collision was inevitable, but it would not happen for some time yet and when it did it would not adversely affect the other galaxy. Atháraphelun was still safe and the absorption of the smaller galaxy into the larger one would ultimately lead to the creation of newer stars, stars Námo knew would be needed for the sake of the Children.

When the final note of the Song was Sung, Námo released his hold on his people, silently sending them apologies, which all accepted, though Maranwë voiced their thoughts. "We are thy servants, Lord. Do unto us as thou wilt. We gladly follow thee and want nothing more than to serve thee in joy."

Námo felt humbled by the obvious love and trust that his people had for him and vowed to himself never to abuse it. The other Ayanumuz and Máyar began to stir and with a single command they all followed Manwë back to the other galaxy. They gathered again at the spiral’s edge and looked out. The smaller galaxy’s momentum had definitely slowed. Aulë spoke then.

"Ulmo and I estimate that the actual interception between these two galaxies will not occur for some time, but well before Atháraphelun will be brought forth. We will keep an eye on it just to be sure but I don’t anticipate any real problems."

Manwë nodded, smiling. "That is well." He turned to all of them. "I am well pleased. Go now and take what rest you may."

"What of the star nursery?" Varda asked. "I must see what Melkor has done."

"Then go, beloved," Manwë said solicitously. "Take your guards with you as well as some of mine own."

Varda nodded and between one thought and the next she and several Máyar were gone, leaving the rest to watch the smaller galaxy continue to explode. Námo stood there with Oromë, Irmo and Nienna. Vairë was there as well, though not really a part of their group. Námo moved closer to her and whispered a thought.

*Thank you.*

She looked at him in surprise. *For what?*

*For not laughing.*

She seemed to consider his words then she smiled slyly. *And I forgive you for thinking I’m just so much moondust.*

Námo stared at her in confusion. *Moondust? I never thought of you as moondust...when did I call you moondust?*

Vairë hugged him. *Hush now. I am only jesting,* she whispered to him. *I would never laugh at you Námo, no matter what. Believe this.*

Such was the strength of her words that Námo had no choice but to believe her. He smiled shyly at her. *And I would never think of you as moondust.*

Vairë laughed. *That is well. I might never forgive you if you did.*

Manwë came to them at that moment, hiding a smile at the sight of them "whispering". He thought Vairë would be very good for Námo, for she was obviously fond of him and did not shrink from him, as others might because of the darkness that they all sensed resided within him. It was not the darkness that surrounded Melkor, but it was unnerving to many nonetheless. It was a darkness born of future knowledge, a burden that Manwë could only help support but never share. The onus of prescience made for a lonely Ayanuz and Manwë grieved that his younger brother was so burdened, but rejoiced that Atar had foreseen this and had provided his Child with a helpmeet who would support and comfort him.

Now, if only Námo recognized Vairë for the gift from Atar that she is, Manwë thought to himself wryly. 

Námo straightened when he saw Manwë approach, wondering what the Eldest would require of him. Manwë took them both into his embrace. "Well done, both of you. I think you should go and find rest, Námo. You have had a trying time of late. Go, both of you, and seek the pleasures of Eä. If you are needed I will call for you."

Námo hesitated but Vairë smiled. "And I know just the place."

Before Námo could protest, Vairë sent him the necessary coordinates and they were gone, leaving Manwë to wonder if he and Varda had ever been that young when they were courting, long before they had Sung Eä into being.

****

Note: There is evidence that collisions (or more properly, interceptions) have occurred between our galaxy and other galaxies in the past and that they are still occurring. Scientists believe that the Milky Way and the Andromeda galaxies are on a collision course, though it will be another three billion years before that happens.

I’m sure those readers who are astronomers and physicists are tearing their hair out at how I’ve written this chapter, but as I said in the Prologue, I reserve the right to twist the physics to fit the story and not the other way around. After all, this is supposed to be fantasy, not fact.

6: Interlude On a Nameless Planet

Varda arrived at the stellar nursery with most of her people as well as a contingent of Manwë’s warriors. Manveru and Erunáro, chief of Eonwë’s lieutenants, accompanied her, setting up perimeter guards. There was no sign of Melkor.

Varda called to Ilmarë and Sáyandilmë, her leading assistants, both well versed in stellar dynamics. "Check all the stars," she ordered. "Melkor was up to something. I want to know what."

The two Máyar bowed and set off to discover what they could. The search was long and seemingly thorough, but while they were all looking for obvious tampering with stellar physics, it never occurred to them to think that Melkor had far different plans than to disturb the life cycle of these stars. Thus, the Máyar did not think to look too closely at the wavelengths further along the X-ray band. If they had, they might have noticed that twelve of the younger stars exhibited anomalies.

Or, they might not have....

****

Námo found that Vairë had brought them somewhere in their own galaxy. They were on a small planet orbiting a yellow dwarf, somewhere in the second spiral. They were on the night side and the galaxy spread above them like a mantle of diamonds. Looking around, Námo saw that they were on the shore of a large body of water, though it was not a sea, for it was too still. A lake then, he decided, its further shore lost in the moonless night. All around them was silence.

"This is where I like to come when I want to think," Vairë confided. "Isn’t it beautiful?"

Námo agreed. This particular planet had three small moons, Vairë explained in a quick burst of ósanwë-latya, though none were presently visible on this side of the planet. It was a world of shallow seas and two large land masses. Only small animal life existed — several species of swimming creatures and a few that flew. The lands were covered with grasses and small flowers, but nothing else. The seas were slowly drying up and some day in the far distant future there would be little or no water left and the world would become a desert. It was not something he mourned, for it was part of the natural order of things. He took pleasure in the richness of the world now and when it eventually became a barren world of blowing sandstorms, he would rejoice in the unique beauty of a dead world with equal pleasure.

"What do you think about?" Námo asked curiously after he had absorbed the information she had sent him about the planet.

Vairë shrugged. "Lots of things." She started dancing, following the whims of a breeze that had sprung up, rustling the tall grass.

"Such as?" he asked with a faint tone of amusement. Námo watched her, mesmerized. She was graceful, perhaps not as graceful as Vána, or Melyanna, one of his brother Irmo’s chief Máyar, but she was beautiful nonetheless. Námo wanted to join her in the dance, but sudden shyness claimed him and he contented himself with simply watching.

"I think about Atar and wonder if he misses us and I think about the Children to come and wonder if they’ll like us."

Námo forced himself not to laugh, knowing Vairë was completely serious. "Do you think about anything less... weighty?" he finally asked.

Vairë smiled as she continued dancing, stepping out over the star-mirrored waters. "Oh, I also think about us," she said with a slight giggle.

"Us!" Námo exclaimed. "You mean the Ayanumuz?"

"No, silly. I mean us!" Vaire laughed, then she gestured invitingly. "Come join me."

Námo did, much to his surprise, and embracing her in his thought, he swung her around, much to her delight. She squealed and, slipping out of his grasp, skipped further across the lake with Námo following until they were near the center where the waters were deep.

"Let’s incarnate," Vairë said unexpectedly and before Námo could utter a word otherwise, she did just that, her naked hröa immediately splashing into the water, sinking out of sight.

"Vairë!" Námo yelled in surprise and without conscious thought wove himself a hröa and found himself dropping into the cold waters. The shock of it brought him to his senses and he came to the surface. "Vairë!" he called again.

"Over here," he heard her shout and looking about saw her some distance away, swimming slowly towards the shore. He went after her, quickly catching up to her and in a fit of revenge for scaring him he swam underneath and pulled her under. She shrieked in feigned surprise and they wrestled for a time, laughing all the while. Eventually they grew tired of the game and began to swim lazily towards the shore, reveling in the feel of the cool liquid against their skin.

The Ayanumuz did not often incarnate at this time, preferring to wait until the Children appeared to clothe themselves in flesh. Yet, occasionally, just for the joy of it, they would incarnate, finding the physical sensations to be overwhelming at times. It was almost addictive, this sensory overload, so Manwë had cautioned them to take care and not to overindulge.

The two Ayanumuz swam slowly toward the shore, coming out and lying side by side in the grass, their hröar barely touching. For a space of time they lay there, drinking in the beauties of the night, enjoying the warm breeze drying their skin. Above them the sky was brilliant with stars and, as if in honor of their creators, a meteor shower commenced, giving them a delightful show.

"Hmmm," Vairë sighed. "This is nice."

"Yes, it is," Námo agreed. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"You’re welcome, my lord," she said with a sly smile.

Námo rose to an elbow to look at her. She was as beautiful in hröa as she was in fëa, though the beauty was of a different order. Her skin was alabaster, her hair dark and flowing. He was surprised to see that her eyes were violet but decided he liked them.

"I’m not your lord," he whispered. Impulsively, he bent down and kissed her gently on the lips.

"Would you like to be?" she asked with a satisfied sigh when he broke contact.

Námo shook his head, lying back down. "You don’t want to be with me, Vairë. I’m not..."

Now it was her turn to raise herself on an elbow, placing a finger to his lips. "Hush," she admonished him. "Do not say it. You’re not weak and you’re not Melkor. You’re you. You have strengths in you you barely understand, but I do. I see them in you and I love you for them." She bent down, her hair covering them as she kissed him and this time, Námo wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of him, allowing the kiss to deepen. For the longest time they lay there, enjoying the touch of their hröar, and then slowly, by mutual consent, they dissolved their physical forms until they were once again only fëar.

Vairë stepped away from Námo with a laugh. "That was fun," she exclaimed. "We’ll have to do that again some time."

Námo joined her in laughter. "Let’s not tell Manwë, though. You know what a stickler he is for propriety."

"Well, if we were officially espoused..."

Námo shook his head, his humor vanishing. "Let’s not talk about that right now."

Vairë sighed, giving him a quick embrace. "We’ll talk when you’re ready, beloved," she whispered to him, her very being full of understanding and compassion. "I can wait."

Now Námo felt guilty and tried to apologize, but Vairë stayed him. "It is well, Námo, truly it is. I’ve been chasing you since before the Ainulindalë, though you didn’t seem to notice."

"I noticed," Námo protested, then looked chagrined at Vairë’s laugh. "I-I just... I mean..."

"Hush now, my love," Vairë said with a smile. "You do not have to apologize to me, ever. When you are ready, I’ll be here."

Námo nodded. "Thank you," he said fervently, wishing he could do what she wanted, but knowing that it wasn’t the right time for either of them. He looked about him, taking pleasure in the scenery. This part of the world was slowly turning towards the terminator and soon dawn would greet them. "So what do you call this place?"

Vairë smiled. "Ambaronya."

Námo gave her an amused glance. "As good a name as any." Privately, though, he was beginning to think of it as Ambar-Vaireva. Perhaps one day, he mused, it might even be renamed Ambaremma. That thought pleased him, though he did not share it with her, feeling suddenly shy again. He silently cursed himself for being so... so whatever he was. With a sigh he wondered if Manwë had ever felt this stupid with Varda.

****

Ósanwë-latya: Thought-opening; direct, telepathic thought-transfer.

Ambaronya: My World.

Ambar-Vaireva: Vairë’s World.

Ambaremma: Our World.

7: Melyanna

Varda wasn’t satisfied that Ilmarë, Sáyandilmë and the other Máyar did not find anything amiss in the star nursery, but all the evidence seemed to point to no other conclusion.

"Perhaps Námo and I interrupted Melkor before he had a chance to do anything," Oromë suggested doubtfully.

Manwë shook his head. "As to that, there’s no way to tell at this time. We must be more vigilant. My brother is stepping up his campaign with feints and diversions. That means he may be readying a full-scale assault."

They looked grimly at each other. "So what shall we do?" Vána asked. She was the youngest among them and looked to the others for support and comfort. Yavanna took her younger sister in the Thought of Ilúvatar into her embrace.

"What we can," she answered, "and trust to Atar for the rest."

Manwë nodded. "Your sister is correct, meldanya. To that end we should double the guard on the star nurseries and keep a more consistent watch on the Children’s galaxy. Nothing must happen to delay their coming."

So it was decided, little realizing that their measures were already too little and too late.

****

For some time nothing untoward occurred. Watches were maintained and the Ayanumuz went about the business of structuring Eä. Some of the wastelands were still embroiled in Chaos and Námo was often called upon to settle the areas in question. It seemed to be a particular gift of his. While he rejoiced in the anarchical freedom which Chaos evoked in him, even better was the pleasure he felt when he invoked the more particular freedom of Right Order, with its boundaries and limitations. Chaos for the sake of chaos did not attract him. It was drawing Order from Chaos that gave him special delight. Chaos had its place in the greater scheme of things, but it could not dominate. Chaos was the servant of Order, not its master and Námo was the Lord of Order-Out-of-Chaos to which Order would eventually devolve, for Eä was not the Timeless Halls. Eventually all would come to an end and then there would be a New Beginning.

Irmo often accompanied Námo to these wastelands. His gifts were different from his older brother’s, but they were close in mind and spirit and often helped one another.

"Estë and I are worried about Melyanna," Irmo said at one point as they moved from one trouble spot to the next.

Námo was attempting to restructure the physics of one of the more distant galaxies from their home galaxy. Space here seemed particularly recalcitrant to remaining stable and Time was flowing backwards, which really annoyed the Ayanuz to no end.

"Why is that?" he asked with only part of his attention on Irmo. "Here, grab that star that’s drifting twenty degrees from galactic north. I don’t know why it won’t stay put."

Irmo complied to Námo’s order and together they brought the errant star back to where it belonged. "She’s become somewhat withdrawn lately," Irmo said once they had gotten the star where Námo wanted it. "Neither Estë nor I can get her to tell us why."

While they weren’t officially espoused yet, there was an ‘understanding’ between Irmo and Estë which the other Ayanumuz and Máyar respected. Lately, in fact, Irmo’s people and Estë’s had begun cooperating with one another, sharing tasks.

Irmo and Estë were charged with monitoring the general health and well-being of the Ayanumuz and Máyar. Some of them tended to be so focused on their work that they were sometimes in danger of becoming overly fatigued. It was often the case that one or the other would have to advise their fellow Ayanumuz or the Máyar to take some time to rest. Such advice wasn’t always appreciated or accepted.

They all remembered the monumental row that had occurred between Irmo and Manwë when the former ordered the latter to leave off working and Manwë had point-blank refused. Both Ayanumuz were stubborn, though it looked as if Manwë might actually win the argument, for Irmo was beginning to feel intimidated telling off the Eldest. Then, Atar intervened gently by telling Manwë directly to heed Irmo’s advice. Manwë, of course, capitulated immediately, even apologizing to Irmo for his rudeness, before taking Varda and disappearing for a time.

It was to Irmo’s credit that he never smirked over his ‘win’; it was to Manwë’s credit that when some time later Estë tentatively suggested that perhaps Varda could do with some rest Manwë promptly and without argument spirited his spouse away, though Varda loudly protested that she did not need a holiday, just some more time to figure out what she was doing wrong. She had been trying and failing to get several stars to ignite. They ended up becoming what Aulë, in a fit of rare snideness, called brown dwarfs. Varda was both upset and embarrassed and threatened to do things to Aulë’s aura that would turn him into a brown dwarf.

At that point Estë had stepped in with her suggestion to Manwë and the Eldest had taken Varda and gone. When they returned some time later, they were both in a better frame of mind. Varda even apologized to Aulë for her threats. Aulë gave her his own apology and suggested they call the failed stars something else, but Varda demurred.

"‘Brown dwarf’ is as good a name as any for these miserable excuses for stars," she had said, flinging one of the offending objects from her sight with a single disdainful thought.

After that no one argued when either Irmo or Estë told them to stop working and go play.

"Withdrawn how and for how long?" Námo asked while taking an inventory to make sure Space was acting as it should. He had a feeling that one of the higher spatial dimensions had destabilized in this part of Eä and made a mental note to have Ulmo or Aulë check it out. Extradimensional physics was their specialty and Námo was happy to leave them to it. He had enough difficulty dealing with the four dimensions in which the visible part of Eä resided.

"She’s stopped dancing since the lighting of the second beacon," Irmo replied.

"She’s stopped... wait," Námo pointed to an area of dark matter. "Let’s shift that clear of this area. We’ll move it closer to the galactic core. I think it’s interfering with the physics here."

The two brothers in the Thought of Ilúvatar concentrated their wills towards moving the dark matter towards the center of the galaxy. It was not strenuous work but it did take some concentration. Finally, Námo was satisfied that they had done all they could. Even now the chaotic features were leveling out and Space in this part of Eä was once again becoming stable while Time now flowed in the right direction, towards final entropy rather than back toward primeval Chaos.

"She’s stopped dancing?" Námo asked Irmo in disbelief as they left that part of Eä for still another area that was exhibiting chaotic features.

Irmo nodded, his expression troubled. "And Ingil tells me that Aulendil has been seeking her company lately, though he does not think she particularly enjoys it."

"Why does he think that?" Námo asked with a frown.

"Ingil noticed once when Aulendil was attempting to speak to Melyanna, that her aura darkened and she seemed to be afraid. When Ingil approached them to find out what was going on Melyanna’s aura brightened as if in relief and Aulendil seemed... angry."

Námo stared across the vast span of space, idly watching the galaxies rotate and drift apart, thinking. He had his suspicions about Aulendil, but nothing concrete. Melyanna was one of the more beautiful of the Máyar who manifested themselves in feminine mode. She was a lover of song and dance and was often seen encouraging lifeforms on various planets to thrive simply by singing and dancing her way through the stars. For her not to dance was... unthinkable.

"Yet, she will not tell you why she has stopped dancing."

Irmo shrugged. "We can’t force her to tell us, we can only allow her the space she needs to open herself up to us. Estë is worried that Melyanna might be thinking of... joining Melkor."

Námo shuddered and tried not to think what the implications of Melyanna rebelling against Atar might be. Whenever he saw her, he always had a feeling that she would some day do something important, but he could never quite see what it was, only that it somehow involved one of the Firstborn.

"What would you like me to do?" Námo finally asked as they came to an area near the boundary of Eä. Beyond was Cúma where none ventured, for it was Outside, whereas within Eä Ilúvatar’s Will prevailed. Námo found he did not like to venture too close to the boundaries, though he noticed that since his last visit to this area the boundary had moved, showing that Eä was expanding. He would have to remember to tell Manwë. There was some debate among them as to whether Eä would grow over Time or remain much as they had found it when they first entered it. Now he had proof that Eä was indeed expanding. That thought pleased him. He had not liked the idea of there being no change to the universe. He realized suddenly that he thrived on change and hated stagnation. He delighted in the ever changing face of the place that was now his home until Atar decreed otherwise and was glad.

Irmo looked relieved. For some reason he thought Námo would be better in the role of Comforter than he, though he wasn’t sure why. Námo seemed so unsure of himself sometimes that it was difficult to think that he was the older brother. He remembered a conversation he had had with Atar once....

Irmo was sitting on the edge of the water-meads of the Timeless Halls, deep in thought, when he felt Atar’s Presence enfolding him.

"Tell me what troubles thee, child," Ilúvatar said, rocking him gently.

Irmo looked at Ilúvatar in confusion. "But thou knowest everything, Atar. Why dost thou ask?"

Ilúvatar laughed. "But child, dost thou know everything?"

Irmo stared at his Atar blankly, not sure what was meant. Ilúvatar relented and with a smile quietly explain. "When thou dost open thyself to me and tell me what is in thy heart, I rejoice, because it means that thou needest me and, best beloved, I need to be needed."

"Thou?" Irmo asked.

"Of course, child. Why dost thou think I created thee?" He gave his child a hug and kissed him gently. Irmo sighed in contentment and allowed himself to sink more fully into his Atar’s embrace. "Now, tell me what troubles thee, my son."

"It’s my brother, Námo," Irmo said hesitantly, for now he wondered if his fears were foundless and if Atar would scold him for his lack of faith. "I... I’m worried for him."

"Why?"

"He... he’s my elder brother, but sometimes I feel as if I’m the elder," Irmo explained. "He seems so unsure of himself and... and I don’t know why."

"And that troubles thee," Ilúvatar said and Irmo nodded, feeling immensely grateful that he wasn’t being scolded for his words. Instead, Ilúvatar gave him another hug before replying. "Thy brother has a destiny to fulfill that will be very hard on him at times, and the knowledge of it is sometimes a burden that leaves him feeling weak."

"Couldst thou not have made him stronger?"

Ilúvatar shook his head. "Had I made him stronger, he would have broken under the weight of it. I have made him just weak enough so he will bend and not break. But I have given him thee to help him in his weakness, just as I have given thee him to help thee in thine."

"I... I don’t understand, Atar," Irmo confessed, feeling suddenly foolish.

"I gave the both of ye to each other so that each may help the other in your times of need. Together ye are stronger than ye are separately. Thy brother seems weak and unsure because thou thinkest he is, but if thou dost look past his weakness to the strength that lies behind it, thou shalt find that he is stronger than either of ye know. He needs thine encouragement and support to find that strength."

Irmo thought about that for a time before he asked another question. "Why couldst thou not just tell him?"

Now Ilúvatar laughed and it was merry and Irmo felt himself grow merry and less troubled for the sound of it. "Child, he would not believe me. It is something he must discover for himself with thy help, if thou'rt willing."

"Of course I’m willing, Atar," Irmo exclaimed.

Ilúvatar smiled gently at his beloved child. "That is well, my best beloved, for I need thee to be there for him when I cannot."

Irmo nodded shyly, pleased that his Atar needed him. "I thank thee, Atar," he said simply.

"No, child. I thank thee," Ilúvatar replied, embracing Irmo with his love....

"Would you speak to her?" he asked his brother. "Estë thinks that she might open up to you. You seem to have a gift for getting people to open up even when they are most unwilling."

Námo snorted. "I think you’re exaggerating, but thank you for the compliment anyway."

Irmo grinned. "You’re welcome. Should I send her to you or..."

Námo shook his head. "I will find her. Now, let’s finish up here and then go find Estë and Vairë and take them swimming in the corona of one of those variable stars Varda created recently."

Irmo agreed enthusiastically, for corona swimming was a favorite sport of the Ayanumuz as they played among the stellar flares. Soon they were finished with their task and with a quick thought, returned to their own galaxy in search of fun.

****

Námo could not find Melyanna when he sought her for she had disappeared. None of Irmo’s other Máyar knew where she had gone. On a hunch, Námo sought out Aulendil. He found Aulë’s chief Máya busily cataloguing some of the heavy elements his master tended to collect from star cores. These particular samples, Aulendil explained to Námo when the Ayanuz asked, had been garnered from the latest supernova and Námo realized the Máya meant the very one Melkor had set off for the sole purpose of luring Námo to him. Námo forced himself not to shudder as he looked upon the collection.

"I do not know where Melyanna has fled, my lord," Aulendil told Námo when the Ayanuz questioned him. The Máya did not quite face Námo as he spoke.

"Fled, you say?" Námo asked mildly. "From what was she fleeing?"

Aulendil’s aura shifted slightly and Námo could sense the Máya invoking aquapahtië. Námo pretended not to notice, merely waiting for the Máya to answer his question. After a brief time Aulendil opened himself again and his words, while innocent seeming, felt somehow ‘wrong’ to Námo.

"A mere turn of phrase, my lord. I only meant that she has fled from her duties, leaving others to take up the slack."

"Then you have no idea where she may have gone."

"None, lord," Aulendil said, "but I am sure she will return anon. And now, if you will excuse me, lord, my master is waiting for me."

Námo indicated his assent for Aulendil to depart and with a bow that seemed just too studied to Námo’s mind, the Máya departed, taking his macabre collection with him.

For a time Námo stood there deep in thought. The stars shifted another ten degrees as they slowly revolved around the galactic core before he stirred. Coming to a decision, he opened himself fully, never realizing that his aura flared to incandescence, its spectrum deepening to a shade of purple that would one day be called "royal" by the Children.

*Atar,* he called out from the depths of his fëa, *help me find her, for I fear she is lost and can no longer find her way back.*

*Lost only to herself, my son, never to me,* came the quiet reply and then a part of Námo that he didn’t know existed made itself manifest. For a time he could not move or think, for he was too stunned... and afraid.

*Atar...*

*Hush, child,* came the reply, *fear not! I have been waiting for thee to come to this. It is one of thy gifts, to call the lost to thee. It is a gift thou wilt need when thou dost shepherd my mortal Children into my Presence. Many will resist, for they will be afraid. It will be thy task to call to them, comfort them and assure them of my love.*

*B-but why would they be afraid?* It was the only part of what Ilúvatar had said that had made any sense.

*Because they will be weaker in fëa than my Elder Children, but in their weakness I will show forth my strength and thou wilt aid me in the task.*

Námo felt both honored and humble and wondered if he was really capable of using this new gift properly. To have the power to compel the fëar of Atar’s mortal Children to come to him when the time was meet was a responsibility fraught with danger.

*If I had not believed thou wert capable, best beloved, I would never have given thee this gift,* came the gentle reprimand.

*Forgive me, Atar, I never meant to doubt thee.*

*I know that, child. Now, go seek for the one who is lost and bring her back to her family.*

Námo smiled at that and opening himself up more fully to this new gift, he sent his thoughts through the Cosmos in search of a single soul.

****

He found her idly floating along the upper currents of a gas giant orbiting a giant red-orange star far from their own galaxy. It wasn’t so much that he was surprised to find her doing such a thing — floating on air currents of gas giants was a favorite pastime for both Máyar and Ayanumuz — it was where he found her doing it.

"I remember when Varda made this particular star," he said conversationally as he approached her. "It was one of her first efforts and she was so proud of herself, she glowed for quite some time afterwards."

Melyanna gathered herself together, looking both startled and chagrined. "H-how did you find me, lord? I... I did not think anyone remembered this place anymore."

"Atar remembers," Námo replied as gently as he knew how and was startled when the Máya gave an inarticulate cry and sought his embrace, weeping. She clung to him and he gently rocked her, hoping to calm her.

"Why have you stopped dancing, meldanya?" he asked her.

"Aulendil," she whispered. "He says that dancing and singing are all very well, but it’s not work. He says I should be... more attentive to my duties and... and to my lord. He says..."

"Akashan... akashan," Námo interrupted in disgust. "Is Aulendil Atar in disguise and his words law?"

Melyanna stepped out of Námo’s embrace, exhibiting confusion. "Aulendil is older than I in Atar’s Thought and... and Lord Aulë’s chief Máya."

Námo suddenly understood. Among the thirteen Ayanumuz all were considered equals, peers to each other, though they accepted Manwë as Ilúvatar’s vice-gerent in Eä, with the final say in all matters. Yet, it seemed that among the more numerous Máyar a class system had developed where those who were older were deemed to have authority over the younger. Melyanna belonged to both Estë and Vána, one of the very few Máyar who had given their allegiance to more than one of the Ayanumuz. She was also his brother’s chief Máya, though she shared that position with Niellúnë. As far as any of the Ayanumuz were concerned, Melyanna held as much authority as any of the other chief Máyar. Apparently, though, the Máyar themselves felt differently. Authority, it would seem, was based on who had come first in their Atar’s Thought.

Námo grimaced to himself. Melyanna obviously believed that Aulendil, being her elder, had the authority to chastise her and she had taken his reprimands to heart. It was no wonder that she had been so miserable lately. He smiled at her, taking her into his embrace once again, though she was somewhat resistant, and gently caressed her, hoping to soothe her troubled fëa.

"Do you enjoy dancing and singing among the stars, child?"

"You know I do, lord," she whispered.

"Do you think Atar rejoices in seeing you use your gifts of music and dance for the love you have for Eä?"

She looked forlorn at the question. "I... I don’t know."

"Why don’t you ask him?"

Melyanna’s aura darkened somewhat in dismay. "Aulendil says we shouldn’t bother Atar with trivial matters... and anyway, everyone knows Atar only speaks to Lord Manwë now."

Námo forced himself not to laugh even as he was fuming over Aulendil’s presumption. The poor child was obviously sincere and he did not wish to cause her any more emotional pain than she was already suffering.

*Dost thou wish to say anything, Atar?* Námo sent his thoughts beyond Eä and heard Ilúvatar chuckle in amusement.

*It would be best if the words came from thee, my son.*

*But what should I say to her?*

*What thou knowest to be true.*

Námo considered this and nodded to himself. "Listen to me, Melyanna," he said gently. "Atar is always ready to listen to any of his children, from the greatest to the least, and he will answer you if you keep yourself open to his words."

He felt her begin to relax and continued. "Atar gave you the gifts of singing and dancing for a reason, to bring beauty to Eä. I have listened to your singing and I hear the echo of the Song in it. I have watched you dance and have seen the stars themselves brighten with your passing. Do not think that you shirk your duty to your lord and lady or to any of the Ayanumuz with your singing and dancing. They are your work, Melyanna. They always have been."

She was weeping now and Námo rocked her gently, waiting for her to become calm. Finally, she stilled and her aura brightened somewhat towards the soft blue-green that was its normal color.

"You must think I’m... silly," she said shyly.

Námo grinned. "Silly doesn’t begin to cover it, my dear."

She gave him a surprised look and then, sensing the humor lurking behind his words, started giggling and soon they were both laughing. When they were calmer Námo gave her a penetrating look.

"Estë thinks you are considering joining Melkor."

The shock that ran through her fëa was obvious and she began stammering a denial. Námo stopped her with a silent gesture.

"I’m glad to know her fears are foundless. Perhaps you should tell her so."

Melyanna nodded.

"Good," Námo said, then gave her a wicked grin. "And now... I’ll race you back home."

With a startled laugh she did just that. Who actually won the race, though, was hotly debated between them for many ages to come.

****

Meldanya: My dear.

Cúma: The Void, into which Melkor would eventually be thrust at the conclusion of the War of Wrath.

Aquapahtië: Privacy. Literally, "full-closedness", used of a mind that closes itself against telepathic communications.

Akashan: (Valarin) "He says", referring to Eru. The elves adopted and adapted this word as axan, translated as "law, rule, commandment, as primarily proceeding from Eru". Námo is making a play on words.

A note on brown dwarfs: Brown dwarfs are objects which are too large to be called planets and too small to be stars. They have masses that range between twice the mass of Jupiter and the lower mass limit for nuclear reactions (0.08 times the mass of our sun). Brown dwarfs are thought to form in the same way that stars do — from a collapsing cloud of gas and dust. However, as the cloud collapses, it does not form an object which is dense enough at its core to trigger nuclear fusion. The conversion of hydrogen into helium by nuclear fusion is what fuels a star and causes it to shine. It is now thought that there might be as many brown dwarfs as there are stars.

8: Mápaina

The stars of the Children’s galaxy shifted along their orbits around the galactic center another thirty degrees. There had been no sign of Melkor for some time, nor any sign of those Máyar who had followed him. The Ayanumuz maintained a front of unconcern before their own Máyar, deftly deflecting any questions. Most of the Máyar seemed content with the answers given, but some were not. Aulendil was one, but surprisingly, Acairis, Vairë’s chief Máya, was another. Yet, neither Aulendil nor Acairis did or said anything explicit for which their masters could fault them. Outwardly, they were obedient, yet some of the Ayanumuz, like Námo, had their suspicions. Námo expressed his concerns to Vairë, but she dismissed them, stating that Acairis was merely exhibiting frustration at the lack of information, a lack that they all felt. Námo had to agree with her there, however reluctantly.

The Máhanumaz met occasionally to discuss policy and what Melkor might be up to. Námo tended to remain in the background, speaking only when addressed directly by one of the others. He still felt as if he had no business being numbered among them and remained shy before his elders.

"I do not like this silence," Varda said at one such meeting. "Melkor has been absent for too long. I cannot believe he has given up on his ambitions."

"Hardly," Manwë said with a humorless snort.

"Should we try tracking him down again?" Oromë asked.

Nämo tried not to shudder but Manwë must have noticed for the Eldest gave him a sympathetic glance and his aura deepened almost to cobalt in denial. "No. I will not send others to find him. That is not a mistake I plan to make twice."

Námo, for some reason, felt immensely grateful to Manwë at that moment, not for deciding against searching for Melkor, but for indirectly letting Námo know he was not to blame for the previous mission’s failure. The sense of blame had haunted him and it was one reason why he was reluctant to participate in the ongoing discussions among the Máhanumaz.

"Yet to hope that if we ignore him he’ll go away is not only dangerous, but foolhardy," Ulmo protested.

"I did not say we will ignore Melkor," Manwë said in mild reproof. "I said I will not make the mistake of entrusting any of the younger Ayanymuz with such a mission."

Námo went perfectly still, his usual deep violet aura shading towards red in mortification. He stole a glance at Oromë and saw that he was looking equally mortified. No one else seemed to notice, all the others looking nonplused at Manwë’s words, even Varda.

"What do you mean, brother?" Ulmo finally asked, his tone harsh.

Manwë, for his part, remained calm. "I simply mean that I will seek for Melkor myself."

"Are you insane!?" Varda demanded hotly.

"You cannot risk yourself that way, Manwë," Aulë said bluntly and several of the other’s echoed their agreement with Aulë’s words.

"Oh? Why not?" Manwë asked, his tone deceptively mild.

"You are the Eldest among us," Aulë answered.

"Which is precisely why I am the one to do this," Manwë retorted. "Melkor and I are brothers in Atar’s Thought. I know him better than any of you. More importantly, our powers are equally matched. Sending Námo and Oromë against Melkor was a mistake. Even together they were no match against him. None of you are."

This statement silenced them all and several aurae darkened in dismay. Manwë sighed, already regretting his words. When he spoke again it was with great gentleness. "I speak only the truth," he said. "None of you are a match against Melkor. Only I have the power to confront him and even so I fear he may come off the winner. Melkor does not believe in limits for himself and for that reason he is doubly dangerous."

"If you are bent on this course, Manwë," Varda then said, "you will not go alone."

"And who would you suggest accompany me, Beloved?"

Varda nodded towards Oromë, who gasped in surprise. "Oromë is the best hunter among us. He will be an asset to you."

Námo heard those words and his fëa sank towards despair. He did not deny Varda’s words concerning Oromë for they were absolutely true, but the unspoken implication, it seemed, was that Námo was not an asset, could never be an asset to Manwë or anyone else in the ongoing war against Melkor. He wanted to disappear at that moment. An unquenchable longing for the Timeless Halls assailed him but he quashed it ruthlessly. That avenue was closed to him until Atar decreed otherwise.

Oromë, for his part, looked both pleased and frightened by Varda’s assessment and he looked at Manwë with trepidation.

The Eldest nodded. "Agreed. Oromë will accompany me... on this one condition."

"And that is?" Varda asked, sounding suspicious.

Manwë gave his spouse a hard stare. "You will apologize to Námo for your implied slight towards him in your praise of Oromë."

Varda’s aura shifted from pure white to yellow-white. "I did not..."

"No, Beloved," Manwë said, his tone somewhat sharp. "Let there be only truth between us." His own aura never changed, remaining a pure steady blue.

There was an uneasy silence among them and Námo wanted to protest that no apology was necessary but Manwë’s expression daunted him and he remained silent and embarrassed. Varda’s aura turned a deeper yellow, her normal incandescent brilliance missing. Finally, before the silence became too unbearable, she turned to Námo.

"I truly never meant to imply that you are of no value to us, Námo," she said, sounding repentant. Námo was not sure he liked Varda this way; it was too incongruent with the usual image he had of her. "I only meant that Oromë’s hunting skills will help my spouse in this madcap scheme of his," she concluded with an exasperated look at Manwë.

Manwë’s own aura brightened slightly in amusement and the others laughed. Námo gave Varda a brief bow, acknowledging her apology, such as it was. He knew it was the most he was going to get from her and was content. Manwë took Varda into his embrace and silent communication passed between them. Whatever was said, the result was that Varda’s own aura returned to its normal incandescent white.

"That’s settled then," Manwë finally said, releasing Varda from his embrace. "Oromë will come with me. While we are gone, I would like Aulë and Ulmo to continue their own search for the tenth spatial dimension."

The two Máhanumaz nodded. Manwë continued. "Varda will be in charge while I’m gone... she and Námo."

"What!?" both Varda and Námo shouted at the same time.

The others looked at Manwë, stunned.

Manwë gave Varda a mild look. "I think, Beloved, that it is time you and Námo got better acquainted and this is the perfect opportunity while I’m away. You will have the final say in all matters but only after you have consulted Námo for his input. I’m sure he’ll be a great asset to you."

Before either Varda or Námo could utter a protest, Manwë stayed them with a stern look. "I have spoken," he said with great finality. Then, he gestured to Oromë. "Come, let us hunt."

With that, Manwë and Oromë vanished, leaving the other Máhanumaz staring at one another in stunned silence.

****

They explained Manwë’s absence to the other Ayanumuz and Máyar by saying that Manwë wished to examine some of the wilder wastelands of Eä for himself and Oromë had gone with him because the Eldest wanted to further test the younger Ayanuz’s tracking skills. They all accepted that Varda would lead them in Manwë’s absence, but not a few looked askance at Námo when they learned that he would co-rule with Varda. Irmo gave his brother a strange look, but Vairë merely smiled and hummed to herself in satisfaction.

At first Varda was very conscientious in consulting Námo about every little decision. For the most part, Námo merely agreed with her assessment of the situation and the necessary decision to be made. He had the feeling, however, that she was deliberately bringing the most inconsequential matters to his attention and was convinced of it when Varda approached him at one point asking him what color he thought the next batch of stars she was making should be.

At that, Námo exploded. "Frankly, Varda, I don’t care if the stars are pink!"

The absurdity of his statement caused Varda to laugh, while several of the Ayanumuz looked on in amusement.

"Pink it is," Varda said with a wicked grin and Námo muttered imprecations at the absent Manwë which only caused Varda to laugh harder.

"I’ll remember to tell him that you said that when he returns," she said. "In fact, Eönwë can remember it for me."

She gestured to Manwë’s chief Máya, who obliged his mistress by repeating Námo’s words verbatim, right down to the intonation. Námo stared at the Máya in undisguised fascination, having been unaware that Eönwë possessed such a gift. For his part, Eönwë gave Námo an apologetic grin which the Ayanuz returned with a resigned shrug.

Satisfied that she had gotten the better of him, Varda then apologized to Námo. "I’m sorry. I’ve been taking advantage of your... youth," she said. "Manwë was correct though. I do value your input, Námo. You have a unique point of view. I confess I don’t always understand or appreciate it, but more often than I care to admit, your insights have proven sound."

Námo didn’t know what to say to that except "Thank you". It seemed to be enough. From that point on, his relationship with Varda improved and she made an honest effort to consult him on important matters, taking his suggestions seriously. The others noticed Varda’s change in attitude and gradually accepted Námo’s leadership.

This proved instrumental when the unthinkable happened.

****

Yavanna and her sister Vána were generally charged with overseeing the development of life on those planets that orbited the habitable zone of their primaries. Not all stars could support life they discovered and some could only support the most basic single-celled kelvar and olvar. There was a delicate balance that had to be achieved and they were not always successful. In spite of their failures the two sisters were optimistic that they would be able to ensure that Atháraphelun would be a haven of life for the Children. They had already determined that planets orbiting at a particular distance from yellow-white dwarf stars seemed to fare the best in supporting life.

To that end, Varda had populated the galaxies with a myriad of such stars and planets were built to certain parameters according to complex mathematical formulae created by Aulë and Ulmo. The Ayanumuz were unsure just what form Atháraphelun would ultimately take and so there were several ongoing experiments to see which model planet would be the best for the Children to inhabit.

Yavanna approached Varda some time after the "pink star" incident, as everyone was calling it, much to Námo’s chagrin, all excited, convinced that she and Vána had gotten it right this time.

"Come and see," she said and Varda agreed, taking several Máyar with her as an escort. Vairë decided to accompany her, curious to see for herself. Aicairis and Therindë, Vairë’s chief Máyar, came as well to escort their lady.

What precisely happened, Námo never learned. He had remained behind at Varda’s request to oversee a different project with his sister Nienna which involved determining the proper proportion of salt to water. There was some debate as to whether the oceans of Atháraphelun should be salty or not. Ulmo preferred the waters to be pure but Manwë had explained that such would not be possible given the parameters that were already in place with respect to the physics by which Eä was ruled. Ulmo had reluctantly agreed but insisted that life should be created that could survive in salt water. Nienna offered to help Ulmo determine just how much salt the oceans could contain that would allow life to flourish within them. So far the exact proportion had eluded them and in her frustration Nienna had asked Námo for help after Ulmo turned his attention to other tasks that were deemed more important.

Námo agreed to meet Nienna on a particular planet in their home galaxy shortly after Varda and Vairë left with their entourage. It was a modest world of landlocked seas. The planet orbited a yellow-white dwarf star and had four moonlets. He met her on the dayside where she stood beside the shore of one of the smaller seas. The lands were barren rock, for there was no fresh water anywhere. This world was a laboratory, nothing more, though Nienna had promised that once the needed information was discovered she would transform the planet into a more liveable one.

Nienna smiled as her brother approached. "I think I may have found the right formula," she said, "but I would appreciate you rechecking my figures before we start."

Námo nodded and in a space of time measured in nanoseconds she transferred her findings to her brother. "It looks sound, nésanya," he told her, "though you know I’m not the best mathematician..."

"Oh, tosh!" Nienna said dismissively. "You sell yourself short, pityaháno. You are as good a scientist as Aulë or Ulmo, although I admit your field of expertise seems somewhat... esoteric."

Námo grinned. Studying the black holes Varda had accidently created had started out as a hobby, like Aulë’s star-core collection or Vána stringing the stars in certain patterns. Varda had objected at first, but when Manwë insisted it was a harmless pastime and kept the child happy, she had relented, even going so far as to offer Vána some suggestions.

Námo’s own fascination with the light-sucking phenomenon of these black holes had led him to discover some interesting features of these ‘failures’, as Varda insisted on calling them. Manwë had encouraged him in his interest and now he was considered the leading expert on these singularities.

"Well, let’s see if this will work," Námo said. "Do you want to do the honors?"

Nienna nodded and with almost negligent ease brought life into existence, microscopic bacteria that Námo then took and mutated into amoebae. Slowly brother and sister encouraged the various mutations, speeding up the process at one point, keeping a watch for any failures. They were studying the results of the first appearance of algae when a psychic scream rent the fabric of the universe. Both Nienna and Námo started in shock.

"Vairë!"

Námo wasn’t even aware that he had screamed her name or that he had attempted to follow the psychic trail until he felt Nienna grabbing him and holding him in check.

"Wait, Námo!" she yelled.

"Vairë!" was all he could say, struggling in Nienna’s embrace. Then he felt Nienna ruthlessly encompass his mind and still him long enough to impart a set of coordinates and then they were gone....

****

Námo’s next conscious thought was chaos. He and Nienna emerged to find Ayanumuz and Máyar yelling at one another in panic. The sight seemed to settle him and he shrugged off Nienna’s embrace, standing there with implacable purpose.

"SILENCE!"

Such was the force of his command that all motion ceased and they all stared at him in surprise. He never noticed Nienna looking on with an expression of approval. When he knew that everyone’s attention was on him, Námo spoke again, his tone decisive.

"Where’s Varda?" he asked.

As if on cue, Varda appeared, along with Vána who was limply held in her embrace. Yavanna appeared almost at the same time holding up Cemendillë, her own chief Máya. Varda’s Máyar escort then appeared carrying three of their fellows. The sight of the injured seemed to unnerve them all, for chaos erupted once again and it was some time before order could be re-established. Through it all only Námo, Nienna and Varda remained bastions of calm. Vána, Cemendillë and the three other injured Máyar were quickly placed in the care of Irmo and Estë. Varda ordered an increase in the guard around them, then called for the remaining Ayanumuz to gather around her. Námo saw the haunted expressions on his fellow Ayanumuz and wondered if his own expression was equally haunted looking. There were only five of them, for Aulë and Ulmo were still absent. That left only Varda, Námo, Nienna, Yavanna and Nessa. Yavanna was too distraught over her sister to be much help.

"What happened?" Námo demanded of Varda.

She glowered at him, clearly annoyed. "What do you think happened, Námo? We were attacked by Melkor’s minions."

"And Vairë? Where’s Vairë?" he asked softly.

Varda’s posture slumped and her tone was more subdued when she answered him.

"They took her. Acairis..."

"What about Acairis?"

Now Varda’s expression was bleak. "She... she helped them to take her."

Námo felt Eä reel and turn sideways, barely aware that Nienna had taken hold of him.

"Acairis?" he whispered. "Acairis has betrayed us?"

Varda nodded grimly. "So it would seem."

There was something terribly wrong with that. Acairis had been deeply devoted to Vairë from the first, attentive to all her needs and gladly serving her. Yet, looking back, Námo realized that lately Vairë had been assigning many of Acairis’ duties to Therindë. Námo had not questioned it, for the ordering of their People was left to each of the Ayanumuz and none interfered. Had Vairë suspected Acairis then, in spite of her dismissal of Námo’s concerns? Yet, why had she not spoken of her suspicions to the others, to him?

There were no answers. Námo shook himself, focusing on the present moment. "Where’s Therindë?" he asked, suddenly realizing that the young Máya had not returned with the rest.

Yavanna stifled a sob. "She was taken as well, trying to protect her mistress."

Was that the answer — jealousy on the part of Acairis because Vairë had turned her attention to a ‘lesser’ Máya? Námo was reminded of his conversation with Melyanna. For Vairë to have begun assigning important duties to one younger in Atar’s Thought than Acairis must have been galling to her.

"So what are we going to do?" Nessa asked, anger tinging her normally golden-yellow aura with flickers of deep orange.

Before anyone could answer her, Aulë and Ulmo suddenly appeared, both looking grim.

"Where were you?" Varda demanded. "Why..."

"We were attacked," Ulmo said brusquely, cutting her off. "Some of Melkor’s people fell upon us almost at the same time we heard Vairë scream, otherwise we would have been there and perhaps..."

Námo interrupted. "It matters not at this point. What matters is that we get Vairë and Therindë back."

"I wish Manwë would return," Nessa said then and Námo privately agreed with her, wishing also for Oromë’s presence. If anyone could track down Vairë’s whereabouts it would be he. The thought of her and Therindë in Melkor’s hands....

He shook himself and turned his attention back to the discussion. Irmo had joined them and was giving them a report on the condition of the injured.

"They all suffered a shock but are recovering nicely," he said. Yavanna especially looked relieved and Aulë gathered her into his embrace and kissed her.

"We need to track down the kidnappers," Ulmo said.

"They could be anywhere," Nienna retorted in frustration.

"No. Not anywhere," Námo replied, thinking hard. "I think I know a way to find them." He wondered then if Atar had had more than one purpose in mind when he had given Námo this particular gift of calling the lost to him.

*No one is created for a single purpose, my child,* came the whisper of Ilúvatar’s thought, *and every gift bestowed is multi-faceted. It is for thee to discover their depths for thyself.*

Námo nodded to himself in acknowledgment of Atar’s words even as Varda asked for clarification. "A gift that I’ve discovered of late," Námo answered. He turned to Irmo. "It is how I found Melyanna when she went missing."

Irmo nodded his understanding. "Then you mean to rescue them," he said, giving his brother a shrewd look.

Námo nodded. "Yes, I mean to rescue them." His tone brooked no dissent and even Varda refrained from trying to dissuade him.

"Then I will accompany you," Irmo said bluntly.

"You?" Ulmo asked in surprise. "Why you?"

Irmo gave the older Ayanuz an amused look. "Someone has to keep Námo from doing something stupid."

In spite of the gravity of the situation, there was quiet laughter all around. Námo wanted to protest that he would never do anything stupid but feared that his younger brother knew him better than he did himself. He sighed, wondering if in the end he would indeed have to do something stupid to rescue Vairë and Therindë.

****

Mápaina: (Quenya) Taken, seized.

Kelvar: (Quenya) Animals.

Olvar: (Quenya) Plants.

Nésanya: (Quenya) My sister.

Pityaháno: (Quenya) Little Brother.

9: Rescue Run

Author's Note: While I have generally used quotation marks for dialogue even when it is likely that the Ayanumuz and Máyar are speaking via ósanwë, in this chapter I use quotation marks to indicate the speech of those characters who are incarnate, while asterisks are used to indicate the speech of those characters who are "unclothed" when there are incarnated beings and disincarnated beings together. This differentiation will continue as warranted in subsequent chapters.

Some of the scenes in this and in subsequent chapters are very dark and may prove disturbing to some readers. This is your only warning!

***

They did not start out immediately, much to Námo’s annoyance. Irmo refused to leave before he was satisfied that Vána, as well as the injured Máyar were out of danger. Thus, it was some time before they left, for there was also some discussion as to whether the two brothers should even go.

"You don’t have to do this," Ulmo told Námo and Irmo. "Vairë being taken rather than Varda or Yavanna or even Vána...." The older Ayanuz looked troubled. "Melkor wants you, Little Brother," he said bluntly to Námo. "That much is obvious. I don’t know why he is targeting you at this time, but I am full of foreboding."

Námo was shaken by Ulmo’s words, but he schooled himself to appear calm. "I know, brother. I do not know why he wants me, but I cannot stand idly by and allow him to do to Vairë or Therindë what he almost did to me."

"Manwë..."

"Manwë isn’t here," Námo interrupted Ulmo, speaking more brusquely than he had intended but refusing to back down. "I will not wait for him."

"Yet, he left you in charge with Varda," Aulë said, entering the conversation. "Will you desert your post?"

Námo looked at Aulë and then at Varda in dismay. "Will you forbid me?"

Varda gestured a denial, but it was Aulë who spoke. "We can neither forbid nor condone your plan, Námo. That is not in our purview. Manwë, however...."

The future Talca Marwa paused, looking uncomfortable. Námo’s aura darkened slightly at the thought of what the Eldest would say to him when he returned. What Ulmo and Aulë both said was true: he was deserting his responsibilities as Manwë’s lieutenant. Yet, could he honestly allow others to endanger themselves because Melkor was targeting him?

"At least take some of your Máyar with you," Ulmo suggested.

Námo was ready to protest, but Nienna intervened. "I think that would be wise, my brothers," she said, giving Námo and Irmo a stern look. Irmo nodded agreement, but Námo was still doubtful. Who would he choose to accompany them and would any of his People truly wish to join them in the hunt for Vairë and Therindë?

Just then Námo’s chief Máya, Maranwë, approached, along with Ingil, one of Irmo’s Máyar, and Ilinsor, one of Vairë’s Máyar. They all looked distraught. Maranwë bowed to the Ayanumuz, his demeanor one of nervousness, which was telling, for the Máya was known for his imperturbability.

"If it pleases you, my lord," he said then stopped, not sure if he should continue.

"What is it, Maranwë?" Námo asked gently.

The Máya glanced at his fellow Máyar before addressing his lord. "If it pleases you, my lord, we would like to join you and Lord Irmo in rescuing Lady Vairë and Therindë."

Námo looked upon the three Máyar in amazement. "Are you sure, my children? This will be extremely dangerous."

All three Máyar indicated assent. "We wish to help," Maranwë said simply.

Nienna’s aura brightened. "I think it’s an excellent idea, Námo," she said in a no-nonsense tone. "Maranwë, Ingil and Ilinsor will be a great help to you, I’m sure."

Námo glanced at Irmo who frowned and addressed Ilinsor. "You were injured in the attack, Ilinsor. I do not think you should come with us."

The Máya gave Irmo a stricken look. "Please, lord, I... I need to regain my honor."

Námo gave him a puzzled look. "Regain your honor? Why do you think you needs must do so?"

The Máya looked chagrined. "I... I failed my mistress, lord. I should have stopped Acairis, but her... her treachery was so.... I froze and now my lady is... is...."

Námo instinctively went to the distraught Máya and embraced him, holding him through his anguish, sending soothing thoughts until Ilinsor was calmer. Then, he spoke, his tone gentle and noncondemnatory. "You have no need to feel shame, Ilinsor. The attack and Acairis’ betrayal would have frozen any of us into indecision. Do not feel that you must do this to prove something to us or even to yourself. Join us because you wish to rescue your lady and Therindë and for no other reason."

"Yes, lord," Ilinsor said faintly, stepping back from Námo’s embrace, appearing more embarrassed at his breakdown than anything else. Maranwë and Ingil gathered their fellow Máya into their mutual embrace, giving him their support and love.

Irmo still looked doubtful, but finally shrugged. "If you wish to join us, Ilinsor, you may do so, but only if you promise to obey Lord Námo and me explicitly. You are not of our People and so we cannot command you to the same degree as your Lady can, but we need to know that you will follow our will in all things."

Ilinsor nodded. "I will, my lord. It was already decided among us, I mean those of us who have sworn fealty to Lady Vairë, that we would pledge our fealty to Lord Námo until such time as Lady Vairë is rescued. Th-that is, if you are willing to accept our oaths, lord." He gave Námo an uncertain, even fearful, look.

Námo was stunned and unable to speak for a moment. Then, he gathered himself and his aura brightened, indicating acceptance of Ilinsor's offer. "I will have thy fealty on behalf of thy fellow Máyar until such time as thy Lady is restored to thee," he said formally.

The aurae of all three Máyar brightened at Námo’s words and Ilinsor gave his obeisance to Námo and knelt before him. Just as he was about to offer his pledge, Eönwë appeared.

"I will act as witness, lord," he said with a bow to Námo, "so that all may know that this oath is freely offered and freely accepted for a term of time."

Námo gave his assent. "Thank you, Eönwë. I am sure Lord Manwë will appreciate that we observed all proprieties, for this is an unusual situation." Then he turned to Ilinsor. "I will hear thine oath, my child."

As Ilinsor began to speak, all the other Máyar belonging to Vairë appeared, also kneeling before the Ayanuz whom many already saw as their lord for their lady’s sake.

"I, Ilinsor of the Máyar, on behalf of myself and all those who have pledged themselves to Lady Vairë, do give oath that we will be obedient in all things to my Lord Námo until such time as my Lord releaseth us or our Lady redeemeth us. May Ilúvatar bear witness that we offer our services to my Lord of our own free will and with joy."

The other Máyar kneeling before Námo echoed the final part of Ilinsor’s oath.

Námo then spoke. "I, Námo of the Ayanumuz, do accept your oaths. As a father I shall be unto you, my children, and welcome you into my household until such time as I release you or your Lady redeemeth you. May Ilúvatar bear witness that I do full gladly accept your oaths and welcome you."

He then reached down and raised Ilinsor, giving him a kiss of liegelord to vassal, then, moving through the crowd of Máyar, he raised each one and gave them the same kiss, calling each by name. When he was finished, he turned to Nienna.

"Will you watch over them for me, sister?"

Nienna smiled. "Yes, brother. Estë and I will watch over your Máyar and Vairë’s. Now, go, bring our sister and faithful Therindë home."

Námo gave Varda a glance. She nodded. "You’re wasting time, Námo. Go. Go with the good wishes and prayers of us all. Nai le tulyuv’ ar varyuv’ Atar."

Námo then turned to Ilinsor. "Take us to where the attack occurred."

Ilinsor bowed and, sending the would-be rescuers the necessary coordinates, he, Ingil, Maranwë and the two Ayanumuz were gone, leaving all the others behind to hope and pray that all would go well with the rescue attempt.

****

The world was ringed, unusual for a non-gaseous planet, but exquisitely beautiful. The rings were visible even in the daytime, like a ghostly necklace scintillating in shades of blue and green in the pale rose sky, for the sun was just slipping below the horizon and the air was still warm. Námo glanced about. They were standing in the middle of a gently rolling meadow, verdant and fecund with wild grasses and small delicate flowers in every hue, though red and yellow seemed to predominate. A range of low hills surrounded the meadow on three sides but on the fourth they saw a lake, its waters burnishing in shades of emerald and amethyst as the sun sank behind it. A flutter of air caused Námo to turn in time to see a cloud of color rise and saw that there was a host of creatures with delicately painted wings. He gazed upon them with wonder and noticed Ilinsor smiling.

"Lady Yavanna calls them nermir," his newest Máya vassal said, "though Lady Vána tends to call them vanessi."

Entranced, Námo unconsciously became corporeal, though none of the others incarnated. He walked slowly towards the cloud of wings, stepping silently, barely bending the grass beneath his feet. As he approached the nermir he put out a hand as if to touch them though he stopped the motion before it was completed. Yet, it was just enough for the fluttering cloud to break apart. He sighed dispiritedly, regretting his action, and started to turn away, when all of a sudden he gasped in shock, standing perfectly still. Instead of dispersing into the slight evening breeze, the nermir regrouped around him, a halo of vermilion and saffron, ebony and plum. They floated above and about him and one even landed lightly on an outstretched hand. It was smaller than most of the creatures, with pale grey wings shading towards indigo with a splotch of yellow on each of the back wings. Its antennae were delicate and feathery and the feel of the creature on his hand sent a frisson of joy through Námo’s fëa.

"Námo."

The sound of Irmo calling his name shocked him out of his reverie and he looked up as the nermir all scattered. Irmo had incarnated, looking both amused and annoyed.

"Did you forget why we are here? You may come back and admire the... scenery some other time."

Námo felt his face redden, a sensation that was new to him, though he recognized it for what it was. "Sorry," he muttered and without another word disincarnated. He ignored Maranwë’s faint smile and Ilinsor’s surprised expression. Ingil merely nodded.

"I think they’re beautiful, too, lord," Irmo’s Máya said seriously, "and I look forward to coming back here to study them more closely when there is time."

Námo gave the Máya a grateful look. "Perhaps we can study them together," he said and Ingil bowed in acknowledgment.

Irmo turned to Ilinsor. "This is where the attack occurred?"

Ilinsor nodded and pointed towards the range of hills opposite from where the sun was setting. "Just there. Melkor’s people came from behind the hills and..."

"Wait," Námo demanded. "What do you mean, they came from behind the hills? Did they not simply emerge into the surrounding space?"

The Máya shook his head. "Nay, lord, they came upon us from the hills. We had all incarnated, you see."

"Why?" Irmo asked, clearly puzzled. Incarnating would have been unnecessary simply to observe the lifeforms on the planet.

Ilinsor shrugged. "Someone suggested it and we all sort of agreed."

Námo felt a glimmering of dark understanding at Ilinsor’s words. "Who suggested it, Ilinsor? Who suggested you all incarnate?"

Ilinsor stared at his new lord for a moment and then his usually calm green aura darkened towards indigo and he started shaking. "Ac-acairis..." he whispered.

Námo nodded though everyone else froze in surprise, including Irmo.

"And somehow she managed to alert Melkor," Námo said musingly. "I wonder if she had already arranged to betray Vairë and was just waiting for the right opportunity."

Ilinsor’s aura was tinged with crimson as he allowed himself to become angry. "She betrayed us," he exclaimed. "She has sullied our oaths to the Lady, oaths we spoke before Atar’s Throne. Now none will trust us, not even our Lady." This last was said with a note of despair.

Námo shook his head and gathered the distraught Máya into his embrace. "Listen to me very carefully, best beloved," he said, borrowing one of their Atar’s favorite terms of endearment for them. "Acairis has indeed betrayed her oaths, but only hers. Your lady will still welcome you and your brethren. Indeed, she will depend on you even more than before. And remember this," he stepped back to look at the Máya directly. "I have accepted your oaths. If I did not already trust you and your brethren I would not have done so."

Ilinsor still looked chagrined but he nodded. "Thank you, lord," he said softly.

"So the question remains," Irmo then said, "where did they go afterwards?"

"Did they disincarnate once they had their... prize?" Maranwë asked, grimacing on the last word.

Ilinsor shook his head. "I know not. I was fighting..." he paused and a spasm of psychic pain coursed through him, alerting Irmo, who took hold of him.

"What is it, child?" he asked with compassionate concern.

Ilinsor continued shaking, his thoughts a jumble of darkness and despair. "M-my brother," he finally whispered. "I was fighting my brother in... in Atar’s Thought."

They all looked upon the grieving Máya with compassion. Námo remembered Urushebeth. He had been one of the first of the Máyar to follow Melkor’s lead in the Song and had never wavered from his allegiance. It saddened the Ayanuz to see this worthy Máya standing before him looking so bereft and wondered if sometimes Manwë felt similarly with regards to his own brother in their Atar’s Thought. If Manwë ever grieved for Melkor, he did not show his grief to the others, unless it were to Varda alone.

"I am sorry, child," Námo said softly. "We all wish that Melkor had not rebelled against Atar and led so many of our brethren into folly, but it was their choice. There is naught any of us can do now."

Ilinsor nodded, gathering himself together. "Forgive me, lord," he said. "I did not mean to..."

"There is nothing to forgive, Ilinsor," Námo said gently. "Now, let us try to recreate the scene. I can sense several aurae here, many of them dark."

Irmo nodded. "As can I," he said. "Can you detect Vairë’s aura?"

Námo went still and opened himself up to what he had begun to think of as his Gift of Summoning, though he wasn’t sure why he called it that. So far he had used the gift more for seeking than for summoning. Whatever.... he sent his thoughts ranging back to the temporal coordinates of the attack and saw Acairis’ betrayal, the look of dark glee on her face as two of Melkor’s more fiery servants took hold of his beloved and her faithful Máya, Therindë. The suddenness of the attack and Acairis’ betrayal had prevented either Ayanuz or Máya from disincarnating and perhaps escape.

The attackers had indeed come over the low hills, yelling, and surprisingly, they retreated over the same hills rather than going incorporeal. That intrigued Námo. Returning to the present moment, he thought himself to the crest of one of the hills. He looked down upon a broad steppe that stretched into the far distance where mountains rose precipitously in granitic splendour. By now darkness had blanketed the land. Above him the rings glittered in pearlescent splendour, like so many emeralds and sapphires with the occasional diamond, casting an eerie, shimmering light across the heavens, giving them just enough light by which to see.

"Where did they go?" Irmo asked as he joined his brother. The Máyar congregated nearby, accepting that the two Ayanumuz would lead them now.

"They never left the planet," Námo said with certainty, staring hard across the plains towards the mountains. He pointed towards the looming bulk of darkness under the star-strewn sky. "They went towards those mountains."

"You are certain, brother?" Irmo asked.

Námo nodded.

"Then let us go and see what we will find there," the future Lord of Dreams and Desires said, motioning for the Máyar to join them.

They sent their thoughts ahead and shortly thereafter they were within the mountains. Námo brought them to a small dell nestled between two crags, using his gift to guide him. Melkor’s minions had brought Vairë and Therindë here. He could almost taste his beloved’s aura and the fear that lingered in the psychic aether. In spite of the fact that it was full night and only the stars and the rings gave any light, Námo had no trouble seeing the landscape. He pointed towards the wall of the mountain.

"There. That cave."

The others nodded, having seen what Námo had seen and now they moved cautiously, shutting themselves down psychically as much as possible, keeping only the thinnest thread of thought open between them. The cave proved to be a tunnel that wended its way into the heart of the mountain. Námo took the lead with the three Máyar following and Irmo taking up the rear position. The tunnel wound its way deeper into the mountain, a faint phosphorescent glow from the mosses growing on the rock walls giving them all the light they needed.

Drifting silently along, Námo followed the trace of Vairë that he sensed, the feelings of fear and anger mingling in the air. He could not understand why she had not been able to flee with Therindë. It should have been impossible for any of the Máyar to hold an Ayanuz against her will. Unless being incarnated they had been able to overwhelm her and somehow keep her in an incarnate state. Unclothed, Vairë would have been more than a match for any of the Máyar. None could have taken her... none, that is, except Melkor. Námo shivered involuntarily at that thought and hoped that his beloved and Therindë were unharmed, physically and psychically.

They passed through several caverns filled with stalactites and stalagmites and somewhere they heard an underground river. At one point Námo stopped them and sent a tendril of thought to his brother.

*I do not like this, Irmo,* he opined. *Where are Melkor’s guards? Why have we not been challenged yet?*

*A trap?* Irmo suggested. *We already know or at least suspect that Vairë was taken to lure you here.*

Námo grimaced to himself and nodded. *Vairë and Therindë are in the next cavern over.* He expanded his mind to encompass the Máyar as well. *Be careful.* he admonished them all. *This is a trap, but I mean to spring it without taking the bait.*

So saying, he continued on, approaching the entrance to the next cavern cautiously, keeping himself shut down completely on all electromagnetic frequencies, his aura going almost completely into the ultra-violet in an attempt to hide his presence. There was a faint light in the cavern and from it he could see both Vairë and Therindë. He felt himself going cold with anger. Both were still incarnate and had been bound with iron shackles to giant stalagmites. Vairë appeared unharmed otherwise. Indeed, she was busy trying to slip one of her hands through the cuff of the shackle holding it in place. Therindë, however, was obviously unconscious, the bruises and cuts on her fair hröa testimonies of her attempt to protect her mistress.

Námo stepped into the cavern, letting his aura shine forth.

*Vairë!* he thought to her and she turned in surprise.

"Námo! What are you doing here? It’s a trap. You must flee."

*Not until you and Therindë are free,* he said as he moved towards her. Irmo and their Máyar attendants entered the cavern. Irmo went directly to Therindë to check her condition, while the three Máyar took up guard positions around them.

Vairë, instead of looking grateful, was fuming. "You idiot! Don’t you realize what danger you are in?" Her tone was very scathing. "It’s you Melkor wants and you just waltz right in here. Do you really think he’s going to let you go now that he has you where he wants you?"

Námo stared at her in dismay, suddenly feeling foolish. Of course Melkor wanted him, but that wasn’t the point, was it? *I would think you would be happy to be rescued,* he said haughtily, now feeling angry himself, *but if you’d rather stay here and rot...*

Vairë gave him a disbelieving look but before she could utter a retort, Irmo interrupted. *These shackles are specially made,* he thought to them, pointing to one of the cuffs holding Therindë in place. *I do not understand how, but they are preventing them from unclothing themselves.*

Vairë answered him. "Melkor boasted that he has learned a secret of metallurgy that allows him to bind us in our hröa, though we must be corporeal before he can do so. That’s why... she convinced us all to incarnate." She spoke in disgust. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind who she was.

Námo nodded and with a single thought allowed himself to be clothed. "Then, we’ll have to find a way to release you," he said even as the others clothed themselves as well.

Vairë just stared at him. "Are you insane? That’s what Melkor wants! Leave now while you still may."

Námo shook his head, his expression grim. "No, beloved. I will not leave you and Therindë in his hands. Now stop complaining and help me figure out how to release you."

"That might be a little difficult," came a silky, sultry voice full of dark amusement, "as I have the only key."

Námo and the others turned to see Acairis coming towards them from the back of the cavern. She was incarnate, her hröa perfect, though Námo was surprised to see that she had chosen to clothe herself in flesh that was darker in shade than was usual for them, for both the Ayanumuz and Máyar tended to clothe themselves in flesh in imitation of the fair forms of the Firstborn to be. It was more olive in shade and, looking deeper, he saw how her usual emerald green aura had moved closer to the yellow frequency, and now looked a bit muddy. He suspected that her darker skin tone was perhaps an unconscious reflection of that inner change.

Her hair was a strikingly shiny black and fell about her like a mantle, reaching almost to her knees. Her expression was one of manic glee as she held up a single object. It was made of the same dark metal as the shackles and had an odd pattern of wedges at one end. Obviously, it was meant to be pushed into the locks holding the shackles together.

Námo gave the Máya a cool look. "Acairis."

"Námo," she answered with a disrespectful smirk. "How nice of you to drop by. My lord Melkor was beginning to despair that you would ever show up, but I had more faith in your... stupidity."

Námo forced himself not to react, either to Acairis’ barb or Vairë’s look of disgust. He didn’t want to guess if her expression was aimed at him or at her former Máya servant.

"Indeed," was all he said.

The Ayanuz’s cool manner seemed to throw the Máya off a bit but Acairis recovered herself quickly enough and her smirk deepened. "Yes. Now, be a good little Ayanuz and stand away from Vairë."

"Or what?" Námo asked, his tone darkening, taking a step towards Acairis, who took a hesitant step back.

"Do not threaten me, my lord!" the Máya demanded, making of the Ayanuz’s title a sneer. "Do you think I’m alone?"

"No, Acairis, I don’t," Námo said with a mirthless smile. "I’m not that stupid."

Just then, Therindë gave a slight moan and the sound, so unexpected, startled them and Acairis’ attention wavered. Before the Máya could react, Námo disincarnated, suddenly enveloping Acairis with his presence. Even though she was in hröa, the Ayanuz was able to hold her by the very power of his will, not only hold her physically, but also mentally, so that she could not call out for help.

*Now, brother,* Námo said and Irmo came to them and calmly plucked the key from the Máya’s frozen fingers, ignoring the look of hatred on her fair face. Without taking his eyes off Acairis, he threw the key to Ingil.

"Free them and get them out of here," Irmo ordered.

Ingil complied and soon he and the other Máyar had Vairë and Therindë free. Vairë shook off Ilinsor’s attempt to help her from her shackles once they were unlocked and with a vicious snarl approached Acairis who was still frozen in Námo’s embrace. With great deliberateness she slapped the Máya hard across her mouth.

No one moved. Even Námo was shocked by the action of his beloved, but he recovered more quickly than the others. *Get out of here Vairë and take Therindë with you. NOW.*

The force of his command was such that she complied, unclothing without protest and disappearing with the other four Máyar, for Therindë had regained consciousness enough to disincarnate.

That left Námo and Irmo with Acairis. Still unclothed, Námo spoke to Irmo. *Leave now, brother. I will be right behind you.*

"Námo..."

*No, Irmo,* Námo exerted some of his will towards his younger brother. *Leave now. I will be...*

But he never finished his thought for suddenly the air was full of Máyar, most of them spirits of dark fire. Námo was shocked enough to go corporeal without realizing he had done so. Immediately, his hold on Acairis was gone and he found himself surrounded by more Máyar than he could handle in his incarnate state and for some inexplicable reason he could not unclothe himself.

"Irmo, run!" he screamed, even as he was being overwhelmed by the Máyar. "RUN!"

Irmo had unclothed himself when the attack came, so he was not trapped as Námo had been. He was tempted to stay and help his brother but knew it was futile. With a sob he fled, but not before taking one of the shackles with him. Aulë would be interested in learning of its properties.

Námo continued to struggle against his assailants. Even clothed he was stronger and held more innate power than all of them together. He almost managed to throw them off... and then Melkor was there.

The First in Ilúvatar’s Thought went corporeal and picked up one of the discarded shackles. "Hold him tightly, my loves," he purred.

Acairis, still incarnate herself, grinned and threw herself on top of Námo and pinned him physically even as Melkor’s other Máyar servants continued to hold him psychically. Námo watched in despair as Melkor approached him, holding the shackle up for him to see.

"Did I not tell you that you belonged to me, Little One?" he whispered seductively as he knelt before Námo and wrapped one of the cuffs around his left wrist. Then the Dark Ayanuz bent over and gave Námo a kiss that sent a thrill of horror through the Ayanuz’s hröa.

Melkor straightened and smiled at the expression on Námo’s face, then with negligent ease he stood up, jerking Námo to his feet and dragging him to the same stalagmite to which Vairë had been bound, deftly binding Námo to it. Then he caressed Námo’s cheek with a single finger.

"Yes, Little One," he said. "You belong to me now."

"Never," Námo said between clenched teeth.

Melkor laughed and it was not pleasant to hear. "We’ll see, my love, we’ll see. I will leave you now to Acairis’ gentle mercies."

With that Melkor and the other Máyar in his train disappeared, leaving Námo alone with Acairis, who smirked at him, then, she leaned over and gently ran her tongue across his chest, sending ripples of dark pleasure through him. He gave an involuntary gasp as she reached up and pulled hard on his hair even as she continued her ministrations. Námo felt tears of pain gather in his eyes even as the physical sensations of pleasure coursed through him. Finally she stopped and stepped back, a satisfied look on her face.

"There now," she said with clinical lightness. "That wasn’t so bad, was it?" She leaned her hröa against his and, nuzzling his neck, murmured, "In time I think you will come to welcome my... advances and then you will forget all about that... that bitch."

"Never," Námo whispered, a sense of loathing stealing over him, yet he could not say if his feelings were directed more at her or at himself, so confused were the sensations which he was experiencing.

Acairis merely laughed, raking long fingernails across his chest, causing him to gasp again, though whether in pleasure or in pain he could not have said.

"We’ll see, my lord. We’ll see," the Máya whispered seductively and then she was gone, leaving Námo alone and bound.

****

Talca Marwa: (Quenya): Smith of the World, a title of Aulë.

Nai le tulyuv’ ar varyuv’ Atar: (Quenya) "May Atar guide and protect you".

Urushebeth: (Valarin) "Fire-Air" [uruš "fire" + šebeth "air"]. 

Note on Nermir and Vanessi: These are names for the butterfly. In other real-world languages the butterfly is often described by words denoting "soul", as in ancient Greek psyche, since butterflies are symbolic of souls, whether living, dying or dead. However, I have decided to borrow the plural forms of Tolkien’s words for "field-fay" and the noun "beauty", respectively. The latter word is reminiscent of one of the Russian words for butterfly, vanessa, which comes from the Greek Phanessa. Vanessa is the name of a genus of butterfly which includes the Red Admiral and the Painted Lady.

Note on Time: In previous chapters, I mention that the stars of the Milky Way shift 10 degrees (chapter 7) and 30 degrees (chapter 8). Taking the orbital period of our own solar system around the galactic center as the baseline (225 million years = 1 Cosmic Year), a 10-degree shift would be equal to 6,250,000 years, while a 30-degree shift would equal 18,750,000 years (225,000,000 divided by 360º = 625,000 years). For beings who are immortal, it is likely that at this point in their existence they measure time in Cosmic Years. So for the Ayanumuz, a 30-degree shift in the orbit of the stars would be equivalent to a "month" in our terms. To give a further perspective of Time, our solar system has orbited the galactic center twenty times since its creation.

10: Pá Morilattar

Námo found himself in distress without understanding why. The sensations of the hröa which he was experiencing were interesting in themselves, for he had never stayed incarnated for such a long time, but some of the sensations were annoying or downright embarrassing.

Like now, for instance.

There was a funny sensation at the end of the protuberance on his face that he recognized was how he breathed the atmosphere. ‘Nose’, if he remembered correctly, was the word that Aulë had coined for it, but now there was something wrong and he couldn’t reach it to find out what it was. All he knew was that the sensation was driving him crazy and, worse, he had no name for what he was feeling. Even as he was wrinkling his face trying to get rid of the sense of discomfort he wondered if the Children would experience the same thing and come up with a word for it. He hoped so. ‘Annoying sensation on the end of my nose’ didn’t quite work, but in his distress he couldn’t think of anything else to call it.

Then there was the silence. Somehow, the manacles that bound him and kept him in hröa also prevented him from using ósanwë to communicate with his fellow Ayanumuz. He had wondered why Vairë hadn’t just called to them when taken captive, and now he understood. He was alone in a way he had never experienced before, bereft of freedom and bereft of community. It was frightening. He tried to open himself to Atar but there was nothing there, just a blank emptiness in the center of his fëa where Atar had always been even when he wasn’t consciously aware of it.

He did not think anything could prevent him from speaking to Atar. The thought of Melkor having the power to cut him off from Atar made him quail. Despair engulfed him and he wondered how long it would be before Melkor would come and simply take what he wanted from him. He did not think he could resist for very long without Atar there to support him through his trials.

Acairis had left him some time ago and that was another thing. ‘Time’ seemed to have a different meaning to him while in hröa than it did when he was unclothed. He had never paid attention to the passing of time, though he was aware of it as stars flamed into existence and then flamed out again, planets lived and died and whole galaxies underwent evolutionary changes. Yet the passage of time as Eä knew it was an external thing, not touching him except as a referent to the approaching Time of the Children, the only event in Eä that actually interested the Ayanumuz. All else was mere Prologue, a setting up of the stage for the great Drama that was soon to unfold on Atháraphelun.

But now ‘time’ held a different meaning for him. ‘Time’ was measurable in a way he had never thought it could be: between one visit by Acairis and the next. He both dreaded and anticipated those visits — dreaded them for what she did to him, or tried to; anticipated them for the relief they offered him from his aloneness. Alone, he had too much time to think. When Acairis came, he was incapable of thinking about anything except staving off the dark ecstasy that threatened to engulf him when she attempted her seductions and cruel games involving pain and pleasure.

The last time — he had lost count which time it was, the third or maybe the fourth — she had done nothing more than climb on top of him, wrapping her legs around his torso and her arms around his neck and then began licking and nibbling on one of his ears, running her fingers through his blue-black hair. At first the sensation was annoying.

"Acairis, what are you doing?" he had asked in exasperation.

"Hush, my love," she had whispered, then continued her ministrations.

"I am not your love," he had stated emphatically, but she wasn’t paying any attention and soon, neither was he.

The annoyance became less so and had she stopped after a while he might have thought it was pleasurable, but she didn’t. She had continued, transferring her attention to the other ear. Now, the sensation of pleasure was increasing to a level that was truly painful. Námo had gritted his teeth and could feel his entire hröa tightening as wave after wave of pleasure and pain coursed through him. He had found himself panting, trying to draw enough air into his lungs. He had tried to think of something else, anything else, but to no avail. His mind was a blank. Not even the thought of Vairë seemed to help.

He had heard himself moan as the feeling of pain crescendoed and focused itself into a single exquisite point just below his diaphragm and then he had heard someone scream and was appalled to realize that it was he doing the screaming.

And above his screams he had heard Acairis’ dark laughter as she had climbed down from her perch. With a final flick of her tongue across his chest, she had faded from his sight. The look of satisfaction on her face had been thoroughly evil.

As the final wave of ecstasy had engulfed him, sending him into oblivion, his last thought had been a prayer.

*O Atar, where art thou?*

****

That had been the question that had greeted him upon his wakening, finding himself alone again. This time he almost welcomed it. He could feel his hröa weakening for some reason and was unsure why. He found it difficult to swallow now and his sight was blurry. He began to fall into a stupor, only to jerk awake when a single sound reached his ears.

He looked around, but saw no one. He frowned, trying to remember what he had heard. It had been a voice, he was sure, but he could not place it. He leaned his head against the stalagmite and closed his eyes again, falling back into a state of uncaring, wondering idly if anyone was planning a rescue or if they had forsaken him. Maybe they were just waiting for Manwë to return. He hoped it would be soon. He really wanted to disincarnate now and wondered how the Children would cope with always being in their hröa without escape except through death.

He opened his eyes, blinking stupidly. What was that word?

Death... he let it roll across his lips and through his mind. He knew about death, for it was all around him in the rise and fall of whole galaxies. The Ayanumuz had inhabited Eä long enough to witness the life cycles of stars and those of lower lifeforms that inhabited what few planets they had bothered to create that could sustain life. Yet...

The thought of the Children dying... he felt a shiver run through him. Atar had used a word for the Secondborn when he was describing Námo’s new gift. What had it been? He hadn’t really paid much attention, still trying to come to grips with his new-found ability.

Mortal... that was it, mortal. He experimented with the word in his mind, saying it over and over again and alternating that word with ‘death’. Yes, the Secondborn would die, but so would the Firstborn, or at least some of them. He had a sudden vision of a time so far into the future that there were no words to describe it. He saw himself standing in a hall of some kind and calling a name and there before him stood one of the Firstborn, but only in fëa, and there was a look of sheer terror on the Child’s face. Even as the vision faded, he wondered why seeing him had evoked such terror and was suddenly saddened.

He was distracted by something wet running down his face and spent several precious minutes wondering at this particular sensation. Truly, the hröa was a marvel and he could well understand why Manwë had cautioned them about staying too long in it. The sensations were too addictive, even, he realized with some chagrin, the pain.

Was that Melkor’s plan? Was he to be weakened in hröa to the extent that Acairis’ advances would be impossible to resist so that by the time Melkor was ready for him he would not be able to distinguish pain from pleasure and would welcome Melkor’s embrace because of it? A dark thrill rippled through him and he found himself suddenly squirming, trying to pull his hands through the manacles.

"You really shouldn’t do that."

Námo stopped and stared at Acairis who was sitting cross-legged on the stump of a nearby stalagmite, her chin in her hands, gazing at him dispassionately.

"Wh-why not?" he rasped, his voice so thin it was difficult to think of it as his voice. Acairis tsked and suddenly was standing next to him, offering him a cup of water from a clear cut-crystal goblet. He hesitated to accept but his hröa was in torment and he eagerly drank, feeling suddenly more alive than he had since being chained.

"Thank you," he whispered and meant it. She was evil but it didn’t mean he had to treat her with anything less than the respect with which he would treat any of the Máyar. He would not follow her down the black hole she had fallen into.

Acairis lifted a delicate eyebrow and smirked. "You’re welcome." Then she resumed her seat on the stump and gave him a quizzical look. "Tell me about the morilattar."

The request surprised him on one level, but somehow not another level. "What do you want to know?" he asked. He didn’t mind talking to her if it kept her otherwise occupied.

"Everything."

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "Everything?"

She nodded, her eyes dark with some kind of passion to which he could put no name. It frightened him, nonetheless. "I want to know everything there is to know about Varda’s mistakes. They are so fascinating."

For a long moment Námo merely stared at the fallen Máya and wondered. Was this interest in black holes something she had had all along or was it a product of her fallen state? He didn’t know and at this point didn’t care.

"They are a singularity of such extremely intense gravity that not even light can escape," he started to explain.

"Why?" the Máya asked with obvious interest.

Námo leaned his head against the stalagmite and closed his eyes, dredging up all that he had learned about these fascinating phenomena. "When a supernova remnant shrinks below a certain size, the extreme curvature of space seals off contact with the outside universe."

"So it is the extreme gravitational pull of the singularity that prevents everything including light from escaping," Acairis summarized, her voice sounding eager.

"Yes," Námo said with a nod. "And anything that comes within a certain radius of the singularity is pulled into it and cannot escape. I’ve called it the ‘event horizon’."

"And Varda had no idea she was making one, did she?" the Máya smirked.

Námo frowned. True, they had all laughed at the results of Varda trying to make a single large star to shine from the galactic centers of several galaxies, including their home galaxy and the Children’s galaxy, but it had really been a mistake and she had been so devastated by the results. As Námo recalled, Varda had gathered as much interstellar matter as she could find and then started compressing it to form the stars. Unfortunately, as the matter collapsed the gravitational attraction increased beyond anyone’s expectations and before she could stop it the matter disappeared into an emptiness that honestly appalled them, for the escape velocity exceeded the speed of light and suddenly nothing was there.

"It was a mistake," he said, seeking to defend the Elentári as some of the Máyar were beginning to call her. "She knows better now."

Acairis’ smirk deepened. "No doubt." She gave him a considering look. "Tell me about the event horizon."

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Why is there an event horizon?"

He shook his head. "I don’t know. I only know that all morilattar have them and some are very close to the singularity while others are further away. You can only detect the event horizon if matter is streaming into it, otherwise..."

"Otherwise, you could be sucked into one without warning," she said, nodding and looking thoughtful. "How interesting... something that sucks all electromagnetic radiation into itself and never lets it go."

Something about the way she said those words sent a frisson of dread through Námo’s hröa. Acairis must have noticed for she looked up and gave him a smile that never reached her eyes.

"Wouldn’t it be fun to venture past the event horizon of one of these morilattar?" she asked with glee.

Námo couldn’t help smiling. "Only if you’re interested in never returning to Eä," he said.

She got up from the stump and moved over to Námo, softly caressing his chest. He felt his hröa involuntarily tightening in anticipation of yet another session of pain and pleasure but Acairis merely looked up at him, her expression more serious than he had ever seen on her.

"There are morilattar, Námo," she whispered to him, "and then, there are morilattar. You are standing on the very edge of the event horizon of the one if not the other. Take care lest you step too much closer, for it you do, you will never escape even if... if the One, himself, rescues you from Melkor."

It was telling to Námo that the Máya did not refer to Eru as Atar any more. He was not sure what her words meant or even why she was issuing such a warning. Before he could formulate a question, though, she was gone, leaving him wondering, unaware that he was slowly sinking into the black hole of despair as hopelessness of his plight began to engulf him.

****

Pá Morilattar: (Quenya) "Concerning Black Holes".

Elentári: (Quenya) Queen of Stars, a title of Varda.

11: For Beauty Is Nothing But the Beginning of Terror

Námo jerked awake, sure he had heard someone call his name, but when he opened his eyes, there was no one there, at least so he thought. His mind felt fuzzy and he could not quite grasp what was happening or why. He blinked a few times, shaking his head, trying to clear his mind. Something had happened, but what it was....

"Feeling better, Little One?"

Námo felt his entire being shrink at the sound of that silky soft voice so near to him and then Melkor was there, smiling at him, though there was no warmth to it. He tried to understand the Fallen One’s words. Better? Why would he feel better? Better as opposed to what?

The confusion must have shown on his face, for Melkor tsked disapprovingly and shook his head in mock concern. "How soon we forget," he said with a malicious grin, "and here I thought you never forgot anything."

"Wh-what have I forgotten?" Námo asked, his voice raspy and he wondered at that. His throat was sore and it hurt to swallow. His mind was clouded and he felt a sense of dread rising within him. What had he forgotten?

Melkor tsked again and held out a hand, lightly touching Námo’s forehead. "Let me help you to remember, Little One."

At first there was nothing and then an image formed in his mind, an image of himself with Melkor and one of Melkor’s Máyar, a spirit of fire, dark and consuming. The First in Ilúvatar's Thought gestured to his servant and the Máya moved towards Námo, and it was then that Námo noticed the whip of flame in the Máya’s hand. The Máya raised the whip and....

Námo started screaming as the memory bloomed full-blown in his mind and he felt his hröa retching, convulsing against the chains that held him in place against the stalagmite. With a single thought, Melkor released his bonds and in spite of Námo’s attempts to escape his embrace, he cradled the younger Ayanuz against him.

"Shhh. Now, now, Little One," Melkor whispered, his voice dark with a desire that was nameless even to him, but Námo responded to it with a shudder and fell to weeping as Melkor continued to hold him, stroking him. "Hush now," he crooned. "There’s no need for tears, my love. It’s over with and now it’s just the two of us. Shhh."

Námo continued weeping, cradled in Melkor’s arms, unable to stop and hating himself as he clutched desperately at his tormentor, sick at the thought that he could even want to seek comfort from him, yet the terror he was feeling allowed him no other choice. After a while, though, his weeping stilled. It dawned on him that he was no longer bound, though he was too weak even to think of disincarnating. Indeed, he suspected that if he even tried Melkor would simply disincarnate as well and overpower him. That thought kept him where he was, his head nestled in the crook of Melkor’s arm while the Fallen One continued to rock him gently.

"Are you ready to give me what I want?" Melkor asked, leaning down and planting a kiss on Námo’s cheek.

Námo shuddered and instinctively shied away from the kiss but he only found himself nestling deeper into Melkor’s embrace and that sickened him even more. "Wh-what do you want?" he whispered, soul-weary to the point of not caring anymore.

"I want you to tell me the truth."

"About what?" Námo asked, feeling confused.

"About the real purpose of those two star-beacons," Melkor answered.

"Star beacons? Why..."

Melkor drew back his hand and with a swift motion slapped Námo in the face, the sting of it shocking the younger Ayannuz to stunned silence.

"No, best beloved," Melkor said, and the use of Atar’s name for him on the Fallen One’s lips made Námo’s skin crawl. "I will not tolerate lies or prevarications from you. I want the truth... or I will send for Rushurithir again and this time I won’t stop him, even if you beg me to."

The threat was not idle and Námo swallowed and cringed mentally at the image Melkor’s words evoked within his mind. He had indeed begged this last time and that memory seared his fëa. He had begged for the Máya to stop and Melkor had granted his wish, but not immediately. The sense of humiliation at what Melkor had made him do before he ordered Rushurithir to stop burned within him and he wanted to be sick again.

"Now, if you tell me what the real purpose of the star-beacons are, I may eventually release you completely from these bonds." Melkor held up the chain which had held Námo against the stalagmite. "Oh, not immediately, of course." Melkor smiled down at his captive and the beauty of it caught Námo unawares. As Melkor continued to stroke him gently and give him a kiss, this time on the lips, Námo could feel the terror rising within him again.

"I will first have to make sure you are a good little Ayanuz and obedient to my will. Acairis can teach you how to obey me. She’s very good at that sort of thing, aren’t you my dear?"

Even as he spoke, Acairis appeared, giving Námo a look of scornful pity. Melkor gestured to her and she came willingly into his one-armed embrace while he continued to cradle Námo in the other. Námo watched in fascinated horror as Melkor ran his hand across Acairis’ hröa and the way the Máya responded to the Ayanuz’s touch. Yet, even as Acairis arched her back in obvious pleasure, Námo saw the look of pure hatred the Máya cast at Melkor and he wondered at that.

Melkor, though, did not see, his attention fully on the Ayanuz nestled in his other arm. "Yes, Acairis will teach you how to obey me and I promise you, you will want to obey me. The consequences otherwise will not be pleasant for you. Remember Rushurithir and what I forced you to do before I ordered him to stop... playing." Melkor smiled again and now there was nothing beautiful about it.

Námo found himself whimpering and cringed at the memory of just what it was Melkor had made him do before relenting and ordering the fiery Máya to stop.

"I will leave you to think about what I’ve said, Little One," Melkor said, releasing Acairis from his ministrations as he lifted Námo up and brought him back to the stalagmite, "but not for long. When I return, I want answers. For now, it’s time to put you back in your chains..."

Námo started struggling. "No! No, please... don’t... please...." He started weeping again, unable to stop the terror from overwhelming him at the thought of being chained again.

Yet, even as Melkor took hold of one end of the chain to attach it to Námo’s wrist, a most remarkable thing occurred.

At first, Námo, in his terror could not fathom what was happening, then he heard Acairis cry out and Melkor utter a curse as a cloud of color swept into the cavern. Melkor dropped the chain and began swatting the air as hundreds and hundreds of the winged beauties that had so enchanted Námo earlier flew all around Melkor and Acairis. Then, in the midst of the nermir several beings appeared.

Námo had a confused view of Manwë, Irmo and Oromë suddenly standing there. Manwë advanced upon Melkor while Oromë and Irmo kept Acairis at bay. Suddenly other Máyar holding swords of light appeared even as Melkor screamed in frustration and in a single thought disincarnated before Manwë could take him. Acairis gave a hiss of hatred and followed her master, leaving the cavern to Manwë and his people.

Irmo turned towards Námo, shocked at what he saw. "What did he do to you, my brother?" he cried as he reached out to give Námo comfort.

Námo, however, was not listening. In the confusion of his mind he knew only one thing: he was free, the manacles no longer binding him to his hröa. All that mattered now was that he escape while he could and hide where Melkor would never find him, ever. The nermir floated around him and their beauty brought him to a different state of terror which the Children would one day describe as ‘awe’. It swept all reason from his mind. With a single thought, uncaring that his family had come to his rescue, he shifted form, not into a disincarnated state, but rather to become one of the nermir now streaking out of the cavern. The rescuers watched in disbelief as the object of their rescue disappeared, becoming a creature of velvet black wings with grey and purple streaks.

"Námo, come back!" Irmo screamed as his brother disappeared with the rest of the ethereal creatures they had used as a distraction in their attempt to free the captive Ayanuz.

****

Námo flew with the other nermir, reveling in freedom as he had never experienced it. He flew with no thought of ever returning to his natural state. He was safe now, hidden in the Song that had embodied itself in wings, and he joined in the ecstasy of their dance across meads and dells as sunlight warmed his wings and his fëa. It mattered not where they went, so long as it was away... away from terror, away from pain... away from... from everything.

Yes, that was it... he needed to get away from everything. Go where Melkor could not find him. He cast his mind across the heavens in search of a haven from all that he had experienced. Atar had abandoned him. Even now, freed from his bonds, both physical and psychical, he could not hear his Atar, though admittedly he did not call out to him. Shame and fear and loathing flooded his being and he did not want his Atar to see him in this state. Best to hide, hide from everything and everyone. Maybe one day he would heal enough to come out of hiding, though he did not think it would be any time soon.

He paused in his flight as he sought for a haven. His fëa yearned for a place of peace and calm, a balm to his soul. His thoughts suddenly lighted upon an image of the water-meads of the Timeless Halls and even in his current incarnated form he wept at the loss of all he had once had.

"O Atar, help me!" he cried silently, not even aware he was reaching out to the only one who could truly give him the comfort and solace he craved. He slowly dissolved his incarnate form, leaving the nermir to wing their silent way across a flower-strewn meadow. Then, he heard a Voice deep within him, echoing through the halls of Eä like thunder on a cloudless day.

*Come!* It commanded.

Darkness, aware and fecund, opened before him and he quailed at the sight.

*Come!* the Voice repeated.

This time, without hesitation, he obeyed. In an act of blind estel he flung his fëa into the waiting Abyss and was lost to all knowledge of his whereabouts by those still searching for him.

****

Rushurithir: (Valarin) Fire-light.

Note: The title of this chapter comes from the first part of Rainer Maria Rilke’s poem Duino Elegies: The First Elegy:

Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels’
hierarchies? and even if one of them pressed me
suddenly against his heart: I would be consumed
in that overwhelming existence. For beauty is nothing
but the beginning of terror, which we still are just able to endure,
and we are so awed because it serenely disdains
to annihilate us. Every angel is terrifying.

12: Finding Námo

Námo was resting, floating serenely in a Void that was not empty, but was gravid with potentiality. It was rather like being held in someone’s arms. He frowned, or rather, his aura darkened to a shade that would in his incarnate form manifest itself as a frown. He seemed to remember being in someone’s arms before, but the memory was elusive and it did not evoke any feelings of safety. He felt safe now. Safe from what, he could not have said at that point, only that he was safe....

And the Nothingness which held him agreed.

He sighed and snuggled deeper into Love’s embrace, unaware that that was where he was.

****

"Where is he? Where has he gone?" Irmo cried.

The would-be rescuers were in the cavern where Námo had been held, still staring in disbelief after the cloud of color that had disappeared with one of their own.

Irmo’s cry shook Manwë out of his shock — and if he were truthful — his anger, anger at Melkor, anger at Námo, but most of all, anger at himself. He sighed, shaking his head. "Come, there is nothing more we can do here."

The Máyar thought themselves home immediately. Oromë had to physically take Irmo in his embrace to prevent him from running after the nermir. The future Lord of Lórien protested, exclaiming that he wanted to stay and look for his brother, but Manwë gently, yet insistently, overruled him.

"Your brother is no longer on this planet, Irmo," Manwë said compassionately. "He has fled."

"Back home?" the younger Ayanuz asked hopefully and he cast his own mind out to touch the familiar electromagnetic signature that meant ‘brother’ to him, but nowhere could he feel Námo’s presence.

Manwë shook his head. "Nay, my son. He has not returned home. He is nowhere in Eä that I can detect."

That frightened Irmo and his hröa was visibly shaking in shock at the realization that what Manwë had just said was true. He could not find Námo anywhere. He looked up at the Eldest, his expression full of confusion and fear. "Wh-where is he? O Atar! where is my brother?"

Irmo started weeping and was unaware when both Manwë and Oromë embraced him and between them helped the younger Ayanuz to unclothe before they set off for home.

****

Námo became aware again, but could not find the will to take in his surroundings. He felt starlight on his fëa, soothing, warming, replenishing his depleted store of energy and cleansing him. The stars sang joyously of Life and Self-sacrifice, for they gave of themselves unstintingly, that life might bloom within Eä like flowers in springtide. Námo listened for a while, unaware that he was humming along with the stars’ singing. Then he gave a mental sigh, curled up into himself, still cradled in the Sea of Love, and went back to sleep, content.

****

The remaining seven Máhanumaz gathered on the planet where they had first named themselves to discuss what had happened. Irmo was with them, still distraught and unwilling to listen to reason.

"I have to go after him," he protested. "I have to help my brother."

"Where will you go?" Manwë asked in a reasonable tone. "Where will you look?"

"He has to be in Eä," Irmo stated firmly. "There’s nowhere else for him to go. The Timeless Halls are closed to us."

The others nodded in agreement, then Aulë spoke. "You are correct, Irmo. Námo is still within Eä, but somehow he’s found a way to... to hide himself, so none can detect his presence."

"He’s hiding from Melkor," Nienna said, her expression almost murderous at the thought of what Melkor had done to her brother.

"But why is he hiding from us?" Irmo asked plaintively, confused by it all.

Manwë shook his head. "I don’t think he’s purposely hiding from us, my son," he whom the Children would one day call the Elder King said. "I think he’s hiding more from himself."

Irmo shook his head, not sure what Manwë was saying and then he went still, a glimmering of a thought teasing his mind. "Hiding from himself... or Atar?"

There was a collective gasp and they all stood in somber silence at the implications of those words.

Where are you, brother? Irmo cried out in the silence of his fëa, feeling bereft of all comfort. Please come out of hiding. Let us who love you help you. Please, Atar, help us find my brother.

Irmo was unaware that all the others were sending their own prayers winging through the halls of Eä to the One who heard their pleas and smiled indulgently, even as He continued to hold the object of their concern in His embrace and crooned a lullaby that was echoed by Varda’s stars.

****

Námo came to himself with the lullaby echoing within him and looked about him with interest and frowned. Where was he?

All about him swirled the stars. He was in the midst of a globular cluster overlooking a galaxy. He checked the coordinates and gasped in surprise. This was the Children’s galaxy! But how?

He scanned the surrounding space. There was no sign of the others, anywhere. He hesitated to call out, afraid...

Why was he afraid?

Something dark clouded his memories and he shrank from its touch. He was unaware that he was whimpering as he fled into the heart of a nearby red giant and clung to its core. The gentle pulsing of the nuclear reaction soothed him and then he felt something stroke him reassuringly. With a sigh he curled himself around the core and fell back to sleep. The star, which was nearly depleted of its energy, heated itself up a bit more to give the Ayanuz additional comfort, joyful that its final outpouring of energy was for this lost one’s benefit.

Námo was unaware of the star’s final death throes as he dreamlessly slept on.

****

Manwë stood in the field where his beloved and her party had been attacked. It was peaceful now. The sunlight gleamed through high pink clouds while the ghostly reflection of the rings shimmered in the dark waters of the nearby lake. Flowers of every shade and hue swayed in the gentle breeze. The nermir that had so enchanted Námo flitted about in pairs or singly, going from one blossom to another in a lazy pattern of disdainful beauty, unaware or uncaring that their creators were watching.

Irmo was there, along with Oromë and Vairë. Manwë hid a smile at the sight of her. She was... ‘furious’ was too mild a word for what she was obviously feeling. Manwë sent a private thought to Aulë, who was helping to stand watch over the Children’s galaxy, asking for a suitable phrase to describe Vairë’s mental state. The future Smith of Arda was rather good at coining new words.

*Outraged?* he heard Aulë suggest. *Er... no... um... incensed... rampageous... uh... demented... oh, I know!... how about ‘royally pissed off’?"

Manwë watched Vairë fume and glower, muttering viciously to herself, obviously impatient to be doing something, anything, to bring her beloved back to them, and smiled, nodding. *Works for me,* he thought to Aulë and the Worldsmith laughed.

Manwë sighed to himself. Unfortunately, they were still at a loss as to how to proceed. Oromë stood somewhat apart from the group. At a distance, surrounding them, were a contingent of guardian Máyar, swords of light in their hands. No one was clothed. Manwë had made that clear: they were not going to take any chances that way, not with Melkor still loose.

"Anything?" Manwë asked.

Oromë shook his head. "He came here and then... it just stops. I don’t understand."

"Neither do I," Manwë said reflectively. "I have every confidence, though, that we will discover the truth of it in time. Meanwhile, let us continue to search. If he is unable to flee to the Timeless Halls and he’s nowhere in Eä, the only other place where he could conceivably go is Cúma."

"He would not go there," Irmo said forcibly. "My brother did not like lingering near the borders of Eä. Cúma would not be where he would flee even instinctively."

"What if he did not consciously flee anywhere?" Vairë asked, calming just enough to enter the conversation.

"What do you mean?" Manwë asked her, his expression one of mild interest. Perhaps Vairë had an insight into Námo’s character that was unknown to even his own brother and sister.

"What if he had help?" she responded, looking more perplexed than anything, as if the words she had just uttered did not make complete sense to her.

"Help?" Irmo asked. "Help from whom?"

It was a moment before Manwë was able to supply the answer, but when he did, no one questioned it.

"Atar," he said at last, nearly whispering. "Atar helped him."

They stood around in silence, trying to absorb the implications of the revelation. Finally, Vairë sighed, now looking exasperated. "If Atar is hiding him, we have no hope of finding him. We’ll have to wait until Atar reveals Námo’s whereabouts to us."

Irmo reluctantly agreed with her, but Manwë was dissatisfied. He turned to Oromë. "Keep searching. If Atar did indeed help Námo to flee, he still may have left clues for us to find."

Oromë nodded and set out to follow Námo’s electromagnetic signature, scanning the extra dimensions in case the Ayanuz had hid himself there. The others, including Vairë, stood silently by, hoping against hope, that they would be able to find Námo.

Before it’s too late, Vairë thought to herself. Too late for what, she could not say, and refused to contemplate the possibilities. 

****

When he woke again, Námo found himself floating amidst an ocean of ionized gases and wondered what had happened to his star. The gases were backlit by a slowly rotating neutron star. Clouds of bright orange, deep red and sulfur yellow billowed about him, blown about by interstellar winds. It was absolutely stunning and Námo spent some time merely gazing at the colors, which reminded him of something but just what that was he could not say. He sighed and started to roll over and fall asleep again when a Voice echoed through him.

*Feeling better, best beloved?*

The Voice was full of warmth and love, but all Námo knew at that moment was sheer terror as memory of the last time he had heard someone say those words to him came crashing to the fore.

He screamed and tried to flee, but something held him down with inexorable intent, allowing him to thrash and scream to his heart’s content until exhaustion took over and his thrashings stilled along with the screaming. For some time that was measurable in the half-life of decaying radioactive particles, he simply lay there, floating, waiting, and not caring that he waited.

Eventually, the Voice spoke again, softly. *Námo, open thine eyes, Child.*

At first Námo did not understand the words. He had no eyes to open in his natural form. While he remained conscious he saw all about him. Only a conscious intent to close off his sensory input allowed him not to see, or hear or experience any other sense. He was awake at this time, his eyes were never closed.

*Not those eyes, Child,* the Voice chided gently. *Open thy mind, Námo. Thou'st kept it closed for far too long. Time to wake up.*

Then Námo understood and quailed. If he opened himself up that way Melkor would find him again. No. Best to remain hidden and safe, whatever the Voice said to the contrary.

*As long as thou'rt with me, Námo,* the Voice said with grave authority, *thou wilt be safe. No one will find thee unless thou dost will it so. Be at peace, my beloved, and open thyself again.*

Several stars in the vicinity flamed in and out of existence before Námo made a cautious move and let a small part of himself open up into full communion with Eä and all that was within it. It was a mere chink of an opening, but it was enough to let in Atar’s Love and Námo found himself weeping again, but this time not in terror.

*That’s it, Child,* Atar said. *All is well, now. There’s no need for tears. Atar has thee.*

"I’m sorryimsorryim...."

*Hush now,* Atar said soothingly. *I’m not angry at thee, Námo. Be at peace.*

"B-but thou dost not know wh-what he...what he made me do," he whispered forlornly and was shocked to hear Atar’s quiet laughter echoing within him.

*Do I not? Why sayest thou that, Child?*

"Be-because you weren’t there!" Námo protested while looking around for a star to hide in. He wanted desperately to wrap himself around a star core. They always seemed to make him feel better when he did, their pulsing soothing him. "Melkor did something... I couldn’t feel thee."

Ah! there was a nice little yellow dwarf only a few degrees west of galactic north. Maybe....

*Námo,* Atar gently chided him, *stop looking about at the stars and pay attention.*

Námo went still, suddenly embarrassed. "Yes, Atar," he whispered.

*That’s better... Child, Melkor did nothing... it was thou who closed thyself off to me. I was always there waiting for thee.*

Námo shook himself in denial. "B-but I... I couldn’t sense thee! I called out and..."

*Didst thou, or didst thou merely think so?*

Now Námo went still for a different reason, trying to fathom what Atar was telling him. He dredged up the memories, quailing slightly at some of them. He felt something warm stealing over him and realized Atar was holding him up, encouraging him to face the memories and accept them. The sick terror he had begun to feel faded somewhat and he continued his self-examination, coming to the conclusion that he had deluded himself into thinking Atar had abandoned him.

"Because that’s what I would’ve done if I were thee," he said aloud, feeling ashamed.

*Then it’s a good thing that thou'rt not, is it not, Child?* came the surprising response and for a moment Námo was unsure how to respond, but the underlying sense of humor in Atar’s tone clued him in and he found himself chuckling and then laughing outright at the absurdity of it all.

*That’s better,* Atar said and the smile in his words was tangible, making Námo feel warm all over and loved.

He sighed, allowing himself to sink into his Atar’s embrace. For a time he merely floated, reveling in the feeling of being held by Love, but the feeling of security did not last. The memories that he had been blocking from himself were slowly seeping into his consciousness and shame and revulsion began to engulf him. Suddenly, he yanked himself from the embrace and started to flee, though where he thought he would go was questionable. Atar, however, had other ideas and tightened the embrace, refusing to let this Child of his go.

"No.... no....," Námo protested weakly, struggling to break out of Atar’s embrace. "Please, Atar, don't...don’t touch me... thou dost not know... I’m not...."

*Shhh, Námo,* Atar crooned. *Thou hast done nothing wrong, Child. Whatever hath happened, know that thou hast not lost my love. Nothing can do that. Be at peace, best beloved. All is well between thee and me.*

Námo sighed and stopped resisting, allowing his Atar to continue holding him. Atar was crooning a lullaby, the one he remembered hearing even as he had slept, the one the stars had sung to him as he lay cradled in his Atar’s embrace though he had not known it. Without conscious thought he began humming along. Soon he was drifting off to sleep again, the lullaby covering his fëa like a warm blanket.

****

"I’ve checked all the other dimensions, Manwë, and nothing," Oromë said, his frustration plain, "not even a trace."

"That makes no sense!" Irmo complained.

"Hush, Irmo," Manwë retorted mildly, "let me think."

The younger Ayanuz subsided, though he could feel the frustration within him building. He idly noticed that Vairë had wandered off a bit, gazing intently at the nermir flitting about. Oromë, waiting patiently for Manwë to speak, gave him an encouraging smile. Irmo felt himself relaxing somewhat and nodded his thanks.

"What about the nermir?" Vairë suddenly asked. "Would they know where Námo went?"

Irmo was ready to scoff at such an absurd idea but stopped when he saw Manwë giving Vairë a considering look.

"An excellent idea, my dear," the Eldest said. "And since you thought of it, you may have the honor of calling them to us so we may ask."

Vairë nodded, looking pleased and in minutes they were all surrounded by a cloud of the winged creatures. Manwë allowed himself to be clothed and one of the nermir landed lightly upon his upraised palm.

"Now, little one," Manwë whispered, "we’re looking for one who is lost. Perhaps you and your fellows can help us find him."

They waited as the Song in velvet-winged form considered the Chief Ayanuz’s request.

****

"Where are the others, Atar?" Námo asked.

He had woken at some point and was now sitting on a rock spinning above a dead planet that orbited an orange star. He was idly swirling the dust that covered the moon with his mind in a random pattern. He did not know how often he woke and slept, only that with each waking he felt stronger and stayed awake longer. He was able to face the memory of his captivity with equanimity now, no longer trying to flee from it. He still burned with shame and remorse at times, but those feelings were dimming and he was learning to accept what had happened without blaming himself. It had taken time and much patience on Atar’s part (or so Námo suspected), and he thought he still had some healing left to do, but he was well on the road to recovery.

Now he was taking more interest in his surroundings and wondering why his family had not yet found him.

*Oh, they are around,* came the amused reply.

"Atar!" Námo protested. "That’s not an answer."

Laughter rang through the halls of Eä and Námo felt warm and merry at the sound of it. *But that is the only answer I will give thee. It is for thee to discover for thyself where thy brothers and sisters are.*

Námo sighed, feeling frustrated, but decided it wasn’t worth pursuing. Instead, he had another, quite different, question. "Why can I not detect any lifeforms on any of the planets? There, that yellow-white star in the inner arm," he said as he pointed towards the Children’s galaxy, automatically naming the coordinates to himself. "There is burgeoning life on the fourth planet out. The seas should be teeming with it yet I sense nothing. It’s as if..."

*As if what, Child?*

Námo shrugged. "It’s almost as if this is the Eä of our Vision, before we came here and discovered a wasteland."

He felt silent agreement from his Atar and the sense of encouragement to continue his thoughts. "This is Eä, but not?"

*This is Eä as thou and thy brethren have created it, but only in its potentiality, not in its fulfillment. That will not come about until the end.*

Námo considered what his Atar was saying and sat in contemplation for some time. Then, in a blinding flash of insight he suddenly realized where he was. "But how?" he asked. "How did I get here?"

*I brought thee here, Child.*

Námo sighed. "I know that, Atar," he replied somewhat shortly, the exasperation he was beginning to feel coming to the fore. "What I want to know is..."

Now Námo felt his Atar smiling at him. A sense of warmth spread through him as he felt Atar rock him. *Námo, Námo. Thou'rt such a delight! But no more questions will I answer. It’s time to sleep again, my Child."

"I’m not sleepy, Atar. In fact..."

But whatever he was going to say went unsaid as he heard Atar sing the same lullaby he had heard off and on since first awaking and he suddenly felt himself growing sleepy again. Before he could formulate another thought he was drifting away. The stars picked up the descant and harmonized the song the Creator was singing as Námo continued to sleep.

****

"Námo."

Námo curled up some more, unwilling to come fully awake.

"Námo, wake up, brother."

"Hmmm. Dohnwanna."

Now there was gentle laughter and Námo slowly began to sense that this was not Atar speaking to him. He came fully awake and found himself surrounded by Irmo, Oromë, Manwë and Vairë. They were smiling down at him. It had been Irmo who had spoken to him.

"Hullo," he said simply, looking at Manwë. "I think I found the tenth dimension."

****

Cúma: (Quenya) The Void; that which is outside Eä.

13: Playing in the Tenth Dimension

Námo stood up to face the other four Ayanumuz, seeming somewhat chagrined. He did not look at any of them directly. It took a moment for him to even realize that he and they were incarnate and he was no longer on the moonlet where he had fallen asleep, but on a planet that orbited a white star. That did not surprise him, for he often found himself waking somewhere other than where he had fallen asleep. He did not know why that was, he simply accepted it. Yet, always before he had awakened unclothed. He frowned slightly, trying to remember when he had clothed himself, but finally decided that he must have done so unconsciously while sleeping... or maybe Atar....

"Are you well, Námo?" Manwë finally asked, a look of concern on his face.

Námo, still not looking up, merely shrugged.

"I’m sorry it took so long to find you," Manwë said.

"How did you find me?" Námo whispered, his eyes continuing to stare at the ground. The planet orbited its primary far enough out that it could actually sustain life, though at this stage of its existence that was little more than moss and grasses. Námo noticed that he had been sleeping on a low mound of yellow grass that was only beginning to lose the outline of his hröa as it sprang back to its original position.

"A little nermi told us," Irmo said with a chuckle.

That made Námo look up in surprise. "What..."

"Never mind, brother," Irmo said, smiling, "we’ll tell you later. Let’s go home." He made to take Námo’s hand but his brother shied from him without thinking.

"Námo?" Manwë asked with a slight frown, also reaching for the younger Ayanuz. "It’s all right, son. All is well."

But Námo wasn’t listening. Some inchoate terror gripped him at that moment and he simply unclothed himself and, with a single thought, fled.

"Námo! You come back here this instant!" Vairë fairly screamed, frustration lacing her aura so that her normal green-blue frequency was now shifting definitely towards the yellow spectrum.

Oromë sighed, giving Manwë a wry grin. "Here we go again."

If Manwë felt frustrated he did not reveal it to the others. His own deep blue aura remained steady as he made a decision. "Irmo, go back to the others and show them the way here, but do not let any of the Máyar know of this."

"But I want to go after Námo!" Irmo protested.

Manwë shook his head. "We will go after him. I need you to bring the others here."

"But Námo is my brother! I should be the one to go after him." His own aura, usually a beautiful tranquil indigo, now was flickering unsteadily towards the red-orange frequency, indicating anger, frustration, and even dismay at the turn of events.

Manwë sighed. "Irmo, do not dispute me in this. Oromë can more easily find him than even you can, though you are closer to him in thought than any of us, and I need Vairë as a... a lure."

They all gave Manwë looks of disbelief, Vairë especially, and the Eldest smiled somewhat grimly. "Not in the way you are thinking, children. I will explain later. For now, I need you to bring the others here. Remember," he admonished the younger Ayanuz, "none of the Máyar are to know of this as yet."

Irmo still looked rebellious but in the end he sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Yes, Eldest," he muttered before unclothing himself and thinking his way past the chink in the space-time fabric that had allowed them to enter the tenth dimension. It had been so obvious when they were shown the way that they all wondered that they hadn’t found it earlier.

"I think Atar was waiting until one of us absolutely needed to come here before allowing us to find it," Manwë had said as they had traversed the dimensional fields in search of Námo. The others had had no choice but to agree with that assessment.

Once Irmo was gone, Manwë breathed a sigh of relief. "One less worry," he muttered, giving the other two a wry grin. Oromë grinned back, but Vairë merely raised an eyebrow.

"Now can we go after that... that.... and what do you mean by ‘a lure’?"

Manwë smiled at Vairë’s frustration. "I’ll explain later and you can experiment with new words to call him on the way."

Vairë merely huffed at that but made no other retort, though her expression was plain enough to read.

Manwë turned to the other Ayanuz. "Oromë, can you track him?"

The younger Ayanuz nodded. "Oh yes. It’s easier here than in our own dimension. There are no other lifeforms but us."

"Well, then, let’s go."

With that, the three Ayanumuz unclothed themselves and went after their errant brother, Oromë leading the way.

****

Námo thought himself as far away as he could, though he did not have a conscious goal in mind. He simply found himself on the edge of the event horizon of one of the massive black holes in the center of some galaxy whose light would not reach the Children’s galaxy until well after the Children themselves arrived and Námo knew instinctively that at least another generation of stars would come and go before that event occurred.

Something about the sight of the black hole triggered an emotion rather than an actual memory, but that emotion was turbulent and he found himself quailing.

"Atar!" he called out. He tried to think himself elsewhere but something kept him rooted where he was. That made the terror he was feeling become even more intense and he found himself nearly screaming.

Then a sense of calm stole across his fëa and he felt himself being gently rocked. His screams became mere whimpers until they subsided altogether. Atar did not speak, yet Námo felt his wordless love covering him, soothing him and comforting him until he was completely quiescent. Only then did the actual memory come to the fore and, as he had been forced to do countless times before, he watched the memory play itself out from every angle. Atar would not release him, he knew, until he had seen what needed to be seen and had accepted it. It was a familiar routine, for this was not the first time he had been made to endure such.

Finally he came to himself again as Acairis’ words of warning echoed in his mind and the memory receded. He gave a mental sigh and felt Atar releasing him from his hold.

*Better?* Atar asked gently.

Námo nodded but did not speak, his attention drawn towards the black hole. He gauged the distance to the edge of the event horizon and idly wondered....

*Do not even think it, Child,* came Atar’s amused response. *Incorporeal thou mayest be, but even thou wouldst not survive, or rather, thou wouldst not like what thou wouldst become if thou didst venture past the event horizon.*

"Acairis...."

*My daughter is already regretting her choice, but not enough to turn from it,* Atar said and there was an infinite sadness in his tone that made Námo want to cry in sympathy. *Yet, she hath not gone so far down that road that she could not see thine own peril and wish to avert it if she could.*

"Is there no hope for her?" Námo asked, not sure why he even cared after what she had done to him.

He felt Atar smile at him gently. *Hope is what sustains Eä, my son. Hope is what has saved thee, though thou didst know it not.*

Námo thought about that for a time, not sure what Atar meant but willing to accept his words. Then he frowned and his emotions became more confused again. "Th-they want me to go back," he said simply.

*What dost thou wish to do, best beloved?* Atar asked, and there was neither approval nor disapproval in his tone.

Námo gave a mental shrug. "Don’t know," was all he could say.

*Thou knowest thou canst not stay here forever, dost thou not?* Atar asked, gently rocking his Child in an attempt to calm him.

"Why not?" Námo asked, perplexed. "I like it here."

Atar laughed lightly and Námo felt a wave of pure love spread over him, leaving him feeling somewhat dazed.

*But I need thee elsewhere, Child,* Atar said. *Thy destiny lies with the Children and they are not here in this dimension. Eventually, thou must go back. Thou hast important work to do for me.*

"I do?" Námo asked, surprised, as if he had never considered that he had anything important to contribute to Atar’s plans for Eä. He vaguely remembered his tasks before... before his capture, but that life seemed dim and unreal to him, as if it had belonged to someone else.

*Yes, Child, thou dost.*

Atar let him think about it for a time before continuing. *And when Manwë and the others show up, I do not want thee running away again. Do we understand one another, best beloved?* His tone, while still loving, was more stern.

Námo, recognizing the tone, cringed slightly in embarrassment. "Yes, Atar."

He felt Atar smiling at him and he began to feel better again. *That’s better. Ah, and here are thy family now.*

With that Námo felt Atar’s presence fading somewhat even as Manwë, Oromë and Vairë emerged around him. The three of them did not approach too closely, keeping a respectful and, to Námo’s amusement, watchful distance.

"Don’t worry," he said with a brief apologetic smile before anyone else could speak, "I won’t run off again. Atar says I can’t."

"I’m glad to hear that," Manwë said with a smile of his own. "Are you ready to come back with us?"

Námo shook his head and his expression held a hint of mischief in it. "No.... I'd rather play here. Catch me if you can!"

With that, he disappeared, his laughter echoing through the halls of Eä. Manwë sighed, shaking his head. Vairë gave a wordless cry of disbelief.

Oromë looked at Manwë in amusement. "Shall I go after him?"

"Why is he acting this way?" Vairë asked before Manwë could give an answer. "It’s almost as if... as if..."

"As if he were new come into existence?" Manwë suggested and nodded. "Yes, he reminds me of you when you first came into being," he added with a fond smile.

Vairë gave him a look of disbelief. "I was never that... that..."

Manwë actually laughed at that and, in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Vairë’s, exclaimed, "Oh, Atar, what is that? Look Atar, look what I found! Oh, let’s play I-hide-and-thou-seekest-me, Atar!"

Oromë laughed at that as Vairë continued to fume. Manwë gave her a sympathetic smile. "It looks as if he’s regressed somewhat from where he was before."

"But why?" she asked, feeling confused.

Manwë shrugged. "As to that, I suspect that it’s his way of coping with what has happened to him. He’s regressed to an earlier stage of his existence when he was innocent of all knowledge of evil."

"Well, he can’t stay that way forever, surely," Vairë exclaimed.

The Eldest shook his head. "No, nor do I think Atar will allow him to. For now, though, he has a need to act as he does until he can come to terms with what has happened."

Oromë started to say something but Námo emerged in the midst of them. "Why aren’t you playing?" he asked, looking aggrieved. Then, before anyone could answer him, he turned on Vairë and sent a trickle of energy her way, not enough to hurt, merely to surprise.

"Hey!" she yelled. "Stop that!"

"Make me!" Námo yelled back, then for good measure gave her another jolt, only harder, before thinking himself away again with a laugh.

"Námo!" Vairë nearly screamed. "When I catch up with you, you’ll wish you’d never been created!" Without another glance at either Manwë or Oromë she thought herself away, following Námo’s trail.

The other two Ayanumuz stared at each other for a moment before they started laughing. Even as they were laughing, Irmo appeared followed by the other Ayanumuz, who stared about them in awe.

"What’s happened?" Irmo demanded. "Where’s Námo?"

"Being chased by Vairë," Oromë answered with a chuckle. "Námo is in the mood to play."

Varda gave her spouse a measured look. "Play? Now?"

Manwë shrugged. "He’s... regressed to an earlier state of innocence." Then he gave her a private smile. "Remember how they all were when they first came into being?"

Varda giggled. "Oh, dear... you don’t mean....?"

Manwë laughed again. The others looked at the two who were the eldest in Atar’s Thought with some bemusement, not understanding the joke. Manwë finally calmed down enough to speak to them, smiling warmly.

"In the meantime, I think it behooves us to take the time to learn all we can about this dimension." Then, giving Varda another secret smile, he continued, "And anyone who wants to join Námo and Vairë in play may do so."

Before anyone could respond to that, Námo suddenly appeared in their midst, grabbed Irmo in a hug and shouted, "You can’t catch me!" before disappearing again.

Then they all heard Vairë’s mental scream of frustration. *Námo, stop pushing me into star cores!*

Irmo and Oromë exchanged smiles. Then, Oromë spoke. "I’ll go rescue Vairë while you go after your brother."

Irmo nodded, then called out. "Ready or not, Námo, here I come."

As Irmo faded with a thought, they all ‘heard’ Námo make a rude noise followed by laughter. Varda rolled her eyes and the other Ayanumuz started laughing, glad that the one whom they feared had been lost to them had finally been found.

14: Deep Structures of Pain and Terror

Once Irmo and Oromë left, Aulë turned to Manwë, his expression more solemn. "We shouldn’t all remain here," he said. "The Máyar..."

Manwë nodded. "True. We should not leave our people to their own devices for long. No knowing what mischief they might get themselves into without us."

"Especially those we suspect may be in sympathy with Melkor," Varda commented somewhat acerbically.

"Peace, Beloved," Manwë said mildly. "One crisis at a time. I think Aulë and Ulmo should remain and learn what they can of this dimension while the rest of you return to Eä proper. Let it be known that we’ve found our brother and will return when he is ready, but do not divulge that we have found the tenth dimension. That will remain our little secret for a time."

Varda nodded. Ulmo then spoke, looking thoughtful. "This is Eä, yet it isn’t. I do not understand."

Just then Námo reappeared, his demeanor more sober than before. "This is Eä in its potentiality, not in its fulfillment. That’s why we cannot sense any higher lifeforms here."

"Did Atar tell you this, Námo?" Manwë asked, speaking gently and making no sudden moves. He noticed sadly that the younger Ayanuz had not come into their midst but had emerged somewhat apart from them.

*As if he fears entrapment,* Varda sent to him privately. Manwë sent her an equally private agreement.

Námo nodded. "Atar says I have to sleep now."

"Sleep?" Yavanna asked. "What is that?"

"A condition similar to Resting but more so," Irmo said as he joined them, appearing beside his brother but, Manwë noted approvingly, not too closely. The last thing they needed was for Námo to flee from them again.

Oromë and Vairë had also appeared. Vairë, Manwë noted with amusement, looked flustered. Her normally green-blue aura kept shifting back and forth from yellow-green to nearly indigo and back again. Oromë merely looked amused, his bright orange aura a steady warm glow that indicated, for him, a sense of secureness and rightness with the universe at large.

"It’s a condition Estë and I have noticed occurring among some of the Máyar who tend to remain in their hröar longer than is wise," Irmo continued. "They lose all consciousness for a time and they appear to do something I have called ‘dreaming’."

Námo started at those words and looked troubled.

Manwë noticed. "What is it, Námo?"

The younger Ayanuz looked away. His attention seemed to be riveted on a particular blue-white star.

"Námo?" Manwë asked again and Námo visibly flinched as he reluctantly returned his attention to the others.

"I... I think I dream," he said quietly, not looking at anyone.

"You do?" Irmo asked with excited interest. "What do you dream about? Can you remember them when you wake up? How often..."

"Irmo," Manwë said quietly, cutting through the Ayanuz’s words. "Now is not the time to interrogate your brother." He had noticed how Námo’s aura had shifted towards the darker ultra-violet bands and did not want him to suddenly flee again. It grieved the Eldest to see that while Námo had certainly recovered from his ordeal, his fëa still showed evidence of extreme trauma. They were going to have to tread carefully around their younger brother for a time.

Irmo looked chagrined at Manwë’s reprimand. "Sorry. You’re right. This is neither the time nor place. Forgive me, brother."

Námo shrugged. "I don’t usually remember my dreams, but what dreams I remember tend to center around Acairis and...."

"Don’t mention that traitoress’ name in my presence!" Vairë exclaimed suddenly, looking angry.

Námo just stared at her in disbelief. "What! I’m supposed to refer to her as She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named from now on?" He gave her a skeptical look and then his expression turned wickedly gleeful as he leaned towards her. "Acairis, Acairis, Acairis," he said defiantly.

"Námo! I said..."

"Enough, the both of you," Manwë said and the tone of his voice was sufficient warning for them not to continue in their barbs against each other.

"Why does Atar say you have to sleep now?" Varda asked in the ensuing silence.

Námo shrugged again, his expression turning rebellious. "Don’t know. He just does. I stopped trying to argue with him about it a long time ago."

"So, you’ve done a lot of sleeping, then?" Manwë asked curiously.

"I guess," Námo replied, sounding contrary. "I didn’t have anything else to do waiting for you to find me."

Manwë winced at the tone. Námo was obviously feeling hurt for some reason. "As you may recall," he said gently, "you ran from us. We’ve done our best to find you."

"Well, you took your bloody time about it, didn’t you?" he yelled at them all, not willing to be reasonable, his expression dark with fury. "And why did you take so long to come to my rescue as well? I thought you’d abandoned me."

"That’s not true, brother, and you know it," Irmo said, automatically going to embrace Námo, but his brother visibly flinched.

"NO! DON’T TOUCH ME!" he screamed and almost managed to flee but something, or rather Someone, held him in place. The other Ayanumuz stood stock still in shock, not sure what to do next. Námo was thrashing and screaming but it was obvious he was being held in Atar’s embrace. Suddenly, he stopped, his expression a listening one, then he turned to Manwë. "Atar says I have to sleep now."

Manwë sighed. "And you always do what Atar says, don’t you?"

Námo nodded, then gave him a sly look. "Well, mostly."

The others snickered at that and they all heard Atar’s own amused chuckle from beyond the Walls of Eä.

"And don’t be surprised if I disappear," Námo continued. "For some reason I always wake up elsewhere from where I fall asleep. I don’t know why and Atar won’t explain."

Manwë smiled. "I’ll have Irmo stay and watch over you if you will permit it."

The younger Ayanuz looked at the Eldest in surprise, but then nodded. It seemed obvious to Manwë that Námo desperately wanted them around but was also afraid to let them come too close. He sighed inwardly, but otherwise schooled his expression.

"It’s settled, then," he said warmly. "Irmo will watch over you while you sleep and the rest of us will go explore. Is that all right with you?"

Again, Námo looked surprised at the question, but finally nodded.

"Good," Manwë said approvingly. "We’ll leave you to your rest then. When you awaken again we will talk... you, I and Atar."

Námo looked a bit reluctant about that but did not protest. Instead he slowly clothed himself in his hröa, the scars of the fire whip still evident on his flesh. The other Ayanuz stared at them in horror. Vairë found she had to turn away. When they had first found Námo she had been too relieved to notice them, but now.... Manwë wondered why Námo didn’t simply will them away.

*That will come in time,* he heard Atar say to him. *At the moment, he needs them.*

*What!?* Manwë thought back in shock.

Atar, however, did not answer him. Instead, they all heard him start singing a lullaby even as Námo sank to the ground before them, yawning hugely and stretching before curling up. In a matter of minutes, he was fast asleep. For several minutes the other Ayanumuz just stood there staring down at the sleeping form, mesmerized by what they were seeing.

Then Manwë gave himself a mental shake and spoke softly to them. "Let us leave our Little Brother to his rest."

They all nodded and in seconds only Irmo remained with his brother. He listened to the lullaby Atar was singing and soon was joining in.

Námo slept on, a smile on his face.

****

"I don’t know why I have to return to Eä proper," Vairë demanded of Manwë once they were away from where Námo had fallen asleep. "I want to stay here with Irmo and help watch over Námo."

Manwë shook his head. "Nay, daughter. Your duty is towards your Máyar, not towards Námo. Your Máyar have suffered a double blow: your captivity which they were unable to prevent and Acairis’ defection. You need to go to them and offer them what comfort they will accept from you. Know that in your absence, your Máyar took oath to Námo, which oaths he accepted until such time as you could redeem them."

Vairë gave Manwë a considering look. "He did?"

"Yes, sister," Nienna said, embracing her. "And then he put them and his own Máyar into mine and Estë’s keeping while he and Irmo went to your rescue."

"I think it would be well if you went with Nienna and Estë," Manwë then said. "I think you and your Máyar could all benefit with some time to yourselves to come to terms with what has happened."

"And I know the perfect place for it, too," Estë said, smiling.

Vairë looked reluctant, but eventually capitulated. "If you think I should," she said hesitantly.

Manwë took her into his own embrace and gave her a kiss. "Yes, best beloved. I think you should."

"Don’t worry, dear," Varda said consolingly. "We’ll keep a careful eye out for Námo. We will not allow any more harm to come to him if we can help it. Now go and find what healing you may, for you and your People."

Vairë looked upon her fellow Ayanumuz and saw nothing but love and support from them and finally allowed that such a retreat would indeed be beneficial for all concerned.

With that, most of the Ayanumuz returned to their proper dimension, leaving Manwë, Oromë, Aulë and Ulmo behind.

Manwë gave the other three a considering look. "Well, let’s go see to what use we can put this dimension, besides as Námo’s personal playground."

The others all laughed at that. Irmo, listening in as Manwë intended, chuckled softly to himself as he gazed fondly at his still sleeping brother. Námo, oblivious to everything, rolled over with a sigh and curled up even tighter, dreaming of the comfort of star cores.

****

"...deep structure of this dimension nearly parallels our own except for these features here," Aulë was telling Manwë when they suddenly heard Námo screaming.

The four Ayanumuz had been studying the deeper structures of the tenth dimension for some time now, or rather, Manwë, Aulë and Ulmo had. Oromë, not having any interest in such things, had been idling his time dodging the tumbling rocks of an asteroid belt, seeing just how close he could come to the rocks without actually touching them, or more correctly, colliding with them.

Now they all stopped in shock as the scream reverberated throughout the cosmos.

"Námo! No!" They heard Irmo yell in desperation.

Manwë gathered the other three Ayanumuz with a single thought and they all followed the psychic trace of the scream, emerging not on the planet where last they had left Námo and Irmo but in the midst of a different asteroid belt just in time to see Námo fade out again. Irmo had appeared almost at the same time, his expression one of fear.

Manwë turned to Oromë. "Follow him and don’t lose him."

Oromë nodded once and was gone. Irmo looked to follow but at Manwë’s command both Aulë and Ulmo converged on the younger Fëantur and held him in place by the power of their wills. Then Manwë took him in his embrace.

"Tell us what happened," he said encouragingly.

"He was sleeping and then... then he started screaming but he wouldn’t wake up," Irmo replied in a rush. "Then he just... went. What’s happening to him? Why is he screaming?"

"I don’t know," Manwë said soothingly. "Let us go and find out, shall we?"

With that, all four Ayanumuz followed the trail Oromë had left for them and they soon found themselves emerging above the center of a distant galaxy, one in which one of Varda’s infamous black holes sat in aphotic splendor. Námo, they could see, was hovering just above what they knew was the event horizon. He was awake, and no longer screaming, but his attention was all for the black hole before him. Oromë turned to the others as they emerged, giving them a look of relief.

"He ended up inside a neutron star and then bounced over here," Oromë told them. "I’ve not tried to talk to him. I feared he might run again."

"You did wisely," Manwë said approvingly. "Irmo, go to your brother. I think he will listen to you before he listens to any of us. Take care not to approach too closely."

Irmo nodded and then thought himself closer to where Námo was standing. "Námo," he sent a whispering thought to his brother.

At first there was no response and then ever so slowly Námo turned his attention to his brother. "She was right," he said emotionlessly before returning his gaze upon the emptiness where space had turned in on itself.

Irmo shivered at the thought of just who she was. "Right about what?" he asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"About black holes," Námo said without looking up. "I wonder...." He took a single step closer.

"Námo!" Irmo yelled in fright and then forced himself to remain calm. The last thing he needed was to frighten his brother into doing something rash.

Námo stopped his forward motion, but otherwise did not acknowledge Irmo’s existence. For a time that could not easily be measured even by the Ayamumuz no one moved. Námo still stared relentlessly into the void in the galaxy’s center and then with a sigh, he turned away and stopped in surprise at the sight of the others there.

"What’s the matter?" he asked.

Manwë gave him a considering look and deciding the younger Ayanuz was sincere in his surprise at seeing them, sighed. "We were hoping you would tell us, my son," he said gently. "We heard you scream and then...." He gestured towards the black hole.

Námo grimaced. "Sometimes my dreams are... too dark," he explained. "I used to wake up screaming a lot. Atar would have to hold me very close during those times." He stopped and gave them a perplexed look. "Why didn’t he hold me now?"

"Perhaps because we’re here," Manwë said. "Perhaps it’s time for us to hold you and comfort you when you need it."

Námo’s aura turned several different shades of violet and red before he was able to respond. "No. I don’t need any comforting from you. Atar can hold me, no one else."

"Námo, be reasonable," Irmo pleaded, and in his distress he moved closer to his brother.

Námo stepped back from Irmo’s approach, his expression bordering on a sick terror that made them all grieve. Manwë gave Irmo a silent order to remain still, which the Ayanuz obeyed, though it was obvious that he did so reluctantly. Manwë then turned to Námo.

"No one will touch you unless you wish it, best beloved," he said. "Now, if I’m not mistaken, you should be sleeping."

That seemed to be the right thing to say, for Námo nodded, looking both embarrassed and mollified by Manwë’s words.

Manwë grinned. "Well, then, why don’t you pick a nice spot to curl up in and we’ll leave you to your rest. Would you like one of us to stay with you?"

Námo hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Oromë," he said.

Irmo gave an inarticulate cry of disbelief and hurt and Manwë had to silently command him to be quiet. Oromë looked surprised but merely nodded.

"If that is your wish, brother," he said quietly, "I will be honored to watch over you."

"That’s settled then," Manwë said authoritatively. "Now go along and find a nice place to sleep. We’ll be here when you wake up."

Námo nodded then turned to Oromë, his aura brightening with excitement. "I know just the place. Follow me."

With that, he disappeared and Oromë followed, giving them a grin as he left.

Irmo turned to Manwë then, his expression still one of hurt and confusion. "He doesn’t want me. I’m his brother and he... he doesn’t want me."

Manwë sighed but before he could respond to Irmo’s words Aulë gathered the younger Ayanuz into his embrace. "That is not true, Little Brother," the future World-smith replied. "I think he just doesn’t want someone who is too close to him right now. Oromë is ‘safe’ simply because he is not Námo's brother in Atar's Thought as you are. Your brother needs the distance right now. In time, he will welcome your embrace."

"Aulë is correct, my son," Manwë said. "We need to let Námo dictate the rules of his healing. We cannot force ourselves on him. It will just drive him away."

Irmo looked uncertain still, but eventually accepted his elders’ words. Ulmo then turned to Manwë. "Well, while we’re waiting for Námo to wake up, we might as well finish our examination of the deep structures."

Manwë nodded. "Yes, let us even so."

As Irmo half listened to the discussion that then ensued between his elders, he wondered bleakly if things would ever be as they were before and grieved silently for himself and for his brother. It was some time before he realized that Atar was gently rocking him, offering him wordless comfort. He sighed and allowed himself to sink further into Atar’s embrace.

Perhaps things will not be the same, he reflected, but at least my brother has been found. What else matters?

And with that thought, he found himself smiling and then laughing. The others stopped their discussion to look at him.

"My brother has been found! My brother has been found!" he exclaimed and the joy of his words enveloped them all and soon they were joining him in laughter.

Yes, the lost has been found again, Oromë thought to himself as he heard his companion’s laughter. He looked fondly at Námo nestled around the core of a yellow-white star and listened to the hymn of joy being sung all about him. Even the stars rejoice.

15: Convincing Námo

"It still doesn’t make sense," Ulmo said in frustration as he, Aulë and Irmo took their ease and watched their home galaxy from a globular cluster as it slowly spun around its core. "How can this be a mirror image of Eä yet have no animal life forms larger than those nermir Námo is so fond of?"

Aulë shook his head. He and Ulmo had been traversing the tenth dimension, checking for similarities and differences. The similarities were eerily close, the differences few, but telling. "What is it that Námo said about this being Eä in potentiality but not in fulfillment?"

"Fulfillment of what, though?" Irmo asked. He had followed the two scientists about, not because he actually understood or had any true interest in what they were saying, but because he had nothing better to do while waiting for his brother to awaken. They had been in the tenth dimension for some time now, long enough for the stars of the Children’s galaxy to shift a degree or two, not long enough to raise any concerns among their Máyar. Irmo was aware that Námo’s own Máyar were understandably upset that they could not come to minister to their Lord, but Manwë had been adamant that none of the Máyar know about this dimension just yet.

"Fulfillment of what is to be."

They turned to see Námo and Oromë standing there. Irmo smiled, but did not go to Námo, having learned better than to approach him uninvited. "Hello, brother. Are you awake for a time, then?"

Námo nodded and gave Irmo a sly look. "Yes, I am, and no I don’t."

Irmo gave him an innocent look. "Don’t, what?" he asked nonchalantly.

Námo grinned and the others were secretly pleased to see their brother Ayanuz’s aura brighten almost to the frequency that was its normal healthy violet. The dark areas, the great rents in his fëa, were slowly closing up. "No, I don’t remember my dreams."

"Don’t remember, or won’t tell?" Irmo countered, refusing to back down. It irked him that, here he had been enjoined by Atar himself to see to the well-being of his fellow Ayanumuz and the Máyar, and Námo refused to let him minister to him.

Námo shrugged, refusing to be baited. "Comes to the same thing, I suppose."

Aulë decided to step in before things became too acrimonious between the two brothers. He sympathized with Irmo’s frustrations, but recognized that perhaps he was too close to the... hmmm... patient... yes, that was a good word for Námo. Manwë had been correct. They needed to let Námo determine the course of his healing.

"Well, now that you’re up," the future Worldsmith said with a smile, "perhaps you can tell us what you learned about this place while you were here alone with Atar."

Námo shrugged again even as he and Oromë settled, joining the others in taking their ease. "Little enough, I’m afraid," he said. "I only realized what this place was just before you found me. Before that, I was too busy healing or fighting with Atar to take any real notice."

"Fighting with Atar?" Ulmo asked with an amused tone. "I bet he enjoyed that."

Námo actually laughed, the first laugh from him that did not have a manic edge to it. It was deep and genuine and they all rejoiced to hear it. "More than I did," he finally said. "I always lost."

Now the others joined him in laughter. When they had calmed, Námo spoke again. "I only know that this dimension will prove important to us in the future, but why that is so has not been given to me to know." He paused, looking suddenly hesitant.

"What is it, Námo?" Aulë asked gently.

Námo did not speak for a time. Instead he gazed across the expanse of space that separated them from their own galaxy and the others wondered if he was actually seeing it... or something else. Finally, he turned his attention back to them and sighed. "I don’t think the Máyar should be told that we’ve found this place... ever."

The other Ayanumuz stared at him in shock. "Why do you say that?" Oromë asked.

Námo shrugged. "Just a feeling I have. I think we should keep this place secret for now. If... if M-melkor ever...."

He could not finish the thought and they all saw his aura darken again in distress. Ulmo, as the oldest amongst them, made a decision, sending a query across the dimensions to Manwë and Varda, who, after a brief consultation between the three of them, gave their consent. "Then that is what we will do," he said decisively. "Melkor will never hear of this place from us."

Námo looked relieved and his aura slowly began to brighten again. "That is not to say, however," Ulmo continued, speaking as gently and as sympathetically as he could, "that our Fallen Brother won’t find this place on his own."

Námo, however, shook his head. "No," he said with great authority, an authority that surprised them all. "Atar will not allow him or his People entrance into this dimension. Melkor can only find it if he suborns one of us and that will not happen among the Ayanumuz. We all suspect that some of our People are in secret sympathy with Melkor. What they do not know, they cannot reveal."

The others looked thoughtful at that and finally Ulmo nodded. "Then we will not speak of it before the Máyar. Manwë has agreed to this."

Námo seemed mollified by that statement and began to relax somewhat. He still kept himself apart from them, with only Oromë nearby but they noticed that he was in closer proximity to them than he had been before and that gave them hope.

"Manwë will be visiting soon," Ulmo then said to Námo with a smile. "I believe he, you and Atar are going to have a talk."

Námo grimaced, but it wasn’t with fear, and they all ‘heard’ him muttering imprecations against their Elder Brother and Atar and started laughing good-naturedly.

"Now, Námo," Irmo chided his brother with a smile, "is that any way to talk about Atar?"

Now Námo cringed, looking chagrined, and they laughed again. Ulmo and Aulë exchanged looks, remembering when Námo had first come into Being. They found it amusing to see him acting that young again.

"Well, while we’re waiting for Manwë to make an appearance," Aulë said after the laughter had died down, "what should we do in the meantime?"

"I want to double-check the perimeter..." Ulmo began but Námo interrupted him, giving them all a teasing grin.

"I’ve got a better idea," he said.

"And that would be what exactly?" Ulmo asked suspiciously, half anticipating what the answer was likely to be.

For a moment Námo did not respond, then with a yell, he reached over and grabbed Irmo and threw him into a nearby star. "Catch me!" he cried and then was gone.

The others looked at each other for a moment and then grinned in resignation as they heard Irmo screaming from inside the star. "You can run, brother, but you can’t hide!"

Námo’s laughter echoed through the cosmos and it was joyous. "Well, let’s go find him," Ulmo said. "You know we can’t get any work done when Námo wants to play."

They all laughed at that just as Irmo emerged from the star looking affronted. "I’ll track him," Oromë volunteered. "Come, Irmo," he motioned for his friend to join him, "we’ll hunt him together."

"And when we catch up with him," Irmo said darkly, "he’s going to wish he’d never been created."

*In your dreams, brother!* they heard Námo bespeak them. More laughter, this time taunting, followed.

The four Ayanumuz exchanged amused glances and with a single thought went after their charge unaware that the object of their hunt was hiding in the same star he’d thrown Irmo in, snickering softly.

****

Námo suddenly dropped in the middle of their merry chase and fell asleep, much to the others’ mingled concern and amusement. They felt Atar’s own amusement as he assured them that all was well. Irmo elected to stay by Námo this time and the others removed themselves from the general vicinity so as not to disturb their slumbering brother.

Thus, it was that when Námo finally awoke, and this time he woke where he had fallen asleep, he saw Irmo sitting on a nearby rock. They were on a small planet orbiting a yellow-orange star. It had a breathable atmosphere, but little else to commend itself to anyone. Námo, himself, was lying in a bed of rust-red sand that was as fine as dust. It felt warm in the sun and he reveled in the feel of it against his hröa, for he had again incarnated while sleeping.

Irmo watched his brother with interest as Námo lay there, slowly waking up. He was pleased that the signs of torture were mostly faded from his brother’s hröa. He smiled as he observed that Námo seemingly was mesmerized by the sand on which he lay, running his hands through the grains and shifting his hröa about, as if experimenting with the sensations his motions engendered. He even heard his brother humming softly in obvious contentment.

"Did you sleep well, brother?" he finally asked and Námo looked up with a smile and nodded.

"Well enough," he said as he finally sat up and looked about, automatically checking the spatiotemporal coordinates to see how long he’d slept. He was surprised that he had not slept all that long. "I guess I’m getting better," he opined, though the statement was delivered with some hesitancy and, perhaps, even regret.

"Don’t you want to get better?" Irmo asked.

Námo gave him a startled look. "Of course!" he exclaimed, then looked doubtful. "I mean... I guess."

"What are you afraid of, Námo?" his younger brother asked gently, hoping the question would not offend him.

Námo shrugged. "I don’t know... perhaps I just don’t want to go back. I like it here."

"But this isn’t your home, child."

The two brothers looked up to see Manwë standing there smiling at them. Námo grimaced, looking a little defiant.

"Why not?" he demanded. "There’s nothing back there for me, except Melkor waiting for his chance to take me again. At least here he can’t find me or... or touch me."

For a long moment the other two Ayanumuz did not move. Irmo was grieved at the vehemence of Námo’s tone and Manwë was grieved at the need to destroy the younger Ayanuz’s sense of security.

"There’s Vairë," he finally said in a soft tone and was pleased to see Námo’s defiance checked. "And there are your Máyar," he continued. "They grieve for you and only want you back to lead them again."

"Th-they do?" Námo asked, as if the thought of anyone wanting him had never occurred to him. Another memory clicked inside him and he grimaced. "I don’t know why," he said. "They’ll be better off serving someone else, someone who isn’t so... so.... weak," he ended on a lame note, not knowing what other word to call himself. He was weak, he knew that, weak and stupid and useless and....

"Nay, child," Manwë said gravely. "Thou art not weak save in thine own imaginings. Thy Máyar have need of thee and will accept no other as their Lord."

Námo did not look convinced and Manwë resisted a sigh. "Come," he said more gently. "I promised you and I and Atar would talk. Let us go somewhere more private, shall we?"

Námo sighed and nodded reluctantly. "I still don’t want to leave here," he retorted somewhat petulantly. "I like it here. No one can touch me here." That last was said somewhat wistfully, as if he almost regretted it, but only just. He gave Manwë a defiant glare. "No one can make me go back."

Manwë nodded. "No, child. No one can make you do anything you do not wish to do, not even Atar."

That thought seemed to mollify him somewhat and he almost smiled at the thought, allowing Manwë to send him the coordinates for where his elder brother wished to go for their "talk", leaving Irmo alone. Ulmo, Aulë and Oromë were by his side with a single thought, though, offering him what comfort they could by their presence and their obvious concern for both brothers.

Irmo sighed, looking somewhat distraught. "What if he never wants to leave?" he asked them.

Ulmo shook his head. "Atar won’t allow him that luxury. He may not force Námo to return but he will perhaps make returning seem more desirable than staying."

The others gave him a quizzical look, but Ulmo merely smiled, unwilling to say anything further.

****

Manwë purposely led Námo to the planet where the Máhanumaz met for their discussions. He wanted to see if Námo would make any connections. He had been concerned when he realized that the younger Ayanuz had blocked out most of his memories of who he was. The thought of Námo willfully forgetting himself disturbed him on a deep level without understanding why.

*He needs to forget all so he can accept all.* Atar’s thought brushed against his mind, leaving a sense of peace behind.

"Do you recognize this place, Námo?" Manwë asked as they settled themselves in the amphitheater where they were wont to meet. It seemed strange to him to be here, knowing that this place was not real.

*But it is, Child,* came Atar’s amused words. *It’s very real, but the reality is different from what thou hast in Eä proper.*

"It’s where some of us meet," Námo answered, somewhat disinterestedly.

"Yes," Manwë agreed. "It is where we Máhanumaz meet."

Námo merely shrugged, still feeling defiant. Manwë smiled at him gently. "They miss you, you know, your brothers and sisters. Do you miss them?"

Námo nodded reluctantly. "Sometimes."

*Tell us thy thoughts, child,* they both heard Atar say and Námo sighed, looking less defiant and more uncertain.

"If I go back... what will I do there?"

Manwë wasn’t sure how to answer that and silently appealed to Atar for help, but Atar was being annoyingly unresponsive to his pleas. He sighed, realizing that it was up to him to find a way. "Do you remember what you did before?"

Námo shook his head. "Was it important?" he asked hesitantly.

Now Manwë smiled. "Yes, Námo. It was very important. You helped to keep Chaos in its proper sphere rather than allowing it to run rampant. You are able to bring Harmony out of Chaos. No one else can do that as well as you."

"Truly?" Námo now appeared intrigued.

"Truly."

The younger Ayanuz thought about that for a time. "There’s no sense of Chaos in this dimension," he finally said.

"I know," Manwë said in agreement. "That is why I think you should return to Eä with us. Your talents are being wasted here where all is latent promise rather than operative actuality."

*Thine elder brother is correct, best beloved,* Atar then said gently. *Thou'rt needed in Eä. Soon Artháraphelun will rise and thy presence will be required. Thou'rt the key.*

"Key?" Námo asked, perplexed. "Key to what?"

"The key to our success," Manwë replied, though he did not elaborate. He had the feeling that whatever memories Námo had blocked, he had to come to them himself. Giving him the information would do no good. He felt Atar’s smile of approval and reveled in the feeling of warmth and love that flowed from the very Source of his existence.

"But what...."

"Nay, child," Manwë said, speaking more formally and even more sternly than before, "if thou wouldst know what we mean, thou must journey with us back to Eä. The answers lie there, not here."

For a long moment Námo did not respond, and Manwë noticed that the younger Ayanuz, though not in hröa, was actually trembling. He longed to reach out and take Námo into his embrace but feared to move, not wishing to cause him any more distress. Atar, however, had other ideas.

*Take him into thine embrace, my son,* Atar said and as gently and as lovingly as he spoke there was still a sense of command to those words that Manwë dared not disobey.

Without thinking about it further, he slowly reached out, ready to see Námo flee. The younger Ayanuz, however, merely stood there, and when Manwë had him fully in his embrace, Námo did not struggle but allowed himself to collapse into Manwë’s embrace fully and wept, though his tears were droplets of pale blue light rather than water.

"Hush now, best beloved," Manwë crooned. "All is well. Do not be afraid."

"But I am," Námo whispered. "I’m very afraid and I don’t know why."

"Your memories...."

"I remember how I came to be here, what... what Melkor did...and I know that if I go back all will seek to keep me safe, but even so, when I think of returning, I am overwhelmed with fear and I don’t know why." He continued to weep even as Manwë continued holding him, at a loss as to how to respond to Námo’s words.

"Are you afraid that others will shun you?"

Námo stepped slightly out of Manwë’s embrace, his aura dim. "Do they not anyway? I remember little of my life before... before Melkor... but I remember that I was the very least of you."

"Why do you say that?" Manwë asked, puzzled.

"Few of the Máyar have pledged themselves to me. Even Vairë has more Máyar in her train than I. I do not know why those who have sworn themselves to me even bothered. They would do better to give their oaths to Irmo or Oromë, instead."

He stopped and Manwë forbore to speak, sensing that there was more that Námo wanted to say. Finally, the younger Ayanuz whispered, almost in a confessional manner, "I used to think that perhaps some... some of the other Máyar would see how... how worthy I was and would want to... to switch allegiance and take oath to me."

Manwë resisted a sigh, suddenly realizing just how young Námo was at this point, how young he was compared to himself or Varda. He sent a swift thought to his beloved spouse and shared the information with her. He could sense her exasperation, concern and sorrow for this one who stood before Manwë so forlornly.

"Yet, those who have sworn themselves to you are fiercely loyal to you," he finally said with as much conviction as he could muster, hoping his words would convince Námo of the truth of them. "I have never seen such loyalty from any of the Máyar as I have seen exhibited amongst your People. And I have seen how Vairë’s People came to you, not to Varda or Irmo or even Oromë, but to you to offer their oaths until such time as Vairë returned to them. Any of the Ayanumuz would have gladly taken them under their protection, but they came to you. Does that not tell you anything?"

"Only that their trust was misplaced," Námo said forlornly.

Now Manwë was beginning to feel exasperated himself. "Tush," he exclaimed. "That is just plain silly and such self-pity is unbecoming of one of the Máhanumaz. I know that what happened has... eroded your self-image and self-confidence, but I assure you that none think the less of you. If anything, you’re something of a hero in the eyes of many of the Máyar."

Námo gave Manwë a disbelieving look. "Whatever for?"

Manwë chuckled. "Can you not guess, child?" he asked with amusement. "You rescued Vairë and Therindë and offered yourself to Melkor as a sacrifice for the sake of the others."

The future Doomsman of Arda stood there rooted in shock. "They think what!? Sacrifice? I didn’t sacrifice anything, I was captured, pure and simple. If I hadn’t been so stupid as to incarnate when I did I would have won free." Now his expression was one of disgust. "Sacrifice! I’ll ‘sacrifice’ them," he said darkly and Manwë could not help but laugh.

"Then perhaps you should return to set the record straight," he suggested blandly. "The rest of us have had little luck in convincing them otherwise."

Námo almost agreed, but then hesitated, his expression uncertain. Divining his reluctance, Manwë leaned forward and took the younger Ayanuz into his embrace once again, pleased that Námo allowed him that privilege. "You can always return here if it gets too much for you," he stated softly. "If you do not remember how you crossed the dimensional fields..."

"I remember," Námo protested. "Atar showed me the way."

"Then, wilt thou return to Eä with us?" Manwë asked more formally. "Wilt thou take up thine office once again as Lord of Harmony and Right Order... and my vice-gerent?"

Námo gave Manwë a measured look. "I failed in my duty to you..."

"Nay, child," Manwë declared. "You did what you should have and I am proud of you. We all are."

For a long period neither spoke. Manwë was vaguely aware of Atar hovering over the two of them, loving them and content with whatever decision this child of his would make, yea or nay. Finally, Námo stepped back from Manwë’s embrace again and straightened, his aura going a deep violet with resolve. It was tinged with a shade of red that Manwë suspected was indicative of fear, a fear the younger Ayanuz struggled to keep under control.

"Yea, Lord," Námo intoned. "I will go with thee back into Eä."

Manwë felt a sense of relief wash over him, not realizing until then, how much he feared the answer. Then Námo’s aura darkened more toward the red and Manwë held an imaginary breath.

"D-do we have to go back im-immediately?" Námo asked hesitantly.

Manwë smiled, his steady blue aura brightening. "Nay, child. We may linger yet a little longer. Aulë and Ulmo are too enamored of this place to leave quite yet."

Námo actually snickered. "You mean, you’re going to have to drag them back to Eä." Then he gave his elder brother a wicked look. "Can I help?"

At that Manwë and Atar both laughed and soon Námo joined them and the sound of it, rich and deep and full of bells, was as a balm to Manwë’s fëa.

16: Námo’s Homecoming

As it was, it was some little time before Námo felt sufficiently strong enough to return to Eä proper. Also, as Manwë predicted, Aulë and Ulmo were reluctant to leave the tenth dimension, but eventually the Eldest issued an order in a tone of voice that they all recognized and dared not disobey. Aulë and Ulmo went first, leaving Manwë with Námo, Oromë and Irmo. Námo was feeling unsettled and at one point actually fled, ending up hovering over the event horizon of the black hole in the center of the Children’s galaxy. Manwë ordered the other two Ayanumuz back to Eä and went after Námo himself, being careful not to emerge too close to him.

"Námo," he said quietly, "it’s time to go back."

Námo merely shook his head, not looking at Manwë, his attention riveted on the emptiness before him. "No."

"Námo," Manwë commanded, "turn around and look at me."

"No."

"Perhaps you are correct," Manwë said, changing tactics. "Perhaps you are better off remaining here... alone."

"Good."

"So, I’ll take Oromë and Irmo and leave you alone," Manwë continued, "and no one will ever return here to talk to you or see how you are doing... not even Atar."

That got Námo’s attention. He turned around to face Manwë. "What do you mean, ‘not even Atar’? Atar would never desert me."

"I didn’t say he would desert you, child," Manwë said reasonably. "I said that no one will ever disturb you here, including Atar."

"But..."

"Námo, look around you," Manwë insisted. "There is nothing here. You said it yourself: all is potentiality, not fulfillment. That can only happen if we return to Eä. Do you truly want to remain here alone? I tell you this, if you decide to remain, I will not allow anyone to come here, though you will be free to leave anytime you wish and join us in Eä."

"Then what..." Námo began, sounding confused and uncertain about Manwë’s motives.

"But if you do," the Eldest continued with implacable certainty, "you will not be allowed to take your rightful place among the Máhanumaz, nor will you be counted among the Ayanumuz. I will set you among the Máyar and you will have to take oath to one of us."

The absolute shock that Námo felt was quite evident. His aura nearly disappeared into the ultra-violet. "You’re not serious," he countered faintly.

"Very," Manwë said. "And make no mistake. Atar will support my decision in this, however much it may grieve him... and me."

For the longest time neither spoke. Manwë waited patiently for Námo to make his decision. "He... he’ll find me," he finally whispered.

Manwë schooled himself not to respond to the hurt and fear Námo was exhibiting. "Perhaps," he agreed with equanimity, "but if he does, he will not find you alone. I will make sure you are never alone. You will always have an escort, and I do not mean just by your Máyar or even mine."

Námo gave him a puzzled look. "You mean...."

Manwë nodded. "I will make sure that one of us is by your side at all times," he explained. "One of the other Ayanumuz will be there. You will not be alone, ever."

Námo thought about it for some time and Manwë could see him vacillating between fear of returning and a need to be with others, at least on a subconscious level. He still would not let others near him, but he definitely would seek out the company of whoever was there. Manwë remained still and waited. He could feel Atar’s love gently supporting him, both of them, though he suspected that in his agitated state, Námo was unaware of this. Finally, the younger Ayanuz sighed.

"I... I don’t want to be alone," he said quietly.

"I’m pleased to hear that, my son," Manwë said. "Come, let us away from here and return to our family. They miss you and are eager to welcome you home."

Námo nodded and reluctantly moved away from the black hole’s event horizon and stood before the Eldest, his expression still troubled. "I’m ready," he said.

Manwë tentatively reached out to embrace him and was pleased that Námo did not flinch but allowed his elder brother to hold him. "Then, let us go home."

****

Manwë wisely emerged at the same spatial coordinates as they had been in the tenth dimension, knowing that Varda and Ulmo would keep everyone else away. Námo went perfectly still, questing with his mind.

"It’s so... alive," he whispered, sounding almost awed. "I’d forgotten how alive Eä truly is."

Manwë smiled at him. "See what you were missing?"

Námo nodded. "Wh-where is everyone?" he asked, looking about and sounding a bit more fearful.

"They are waiting for us in our home galaxy," Manwë said gently. "There’s no rush. Take your time. When you think you’re ready, we’ll go find them."

Námo nodded and Manwë was intrigued at the shifting frequencies of the younger Ayanuz’s aura as Námo tried to get his fear under control. No, not fear, Manwë thought to himself, shyness. That, and the uncertainty of his welcome. Manwë remained still and was patience personified, willing to wait for as long as necessary. Námo, however, did not stall for long and Manwë was pleased to see this one exhibit the strength of will and courage that he knew lay deep inside him.

Námo’s aura steadied to a shade of violet that was perhaps darker than normal but closer to its original frequency than it had been of late. "Let’s go," he said and his thought-sending was calm.

"I’ll let you lead the way, then," Manwë said.

Námo gave him a surprised look, but realized that this was another ‘test’. He resisted a sigh, checked the coordinates in his mind, tentatively reached out to his brother, who sent thoughts of welcome and reassurance and then the two of them were gone.

****

"He’s coming," Irmo warned them all. "Remember what I told you. Let him make the first move."

Námo suddenly emerged with Manwë beside him. For the longest moment no one moved or spoke, then Varda stepped forward, but not too close.

"Welcome home, Námo," she said quietly and with great sincerity. "We’ve missed you... I’ve missed you."

That revelation seemed to shock Námo. "You did?" he asked, giving Manwë an uncertain look.

Manwë nodded and so did Varda.

"I missed your insight and counsel," Varda continued. "My beloved was correct... I have come to appreciate your talents very much and I am glad you decided to join us again. You are greatly needed here."

"I am?"

Several of the Máyar, especially among Námo’s own People, stirred at the obvious sense of confusion and doubt in Námo’s tone. Maranwë, as Námo’s chief Maya, was particularly grieved at the manner in which his Lord was acting, as if he were less than the least of the Máyar.

*Merely your perception, youngling,* Aulë sent to him, aware of how Námo’s People felt. *Your Lord is still counted among the Máhanumaz, never forget that. It will merely take some time for him to regain his sense of self-worth after what Melkor did to him.*

Maranwë mentally cringed at the image Aulë then sent him of his Lord in hröa and forced himself not to weep before them all.

"So," Manwë was saying, "here are your own Máyar waiting to welcome you, Námo. Have you no words of greeting for them?"

Maranwë and the others went perfectly still. Námo gave them a shy look, his aura tinged with green and moving into the orange spectrum, but he did not say anything. Maranwë decided to make the first move: he knelt and had the pleasure of sensing the other Máyar also kneeling before their Lord.

"Welcome back, my Lord," he said simply. "Thy People await thy commands. Wouldst thou hear my report of all that we have accomplished in thine absence?"

For a time Námo did not respond and then all could see his aura moving back towards its more normal violet. "I would be pleased to hear thy report, my child," he said with remembered formality. "Perhaps thou and thy fellows will join me later and ye may speak to me of what hath occurred while I was... away. For now, though, I would fain greet my fellow Ayanumuz first."

"It will be as thou sayest, my Lord," Maranwë answered, rising and the other Máyar followed suit.

Manwë nodded in approval. "Good, good," he said, addressing the Máyar in general. "Then let ye all depart that our brother may greet his brethren in peace."

The Máyar all bowed and were gone, save those who, like Maranwë, were attendant upon their masters and mistresses as a matter of course. Maranwë noticed that his own lord appeared less ill at ease now that there were fewer people around him. He noticed Námo mentally making a head count.

"Where’s Vairë... and my sister?" he asked Manwë.

"Ah, well, Vairë has had to do her own healing after what happened," the Eldest explained "and Nienna is with her. I have been assured that both will return to us soon. Now, why don’t you greet the others while I consult Varda on a matter."

Námo nodded and Maranwë saw him shyly advance to stand before Aulë and Yavanna and give his greeting.

"Welcome home, Little Brother," Aulë said jovially.

"It’s good to see you again, Námo," Yavanna greeted him with gentle regard.

Námo nodded but otherwise did not speak. Instead he moved to where Ulmo was and repeated his greeting. One by one he went to each Ayanuz and greeted them. None tried to take him into their embrace however much they wanted to. Finally, Námo faced his brother and Estë. For a long moment he did not speak, then, suddenly he was embracing not only Irmo but Estë, much to everyone’s surprise, Námo’s not the least.

"Thank you," he said to them, though just what he was thanking them for, not even Námo could have said.

Both Irmo and Estë nodded. Then Irmo noticed that Námo’s aura had turned a particular hue of indigo that usually augured mischief from his brother.

"Námo, what are you..."

Námo laughed and grabbed Estë, who started shrieking, and then neither she nor Námo were there.

"NÁMO!!" Irmo yelled. "You bring her back right now or so help me..."

Estë practically landed right on top of him, but before Irmo had time to realize that, he felt his brother encompass his mind and then he was gone. Manwë sighed and gave everyone a rueful look. Aulë and Ulmo merely smiled while the others appeared nonplused. Oromë’s orange aura brightened with amusement.

"So do we go after him or pretend we don’t want to play?" he asked.

"He’ll be absolutely impossible if we don’t play," Ulmo replied with a laugh.

"Is this typical behavior from him, lord?" Maranwë asked, sounding perplexed.

"Sometimes," Manwë allowed. "Do not let it trouble you, child. This is merely a... what did you call it Aulë?"

"Coping mechanism," Aulë answered, then turned to Maranwë. "Our brother was... violated," he explained baldly, sending them a mental picture of what Melkor had done to Námo, and all saw the aurae of Maranwë and the other Máyar in their presence go dark in shock. "Regressing into play is his way of dealing with what happened to him. When the emotions get too much for him to handle he reverts to play. It’s usually followed by a period of sleep. These episodes are becoming less frequent as he learns to... integrate his feelings and accepts them."

"Well, the question still remains..." Ulmo started to say but was interrupted by Námo emerging with Irmo next to him.

"Don’t you want to play?" Námo asked, sounding aggrieved.

Manwë shook his head. "Not at the moment, Námo," he said with gentle authority. "Why don’t you go with your Máyar and let them tell you what they’ve been up to while you were gone?" he suggested. "Would you like Irmo to stay with you?"

Námo gave his brother a glance and then nodded. Irmo looked very pleased at that.

"Good," Manwë said decisively. "Run along then, and afterwards, if you still feel like playing, then we will, but I suspect you’re going to want to sleep soon, won’t you?"

Námo scowled at that. "I don’t want to sleep. He... he’ll find me if I’m sleeping."

No one needed to ask who ‘he’ was. Manwë sighed. "I told you, you would never be alone. Ever. Do you believe me?"

Námo hesitated for a second, then nodded.

"Then why don’t you go find a favorite star to sleep in and I’ll have my People help yours in guarding you and Irmo will stay with you as well. Does that meet with your approval?"

Námo gave the Eldest a ghost of a smile. "Any star?"

"Just so long as it doesn’t have an event horizon attached to it," he retorted with mock severity.

At that Námo actually laughed and, with a gesture to his Máyar, he said, "Let us go then, my children. Come, brother, I know just the place."

With that Námo, Irmo and all of Námo’s bemused Máyar and half of Manwë’s Máyar, led by Manveru and Erunáro, were gone. The other Ayanumuz gave Manwë bemused looks of their own.

"Event horizon?" Varda asked.

"Don’t ask," Manwë said with a grimace.

"Well, that’s one crisis averted," Ulmo said contemplatively.

"For now," Aulë amended.

"For now," Manwë agreed, then he gave them a wry smile. "Good thing Vairë wasn’t here, she would have been furious that Námo grabbed Estë instead of her."

They all laughed at that and went back to their duties with lighter hearts. Námo was back where he belonged. They all knew there was still a long road ahead and that their brother was far from healed, but they were now feeling more hopeful.

Námo, in the meantime, was trying to decide between two blue-white dwarf stars that were relatively close to one another in size, though he kept insisting that, while one had a more comfortable core (whatever that meant), the other ‘felt’ warmer.

Irmo and the Máyar just stood around looking on in bemusement as the Máhanaz jumped back and forth trying to decide which star was the best for sleeping in.

"Námo!" Irmo finally yelled in exasperation. "Just pick one!"

Námo gave his brother a hard look and then a wicked grin. Making a rude noise, he was gone, apparently to check out other stars. Irmo gave Maranwë a wry grin. "I think your report to your Lord will have to wait, Maranwë. It looks as if we’re going to be busy helping my brother find just that right star for sleeping in."

Maranwë grinned in spite of himself. "I’m rather fond of red giants myself, lord," he said and then they were all laughing as they went after Námo still jumping from star to star looking for a good place to hide.

17: Adjustments

Námo finally settled on an orange-red giant to sleep in. Before doing so, though, he did gather all his Máyar around him as he nestled against the star’s core with Irmo by his side. Manwë’s Máyar ranged around the corona of the star on guard, though they were privy to the conversation going on inside, a conversation that was both alarming and illuminating.

"Now, what do you want to tell me?" Námo asked once he stopped fidgeting.

Everyone else had remained perfectly still while their lord settled. Maranwë noticed that if any of them came within a certain distance, Námo became agitated, so he sent a silent command to his fellow Máyar to stay outside that distance. Only Irmo apparently was able to be inside Námo’s ‘space’ without causing his brother distress. Maranwë sighed, wondering how long it was going to take before they got their lord back.

*He will never be the same as before, child,* he felt Manwë bespeak him with compassion, *but he will still be your Lord and you and your brethren must take comfort in that thought.*

*Yes, lord,* Maranwë acknowledged with some reluctance, then focused his concentration on Námo. "We’ve been having trouble with a certain part of Eä," he explained, sending the spatiotemporal coordinates automatically. "Nothing seems to want to stay put and we think...." here he glanced at Tindomerel and Calimo with whom he worked most closely, "we think time may be running backwards."

Námo did not say anything at first as if thinking... or remembering. He turned to Irmo. "I thought Aulë checked that area out."

"He was going to, brother," Irmo said, "but then Vairë..."

Námo’s expression was one of puzzlement. "What about Vairë? She knows nothing of quantum mechanics or interdimensional physics."

Irmo gave his brother a considering look. "Do you not remember Vairë and Therindë being kidnapped, Námo?" he asked as gently as he could.

Then the Máyar watched as their lord’s aura went incandescent and they could all feel his shock as apparently a memory that had been buried now surfaced.

"The nermir," Námo whispered. "The nermir... th-they... came and... I was... I was one of them."

"Yes, brother," Irmo whispered back, silently alerting Manwë on an entirely different frequency about what was happening, "you were one of them... for a time."

"They were so beautiful," Námo’s tone was one of awe. "They were so beautiful," he repeated, "and I was... I was...."

To Maranwë’s horror and that of his fellow Máyar their lord began weeping, leaning into Irmo’s embrace. Irmo rocked him gently. "And you are just as beautiful, brother," he said firmly, "else the nermir would not have accepted you amongst them, for they are Beauty personified and will not suffer anything that is not beautiful in their midst."

That seemed to be just the right thing to say, for Námo’s aura quieted to its more normal hue, though it was still tinged with a shade of bluish-green that Irmo had come to recognize meant ‘doubt’ to his brother.

"Do... do you think so?" Námo asked hesitantly.

"Nay, brother," Irmo said with an encouraging smile, "I do not think so, I know so. Whatever happened you are still very beautiful. Don’t ever doubt that."

"I don’t feel...."

"What you feel and what you are are not always the same thing, child."

Manwë was suddenly in their midst. The Máyar bowed to the Eldest, who acknowledged them with a smile before returning his attention to Námo. "Right now, your feelings are suspect," he said. "You should not trust them wholly where you yourself are concerned. Let us guide you there and, if not us, then Atar."

For a time Námo did not respond, then finally the bluish-green tinge in his aura faded and he appeared more calm. Manwë noted with interest and approval that Námo did not seek to remove himself from Irmo’s embrace when he turned to address Maranwë. "You were saying?" he asked.

Maranwë realized that Námo’s tone was once again that of his lord. He gave Manwë a glance and, receiving a nod of encouragement, continued his report. "We’ve done what we could to contain the area in question, my Lord, but we are at a loss as to what to do next. Lords Aulë and Ulmo have not been... present of late, so we could not consult them."

Námo nodded and turned to Manwë. "Have Aulë look into it, will you? If I remember correctly, I believed one of the higher dimensions was unstable and possibly causing the temporal disruptions." He gave a sigh of disgust. "I find it annoying that that part of Eä keeps sliding back along the spatiotemporal continuum towards Primal Chaos rather than towards Final Entropy."

The Ayanuz’s tone was almost petulant and Irmo found himself laughing. "One would think that Eä is doing this on purpose merely to annoy you, brother, the way you carry on."

Námo gave him a surprised look. "You mean it isn’t?"

Both Irmo and Manwë laughed and Maranwë found himself grinning along with the other Máyar. Then, Námo’s aura shaded towards indigo and Irmo gave him a shake.

"Oh no, brother," Irmo admonished him. "Whatever you’re thinking, don’t."

"But it’s time to play," Námo protested.

"No, Námo," Manwë intervened. "It’s time for sleeping. You may play later."

Now Námo’s aura moved toward green tinged with orange. That was always a bad sign, Irmo knew, for during his sojourn in the tenth dimension, he had learned the hard way that such a shift in his brother’s aura presaged a temper tantrum. Manwë obviously recognized the signs as well even if Námo’s Máyar did not.

"Remember what I told you, Námo," Manwë said firmly, attempting to stave off the coming storm, "about placing you among the Máyar."

That stopped Námo cold and sent a frisson of shock through the Máyar listening. Maranwë felt a sick feeling run through him at the thought of his lord suffering further humiliation even at the hands of the Eldest, whom he knew had only Námo’s best interest at heart.

"You said you would do that if I didn’t come back with you," Námo said almost accusingly.

Manwë nodded. "And I meant it. I also mean it now. Learn to control yourself and obey me or I will demote you until you are ready to resume your proper place among us."

No one moved while Námo thought out the implications of Manwë’s words. Slowly, the orange-tinged green of his aura faded, moving closer to violet again, though it remained darker than normal. Maranwë was beginning to understand that this signified sorrow or perhaps even fear on Námo’s part. He ached to see his lord looking so bereft and wished he could do something about it.

Then inspiration hit, or perhaps, on further reflection, it was a nudge from Atar. Maranwë shot a private thought to his fellow Máyar who all silently agreed to his plan. Then he sought permission from Manwë to carry it out, which was granted. Finally, Maranwë turned to Námo with a bow.

"My Lord," he said formally, "we strove mightily on thy behalf whilst thou wert gone and find that we are ourselves weary of our labors. Wouldst thou grant us leave to rest with thee?"

Námo gave his Chief Máya a considering look. "Are you truly fatigued Maranwë or are you just humoring me?"

"Oh no, my Lord," Tindomerel broke in. "I have seen the Lady Estë eyeing us of late and we feared she would order us to our rest and none of us wished to do so until thou didst return so we might give thee our report."

Calimo nodded and grinned. "We are that glad of thy return, Lord, for none of us wished to be on the receiving end of one of Lady Estë’s lectures."

There were quiet chuckles all around at that and when Námo smiled as well, all were secretly pleased. He nodded. "No, we wouldn’t want that, would we? Very well, my children, let us get comfortable then."

With that, he leaned further into Irmo’s embrace, much to his brother’s delight, while Maranwë directed the other Máyar to range themselves throughout the star, though cautioning them not to settle too closely to the core, which all instinctively understood was off limits. Manwë watched with amusement as two or three of the Máyar began arguing softly over a particular spot that, frankly, looked no different from any other spot, knowing full well they were doing it only for show, even if Námo was not completely aware of it. In fact, Námo seemed to be oblivious to everything now that he was settled in Irmo’s embrace, softly humming Atar’s lullaby to himself as he slowly drifted towards true sleep. His Máyar, listening to the tune, softly picked it up as Námo’s mind faded toward unconsciousness and quietly serenaded their lord and master for a time until, one by one, they too slipped into a state of rest. Soon, the only Máyar still awake were Manwë’s People guarding the star. Manwë gave Irmo a nod of satisfaction, then left him to watch over his brother and his brother’s Máyar alone.

****

A routine was quickly established. Námo would awaken and demand to play, which was disconcerting to the Máyar at first, though the Ayanumuz seemed to take it in good humor. Eventually, the Máyar, especially Námo’s People, fell into the spirit of things, even discussing beforehand among themselves what ‘games’ they might play with their lord that would keep him amused. Námo, of course, would have happily played away forever but Manwë always set a time limit. Námo learned quickly to obey the Eldest when he called a halt to the play and stated that it was time for the younger Ayanuz to take up his duties again. Then, with one of his fellow Ayanuz by his side — usually Irmo or Oromë, but occasionally Aulë or Ulmo, and once even Manwë himself — he and his Máyar would range through Eä, completing their tasks, with Manwë’s guards surrounding them.

At first Námo was hesitant and unsure of his duties or his abilities to carry them out. He apparently had forgotten much of his life before his capture and the memories were only beginning to surface. Sometimes he was at a loss as to what to do even when Maranwë or one of the other Máyar patiently explained the situation. There was a level of frustration that seemed to build up at these times and when the level reached a certain point Manwë would step in and order Námo and his Máyar to rest. It became a game for the Máyar to then start listing the pros and cons of sleeping in a particular star. Some even got up the nerve to argue with Námo over their lord’s own selection and Maranwë was secretly pleased at this, for Námo showed better humor and was less likely to argue with Manwë about it.

Not that it was always smooth sailing. At one point they were seeing to a certain quadrant of Eä that was somewhat further from their home galaxy than they had previously gone with their lord. Perhaps beginning to feel hemmed in by all who guarded him, Námo’s aura went from pure violet to deep red in a nanosecond without any warning or provocation and he started lashing out at all who were there, sending electromagnetic bolts of energy into Irmo and several of the Máyar standing nearest to him. None of the bolts actually hurt anyone, they were more stunned by the viciousness of the attack rather than by any pain they might have felt. Maranwë, especially, felt the brunt of his lord’s anger and was dismayed. Almost before anyone else could react, Aulë, Ulmo and Oromë suddenly emerged and converged on Námo, holding him down by the strength of their Wills. Námo started screaming and thrashing about. The Máyar, once they were recovered, looked on in shock and horror, not knowing what to do. Manwë came then, along with Varda and Estë. The latter two took the Máyar aside to give them assurances and comfort while the Eldest handled Námo. Irmo, once he recovered from his own shock, joined his fellow Ayanumuz in holding Námo down.

"Do not let up your hold on him for a second," Manwë commanded the others calmly.

"We haven’t seen one of these fits in some time," Aulë said, almost clinically, for in truth, the combined Wills of the three Máhanumaz was more than enough to keep Námo in place without overtaxing any of them. Irmo’s additional aid was, in fact, quite unnecessary, but the others welcomed it, recognizing the younger Ayanuz’s need to help.

"What brought it on?" Manwë asked.

Irmo, still recovering from the attack and already feeling fatigued with the strain of helping to constrain his brother, answered wearily. "I don’t know. One minute we're discussing the need to move some of the dark matter here to another quadrant of Eä and the next thing we know he explodes."

"Rest you, Little Brother," Aulë said not unkindly. "We have this one under control. We thank you for your help, but you are obviously in pain yourself."

"Aulë is correct, Irmo," Estë said, coming to them. "Come, let me check you over. You need to rest for a time and restore your energy."

Irmo reluctantly agreed but only after the Máhanumaz assured him that they had things well in hand, being careful to praise him for the quickness in which he called for help in spite of being stunned by the energy bolts. Manwë further assured him that all was well and no blame was attached to him for what had happened. Estë cast Manwë a grateful look at that last statement, knowing full well that Irmo would blame himself for not anticipating Námo’s actions.

In the meantime, Námo’s tantrum continued, though not with its original force. Manwë did nothing to stay it, merely waiting patiently until at last Námo subsided, the orange-red hue of his rage flickering back towards a royal violet that signified his normal state of emotional calmness. When the last of his thrashings and screaming subsided and he became still, Manwë silently ordered the others away. Námo did not move and now his aura was tinged with yellow, his thought processes showing confusion. He became aware of Manwë standing near him.

"Wh-what’s wrong?" he asked almost fearfully.

"You attacked your brother and your Máyar," Manwë answered, deciding that telling Námo the bald truth was the best course to take.

Námo stared at him in disbelief. "No," he whispered, shaking in denial. "No, oh no, oh no...."

"Námo, look at me," Manwë commanded quietly, his tone brooking no denial.

It took some time for Námo to comply but finally he did. For a time, Manwë merely stared at the younger Ayanuz, seeing the sense of shame, guilt and fear roiling within him. He ached for this child but knew he could not show any sympathy as yet until he got to the bottom of it all.

"Why did you attack your brethren?" Manwë finally asked.

Námo’s answer was nearly inaudible. "He... he was hurting me... he was hu-hurting me... I didn’t want him to hurt me anymore... you pro-promised he wouldn’t hurt me anymore...."

Manwë sighed, and sent a silent plea to Atar for help, but Atar’s only response was to send him a wave of love. It was not what he’d hoped for but he welcomed the warmth of Atar’s regard nonetheless.

Námo, in the meantime was weeping again, practically crawling before Manwë and pleading. "Pl-please don’t hurt me... I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I didn’t mean it... please don’t..."

"Oh, child," Manwë said compassionately as he stooped down and gathered Námo into his embrace. "None of us want to hurt you. Hush now, all is well. You must have had a very bad memory surface and felt threatened."

"He was hurting me... he was...."

"Shhh. I know he was," Manwë whispered, "but he’s not hurting you now, is he?" Námo’s aura brightened a bit, indicating agreement with Manwë’s words. "Then you are safe. Come, you should not be here." With that, he gave a command for all the others to follow and, carefully encompassing Námo’s mind with his own, thought them back to their own galaxy. Then, he ordered Maranwë to find them a suitable star and soon Námo was wrapping himself around the core of a blue-white giant. Irmo gently rocked the core to help his brother relax while Námo’s Máyar stood around and sang him to sleep.

Those looking on from outside noticed how the star’s luminosity would brighten and then dim in rhythm with Irmo’s rocking.

****

Once he was assured that Námo was asleep, Manwë joined the other Ayanumuz.

"Do you know what set him off?" Varda asked with concern.

"Do any of you recognize where they were?" Manwë asked his own question.

"I do," Oromë answered, his normally bright orange aura darkening somewhat. "It’s near where he and I fled the time we encountered Melkor in Varda’s star nursery."

"I thought you fled to our own galaxy," Varda countered.

Oromë’s aura went towards yellow, indicating denial. "That’s where we finally ended up," he explained, "but first we hid in a red giant." He gave them the coordinates and all could see that the star was very close to where Námo had had his attack. "He barely allowed me to hold him through the spasms of disgust he was feeling at the time."

"Then you think the proximity of the place triggered the memory?" Estë asked.

"Possibly," Manwë conceded. "We just don’t know enough of how all this works. He’s suppressed much of his memories, even the good ones. Atar has told me it was necessary for him to forget all so he could accept all. I did not understand at first, but now I think I’m beginning to."

"He’s not asked after Vairë, except that one time," Varda said, her expression one of concern, "and then he seemed to simply accept her absence as a matter of course."

"I do not think he’s remembered the way he feels about her," Oromë offered. "Perhaps the emotions he might feel are too close to what he feels towards Melkor but for a different reason."

The other Ayanumuz gazed upon Oromë with some wonder and respect. Manwë nodded. "You see further into our brother’s fëa than I suspect even Irmo does, my son. I imagine that in this regard you are correct."

"I had thought to summon Vairë and Nienna back," Varda said, "for I was hoping that Vairë’s presence would help with Námo’s healing, but now I’m not so sure."

"I think you are wise not to, beloved," Manwë replied with a warm smile for his spouse. "Námo has too many other emotions to deal with right now."

"Yet, to deny Vairë, Nienna or their Máyar their rightful places beside us as we labor towards the building of Atháraphelun," Ulmo suggested, "does not sit well with me, with any of us."

"I know," Manwë sighed. "I think, however, in this we must allow Námo to make the first move. When he himself asks after Vairë, then, I believe, he will be ready to deal with the emotions attached to her memory."

"He still needs to release Vairë’s Máyar back to her," Yavanna pointed out. "There’s been no formal ceremony of redemption. Technically, they still belong to Námo, though we have allowed them to go with Vairë."

"Yes," Manwë agreed, "but let us deal with that later. When Vairë returns will be time enough for all to be restored to their proper spheres. In the meantime, let us endeavor to prevent a repeat of what just happened." He turned to Oromë. "You know better than any those places in Eä where Námo might feel threatened by a memory. Mark them and give their coordinates to Maranwë."

Oromë bowed. "It shall be as you say, lord."

"I think we should take some time for relaxation," Estë said. "I can sense that many among us are still upset and distraught. Some time in play, without Námo this time, might be in order."

The others nodded and smiled, for play with Námo tended to be somewhat frenetic. Soon, all were dispersed to pursue their favorite pastimes, leaving Manwë and Varda to themselves.

"This is going to be harder than any of us anticipated," Varda finally said as the two settled on a nearby world that orbited a yellow dwarf star and incarnated so they could swim in the planet’s one ocean.

"We’ll survive," Manwë opined with a wry grin as they entered the warm waters, "though I grant you, it’ll be a near thing."

Varda smiled, then her eyes glinted with mischief and before Manwë could avoid it, she was pushing him into the surf. He came up sputtering and laughing and went to grab her. When he finally did catch up with her on one of the beaches of a small island in the middle of the ocean, it was because she wanted to be caught. After that, all thoughts of Námo and their concerns for him fled as they enjoyed each other’s company.

18: Redeeming the Oath

Námo was more subdued after what everyone was calling the "Red Star Incident". He was less insistent on play and went about his tasks with little joy. He was also less inclined to argue with Manwë or the other Ayanumuz and he gave orders to his Máyar seemingly in an apologetic tone, as if he feared that his own People would reject his authority. This was a worrying thing for all concerned and no one, not even Manwë, seemed to know what to do about it.

"I think we need for him to come to terms with what happened on his own," Manwë said to them all during one of Námo’s sleep periods. Maranwë had been particularly upset, for his lord had offered no arguments when Manwë had told him to go and rest and when Calimo had tentatively suggested a white dwarf star for Námo’s ‘bed’, the Ayanuz merely had only nodded and gone dutifully to sleep without protest.

"This is just a minor setback," Irmo informed them. "It was bound to happen," he added. "I think he will rebound more quickly if we simply treat him as we have been. Eventually he will see that we do not think the less of him because of what happened." He looked pointedly at Námo’s Máyar. "That is especially true for you Máyar."

"Are we to pretend nothing happened?" Tindomerel asked, her expression one of confusion.

"No," Manwë replied. "Yet, neither should you act as if you expect him to attack you at any moment. He must know that you still trust him and that he can trust you."

"B-but of course we trust him," Maranwë exclaimed in surprise. "He’s our lord, after all."

Námo’s other Máyar nodded in agreement. Manwë smiled. "That is well. Be sure to let him know this, for right now he feels guilty and he fears your hatred."

The thought of ever hating their lord was so alien to Námo’s Máyar that none of them could respond adequately to Manwë’s words. Maranwë finally bowed to the Eldest. "We will endeavor to allay any fears or feelings of guilt he may have, lord."

Manwë nodded his acknowledgment of Maranwë’s words on behalf of his fellow Máyar and dismissed them.

****

In spite of the setback, Námo did seem to be acting more responsibly and was not as immature in his responses to things as before. At one point, he simply told Manwë that he no longer felt the need to sleep on a regular basis but he would take rest periods whenever Irmo or Estë felt he needed them. Manwë agreed, secretly pleased that Námo was beginning to take charge of his own well-being.

Now, whenever he rested, Námo was more likely to do so in hröa, selecting a planet randomly and spending time wandering through fields or forests or sitting quietly by a lake or an ocean. Always his Máyar were there and one of the Ayanumuz, usually either Irmo or Oromë, for he felt the most comfortable with them. Given Námo’s task of hunting down unsettled areas of Eä and bringing Order out of Chaos, Oromë’s skills of finding things proved useful. All noticed though that Námo rarely visited the more remote wastelands of the cosmos, preferring to send his Máyar to those areas to restore the space-time continuum to its proper state, only going there if absolutely necessary. They noticed as well that when such necessity did force him to leave the local group of galaxies he would return from his task looking exhausted, his aura greying towards the ultra-violet, his demeanor one of extreme nervousness and he would not let anyone, not even Irmo, come close to him for some time afterwards. As well, he would end up sleeping for far longer than normal.

"He is in fear of Melkor finding him away from the safety of home," Irmo opined to Manwë when the Eldest enquired about Námo’s state. "Even with all the Máyar guards, he still feels vulnerable and the... emotional drain of pretending otherwise proves too much at times, I think."

Manwë considered these words and spoke to Varda about them, but neither could come up with a viable solution to help the younger Ayanuz, except to ask Námo’s Máyar to do all they could to obviate their lord’s need to leave the relative safety of their home galaxy. Maranwë assured them that he and his fellows were aware of what their lord was experiencing and were doing their best to alleviate his worries.

"Yet, there are some things we are not able to accomplish on our own, lord," Maranwë stated, "for we do not have the power even collectively to accomplish what one of the Ayanumuz may do alone."

Manwë nodded. "I am aware of this, and to delegate such tasks to another of us would only demean Námo and make things worse. Eventually, he will have to come to terms with this. I do not intend to have my People guarding him to the end of Eä’s existence. At some point, he will have to rely on his own People to guard him."

"And he must begin to guard himself," Varda added. "I fear that our younger brother must eventually face Melkor again or he will never be free of our Fallen Brother’s hold on him."

Maranwë’s aura went white with shock at the thought of his beloved master having to face the Fallen One again, but he knew, to his sorrow, that such was inevitable and vowed to himself that when that day came, he would be there beside his lord in his hour of need.

****

Time continued forward and the stars of the Children’s galaxy shifted two or three more degrees. Námo was resting on a planet orbiting a yellow dwarf star somewhere in their home galaxy. He was sitting on a black sand beach watching the waves hit the shore and observing a total eclipse of the planet’s primary by one of the two moons this world boasted. He found the sight fascinating as darkness covered him even though it was the middle of the day. He watched with interest as the planet’s satellite seemingly swallowed the sun until only its corona was visible. He decided to unclothe himself so as to enjoy the phenomenon on all wavelengths.

"A beautiful sight, is it not?" Irmo asked, for it was his turn to watch over Námo.

"Yes," Námo said. "Very beautiful."

"How many have you witnessed?" Irmo asked.

Námo shrugged. "Not that many," he replied. "I haven’t paid much attention to them, but I do like how eerie everything seems."

Irmo chuckled as Námo slipped back into hröa and walked into the surf, letting the ocean waves take him. For a while he swam under the spectral light of the eclipse. Except for the crashing of the waves on the beach, there was no other sound, for this world had yet to produce any animal life. Irmo contented himself with walking along the shore, keeping an eye on his charge (as he saw Námo), while giving his brother the space that he needed.

As the moon slowly moved across the face of the sun, the sky began to brighten and soon the light returned. Námo came out of the water then and allowed the heat of the day to warm and dry his hröa.

"Do you plan to sleep or just rest?" Irmo asked him with a smile.

"I think I would like to lie here in the sand and perhaps let the warmth lull me to sleep," Námo replied with his own smile.

Irmo nodded. "Sounds good. I’ll keep watch."

"Where are the Máyar?" Námo asked as he settled himself on the beach well away from the surf line, idly covering himself with the warm black sand. "They’re usually with us."

"They’re guarding the system," Irmo answered. "We’re actually more vulnerable to an attack here than if you were inside a star."

Námo frowned. "I should have thought of that."

"Do not concern yourself, Námo," Irmo said soothingly. "The Máyar are quite capable of protecting us. Rest now. All is well."

Námo nodded reluctantly, but when it was obvious to him that Irmo was not concerned, he settled back into the sand, closing his eyes and letting the warmth of the sand covering him and the shushing of the waves breaking on the beach lull him into true sleep.

****

Irmo was idly humming to himself as he pushed the wet sand around him, building something. He wasn’t sure what he was building but he piled the sand and began shaping it with the hands of his hröa and the power of his mind. Námo was still sleeping, and had been for some time. The planet’s primary was already slipping towards the horizon, bathing the sky with shades of indigo and rose while the blue of the sea was turning almost emerald green as darkness approached. Irmo was wondering if Námo would waken soon or sleep through the hours of night, but was not overly concerned either way. He was content to sit and play with the sand until his brother chose to awaken. So he was rather surprised when Námo suddenly sat up.

"Vairë!" Námo shouted, looking about in confusion. "Where’s Vairë?"

"Námo, is something wrong?" Irmo asked, silently alerting the Máyar who ringed the system on guard and then sending a thought to Manwë as well.

"Vairë," Námo repeated the name, now looking distraught. "I need to find Vairë."

Irmo went to Námo, attempting to soothe him. "Peace, brother," he said. "Vairë is with Nienna. Do you not remember?"

Námo blinked at him, his expression blank. "No... I ... she... was with... with him and then...."

"And then you rescued her," Irmo finished for him. "Now she is with Nienna. Do you not remember rescuing her and Therindë?"

Námo nodded reluctantly, as if he was not entirely sure that what his brother had told him was correct. Then his expression cleared somewhat and he gave Irmo a considering look. "I need to see her."

"And you shall," Irmo assured him. "Manwë will let Nienna know. Shall we go find him?"

Námo nodded again while Irmo relayed his orders to the Máyar. "Let us go then," he said, sending Námo the necessary spatiotemporal coordinates to where Manwë was presently holding court and then they were gone.

****

Manwë and Varda were overseeing a project of Ulmo’s when Irmo alerted them to Námo’s precipitous awakening and desire to see Vairë. The Eldest exchanged a measured look with his spouse. "I think the time has come to call Vairë home," Manwë said and Varda nodded.

Even as Námo and Irmo appeared with their Máyar, Nienna also was there with Vairë in tow, their respective Máyar with them. As soon as Námo saw Vairë, he ignored everyone else and went to her.

"Vairë!" he exclaimed. "Art thou well?"

Vairë smiled at him. "Yes, Námo, I am well. And thou? Art thou well?"

Námo started to nod, then stopped and shook his head. "Nay, I am not... b-but I... I think I’m getting better." He found himself becoming shy before her all of a sudden without understanding why.

Whatever pain Vairë might have felt at that admission she did not show it. Instead, she smiled at him. "I am glad to hear it... we all are."

"I think while we are all here," Manwë said, "we should see about Vairë redeeming her Máyar."

Námo gave him a puzzled look. "Redeem?"

"Do you not remember taking Ilinsor’s oath on behalf of all of Vairë’s Máyar when she went missing?" Manwë asked Námo gently.

Námo shook his head. "No. Sorry."

Manwë sighed and looked at Varda and Ulmo. The latter frowned. "I do not know if it is proper for the redemption to go forward when Námo does not remember."

"And if he never does, what then?" Varda asked.

None had an answer to that and Vairë looked distraught, as did her Máyar who moved closer to their lady, as if afraid they would be ripped from her presence. Námo noticed this and frowned. He shook his head, turning his attention back to Manwë. "It matters not if I remember," he said. "I will not keep what does not belong to me. Let Vairë redeem her People howsoever she chooses. I will not gainsay her."

Manwë nodded. "In that case, I think it behooves us to summon all our People as witnesses so there is no doubt that thou, Námo, art freely releasing the Máyar back to thee, my daughter." He turned to Vairë as he said this. "We shall summon thee and thy People when the time is meet." Vairë bowed in acknowledgment to his words. Manwë then turned back to Námo. "And thou, we also shall summon at the proper time. Until then, go about your tasks as ye are accustomed."

With that Manwë and Varda left, along with Ulmo and Nienna, leaving Irmo, Námo and Vairë with their Máyar. For a long period of time no one spoke or moved, not sure what should be said or done. Finally, though, seeing the absurdity of it all, Námo’s aura brightened in amusement. He looked pointedly at Vairë. "So, do you want me to throw you into a star core or something while we’re waiting?"

At first Vairë just stared at him in disbelief and then she started laughing and soon all joined her. In the end, they decided to go surfing in the corona of the star that Námo and Irmo had watched being eclipsed. That is where they were found when the summons finally came.

****

Námo, Irmo and Vairë, surrounded by their Máyar emerged on the planet where the Máhanumaz often met to discuss things. Námo looked about with interest, for he had not been here since returning to Eä proper, had in fact, forgotten about this world until then. Memories of previous visits and councils flooded him and certain things he had heard his fellows say since his return now made more sense as memories filled the void of his mind where the past lay.

"I remember this place," he said to Irmo quietly and his brother beamed with delight, for Námo was not to know that the decisions had been made that he would not be included in any of the discussion among the Máhanumaz until such time as he actually asked about them or otherwise indicated that he remembered where they met and why. Now his brother could begin to take his proper place among the Ayanumuz more fully.

They made their way to the amphitheater where the other ten Ayanumuz were along with Eönwë, standing beside his lord. The rest of the Máyar formed a ring about the center. Manwë gestured for the three to join them, along with Námo and Vairë’s Máyar. Námo was surprised when Vairë’s Máyar joined with his rather than remaining with Vairë, who stood looking rather bereft with only Nienna by her side to offer her support. Manwë gave the two a sympathetic look and spoke to them privately.

*Be not surprised, my son, that Vairë’s People mingle with yours,* he told Námo. *Technically speaking, they still belong to you and cannot formally return to Vairë until the Oath is redeemed.*

Námo nodded his acceptance of this and he was glad to see that Vairë looked less distraught as well. Manwë then addressed them all.

"We are here to stand witness to the redeeming of an Oath given and accepted. When our sister Vairë was lost to us for a time, her People approached our brother Námo to petition him in accepting them as his Own until such time as their Lady returned and could ransom them. Our brother accepted their Oaths. Now both have been restored to us and the time has come for the redeeming of that Oath."

Námo had gone still as Manwë spoke and now his expression was troubled. "If Vairë’s People sought protection from me when she went missing," he enquired, "what happened to them and my own People when... when... I was....well, you know...." he ended on a helpless note, feeling stupid and embarrassed at not being able to articulate what had happened to him. No one seemed to notice.

Manwë merely nodded his understanding. "Before you left to rescue Vairë you placed your Máyar and Vairë’s in your sister’s care, but there was no formal oath-taking, therefore we may dispense with that where your own People are concerned. However, Ilinsor and Vairë’s other Máyar did, in effect, switch allegiance even though conditioned by Vairë’s return. Eönwë stood as formal witness to that in my stead and will record this ceremony as well. We could have merely done so without everyone here, but I felt it necessary that all see Vairë’s People restored to her and that the restoration was done freely and without condition on your part."

Námo indicated his understanding and then asked his next question, almost shyly. "So... what do I do?"

Varda smiled warmly at him. "For your part, do what your heart tells you to do, child. All else will flow from that." She turned to Vairë, who was looking equally unsure about how to proceed. "And you as well, daughter."

Vairë nodded. For a moment she and Námo just looked at each other, not entirely sure what to do and then Námo made a decision. He still had no memory of the oath-taking but that did not matter. He gestured for Ilinsor to stand beside him with Maranwë on his other side, then turned his attention back to Vairë. "My sister," he said, speaking with as much formality as he could, "in thine absence thy People sought protection from me that they be not bereft of lord or duty. They have proven true to their oaths and now I would right gladly return them to their proper place among us, if thou art willing to accept them back into thy keeping."

Vairë nodded assent. "My brother," she said with equal formality, "right gladly do I accept mine own back and I thank thee for thy care of them whom I love most dearly."

Námo then turned to Ilinsor. "My child, you and your brethren were orphaned but see now, your Lady hath returned and would welcome you back. Will ye go to her in love and joy, accepting your Lady’s will in all things as you once accepted mine?"

Ilinsor bowed to Námo. "Yea, verily I will, my lord, I and my fellows. And we thank thee for accepting us into thy heart and thy protection. Know that thou hast our love for what thou hast done for us."

Then, on impulse, he knelt one last time before Námo and all the rest of Vairë’s People did the same. Námo felt a frisson of shock race through him as a door to a memory opened and he saw himself before a group of kneeling Máyar and recognized Ilinsor amongst them. He nodded as the memory flowed through his mind, taking its proper place within the sequence of his past.

"Go then, my children," he said, "and return ye to your Lady in gladness and in joy and know that you have my love as well." Then he reached down and raised Ilinsor up, bringing him to stand before Vairë. "Here, my sister, take back what is thine for I gladly and freely release these children into thy care as is meet for me to do."

"I thank thee, my brother," Vairë said with a smile, and took Ilinsor into her embrace. "Welcome back, Ilinsor," she said. "Welcome back, my child." Then she opened herself to all her other Máyar. "Welcome back, my children." Vairë’s People rose and went to her as she embraced them one at a time, naming them, her love for them obvious to all.

Námo turned to Maranwë with a smile. "It’s good to see a family restored, isn’t it?"

Maranwë smiled back. "Yes, lord, it is very good."

19: On Constructing Atháraphelun

Not long after the redemption ceremony, Manwë summoned the other Máhanumaz to Máhanumazphelun, the name they had given the planet where they often assembled. For the first time since returning to Eä, Námo was invited to attend. He felt very nervous about it, for his memory of his previous visits was dim and fractured. He wasn’t sure he really belonged there, but Manwë made a point of having Oromë bring him. He was rather surprised that his brother Irmo wasn’t there, but Nienna assured him that Irmo would be invited to attend a meeting when and if his presence was required. When they were all gathered, Manwë spoke.

"Atar has revealed to me that the time draws near for the building of Atháraphelun."

There were murmurs of surprise all around. Námo felt something that bordered on fear coursing through him as his aura deepened in hue, but he was not sure why. He felt Oromë reach out and offer him some comfort and they shared a shy smile between them before devoting their attention to Manwë, who was still speaking.

"Yavanna and Nienna have been overseeing the construction of the architectural model that we plan to use in constructing the Children’s home," the Eldest said. "They have had the assistance of Vána and Nessa. Ulmo and Aulë have finished mapping the deep structures and thanks to Námo" — Námo started at the sound of his name and felt himself going shy before everyone’s regard — "we’ve been able to plot all the dimensions as well. Námo and Oromë have been hunting down errant pockets of Chaos and repairing any breaches in the fabric of the space-time continuum such pockets may have caused. I also believe that Irmo, Estë and Vairë’s project is on schedule so I think we’ve done all we can to assure that nothing hinders the construction of the Children’s home."

"What project is that?" Námo asked in confusion, for he could not recall if he ever knew what his brother, Estë and Vairë were doing.

Manwë smiled. "They are exploring the psycho-physical effects of us remaining in hröa for long stretches of time," he explained. "Once the Children come we will most likely remain incarnate for extended periods as we interact with them. Irmo wants to make sure that we will not experience any detrimental side-effects to being in hröa beyond the normal span of time." He gave Námo a sympathetic look. "You know better than most of us how you were affected by being incarnate for as long as you were."

Námo nodded, looking troubled. "Wh-why haven’t they asked me about it? How are they..." His aura flared to incandescence in shock at what he was thinking. "Who... who are they... experimenting on?"

"No one, I assure you," Manwë said forcibly, belatedly realizing the source of Námo’s distress. "They are merely interviewing the Máyar who tend to remain in hröa longer than we Ayanumuz."

"Be at peace, Little Brother," Ulmo said solicitously. "No one is being harmed. In fact, several of our Máyar have even volunteered to remain incarnate for longer periods of time so Irmo and Estë can measure the effects more closely, but so far your brother has refused their offers."

"And I will not countenance it anyway," Manwë added. "The research is purely anecdotal at this point, nothing more."

Námo calmed down and started to apologize but Manwë waved the apology away. "It is we who should apologize for inadvertently upsetting you in this manner." He gave Námo a searching look. "If you are well, my son, perhaps we can continue with our discussion." Námo nodded feeling chagrined.

"Good," Manwë said giving Námo a comforting smile, before addressing the rest of them. "I need not remind any of you that the tenth dimension and its location is to remain secret. None of the Máyar are to know of it until I say otherwise." They all nodded at that.

"How much time do we have?" Oromë asked.

"There is much we must still do," Manwë answered him, "but it will be soon. Let us first examine the model that has been built so we can see what will be involved in the construction."

"For this, I think the other Ayanumuz should be summoned so they may join in the discussion," Varda said to Manwë and her spouse agreed.

Almost at once the five other Ayanumuz emerged, settling around the amphitheater with the Máhanumaz. Manwë explained the reason for their summons and Námo watched with interest as both Vána’s and Nessa’s aurae turned various hues in mingled surprise, pleasure and shyness now that their masterpiece was about to be uncovered. All of them waited expectantly for the unveiling. Yavanna and Nienna appeared unusually mirthful for some reason, as if they shared a joke between them. Yavanna’s normally spring green aura was tinged with yellow while Nienna’s usually serene blue was tinged with green. Námo had the feeling his sister was laughing to herself.

"Vána and Nessa have done most of the work on this," Yavanna told them, "so I will let them answer any questions you may have."

Manwë indicated that the two younger Ayanumuz should step into the center, which they did. Then with a few short notes of a Song of Summoning on Vána’s part, the model of Atháraphelun appeared suspended in the air before them. There was complete silence as everyone stared at the image until Námo broke it with an observation.

"It’s flat."

And so it was. It was also square. Námo could see a single large landmass in the center of the... well, he guessed it was technically a world... surrounded by an ocean. The ocean’s waters flowed over the edges, seemingly into infinity. Vána and Nessa both nodded enthusiastically. "We... we wanted something special for the Children’s habitation," Nessa explained shyly.

"But, it’s flat," Námo protested, not sure he was seeing things correctly. He bent down to look at the underside of the model. Interestingly enough, it rather reminded him of the craggy surface of an asteroid and suspected that the model had indeed started out life as an irregularly shaped piece of rock orbiting some unsuspecting star unaware of the plans these two had for one of its offspring. He straightened, looking exasperated at his older sister. "And you allowed this?" he demanded.

Nienna bristled somewhat at her brother’s tone, but her reply was as cold as interstellar space. "We did not forbid it."

"But it’s FLAT!" Námo practically screamed, unable to believe that his sister or Yavanna had permitted this. He could almost hear laughter echoing through him and sensed that Atar was finding the situation amusing even if he did not.

Vána and Nessa scowled at him while the others looked on in amusement. Yavanna, in fact, was unable to contain her mirth and was clinging helplessly to her spouse as she succumbed to laughter.

"Besides stating the obvious, Námo," Vána demanded, "what’s your point?"

Námo stared at her in disbelief and then glanced at the others. Manwë and Varda were studiously not looking at any of them; Oromë was too busy examining the model up close to be paying attention to the exchange. The others were looking rather nonplused at the model, obviously unsure how to respond to it. He turned back to Vána.

"Excuse me, but did I miss something while I was... gone?" he asked coldly. now looking pointedly at Aulë and Ulmo. "Did we decide to introduce flat worlds to Eä? I don’t recall running into one lately."

"There’s no need for sarcasm, Námo," Manwë admonished him, though not very strongly. Still, Námo cringed at the Eldest’s tone and muttered an apology.

Now Nessa looked uncertainly at her fellow Ayanumuz. "We... we just thought the Children deserved something special for their habitation." She sounded so forlorn that Námo relented.

"Nessa," he said gently, "Atháraphelun will be special not because we make it so, but simply by virtue of it being the habitation of Atar’s Children. Their presence on the world, however ordinary it may appear from the far reaches of space, will make it shine with beauty and grace unparalleled by anything we have created or may yet create."

"We just wanted it to be special," Vána insisted, looking as forlorn as Nessa.

"And it will be, my daughters," Manwë said with great gentleness. Then he sighed. "It was a valiant effort on your part, my dears, but we really do need a round Atháraphelun."

Námo looked at Aulë. "Is this even possible?" he asked pointing to the flat world floating serenely before them, for he admitted to himself he really did not know.

Aulë shrugged and gave the younger Ayanuz a smile. "Anything is possible, Little Brother," he commented, "but that is not to say that it is necessarily probable."

"But can you actually have a flat world?" Irmo asked. "How do you account for gravitation and how do you create night and day?"

Aulë frowned, obviously intrigued by Irmo’s questions. "Well, it would require a major overhaul of the laws of physics as we have set them up," he admitted, "but it could be done, just not very easily."

"A round world really does make more sense anyway," Ulmo added. "It makes things much easier, construction-wise, since we’ve gotten the technique of creating round worlds down rather well."

Some of the others nodded. They well remembered some of their first attempts at creating worlds, the evidence of their failures in the myriad asteroid fields orbiting many a star. The two younger Ayanumuz were close to tears and both Yavanna and Nienna sought to comfort them. Nessa, the stronger-willed of the two, pulled out of Nienna’s embrace, her expression set.

"We’ll dismantle this model and start again," she told them with a scowl. "It’ll take a bit longer to come up with another model." She started to gesture when Námo stayed her.

"Wait!" he exclaimed going perfectly still.

"Now what?" Nessa demanded irritably, scowling at Námo, who paid her no mind. "Aren’t you satisfied with mocking us..."

"Peace, Nessa," Manwë said quietly and his tone brooked no argument. He had noticed Námo’s stance and realized that he was either in communion with Atar or in the throes of a prescient moment. The others now noticed Manwë’s attention on Námo and they all quieted so as not to disturb him.

For a long moment Námo remained still, then he was speaking, but it was obviously not to any of them. "Do you really think it will work, Atar?" they heard him ask. There was a pause as Námo listened to Atar’s reply and then he gave a sigh of impatience. "I know that, Atar, but..."

Again he went still and they all waited. Finally they saw his aura turning a lighter shade of violet that usually indicated amusement and Manwë finally decided to enter the discussion. "Well?" he asked Námo pointedly, "What did Atar say?" He tried not to sound too miffed at being excluded from the conversation between Námo and their Atar, but Námo caught the undertone of disappointment and smiled, though he did not answer Manwë’s question directly. Instead, he turned to Aulë.

"You said that it was possible to construct a flat world that could exist within Eä," he stated.

Aulë looked at Námo in surprise but nodded. "It would take some doing and I shudder at all the deconstructing we would have to do before we could even start..."

Námo waved away Aulë’s objections. "But it can be done?"

"What are you inferring, Námo?" Manwë asked. "What did Atar tell you?"

Námo turned to Manwë. "Just this: what if we go ahead and create a flat Atháraphelun as a diversion while we construct the real Atháraphelun in a hidden location, then move it to where it is destined to arise?"

"You think Melkor will attempt to sabotage the project," Varda said shrewdly.

Námo flinched slightly at Varda mentioning Melkor but otherwise he answered her with cool assurance. "We already have those beacon stars set up as a diversion," he reminded them. "Why not put that and this model to good use? Keep... Me-melkor’s attention elsewhere for a time."

They all noticed that even now Námo could not bring himself to say their Fallen Brother’s name without stumbling over it. It saddened them but they knew that Námo would have to come to terms with his feelings towards Melkor on his own.

Manwë thought about Námo’s words. "And Atar approves of this?" he asked.

Námo shrugged and gave the Eldest a grin. "It was his idea."

They all murmured at that, for they had never known Atar to intervene so directly in the affairs of Eä, but apparently there was more to this than perhaps even Námo suspected. At any rate, Manwë could see the merits of the idea and nodded. He turned to Nessa and Vána. "Keep this model at hand, my dears, and construct for us another Atháraphelun in the meantime. When you are ready, we will meet again to see what you have done and make further plans at that time."

Nessa and Vána nodded. Oromë, who had completely ignored everything around him while he examined the model closely, now straightened from his examination and looked at Manwë. "This is really quite good," he opined, pointing to the model, "but I don’t think Atar would approve."

At first there was silence and then they all started to laugh, realizing that their brother Ayanuz had completely missed the entire conversation from the moment Vána had brought the model into being. "What?" he asked in confusion. "What did I say?"

They just laughed the harder and it was some time before any of them got themselves under control long enough to explain it to him.

****

Life among the Ayanumuz and Máyar continued apace. Námo, at one point, took Irmo aside and questioned him thoroughly about his ‘project’. Irmo, recognizing his brother’s need for assurance, showed him the results of the interviews he, Estë and Vairë had conducted.

"Why didn’t you come to me with your questions?" Námo asked.

Irmo gave his brother a sympathetic look. "Are you really ready to talk about your experiences in hröa? Do you even truly remember yet?"

Námo went still for a time and then sighed. "Nay, you are right, brother," he said forlornly. "I am not yet ready."

"Then when you are, come to me and we will talk, just the two of us."

Námo nodded and the two brothers separated to continue each with his own task.

****

When the summons came again, Námo wondered just what the new model would look like and didn’t hold much hope that it would be any better than the last, but held his thoughts to himself, having learned the value of discretion since his outburst at the unveiling of the ‘flat Atháraphelun’. Again, all the Ayanumuz were present when Vána and Nessa brought forth the new model. For a time, no one spoke. In fact, Vána and Nessa both stared pointedly at Námo as if daring him to say anything detrimental. Námo’s aura flared slightly towards indigo, indicating deep amusement at his younger sisters' expressions.

"Well?" Nessa couldn’t help saying to Námo, as if his was the only opinion that mattered.

"It’s beautiful," Námo responded simply.

And it was. There was again a single large landmass that straddled the equator on one side of the slowly spinning globe. Near the center of the landmass was a large lake or inland sea in the midst of which stood a large island. Námo did a quick calculation and realized that the model, definitely created to scale, showed a world that met the parameters that they had determined would allow for Life and that would easily support the Children.

Manwë smiled at Námo. "We are glad you approve." Several of the Ayanumuz snickered at the dryness of the Eldest’s tone and Námo cringed slightly at the underlying reprimand. Manwë merely turned to Nessa and Vána. "As do we, my daughters. Well done." That simple praise caused the aurae of the two younger Ayanumuz to brighten with joy.

"It’s lovely, my dears," Varda added with a benign smile. "Now have you given any thought to how the system itself will look?"

Vána looked uncertain. "Were we supposed to design the entire system?"

Aulë shook his head. "Nay, Little Sister," he said gently. "You and Nessa should not have all the fun. We would like to offer some of our own ideas." The other Ayanumuz nodded.

"Very well," Manwë said. "How should we design the star system in which Atháraphelun shall be the central jewel? How many other worlds and what should their compositions be?"

"We already know that the star itself will need to be a yellow-white dwarf with this particular radius and energy output to sustain the type of Life that will support the Children," Varda said and with a simple thought she removed the model of the Children’s world from the center of the amphitheater and set it in a region of space outside the star system, instantly creating a miniature star also to scale and placing it the requisite distance away from the model. In the meantime, everyone else joined her.

"Atháraphelun will need to be set at this distance from it’s primary," Varda told them, sending them the necessary mathematics. "That means that we could have two worlds inside its orbit and then any number beyond, though given the parameters we’ve set up, I doubt we will want more than six or seven additional worlds."

"So a total of ten worlds including the Children’s," Manwë said contemplatively. "So be it. As Vána and Nessa have had the pleasure of designing Atháraphelun, though I suspect each of us will want to make suggestions for improvement, let the other worlds be designed by the rest of us."

"I will take care of the star," Varda said. "I have some ideas about how I want to do it differently this time."

Manwë nodded but Námo shook his head. "Nay, Varda," he said and his tone was one they were beginning to recognize, for he was apparently experiencing a vision of the future of some kind. "The First Children are destined to awaken under starlight. No dawn will they witness for Ages upon Ages until the Second Children are brought forth."

Varda gave him a disconcerted look. "How do we create a star system without a star?"

Námo gave her a shrug, the prescient vision fading from his consciousness. "I know not, only that the primary will not be seen by any until the Second Children come into existence and before you ask, I do not know how long after the First Children that will be or even how long after we finish building Atháraphelun the First Children will come."

"Well, that presents something of a problem," Aulë said in disgust. "We need a star to keep the planets in their right orbits. They cannot just... just hang there," he ended in exasperation.

For a time they all pondered the situation, none of them happy about it. Varda glared at Námo accusingly. "Are you sure this is what you saw?"

Námo felt himself growing cold with anger. "I do not seek these visions out, Varda," he replied. "I merely tell you what I have seen or, more correctly, what Atar has deigned to show me. The First Children are destined to awaken under starlight and to know only starlight for some time after."

"Yet, without sunlight, there can be no growth," Yavanna protested.

"We could construct... er... lamps, I suppose is as good a name as any for them," Aulë suggested. "They would be globes that we can set on the planet at the poles. They would provide enough energy to induce growth."

"But how does that permit the Children to awaken under starlight?" Nienna asked.

"We would not need the lamps for very long," Yavanna said, understanding what her spouse was talking about. "Just long enough to induce growth. Once it occurs, we can remove these... lamps or dim them before the First Children arrive."

"And I can create a forcefield around the planet," Varda added, "that will protect it from the cold of interstellar space until it is time to bring forth the system’s star."

"How do we hide a star?" Estë asked. "We still need one to keep the planets in their orbit as Aulë said."

"What about one of your failure’s, Varda?" Oromë chimed in with a smile.

"What do you mean, youngling?" the future Elentári asked in a dangerously low tone.

Oromë’s normal orange aura merely brightened. "Those brown dwarfs," he said. "Can we not use one as a... a substitute until you are ready to create the real star?"

Varda thought about that for a moment, then shook her head. "That won’t work," she decided, "for the mass of even the largest brown dwarf is too low to keep the planets in their orbits. Even allowing for an accretion ring to make up for the necessary mass, there would not be enough gravitational pull. We would have to constantly monitor the planets and modify their orbits."

"Well there has to be a solution," Ulmo said, "else I do not think Atar would insist that the First Children awaken only under starlight."

Just then, Námo gave a gasp, and before anyone could respond he simply left them. "Námo!" Irmo cried.

"After him," Manwë ordered Irmo and Oromë and the two started to obey but Námo reappeared just then, his aura bright with excitement.

"Come, I think I have the solution." He sent them the coordinates and disappeared again.

Intrigued, they all followed him, finding themselves emerging just outside the event horizon of a black hole. Manwë gave Námo a concerned look as he noticed the way the younger Ayanuz hovered over the emptiness, his expression rapt. "Námo," he said softly. "Come away from there."

"Why have you brought us here, Námo?" Varda asked almost at the same time as Manwë was issuing his order.

Námo turned his attention reluctantly from the black hole. "It was Oromë," he said and the future Lord of Forests and Hunter of Evil gave a guilty start, looking pleadingly at Manwë.

"I swear, I never...."

Námo laughed and the sound of it was pure, neither forced nor tinged with sarcasm or anger as it had often been of late and they all rejoiced even as they wondered at the source of the humor. "Nay, Oromë," Námo said, "I only meant that when you spoke of Varda’s brown dwarfs you neglected to mention her other failures." He turned his attention back to the black hole.

Varda started to protest, her own white light dimming slowly towards anger, but Aulë stayed her. "Wait, Varda," he exclaimed with growing excitement, his usual steady crimson turning nearly orange, "he’s right. All we need is a black hole with the same mass as the star that you plan to create for the Children."

Varda contemplated Aulë’s words and her aura brightened back to its normal incandescence. "That could actually work," she said thoughtfully.

"But black holes..." Vána interjected doubtfully. Her grasp of stellar dynamics was elementary at best, being more interested in arranging the stars in interesting patterns and creating planets with unusual properties.

Varda turned to the younger Ayanuz with a warm smile. "A black hole of that size would have an event horizon only a few microseconds in diameter. There would be no danger of the planets being sucked in."

"Will you be able to create such a thing, though?" Yavanna asked. "Your other... er... experiments didn’t go so well."

There was some soft snickering from the others, though it was not mean-spirited, for they all truly loved the Star Queen, as some of the Máyar were beginning to call her. None of them could claim not to have made mistakes in their various attempts to bring the Vision of Eä into reality. Varda tried to look miffed, but failed utterly, merely saying with a sigh, "I’ve gotten better. This will not be a problem."

"So, we will go ahead with the construction of Atháraphelun and the rest of the system," Manwë summed up the discussion as they returned to where they had left the model, "using a black hole in place of the star that will eventually be set there. Aulë will construct these lamps of his so Yavanna may induce growth on Atháraphelun while Varda will construct a forcefield to protect the planet once we dismantle the lamps. Are we all agreed?"

They all nodded.

"Anything else we need to discuss before we adjourn?" Manwë asked.

"Just this," Námo said, his expression grave. "Where the second planet from the primary would go...."

"Yes? What is it, Námo?" Manwë asked when the other hesitated.

"There should be no planet there," Námo said baldly, "at least not immediately."

"Any particular reason why?" the Eldest enquired, resisting a sigh, as the others murmured in surprise at Námo’s words. Sometimes their brother’s announcements were not only annoying but inconvenient, though they recognized their importance and did not begrudge them too much. Still....

Námo’s aura darkened somewhat, as if he were deep in thought. "A time will come when the Children will need a sign of hope. I... I do not know what that sign will be, only that it will be set within the orbit of the second planet." He looked at Manwë apologetically. "I’m sorry... I don’t know any more than that."

"Well, it will disrupt the symmetry of the system," Manwë replied, "but that cannot be helped. Very well, there will be only nine worlds total, at least for now. If there is nothing more, then let us go."

At that, all but Námo left to go their own ways, while the future Doomsman of Arda remained, contemplating many things as the model of Atháraphelun continued to spin lazily before him.

****

Máhanumazphelun: literally, "The Place of the Authorities".

Author’s Note: My thanks to Misty for the information on solar mass black holes. Without her help, Atháraphelun would never have been built. *grin*

A solar mass black hole would hold the planets in their orbits without drawing them in. The event horizon radius would be about 3 km (1.875 miles) and the diameter would be about 6 km (3.75 miles). Rather than using ‘kilometers’ as a measurement, I have indicated the diameter of the event horizon in terms of ‘microseconds’, keeping in mind that it takes light from our sun eight minutes to reach Earth, a distance of 149,600,000 km (93,500,000 miles). Since 1983, the speed of light has been defined as the length of the path traveled by light in vacuum during a time interval of 1/299,792,458 of a second. This makes the speed of light exactly 299,792.458 km/s. A microsecond is one millionth of a second.

20: Designing Worlds

"So, have you decided what sort of world you want to create to adorn Atháraphelun’s system?" Vairë idly asked Námo as they were taking their ease some time later.

Námo shrugged as he threw a dirty snowball the size of a small mountain at Irmo. "I haven’t decided yet," he answered her. They were at their favorite ‘playground’ as Oromë called it, "Since yours is presently off limits," he had quipped when none of the Máyar were around.

Both Ayanumuz had been busy of late — Námo overseeing the final stages of the construction of the flat world by Manwë’s orders; Vairë consulting with Irmo and Nienna on some project she refused to discuss with him. The Ayanumuz were taking turns overseeing the construction of the flat Atháraphelun, which duty had been left to the Máyar, while the Ayanumuz concentrated on constructing the real Atháraphelun. That project was hidden behind a wall of Chaos that Námo had constructed in one of the farther regions of Eä, a region where none of the Máyar were likely to go.

"And any that do," Manwë had said once the barriers had been set, "we will know to keep a closer eye on." The others had agreed, little though they liked the thought of further treachery from the ranks of the Máyar. Acairis’ betrayal was still fresh in their minds.

"I think Manwë and Varda want to work on one together." Námo continued to speak as he waited for the iceball to be tossed back. "Aulë said he has a mind to create the closest world to where the star will eventually go. He said something about needing a more permanent furnace for his projects."

"Yes," Vairë said with a slight smile. "Yavanna was complaining that his collection of star cores is cluttering up our star system. She told me that if he drags one more piece of rock home, she’s moving to another system."

Námo laughed at that even as he negligently caught the iceball from Oromë and tossed it on to Irmo. "What sort of planet were you thinking of creating?" he asked.

Now it was Vairë’s turn to shrug and she went suddenly shy, her pretty indigo aura shading towards green. "I... I was thinking that... well... mayhap we could... you know..."

"Vairë, you’re stammering," Námo said gently with a teasing smile. She glared at him for a moment and then gave a merry laugh.

"I am, aren’t I?" she acquiesced. Her aura steadied and returned to its normal hue. "I was only trying to say that I thought it would be fun to design a world together."

Now he was the one to start stammering. "Y-you mean the t-two of us? Together?"

Vairë’s aura brightened with amusement at Námo’s reaction. "Yes, the two of us, together," she answered, then evinced a nonchalant air. "Of course, if you’d rather not..."

"No! I mean yes, I mean..." Now Námo was simply confused. "Why?"

"Why what?" Vairë asked, her expression quizzical.

"I mean... why do you want to do this together?"

"Námo, do you not remember your feelings for me?" she asked quietly. She was not sure if she should press the matter, but it had been niggling at her, the uncertainty and Námo’s apparent lack of interest in her once they were reunited.

Námo wasn’t sure how to answer her question. His memories were still somewhat tattered. Most were intact and he seemed to remember things like his work and the fact that he was the Keeper of the Variable, but he was still struggling with remembering relationships. Irmo and Oromë were the only ones among the Ayanumuz with whom he felt at all comfortable. Manwë he saw more like an extension of Atar rather than an older brother and he was more formal with him. As for Vairë....

"Hey, are you playing or what?" Oromë shouted to him, even as he threw the miniature mountain his way.

Námo captured the snowball, glad for the diversion. "Yes, I’m playing," he replied, casting an apologetic look at Vairë. "Can we have this discussion later? I... I think I might like to work on one of the other worlds with you... but... I...."

Vairë resisted a sigh and merely indicated her consent. "Perhaps later we can discuss what kind of world we would like to see adorning Atháraphelun’s skies," she said, then gave him a wicked smirk. "Now, are you going to throw that stupid snowball or have you decided to start your own collection?"

Námo stared in surprise at the chunk of interstellar ice that he still held, having quite forgotten about it and blushed, throwing it to Irmo even as Vairë laughed.

****

The construction of both Atháraphelumun went apace. Ulmo and Aulë made a show of restructuring the physics in the region where the flat world was being built, even going so far as to create a crystal sphere in which to encase the false star system. Varda also provided some verisimilitude to the project by bringing forth a yellow star and setting it in motion around the world, thus providing it with day and night. Vána offered her own chief Máya, Arien, to act as the star’s guide, telling the Máya that her task was the most important for she would help bring light to the Children. It had been decided not to tell the Máyar about Námo’s pronouncement concerning how the Firstborn should awaken in starlight only. Arien, for her part, took the task with great seriousness, delighted that her mistress had entrusted her with such a momentous responsibility. Vána merely nodded at Arien's expressions of gratitude, but Varda went back to Manwë in a rage at the idea that they had had to deceive one of their own. It took Manwë some time to calm her down.

"Perhaps when it comes time for the Children’s star to be brought forth Vána will let Arien assist you," he suggested and that thought seemed to mollify his spouse, but it still grieved her, indeed it grieved all of them, that they were forced to engage in such subterfuge with those whom they saw as their own children.

"It’s only for a while," Námo said consolingly when Varda expressed her dismay. "A small price to pay for ensuring that Atar’s Children have a world ready for their habitation." To that none could argue and so they continued in their tasks, both visible and invisible.

Námo and Vairë did take some time to discuss what kind of world they would create. It was not easy for either of them to agree on anything. "Ulmo is creating that water world that he wants to set some distance from the primary," Námo said once while they were sitting about relaxing. They were on a planet that orbited a blue giant, watching that monstrous star set in sapphirine glory while the sky above them flamed with crimson, emerald and purple light, the high clouds reflecting the dying sun’s blue rays. "He said something about making the planet’s core hot enough to keep the water from freezing. Seems to think he can create simple life forms without benefit of sunlight."

Vairë made a noncommittal noise. Námo grinned at her. "My thought exactly," he replied with a light laugh and she snickered back. "Yavanna wants to have a world with rings, so she’s working on that," he continued, ticking off the names of the other Ayanumuz and their worlds. "I believe Manwë and Varda are working on a similar world. Varda said something about seeing if she could create a world that was just on the border of becoming a star."

Vairë indicated surprise. "A failed star, like those brown dwarfs?"

"I guess," Námo said with a shrug, not really sure and not really caring. "Anyway, Irmo and Estë are thinking of creating a desert world. Not sure why." He shrugged again and Vairë echoed his shrug with one of her own, as much at a loss as he.

"That still leaves three worlds unaccounted for," Vairë said. "What about Oromë and your sister? What do they want to do?"

"Nienna expressed an interest in creating a planet similar to the one Ulmo is thinking of doing." He cast a knowing look at Vairë. "I think they’re having a contest to see who can create the most interesting planet."

Vairë grinned. "Those two should bind themselves to one another."

Námo shook his head. "Nay, I fear my sister has no desire for that and I suspect that Ulmo is the same. They are content in their solitude and simply enjoy one another’s company."

"Well that still leaves Oromë and us," Vairë said. "Has he told you what he wants to do?"

Námo shook his head. "Nay, he has not."

"Well, what should we do, then?" Vairë asked. "I do not want to create a world that is too similar to everyone else’s."

Námo nodded. "We have created many beautiful worlds, both singly and collectively, throughout Eä, yet, none, I deem, are special enough for Atháraphelun."

"Does it need to be special?" Vairë asked with a frown. "Is it not enough that it will be a part of Atháraphelun, set there for the pleasure of the Children? Uniqueness has its place, but perhaps something ordinary...."

"Define ‘ordinary’," Námo demanded with a laugh.

Vairë chuckled. "You know what I mean," she objected.

"Yes, I do and I agree." He thought for a moment. "Perhaps we should design a world that reflects our own joy for the coming of the Children."

Vairë gave him a considering look. "I like that idea." She glanced around her. The blue giant had disappeared beneath the horizon and the sky was now a deep violet. The stars in this part of their home galaxy were like a thick carpet of light overhead, for they were in one of the inner arms of the spiral. "What expresses your joy the most at the thought of the Children?" she finally asked.

For a moment Námo did not respond, then softly, almost at the very edge of thought, he said, "The nermir...they let me be one of them." He looked at Vairë and his expression was one of awe and joy mingled with a deeper emotion bordering on pain. "They were so beautiful... and they let me..."

He couldn’t finish his thoughts and before Vairë could respond he left her and where he fled she did not know, but she alerted Manwë who set Oromë on their damaged brother’s trail once again. Vairë remained where she was, deep in thought.

****

Oromë finally found Námo on the planet of his capture and quickly alerted both Manwë and Maranwë, not knowing what Námo might do in this place of pain and torment. Manwë ordered Námo’s chief Máya to warn his brethren but not to intrude until and unless called for. Maranwë begged to be allowed to join Oromë at least, but Manwë was adamant, though he relented enough to allow the Máyar to ring the planet just in case. It worried Manwë that Námo would go to that particular world when he had been avoiding it for so long. Indeed, many of the Ayanumuz were hoping that would be one memory that their brother would not recover.

Námo was standing in the very field where Vairë and Therindë had been taken. He was in hröa, which surprised Oromë. Being careful not to startle his brother, the future Lord of Forests thought himself a hröa and walked towards Námo who stood there with eyes closed and arms outstretched.

"Námo," Oromë whispered.

Without opening his eyes, Námo answered. "I’m waiting for them to come. Do you see them?"

"Who, brother? For whom are you waiting?"

Now Námo opened his eyes. "The... the nermir," he said somewhat hesitantly. "I’m waiting for them to come so I... so I can be one of them."

Oromë let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding, taking a moment to revel in the fact that he actually was breathing. The scent of wildflowers and sweet grass, the wind blowing odors of wet earth and mold from the distant forest intrigued him and set his blood racing. He had to take a couple of deep breaths to gather himself and concentrate on Námo, who stood there gazing at him with interest, a faint smile on his face.

"The sensations are overwhelming aren’t they?" he asked wryly.

Oromë nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. Being in hröa was not an experience he had often. He gave Námo a considering look. "No wonder you went insane at the end. How do you stand to be in hröa even now?"

Námo tilted his head in thought. "Was I insane? I don’t remember. I just remember..." he shook his head and glanced around, turning slowly until he was facing Oromë again, giving him a puzzled look. "It’s different... everything is different."

"What is, brother?" Oromë asked carefully.

"Where are the nermir?" Námo asked instead of giving a direct answer. "I... I want to see them again."

"I do not know, Námo," Oromë answered. "Perhaps they only exist in a season. This part of the world is slowly turning towards the cold season. When we were last here it was the height of the warm season. Perhaps they can only live where it is warm."

"Should we go look?" Námo asked, sounding excited.

Oromë gave Námo a considering look and then a slow grin spread across his visage. "I’ll race you to the north pole."

Námo laughed gaily and started running. "You’re on."

Oromë stood there stunned for a moment. "Wait," he called to the retreating Námo, "I thought we were going to disincarnate first."

Námo turned around and stopped, hands on hips, his expression one of amazement. "Well, what’s the fun of that?"

Oromë just stared at his younger brother for a moment and then he started laughing, "Indeed, what is the fun of that? Shall we start again?" He loped over to where Námo stood.

Námo grinned. "On the count of three... One...two... three!" And they were off.

Maranwë and Námo’s other Máyar watched the race from the vantage point of space and began laying bets as to who would win. The two Ayanumuz were island hopping across an archipelago when Námo suddenly dropped. Oromë, two islands ahead, turned and went back, concerned for the younger Ayanuz. He found Námo lying curled up in the sand, fast asleep with a smile on his face. Oromë chuckled to himself and gently lifted his brother up and laid him under a nearby tree with wide fronds providing shade and sat beside him, leaning his hröa against the tree trunk, idly humming while waiting for Námo to waken so they could continue their race.

****

Atháraphelumun: Plural of Atháraphelun.

21: Disappointment

As it happened, they never finished their race. Námo woke about the time the planet’s primary was sinking. "Sorry," he said to Oromë with chagrin. "All of a sudden I just had to stop." He grimaced as he stood to view their surroundings.

Oromë stood as well, smiling, and clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. "Do not be concerned, Námo. I am not upset. Should we continue our race or wait for morning? I was ahead by two islands, but I’ll be happy enough to start the race again from here."

Námo gave Oromë a mirthless grin. "You were two islands ahead only because I couldn’t stop yawning."

Oromë laughed and gave Námo a hug. "So you say."

Before Námo could muster a retort, Manwë appeared, giving them both amused looks. "Your Máyar have been laying bets on who will win," he said without preamble. The two younger Ayanumuz gave him identical looks of disbelief and he chuckled. "Unfortunately, they’ll have to hold off on their bets as we need to be elsewhere."

"What’s happened?" Oromë asked.

Manwë shook his head. "Nothing, yet," he said, his expression enigmatic. "Námo, tell your Máyar to go back to the flat Atháraphelun and give Oromë’s People a hand."

Námo nodded, relaying the message to Maranwë who acknowledged the order and in the space between one breath and the next, his Máyar were gone. Námo turned to Manwë. "What is this all about?"

The Eldest shook his head again. "Not here. Follow me." He gave them the coordinates, ones that were unfamiliar to Námo, which surprised him, but he obediently memorized them and in an instant they were gone. When in the next instant they re-emerged, Námo almost cried out and would have fled, but Manwë had been expecting that and both Ulmo and Aulë were already there, waiting. Even before Námo had registered where they were, the two older Ayanumuz were upon him, holding him in place while at the same time sending soothing thoughts to calm him.

"What is this place? What is this place?" Námo screamed, struggling in his brothers’ grasps.

"Do you not recognize it, Námo?" Aulë asked.

Námo’s aura went dark in denial.

"Then why are you so afraid?" Ulmo asked, speaking gently.

"I don’t know, I don’t know! Please, I don’t know..." He continued struggling in vain until he exhausted himself and then lay quiescent but still fearful, his whole posture one of defeat.

Manwë looked at him with compassion. "Námo, open yourself to the memories. No, it’s well, my son," he took the younger Ayanuz into his embrace when Námo started to wail again. "We’re all here to help you. Just let them come. It’s the only way you can find full healing."

"No, please," Námo begged him. "Atar wouldn’t...."

"It was Atar who told me to bring you here." Manwë’s tone was implacable though there was an undertone of pity to it.

That stopped Námo cold. "What?"

Manwë nodded. "He told me to bring you here," Manwë said with as much compassion as he could. "You need to face this memory, Námo. This was the beginning. This is where Melkor declared war on you. Do you not remember?"

Námo stared about him, seeing the remnants of a supernova. He couldn’t understand why he felt such terror at the sight, and yet he did. He started to deny any memory of the place but then something opened within him and the sense of horror and shame and other emotions he could put no name to flooded him, caused him to scream and scream until he thought he would never stop.

He tried to flee but minds more powerful than his held him in place and indeed such was his terror that he could not have formulated any coordinates to flee anywhere. Vaguely he heard the others call to him, try to soothe him, but he did not recognize either their voices or his name; he was too wrapped up in pain to make any sense of anything beyond the immediate terror. Finally, exhaustion took over and he found himself in Aulë and Ulmo’s hold once again. He was whimpering, appalled at the sounds he was making, yet not able to stop himself. It took him some time to understand the conversation that was being held around him, though he could still put no names to the voices.

".... said that Atar wanted him here."

"He did."

"He’s not taking this well."

"You think?"

"What was supposed to happen?"

"I don’t know, but that wasn’t what I had expected."

"He’s denying the memory."

"He’s denying himself."

"I think this did more harm than good."

"He’s a Máhanaz, yet he’s acting like the least of the Máyar."

"Perhaps you should put him amongst the Máyar as you threatened until he’s ready to face his fears like an Ayanuz and a Máhanaz."

"Yet, who would accept his oath, or trust it?"

There was silence afterwards that seemed to last an eternity to Námo’s mind as he held himself still, fearing the answer to that question, wondering if that would indeed be his fate.

"I would."

With those words, spoken quietly by Oromë (for he now recognized at least one of the voices) he broke down again, weeping in shame and defeat. He felt himself being released from the hold of the others and then another wrapping himself around him, sending calming thoughts of unconditional love and acceptance. He barely registered the words that were spoken thereafter by someone he still could not identify.

"We’ll leave them for now. Come, we still have work to do."

At that all the other presences were gone from his mind, save the one that held him. Oromë. He realized it was Oromë and in his desolation wondered what it would feel like to take oath to this one. Would Oromë’s Máyar accept him, and what of his own People? How would they survive without him? The thought of having to give over his Máyar to another was so devastating that he started weeping in earnest again, struggling to escape Oromë’s embrace.

"Hush now, brother," Oromë said to him. "It won’t come to that, I promise you."

"Y-you said you wo-would t-take my oath...."

"And I would, if I needed to," Oromë replied, "but I won’t need to, Námo. Do you know why?"

"Wh-why?"

"Because I already have it," came the whisper of an answer.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Námo asked in confusion, thinking perhaps he had indeed given oath to Oromë already only he was blocking the memory just as he was blocking... no! he would not think about that.

"Shush," Oromë admonished him, holding him tighter. "It is not what you think. I only meant that you gave me your fealty the first time you allowed me to guard you as you slept when we were in the tenth dimension. You gave me your trust then and I have sought never to abuse it."

Námo thought about that for a time, then sighed. "I failed, didn’t I? I failed Atar and...."

"You haven’t failed, Námo," Oromë said. "I don’t think Atar actually expected you to succeed in facing what you need to face immediately, but he must have decided you needed a little push."

"Why?" Námo’s confusion was evident in the yellowish tinge of his aura.

"You need to face your memories of the times you and Melkor...."

"No!" Námo struggled out of Oromë’s embrace. "No."

Oromë’s expression was one of deep sorrow and compassion, so much so that Námo found he could not look upon the other Máhanaz, settling his gaze instead upon the wreckage of the supernova all around them. "Yes, Námo," Oromë said with total conviction. "You will have to face those memories, but you need not face them alone. I will be there and others, if you will allow them."

"Oh, Oromë," he whispered, his expression bleak, "why can I not be strong like you?"

"And who says you’re not?" Oromë asked, wrapping himself around the younger Ayanuz to offer him comfort. "Do not give into despair, Little Brother. Trust that Atar loves you, as do I, as do we all."

Námo sighed. "Vairë was right," he said, his voice full of self-loathing. "I am an idiot. I should never have...."

"Hush," Oromë admonished him. "There is no point in playing ‘what if’. You did what you did and things happened. They could have happened to any of us. Melkor might well have entrapped you at a different time and place. Concentrate on what is, brother. You’re here safe with your family and not Melkor’s captive, or worse, his thrall."

Námo thought about that for a time, then nodded, still feeling as if he’d let everyone down, including himself, including Atar. That last hurt the most, that he might have let Atar down. Oromë divined his thoughts and hugged him closer. "You can never disappoint me, Námo, nor Atar. Be at peace, brother. Know that we love you too much to allow you to disappoint us."

"Thank you," Námo responded with deep sincerity.

"Now, why don’t we leave this place and go somewhere else?" Oromë said, his aura brightening to its normal copper orange.

"Where do you suggest?"

"Ah.... actually I was wondering if you could give me a hand with something."

Námo gave Oromë a searching look, for the other Máhanaz had sounded almost apologetic. "What?"

"Well, I’m... well the truth is..."

"Oromë, you’re stammering."

The future Lord of Forests and Hunter of Evil laughed self-consciously. "So I am." He took hold of himself and started again, locking gazes with Námo, his expression serious. "I’m not good at the planetary sciences, especially the inner dynamics. I was wondering if you could help me there."

Námo looked at him in surprise. "You know more about that sort of thing than I," he protested.

"Just the surface geometry and geophysics, not any of the deeper aspects of designing worlds," Oromë said dismissively. "I really wanted your... aesthetic opinion."

For a long time Námo just stared at Oromë, wondering what his fellow Máhanaz’s motivations were. Still, he was just intrigued enough not to dismiss his brother out of hand. Besides, he owed Oromë for believing in him, so the least he could do....

"Let’s away from here and you can tell me what you’re having trouble with."

Oromë smiled at him and sent him a certain set of coordinates and they were gone, leaving the remnants of a star and dark memories behind.

22: Diversions and Ambuscades

It turned out that Oromë was thinking of creating a tri-planetary system. Not a system of one large planet and two satellites, but a system of three dwarf planets all orbiting along a single barycenter. There were also two smaller satellites as well, making for a complicated celestial dance. Námo was impressed with Oromë’s vision but had his doubts about the feasibility.

"I was thinking of placing it in the farthest regions of the system," Oromë said as the two surveyed what that Vala had accomplished to date.

"An ambitious project," Námo opined. "So what is it you want me to help you with?"

Oromë pointed to the two smaller dwarf planets. "I can’t seem to get them to cooperate and orbit along a common barycenter with this larger planet."

Námo examined the system with a critical eye. "I think your problem lies in where you want these two smaller worlds to orbit the larger. Look here," he exerted his will upon the three worlds, moving the two smaller ones a further distance away from the larger planet. "Let these two orbit around their own barycenter and then have their combined gravitation attraction be used to create a secondary barycenter with the larger world. You were placing them in different orbits and I think that’s where you were having trouble."

Oromë stood beside Námo and watched the younger Ayanuz manipulate the worlds, moving the two smaller dwarf planets, now orbiting each other, just far enough out from the third world so that a second stable barycenter was created. Námo was so intent on his task that he didn’t notice the change in Oromë’s aura which indicated pleased amusement.

"There," Námo said with a look of satisfaction. "Now, where were you thinking of putting these two worldlets?"

Oromë pointed. "I was thinking of having them orbit the larger world. What do you think?"

Námo spent some time contemplating the worlds. "It would be rather interesting to see if we couldn’t get at least one to orbit all three worlds." He gave Oromë a brilliant smile and the older Ayanuz laughed.

"That’s more celestial engineering than I care to contemplate. Aulë or Ulmo might be able to figure out the calculus for such an orbit, but I think I’ll just stick to having them orbit one or the other of the worlds."

"Well, then, let them orbit the larger planetoid," Námo said and that’s what they did.

When they were finished, the two Ayanumuz stepped back to examine their handiwork. Oromë nodded, pleased with what they had wrought. "It’s beautiful, don’t you think?" he asked.

Námo turned to Oromë, his aura a steady violet. "You really didn’t need my help, did you?"

Oromë’s own orange hue darkened somewhat in embarrassment. "I just thought if you were occupied with something it would take your mind off... things."

For a long time Námo said nothing, simply watching the five globes create a stately pavane between them. When he spoke he refused to look at Oromë. "Manwë means to put me among your Máyar, doesn’t he?" His tone was expressionless, void of any emotion, and Oromë grieved at it.

"I don’t know, Námo," he answered truthfully. "I do not know what the Eldest has planned for you."

"If he does," Námo whispered, his attention solely on the worlds before them, "wh-what will you do to me?"

"I won’t do anything to you, Námo," Oromë replied, stressing the word ‘to’. "I will do something with you, but just what, I do not know. I suggest you not borrow trouble. Manwë hasn’t decided anything yet. Until he does, you are still an Ayanuz and a Máhanuz. Try to remember that and act accordingly."

"What would happen to my own People if Manwë decides to... to punish me?" Námo asked, fearing the answer yet needing to know. He loved his Máyar even more since returning to Eä, for they had given him back what he had most needed at the time: self-respect and unconditional love.

Oromë wrapped himself around Námo and sent him thoughts of comfort. "I think Manwë would hold their oaths himself until such time as you were ready to receive them back. Yet, none of this has happened, Námo. Do not fret over what is only a possibility, not a probability. You are still Lord to your People."

Námo leaned into Oromë’s embrace. "I was so terrified," he whispered, "but I didn’t know why. Do you think Atar is... is disappointed in me?"

"Nay, Little Brother," Oromë responded, giving Námo a tight squeeze and a kiss. "You can never disappoint Atar, you know that. Now come, let us hence. Why don’t we find Vairë and you two can show me what you’ve been working on together."

Námo allowed himself to be led away and soon the two were seeking Vairë across the cosmos.

****

Manwë and Varda met with Irmo and Nienna to discuss their brother. They gathered inside a nebula of rising gas pillars in shades of ochre, salmon and umber backlit by bluish-green dust clouds. The pillars appeared to spread out as if a creature were rising on wings and Manwë always enjoyed coming here to ruminate and reflect. Now it was a place of deep discussion about a single subject: Námo. For a time the four of them idly watched as young stars burst from the molecular clouds surrounding them to join their fellows in the cosmos.

Finally, Irmo broke the silence. "So, what are you going to do?"

"What do you think I should do?" Manwë asked.

Brother and sister shared uneasy looks, unable to offer any suggestions. Manwë sighed and looked to Varda, who sent him a private thought of support and love through their bond.

"He needs to face what happened," Manwë finally said when no one else ventured to speak.

"But is forcing the issue helping any?" Irmo asked with no little anger. "He was terrified, Manwë, more terrified than I’ve ever seen him. Are you going to punish him for an inability to face his most horrendous memories? You saw what Melkor did to him and I suspect we will never fully learn the truth of that from either of them."

"Irmo is correct, Manwë," Nienna interjected. "Námo’s been through enough without us making it worse for him."

"Yet, Atar seems to think he needs to face these memories now," Varda stated with equanimity. "We cannot ignore his wishes in this."

"I’m not saying that," Irmo objected. "I’m saying we need to... to approach this in a different way. He needs to know that we do not condemn him for failing to remember when we want him to."

"Forcing him to confront his memories of Melkor will only drive him further away," Nienna said. She gave Manwë a piercing glance, her tone rising in anger. "Is that what you want, Manwë? Are you intent on seeing our brother humiliated further by demoting him to Máyar status while his own People are forced to watch, helpless to intervene? Is that what you wish for him, for all of them?"

Manwë’s aura never shifted, remaining the same steady blue hue it always was. If he was upset by Nienna’s accusation, he gave no sign. Irmo’s aura shifted, indicating deep distress, but he remained silent. "No, Nienna," Manwë finally said, "it is not what I want, what any of us want, but if necessary...."

"And who determines when it is necessary?" Irmo asked with a scowl. "He’s our brother. I think we should have some say as to how you intend to punish him."

Manwë gave them both a measuring look. "Is that how you see me, as someone who metes out punishment to wayward Ayanumuz and Máyar?"

Brother and sister looked distraught at that and their aurae darkened in denial. "No," Nienna finally said, her expression one of deep sorrow. "We know that is not who you are, but we just don’t want our brother to be hurt any more than he already is."

"Nor do I," Manwë replied gently. "Yet, I am the Eldest, appointed by Atar to be his vice-gerent in Eä. As much as I would like to do otherwise, I find myself forced to confront certain realities, one of which is your brother."

"Oromë may be the key," Varda interjected suddenly and the other three gave her their undivided attention. "Námo seems to accept Oromë in a way that he does no one else, even his own brother and sister. I do not know why, but perhaps we should exploit that."

"How?" Irmo asked.

"What if Oromë agrees to be the one to encourage Námo to confront his memories?" Varda explained. "Námo might feel more willing to do so without an audience."

"Oromë takes Námo under his governance without any formal oathgiving on Námo’s part," Manwë said, thinking aloud. He fell into contemplation and the other three watched several newborn stars emerge from the gas clouds while waiting for the Eldest to speak. "So be it," Manwë finally said. The others returned their attention to him. "We will let Oromë deal with this. Námo will continue to be counted among the Ayanuz and his People will remain with him... for now. I reserve the right to change my mind and Námo’s status if I feel it is warranted."

The other three indicated their consent. "Will you tell Oromë, then?" Nienna asked.

"There is no need," Manwë said with a brightening of his aura to indicate amusement. "I discussed all this with him some time ago. I anticipated Námo’s reaction when we attempted to force him to remember."

"If you already knew he would act that way..." Irmo started to say, then stopped, not sure how to respond to the implications of Manwë’s words.

"Only that there was a strong possibility that he would react as he did," Manwë said. "With that in mind, Oromë and I discussed our options and he agreed to take on the task of encouraging Námo to remember. I sincerely hope it works," he added with a sigh, "for time is short and I fear another confrontation with our Fallen Brother is imminent."

None of them looked at all comfortable with that notion.

****

The confrontation came sooner than any of them anticipated or hoped.

The stars in the Children’s galaxy had shifted several degrees when Námo and Oromë happened to be wandering through the cosmos checking on pockets of Chaos. Oromë was beginning to recognize when and where such pockets would develop and he became increasingly expert in hunting them out, even when Námo was sure that such pockets did not exist. The two of them had become even closer than before and their Máyar were beginning to learn to work together in fulfilling their Masters’ bidding. The two of them were re-entering the local group of galaxies centered around the Children’s galaxy and their own home galaxy when the attack came.

"So when are you and Vána going to espouse?" Námo asked Oromë as they skirted an area of dense dark matter illumined against the bright sea of stars that surrounded it.

"Why?" Oromë retorted in amusement. "Are you thinking of asking Vairë?"

Námo gave his companion a surprised look. "Vairë? Why would I ask Vairë?"

"Well you two seem to like one another and if you’re not with me you’re usually with her, so I just thought...."

"Well, we hardly know each other...." Námo started to explain but he never finished his thought.

Suddenly, out of the dark matter several figures emerged: flame-wreathed they were with whips of fire. Námo and Oromë both froze in shock as six of Melkor’s servants surrounded them. Námo shrank against Oromë with a whimper of dread. One of the fiery beings smiled evilly and came closer.

"Ah, little Námo," he said, his voice a dark velvety purr of anticipated delight at the pain he was about to inflict on his victims, "you left us so soon, and we never got to finish... playing our little game." The Dark Máya laughed and his fellows joined him. It was a sickening sound that left the two Ayanumuz feeling sullied to the core of their fëar.

Then Námo’s aura went completely into the ultraviolet when he saw Melkor emerging from the dark clouds to join them and now he and Oromë understood why they had been unable to flee the scene: Melkor’s own will was keeping them in place. The Fallen One motioned for two of his servants, including the one who had spoken, to grab Námo.

"Leave him be, Rushurithir," Oromë demanded, recognizing the one who had spoken, for he had once been of his own People before forswearing his oath to follow Melkor. The Ayanuz attempted to fight the Máyar off Námo but then three of them converged on him and held him down.

"Or what?" Rushurithir demanded with a sneer as he helped drag a petrified Námo before Melkor. "I don’t take orders from you any more Oromë so unless you want my Master to do to you what he intends to do to our little Ayanuz here, keep quiet." He reached out and caressed Námo, kissing him with a tenderness that was obscene in its travesty. "Come, Little One. It’s time to play."

"Rushurithir is correct, my lover," Melkor crooned darkly. "It is indeed time to play." He reached out to embrace his victim when Námo’s aura went suddenly incandescent.

"ATAR!" he screamed with all his might. "ATAR!"

Before anyone could react, several bright beings emerged in the space around the ambush. All of Námo’s and Oromë’s People as well as Manwë and Aulë and their People were there. Chaos ensued as the Dark Máyar attempted to fight or flee. Melkor screamed in rage at being thwarted of his prey and attempted to take Námo but Oromë had thrown off his own captors and was now wrestling with Melkor, his own aura a brilliant orange that blinded the Fallen One as he sought to protect his younger brother. Námo’s own aura remained nearly white and he was screaming.

"NEVER AGAIN, MELKOR! NEVER AGAIN!"

Melkor shrieked again, spewing hatred, before fleeing back into the dark matter along with his servants. The Máyar started to follow but Manwë recalled them even as he and Aulë converged on Oromë and Námo. Oromë’s aura had calmed to his usual steady orange but Námo was still incensed and his aura pulsated with white and violet hues, sometimes going dark altogether as he slipped towards the ultraviolet or going in the opposite direction towards the red as his anger consumed him. Oromë was holding him tightly, trying to soothe him.

"It’s all right, Námo," he said. "It’s all right. They’re gone. Calm down now, calm down... that’s it... all is well... there is naught to fear.... calmly, Little Brother."

Manwë took Námo in his own embrace and rocked him. "That’s it, Námo, all is well. They’re gone... Melkor’s gone. It’s over, child, it’s over."

It took some time before Námo calmed down but eventually he became quiescent and finally his aura’s pulsing slowed to more acceptable frequencies and his normal steady violet became predominate. When Manwë was sure that Námo was calm enough, he released his hold on him.

"Are you well now, Námo?" he asked solicitously.

"H-he was going t-to...." Námo stuttered. "I c-couldn’t let him do wh-what he wanted... n-not again... never again." He collapsed into Manwë’s embrace and wept. Oromë and Aulë gathered around the two of them and offered their own support to their brother while their Máyar ringed them, facing outward, as much to give them some semblance of privacy as to keep watch.

One by one the other Ayanumuz appeared within the ring of Máyar until all twelve were there to offer what comfort they could to their damaged brother. Oromë started humming the lullaby that Atar had sung to Námo in the tenth dimension. Soon they were all singing it as Manwë continued to hold Námo, who eventually succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep.

****

Note: The nebula where Manwë and Varda meet with Irmo and Nienna is the Eagle Nebula (M16), an appropriate place considering Manwë’s eventual emblem. It is also a stellar nursery. You may see photos of this at http://hubblesite.org/gallery/album/entire_collection/pr1995044a/ and http://hubblesite.org/gallery/album/entire_collection/pr1995044b/.

23: The First Council of Manwë

Námo woke to find himself still in Manwë’s embrace with Varda and Oromë on either side of them. The other Ayanumuz were ranged in a circle around them with a second outer ring of Máyar keeping watch. Manwë gave Námo a smile.

"Feeling better?" Manwë asked.

"Yes," Námo answered, though his tone was devoid of emotion. He pulled himself out of Manwë’s embrace, taking in the scene. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"We came as soon as we heard your screams," Varda said. Námo’s aura went green with embarrassment, but Varda merely smiled. "Do not be ashamed, Námo," she told him. "You did the right thing, calling upon Atar. Your doing so allowed us to act."

Námo looked at Varda and Manwë with confusion. "I don’t understand," he said. "You would have let Melkor take me if I hadn’t...."

"Nay, child," Manwë said soothingly. "What my beloved means is that your calling upon Atar opened the way for us to act and to take the war to Melkor. Our Fallen Brother means to disrupt the creation of Atháraphelun for all that he also craves to rule it. You know this." Námo’s aura brightened slightly, indicating assent. "Melkor’s ambush was an attempt to forestall us, but it failed, because you refused him purchase. By calling upon Atar as you did, you have taken ownership of your own healing without the shadow of our Fallen Brother hovering over you."

"At the same time," Varda added, "now that we know you will not allow yourself to fall prey to Melkor’s seductions, we can concentrate our energies towards more useful endeavors besides guarding you."

"Is that what you’ve all been doing, guarding me?" Námo asked, looking at Oromë as he spoke.

"Say rather, we have made sure you were never out of our sight," Oromë replied smoothly. "We love you too much, my brother, to allow Melkor his way with you, but ultimately you had to take the first step in refusing him."

"We were never sure what hold Melkor might have over you, Námo," Manwë continued. "We needed to be sure that he had not suborned you."

"B-but would I not know?" Námo asked in confusion.

"My brother is great in the arts of Mind and Will, Námo," Manwë explained. "He could easily have overwhelmed your own will in such a way that you would not remember, but at a critical time, you would have turned on us, for you would have been his slave, even unknowingly."

Námo’s aura deepened in distress. "That time when I attacked Irmo... you thought I was... was acting for Melkor. You thought I was... already his?"

Manwë nodded. "The thought crossed our minds, but your own horror and remorse at what you had done convinced us that in that instance, at least, you were merely suffering from a flashback, nothing more. It did not, however, negate the possibility that in a future time you would betray us, however unwittingly."

"I’m never going to be free of him, am I?" Námo asked dejectedly, his aura dimming further.

Manwë took him in his embrace. "You don’t understand, child. The moment you called upon Atar you were forever free of him. He no longer has a hold on you. You’re free, Námo, though I suspect it will take a while for it to sink in."

"Free?" Námo asked. "I’m free?"

"Yes, my son," Manwë said with a sigh. "You’re free."

For a long moment Námo did not speak, merely allowing Manwë to hold him and comfort him. "Why don’t I feel as if I’m free?" he finally asked, his tone emotionless.

"As I said, it may take time for that reality to sink in, but believe it to be true, child." Manwë pulled out of the embrace to give the younger Ayanuz a loving look. "Welcome back, Námo," he said with all sincerity, giving him a kiss.

Then Varda took him in her embrace and gave him her own kiss, echoing Manwë’s words of welcome. After that the other Ayanumuz came and embraced Námo, each one welcoming back their brother, knowing that he was truly with them again. Oromë was the last to embrace him and the two held one another for some time, for by now Námo was overcome with emotion at the love and care that he felt from his brothers and sisters. It did not escape the notice of any of the Ayanumuz that the aurae of Námo’s People, helping to guard their Masters along with the other Máyar, went incandescent with pride and joy.

****

"I am calling a Council," Manwë stated to them before they disbanded to go about their usual tasks. The ring of Máyar had already been dismissed, leaving only the Ayanumuz. "The construction of Atháraphelun is going well, however, I am concerned about security. I believe Melkor is feeling desperate, else he would not have risked such a blatant ambush as he did."

"What do you hope to accomplish in this Council, that has not been decided already?" Oromë asked in curiosity. "We have all the Máyar on high alert. They are as prepared for an attack as they can be."

"Perhaps," Manwë conceded, "but there are other considerations that must needs be addressed. Therefore, you may all bring one of your People to Máhanumazphelun when I call for you. Choose wisely who you will have with you for we know that some of our People may be secretly in sympathy with Melkor."

"When choosing who among your Máyar will accompany you," Varda warned them, "consider their wisdom rather than their position. Your Chief Máya may well be suitable for this Council, but others there may be in your train who are perhaps wiser and... less haughty."

"We are aware of the hierarchical nature of our People in their dealings with one another," Manwë added. "I think that is also a topic we must discuss, for we cannot allow those who came forth from Atar’s Thoughts earlier than others to lord it over them. There may be a need for a chain of command but that chain should not be so strict as to bind us into a state of incapacity. I fear we must be more flexible in order that we may succeed in the mission that Atar has given us."

The others indicated their understanding of the Eldest’s instructions and then they were gone, except for Manwë, Varda, Námo and Oromë. For a time none of them spoke, then Manwë gave Námo a considering look. "What do you remember of the changing of the variable?"

"Everything," Námo exclaimed. "It was, oddly enough, one of the first memories that resurfaced while I was still hiding in the tenth dimension, though I did not understand its meaning. I only knew it was something not to be spoken of to anyone."

"You understand its significance now, though," Manwë stated. Námo indicated agreement. "Good, that’s good. At the Council we will determine the exact moment when the variable is to change. This is going to take massive coordination and cooperation amongst all of us." He paused and his aura, always a steady blue, deepened towards indigo, indicating deep thought, and possibly communion with Atar. The others remained respectfully quiet. Finally, Manwë’s aura returned to its normal hue. "I do not know if our ruse will work. Melkor must know we are planning something, but we must continue to act as if building the flat Atháraphelun is as Atar desires. To that end, Námo, I’m going to leave you to your own devices. When the time comes for the changing of the variable, you will be on your own with only your Máyar by your side. You will, in fact, be the only one of us not guarding the false Atháraphelun. Do you understand what I am asking of you, my son?"

Námo’s aura shifted slightly towards blue, indicating mild distress. "You want Melkor wondering why I’m not with you and perhaps dividing his forces between attacking the flat Atháraphelun and searching for me."

Manwë gave him a sympathetic look. "It is not an easy thing I ask of you, Námo, I know, but it is a necessary thing. Melkor’s forces are an unknown. I do not know how many of us he suborned before ever leaving the Timeless Halls. Not all who came with us stayed by us but fled into the vast reaches of the wastelands that we found when we first entered Eä. I want Melkor’s forces to be divided, either fruitlessly searching for you or attacking the false Atháraphelun. I want Melkor occupied, either with you or with our diversion, so he is unaware of what we are truly planning."

"Where should I hide?"

"You mistake me, child," Manwë said gently. "I want Melkor’s People to find you, but only at the very end when it’s too late. Your People will have to do their best to protect you."

"I don’t want them protecting me!" Námo said with some heat, his aura shifting towards the red spectrum. "I should be protecting them."

"Peace, Námo," Oromë said, taking the younger Ayanuz into his embrace. "You and I both know that alone you have the power to protect your People without half trying, but Manwë wants Melkor to believe you are still weak and unsure of yourself. Let your People play their part in the ruse."

"Melkor was able to keep you and me in one place by the force of his will," Námo retorted. "My People have no hope of stopping him from taking me if he so desires."

"I do not believe it will come to that, Námo," Manwë then said. "Melkor’s attention is going to be on our diversion. I have every intention of making it a spectacle and one thing I know about my brother is that he loves spectacles. He will want to be there so he may gloat when he supposedly has the victory over me. You should have no problem handling whichever of his People he sends after you."

Námo scowled. "I like it not," he declared, "but I appear not to have a choice in the matter."

"I regret this, Námo," Manwë said sorrowfully, "but I see no other way for us to succeed in establishing Atháraphelun without Melkor’s interference. Keeping his attention on two separate events means he’s not watching out for a third and we need his attention divided. In spite of what happened here, I do not think our Fallen Brother will give up his plans for you all too quickly. He will want to wreak his revenge upon you if nothing else."

Námo shuddered, knowing all too well just what kind of revenge Melkor would most likely take, but he finally agreed to Manwë’s plans. At that, the other three Ayanumuz went their separate ways while Námo remained behind, deep in thought.

****

The stars of the Children’s galaxy barely shifted a degree before Manwë called for his Council. When Námo arrived at the planet of meeting with his Chief Máya, Maranwë, he was intrigued to see whom the other Ayanumuz had brought. He was unsurprised to see that Therindë was with Vairë, or that Ulmo had brought Salmar. Nessa brought her own Chief Máya, Talmavar, while Irmo and Estë, even though not officially espoused, had pooled their People together and brought with them Melyanna and a young Máya named Ingil. Námo was not familiar with Ingil but Maranwë assured him that the Máya was very capable and, more importantly, loyal to both Irmo and Estë. Námo was amused to see that Oromë and Vána arrived together with Roimendil and Arien with them. He was surprised to see his sister Nienna with Tiutalion, for he just assumed that she would bring her own Chief Máya, Pallando, but he figured she had her reasons and dismissed it from his mind. The biggest surprise was Aulë and Yavanna’s choice. Cemendillë, Yavanna’s Chief Máya, was unsurprising, but that the other Máya was Aiwendil was. Námo liked Aiwendil, for he was an unassuming Máya, yet there was a deep inner core of profound wisdom coupled with a deprecating sense of humor that Námo found endearing. Contrary to expectations, though, Manwë and Varda appeared with three Máyar, rather than two: Eönwë, Olórin and Manveru.

"Eönwë is here as our official recorder of this Council," Manwë explained. "As such, he will remain completely impartial to the proceedings and will have no input."

Námo accepted that and fastened his attention on the other two Máyar. Manveru he knew, for he and Erunáro, his brother in the Thought of Atar, had often guarded his sleep when he first returned to Eä from the tenth dimension. Olórin he knew less well, but liked what he saw. The Máya seemed insatiable for new experiences, yet he was quite humble in his demeanor, listening more than speaking, and when offering his opinion, taking care with his thoughts and being as precise as possible so there was no mistaking his meaning. Námo had thought the Máya might even have taken oath to him once, but instead Olórin had cleaved to Manwë. He appeared happy in his choice.

Manwë greeted everyone by name, including the other Máyar, welcoming them to the Council. "The time draws near when Atháraphelun will be ready," he said without preamble. "Even now, the Máyar are putting in the finishing touches. I am well pleased with our progress. What we need to do now is coordinate our movements and those of our People, for I doubt me not that Melkor means to disrupt us in some fashion, whether to destroy Atháraphelun altogether or to take it for himself. So, let us devise our strategies and contingencies."

The debate was long and at one time it even became heated when Talmavar made disparaging remarks towards the words spoken by Ingil, who, as the youngest amongst them, was accused of speaking out of turn. Manwë addressed that situation immediately.

"I do not know who devised this hierarchy amongst the Máyar," the Eldest said coldly, "but I tell you plainly that we Ayanumuz are not best pleased with it. All are equal before us and before Atar. Even we Ayanumuz do not lord it over one another but treat one another as peers. The Máyar need to do the same."

"How then are we to know our place, Lord?" Talmavar asked querulously. "Those of us who are the Chief Máyar...."

"Are not always the oldest amongst you, are they?" Irmo interrupted mildly. "If we choose one amongst you to lead our People it is out of convenience rather than necessity. None of us who are Ayanumuz are so feeble of will that we cannot control you all with a single negligent thought." The aurae of every Máya there darkened in distress at that revelation. "We have usually chosen those who act as our Chief Máya for any number of reasons which need not be stated here."

"Look around you, Talmavar," his mistress ordered, as Nessa pointed out the other Máyar. "Not everyone here is the Chief Máya of their masters and mistresses. Does that not tell you something?"

Talmavar made his obeisance to his mistress, begging forgiveness for his presumption, which Nessa graciously gave. Most of the other Máyar, even Ingil, appeared uncomfortable seeing one of their fellows being reprimanded for something they had not thought to be a problem. Námo noticed that only Eönwë and Maranwë seemed unaffected by what had occurred. Eönwë’s aura never shifted from its pearlescent white and Námo marveled at the Máya’s ability to remain completely neutral. Maranwë’s normally sedate indigo aura, on the other hand, brightened, indicating satisfaction. Námo decided that later he would have to speak to his Chief Máya about it. He had the feeling that Maranwë was not happy with the power struggles of his fellows. He, himself, was not even the oldest among Námo’s own People, yet Námo had never detected any animosity between his Máyar because of it.

Manwë then spoke. "This matter will be discussed at a later time," he intoned. "At the moment, we have more pressing concerns. Ulmo and I have devised a strategy that should offer us the optimum leverage against Melkor." He paused and with a single thought brought to light the original model of the flat Atháraphelun and it’s surroundings. "So, as to the deployment of the Máyar, we have decided that Aulë and Yavanna’s People will be situated thirty degrees from galactic north along this line of defense...."

In the end, all was agreed upon and the Máyar were given their instructions. "We will make it clear to your fellows that you who have been brought to this Council have our full confidence," Manwë concluded, "and we expect them to obey whatever orders you issue. The Chief Máyar who were not brought to the Council will be given other tasks worthy of their stations. We do not wish for them to feel slighted, but your Masters chose you to attend for qualities they felt were most needed. It does not make you superior to your brethren, for you are not. Each of you is gifted by Atar with different talents and we Ayanumuz will exploit them as we see fit for the betterment of all and in fulfillment of Atar’s designs for Eä."

With these words he dismissed the Máyar, except for Eönwë. Then, in an unprecedented move Manwë ordered them all to incarnate. That was the first time since the Council began that Eönwë evinced any emotion, his aura darkening towards yellow in confusion. Námo noticed in amusement that the Máya was the last to comply with Manwë’s orders while the Ayanumuz followed the Eldest in clothing themselves readily enough. Manwë smiled upon the Máya, gesturing for him to stand before his Lord and Lady.

"We are well pleased with the way thou hast carried out our directives, my child," Manwë said with a smile. "Thou hast comported thyself with great discretion and humility in all that we have commanded of thee and so, we wish to reward thee for thy service to us."

"I need no reward, my lord," Eönwë said, "save the joy of continuing to serve thee to the best of my ability."

"Nevertheless, my son," Manwë said, his eyes glowing with amusement, "it is our desire to... um... promote thee."

Eönwë went completely still, not sure what Manwë meant, for was he not his lord’s Chief Máya? In what way could he be promoted? He knew that he was not as powerful as even the least of the Ayanumuz, so he did not think that they would elevate him to that status. Manwë’s smile deepened as he saw the confusion on the Máya’s face.

"You have been our Chief Máya and will remain so for all time," the Eldest intoned gravely, though there was a substratum of joy in his words, "but we have decided to also make thee our Herald and the Captain of our Host whene’er we must needs go to war. On thee will be the burden of command. So thou seest, my child, it is not truly a reward I give to thee, but an additional obligation, though it is one we feel thou canst easily bear."

For a moment the Máya merely stood staring at Manwë, trying to grasp his lord’s words, then slowly he fell to his knees. "But who will record my oath, lord, that I give to thee? I cannot record my own oath."

"I will," Námo said, stepping forward, "for I am the Doomsayer and I speak the fate of Eä as Atar directs, so it is meet that I hold thine oath at this time."

"And ultimately, thine oath will be kept by Atar, himself, as well thou knowest," Manwë added.

Eönwë nodded, then raised his hands in an attitude of allegiance, while Manwë held them between his own hands. "As Atar is my witness, here do I, Eönwë, Chief Máya of the People of Manwë, renew my allegiance unto my Lord as I accept this additional burden and joy as Herald and Captain of the Host of the Ayanumuz. I pledge to thee, my Lord, my love and obedience in all things as thou dost direct that I may continue to serve thee faithfully and with felicity."

"And I will reward such faithfulness with love and any failings with forgiveness," Manwë said, "for thou’rt my child given to me in trust by Atar for all time and beyond." He stooped down and lifted the Máya to his feet, embracing him and kissing him with the tenderness of a father towards his son.

No one was surprised to see Eönwë’s cheeks wet with tears as each of the other Ayanumuz took their turn in embracing the Máya and offering him their own blessings.

24: Feint and Counterfeint

"You understand what you and your brethren must do?" Námo asked Maranwë.

"Aye, lord," the Máya answered doubtfully, "little though we like it."

"Neither do I," Námo replied, "but Manwë has so ordered it and we will obey him to the best of our abilities. I’m counting on you, Maranwë, you and the others. We must allow Melkor’s People to think we are easy prey without actually getting caught."

Maranwë sighed but otherwise did not protest his lord’s words. "We will do all in our power to see that you are not taken again, lord," he promised.

"Be sure that in protecting me you do not endanger yourselves," Námo warned. "I will not have any of you Children captured in my place. You do not know of what my Fallen Brother is truly capable."

Maranwë’s aura darkened at that thought and he indicated his understanding before bowing to Námo and joining his brethren on the edge of the star system where all were gathered. Manwë was giving last minute instructions of his own. Námo waited until the Eldest was finished speaking with Aulë and Ulmo before joining them.

"My People and I are ready... or as ready as we’ll ever be," Námo told them.

Manwë gave him a brief hug. "You will do well, brother," he said. "We... all of us have every faith in you and your People."

"Do you know what you will do?" Ulmo asked Námo, curious as to what plans their younger brother had made.

Námo gave them a wry smile. "Why, I’m going to give my People a lesson in tracking down their errant lord that will do Oromë proud."

The aurae of the others brightened in various shades of blue, red-orange and purple-green in amusement.

"Just don’t get so caught up in the fun and games that you forget to watch for my signal," Manwë warned him with a mock scowl.

"Perish the thought," Námo quipped with a smile. "Shall we start the show?"

"Yes, let us begin," the Eldest intoned and with a negligent thought, clued in the other Ayanumuz to what was about to transpire. He then sent a brief private thought to Námo.

Suddenly, Námo’s aura went from pure violet to reddish-purple and then nearly scarlet while at the same time he started screaming on all wavelengths. "I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY, MANWË! I’m through being treated as if I’m less than nothing!"

"Námo!" Manwë shouted nearly as loud, "if you don’t behave yourself I will demote you to serving Oromë’s least Máya for all the Ages of Atháraphelun’s existence."

"Only if you catch me first!" Námo exclaimed, then made a rude noise, shot an electromagnetic bolt at Manwë, Aulë and Ulmo, all of whom flinched convincingly while yelling invectives at their brother, before disappearing.

Manwë turned to Námo’s People with a scowl. "If you value your lord’s status as an Ayanuz, you will find him and bring him back to me."

Before Maranwë could offer Manwë an apology and assent, Námo appeared in their midst, though now close to Vairë and, giving them all a manic laugh, grabbed her and disappeared again. Vairë’s shrieks, quite genuine, were cut off. For a brief moment no one moved, then Manwë addressed Maranwë again, his tone soft and deadly. "You have your orders."

Maranwë and Námo’s other Máyar gave the Eldest their obeisance and then went after their lord, following a pre-arranged route devised beforehand. In the meantime, the other Ayanumuz gathered together. Manwë gave them all a wry look. "That last wasn’t in the plan." He spoke to them on a frequency none of the Máyar would be able to detect.

Oromë chuckled. "Trust Námo to change the rules of the game midway."

"Well, it may just add additional verisimilitude to this charade," Ulmo suggested.

"Perhaps," Varda drawled, "but I suspect that when this is over Vairë is going to do things to our Námo Melkor never even thought of."

They were all hard-pressed not to laugh at that, needing to maintain their images of being distressed and upset for the benefit of the Máyar and any of Melkor’s spies lurking about.

"Well, Námo is doing his part," Manwë said. "It’s time for us to do ours." With that, he gave the signal and they all thought themselves to the place where the flat Atháraphelun waited to be brought into completed form.

****

"NÁMO!!! You idiot!" Vairë screamed, her indigo aura turning a sickly orange-green indicating mingled rage and fear as she struggled in Námo’s embrace. They were hovering over one of Varda’s Black Holes somewhere in a distant galaxy far from their home. "What did you do that for? That’s not what we planned."

"Hush, Beloved," Námo said with a kiss that did not in any way mollify her. "You’ll spoil the game."

"What did you call me?" Vairë asked, shocked out of her anger by the unexpected endearment.

"Well, you are, aren’t you? My beloved, I mean." Námo retorted with an innocent look.

"You’ve never given me any indication that you even remembered what we had... before," she responded weakly.

"And for that I truly apologize, my love," Námo said soothingly. "It has only been recently that I was able to make any emotional connection between what you told me and what I remembered about us. I’m sorry it has taken so long, but...."

"Nay, Beloved," Vairë interrupted by kissing him. "I am only grateful that we’ve found each other once again."

For a long moment they reveled in each other’s embrace, then Vairë reared back and gave forth an electromagnetic bolt that was not at all gentle.

"Ow!" Námo nearly screamed, letting her go and giving her a look of disbelief. "What did you do that for?"

"For kidnapping me, you dolt!" she retorted. "The least you could have done was to warn me."

Námo gave her a sly look. "But then you wouldn’t have shrieked so prettily."

"Why you!" Vairë exclaimed in mock anger. "I’ll show you pretty!" and started to release another energy bolt but Námo merely took her into his embrace with a laugh and began kissing her with perhaps more passion than even he had intended. In moments, she was no longer thrashing to get loose but clinging to him as their aurae nearly mingled into incandescence. Finally, though, they parted by mutual consent, their senses reeling.

Námo was about to say something when Maranwë suddenly appeared, looking contrite. "My lord, you’re supposed to be hiding," he said in an embarrassed whisper. "My brethren and I could see you two... um... glowing from three star systems away with a dust cloud in between."

Both Ayanumuz gave the Máya bemused looks, then their aurae darkened in embarrassed chagrin, realizing what they had done. "Sorry," Námo whispered back. "We’ll go hide now."

Maranwë gave them both a brief bow and watched in amusement as they disappeared. Calimo, Tindomerel and Vanimeldë appeared, along with the rest of their brethren, all of them smiling. "I guess the rules of the game have changed again?" Calimo asked Maranwë slyly.

"Apparently," the Chief Máya of the People of Námo replied with a sigh. "Honestly, I can’t keep up any more."

They all laughed at that, knowing that Maranwë was enjoying himself more than he was letting on. He gave them all a wry look. "Well, shall we count to one billion and give them a good head start?"

"One... two... three... four..." Tindomerel started counting and they all joined in while doing a slow dance around the event horizon of the Black Hole to keep themselves amused.

****

Manwë and Varda situated themselves on the two points where the celestial equator and the equinoctial colure intersected, while Aulë and Ulmo did the same, situating themselves ninety degrees along the celestial equator where the solstitial colure intersected it. The rest of the Ayanumuz ranged themselves randomly along the ecliptic, with the flat world in the center. Arien was guiding the star around the world with great intent, which saddened Vána, for she hated to have had to deceive the Child. She vowed to herself that somehow she would make it up to her Máya. Meanwhile, the other Máyar were ranged in concentric rings with the inner circle consisting of Aulë and Yavanna’s People. Ulmo's and Nienna’s Máyar made up the second ring, while those belonging to Irmo, Estë and Vairë took up the third and fourth rings. Oromë's and Vána’s People were next with Manwë and Varda’s Máyar making up the outer ring. Manwë’s warriors were armed with swords of light and unlike the other Máyar, their gazes were outward in vigilance.

While the Máyar had given the false Atháraphelun its form, creating the structures that would support land and sea, it would take the Ayanumuz to bring life to the world and complete the final stages of its creation. Manwë gave the signal and both he and Varda began to Sing. Aulë and Ulmo joined them. One by one the circles of Máyar came into the Song as directed by their respective Ayanuz, although Irmo was the one to call Vairë’s People into the Song in her absence. They had been rather upset by their Mistress’s abduction, but Manwë and Varda assured them that no harm would come to their lady and to trust them.

Slowly, a force field was built around the world and an atmosphere began to form. Clouds came into existence, massing greatly until they let go and it began to rain great sheets of water that slowly began to fill the areas that marked the seas. Then the clouds dispersed and soon grasses were growing on the single landmass. All this time they kept up the Song, yet the Ayanumuz were only employing part of their wills in what they were doing, concentrating most of their attention on the expected attack they knew was coming.

Wild grasses and moss were giving way to small flowers and tiny insects on the world when the attack came. The first warning they had was a nearby sun going nova. The shock wave rolled towards them with frightening speed and behind it came Melkor and his army. The spirits with their fiery whips were in the vanguard, while darker Máyar followed. Melkor, Manwë noted with mingled amusement and disgust, stayed in the rear.

*I’m glad Vairë isn’t here,* Varda sent to him on their private frequency. *The sight of Acairis standing next to Melkor would probably have sent our sister over the edge.*

*Then we can thank Námo for thinking to abduct her,* Manwë chuckled even as he began issuing orders on the open frequency used by them all for communication. At once, the warrior Máyar, both Manwë’s and Oromë’s, formed a defensive ring along the celestial equator while the Ayanumuz split with half moving along the imaginary great circle that was the meridian towards the north celestial pole and the other half gathering around the south celestial pole. Everyone else remained where they were. The force field surrounding the world was doing more than keeping in the atmosphere, it would shield the world from any outside force, yet Varda was secretly weakening it so that eventually it would collapse. At that point they would withdraw from the field, leaving Melkor the supposed victory. The collapse of the force field was Námo’s signal to change the variable.

Even as Melkor’s troops moved forward to surround the Ayanumuz and Máyar Manwë directed energy bolts of incredible power into their midst, forcing them to scatter. They could all hear Melkor screaming and then he let loose his own energy bolt aimed directly at Manwë who was hovering above the world’s north pole. Manwë purposely allowed himself to be a target, intent on keeping Melkor too occupied to notice anything else. He was able to deflect the bolt without much effort.

*Is that the best you can do, Melkor?* he sent to Melkor, deliberately taunting him. Then, before Melkor could respond, Manwë sent another energy spike aimed, not at his Fallen Brother, but at Acairis, who was not expecting it. She shrieked in pain and dismay and without further ado fled into the wastelands of Eä.

By now the front of the shock wave had reached them and the Ayanumuz gathered their People in their Thoughts and protected them from the titanic forces of the cosmic storm tearing at them. Even occupied with keeping the Máyar safe, they were still able to strike at Melkor’s army, further scattering the front line.

*How long do we keep this up?* Aulë asked Manwë even as he tossed one of the fiery spirits from him with a negligent thought.

*Just long enough to appear convincing,* Manwë replied, then turned his attention to Vána. *My dear, alert Arien to be prepared to abandon her post when you give the signal.*

Vána acknowledged Manwë’s orders and the rest began to prepare themselves for their planned retreat. Slowly, a few at a time, the Máyar began to disappear at the orders of their Masters, pretending to flee the scene of battle. Eventually, only Manwë’s and Oromë’s People remained. Melkor was advancing towards them, his aura almost turning bright with obvious delight at his supposed victory.

*You’ve lost, Manwë,* Melkor sneered as he and several of his People began to surround Manwë, who had allowed himself to be separated from the other Ayanumuz. *I’m going to enjoy making you my personal slave. You and Námo both. And perhaps I’ll even give Varda to my lieutenant and make you watch.*

Manwë’s aura never wavered from its intensely calm blue, though Varda’s aura went stark white in fury at overhearing Melkor’s words. The future Elder King merely smiled at his Fallen Brother. *You have to catch us first,* he said. Then he sent a signal to the others and another to Námo and without another word thought himself away.

At the same moment the force field went down, Arien fled along with the rest of the Ayanumuz and Máyar and the star that she had been guiding so zealously exploded into a nova. Melkor was able to protect himself from it, but some of his People were not so lucky and while their fëar could not be destroyed, they were greatly diminished in power, weakened by the blast which sent most of them careening through the far reaches of Eä. A few even fell into nearby black holes never to be seen again.

Manwë re-emerged several star systems away as they had previously arranged to find Varda still incensed at Melkor’s words. He took her into his embrace and held her tightly, assuring her of his love for her. Reluctantly, Ulmo interrupted them.

"The beacons have not changed their positions," he said. "I fear something may have happened to Námo to prevent him from accomplishing his mission."

Manwë sighed. "It matters not when the beacons change, only that they do. Let us give him a little more time before we go after him."

"What if he needs our aid now?" Oromë asked.

Manwë shook his head. "We’ve not heard any call for help and even if Námo refuses or is unable to call for help, I gave Maranwë explicit orders to do so if he deemed it necessary."

"Then all we can do is wait and hope for the best," Aulë said.

"At least Vairë is with him this time," Varda said. "Together they make a formidable pair."

Manwë gave his spouse a warm smile and took her into his embrace again and kissed her. "Almost as formidable as the two of us."

Varda nodded, then sighed. "I still wish we knew what was happening with them."

"As do we all, beloved," Manwë answered with a sigh of his own. "As do we all."

****

Astronomical Note: The colure is either of the two principal meridians or great circles on the celestial sphere which pass through the two celestial poles and the two solstitial (summer and winter) and equinoctial (spring and autumn) points where they intersect the celestial equator. Thus, from an observer on the flat earth, Manwë would appear on the horizon directly east while Varda would be directly west. Aulë and Ulmo would be standing ninety-degrees from Manwë and Varda, with Aulë to the north and Ulmo to the south.

My thanks (again) to Misty for her kind assistance in helping me understand just where the solstitial colure lay relative to the equinoctial colure.

25: The Changing of the Variable

WARNING: Certain highly intense scenes related to warfare may prove disturbing to some readers.

****

Námo’s plan was to lead his People on a merry chase through Eä, making himself and them targets for Melkor’s minions without necessarily getting caught. He hoped to make himself a tempting enough target to draw a large number of Melkor’s People away from the fight with Manwë and the other Ayanumuz.

At least, that was the idea.

Naturally, it changed the moment it was put into action. Vairë’s ‘abduction’ was the first change. The second occurred when Maranwë and the other Máyar reached nine hundred million and thirty-seven in their counting. Suddenly, Dark Máyar emerged and attacked them. In truth, Námo’s People had not been keeping any real vigilance, so the attack came as something of a shock.

Maranwë wasted no time, however, in castigating himself for this lapse, but immediately sent a plea for help to his lord even as he rescued Tindomerel from being thrown into the Black Hole they’d been circling by one of the attackers. Energy bolts from both groups flashed soundlessly in the vacuum and several Máyar were stunned into immobility though none were seriously injured. Still, the attackers outnumbered Námo’s People by a factor of three; Maranwë and the others were hard-pressed to keep themselves from being herded past the event horizon and into oblivion.

That’s when Námo and Vairë showed up, their aurae blazing in wrath.

"Maranwë!" Námo shouted even as he negligently tossed one of the fiery Máyar with a single thought into the Black Hole, "get out of here! Everyone head for the next rendezvous point."

"We can stay and fight," Calimo protested, failing to deflect an energy bolt just then, which left him stunned. Námo grabbed him before the Dark Máyar attacking could do further damage and thrust him into Maranwë’s embrace.

"Maranwë, all of you, go!" Námo ordered and such was the force of his will that the Máyar thought themselves away, leaving only the two Ayanumuz to face the horde of Dark Máyar, one of whom was Rushirithir. Námo and Vairë could feel the weight of several hundred Máyar mentally pinning them in place, or so they believed.

"Well, well, if it isn’t our little playmate," the Dark Máya sneered. "Couldn’t stay away from the fun and games, could you, Little One?"

"First of all," Námo retorted with steely determination, "I’m not your playmate and second of all, call me ‘Little One’ again and you will truly regret it."

"Oh?" Rushirithir sneered even more. "And how will I regret it... Little One?"

Námo did not say anything at first. Vairë stood beside him, silently gauging their chances of getting out of this predicament without being captured again. She remembered Rushirithir from before and her aura darkened at his taunting. The two Ayanumuz were surrounded, literally. The Dark Máyar englobed them so that they were standing inside a sphere of dark spirits, some of whom, like Rushirithir, sported whips of fire. Námo stared at the Dark Máya with cool disdain, then turned to Vairë.

"I think these Children need a lesson in manners," he said in a conversational tone. "What do you think?"

"Actually, I was thinking I wanted to take their toys away," Vairë said with equal disdain.

Námo smiled, took her in his embrace and kissed her. "Shall we?"

"Oh yes," Vairë said. "I weary of these Children interfering with our... um... own fun and games. Maranwë was bad enough, but these...."

Rushirithir, not pleased to be so ignored, took his whip and struck at Vairë... or at least he tried to. Even as he was aiming the lashes at Vairë, Námo reached out and grabbed the whip, pulling it towards him along with Rushirithir, who was just startled enough not to offer resistance. At the same time, Vairë pinned him mentally so he could not escape and then Námo was using the whip on him, bolts of searing energy lashing into the Dark Máya, causing him to scream, though neither lashes nor screams sounded in the depths of space. All 'heard' his shrieks of pain only in the depths of their fëar. Námo never said a word, merely whipping Rushirithir while Vairë stood by and watched. Rushirithir writhed in agony, his screams primal. The other Dark Máyar never moved. Indeed, they found to their horror that they could not, for even concentrating their will on Rushirithir, the two Ayanumuz had the power to hold the other Máyar in place.

Námo stopped only when Rushirithir succumbed to unconsciousness. Then he mentally grabbed every whip held by Melkor’s minions and thrust them towards the Black Hole. Only when the last whip disappeared did he and Vairë release their holds on the Máyar.

"We’ll be going now," Námo said in a tone that held no emotion as he took Vairë into his embrace. Then they thought themselves away, leaving behind dumbfounded Dark Máyar wondering what had happened to their prey, while their leader remained insensate, his dark aura shredded by his own force whip.

****

The two Ayanumuz emerged at the designated rendezvous, a planet orbiting a blue star that had a breathable atmosphere, to find Maranwë and the other Máyar in a state of panic and near despair. Before he could even get his bearings Námo found himself surrounded by weeping Máyar practically falling over each other in their rush to be the first to offer an apology for being so negligent in their duties. Námo gave Vairë a wry look and a shrug which she returned with an indulgent smile.

"Children!" he practically shouted, "Cease this unseemly display at once."

It took them a few seconds to comply and most of them remained on their knees, for they had all incarnated when the Ayanumuz had appeared. Námo and Vairë also incarnated as an accommodation to the Máyar. For the Máyar to have clothed themselves as they did was a sign of abject subservience, which rather surprised the Ayanumuz, though Vairë sent Námo a private message telling him that her own Máyar had done something similar when she had returned to them.

*I think they need reassurance that they still have your favor, Beloved,* she said to him, *and your love.*

*Could they ever doubt it?* he asked in perplexity.

*No more than you doubted Atar’s love,* she reminded him gently and he cringed slightly at that, knowing that he had indeed doubted their Atar’s love after what Melkor had done to him and what he had been forced to do while Melkor’s captive.

"Why these tears, my Children?" Námo said, reaching down to wipe the tears from Tindomerel’s face, she being the closest to him. Maranwë, he noticed, remained in the rear, and had indeed gone flat on his face, refusing to look up. Námo sighed, but returned his attention to the others. "See ye, we are both well and unharmed."

"W-we failed thee, lord," Tindomerel stammered.

"How did ye fail me?" Námo asked, curious as to what answer they would give.

"We should not have allowed Rushirithir and the others to find us," Calimo answered.

"But I wanted him to find you," Námo stated with a slight smile. "I wanted Melkor’s People to attack you."

That stopped them all cold and even Maranwë looked up from his prostrate position. Most just knelt there looking stunned, but Tindomerel furrowed her brow. "Thou... thou didst wish for them to find us?"

Námo nodded, continuing to smile. "Yes, my Daughter, I did. Oh, not necessarily then or there but I figured eventually they would go after you knowing you would call for me. They thought to use you to trap me, while all the while I was using you to trap them."

For a long moment, no one spoke while the Máyar digested that bit of news. Maranwë, Námo noted with approval, even raised himself to his feet to face his lord. "Thou’rt most devious, lord," he said emotionlessly.

Vairë actually snorted at that. "You think?" she asked with an innocent look on her face and several of the Máyar actually snickered. Námo flashed her a smile and a mental kiss before turning his attention back to his People.

"I apologize for what you have been put through, my Children," he said soothingly. "I did not tell you my plan for fear that...."

"Nay, lord," Maranwë interrupted. "We are thy servants in all things." He bowed and the others rose and offered their own obeisance.

"Well, now that’s cleared up, Beloved," Vairë said. "What do we do now?"

"Have we missed the signal from Lord Manwë?" Tindomerel asked.

Námo shook his head. "It has not yet come, and so I think we should continue as we have. Melkor’s People will be coming after us soon and...."

Even as he was speaking, several beings emerged, surrounding them on the plain where they were standing and then going corporeal themselves. Námo noticed with grim humor that Rushirithir was not amongst them. Almost immediately, Námo’s People surrounded the two Ayanumuz in a protective circle.

*Why don’t we just think ourselves away?* Vairë asked Námo as she eyed the Dark Máyar advancing upon them.

*I want to keep them occupied,* Námo said. *If they are playing with us, they’re not helping our Fallen Brother and that gives Manwë the advantage.*

*But they outnumber our People three to one,* Vairë pointed out in a reasonable tone.

Námo raised an eyebrow at her. *Our People?*

She merely smiled. Námo was about to bend down and kiss her but one of Melkor’s minions chose that moment to throw something at him. Several of his Máyar attempted to deflect the projectile but the speed with which it had been thrown and the suddenness of the attack took them by surprise and their reaction was too slow. Námo felt a blow to his head and he collapsed to his knees, stunned. He heard confused shouting and Vairë was kneeling beside him, cradling him. It took him a moment to localize the pain and alleviate it enough to focus on what was happening. He glanced at Vairë and his grey eyes were cold.

"I’m getting tired of this, aren’t you?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Vairë nodded as she helped him to stand. "Let us end this charade once and for all."

They turned their attention to what was happening around them. In spite of the fact that Maranwë and his brethren were outnumbered by the Dark Máyar, they were holding their own, though a few were lying stunned. None had gone incorporeal, though, which Námo found interesting. Many were grappling with one another, pounding on one another with fists or rocks (and that was what had been thrown at him he suddenly realized with some irritation). It was difficult, in fact, to separate out his own People from Melkor’s in the melee ensuing around them.

The two of them waded into the fight, grabbing Dark Máyar every now and then and throwing them bodily away with negligent ease, rescuing their own Máyar from suffering serious physical damage. No one fought with any finesse and in fact they were all rather awkward about it, unused as they were to dealing with one another on an incarnate level. It was all rather new to them and the experience was not pleasant. Námo had less problem with it having had to suffer being in hröa for so long while Melkor’s captive, so he was more effective in grappling with the enemy attacking him. Vairë was not helpless either, having learned something about coping with the physical while a captive as well.

It was while Námo was being attacked by four of Melkor’s People that Manwë’s signal came. "Now is not a good time, Manwë!" he shouted, not sure if Manwë could hear him when he was in hröa, even as he was pushing two of the Dark Máyar off him and tripping a third while the fourth was doing his level best to choke him from behind. Námo bent forward while grabbing the Máya by his arms and pulling him over his head to land on top of the Máya he had just tripped.

Námo then grabbed Vairë and shouted, "Time to leave this party."

Vairë nodded and then the two of them exerted their full powers and pushed the attackers off their People with a single thought while at the same time gathering Námo’s Máyar to themselves and thinking themselves elsewhere, leaving Melkor’s minions once again wondering what had happened.

****

They made three additional ‘jumps’ around the universe to elude Melkor’s People before Námo decided they could stop so he could change the variables on the beacon. It was necessary that there be no interruptions. They all settled in the midst of clouds of gases and dust billowing about them in shades of ochre, coral and brilliant sulphur yellow. Námo turned to his People.

"This time ye must indeed protect me, for I need all my concentration on completing my task. If Melkor’s People attack again, I will not be able to help."

"We understand, lord," Maranwë said with a bow.

"I will watch over thee, Beloved," Vairë said, "so that thy People need not be concerned for thy safety." She gave him a kiss which he returned.

"That is well, Beloved," he replied. "Now let’s see about changing the variable before Manwë comes looking for us in high dudgeon."

She giggled and the Máyar smiled even as they took up defensive positions around the two Ayanumuz. Námo then shut them all from his mind and searched his memory for the information he needed. He sent his thoughts ranging through the universe until he had located the two beacon-stars. It was necessary to change them at the same time. Vaguely, he noticed that there was movement among his People and Vairë’s aura went dark with some emotion that he could not identify, but he pushed these distractions from him.

He called to mind the formula Ulmo had imparted to him and double-checked the configuration of the variable before Singing the change. Even as he did so, he could ‘see’ the beacon-stars changing their positions, moving across Eä so that they were in triangulation with the intended space-time coordinates for the real Atháraphelun. He was just congratulating himself on a job well done when he heard Vairë shouting.

"Námo, watch out! Melkor’s just arrived!"

26: Atháraphelun Rising

WARNING: Certain material in this chapter are emotionally intense and may prove disturbing to some readers. Please keep in mind that what is being described here is not physcial rape or the consent of Námo to it. Instead, what is being described is an attempt by Melkor to dominate Námo psychologically and spiritually with the intent of suborning his free will. If Námo appears to be acquiescing, it is only as a ploy to keep Melkor 'busy' until help (in the form of Manwë and the other Ayanumuz) arrives.

****

Námo turned his attention to what was happening around him. Everywhere he looked Dark Máyar were emerging, surrounding them, and there, glowing darkly against the incandescent gases of interstellar space, was Melkor. Flanking him were Acairis and Rushirithir. The latter was still looking a bit worse for wear with gaping rents in his aura, but Námo suspected that Melkor had restored some of the Máya’s energy, enabling him to attend his Master.

Námo heard Vairë hiss at the sight of her former Chief Máya, but whether in anger or distress, he couldn’t tell. He gathered her into his embrace and gave a command to his People to bring their defensive ring closer. He wanted Melkor and his Máyar to have to come to them.

*Now would be a good time for Manwë to show up,* Vairë said to him on a private frequency, a frequency that seemed to be forging itself between them and Námo idly wondered if this was the beginning of the bond that the other Ayanumuz who were already espoused mentioned existed between them and their partners.

*But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?* Námo couldn’t help sending back to her and had the pleasure of ‘hearing’ her snort in dark amusement.

*So what do we do?* she asked. *With Melkor here we’re definitely outnumbered.*

*Outnumbered, perhaps,* Námo allowed, *but not outclassed.*

Vairë’s aura indicated puzzlement at his words and Námo resisted the urge to laugh. *Do you recognize where we are?* he asked.

She looked about her, checking the spatiotemporal coordinates and practically gasped. *This... this is....*

*Watch out,* Námo warned. *Melkor is making his move.*

Indeed, he was. Their Fallen Brother became even more incandescent with anger and hate as he hurled electromagnetic bolts towards the two Ayanumuz, practically screaming in rage. Almost without thinking, Námo and Vairë formed a sphere of protection around themselves and their Máyar against which the energy bolts flickered harmlessly.

"You’ll have to do better than that, Melkor," Námo taunted, trying to sound brave but deep inside himself his fëa quailed, remembering what Melkor had done to him. He felt Vairë lend him her strength and gave her a brief kiss. He needed to keep Melkor’s attention on him and nowhere else for just a little longer....

Melkor raged all the more and sent a command for his Máyar to attack. Soon hundreds of bolts of energy flared across the intervening space, intent on destroying the shield that the two Ayanumuz had constructed. Námo was confident that between the two of them, he and Vairë would be able to hold off the attack and his own People were helping to strengthen the protective barrier. However, while the shield kept electromagnetic energy out, it could not prevent actual matter from breaching it and Melkor began hurling large chunks of rocks taken from nearby asteroid fields at them. The two Ayanumuz were hard pressed to maintain their shield and push the asteroids away and Námo ended up delegating that task to half his People while the other half helped maintain the shield, for that was where the greater danger lay. The rocks themselves could not harm them, but they were proving a distraction, one that they did not need.

"You think you’ve beaten me, Little One?" Melkor snarled at Námo. "You think your little ploy will stop me? I will have Atháraphelun... and you."

"You will never have me, Melkor," Námo shouted back, "nor will you have Atháraphelun, not completely. Atar will not permit it."

"Atar, Atar," Melkor taunted with a sneer. "Atar already permits it, Little One, for am I not here? Would he really allow me purchase in Eä if he did not wish me to rule it?"

"If it served a greater purpose, he would," Vairë replied. "Your problem, Melkor, is that you think Atar won’t or can’t act against you, when in fact, he is merely waiting for you to return to him."

"You’re the greatest of us all, Melkor," Námo added. "Even Manwë admits it. You could do much good if you...."

But Melkor wasn’t listening. Instead he hurled a series of electromagnetic bolts at them, hoping to weaken the shield with his onslaught. Námo and Vairë were becoming hard-pressed to maintain the integrity of the force screen around them and the Máyar. A second’s inattention nearly spelled doom for them, for one of the bolts slipped through the barrier, stunning Tindomerel. Maranwë was nearby and was able to help her, lending some of his own strength to ease her pain.

As small as the breach was, it was enough to threaten the entire structure of the field and it would be only a matter of time before the whole thing collapsed. Námo never considered fleeing, even if they had had the power to do so. The dark weight of Melkor’s malice on top of the hatred of the Dark Máyar was just enough to keep them all in place.

Slowly, the breach to the shield began to widen and Melkor started crowing, urging his Máyar to greater effort. Námo was calculating how much time they might have left and looking around for options to their plight, realizing that there really weren’t any. Either they fled or they stood their ground and given where they were in the universe, fleeing was no option at all.

He sent a silent command to Maranwë ordering him and the others to fall back slowly so that the Máyar were collapsing into an ever tighter and tighter ring around the two Ayanumuz while Námo and Vairë brought the shield closer to them as well in an attempt to heal the breach. Melkor, however, had other ideas.

Suddenly, half of the Dark Máyar concentrated their entire arsenal on the small opening in the shield, so that Námo and Vairë were hard-pressed to keep their equilibrium and maintain a steady force pulse. All the while, the other half of Melkor’s troops were hurling interstellar matter at them, trying to distract them, break their concentration. Finally, they succeeded. It was just a momentary distraction, barely a millisecond’s worth in which Námo was forced to deal with a rather large chunk of cometary matter that his Máyar failed to throw off-course, but it was enough. Without warning Melkor was at the breach and the force of his own power was widening it to the point where the entire shield collapsed, exposing Námo, Vairë and the Máyar to their foes.

Námo ordered his People back so that he and Vairë were facing Melkor. The Máyar were reluctant to retreat but Námo was adamant and brooked no argument. In spite of his brave front, he could feel every part of him scream in terror at the thought of having to face Melkor again so soon. Only the feel of Vairë’s love and support gave him the strength not to visibly cringe when their Fallen Brother advanced.

For a long moment the three Ayanumuz faced each other in silence. Melkor was still flanked by Acairis and Rushirithir. Acairis eyed her former mistress with obvious disdain while Rushirithir gave them both a hateful glare. Melkor actually smiled as he reached out to caress Námo.

"Well, Little One," he crooned. "Here we are again. I was rather disappointed in our last meeting."

"That’s too bad, Melkor," Námo said. "I was rather pleased by its outcome myself."

The Fallen One snarled and pulled Námo towards him. Vairë tried to intervene but Acairis chose that moment to attack her. The assault was just vicious enough to surprise the Ayanuz so she did not try to defend herself immediately. Námo was in no position to help for Melkor had him firmly in his grip and was intent on forcing him into submission. Rushirithir looked on with dark glee, waiting for his master to finish with Námo so he could have a turn with him.

"I promised Rushirithir that I would leave you to him once I had my own way with you, Little One," Melkor purred obscenely, his aura darkening even further as he tried to force Námo to submit to him. Námo steeled himself as best he could, refusing to allow Melkor’s taint to touch his most inner self which he silently gave over to Atar for safe-keeping. If necessary, he would pretend to bow to Melkor if only to buy time. He wasn’t sure what was keeping Manwë and the others unless they too were busy fending off an attack. He just hoped he could resist long enough.

Even as these thoughts coursed through his mind he could feel his willpower crumbling as a wave of dark ecstasy swept through him, the painful pleasure of it causing him to cling helplessly to Melkor while his Fallen Brother laughed with black delight. Vairë, in the meantime, was having her own troubles with Acairis and Námo’s Máyar were too busy defending themselves against their dark counterparts to be of any help. Námo could feel himself succumbing to Melkor’s desires even as he resisted.

*Manwë, where are you?* he whispered deep inside himself. *Atar, help me!* he added almost as an afterthought and felt a flow of energy from somewhere deep inside and he felt the dark flames of Melkor’s lusts ebb from his fëa. Yet, he knew that it was only a matter of time before Melkor overpowered him.

"There’s no point in resisting me, Námo," Melkor purred as he continued caressing the younger Ayanuz. "You know you want this as much as I do. Why fight me?" He sent another deeper wave of ecstasy through his captive, reveling in the sound of Námo’s moans. "Come, join me," he whispered seductively, "and together we can...."

But what more he might have said Námo never knew for suddenly the entire universe resounded with Song. From nowhere and everywhere it came, and with it Manwë, Varda and the other Ayanumuz along with all their Máyar. The Song never faltered, but grew stronger as the others emerged into the surrounding space. Melkor drew back from his assault on Námo, unsure at first what was happening. Without hesitating, Námo pulled himself away from Melkor’s embrace and before the Fallen One could react, he hurled an electromagnetic bolt into his would-be rapist and then turned and did the same to Rushirithir. Vairë managed to subdue Acairis almost at the same time when the Máya became distracted by the sound of Melkor’s scream of pain.

Confusion reigned amongst Melkor’s dark brood, allowing Námo, Vairë and Námo’s People to leave Melkor and join their fellow Ayanumuz. All this while the Song never ceased and now Námo and Vairë also joined in and its sound was resplendent. The fabric of space shifted about them and, first, a black hole appeared nearly on top of Melkor and his Máyar, though the diameter of the event horizon was so small that they were all able to avoid it with some shifting about.

Then, as the Song continued, Aulë took a solo part, singing a specific set of equations in an aria of exquisite beauty, and a planet emerged from nowhere, taking up orbit before the black hole. It was small as planets went and its rotational period was such that it kept one side facing inward. Even as Aulë’s aria ended Irmo and Estë took it up, making it a duet, and a second planet appeared, but this one was several light minutes further out, past the orbit reserved for Atháraphelun. It was larger than the first planet and appeared to be a desert world of oxidized sand. Námo and Vairë came next, singing their own duet, and the next planet to emerge after that was much larger and quite beautiful with oceans and land. It also had a ring system and three satellites. After that Manwë, Varda and Yavanna took up the aria and two more planets emerged almost simultaneously. They were gas giants, the first and largest was banded with various colored gases and there appeared to be a huge storm in its upper atmosphere. The second was only slightly smaller and was ringed. As Manwë, Varda and Yavanna’s arias faded, Ulmo, Nienna and Oromë began singing their own complicated set of equations and three more planets finally emerged one after the other. The first two were almost twins, both slightly smaller gas giants in shades of blue and green. The last planet to emerge was actually a triple system of three dwarf planets orbiting a common barrycenter.

There was a slight pause in the Song and then all the Ayanumuz sang a paean of joy and slowly another planet emerged, taking its place between the first and second planet. It was larger than the three other inner planets yet, unlike them, it was still barely formed, being more molten rock than anything. Námo looked upon Atháraphelun with wonder and realized that Manwë had decided to wait until the planet was firmly established in its fated place in Eä before attempting to shape it into the Vision they had all seen while in the Timeless Halls.

Seeing Atháraphelun and the rest of the stellar system emerge within their midst shocked Melkor and his minions at first but then Námo heard Melkor scream in a fury that knew no bounds and the force of it sent waves of discord throughout that section of Eä. Several nearby stars went nova from the tidal forces Melkor’s rage had generated and great chunks of interstellar matter rained down upon the newly emerged worlds circling the black hole that would one day be replaced by Atháraphelun’s primary. Some of the larger rocks and stellar matter were captured by the various planets and found themselves becoming satellites. The gas giants in particular caught many such. Even the desert world captured two irregularly shaped asteroids. In spite of the waves of discord and chaos that threatened the newly formed star system, the Song did not cease until each planet was firmly established in its orbit. Then, it crescendoed into a final chord of founding as the equations setting all the planets into motion were established.

Silence reigned then and even Melkor and his minions went still, gazing about them in awe. Námo felt a wave of pure delight sweep through him as his fellow Ayanumuz gathered around him and Vairë, lending them their love and support.

Námo glanced at Manwë, giving him a sour grin. "It took you long enough. I was this close to letting Melkor have his way."

"I am sorry, Námo," Manwë said, taking the younger Ayanuz into his embrace and the feeling of it was as a cleansing balm to Námo’s fëa and he sighed in relief as the last dark taint of Melkor’s touch faded away. "We were attacked by some of Melkor’s People and that delayed us. We came as quickly as we could." Then he pulled away to give Námo his own glare. "And you took your sweet time changing the Variables so we could come and establish Atháraphelun."

Námo grinned. "We ran into a little trouble ourselves," he said unapologetically.

"How sweet."

The two looked to see Melkor, a safe distance away sneering at them. Námo’s aura went dark with dismay but Manwë’s aura never changed, remaining a steady blue. His voice, however, was colder than space itself. "Get thee gone, Melkor," he said. "Do not seek to interfere with us."

"Oh, I’ll go, dear brother," Melkor said, "but don’t get too complacent. You think you’ve won, but you haven’t. Atháraphelun will be mine... eventually." Then he laughed, the echo of it igniting waves of chaos all about as he and his minions flashed out of existence.

Manwë sighed. "Well, the first battle has gone to us, but it will not end here."

Námo indicated his agreement with that. "He will not give up until he has what he wants."

Manwë gave him a shrewd look. "Would you have submitted to him?"

"Only in seeming," Námo replied. "Atar held my true self in his hands."

Manwë nodded. "That is well." Then he turned to Vairë, giving her a warm embrace. "And you, daughter? How do you fare?"

"Well enough now that she is no longer here," she answered him, her tone laced with contempt, still refusing to name her former Máya.

Námo just couldn’t resist whispering to her across their private frequency: *Acairis, Acairis, Acairis.* She responded by throwing a mild bolt of energy his way, easily fended off with a negligent thought and then he was wrapping himself around her. *You were splendid. I think I’ll have to marry you.*

*You think?* she retorted with a smile and then they were kissing, forgetting that they had an audience until quiet laughter distracted them and they turned to see everyone looking on with indulgent smiles.

"If you’re finished," Manwë said with a knowing look, "perhaps we can take a look at our latest creations. Nienna and Ulmo are already comparing their two planets to see which one is better."

Námo and Vairë laughed at that, and without releasing their hold on one another, the two of them joined the others in taking a closer look at the various planets, each of the Ayanuz taking turns showing off their work while the Máyar stationed themselves around the perimeter of the system, guarding against any further attacks by Melkor.

27: Repercussions

There was peace in Eä for some time afterwards, though Manwë insisted on keeping vigilance. All agreed that Melkor would not give up easily. All worried about what he might try next but as there was nothing anyone could do to actually prepare for an attack, most put it out of their minds and concentrated on bringing Atháraphelun to fruition.

They spent some time examining the other planets in the system, each Vala showing off their particular creation. Aulë showed off his new forge while Irmo and Estë explained why they chose to create a desert world. "Deserts are very calming to the fëa," Irmo said. "There is something about deserts that speaks to the very emptiness at the heart of every fëa."

"The emptiness wherein Atar can be found," added Estë and they all nodded, understanding what she meant.

Everyone teased Námo and Vairë about their planet.

"It looks as if you couldn’t make up your minds what kind of planet you wanted," Irmo said with a smile.

"We decided to create a planet that expresses our joy in the coming of the Children," Námo said with a sniff.

"And we wanted something that we both could agree on," Vairë added with a grin.

They all laughed at that. "It does help when one is espoused to find some common ground," Manwë replied with a knowing smile as he took Varda into his embrace. The two of them glowed serenely, their aurae mingling, creating a pleasing blue-white hue.

"So when will we see you two espoused?" Varda asked.

"Well... we haven’t... I mean... we’re not...." Námo silently cursed himself as several kinds of fool stumbling over the words.

"He means he hasn’t formally asked me yet," Vairë interjected coyly.

"I don’t know," Oromë said with a smirk. "It certainly looked as if you’d proposed the way the two of you were kissing just now."

"If you think that was a kiss, my lord," Maranwë spoke up from his guard position, looking far too pleased with himself, "you didn’t see them when they were supposed to be hiding. My brethren and I could see them glowing from three star systems away with a dust cloud in between. I had to... um... reprimand them."

"Maranwë," Námo growled as the other Ayanumuz started laughing. "You’re forgetting your place."

Maranwë gave his lord a mock look of surprise and his aura brightened with mischief as he proceeded to rattle off the exact spatiotemporal coordinates of his position relative to Námo. That set everyone, except Námo, laughing again. Irmo gave his brother a hug. "He’s got you there, brother," he said and began tickling him. Then Oromë joined him until the two of them had Námo laughing and begging for them to stop. After that they all moved on to examine the gas giants and Oromë’s triple planetary system. Every planet was unique, even the so-called twin planets created by Ulmo and Nienna and all rejoiced in the various jewels that would now adorn Atháraphelun’s skies. As they worked on Atháraphelun itself, they often took time off to play amongst the other planets in the system, exploring their many different and unique qualities.

****

In spite of the levity exhibited between Námo and his Chief Máya, Maranwë was worried. He and his brethren had watched their lord with Rushirithir and while they would say nothing against Námo, they admitted amongst themselves their shock and dismay at the brutality of Námo’s attack on the fallen Máya. Vairë’s Máyar were equally dismayed to learn that their mistress had not only not stopped Lord Námo but had actually helped him by keeping Rushirithir from escaping. Yet, neither Námo nor Vairë exhibited any signs of remorse for what they had done. That worried their Máyar even more to the point where Maranwë and Therindë approached Manwë and Irmo about it.

"I know that both of them suffered terribly while in captivity," Maranwë told Manwë, "but there was something not right in the way they... punished Rushirithir."

"In what way?" Manwë asked with a frown.

Maranwë hesitated, hating to speak against any of the Ayanumuz, but most especially against his own liege lord, yet there had been a level of callousness to his master’s plan that distressed the Máya in a way he could not quite articulate even to himself. "They showed no emotion," he finally said. "My lord Námo’s aura was nearly invisible and Lady Vairë’s aura was equally dark. It was almost as if they weren’t there... that someone else was lashing out at Rushirithir."

Manwë and Irmo exchanged concerned glances before Irmo spoke. "That is indeed troubling. You think they had... shut themselves away from their emotions so they could better do what they did?"

Maranwë nodded. "When he was finished, my lord casually stripped all of the Dark Máyar of their force whips and threw them into the black hole and then they just left to meet us at the next rendezvous point."

"How is it you know all of this if you were not there?" Manwë asked, his tone somewhat abrupt.

Maranwë’s aura darkened somewhat in chagrin. "I... I disobeyed my lord’s command and did not flee with my brethren. I stayed within the vicinity of the black hole, though no one paid me any mind."

"Why did you disobey your lord?" Irmo asked, wondering if there would be rebellion among Námo’s Máyar.

Now Maranwë appeared distraught and Therindë wrapped herself around him to comfort him. "I... I didn’t want to leave him alone," he finally answered. "He shouldn’t have been left alone with... with them."

There was no doubt in their minds who ‘them’ were. Manwë frowned. "Vairë was there," he pointed out in a reasonable tone. "He was hardly alone."

"Neither of them should have been left alone with our fallen brethren," Therindë now spoke for the first time. "I am glad Maranwë was there even if no one else knew."

"I knew."

They all turned to see Námo standing there. Maranwë’s aura went absolutely red with distress and he began to stammer an abject apology which Námo waved away. "I do not blame you Maranwë," he said. "I don’t say that I’m not disappointed that you disobeyed me, but I understand why you did and I appreciate your concern for me... for us, but I assure you that there is no need. Neither Vairë nor I feel we did anything wrong. Rushirithir got what he deserved, nothing more."

"It almost sounds as if you were seeking revenge, not justice, brother," Irmo said coldly. "And who are you to decide what Rushirithir or anyone else deserves?"

"You have no idea what he did to me," Námo retaliated with more emotion than he had been exhibiting. "You don’t know what I was made to do!"

"Only because you will not speak of it," Irmo rejoined, "though given what we saw when we found you, I can guess."

"Guess, but never know. No one knows and no one will." By now Námo’s aura was going incandescent with pent-up anger.

"Except Atar," Manwë said with equanimity. "Perhaps this is something you should take up with Atar."

"There is nothing to take up, Manwë," Námo practically shouted. "We did nothing wrong." With that he vanished, leaving them feeling nonplused at the vehemence of his response.

After a moment, Manwë turned to Therindë. "And you, my dear," he asked solicitously, "how have you fared, for you too were held captive by Melkor along with your mistress?"

"I am well, lord," Therindë answered. "Unlike my mistress, I was left alone... well, except by Acairis, but her taunting was petty and I ignored it. My greatest distress was being unable to protect my mistress from Melkor’s... amusements."

They all grimaced at that and Manwë sighed. "Thank you, my daughter," he said, then addressed both Máyar. "Perhaps you should return to your duties. My fellow Ayanumuz and I will deal with your master and mistress if there should be a need."

The two Máyar gave Manwë and Irmo their obeisance and left. For a long moment there was silence between the two Ayanumuz, then Manwë looked at Irmo. "Let’s consult with Estë and your sister about this. Námo’s reaction to our questioning disturbs me."

"And me," Irmo said sadly. "I fear for my brother and Vairë if this issue is not faced sooner rather than later."

Manwë agreed as he summoned Estë and Nienna to him.

****

"We did nothing wrong," Námo insisted to Vairë as the two of them sat beside a lake on their planet. It was almost identical to the one on the planet that Vairë had taken Námo. They were incarnate, enjoying the perpetual night that existed on this and every other planet in the system without the light of a star. The planet itself was surrounded by a force field and its core provided all the heat necessary to allow plant life to exist, though there were no animals.

Vairë leaned against Námo and idly began twisting the ends of his blue-black hair. "No, we did not," she said in agreement. "They have no need to be concerned for us. Rushirithir was becoming annoying and I for one am glad he finally got a taste of what he did to you."

"And to you," Námo said, looking down at her with a sad smile. "I know you don’t talk about it, but I see it in your eyes."

Vairë shrugged. "There’s nothing to tell," she rejoined, though Námo noticed she would not look at him directly and her expression was set. He sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I still have moments when I’m back there," he told her softly. "I’ll be going about my work and suddenly I’ll be back in the cave and Melkor...." But he couldn’t continue and without conscious volition he found himself weeping, great wracking sobs of anguish and pain. Vairë clung to him and rocked him, hoping to comfort him, but it was as if the wall of ice she had built around her own emotions concerning her captivity was breached by her lover’s tears and she began weeping as well.

The tears did not last long and soon she was calm again, but Námo’s weeping continued and she became alarmed, for she could not seem to reach him and nothing she did seemed to calm him. Then, Irmo, Estë and Nienna were there, surrounding them, their expressions ones of deep concern. Vairë looked up at them, her face a mask of distress.

"He won’t stop," she cried. "I can’t get him to stop."

Estë reached down and took Vairë into her embrace even as Irmo and Nienna knelt on either side of Námo and cradled him between them. Nienna’s own tears began to flow as she held her brother while Irmo quietly hummed a lullaby.

"Weep, Námo," Nienna whispered. "Weep for the innocence and joy of which you have been robbed. Weep, brother, and in your weeping find cleansing from all the darkness that still clings to your fëa."

Námo continued to weep for a little while longer, but finally the flow of tears ebbed and then stopped altogether, though Nienna’s own tears did not abate immediately. Sister and brother continued to cradle their sibling, as Námo slipped into healing sleep. All this time, Estë continued to hold Vairë in her own embrace and rocked her, crooning something soft and comforting to the younger Ayanuz’s spirit until she was quiescent. Gently, Estë eased Vairë to the ground and soon the two tortured souls were both asleep while the other three Ayanumuz softly sang a lullaby.

****

Some time later, Námo came awake, feeling a bit confused as to where he was and why he was lying between Irmo and Nienna. He had no memory of them appearing, only of having a sudden need to weep. His last memory was of feeling Vairë embracing him. He looked up at his siblings who watched him with concerned expressions.

"What happened?" he whispered, surprised at how hoarse his throat felt.

"I think you suffered a crisis," Irmo replied softly. "You and Vairë both."

"Vairë? Is she...." He struggled to sit up but his siblings held him down.

"She’s fine, Námo," Nienna assured him. "She’s sleeping and Estë is watching over her."

"We’re more concerned for you, brother," Irmo said. "You would not stop weeping."

"How are you feeling now?" Nienna asked.

He had to think about that for a moment or two before answering. "Empty. I feel... empty."

Irmo nodded. "You’ve washed away the... pus of your anger and shame and now you need to fill the wounds to your spirit with something else."

"What?"

"That’s for you to decide, Námo," Nienna answered. She gave him a shrewd look. "When was the last time you spoke with Atar?"

Námo cringed slightly at her tone. "It’s... been a while," he admitted reluctantly.

"Well, I think it’s time you spoke with him again," she said in a tone of voice that both Námo and Irmo had come to recognize and to ignore at their peril.

Námo sighed and this time when he attempted to sit up his siblings let him. "I don’t think Atar is very happy with me," he said ruefully.

"Probably not," Irmo responded with a slight grin, "but that is not to say that you shouldn’t speak to him."

Námo nodded and glanced over to where he could see Vairë still sleeping in Estë’s arms. He looked at his brother and sister, his expression suddenly shy. "Will you watch over her for me?"

Nienna smiled and leaned over to plant a kiss on his brow. "You know we will," she replied. "Now why don’t you go and speak with Atar? We’ll still be here when you return."

Námo nodded again and instantly thought himself away. Irmo gave his sister a wry look. "I certainly hope Atar can help him. I want my brother back."

Nienna said nothing, merely nodding, feeling the same.

****

Námo removed himself only as far as Irmo’s own planet, remembering the words his brother and Estë had spoken concerning finding Atar in the emptiness which the desert evoked. For a long time he merely wandered across sand dunes and through deep valleys, roaming aimlessly as he tried to make sense of the roiling emotions that were sweeping across his fëa. He still felt that he and Vairë had done nothing wrong in their encounter with Rushirithir, but now tendrils of doubt began to encroach upon his sense of rightness and for the first time he wondered if perhaps he had erred.

At last his feet brought him to the foot of a mountain, a volcano, that rose precipitously from the floor of the desert to pierce the sky. Without conscious thought he began to climb. It took some time to reach the summit, for there were steep cliffs to scale, but it never occurred to him to simply think himself there. Something within him demanded that he make this climb in hröa, however long it might take.

He eventually found himself staring down into a caldera complex of six overlapping craters, his sight piercing the stygian gloom into the very heart of the planet. Then he turned his gaze upward to watch disinterestedly as the stars made their slow march across the heavens. Two small satellites sailed above him, the closer one quickly disappearing below the horizon while its companion followed at a more sedate pace.

He sighed and crouched down, closing his eyes to listen to the silence that encompassed this world. It was mesmerizing and he could feel himself drifting. With a conscious effort he opened up a part of him that he had recently shut closed and reached out to the One Who was always there, ready to listen to His Children.

"I think I made a mistake," Námo said out loud, his tone meek and unsure.

*I think thou didst, too, my son,* came Atar’s voice, welling up from deep within him. *Perhaps thou and I should talk about it.*

****

He was weeping again, the tears splashing upon the rock and cooled lava flow where he sat on the lip of the caldera looking out across the expanse of the desert world. Varda’s stars glittered coldly above him with pristine indifference and he longed to fling himself into the heart of one of them and wrap himself around a nuclear core, but he did not. Atar would not let him and so he remained seated on the summit of the volcano and wept, his arms wrapped around his knees as he rocked himself, trying to find some comfort.

His discussion with Atar had been brutally honest and Atar had shown him where he had gone wrong. It was done lovingly but it still hurt and he felt himself flush with shame at his attempts at denial and all the while Atar calmly but with surgical precision stripped all illusions from him until he was left with nothing but the naked truth.

He had been wrong. They had been wrong. He was not sure how he... they could make it right.

*I created thee, my child,* Atar said at the last, *to be mine instrument of Justice in Eä, for there will be need for it because of the Marring. More importantly, however, I created thee for Mercy, for Justice without Mercy is merely tyranny writ large. Punishments should always fit the crime, but first there must be an understanding of just what the crime truly is before punishment can be administered. That is Justice. At the same time, though, there is a thin line between Justice and Vengeance. That is where Mercy comes into play. Seek Mercy, Námo, and Justice will follow, not the other way around.*

"They hurt me," Námo whispered forlornly, unable to get past that one thought.

*Yes, they did,* Atar agreed, *but why dost thou thinkest that what thou didst to Rushirithir be right and what he did to thee be wrong? Dost thou not see, child? There is too thin a line between true Justice and unlawful Vengeance. Thou hast not the ability to see all consequences of thine actions as I have. If there be a need for Vengeance, it will be mine to wield, for I will wield it with Righteousness. Thou, child, shouldst practice Mercy instead. That is thy proper sphere.*

"So what do I do now?" he asked.

*Thou canst not change what hath happened. Therefore, if thou wouldst redeem thyself in thine own eyes, thou shouldst offer thine apology to Vairë for leading her astray and to thy Máyar for abusing their trust of thee.*

Námo sighed. "Maybe Manwë was right. Maybe he should have demoted me to Máya status. I don’t think I’m truly fit to be an Ayanuz any more."

He could feel Atar’s gentle smile warming him from the inside out. *Child, thou shalt more truly be an Ayanuz in thy humbling of thyself and thine elder brother will recognize this.*

He nodded and rose to his feet. "I am sorry, Atar," he said contritely, "for everything."

*I know thou’rt, my son,* Atar said gently.

"I love thee, Atar," Námo whispered.

*And I love thee, child,* came Atar’s reply and Námo felt that love encompass him totally and unconditionally even as he unclothed and thought himself away.

****

Námo sought out Vairë first and apologized to her, then went in search of his Máyar. They were nonplused at the humility their lord exhibited but Maranwë spoke for all of them when he went to his knees and pledged himself to Námo again, his fellow Máyar following suit. Then, for good measure, Námo sought out each of his fellow Ayanuz and apologized to them as well, speaking to Manwë last and privately. When he left the Eldest’s presence, he appeared calm and more himself than he had in a long time. Manwë sent a fervent prayer of thanksgiving to Atar for Námo’s return and they all rejoiced that one whom they feared lost had finally been brought back to them whole.

****

Note: The mountain where Námo has his talk with Atar is Olympus Mons (Mt. Olympus) on Mars. It is the tallest known mountain and volcano in our solar system. The central edifice stands 27 kilometers (around 16.7 miles) high above the mean surface of Mars. It is 550 km (342 miles) in width, flanked by steep cliffs, and has a caldera complex that is 85 km (53 miles) long, 60 km (37 miles) wide, and up to 3 km (1.8 miles) deep with six overlapping pit craters. Its outer edge is defined by an escarpment up to 6 km (4 miles) tall; unique among the shield volcanoes of Mars [see Wikipedia for more information].

28: The Naming of Worlds

Note on the Names of the Planets: Throughout this story, Atháraphelun has been used to mean both the actual world which we call Earth as well as our solar system as a whole. This convention continues in this chapter but in subsequent chapters Atháraphelun will refer to the solar system only. To better understand this chapter I give the names of the planets as I have imagined they were called by the Ayanumuz, rather than placing them at the end with the usual translations.

While Tolkien provided us with Quenya names for the planets (except Pluto), these are the names given them by the Eldar. It stands to reason that the Ayanumuz and Máyar would have their own names for these planets, both in Valarin and later in Quenya when they first learned the language, only adopting the Eldarin versions after the Elves came to Aman.

Venus is included to complete the list. As it was not created until after the Elves settled in Aman, it only has a Quenya name, which is attested. Ceres, as the largest of the Asteroids in the Belt, is representative of all that remains of Námo and Vairë’s planet.

I also give the names of the Máyar who were originally assigned to keep watch over these planets, a nod to the classical/medieval notion that each planet, including our own, was ruled by a governing spirit.

Mercury: Urnambar (Oven-world), Azulezphelun (Aulë’s Dwelling) — Urion and Urwen.

Venus: Tancol (Signifer)

Earth: Ambarhíni (The Children’s world), Atháraphelun (Appointed Dwelling) — Eönwë and Ilmarë.

Mars: Erumëambar (Desert-world), Nasarphelun (Red Dwelling) — Ingil and Olóremmárië.

Ceres: Ezellambar (Green-world), Phanaiphelun (Bright Dwelling) — Ilinsor and Vanimeldë.

Jupiter: Mahalmambar (Throne-world): Manawenuzphelun (Manwë’s Dwelling) — Sáyandilmë and Nornoros.

Saturn: Cormambar (Ring-world), Ashkadphelun (Ring Dwelling) — Auros and Ravenni.

Neptune: Nendambar (Watery-world), Ullubozphelun (Ulmo’s Dwelling) — Amillo and Erintë.

Uranus: Láminambar (Echoing-world), Ulbankeluth (Blue Mirror) [both names are indicative of the fact Uranus is often considered a twin to Neptune] — Marilliën.

Pluto/Charon/Eris: Tirisambar (Watch-world, for it stands sentinel for the solar system, looking out into the depths of Eä): Aromezphelun (Oromë’s Dwelling) — Niéliqui and Lótessë.

****

At the founding of Atháraphelun, the Ayanumuz began to keep Time, measuring the orbit of Atháraphelun to determine how it would be calculated, for with the creation of the Children’s world, they knew it would not be long in the reckoning of Eternity before the Firstborn would appear. The orbits of all the other planets were watched over as well, tweaking them here and there where necessary. The Black Hole which was substituting for the primary that would eventually be brought into existence, exerted a different gravitational pull than would a normal star, and so Máyar were set to watch each of the planets and adjust their orbits as necessary. Manwë and Varda decided that their own Chief Máyar, Eönwë and Ilmarë, would be given the task of monitoring Atháraphelun itself. However the other Ayanumuz, following Námo and Vairë’s lead, assigned this duty to some of their lesser Maiar.

"They don’t always get a chance to shine," Námo explained to Varda when she asked why he and Vairë had chosen Iinsor and Vanimeldë, two of the youngest in Atar’s Thought, to share in the responsibility of keeping watch on their planet.

When the other Ayanumuz saw how awed and honored Ilinsor and Vanimeldë appeared to be upon being given their assignment, they decided that Námo and Vairë’s method of selection had merit. Thus the Ayanumuz held a Ceremony of Naming to inaugurate the creation of Atháraphelun, officially assigning Máyar to safeguard each of the planets. As they were all gathered over the innermost planet, Aulë stepped forth and announced: "For the warding of Urnambar, I grant this honor unto Urion and Urwen, brother and sister in Atar’s Thought. Bear it well, my children."

The two Máyar bowed low to their lord, their aurae indicating pride, joy and, on Urwen’s part, not a little fear at the awesome responsibility given them. Aulë smiled at the young Máya and gave her his benediction. "If I did not believe thou wert equal to the task, my daughter, I would never have named thee along with thy brother."

It was then Irmo and Estë’s turn, for it had been decided to leave Atháraphelun itself for last. Irmo stepped forth: "For the warding of Erumëambar, we grant this honor unto Ingil and Olóremmárië. Bear it well, children."

Námo and Vairë came forward after that. It was Námo who spoke. "For the warding of Ezellambar, we grant this honor unto Ilinsor and Vanimeldë. Bear it well, children."

Manwë and Varda then stepped forth as they all gathered above the largest of the gas giants. It was Varda who spoke. "For the warding of Mahalmambar, we grant this honor unto Sáyandilmë and Nornoros. Bear it well, children."

Yavanna came next with Nessa, as they all gathered along the rings. "For the warding of Cormambar," Yavana intoned, "we grant this honor unto Auros and Ravenni. Bear it well, children."

Ulmo stepped forth after that. "For the warding of Nendambar, I grant this honor unto Amillo and Erintë, brother and sister in Atar’s Thought. Bear it well, my children."

When they came to Nienna’s world, she gave them all a sardonic look. "For the warding of Láminambar..." — Everyone laughed at that — "I grant this honor unto Marilliën and to no other. Bear it well, my daughter."

They all watched with amusement as Marilliën’s aura went several shades towards the infrared in mingled pride and embarrassment.

*Typical of Nienna, to be so contrary,* Námo opined with mock disgust, sending a silent message not only to his brother but to Vairë as well. Both Ayanumuz sent back silent indications of agreement, though Irmo’s was more amused than disgusted.

Then it was Oromë’s turn. It was something of a surprise to many (though not to Námo or Vairë) when Vána stepped forward with the future Lord of the Hunt, who was the one who spoke. "For the warding of Tirisambar we grant this honor unto Niéliqui and Lótessë. Bear it well, daughters."

Then they all gathered again around the Jewel of the Heavens as Manwë and Varda called forth their Chief Máyar. "For the warding of Ambarhíni," Manwë intoned, "we grant this honor unto Eönwë and Ilmarë, brother and sister in Atar’s Thought. Bear it well, children." Then he addressed all the Máyar who had been selected to safeguard the planets of Atháraphelun. "Ye ward more than just another world, my children, ye ward the future of Eä itself, for herein will be the dwelling place of the Children. Be vigilant in your duties and we will be well pleased, as will Atar."

And so the planets were named, though, true to form, many of them were rarely called by the name given them by their creator. Urnambar was almost always referred to as Azulezphelun, while Erumëambar was generally called Nasarphelun. Námo and Vairë, between themselves, very often referred to their own world as Phanaiphelun. Mahalmambar was also called Manawenuzphelun, particularly among the Máyar. Ashkadphelun was never called anything but that while Ulmo’s world was often called just that: Ullubozphelun. Láminambar was sometimes referred to as Ulbankeluth, instead, because it was almost a mirror-copy of Ulmo’s world. Tirisambar was usually called Aromezphelun.

The Ayanumuz began to make a distinction early on between Ambarhíni and Atháraphelun. The former referred exclusively to the world wherein the Children would come forth while the latter term was used for the entire system as a whole. Later, when they learned Quenya, the Ayanumuz often referred to the entire star system as the Rest’ Atarmirëo, for they saw Ambarhíni as the Jewel of Atar’s Creation, where the central drama of the Themes which governed Eä would be worked out, for good or for ill.

Once the wards were established, the Ayanumuz set out with the help of the Máyar to tame the fires of Ambarhíni, for, unlike the other planets, this one was yet unformed. Manwë had decided that only with the system firmly established would they begin the task of moulding the world wherein the Children would dwell. They took the flat Atháraphelun as a model of how the land masses and seas would look and set out to build what the Children themselves would someday call Ambarendya. It was not an easy task but they all entered into it with joy. It was for this reason they had come into Eä, forsaking the Timeless Halls of Eruman. None of them regretted their decision to leave their brethren, knowing that some day they would all be reunited again. In the meantime, they sang paeans to Atar as they worked, rejoicing in the privilege of helping to bring about the very Themes that had been sung before even Deep Time had begun.

For long and long they labored and they had almost reached completion when Melkor struck without any warning.

****

Rest’ Atarmirëo: The Field of Atar’s Jewel.

Ambarendya: Middle-earth; an attested name, though the usual term was Endórë.

29: Meneldë, Tambë Cemendë

Author’s Note: Please refer to the last chapter for the names of the planets. I will not be consistent with their use. Sometimes I will refer to a planet by its Quenya name, other times by its Valarin name depending on who is speaking. Again, as a reminder, I will be referring to the entire solar system as Atháraphelun, while Earth will be referred to as Ambarhíni.

****

The first notice of the attack came from Lótessë, whose turn it was to ward Tirisambar. Suddenly there was a bombardment of cometary material which acted as a screen for Melkor and his People. One of the largest of the comets plowed between the orbits of the two larger planets of the tri-planetary system, forcing the largest to be knocked completely out of its orbit before Lótessë had time to counteract the measure. The large planet spun almost lazily away into the outer reaches of the system, lost in the stellar cloud that surrounded Atháraphelun. Lótessë watched as it captured one of the small comets that had been used to bombard the system, thus gaining a companion as it made its way outsystem. The other two planets, along with the two smaller satellites, were flung away from the ecliptic so that their orbit now was nearly twenty degrees out of kilter to the rest of the system. Its trajectory was such that Lótessë automatically calculated the new orbit and cringed when she realized there would be times when what was left of Lord Oromë’s creation would actually come further into the system so that it would no longer be the outermost planet.

Lótessë screamed, more in anger and defeat, than from any pain or fear. In the face of overwhelming odds, she did the only sensible thing: she fled inward to Ambarhíni, weeping in shame at the thought of having failed in the trust that her lord and lady had placed in her.

Oromë, in fact, was the first to reach her, assuring her over and over again that she was not to blame. "You did right to come here," he told her once she calmed down. "Melkor’s forces are too many for one to hold off. Now come. Go to your lady and stay by her side. She will need you."

Lótessë seemed mollified by Lord Oromë’s words and soon she was being embraced by Vána, who continued to assure her that all was well.

In the meantime, there was a hasty council above Mahalmambar among the Ayanumuz. Manwë spoke. "We must protect the Children’s World at all costs," he told them and no one disputed this. He then issued orders. "We need to meet Melkor before he reaches the inner system. I do not want him to pass Askhadphelun’s orbit if at all possible."

Ulmo grimaced. "That might be difficult. The orbit is very wide. I would rather bring the line further in."

Manwë responded negatively to that. "Only at the last," he said. "I want to keep Melkor as far from Ambarhíni as possible. My warriors and Oromë’s People will hold the line at Askhadphelun. Námo, you and Irmo bring your People here to Mahalmambar. You are our second line of defense. The rest of you will act as the final line of defense if all goes ill with us."

They all nodded their understanding and were soon off. Vairë and Estë insisted that they join with Irmo and Námo in their line. "You and I have been through too much with Melkor," she told Námo. "I don’t want to lose you."

"You will not," he assured her, giving her a quick embrace and kiss. "You’re stuck with me for all the Ages of Eä and beyond."

So it was agreed and soon all of the Ayanumuz and their People were placed where they were ordered, though Aulë and Ulmo had to be rather firm with a few of their own People who wanted to be at the front. "We will follow Lord Manwë’s plan," Aulë told them. "If I know my Fallen Brother, he will surprise us and we will all have plenty of opportunity to engage the enemy."

Whether the words were prophetic or just based on common sense, it hardly mattered, for it was not long before Melkor’s People pressed the attack. They came from all points, not just along the ecliptic but above and below it as well. The battle was fought within a spherical field in which the Children’s World was the center. The two armies met within the rings of Askhadphelun, and huge chunks of ice and rock were used as weapons by both sides. Electro-magnetic bolts flashed silently across the intervening space. Part of the defensive line was forced back, creating a kind of reversed bulge. Námo realized what was happening and sent Maranwë with half his People to help hold the line. Maranwë, in fact, did better than that: he led his troop not towards the place where Melkor’s minions were forcing Manwë’s People back, but away and then splitting so that half went towards galactic north from the west and the other half did the same from the east, using the Black Hole as a shield. Then they met again behind enemy lines, taking out Melkor’s rearguard. Soon those inside the ‘bulge’ were subdued and then they were thrust away by the single thought of Yavanna who happened to be the nearest Ayanuz.

The battle proceeded with great fury. Manwë oversaw everything from his vantage point at galactic north as he hovered above his own world, directing others as he saw fit. Slowly, however, the line was being drawn back towards Mahalmambar, the Máyar giving way, though they made Melkor’s People pay for every light-second of ground. Ulmo was with him, as was Varda. None of them looked very happy.

"We have the superior numbers," Ulmo stated, "but Melkor’s minions are vicious and their hatred for us is paramount. They will stop at nothing to get what they want."

"Or what Melkor wants," Varda said even as she negligently sent several Dark Máyar tumbling about. One or two found themselves coming dangerously close to the Black Hole, though its event horizon was so narrow none were in danger of falling in. Still, it just infuriated them even more and the attacks escalated to the point where Manwë reluctantly ordered a retreat to the orbit of Nasarphelun. Námo and Vairë were naturally reluctant to abandon their own world, but obeyed nonetheless.

And then, nothing. All battle ceased.

Everyone stopped and stared about. Melkor’s People simply ceased their attack and retreated rather than pursuing the Máyar further into the system. The Máhanumaz met at the top of the volcano where Námo had had his conversation with Atar, leaving the other Ayanumuz to stand watch. By mutual consent they incarnated, standing about the large central caldera.

Manwë spoke first. "Melkor is obviously up to something, but just what escapes me."

"It appears that his initial goal was to take Mahalmambar," Námo ventured, "though I fail to see how that helps him."

"He means to hem us in, I suspect," Varda said, "though for what purpose I cannot say."

"It’s almost as if he’s waiting for something," Aulë stated musingly.

Several of them nodded in agreement. "The question remains, though," Námo said, "waiting for what?"

None of them had any answers.

"Should we try to force him out of the system?" Oromë asked, but Manwë shook his head.

"I do not like the idea of going on the offensive," the Eldest stated. "There is the possibility that Melkor is setting a trap for us. I would like to avoid it if I may."

"We may not have any choice," Varda stated coldly, her eyes glittering dangerously under the light of her stars.

Manwë nodded. "I know," he said, "but something about all this does not sit right with me. Something else is going on."

"How long do you think we have?" Námo asked, his expression almost feral. There was a coldness in his demeanor that sent shivers down more than one back, though Vairë merely put her hand in his. Námo looked at her and smiled and it was as if a hundred stars had gone nova all at the same time.

Aulë had his own question. "Do you think it was wise to let so much of the system fall under Melkor’s control? Granted, it will be easier to defend a smaller sphere of conflict, but having Melkor at Mahalmambar...."

"Or Phainaphelun," interjected Vairë, her expression bleak at the thought of what Melkor might do to her and Námo’s world.

Aulë nodded. "Or Phainaphelun, brings him too close to Ambarhíni for comfort."

Manwë nodded, his expression less calm than normal. "I agree, but the viciousness of the attack is something none of us expected. I fear it will only get worse and it may even destroy Atháraphelun."

That thought stopped them cold and more than one face registered shock, dismay and even disbelief at the idea of seeing Atar’s plans for the Children thwarted in such a way.

"It will be as it will be," Varda intoned calmly, her expression hardening to resolve. "Our task is to preserve what we may. If only Ambarhíni survives this war it will be enough. The other worlds, dear to us in their own way as they are, are not the focus of this conflict."

"You speak rightly, beloved," Manwë replied, casting a smile her way. "Let us therefore speak of defense."

*I would much rather go on the offensive, myself,* Oromë sent Námo a private thought.

*It may come to that,* Námo replied, *but I fear that when that happens most of this quadrant of the galaxy will be destroyed as well. Best to follow Manwë’s lead for now, but keep yourself in readiness for any contingency.*

*I just hope Melkor never reaches Ambarhíni,* Vairë said, Námo having invited her into their conversation. *We’ve put in too much work and I hate having to start over.*

*As Varda says, it will be as it will be,* Námo replied, *and as Atar wills.*

To that there could be no objection, so the three concentrated on Manwë’s instructions for their defense, offering their own ideas where warranted. When all was agreed upon, all but Manwë and Varda unclothed and went to their posts.

****

The waiting was interminable. Many of the Máyar became restless and uncooperative, wanting to take the war to Melkor rather than waiting for Melkor to come to them. Only Manwë’s warrior Máyar, led by Eönwë, and Námo’s People remained calm and focused.

"We’ve been up against Melkor’s warriors before," Námo reminded Maranwë and the others. "They will not hesitate to use whatever weapons they may and we must be prepared to meet force with force, though it goes against our natures to do so. Melkor’s People will not have any such compunction."

The Máyar all nodded. "We will follow thy lead, lord," Maranwë said, speaking for them all.

Then Námo took two of his younger Máyar aside, holding a private conversation. *Elemmartamirë, thou and Morinehtar have a task that I wish for you to perform, though I doubt not that you will resent me for it."

The two Máyar exchanged looks, then Elemmartamirë turned to Námo. *Á quetë, héru, núrolyar lastëar,* she said simply and Morinehtar nodded.

*I would have you guard the Lady Vairë for me,* Námo told them, humbled that they would be so willing to do his bidding though they knew not what it was.

*Doth not thy lady have her own guards, lord?* Morinehtar asked, sounding puzzled at the request.

*Yea, she doth,* Námo conceded, *but I would have you beside her for my own sake. I trust you to protect her.*

Elemmartamirë gave her lord a shrewd look, then smiled wickedly. *Thou meanest, lord, that thou wishest for us to keep thy lady out of trouble.*

Námo had the grace to blush at being caught out. *That, too,* was all he said.

For a moment the two Máyar did not respond, bespeaking one to the other in ósanwë while Námo waited patiently for their answer.

*Thou dost not command us to this task, lord?* Morinehtar asked.

*Nay, I do not,* Námo stated, but would not elaborate.

*Then, lord,* Morinehtar said, *rest assured that Elemmartamirë and I will do all in our power to protect the Lady Vairë and to keep her out of harm’s way.*

*And may Atar have mercy on any who seek to prevent us from fulfilling thy wishes, lord,* Elemmartamirë added, her aura going from its placid green to a deep purple as she spoke her vow, her demeanor cold and purposeful.

*That is well, my children,* Námo said, *but be mindful of your own safety. I would not lose either of you.*

*What should we say to thy lady if she asks why we are guarding her?* Elemmartamirë asked, ever practical about such things.

Námo smirked. *Tell her anything you wish, just don’t mention my name in the telling.*

Both Máyar laughed aloud at that. *We will do our best to keep thy identity a secret, lord,* Morinehtar said with a smirk of his own.

Námo nodded. *I thank you, my children. My heart will be the lighter knowing that two whom I trust implicitly will be watching over my lady.*

*The honor is ours, lord,* Morinehtar said with a bow, which Elemmartamirë echoed. *Our joy is in serving thee in all ways.*

Unbeknown to Námo, Vairë was having a similar conversation with two of her own Máyar, Ancalequirindë and Ardalanyamo. "Ye understand what I ask of you, my children?"

The two Máyar nodded in acquiescence. "Aye, lady, we do," Ardalanyamo said. "We are to make sure thy lord comes to no harm."

"But what should we say if he questions why we are always beside him during the conflict?" Ancalequirindë enquired.

Vairë merely shrugged. "Whatever you wish, so long as my name is not mentioned." She gave them both a meaningful stare and the two Máyar grinned, giving their lady a bow before going off to carry out their duty.

****

It seemed that the lull continued on for some time, though the uncertainty of what would happen next made it seem longer for most of them. It was three of Manwë’s People — Manveru, Fionwë, and Olórin — who alerted the Ayanumuz to a possible resumption of hostilities. The three were stationed a hundred and twenty degrees to galactic north, each patrolling a third of the northern sky.

"Something’s coming," Olórin stated to his fellow watchers. He was looking out along the galactic arm in the direction of galactic east and noticed a brightening of that area.

"Is it a nova?" Fionwë ventured.

Manveru’s aura indicated confusion. "If it is it’s the brightest nova I’ve ever witnessed." He turned to Olórin. "Go, tell lord Manwë," he ordered.

Olórin complied, thinking himself away. It had been decided earlier that any reports were to be given directly to the Eldest in person rather than through ósanwë. "That way we keep rumors and the possibility of betrayal to a minimum," Varda explained and the others agreed with her assessment.

Olórin appeared at the top of the mountain on Erumëambar, giving Manwë and Varda his obeisance. "My lord, something approaches along the following coordinates," he reported, sending the spatiotemporal coordinates at the same time. "It looks like a supernova, but Manveru doubts that is what it is. Besides which, it appears to be on a trajectory for this system."

"He’s making his move," Varda said to her spouse.

Manwë nodded. "For the moment we should concentrate our forces along that particular perimeter, just to be on the safe side." No one objected and soon orders were given and received and a contingent of Máyar made their way to where Manveru and Fionwë, now rejoined by Olórin, were still on guard.

"Any idea what is approaching?" Erunáro asked his brother as his troop joined the others at the perimeter.

"No, but I think we’re about to find out," Manveru replied calmly and then there was no more time for speculation.

For a fatal moment of stunned disbelief, the Máyar, joined by Ulmo and Nessa, just stared at what was approaching. There were three stars, all of them blue-white supergiants, and they were moving towards Atháraphelun.

"That’s impossible," one of the Máyar finally said, voicing everyone else’s thoughts.

"Try telling that to those stars," Ulmo rejoined with a humorless chuckle. "Stay back, all of you," he ordered. "Nessa and I will deal with these."

So saying he and his fellow Ayanuz started to exert pressure on the oncoming stars to at least put them on a different trajectory that would avoid Atháraphelun. But that was a mistake, one that would cost them dearly. As soon as the slightest pressure from their combined wills touched the stars, they all exploded into incandescence and out of the fiery hell that had been unwittingly unleashed came three of Melkor’s people, seemingly transformed into beings of pure nuclear fire.

For a split second before the beings found their orientation and began to attack, Ulmo had time for a single thought: I think we now know what Melkor was up to in Varda’s nursery. Then there was no more time for thought as war came upon them with a vengeance.

****

Meneldë, Tambë Cemendë: ‘In the Heavens, So On Earth’.

Note: This title is an adaptation of the phrase used by Tolkien in translating the Lord’s Prayer (Paternoster) into Quenya (final version). There he has the phrase "Cemendë tambë Erumandë", translated into English as "On earth as it is in heaven". Earlier versions of this prayer used ‘Meneldë’ for ‘in heaven’. Menel, however, speaks specifically to ‘the firmament, the high heavens, the region of the stars’, while Eruman, literally ‘the Blessed Dwelling of Eru’, would be ‘Heaven’ as the place to which good souls go after death. I use menel in the sense of ‘the region of the stars, the rest of Eä’.

Á quetë, héru, núrolyar lastëar: ‘Speak, lord, thy servants are listening’.

30: The Battle of Twelve Suns

Warning: The intensity and violence of some of the scenes in this and in subsequent chapters describing various battles between the Ayanumuz and Melkor and their aftermath may prove problematic for some readers. This is the only warning I will give for this.

****

"What was that!?" Varda exclaimed as she helped Manwë oversee the battle from the top of the mountain on Erumëambar where Námo had had his encounter with Atar and which they were beginning to refer to as Dáhanigwishtelgun.

"Trouble," was Manwë’s only reply as he attempted to gauge what was happening. Ulmo was trying to tell him something, something important, but his thoughts were scattered as he battled against this unexpected foe. The Urushigasumaz, as Aulë was calling these particular Úmáyar, were far more dangerous than any of Melkor’s other warriors and Ulmo’s attention was more on them and protecting Nessa and the Máyar than on speaking to Manwë.

"There are several more of those blue-white supergiants heading our way," Eönwë reported. "They are approaching from different quadrants."

"Those are my stars!" Varda shouted in fury. "How dare he!"

"Twelve altogether," Manwë mused. "Interesting, but a bit of an over-kill, brother."

Before Manwë could issue any orders concerning the new threat, several of the Ayanumuz unwittingly followed Ulmo and Nessa’s lead and tried to push the stars into different trajectories. That, however, was the wrong thing to do, for their thoughts acted as a trigger to release the Urushigasumaz from their prisons. Suddenly the Ayanumuz and Máyar were battling not just Melkor’s usual troops but twelve incredibly strong beings of pure nuclear fire.

"Damn!" Námo shouted at Oromë from where they were stationed below the ecliptic one hundred-eighty degrees south of where Nasarphelun was located. "He must have set the trigger so that if any of us tried to push the stars away with our thoughts it would just release these monsters."

Oromë merely nodded, too busy trying to protect Roimendil and Tilion from the nuclear blasts of the foe to answer.

The battle was fast and furious. All along the ecliptic electromagnetic bolts and nuclear fire shot silently across space. Where the Urushigasumaz missed and their fire hit one of the planets instead, huge clouds of nuclear fallout would bloom upon the planet’s surface, or, in the case of the gas giants, would simply be swallowed up by the tidal forces that governed them. Several of these nuclear explosions were occurring on Ambarhíni itself, much to the horror and dismay of the Ayanumuz and their Máyar servants.

Námo and Vairë led their People up across the ecliptic and towards where the remnant of Tirisambar orbited. Melkor’s army had ignored it in its push towards Mahalmambar. From there the two Ayanumuz could see more clearly what was happening.

"Manwë is too hemmed in to really see what he needs to know," Námo said and assigned Maranwë the task of relaying to the Eldest all that they were seeing. "Look!" Námo pointed. "Those three Urushigasumaz coming north over the black hole are going to hit Aulë’s planet. If they manage to destroy it, we will be left without another base from which to regroup."

Even as he spoke he could see a contingent of Máyar headed by Aulë himself rushing towards where the Urushigasumaz were laying down fire upon Urnambar in an attempt to destroy the planet.

"Melkor is moving towards our world, beloved," Vairë observed, her tone tight with anger and sorrow mixed.

"I know, but it cannot be helped," Námo replied. "I still think it was a mistake for Manwë to retreat to Erumëambar."

"I just wish we could do something to stop Melkor from taking our world," Vairë retorted.

Námo gave her a brief hug and kiss. "He can take our world, but he can never take us."

Vairë gave him an amused look. "Since when have you become so poetic?"

Námo merely smirked. "Surprised you, haven’t I?"

Before Vairë could respond to Námo’s smugness, Maranwë called out. "Lord, we’ve got company!"

Námo looked to see where Maranwë was pointing and saw that two of the fiery beings had emerged not far from them and were heading their way. "Look sharp, people," he ordered. "Try not to get fried."

Engaging these beings of pure nuclear fire in the usual ways did not work. They were very nearly unstoppable and it actually took the combined efforts of two and sometimes even three of the Ayanumuz to handle just one. The Máyar, to their everlasting dismay, found that even a concerted effort on their part did little to deter these Úmáyar. Námo ordered several of his and Vairë’s combined forces to lend them their strength, keeping the rest in reserve. When one of Aulë’s People attempted to grapple with one and found himself being seared by fire unquenchable, they realized that they could never allow any of the Urushigasumaz within touching distance. Estë was unsure if the unfortunate Máya would ever fully recover.

"Ready?" Námo asked Vairë.

"Always," came the quick reply.

When several nearby Máyar snickered knowingly, both Ayanumuz glared at them, then gave each other grins before turning their attention back to the approaching enemy. The two Úmáyar separated, intending to come at them from two fronts, forcing the Ayanumuz to split their attention and their resources.

"They’re not going to make it easy for us, are they?" Námo muttered sourly as he sent a bolt of pure power fueled by his anger and frustration into the heart of the one facing him.

"Have they ever?" Vairë retorted, dealing out an electromagnetic bolt at her own attacker who neatly dodged it.

Námo, Vairë and their Máyar were keeping the larger of the two planetoids between them and the Urushigasumaz who were using the smaller world as their own shield. There was much dodging back and forth as bolts of energy and fire flared silently between the two parties. Nuclear explosions and planetary quakes rocked the worlds and without realizing it the battlers were actually pushing what was left of Tirisambar into a new orbit that was a few degrees closer to the plane of the ecliptic though it was still obliquely skewed.

All this time Námo and Vairë fought on different fronts each with half of their Máyar helping. There was no separation of the Máyar either — Maranwë and Calimo were actually fighting in Vairë’s camp while some of Vairë’s People were fighting with Námo. It did not matter. In this they were all as one in their desire to protect their lord and lady.

Indeed, several of the Máyar kept very close to the two Ayanumuz, wanting to protect them without necessarily getting in their way. Ardalanyamo and Ancalequirindë especially were mindful of their lady’s orders and stuck as close to Námo as they dared without being obvious about it. Neither were aware that Elemmartarirë and Morinehtar were doing the same for Vairë.

Námo suddenly ‘grabbed’ Ancalequirindë and she felt her energy flowing out of her and into him as several energy bolts and flames of pure star stuff flashed soundlessly in the space between them and the enemy. She steeled herself for the energy drain, not expecting that such a demand would be made of her by an Ayanuz to whom she had not given allegiance. Yet, dimly she realized that in this war there were no divisions other than ‘us’ and ‘them’. She was a Máya and her very existence was based on service to the Ayanumuz, whoever they were. It was how Atar had made her and all her Máyar brethren.

Ancalequirindë stared at the oncoming Urushigasaz, even as she continued to lend her strength to Námo, thinking that he looked familiar to her, though she could not be sure. There was something in the monster’s aura that resonated with her but she couldn’t quite place it. Why did this fiery being seem so familiar to her?

Suddenly, the Úmáyar attacking Vairë rushed the Ayanuz, intending on grabbing her. Her cry of alarm distracted Námo enough that he turned his attention away from his own attacker for just a split second, just long enough to send the foe attacking his beloved spinning into the far reaches of space with the aid of several Máyar. It was a split second he could not afford, for that left him open to the other Urushigasaz’s attack and at that moment Ancalequirindë recognized who it was.

"Phanairushur, no!" she screamed even as she attempted to place herself in front of Námo to protect him from the nuclear fire aimed at him. She only caught the edge of the attack, for her energy was even more depleted than she had realized and she moved too slowly, yet it was enough to send her into convulsions and her screams rent the very fabric of the universe. Námo, hearing her, turned just in time to suffer the full brunt of the attack and his own screams were added to hers.

The heat he was expecting from the flames enveloping him never came. Instead, he was surrounded by searing cold fire. This was not the welcoming warmth of normal star cores around which he had slept. This was a cold he had never imagined before and it consumed him like a dark wave of corruption. He had only a second or so to spare before consciousness fled to grab Ancalequirindë and drag her out of the line of fire. Even as his mind fled into darkness he heard the Máya whisper, "M-my brother... th-that was m-my brother," and then he heard no more.

****

Námo came slowly to consciousness and wished that he hadn’t. Pain the like of which he had never experienced, not even under Melkor’s torture, coursed through him and he wanted to scream but did not have the strength. He must have made some sort of sound though, for suddenly, Vairë was there beside him, or perhaps she had always been there and he only just now noticed as the pain began to subside and become more manageable.

"Hush, love," she whispered.

"What happened?" he asked, struggling to keep conscious. "Ancalequirindë?"

"Estë and Irmo are with her."

That was Oromë. Námo gave him a sour grin. "I think I forgot to duck," he said and Oromë chuckled, though there was no real humor in it.

"Apparently," he said. "You and Ancalequirindë were very fortunate."

"Fortunate?" Námo exclaimed in disbelief. "You call this fortunate?"

"You’re both with us," Oromë retorted. "Though it looks as if Ancalequirindë will be very weak for some time to come." He looked sad at that.

"What happened?" Námo insisted a second time.

"Ancalequirindë was too weak to deflect the bolt meant for you," Vairë told him.

"Weak? Why weak?" He was struggling to remember that last battle but his fëa was still pain-wracked and his memory hazy.

"You don’t remember taking most of her energy to help combat the enemy?" Vairë asked softly.

Námo just stared at her in stunned disbelief at the ramifications of her words. He groaned. "She... she said he was her brother."

Oromë nodded. "So we’ve since learned. At any rate, she tried to shield you but her own powers were depleted and she could only deflect the fire slightly." He grimaced. "It wasn’t enough to stop you from receiving the worst of it but it was enough to incapacitate you both. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re even conscious. Ancalequirindë is still out and your brother doesn’t think she will ever fully recover."

"Why was she even there?" Námo demanded somewhat angrily. "What business did she even have, jumping in front of me like that?"

"Because I asked her to," Vairë answered softly.

Námo stared at her in shock. "You what?"

"I asked her and Ardalanyamo to stay by you and protect you for me." Vairë’s expression was bleak and there was a sense of guilt in it.

"Just as you asked Elemmartamirë and Morinehtar to watch over Vairë," Oromë added, attempting to deflect Námo’s ire.

Námo sighed, looking both chagrined and embarrassed as Vairë gave him a considering look. "Where are we?" he asked, hoping to change the direction of their conversation to something safer.

"Erumëambar," Oromë answered.

"How did we escape?"

"When you and Ancalequirindë went down," Vairë said, "I was so afraid for you both and angry with myself for allowing you to be distracted that I simply tore into the Úmáya."

"She and all the other Máyar bombarded Phanairushur until there was little left of him," Oromë added with a grim smile. "Then, Vairë opened a way into Cúma and thrust him out of Eä."

"It will be a long time before he finds his way back, if he ever does."

They all looked up to see Manwë and Varda approaching. "Ancalequirindë has regained consciousness," the Eldest told them,"though it is doubtful she will be able to fight again."

"How are you faring, Námo?" Varda asked solicitously.

"I’ve been better," Námo admitted, "but I’ll survive. How goes the battle?"

"Poorly, for us," Manwë averred with a sigh, his expression troubled. "We’ve managed to neutralize three of the Urushigasumaz, but the other nine are still active."

"What are your plans?" Oromë enquired.

"For the moment, nothing," Manwë replied. "Melkor seems to have pulled his People back for the moment, so we are enjoying a respite, though for how long is anyone’s guess."

"What of Ambarhíni?" Námo asked.

"We still hold it along with Nasarphelun and Azulezphelun. Ambarhíni, however, has been ravaged by nuclear fire." Manwë sighed. "I’m afraid we have our work cut out for us once this is over. Much will need to be rebuilt."

Námo sighed, feeling suddenly weary.

"You should rest while you can, love," Vairë said, giving him a kiss.

"Vairë is correct, Námo," Varda interjected when Námo started to protest. "There is naught you can do at the moment. Best to rest and regain your strength."

"Ancalequirindë...."

"Will do well enough," Manwë assured him. "She may never be the Máya that she was but she will be well, I promise you."

"She should never have tried to deflect that blast."

"Perhaps not," Oromë admonished him, "but I think if you were to ask her she would beg to differ. She did what she did out of love for both you and Vairë. Do not belittle her sacrifice out of a sense of guilt or whatever. She deserves better from you."

For a moment Námo said nothing, then he sighed. "You are right, of course," he finally said, though he would not look at any of them.

"I’m always right, Little Brother," Oromë rejoined with a smirk. "Haven’t you figured that out yet?"

Námo’s rude reply was lost in the laughter that rang from the rest of them.

****

During the lull in the battle the Ayanumuz took an inventory of the damage wrought so far.

"Well, Tirisambar has been dislocated," Manwë gave them the report from their outpost atop Dáhanigwishtelgun, "and all those stars going nova as they did and so close to this system, Nienna’s planet has been... um... knocked on its side so that its north pole is facing insystem. We’ve collected a fair number of new satellites which the gas giants have captured thanks to Melkor’s cometary screen. We still hold the inner system from Nasarphelun but now Melkor has moved his base of operations to Phanaiphelun."

"How much damage has Ambarhíni sustained?" Námo asked. He had been too busy fighting and then recovering from his injuries to bother to see for himself.

Manwë shook his head. "We’ll have to rebuild most of it. There has been too much nuclear fallout from the Urushigasumaz’s fire. Even this planet has seen its fair share of hits but the focus has been on the Children’s world."

"Where are the Urushigasumaz?" Oromë asked. He had lost track of what was going on when Vairë had called for help in bringing Námo and Ancalequirindë to safety.

"The last report from the Máyar has them at Phanaiphelun," Ulmo said. He gave them a wry grin. "I think Melkor was a bit put out losing three of them. I have the feeling he’s rethinking his plans in light of that."

"Which means we should as well," Námo said. "It’s time we went on the offensive, Manwë. We cannot just sit back and wait for Melkor to make all the moves. Those Urushigasumaz need to be eliminated. They are the greatest threat to our existence and to Ambarhíni."

"What do you propose?" Manwë asked somewhat doubtfully.

Námo nodded to Oromë who answered. "I can take a few of my warriors and hunt them down. I’ve been watching how they fight and what effect they have on us and I think I see a way of taking them out, though it will not be easy."

"How successful do you think you will be?" Varda asked.

Oromë shrugged. "Won’t know that until I try. I will need help from at least one other Ayanuz. I want to try to trap as many of the Urushigasumaz as possible and eliminate them all at once. After the first attack we will lose the element of surprise."

"And what are the rest of us doing while you are on your... um... hunt?" Aulë asked with some amusement.

"Creating a diversion," Námo said. "We need to keep Melkor occupied while Oromë and I deal with the Urushigasumaz."

"You?" Vairë demanded. "You’re barely able to see straight. Why are you helping Oromë?"

Námo gave her a meaningful stare. "Because for Oromë’s plan to work we may need to destroy Ezellambar and I want to be there when that happens."

There was absolute silence at that as the others stared at Námo and Oromë in disbelief. Finally Manwë spoke. "You’ve both been planning this all along, haven’t you?"

"When the Urushigasumaz appeared and we saw what we were up against," Oromë answered, "it was obvious to me that something drastic might need to be done to stop them. Námo and I have devised a plan that may work, but there is no guarantee and we could just end up making things worse for us."

"At least if we attempt this, we may win," Námo added, "but if we just sit here and wait for Melkor to attack again, we will surely lose."

"They have a point," Ulmo said, speaking to Manwë who still seemed reluctant to agree to their plan. "I wouldn’t mind taking a shot at those Úmáyar again myself."

Oromë grinned. "If we fail you may get your wish."

"What sort of diversion were you thinking of?" Aulë asked.

Now Oromë hesitated and the abashed look he and Námo shared did not go unnoticed by the others. "Er... well... I’m not sure you’re going to like it...." he stammered.

Manwë gave him a wry grin. "I don’t like it already, youngster, but you might as well tell us so we can all be dismayed together."

After another moment’s hesitation, Oromë proceeded to tell them. When he finished outlining the plan he and Námo had devised there was a long silence. Then Manwë sighed. "So be it."

****

"I’m going with you, and it’s not debatable," Vairë told Námo and Oromë some time later as they were finalizing their plans.

"Vairë...."

"No, Námo. If you’re going to destroy our world you’re going to do it with me beside you."

The set look she gave him convinced Námo of the fruitlessness of arguing and he simply shrugged. "Fine, come if you want," he said with bad grace. Vairë tried hard not to smirk but she wasn’t completely successful.

"Actually, having another with us might help," Oromë said in a reasonable tone. "I really don’t think taking our Máyar with us will do much good. It takes too many of them working in concert to deal with just one of the Urushigasumaz."

"Who else were you going to take?" Vairë asked.

"Roimendil, Tilion and Ulcuroitar," Oromë answered. "I think Námo was thinking of bringing Maranwë and Calimo."

"Not Morinehtar?" Vairë asked.

Námo indicated denial. "He would come if I asked but he does not wish to leave Ancalequirindë’s side. I think they have feelings for one another."

Vairë looked at him in surprise. "I did not know."

Námo gave her a sour grin. "Neither did they... until now."

"Ah...." was Vairë’s only comment.

"Are we ready then?" Oromë asked.

Námo and Vairë nodded. "I will have Ardalanyamo join us if I may," she said.

Námo and Oromë indicated their consent and so three Ayanumuz and six Máyar set out to eliminate the Urushigasumaz knowing that they might well have to destroy a planet to do so.

****

Dáhanigwishtelgun: (Valarin) The original name for Taniquetil.

Urushigasumaz: (Valarin) Plural of Urushigasaz: Fiery-heat Ones. Constructed word based on what little is known of Valarin.

Úmáyar: (Quenya) Maiar who became evil and followed Melkor, literally ‘un-Maiar’.

Phanairushur: (Valarin) ‘Bright Fire’.

Author’s Note: The idea of the twelve suns and Oromë ‘hunting’ them is inspired by an ancient Chinese legend, which I discovered while living in China. The original legend has nine suns but I made it twelve for this story because the Eldar use a base-12 counting system. According to the legend, there was a time when nine suns ruled the heavens, making it impossible for life to flourish on earth, for their heat parched the land so no crops could grow and all the waters had dried up. In the midst of their agony the people call upon a Hero to hunt down and destroy the suns. The Hero eventually tracks them to a tree where they are resting and one by one he shoots them with his arrows until only one sun remains. He spares that sun and that’s why we only have one in the sky now and why life is able to flourish on our planet.

31: The Death of Hope

The plan was deceptively simple but its execution would be difficult. Manwë and the other Ayanumuz would create a diversion while Námo, Oromë and Vairë with their six Máyar made their way to Phanaiphelun where they hoped to trap as many of the Urushigasumaz as possible and perhaps even some of Melkor’s other troops and eliminate them. Just how they were to do that was still something they hadn’t figured out yet.

"We need to make ourselves a target they cannot resist," Oromë said with a feral grin as they hid themselves on an errant asteroid, waiting for the signal from Manwë. The asteroid, making its slow way insystem from above the ecliptic, was still in the vicinity of Mahalmambar’s orbit.

"Nay, lord," Roimendil objected. "We need to make ourselves the target," — indicating himself and his fellow Máyar — "while you and Lord Námo and Lady Vairë set the trap."

"He’s correct," Námo said, forestalling Oromë’s objection. "We Ayanumuz are the only ones capable of defeating the Urushigasumaz and it’s debatable that we will even be successful."

"What exactly do we need to do?" Vairë asked, for she had not been privy to the discussion between Námo and Oromë earlier.

Námo it was who answered her. "We need to trap as many of the Úmáyar on Phanaiphelun as we can, then destroy the planet in such a way that the cataclysm will, if not eliminate them, at least render them unable to retaliate long enough for us to shove them into the Void. It would be ages, if ever, before they could reconstitute themselves and become a threat to us again."

"That’s why you wanted to be there, isn’t it?" Vairë asked Námo quietly.

Námo gave her a sympathetic look. "I thought one of us should be there when our... world came to an end."

"Not an end," Vairë insisted. "Merely a new beginning that will herald the retaking of Atháraphelun from Melkor."

Námo grinned and took her into his embrace, giving her a swift kiss. "Now I know why I need to marry you," he said with a laugh.

"But you haven’t properly proposed to me," Vairë retorted with a grin of her own. "If you don’t hurry up I might end up accepting Oromë’s proposal instead."

Námo gave Vairë a disbelieving look and glanced at a flustered Oromë whose usual bright orange aura was now tinged with green shading to blue with embarrassment. "I would never... I mean... I’m not... we’re not...that is I didn’t..."

"That’s a lot of negatives in there," Námo couldn’t help but tease his friend. Then he turned to Vairë with a sly grin. "Methinks the Ayanuz protesteth too much."

Vairë actually giggled and Oromë’s aura turned a deep red-orange before returning to its more natural hue as his humor was restored, realizing that both Vairë and Námo had been teasing him, and themselves. The Máyar wisely remained silent.

"Lord Námo," Maranwë said, "I think something is happening."

They all gazed outward and beheld a rather curious sight. "Why is Lord Aulë moving his planet?" Tilion asked rather stupidly, not entirely sure he was seeing things correctly.

"Perhaps he was tired of the view," Námo said with a straight face, though he and Oromë were laughing silently at the expressions of disbelief exhibited by the Máyar, for, of course, they had not been told of the plan in its entirety. Vairë just gave them a scathing look but neither appeared repentant.

The Máyar watched in stunned amazement as Azulezphelun began slowly moving outsystem, bypassing the orbit that would someday be filled by a planet of hope for the Children, to settle in an orbit around Ambarhíni itself.

"What does Lord Manwë hope to accomplish by..." Ardalanyamo started to ask when the answer became obvious.

"Ah... Melkor just hates it when one of us flaunts our powers in his face, doesn’t he?" Oromë said with a wicked grin. "Time to go."

Indeed it was. Even as Aulë’s world was making its way towards Ambarhíni, several of Melkor’s troops, with Melkor taking the lead, made their way from Phanaiphelun towards Ambarhíni. The orbits of the various planets were such that at this juncture the Children’s world was nearly aligned with Phanaiphelun while Erumëambar was on the other side of the black hole from them. It was one reason Oromë and Námo had elected not to remain on Erumëambar. They would be in a better position to strike Phanaiphelun from ‘behind’ as it were.

By now their asteroid base was crossing Phanaiphelun’s orbit but still at an angle of about ten degrees above the ecliptic. Its present orbit would eventually bring it close enough to the black hole to draw it into a tighter orbit. Someday, perhaps before the Children ever awoke, the asteroid would eventually find itself plunging past the black hole’s event horizon to be forever lost. For now, though, it served as a convenient base of operations for the Ayanumuz. It was typical of Melkor and his People that they simply ignored it as being too insignificant to offer them a threat, thus none of them ever bothered to scan the heavens outsystem for possible attacks from that direction. In their arrogance, it simply never occurred to them that their opponents would be that devious.

"Or rather that Manwë would be that devious," Oromë had corrected Námo when he had mentioned it earlier as they were making their plans. "I think that in our Fallen Brother’s mind, he’s fighting against Manwë alone, for they are true brothers in Atar’s Thought, something that I think Melkor always resented. The rest of us are... inconvenient annoyances, but Melkor’s hatred is squarely focused on Manwë and his contempt for his brother is obvious."

"His contempt and stupidity," Námo had offered with a sneer, "especially if he ignores the fact that not all of us are as innocent of guile as our Eldest Brother."

Oromë had merely grinned at that.

Now they were seeing the fruits of that deviousness taking form before their eyes. Námo automatically gave everyone the planetary coordinates for a certain lake on one of the smaller landmasses in the southern hemisphere of Phanaiphelun. They had been able to determine that Melkor and his troops were primarily stationed on the largest landmass which straddled the equator. Their destination was on the opposite side of the planet and they were hoping that in the confusion of the diversion, their presence would go unnoticed, at least at first.

"Interesting that he leaves his Urushigasumaz behind," Calimo offered.

"He lost three in the first skirmish," Oromë answered. "He may not want to risk them until he knows he can use them with impunity. I don’t think he thought we would learn how to counteract them as quickly as we did. I think he hoped to overwhelm us with their incredible powers."

"It almost succeeded," Vairë pointed out as they emerged beside the lake which was dimly reflecting the starlight above them.

"Which is why we want to get rid of them now," Námo said. "Melkor made the mistake of dividing them into small groups. He should have kept them as a single unit. They would have been more effective and more devastating. We would have had no hope of stopping them."

"Then we should thank Atar for small favors," Oromë said with a grin and the rest of them nodded.

Námo turned his attention to the six Máyar. "What are your thoughts?"

The six Máyar gave each other quick glances before Roimendil, who seemed to be their unofficial leader, spoke. "We know where they are located. We were thinking of coming at them by way of the planetary core."

"That’s what we need to do," Námo said with a nod. "They need to be drawn into the core, at which point we will trigger the explosion. That should hopefully incapacitate them long enough to deal with them."

"They are unlikely to detect your approach if you pass through the core," Oromë agreed. Then his expression became stern and he spoke next as one of the Máhanumaz, "but I tell you now that none of you are to engage in combat with them. Taunt them, insult them, make them angry, whatever you wish, but your task is to bring them to the core, nothing more. As soon as you reach the core you are to think yourselves immediately to these coordinates." He gave them the spatiotemporal coordinates for Erumëambar and Dáhanigwishtelgun. "Await us there, or if Lord Manwë desires you elsewhere, obey his commands. Is that clear?"

Roimendil, Tilion and Ulcuroitar gave their lord reluctant nods, clearly unhappy at their orders, for they had hoped to play a more active role in this war. Maranwë, Calimo and Ardalanyamo, however, looked to their own lord and lady to assure themselves that Lord Oromë’s orders applied to them as equally as they applied to his own Máyar. When Námo and Vairë both indicated that indeed the orders applied to them all, they too nodded their acceptance of their orders, little though they liked them.

"It will be as thou commandest, lord," Roimendil said with a bow and the others all followed with their own obeisance.

"That is well, my children," Oromë replied, sounding less forbidding. "We value you all too much to wish to lose you needlessly. There will be other battles. Do not think we will defeat them completely. Melkor is more powerful than you can truly comprehend and I fear this war will be waged in one form or another for ages to come."

"Go now with Atar’s blessings and ours," Námo intoned and Vairë gave them all a quick embrace and kiss in benediction, which seemed to embarrass them, much to the Ayanumuz’s amusement.

Without another word the six Máyar disappeared. Oromë turned to his fellow Ayanumuz. "We’ll give them enough time to pass the core before we start setting up the detonation."

Námo and Vairë stared out upon the lake... their lake. It was their favorite spot on the entire planet and they were both grateful that Melkor had ignored it for the larger landmass. *Whatever happens, at least we can remember this place and know that Melkor never touched it,* Námo bespoke Vairë on their private frequency. Her only response was to draw closer into his embrace as they waited for the Máyar to complete their part of the mission.

****

They waited until they sensed that the planet had completed twenty degrees of its rotation from when they first emerged by the lake before willing themselves inside the planetary core. The molten core was much cooler than the heart of even the coolest red giant, but it would serve their purpose. At this point Námo took over, his knowledge of chaos physics being greater than Oromë’s, though Vairë’s knowledge of the mathematics involved was nearly on a par with Námo’s. Her area of expertise was on the subatomic level and the interweaving of the subparticles to create the whole. Together they would pool their knowledge to destroy the planet that had become, for them, the physical embodiment of their love for one another.

"Here and here," Námo pointed out the weak points in the core. "These two pressure points will do." He sent Oromë a mental picture of what needed to be done and the older Ayanuz nodded.

"How do we shield ourselves?" he asked. "The forces we plan to release will knock us out as easily as it will the Urushigasumaz."

"We don’t shield ourselves," Námo answered with a smile. "We ride the shock waves."

"But..."

"We don’t need to be inside the core to detonate it," Námo explained, flashing Oromë and Vairë a smirk. "At least I don’t."

Oromë turned to Vairë with a scowl. "When this is all over can I smack him silly?"

"You’ll have to get in line behind me," came Vairë’s retort.

Námo merely laughed. Then he went on to explain what he intended. "As soon as our People arrive we begin the detonation sequence. The Urushigasumaz will be right behind the Máyar so as soon as they arrive we attack, keeping them too busy to notice what else is happening. When I give the signal, think yourselves to these coordinates. I’ll do the rest." He flashed them a set of numbers and the other two nodded.

"Sound’s almost too simple," Oromë opined.

"The simpler it is the fewer ways it can go wrong."

"Do you expect it to go wrong?" Vairë asked.

Námo scowled. "It has already gone wrong. Our People should have been here by now."

"Perhaps they’re just giving us more time...."

"Incoming!"

That was Maranwë as he suddenly appeared before them looking frazzled. "We think we managed to lure seven or eight of them, lord," he reported to Námo. "I’m sorry we couldn’t...."

"It matters not," Námo assured him. "You have done well. Go now."

Maranwë hesitated for only a second before complying. Almost as soon as he left the other five Máyar arrived, gave the Ayanumuz their obeisance, and disappeared again. Right behind them came several fiery beings. Námo never hesitated. With a single thought he ‘pushed’ some of the magma boiling around them so that it welled up and engulfed four of the beings before they had time to think, then he blasted them with several electromagnetic bolts. Vairë and Oromë were similarly occupied. The Urushigasumaz, eight in all, bellowed in fury and unleashed their own stellar fire at the three Ayanumuz, who dodged the flares with ease.

There did not seem to be any others of Melkor’s People following so Námo gave the other two Ayanumuz the signal and they thought themselves away. Námo stayed behind just long enough to set the trigger and at the same time cause several tons of molten magma to rain upon the Úmáyar before thinking himself away, mentally counting down the seconds. Even as he emerged into space high above the ecliptic he could sense the pressures building up inside the planet’s core and then the world went incandescent and all around him space warped in strange and unexpected ways.

"What’s happening?" Vairë shouted as she and Oromë joined Námo. "It’s not supposed to do that, is it?"

"No!" Námo exclaimed in horror as he realized he had gravely miscalculated. All around them space was warping as Phaniphelun continued to explode. Much of the force was directed insystem and Ambarhíni was in its direct path.

"Can we stop it," Oromë asked, "or at least deflect it?"

Námo just shook his head, too stunned and heartsick to answer.

"I think we’re too late," Vairë stated bleakly, "and besides, I think we have a bigger problem."

Námo and Oromë stared at where she was pointing and Námo felt sick all over again. Out of the cataclysm that was all that was left of their bright world, figures of fire and shadow were rising. At first, Námo wasn’t sure what he was seeing, and then he somehow realized what had happened. He had been thinking of these beings as just stronger versions of some of Melkor’s other troops, but that, he now knew, was a fallacy. These Urushigasumaz were a different breed of Úmáyar altogether.

"Where are the others?" Oromë asked suddenly, looking confused. "I only count four."

"That explosion should have incapacitated them so why are they still conscious?" Vairë asked almost at the same time.

Námo just pointed. "They’re there, brother," he whispered, deciding to answer Oromë’s question first. "I think those eight that were in the core at the moment of the explosion were... fused into four."

"Are you serious?" Oromë demanded in disbelief.

"Look for yourself," Námo demanded. "Each of those four seem to have a double signature. They are exhibiting the blended aurae of two beings merged into one."

"That’s... that’s.... obscene," Vairë stuttered.

Námo gave her an embrace but said nothing more.

They watched as the four Urushigasumaz rose out of the nuclear fire that surrounded them with something like awe. Then Námo shook himself, forcing the sense of dread that threatened to overwhelm him away. "Quickly, before they get their bearings." At that he launched a preemptive strike against the beings, sending bolt after bolt of electromagnetic forces into them. Oromë and Vairë were right behind him with their own attacks. The Urushigasumaz returned their own fire. Even as Námo dodged the attack, though, he realized something: the Úmáyar’s fire was no longer as deadly as it had been before. Somehow, in the process of merging and perhaps as a consequence of the explosion and subsequent warping of space in that area, their powers had lessened.

That wasn’t to say they were no longer powerful, just the opposite. If anything they were more deadly because their rage now knew no bounds and Námo had a sick sense that part of the rage was fueled by madness as two fëar that should never have been joined were now merging into one, each struggling for dominance over the other.

Which is probably why their aim is off, he thought grimly to himself even as he returned fire for fire. Then, even as they were battling with the four monsters (and they were truly monstrous now in Námo’s opinion) a fifth Urushigasaz emerged from out of the ashes of the planet. This particular Úmáya seemed larger and deadlier than the other four and there was something about its aural signature that seemed familiar. When it turned its attention to Námo he shuddered, for there was a dark sense of being examined and found... desirable.

"Cosmoco." Námo barely whispered the name. He had often wondered why Melkor’s Chief lieutenant had never been around during his time of captivity and now he knew. Cosmoco had been in one of those twelve blue-white supergiants being slowly transformed into one of the Urushigasumaz.

He ‘heard’ the Úmáya laugh and it made his fëa want to scream. All the horror he had experienced under Melkor’s torture came rushing back to him and he felt a dark wave threaten to drown him.

"NO!!"

Námo pulled himself out of the miasma of memory threatening him to look to Vairë who was ignoring the Urushigasumaz and pointing towards Ambarhíni. Huge chunks of what had once been Phanaiphelun had gone spinning into space with the explosion but the additional warping of space had somehow added fuel to their momentum and had directed it, for instead of the damage spreading more or less evenly across space, most of it was heading directly towards Ambarhíni and Urnambar. Enormous tidal forces were rippling across the intervening space between the two planetary orbits. They could see Urnambar wobbling in its place and core-deep cracks begin to form across the surface of the Children’s world. And then...

"Atar save us!" Oromë yelled.

Urnambar was slowly but inexorably being drawn towards the surface of Ambarhíni, its orbit decaying at a rapid rate as incalculable forces bombarded both planets. The three Ayanumuz could hear the panic in the voices of their fellows and in the Máyar trying to stave off disaster, but it was too late. To make matters worse, Melkor suddenly appeared among his Urushigasumaz, ignoring the three Ayamumuz. He gathered them all to him in an obscene embrace.

At that precise moment all the other Ayanumuz along with their Máyar appeared, surrounding Námo, Vairë and Oromë, with Manwë, looking grim, and Varda, looking incensed, at the forefront. Melkor sneered at his brother in Atar’s Thought. "What’s the matter, Little Brother? Are you getting bored?"

"You cannot win, Melkor," Manwë said. "Atar won’t...."

"What? Won’t allow it?" Melkor’s sneer deepened. "You little fool. Atar already has allowed it. Atháraphelun is mine, always will be mine. Your little ploy failed, Manwë."

"You are the greatest of us, Melkor," Manwë nearly pleaded. "You could have done so much for...."

"You are so pathetic, Manwë," Melkor interjected, stopping long enough to fondle one of the Urushigasumaz in a way that left them all feeling soiled. Then he turned back to Manwë. "Go hide, Little Brother. Mayhap Atar will let you come out to play some other day." He gave the same Urushigasumaz another nuzzle and they watched as the Úmáyar gave a shuddering groan of dark delight that nevertheless held a tinge of fear to it. "Come and play, children," Melkor said with a final sneer at the Ayamumuz and left.

"We couldn’t stem the tide," Manwë said to no one in particular, as if trying to explain something to himself... or to Atar. "Melkor had his troops fighting us so furiously we could do nothing to save either planet."

"Atháraphelun is lost to us," Varda said in a voice that was devoid of all emotion.

Námo gazed across space to watch in rising horror as Urnambar fell towards the surface of the larger planet and all around they could see Melkor’s troops playfully lobbing chunks of rock and ice at one another and at the planets now under their control. The Urushigasumaz were at the forefront of throwing their fire around and watching the explosions while Melkor stood to one side and laughed.

"Come," Manwë said. "There is nothing more we can do here. We must flee. Atháraphelun is no longer ours."

With that he sent them all coordinates for Máhanumazphelun and such was the force of his command that none of them, not even Námo, dared disobey.

Seconds later, the Jewel of Atar’s Creation was left in the hands of the enemy.

****

Cosmoco: The Quenya form of Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs.

Máhanumazphelun: The planet where the Máhanumaz, the eight most powerful of the Ayanumuz, often met.

32: The Final Gamble

They gathered on Máhanumazphelun in various states of shock and despair. Manwë’s expression was grimmer than any had ever seen before and Varda was tightlipped, her eyes blazing with a fury that rivaled the nuclear fires of her stars. Aulë’s expression was unreadable, not even Yavanna knew the depth of pain he was feeling at the destruction of his planet, knowing it was also the instrument used to destroy the Children’s World. All the other Valar showed similar expressions of shock, anger, despair and even confusion. Námo’s expression was more abject, even guilty looking, realizing that his miscalculation may have cost them Atháraphelun.

"So, what do we do now?" Vána asked in a small lost-sounding voice. Oromë placed his arm around her slender shoulders and gave her a kiss on her forehead in an attempt to comfort her.

"What we can," he said softly.

"And what exactly is that?" came the sarcastic voice of Nienna. She was holding Estë who was weeping softly. Nienna’s own eyes were wet with tears but she held herself in tight control, refusing to let go yet. Her brothers knew that she would eventually find a private place to release her emotions, but for now she would remain strong, a bulwark of strength for the younger Ayanumuz.

"We fight back."

That was Manwë and they all stared at him with various degrees of shock and surprise, for his tone was implacable and unrelenting. Manwë gave them stare for stare and several of the others had to look away, for the light in his eyes was too terrible even for them to behold for very long. Only Námo and Varda seemed able to hold his gaze longer than the others.

"We fight back," he reiterated coldly, "and we do not stop fighting until Atháraphelun is ours again. Atar’s Children will not be denied their home. I will not accept defeat."

For a long moment there was only silence, then, one by one they nodded, accepting Manwë’s words as their own.

"Let us see to our People first," Varda said. "Some need healing from the wounds gotten in the last battle."

They all nodded to that and one by one they went to succor their Máyar. Manwë stayed Námo with a single gesture and soon they were alone.

"I know you blame yourself for what happened," Manwë said without preamble, "but you must not. If there is any blame it is on my shoulders. I approved of your plan."

"I miscalculated the spatiotemporal distortions that would result from the explosion," Námo started to explain, but Manwë stopped him with a gesture.

"What is done, is done," he intoned. "Let us not waste time with what-might-have-beens and concentrate on what we can do now to change our fortunes."

Námo nodded. "You are correct. Blame and regret are useless and will not win us this war. I am only sorry that our plan did not work as we had hoped."

Manwë nodded and sighed. "As do I, but I do not believe Atar has abandoned us yet. Go now and see to your People. Commend those who helped you in your gamble for their loyalty and sense of duty. I fear they may think that they are somehow to blame for this debacle."

"Yes, I was thinking the same," Námo said, then gave Manwë a grim smile. "I intend to disabuse them of that thought."

Manwë’s only reply was a raised eyebrow as Námo gave him his obeisance and left.

****

The war raged on longer than any of them anticipated. Some time after their flight, the Ayanumuz and their Máyar staged a frontal assault on Atháraphelun. It was not too dissimilar from the one that Melkor had staged earlier but they had no Urushigasumaz on their side to disrupt the enemy. Slowly, incrementally, they regained the outer reaches of the system, making Ullubozphelun their primary base of operations. The remnants of Tirisambar were also theirs and Oromë especially was ruthless in his guarding of that particular outpost.

The bone of contention was Manawenuzphelun. Manwë had decided that capturing that planet would give them the advantage. With Azulezphelun and Phanaiphelun both gone, Melkor would only have Nasarphelun as a base, for Ambarhíni itself was nearly destroyed. All that the Ayanumuz had created was gone. The planet was formless and lifeless. Indeed, the atmosphere was noxious and they would have to spend much time reclaiming it before it could ever be inhabited by even the simplest of life forms, never mind the Children themselves.

In spite of their failure at Phanaiphelun, Oromë and Námo were acknowledged as the leaders of the assault forces. Manwë and Ulmo along with Varda and Nienna acted as planners and coordinators. Aulë headed the groups of Máyar who acted as infiltrators, attempting to sneak past Melkor’s line and sabotage his own defenses. Aulë had a particular grudge against Melkor for the destruction of his own world. Thus, Oromë and Námo often led flashy, brilliantly executed assaults for the single purpose of keeping Melkor’s eyes on them while Aulë and his teams of saboteurs snuck past the enemy’s perimeter to wreak havoc as they might.

It didn’t always work, but it worked often enough that they considered themselves successful in undermining Melkor’s hold on Atháraphelun. There were instances when it seemed as if their plans were known by the enemy ahead of time but there was never any proof that such information was being leaked by any of the Máyar, though both Aulë and Manwë had their suspicions. Aulë even suggested once that they give out false information to see if they could find out where the leaks were coming from but Manwë decided against it.

"We need to trust our People," he said to the Máhanumaz when they were gathered together to hold a war council on Ullubozphelun. The other Ayanumuz were overseeing the perimeter, for Melkor had begun to send his troops against them. "If we start disseminating false information and someone accepts it in good faith and is injured thereby, I do not want that on my conscience."

The others reluctantly agreed, though Námo and Oromë held a private council and spoke quietly among their Máyar. Some of them had their own ideas about who might secretly be in league with Melkor, and their guesses surprised the two Ayanumuz.

"Aulendil has always shown his disdain for Lord Aulë," Maranwë told Námo at one point, "and speaks in ways that echo Melkor’s words."

"He has always considered himself above the rest of us," Roimendil said with a sneer. "Lately he’s even given himself the title ‘Mairon’."

Námo and Oromë exchanged glances at that bit of information. "Yes, but as arrogant as he is, can you prove that he is in league with our Fallen Brother?" Oromë asked mildly.

Neither Máya could give absolute proof that Aulë’s Chief Máya was a renegade and so the matter was dropped for the time being.

The fortunes of war, being fickle, went first to Manwë and then to Melkor. At one point the Ayanumuz actually reached as far insystem as Ashkadphelun but were driven back again to Ulbankeluth. One thing they did notice was that Melkor appeared reluctant to have his Urushigasumaz engage in battle.

"They may be rather unstable yet," Námo surmised. "I do not doubt that those four that have merged are now insane no matter which mind ultimately gains control. That will make them as dangerous for Melkor as for us."

"They could easily turn on their master," Ulmo said, nodding in agreement. "Only Cosmoco appears to have escaped that fate."

"Which makes him even more dangerous," Oromë stated and no one could dispute that.

Time crept across the face of the galaxy as the stars made their slow revolutions around the galactic center and for long periods no one had the upper hand in the war. Then, Manwë decided on a dangerous ploy in hopes of breaking the deadlock and regaining the whole of Atháraphelun once and for all.

"Melkor hates me above all others," he said to the other Ayanumuz as he explained his plan. "Even more than Atháraphelun, he wants me. I intend to give him that."

"And what will that accomplish save that we lose you?" Varda asked, her voice tight with anger and fear for her spouse. She knew well the spite Melkor had for both her and Manwë. She knew her beloved’s brother had never forgiven her for choosing Manwë over him. She also knew that Melkor was merely biding his time before exacting revenge on them both for her decision.

"Melkor’s attention is somewhat fixated," Manwë explained mildly. "He seems incapable of thinking beyond his need for revenge and destruction — revenge against me and destruction of all I hold dear. I intend to let him have his way with me in hopes that in the meantime the rest of you will be able to rout his troops and free Atháraphelun."

"And if we lose you as we almost lost me?" Námo asked coldly, not liking the plan at all. It smacked too much of what he had tried to do in rescuing Vairë and the results of that had been devastating on a personal level. He did not wish for anyone else to suffer that way if at all possible.

Manwë gave Námo a calm look. "The decision is not yours to make." And that was the end of the discussion.

"What do you intend to do, then?" Varda asked, clearly unhappy but resigned.

Manwë gazed lovingly at his spouse. "Set myself up as bait." He raised his hand to silence all protest, his eyes going dark with implacable will. "I want Melkor more than he wants me but not for the same reason."

"A trap," Oromë said.

The Eldest nodded. "So I hope."

"Let us hope he takes the bait," Aulë stated, looking unconvinced.

"While Melkor is fixated on me," Manwë said with grave finality, "the rest of you are to disrupt his forces as best you can. I will deal with my brother."

No one was happy with the plan, but there was little they could do about it. Námo and Oromë held a private conference, laying contingency plans of their own. "Manwë does not understand how vicious Melkor is," Námo said with a tone of disgust. "He little realizes just how dangerous his ploy is. There are so many ways it can go wrong...."

"Have you seen anything specific?" Oromë asked.

"No," Námo answered, "but whenever I look, I see nothing but disaster."

"Should you not tell Manwë this?"

The two Ayanumuz turned to see Vairë and Vána approach. Námo shook his head as he embraced Vairë. "He will not listen to me. His mind is made up."

"Varda is furious," Vána said from the comfort of Oromë’s arms. "She does not show it, but we can tell."

"Stay close to her," Námo told them. "I do not want her doing anything... precipitous."

Vaire snorted. "You mean, stupid."

"That, too," Námo acknowledged with a grin, giving her a kiss.

"What are you two going to do?" Vána asked looking up at Oromë, her eyes narrowing in concern.

"We will stay close to Manwë, or as close as he will allow, and make sure he does nothing... stupid," Oromë replied with a grin.

Vána snickered, returning his grin with one of her own. "You mean, precipitous."

"That, too."

In spite of the seriousness of their situation, the four of them could not help but indulge in laughter, though it held a note of grimness.

****

Manwë’s plan, such as it was, was very simple — at the same time that Aulë and Ulmo staged a diversionary assault, with Aulë leading a contingent of Máyar from above the ecliptic and Ulmo bringing his troops up from the south, all aimed at Nasarphelun, Manwë appeared suddenly on the largest satellite of Ashkadphelun, a known outpost of some of Melkor’s troops. He emerged in the midst of them, blazing like a miniature star, throwing the enemy into a panic, stunning the Úmáyar into insensibility. The few who managed to escape Manwë’s blasts cowered before him or fled.

"Tell my brother that I’m looking for him," Manwë said with cold disdain, then thought himself away before anyone could react.

Three more times he emerged somewhere within Atháraphelun’s system, moving closer towards Nasarphelun. The element of surprise had been lost with his first appearance, but Manwë managed to keep Melkor’s People off-balance by emerging in unexpected places. After Ashkadphelun, his next destination was one of the asteroids now comprising Námo and Vairë’s world.

"No longer will it be called Phanaiphelun," Námo had told them after they had fled the system. "Forever will it now be known as Avatháraphelun."

The area where Manwë emerged was void of life; there was no sign of the enemy anywhere. Manwë made his presence known by the expedience of ‘grabbing’ three nearby asteroids and lobbing them directly at Ambarhíni. At the same time he sent out a call on all frequencies. "You want me brother, come and get me." Then, he disappeared again before any of Melkor’s minions could reach him.

He next emerged, not further insystem, as everyone, even the other Ayanumuz expected, but back at Ashkadphelun, indiscriminately flinging electro-magnetic bolts at the planet one moment and then at the approaching masses of Úmáyar led by Cosmoco the next. Manwë merely sneered as he tumbled them away with a single thought. "Are you a coward, Melkor, that you will not face me yourself?" he called out. Then he left the Úmáyar howling in impotent fury, emerging finally atop Dáhanigwishtelgun.

All this while Námo and Oromë had kept track of Manwë’s movements, waiting for Melkor to make an appearance, but he never showed. Even Aulë and Ulmo indicated concern. They had reached Nasarphelun to find it oddly deserted and had ordered their troops to spread out across the planet and check for enemy outposts, but there were none. When Manwë arrived at the mountain, the three held a hasty conference, then Aulë and Ulmo left Manwë alone.

"Where is he?" Námo cried in frustration. "What is Melkor up to now?"

He and Oromë scanned the immediate area of Atháraphelun and then moved outward to the nearby systems, but nowhere could they sense their fallen brother.

*I like this not, Manwë,* Námo bespoke the Eldest who still stood on Dáhanigwishtelgun, waiting. *Something is wrong. Where is Melkor and why have we not...*

*Varda! No!*

*Vairë!* Námo yelled, recognizing his beloved’s voice, and thought himself to her, only to emerge in the midst of chaos.

All around him a contingent of Úmáyar led by two of the Urushigasumaz were bearing down on Varda and her People. Vairë and Vána were also there. The Ayanumuz had been taken by surprise and were clearly outnumbered. In spite of a valiant effort on everyone’s part, one of the Urushigasumaz managed to get under Varda’s guard and grab her, thinking them both away before Námo or any of the others had a chance to retaliate.

Almost at the same time there was a cry of alarm from Oromë. A quick scan revealed that Melkor had finally shown himself, along with Cosmoco, the other Urushigasaz and a larger than expected contingent of Úmáyar. They were all surrounding Manwë, who was putting up a valiant effort of resistance, but he, too, was outnumbered.

Cosmoco and the Urushigasaz had managed to grab Manwë and now Melkor was pouring bolt after bolt into his brother and laughing as Manwë screamed. "Did you really think your little ploy would work, brother?" Melkor sneered. "I have you and Varda both and I plan to make you watch while I and my... playmates have a little fun with her. Before I am through with you, little brother, you will be begging me to let you join me and I will... as my most devoted slave."

His laughter was pure evil as he continued to pour his malice into Manwë, who writhed in agony. In spite of himself, Námo felt his fëa shrink in horror and disgust, remembering all too well what sort of ‘games’ Melkor and his servants liked to play, especially the ones bearing fire-whips. He felt powerless and none of the other Ayanumuz seemed capable of rallying their People and effecting a rescue of their leader. Where Varda had been taken was anyone’s guess.

Melkor continued laughing as he went on tormenting Manwë, the sound of it ringing through the cosmos, its echo darkening the light of the stars, but after a while he stopped, both his laughter and his torture. The silence that spread outward was shattering and Námo felt himself cringe even more at what it might portend.

"Come, children," they heard Melkor say as he gazed dispassionately at his brother, now nearly insensate with pain, "let us take our prize and go elsewhere to play. We do not want Varda to miss all the fun, do we?"

If he meant to think himself and Manwë away at that point, he never got the chance, for just then, laughter, soft yet clear, filtered through Eä, stunning them all into stillness.

And it was getting louder....

****

Mairon: (Quenya) ‘The Admirable’. According to Tolkien: ‘Sauron’s original name was Mairon, but this was altered after he was suborned by Melkor. But he continued to call himself Mairon the Admirable, or Tar-mairon ‘King Excellent’ until after the downfall of Númenor.’ [Parma Eldalamberon 17:183, italics are original to the text]. As I did not have this information before writing this tale, I have decided it is a title that Sauron gave himself while still acting as Aulë’s Chief Máya. Obviously, some of the other Máyar are not impressed by this.

Avatháraphelun: (Valarin) 'Shadow-Appointed Dwelling'. It was also later called Ascatainambar ‘Broken World’ by the Eldar.

33: The Last Ayanuz

The laughter continued to grow until a pinpoint of light came into existence where none had been previously and before them emerged the last thing any of them expected.... another Ayanuz.

Námo watched in fascination as one of their fellows from the Timeless Halls appeared, his aura a scintillating shade of golden-yellow that nearly rivaled the light of the nearby stars. It was even more interesting to see Melkor’s reaction. The Fallen Ayanuz actually cringed and his minions holding onto Manwë released their prisoner in surprise, whether at the sight of the new Ayanuz or at seeing their lord and master quail before him, Námo could not say. It did not matter, for he took advantage of the situation and thought himself in the midst of the enemy, grabbing Manwë and thinking himself away to where Estë and Irmo were waiting before anyone else could react.

Melkor actually screamed in frustration at losing his prize but he had little time to do anything about it for the newcomer had fully emerged and his first act was to grab the Urushigasaz and fling him merrily away and then seize Cosmoco and begin trouncing him, not giving the Úmáya a chance to retaliate before throwing him down one of the caldera until he disappeared into the bowels of the volcano, all the while laughing.

Námo, having left Manwë in Estë and Irmo’s capable care, then went back to where Oromë and the others were congregating to, as Vairë put it, ‘watch the show’. The stranger Ayanuz — and it was clear to all that this was no mere Máya but indeed one of the Ayanumuz — had apparently tired of Cosmoco and flung him away as easily as he had flung the Urushigasaz. Melkor screamed again in frustration and several of his minions pounced on the newcomer, who never stopped laughing.

"Come. Let us aid our brother," Ulmo said as he appeared among them.

"What about Varda?" Námo asked. "We cannot abandon her."

"Nor will we," Ulmo replied. "But let us first rid us of Melkor and his army."

"I will go in search of Varda," Oromë volunteered, "and at least determine where she has been taken even if I cannot effect a rescue."

Ulmo nodded. "That is well. Go. We will deal with things here."

With that, Oromë left, taking several of his Máyar with him. Ulmo turned to Námo and the other Ayanumuz who had joined them. "I think it’s time to end this."

They all nodded and with their Máyar thought themselves to where the stranger Ayanuz was still beset by several Úmáyar, although he did not appear unduly concerned, for his laughter never stopped. Indeed he was presently juggling two of the Úmáyar along with a minor asteroid that had strayed too close to the planet, flinging them one at a time towards the black hole sitting in the center of the system. One of the Úmáyar managed to think himself away in time; the other was not so lucky. Neither was the asteroid.

The sight of Manwë’s army appearing in their midst unnerved Melkor’s People and many fled heedlessly into the dark of Eä. Those that remained found themselves facing an army bent on vengeance for Manwë’s torture and Varda’s kidnapping. Manwë’s People especially were filled with fury and three of them, Eönwë, Fionwë and Olórin, decided to hunt down those who had fled, rather than letting them go. Their rage knew no bounds and Námo could see that they were fast succumbing to darkness, losing themselves as he had almost done.

"Stay!" he commanded the Máyar who were set on hunting down the fleeing enemy. "We have more important things with which to concern ourselves."

"They’re getting away!" Eönwë screamed in frustration. "They helped torture our lord and they’re getting away."

"No, Eönwë!" Námo proclaimed. "Only Melkor is responsible for..."

But Eönwë was not listening, nor were the other two. With shouts of anger and frustration they made to pursue the enemy forces. Ignoring Námo completely, the three went off. The Ayanuz muttered an oath. "We do not have time for this," he said to himself and then he did something he had hoped never to do — he exerted the full extent of his powers upon the three Máyar.

To Eönwë, Fionwë and Olórin it was as if a star had gone nova in their very midst. Suddenly Námo was before them shining in the fullness of his wrath, his normally pure violet hue now nearly incandescent, blinding them and bringing them to a halt. They stared at the Ayanuz in awe and trepidation. Never before had any of their masters exhibited such power, certainly none had ever directed that power towards them and they found themselves quailing at the sight of Námo before them.

"Ye shall not pass," Námo said with a coldness that rivaled the frigidity of the methane snows that blew across the face of Ashkadphelun’s largest satellite.

"But lord, they tortured our lord and kidnapped...." Fionwë started to explain but Námo did not give him a chance to continue.

"Do not defy me, my children," he said with all the authority of one of the Máhanumaz. "Ye will not enjoy the consequences."

"No!" Eönwë shouted, heedless of Námo’s warning and attempting to think himself away. "I won’t let them get away with it. They deserve..."

But what he thought the enemy deserved remained unspoken for suddenly Námo ‘grabbed’ all three Máyar with a single negligent thought and flung them back into the system, forcing them to incarnate as they fell from the skies of Nasarphelun to land abruptly upon the all too solid ground at the foot of Dáhanigwishtelgun. Even as they struggled to their feet, trying to orient themselves, Námo was there before them, also incarnate. His expression was forbidding and his will was implacable. The three Máyar went to their knees without any conscious thought of doing so.

Of the three, Olórin appeared to be the least defiant. Indeed, he had an expression that could only be called ‘adoring’. Lord Manwë would always hold his allegiance, but the Máya had a dim thought that perhaps a time would come when he might be allowed to serve the Ayanuz standing before them in all his glorious wrath. Eönwë and Fionwë appeared less cowed but they did not seek to defy Námo now. There was a look of frustrated defeat on Eönwë’s fair face. Fionwë was actually weeping.

"Did I not warn you not to defy me?" Námo asked them, his voice low and dangerous. All three Máyar shuddered, not daring to look up. "Ye will remain incarnate until I say otherwise."

"But... but... then we will not be able to fight!" Fionwë stuttered through his tears, his look of disbelief mirrored in the faces of his two companions.

Námo smiled and all three cringed at the sight. "Yes. That is the general idea," he replied, then his expression went cold again. "Remain here... or you may climb the mountain and await us there. I will let Manwë handle any further... chastisements."

With that the Ayanuz who would one day be known as the dread Lord of Mandos, left them to rejoin the battle. The three Máyar stared at one another for a time before Eönwë sighed and gestured. "Let us start climbing."

****

All this while, the battle continued to rage. The newcomer from the Timeless Halls had inspired the other Ayanumuz and they had found new hope in his coming. By the time Námo rejoined his fellows the battle was all but over. Melkor had begun to realize that all was lost and with a final shriek of defiance he fled along with his remaining minions. The stranger Ayanuz looked about, his aura darkening towards orange with frustration and disappointment.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted, but they’re not very sporting, leaving like that," he said to no one in particular.

Námo found himself chuckling at the words and even Ulmo’s aura brightened with amusement. "Who art thou?" he asked, "for I remember thee not."

The stranger Ayanuz turned his attention to Ulmo and laughed. "Dost thou not, brother? Well, know that I am Tulkas."

"Ah... be welcome to Eä, Tulkas, my brother," Ulmo said formally and embraced him and gave him a kiss as between kinsman. The other Ayanumuz gathered around them and offered their own welcome and thanks for his aid.

"But where is the other one?" Tulkas asked at one point. "Where is the one who was being tortured? Is he not our leader?"

"Manwë, yes," Ulmo answered. " He is being tended to by Estë and Irmo. Come, let us see how he fares. Has anyone seen Oromë?"

Námo shook his head. "Not since he left to search for Varda."

"Varda?" Tulkas asked in surprise. "What has happened to her?"

"Kidnapped by some of Melkor’s People," Námo answered. "It happened just before you came. Oromë and his Máyar are searching for her. If anyone can find where she has been taken, it will be Oromë."

"Let us see first to Manwë and then we will speak of Varda and how best to rescue her." Ulmo said.

They all thought themselves away, with Námo offering to show Tulkas the necessary coordinates, which the younger Ayanuz accepted. Soon, they were congregating on one of the larger satellites of Manawenuzphelun where Irmo and Estë were looking after Manwë.

"He is still unconscious," Irmo informed them. "It will take some time before he recovers but I do not think he suffered any lasting injury."

"Any news about Varda?" Estë asked but before anyone could answer her, a shriek of outrage echoed through the halls of Eä.

They all looked about, stunned. Even Tulkas’ aura showed that he was surprised by the sound. "That was Varda," Námo finally said. "I’d recognize that shriek anywhere."

"She’s not in pain," Ulmo ventured, "but I suspect that someone is."

"Can we trace it?" Yavanna asked.

"Find Oromë and...." Námo began but then Oromë was suddenly in their midst along with an outraged Varda.

"You should have let me finish him off!" she screamed at the younger Ayanuz, who appeared equally outraged.

"I was rescuing you, you ungrateful...."

"Oromë!" Ulmo shouted and the other Ayanuz stuttered to a halt, though it was obvious that he was still angry.

"I don’t need rescuing you interfering little...."

"Varda, that’s enough!"

Everyone turned to see Manwë standing there, his aura more grey than blue. Varda forgot her anger at Oromë to embrace her beloved. "My love! Art thou well?" she asked and then proceeded to encompass Manwë with her very self, not allowing him any chance to answer.

"How did she escape?" Námo asked Oromë in the mean time. Oromë was still seething.

"Not without my help, though she will never admit it," the future Lord of the Hunt said with a low snarl and was surprised when the stranger Ayanuz laughed. He gave them all an enquiring look and Námo introduced him to Tulkas.

"Varda has not changed," Tulkas said with another laugh.

"You know her?" Vairë asked in surprise. "I am sorry, but I do not remember you."

Tulkas gave a shrug. "Perhaps it would be more true to say I know of her, as I know of each of you, for though I elected not to come to Eä with you, I have watched the doings of the Little Kingdom with some interest."

Ulmo gave him a sharp look, looking somewhat affronted. "Is that what thou callest Atháraphelun?"

Tulkas laughed. "Nay, brother. It is what I call Eä, for is it not small when compared to the Timeless Halls?"

"Indeed. Yet it is large enough for our purposes."

They all turned to see Manwë there with Varda beside him. Manwë’s aura was returning to it’s normal steady blue, but he was obviously weak from his tortures. He ignored everyone for a moment to stare at Námo.

"A little rough on my Máyar were you not?" he asked suddenly.

Námo could not tell if Manwë was angry, but decided he did not care. "They would not listen to reason," he explained coldly. "I gave them fair warning. They’re making their way up Dáhanigwishtelgun even now. I told them to wait there until you were ready to claim them."

Manwë nodded, then turned to Tulkas, who had stood by, exhibiting unabashed interest in their conversation. "Welcome, Tulkas," Manwë said. "I rejoice in your timely presence."

Tulkas gave the Eldest his obeisance. "It took some convincing, but finally Atar allowed me to come."

"You realize you cannot return to the Timeless Halls now, do you not?" Manwë asked and Tulkas nodded, giving them another shrug.

"Atar said as much, but in truth, I was finding home too... constricting," he ended on a rather lame note.

"And so you decided to come here where there is even less space," Oromë responded with a grin and Tulkas laughed.

"Perhaps I should have said that I was finding my brothers and sisters less and less interesting. You looked to be having more fun and I was tired of missing out."

"Fun?" Aulë asked in disbelief. "You call what we have gone through of late ‘fun’?"

Tulkas shrugged once more and let out another booming laugh. "More fun than listening to Phanaínithil recite her latest poem."

The others all laughed and Vána spoke up. "Oh, I remember her! She was always reciting her poetry to whoever would listen."

"And even if they weren’t," Tulkas rejoined and they all laughed again, though in truth, there was nothing mean-spirited in it. Those who knew Phanaínithil smiled in fond memory of her.

"I hope she has improved somewhat after all this time," Nessa said.

Tulkas shrugged. "I cannot say." He gave them a merry grin. "Atar seems to like her efforts."

Manwë grinned as well. "Atar likes all our efforts, howsoever clumsy we might be."

"So what now?" Námo asked. "Melkor has fled and Atháraphelun lies in ruins."

Manwë sighed. "We rebuild, but first I had best reclaim my Máyar." He gave Námo a wry look and then he and Varda thought themselves away.

"I still would like to hear how Varda escaped Melkor’s minions," Vairë said then.

"And I want to hear how you managed to convince Atar to let you come," Yavanna said, addressing Tulkas. "I cannot believe he simply let you go."

Tulkas shrugged again, his golden-yellow aura turning a shade closer to bronze as he attempted unsuccessfully to appear nonchalant. "Oh, well... as to that... um...."

They all looked upon the newest member of their community with amusement. Ulmo chuckled as he grabbed Tulkas and gave him a warm hug. "Something tells me that there is a story behind all that stammering. Come. Let us join Manwë and Varda. I am sure they would like to hear your tale as well."

The others all smiled as Tulkas nodded, giving them a shy look and then as one, with Ulmo relaying the coordinates to Tulkas, they bethought themselves to Nasarphelun where Manwë and Varda were waiting patiently for three Máyar to reach the crest of the mountain and explain themselves.

****

Phanaínithil: (Valarin) ‘Bright Lily’. One of the Ayanumuz who remains in the Timeless Halls.

34: Trials and (Atar’s) Tribulations

They settled upon Dáhanigwishtelgun just in time to watch Eönwë, Fionwë and Olórin make their slow way to the top where Manwë and Varda awaited them. The Eldest gave the three Máyar a stern look. All three of them found themselves kneeling before him as the other Ayanumuz formed a ring so that the Máyar were in the center. Tulkas, standing between Námo and Oromë, watched with undisguised interest. Behind the ring of Ayanumuz were the Máyar, their expressions worried, their mood subdued.

Manwë glanced at Námo. "What are the charges?"

For a moment Námo wasn’t sure what Manwë meant but then he nodded as comprehension flooded him. He had a sudden vision of himself sitting amidst a ring of thrones and Manwë asking the same question. Then the vision was gone before he could see any details of who was being charged and for what offense. He pulled himself together and answered. "They went after the Úmáyar who fled, bent on revenge for what had been done to you and Varda. I ordered them to return. They defied me. I showed them the error of their ways."

"Why did you order them to return?" Tulkas asked, looking slightly confused. There was a stir among the Máyar, many of whom had yet to be apprised of Tulkas’ arrival. Námo hid a grin, realizing that the newest member of their small community probably would have given chase himself had he not been otherwise occupied.

"Because they were going after the enemy for the wrong reason," he replied. "They were heading towards darkness and had they succeeded in their endeavors they would have become corrupted in their hearts, as surely as their fellows who now follow our Fallen Brother, though they would think otherwise. I did not wish that for them, so I ordered them back."

"But they defied you," Manwë reiterated.

Námo nodded. "Yes, Eönwë, especially, I’m afraid. His love for you is paramount, of that I have no doubt, but that very love was in danger of being tainted and I would not allow that to happen if I could help it."

"Then you did not order them back for any sound military reason," Oromë said.

Námo shrugged. "If the protection of your troops’ fëar is not a part of military strategy, then, no, I had no sound military reason to stop them. I only know that Atar would not have approved. They were bent on revenge, not justice."

All this time the three Máyar remained kneeling, not looking up, as their fate was being decided. Eönwë, especially, was abject in his posture and Námo was sure the Máya thought he might be demoted for his disobedience. Manwë, of course, would be in his right to do so, but Námo doubted his brother Ayanuz would go that far.

For a moment Manwë merely stood there gazing dispassionately at the three Máyar, then he lifted his eyes to Námo again. "Thank you, my brother," he said. "It would have grieved me had these three been lost to our Fallen Brother’s hatred. You did well to restrain them."

Námo gave Manwë a nod of acknowledgment but refrained from speaking. Manwë looked again at the three Máyar. "Have you aught to say, my children? Do you dispute Lord Námo’s testimony?"

All three shook their heads, remaining silent.

"Then for your punishments," Manwë continued, his expression more grave, "I think you will do well to learn obedience from the one whom you defied. Until I say otherwise, you will consider yourselves Námoliéva. You will give Lord Námo temporary oaths of allegiance and you will obey him in all things."

All three Máyar went white at the pronouncement. Eönwë moaned and hid his face in his hands, nearly reeling with grief. Olórin steadied him while Fionwë whispered something in his ear. Námo gave Manwë a grimace. *I do not need this, Manwë, and just what do you expect me to do with them? I refuse to humiliate them further.*

*Nor would I want you to. Give them positions of trust but place them under Maranwë’s supervision. Olórin and Fionwë are already used to answering to others; Eönwë is the one who needs the lesson more than they, but I cannot punish one without punishing all three.*

*You could have consulted me before you made the decision, you know.* Námo’s tone was almost petulant.

*Would you have refused my suggestion?* Manwë asked.

Námo sighed. *No, I would not. It is a just sentence, though I like it not.*

*Nor do I.* He turned his attention to the other Máyar. Their reactions to the sentencing of their three fellows had caused a stir and several were seen muttering, their expressions ones of dismay. Aloud, he said, "I do not make this decision lightly or with any intent to humiliate your fellows. They will be treated with every respect by my brother and his Máyar. Of that, I have no qualms. But understand this: Ye have pledged your allegiance to one or two of us as a matter of course, but any one of the Ayanumuz may give you an order and we expect to be obeyed. Eönwë, Fionwë and Olórin defied an explicit order from Lord Námo. The order was not arbitrary or capricious in nature but given for their own sakes. When Lord Námo and I are satisfied that these three have learned this lesson well, then they will be restored to their former positions within my House and this matter will be set in peace and held redressed."

He focused his attention on the three Máyar still kneeling before him. Olórin and Fionwë each had an arm around Eönwë, giving him their support. Manwë sighed, his expression more sad than angry. "Let them give their oaths."

Námo decided to save them further embarrassment in having to approach him by moving to stand beside Manwë. His own expression was unreadable to any, except perhaps Vairë and Oromë. "I will hear your oaths one at a time. Olórin, thou canst be first if thou wilt."

"Yes, lord," the Máya said and he was soon repeating the words that all the Máyar spoke in giving their allegiance and Námo gave the traditional answer. Next was Fionwë and then finally it was Eönwë’s turn. During all this time the Máya struggled to regain his composure so that by the time Fionwë finished his oathtaking he was calmer and perhaps even somewhat resigned to his fate. Even so, he was in tears again before the end and Námo forwent all protocol and pulled him into an embrace as he spoke his part of the oath. Then he silently called his People to him.

"These are your new brothers, my children, if only for a little while," he said to them. "Treat them gently and with love."

Maranwë bowed. "It need not be said, lord. We welcome them gladly. Come, brothers, let me introduce you to your new family." Then Námo relinquished Eönwë into Maranwë’s care and soon the three new Námolië were being ushered away by their brothers and sisters as Manwë formally dismissed the other Máyar.

"Nicely done, beloved," Vairë said as she came to him, giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

"Interesting," Tulkas commented blandly. "Does this sort of thing happen often?"

"It has never happened before," Manwë said sorrowfully. "I hope it never happens again."

"May Atar will it so," Námo replied fervently, still at a loss as to what to do with the three Máyar now in his care. He had a feeling that ‘temporary’ might be longer than any of them imagined.

"Speaking of Atar..." Varda gave the newest Ayanuz a hard stare. "I think it time we heard your story, Tulkas."

"But before we do, I want to hear all about Oromë rescuing you Varda," Vána said with a suggestive grin.

"He didn’t rescue me!" Varda exclaimed. "I was doing quite well before he arrived."

"Which is why I found two Urushigasumaz holding her down while one of the other Úmáyar was pummeling her with energy bolts," Oromë retorted, rolling his eyes in the process.

"They did not harm you?" Manwë asked his spouse, a look of concern crossing his visage.

"They didn’t have time, beloved. Another minute and I would have had them all where I wanted them if you hadn’t interfered." She glowered at Oromë who glowered right back.

"Hah! Not likely," he exclaimed. "If my People and I hadn’t shown up when we did...."

"I was handling it just fine, you...."

"Hold!" Manwë shouted, looking at the two Ayanumuz with mingled amusement and exasperation. "Let us just say that it was a team effort, shall we? I know you are very capable, my love," he said to Varda solicitously, "but I am very grateful that Oromë was there to... er... lend a hand."

"I didn’t need...."

"Hush, now beloved. We all need help now and then, even you. Now, let the two of you be friends." His tone brooked no argument and after some hesitation on the part of both Ayanumuz, Varda and Oromë exchanged kisses of peace. "There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

Varda glared at her spouse. Oromë had the good sense not to say anything further.

"Well, now that that’s settled," Aulë said with a smile, "I want to hear all about Tulkas and how he came to be here."

Everyone nodded and Námo noticed that Tulkas looked somewhat nervous. He clapped the young Ayanuz on the shoulder. "Come, we are all brethren here. There is naught to fear. We rejoice in your coming and thank Atar for allowing you to help us. So let us hear all the details."

Tulkas nodded, still looking nervous. "Well, as I said earlier, I’ve been keeping watch on the doings here in the Little Kingdom as we call it in the Timeless Halls. I think I was even beginning to regret not coming at the beginning." He cast them all a sly look. "I have the feeling lots of other people were regretting it almost as much, if not more...."

****

Tulkas was feeling bored and that was not a good thing. To be fair, it was not so much boredom as it was a sense of restlessness that plagued him. The joys of the Timeless Halls were beginning to pall and he could not understand why. He found himself spending more and more time watching the goings-on in the Little Kingdom and that puzzled him, for he had not had any desire to enter Eä with the others. In fact, he had not participated all that much in the Ainulindalë, being content to listen to his fellows, entering into the Song at odd moments when the mood struck. Only towards the end, when Melkor had striven against Atar’s Third Theme, had he joined in more fully, for Melkor’s disharmony rankled and he wished to counter it as well as he might.

His own song was rough and wild yet it blended well with Atar’s original Themes. Several of his fellows standing near him hearkened to his joyous music full of laughter and light and listened no longer to Melkor’s dissonance. Tulkas would never know that his own voice had been the saving of several of the Máyar who had been in danger of following Melkor into rebellion. When Atar gave them all the opportunity to leave the Timeless Halls for Eä, Tulkas was uninterested. He was sorry to see some of his friends go, especially Oromë, but he was content to remain where he was.

That contentment, however, began to grow thin after long ages of bliss. Not understanding the source of the feelings welling within him, he sought an outlet for his sense of discontent. At first, it was harmless pranks played on his fellows, usually of the sort that got them chasing after him in feigned anger, for they were young yet and tended towards play in lieu of more serious pursuits. Still, in one or two cases, the chase got out of hand and Atar was forced to step in with gentle admonishments towards Tulkas for instigating the jest and the other Ayanumuz and Máyar for falling for it.

After awhile though, when such games became less interesting, Tulkas’ pranks grew more serious and disruptive of the peace that imbued the very fabric of the Timeless Halls. Now his fellows were less inclined to chase him about and more apt to complain to Atar.

"He’s becoming impossible, Atar!" Phanaínithil said plaintively after Tulkas had pulled a prank on her that ended up with her being dunked in one of the watermeads. The Ayanuz dripping before the throne of Ilúvatar was nearly in tears.

Atar smiled gently at his daughter, offering her comfort and drying her of both tears and excess water. "He is becoming a handful, I know, but he doth not intend harm. Have patience, child. All will be well."

"Hmph... If this keeps up, Atar, Tulkas is going to be one sorry Ayanuz," Phanaínithil exclaimed darkly, not ready to be appeased.

Atar merely chuckled and gave her a hug and a kiss, asking to hear her latest poem, which went a long way towards mollifying this particular Child of his Thought.

Tulkas, meanwhile was hiding, or trying to. He had not intended for Phana to fall into the water, and now he thought he might be in real trouble. So he went to the outer edges of the Halls where few ever went, for beyond was the Void and most preferred not to go there. Tulkas, however, was finding himself drawn more and more towards it and he would sit for the longest time staring into it, watching with growing interest the events unfolding in Eä. Thus, it was that two of his fellows found him, once Atar apprised them of his location.

"There you are, you naughty child."

Tulkas turned to see his friend Ezelullumirub standing there, his aura bright with amusement. Ezelurushebeth, his twin sister in the Thought of Atar, stood beside him, not looking quite as amused as her brother.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Atar sent us to fetch you," Ezelurushebeth said with a scowl. "You are in big trouble."

Tulkas sighed. "Is Phana well? Truly, I did not mean for her to fall in...."

"Oh she’s a little wet but otherwise unharmed," Ezelullumirub replied with a wide grin. "Right now she’s entertaining Atar with one of her poems."

Tulkas groaned. "Her poems are so bad. How does Atar stand them?"

"Oh come now, Tulkas," Ezelurushebeth said with some annoyance, "just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean we think the same. Phana is improving and I think her last poem was quite lovely."

"Only because she mentioned you in it," her brother retorted with a laugh.

"Oh you!" his sister cried in mock anger, sending a bolt of energy at him that was more ticklish than anything.

Tulkas snickered at the byplay between the siblings then sighed. He really did not want to face Atar but he knew he could not avoid it. "Well, I guess I should go and apologize to Phana," he said with some reluctance, wondering what punishment he might receive for his latest prank.

"Cheer up," Ezelullumirub said with a sly grin. "Perhaps Atar will not make you listen to Phana recite her poetry for your punishment."

"One can only hope," Tulkas retorted sourly and the other two laughed as they thought themselves away....

****

"I do not remember Phanaínithil myself," Yavanna said suddenly as they were listening to Tulkas’ recitation. "Is her poetry truly that bad?"

Nessa shook her head. "No. At least not that I remember. It was not the best but neither was it as awful as Tulkas makes it out to be."

"She is no Ullukeluth," Tulkas muttered.

"No one can surpass Ullukeluth in the composition of poetry," Manwë said. "From the very beginning he seemed to have an instinct for creating verse that is just sublime. If Phanainithil is trying to catch up to him, she will be forever doomed to disappointment."

"So Atar keeps telling her," Tulkas said. "I think she tries too hard."

"At any rate," Námo said, "we’re getting off-track. Did Atar make you listen to her poetry as punishment for dunking her?" He gave Tulkas a wicked grin.

"Worse than that!" Tulkas exclaimed with disgust. "He made me help her compose her next poem."

They all laughed at that and Tulkas joined them, unable to remain petulant.

"You’ll have to recite it for us some time," Manwë said once they calmed down. "Continue, please. Tell us how you came to win Atar’s permission to come here."

"Oh, well, as to that...."

****

Things calmed down in the Timeless Halls for an age or three. Atar started giving Tulkas more responsibilities, usually involving caring for younger Máyar newly Emerged. The most powerful of the Ayanumuz had long been created, but Atar apparently still delighted in bringing forth other Children of his Thought. Tulkas suspected (wrongly) they were meant to fill the gaps left by those Máyar who had followed the Great Ayanumuz into Eä. Atar assured him that that was not the case.

"I bring forth life out of love, Child," the One told him, "and for no other reason."

Regardless, Tulkas found his duties, if not onerous, at least challenging. Running after overly curious younglings without a clue and trying to come up with games to keep them occupied and out of trouble was tiring. He often spent his free time just resting, too exhausted to do much more than watch with idle interest the events unfolding in Eä. He had not seen Phana for some time and suspected (rightly) that Atar was keeping the two of them apart.

Yet, in spite of this, the restlessness that had begun to manifest within his fëa continued to grow and the frustration he felt over it drove him towards the brink. On a particular timeless afternoon when all the younglings were either resting or otherwise engaged, Tulkas gave into temptation and set out to devise a prank that would make up for all the ones he had been unable to execute because of his new duties. He was laughing quietly to himself, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the Halls, as he contemplated how best to carry through with his idea. Unfortunately for him, while his fellows were ignorant of his intentions, Atar was not.

"Tulkas, my wayward Child, what dost thou?"

"Nothing, Atar!" Tulkas replied without thinking, feeling guilty, although he hadn’t actually done anything yet.

"Now Child of mine," Atar said with great gentleness, "thou canst not hide thy thoughts from me. Tell me what thou’rt planning."

"But, Atar! If thou knowest my thoughts, why dost thou ask for them?"

Atar laughed and Tulkas found himself being embraced, leaving the Ayanuz feeling warm and safe and loved unconditionally. "I ask because I wish to hear from thy own lips what thou wouldst do, best beloved," Atar replied, giving Tulkas a kiss before releasing him.

Tulkas sighed. "I was just thinking of playing a prank. I haven’t done one in a long time. Thou hast made sure of that, hast thou not, Atar?"

"Ah, I have been found out," Atar said with a laugh and Tulkas could not help but laugh as well. "And who was to be the victim of thy jest, Little One?"

"Oh, I was thinking of getting back at Ezelullumirub for saying I have finally grown up. I do not want him to think that I am that grown up."

"Ah, Tulkas, my Child, thou’rt a trial indeed. Ezelullumirub was not insulting thee, but giving thee a great compliment. All my Children must grow up eventually. Dost thou truly wish to remain forever a youngling? Even thy charges eventually move on to more serious pursuits, do they not?"

"Yes, Atar," Tulkas replied with a sigh. "Only, why can I not do the same? I find no joy in the pursuits that bring delight to others. Ever I feel restless and dissatisfied. Playing pranks seems to be the only thing that makes me... content."

Atar gazed upon his Child with great tenderness, knowing well the restlessness that he had planted in Tulkas’ heart, for this particular Ayanuz had an important role to play in his designs, though it was still too soon for those plans to come to fruition. Soon, yes, but not yet. In the meantime, he would have to think of other tasks with which to keep Tulkas occupied....

****

"So you never got a chance to get back at Ezelullumirub?" Varda asked with a smile.

Tulkas laughed, the sound joyous and unforced. "Nay, Atar made doubly sure that I was so loaded down with new tasks that thoughts of games and jests were the furthest thing from my mind. All I wanted to do was sit and watch what was going on here when I was not otherwise engaged. I could not understand my fascination with the Little Kingdom, and Atar would not enlighten me howsoever much I nagged him about it. Then, something happened...."

****

It was during one of his infrequent rest periods when everything changed for Tulkas and for many others. As was his wont, he was perched in his favorite spot on the borders of the Timeless Halls, watching the building of Atháraphelun and delighting in the ordering of its system. He snickered at Námo’s consternation at being presented with a flat world and laughed outright at his friend Oromë’s pronouncement that ‘Atar wouldn’t approve’. He was enthralled by the different worlds the Ayanumuz were creating and marveled at their ingenuity and artistry, wishing vaguely that he had such talents.

For a while though his attention wandered as those in Eä worked to bring Atháraphelun into completion in preparation for the coming of the mysterious Children. Tulkas was not very interested in any of this and he was thinking of heading back to find his friends when something caught his attention.

Melkor... and twelve blue-white stars that should not have been where they were. He watched in fascinated horror as the first of the stars exploded and Melkor’s treachery and perfidy was revealed in the form of the Urushigasumaz.

"Hey! That’s not fair!" Tulkas yelled. "Atar! That’s not fair." Instantly he thought himself before Atar’s throne, in his haste and sense of outrage ignoring the fact that two people were already there, singing a paean of praise.

"... praise to thee our loving — hey! We were here first!" Tulukurush exclaimed.

Tulkas turned to see one of his cousins with Ulluinithil, their aurae flashing in distress at the interruption.

"This is important!" Tulkas said.

"Well, so is this," his cousin retorted.

"Peace, Children" Atar said quietly, forestalling Tulkas’ next words. "The urgency of thy message notwithstanding, my son, thou shouldst apologize to Tulukurush and Ulluinithil for thine interruption."

"Sorry, Atar, but you don’t know what is happening!" Tulkas exclaimed, becoming more and more agitated.

"Do I not?"

Now the Ayanuz was abashed, having forgotten to whom he was speaking. He cast his gaze downward and so missed the indulgent smile that crossed Atar’s visage as he silently dismissed the other two Ayanumuz with a promise that he would hear their paean again soon. They were mollified somewhat by the sense of love and approval that they received from Atar and departed in good spirits, leaving Tulkas alone with the One.

"Very well, my son," Atar said. "Tell me what hath upset thee."

"Melkor," Tulkas hissed. "He is not playing fair."

"He never hath, Tulkas. Why doth he upset thee now?"

"Come see, Atar," Tulkas said, nearly pulling the One out of his throne in his need to convince him of Melkor’s perfidy. "Melkor doth lay ruin upon Atháraphelun, and my friends are in need of succor."

"Nay, Tulkas, I will not interfere with the free will decisions of any of my Children, not even Melkor. Thy brethren in the Little Kingdom must win against him or not without my help."

Tulkas stared at Atar in disbelief. "Bu-but, Atar! Melkor is not playing fair!" He was nearly screaming in his frustration by now, but Atar would not be moved.

"What wouldst thou of me, Child?" Atar asked, looking grave.

Tulkas stopped in his tracks, thinking furiously, and then....

"Let me go," he whispered, not sure even he believed the words he spoke. "Let me go to Eä. Let me join my friend Oromë in the Little Kingdom."

"Art thou sure, Little One?" Atar asked gently. "Knowest thou what thou’rt asking? Think carefully, my Little Golden One, for in thine answer lieth the doom of many."

Tulkas wasn’t sure what Atar was saying but the more he thought about it the more convinced he became that this was the right decision. He would go to the Little Kingdom and teach Melkor how to play fair. He nodded. "I... I want to go, Atar. Please... I can help, I know I can."

For an eternal moment Atar did not move and it was as if the very Halls themselves held their breath in anticipation. Then, Atar nodded and smiled upon his wayward Child, wayward no longer, for he had found his path and his destiny, though he knew it not.

"Then go, Child of mine," Atar said, laying a kiss upon Tulkas in benediction. "Go with my blessing." He paused and gathered the Ayanuz into his embrace, wrapping him in his loving arms. "I will miss thee, my Little Golden One," he whispered.

"I... I will miss thee, too, Atar," Tulkas whispered back, suddenly unsure, but Atar hugged him once and then let him go.

"Mind thine elders now, Tulkas," Atar admonished him with a smile, "and try not to get into too much trouble else Manwë will have words with me that will not be good for me to hear."

"Yes, Atar, I promise," Tulkas said with a snicker and then he started laughing. Without knowing how he knew that it was time, he started running towards the outer boundaries of the Timeless Halls, waving cheerfully his farewells to everyone he passed. As he reached the Void and leapt towards Eä and his new life, he never stopped laughing.

****

Námoliéva: Belonging to Námo.

Námolië: People of Námo.

****

Other Ayanumuz of the Timeless Halls:

Ezelullumirub: 'Green Water Wine.

Ezelurushebeth: 'Green Fire Air'.

Phanaínithil: 'Bright Lily'.

Tulukurush: 'Golden Fire' .

Ulluinithil: 'Water Lily'.

Ullukeluth: 'Water Mirror'.

Note: Tulukurush is referred to as one of Tulkas’ cousins, rather than as his brother. The Valarin form of Tulkas’ name is Tulukhastaz "Golden-haired".

35: The Price of Victory

They were all laughing by the time Tulkas finished his tale.

"It took quite a bit of convincing before Atar finally gave me his blessing," Tulkas said with a huge grin.

"Apparently," Manwë said, smiling. "Ambarhíni has traveled its orbit more than fourteen thousand times since Melkor attacked with the Urushigasumaz."

"That many times, huh?" Tulkas exclaimed. "Well I did the best I could. Sorry it took so long."

Námo shook his head, giving Tulkas a hug. "You came when you were needed the most and that is all that matters."

"Indeed," Manwë said. "We are grateful for your timely appearance. Now come. Let us teach you the spatiotemporal coordinates that you will need." Manwë then ordered the Máyar to begin the initial reordering of Atháraphelun, capturing stray asteroids and such. "There is much we must do to put all in order again but I think we can spare some time in showing our brother around his new home."

Thus the Children’s World traveled its orbit a few times before the Ayanumuz returned to find that much of the debris from the war was gone, but Atháraphelun was not as it once was. Phanaiphelun was no more, and Tirisambar was in disarray. Aulë’s world was gone and Ambarhíni itself was a wasteland of molten lava and noxious gases. All that they had striven to create was destroyed. They would have to start again.

"Do we rebuild what has been destroyed?" Yavanna asked.

Both Námo and Vairë shook their heads. "We’ve already decided to leave Phanaiphelun as it is," Námo told them, his expression blank.

"No longer will it be called Phanaiphelun," Vairë added. "Forever more will it be called Avatháraphelun."

"And I shall leave Ulbankeluth as it is as well," Nienna announced. "I rather like it the way it is now, lying on its side."

The others snickered at that. Manwë turned to Oromë. "What of Tirisambar?"

Oromë shook his head. "I will not repair the damage that has been done. Let what remains of Tirisambar stay as it is. Its position above the ecliptic does provide for a convenient place to keep watch over the rest of the system. Melkor has fled but I doubt he will stay away."

"Well, I have every intention of rebuilding Urnambar," Aulë declared. "I need my forge now more than ever."

Manwë nodded. "Agreed. Then by all means, rebuild your world, Aulë, while the rest of us put to rights the Children’s World. I fear our labors will be long and wearying."

"Then let us to it," Tulkas said somewhat impatiently. "Standing about is not going to get it done."

"No indeed, it will not," Manwë replied with a warm smile. "Let us therefore begin... again."

****

Before they could do any rebuilding, however, they needed to attend to their wounded. Several of the Máyar had suffered extreme energy loss, leaving them virtually crippled, unable even to think themselves elsewhere without aid. One such victim was Ancalequirindë. She was perhaps the most severely injured, suffering also from deep shock because her attacker had been her own brother in Atar’s Thought. That, more than the physical injuries, had Irmo and Estë worried.

"She does not respond to us at all," Estë told Vairë and Námo as they were discussing her condition. "Her energy levels are low, yes, but they are being replenished. I do not think she will regain all her strength, but certainly it will be enough to function at a fairly normal level. No, this is something more, something else."

"What do you think it is?" Vairë asked.

Irmo sighed. "She is closing herself off to everyone. It is almost as if...."

"As if what, brother?" Námo asked.

"As if she no longer wishes to live."

Both Námo and Vairë blanched at that, their aurae turning dark with shock. "We’ll see about that," Námo said and immediately thought himself to where Ancalequirindë and the other injured were being treated.

She was incarnate, as were all the injured. Estë had determined that treating their wounds on an incarnational level appeared to work better than on the quantum level. Námo agreed. "My own wounds seemed to heal more quickly when I became incarnate. I do not know why, only that Atar always made sure I clad myself in fana before sleeping."

He slipped into his own physical form. Vairë made to follow but he shook his head. "Let me try first, beloved. I have been where she is now. I may be able to reach her."

Vairë nodded, giving him a kiss. "If anyone can reach her it will be you, my love."

Ancalequirindë was lying on a bed of moss in an area on the equator of Nasarphelun. Estë and Irmo had created a small oasis on their desert world, enclosed in a forcefield, allowing plants to grow. There was also a small body of water that provided them with refreshment of both hröa and fëa. She lay there with her eyes open, though it was doubtful that she saw anything. Námo knelt beside her, stroking her hair which was a curious shade of blue.

"Ancalequirindë," he called to her softly. "Come, child. It is time to return to us. There is much work to be done and we need all the help we can get."

There was no immediate response, though Námo thought he detected a flicker of awareness deep in her aquamarine eyes. It lasted only for a second or two but it was enough to convince him that she was reachable. He adjusted his position so he was sitting facing her with his knees up. He took her right hand and gently stroked it.

"I never did have the chance to properly thank thee for saving my life."

Ah! There was another flicker.

"Thou didst a very brave but foolish thing," he continued. "Yes, very foolish, for thou wert already weak from energy loss." He sighed, his expression rueful. "I fear I was at fault there. I needed more energy and thou wert... convenient. I am sorry. I am not usually so callous with my People."

For a long moment there was no response. The Máya continued staring upward, but Námo was certain she was becoming more present, for tears suddenly sprang up and began to flow from her eyes. Then she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "But... I am not... Námolië, lord. Thou hast... no need to... apologize."

Námo bent down and lifted her gently, holding her closely. "But thou’rt of my People, for thy mistress is my beloved. And though we are not yet espoused, I look upon thee and thy brothers and sisters as my own, just as I know Vairë looketh upon my Máyar as her own. So, I do indeed ask for thy forgiveness, child. It was wrong of me to do what I did."

"But... I am useless to thee and my lady."

"Useless? Why speakest thou such nonsense?"

"Lady Estë... I heard her say that I will never be the Máya that I was."

Námo silently cursed Estë for speaking where her charges could overhear and called to Vairë, quickly giving her the gist of what had been said. She appeared, looking distraught, kneeling beside Námo, who relinquished his hold on the Máya, allowing Vairë to take her into her own embrace.

"Hush now, my best beloved," she crooned to Ancalequirindë, who was still weeping. "Thou wilt never be useless to me."

"Nor to me," Námo added softly.

"If thou canst not perform thy previous duties," Vairë continued, "we will find thee other work suited to thy strength. Have no fear that we would abandon thee. Thou’rt my daughter and Atar’s gift to me."

"Indeed," Námo said firmly. "In fact, there is a task that thou canst do for me even now."

"Wh-what is that, lord?" the Máya asked, sounding doubtful.

"Three of Lord Manwë’s People disobeyed a direct order from me. As punishment, Manwë hath given them to me for a time. Eönwë..." he hid a smile at her look of disbelief at the mention of the Máya’s name, "I already have plans for, but I am at a loss as to what to do with Fionwë and Olórin. Thy lady tells me thou’rt very discerning, that thou wert one of the first to suspect that Acairis was unfaithful to thy mistress."

Ancalequirindë nodded but did not speak.

"I was wondering if thou wouldst speak with Fionwë and Olórin, then," he continued. "Learn from them their strengths and weaknesses, what duties they routinely performed for Lord Manwë, where doth their interests lie, that sort of thing."

The Máya gave him a puzzled look. "Couldst thou not discover these things for thyself, lord?"

"Yes, if I had the time," Námo answered, "but I am needed elsewhere. The forces unleashed in the war created pockets of chaos which must be contained. Thou wouldst be doing me a great favor, for I confess I have no idea what I am supposed to do with them."

Ancalequirindë almost grinned at the rueful expression Námo evinced and nodded. "If thou dost wish it of me, lord, I am thy servant."

"Good, good." Námo gave her a relieved look. "Now, thou shouldst rest. When my brother deems thee strong enough, I will send Fionwë and Olórin to thee."

Ancalequirindë nodded and after a few more minutes Námo and Vairë left her to her rest. They did not leave the oasis immediately, however. Instead, they stopped and visited for a time with the other Máyar recuperating from their injuries, offering them praise for their courage and thanks for their sacrifices, encouraging them to recover as quickly as they might.

"For we need all of you to aid in the reconstruction of Atháraphelun," Námo told them, "in so however way you may."

It did not escape the notice of either Irmo or Estë that, after Námo and Vairë left, the aurae of their charges brightened and some of the Máyar who had been almost as despairing as Ancalequirindë were now sounding more hopeful.

****

Avatháraphelun: (Valarin) ‘Shadow-appointed Dwelling’. The Eldar would refer to it as Ascatainambar ‘Broken World’.

Fana: (Quenya) The ‘raiment’ in which the Valar presented themselves to physical eyes, the bodies in which they were self-incarnated.

Note: 1500 Valian years (14,370 solar years) elapsed between the beginning of the war with Melkor and the coming of Tulkas into Eä.

36: Almaren Rising

There was peace in Eä for a time. As Manwë feared, the task of reordering Atháraphelun and making the Children’s World habitable again was long and wearying, yet they were of good cheer. Aulë recreated his own world and set to making the Lamps that he had promised Yavanna would light Ambarhíni until such time as the Children were due to appear. He had several of his people busy constructing the globes, with Aulendil and Auros working on one while Curumo and Urion worked on the other. Urion’s sister in Atar’s Thought, Urwen, helped Aulë with the actual materials which would produce the necessary light.

"We will not make the light the same for both Lamps," Aulë told her. "I want one to be cooler than the other so that when they blend together the light will be neither too hot nor too cold. Yavanna is impatient to see her seeds sprout and so we must work hard to make these Lamps in good time."

While the Lamps were being constructed, Tulkas and Oromë were busy building the pillars upon which the Lamps would be placed, deciding where they should go to produce the needed result. At the end it was determined that placing them at the poles would be sufficient, so long as the pillars themselves were of a height to achieve their goal of bringing enough light and warmth to the planet to begin the process of germination.

"They will pierce the atmosphere," Tulkas said. "It seems almost silly to bother with the pillars at all. Why don’t we just put them in a circumpolar orbit instead?"

"The degree of light would be inconstant if we did that," Oromë explained, "or at least that’s what Aulë said when I asked. In order for Yavanna’s seeds to bear fruit there must be a constant amount of light and heat being generated. Once this has been accomplished we will extinguish the Lamps and put a forcefield around the planet to keep the plants from dying."

"It seems odd that Atar would want the First Children to be brought forth under starlight," Tulkas commented. "And what of the other Children? Will they ever see the light of a sun?"

Oromë shrugged. "Námo perhaps knows what is in store for the Secondborn but at the moment our primary concern is to prepare for the coming of the Firstborn."

And so the pillars were constructed — gleaming towers of crystal that rose precipitously into the outer reaches of the atmosphere. Upon the northern pillar was set a faceted gemstone of palest blue that pulsated with a cool light, though any of the Mirroanwi would have been incinerated had they come within even a few hundred leagues of it. Aulë was well pleased with it and named it Illuin. Upon the southern pillar stood an orb made from a yellow-orange crystal that Aulë named Ormal. It pulsated with a warmer heat and together the lights of the two Lamps blended together, spreading across the planet, creating an endless day that provided the correct conditions for the sprouting of Yavanna’s seeds, which she had patiently planted whenever a section of the world was restored to its original beauty.

Slowly, but surely, the Children’s World became habitable. Námo spent much of his time, along with Oromë, hunting down the pockets of chaos that still ripped through the system and outlying areas of space and calming the chaotic state of some of the higher dimensions that had been disrupted by the war. Vána worked closely with Vairë in weaving the elements at the molecular level that would eventually provide the building blocks for the rise of amino acids and the first stages of animal life. Nienna and Ulmo worked diligently in bringing the Sea into being while Tulkas’ strength was utilized in raising the continents. In the center of the main continent which straddled the equator was a Great Lake that was more like an inner sea save that it had no actual outlet to the encircling Ocean. An island was built in the midst of the Lake and was named Almaren. It was to be the home of the Ayanumuz as they awaited the coming of the Children. In the task of molding Almaren to their tastes, Nessa worked beside Tulkas, much to the amusement of all. Irmo and Estë continued to work at healing those Máyar who had been injured during the war, while Manwë and Varda oversaw all, directing the various Máyar here or there as needed.

At Ancalequirindë’s suggestion, Námo assigned Olórin to work with his brother in caring for the wounded. "He has a compassionate soul," the Máya told her lord, "and is more humble than most. I think he would enjoy helping to heal those who suffered in the war."

Námo agreed to that and Irmo later expressed his own satisfaction at Olórin’s demeanor and willingness to help wherever needed. "He is eager to learn from us which can only increase his wisdom in time," Irmo told Námo and Manwë.

"And Fionwë?" Manwë asked, wondering how Námo was handling his new charges.

"Ancalequirindë suggested that he be set to work in helping to calm the fires that continue to plague Ambarhíni," Námo said. "He is still angry and we think to use that anger to good purpose."

"Yes, he was always hot-headed," Manwë said with a slight smile. "The last time he acted precipitously I threatened to rename him Rushurhastaz."

The others laughed at that.

"What of Eönwë?" Manwë then asked.

"I have kept him at my side," Námo stated. "He is learning from me the art of bringing order out of chaos. There is something about him that makes me wonder...."

"Wonder what?" Manwë demanded with a frown.

"I am not sure," Námo answered, "but I think his destiny will be greater than we know. At any rate, he is learning obedience as he follows my directions. I believe he is trying hard to make amends. They all are, in fact."

"Then I will leave it to you to decide when their tour of duty under your tutelage ends and they can be restored to their former positions among my People."

****

Ambarhíni orbited the black hole another thirty-eight hundred or so times before Almaren was finished. The light of the two Lamps mingled over the island and the first forests began to take root, while small animals that burrowed in the ground or swam in the waters flourished. Flowering plants there were none, just mosses, ferns and wild grasses, nor were there any winged creatures save small insects. Námo insisted there should also be nermir, though Yavanna tried to explain why that would not be possible.

"They live on nectar, Námo," Yavanna said with some exasperation. "Do you see any flowers blooming yet?"

"So make some," Námo said with a dismissive sniff.

"All in good time," Yavanna retorted. "Now why don’t you go find a pocket of chaos to play with or something and let me get on with things?"

Námo refused to speak to her for days after that, much to everyone else’s amusement.

In the midst of Almaren grew the tallest trees whose heads were wreathed with clouds while their roots lay in green twilight. Among the trees fair dwellings were constructed for the Ayanumuz and their Máyar, for whenever they came to Ambarhíni they would become incarnate to better enjoy the physical pleasures which the world offered. The first dwelling was a grove constructed by Irmo and Estë’s People for the benefit of the wounded Máyar.

"I think they will heal more quickly in the rich environment which Ambarhíni is finally beginning to show," Irmo told them and so the injured were removed from Nasarphelun to Ambarhíni in good order. Estë noticed a marked improvement in the recovery of several Máyar who had languished somewhat in their healing, which pleased her to no end.

Other dwellings were built, usually by Tulkas and soon all the Ayanumuz were able to enjoy the pleasures of their own dwellings. Námo, for instance, carved for himself a hollow hill lit by phosphorescent fungi and mosses which set the gems that Aulë had created that were embedded into the rock blazing with multi-colored hues. Oromë jested that Námo was still trying to find a good place to hide. Námo responded by bodily picking Oromë up and throwing him into the Lake.

"Catch me if you can," he said in a taunting voice as Oromë surfaced, spouting water all over the place. Then Námo made a rude noise and ran swiftly away. Oromë obliged by giving chase and Námo led him around the island, weaving back and forth across the face of Almaren, ending with a mad race around its perimeter before the two of them collapsed in a heap laughing gaily. Oromë shoved Námo into a sand dune face first and held him there until the younger Ayanuz capitulated.

"Serves you right," Vairë told him later, giving him a sniff of disdain, but Námo merely laughed.

"It was fun while it lasted," he said, "and I think we both needed the release."

The other Ayanumuz and Máyar also found needed release from the horrors of the war. When they were not at their various tasks they could often be found dancing and singing or simply playing. On the western shore of Almaren they built a sheer seacliff surrounded by jagged rocks. The waters were deepest there on that side of the island. It was not unusual to see Aulë and Ulmo especially challenging each other to dive off the top of the cliff. Sometimes Námo and Oromë would join them and Tulkas was often seen grabbing one or another of the nissi (Nessa in particular, though he refrained from doing so with Varda) and jumping off with them, laughing as they screamed in feigned fright.

"I think Tulkas and Nessa are getting rather close," Námo commented to Oromë once after Tulkas had grabbed Nessa and jumped off the cliff with her.

Oromë scowled. "Too close," he muttered.

Námo looked at his friend in surprise. "Do you not think Tulkas will make a good spouse for your sister?"

Oromë waved his hand in dismissal. "Oh, it’s not that. Tulkas is a fine Ayanuz and I am glad he likes my sister. It’s Nessa."

"What about Nessa?" Námo asked in confusion.

Oromë sighed, looking somewhat rueful. "Well, all she ever talks about is Tulkas."

"That’s a bad thing?" Námo was still not sure what the problem was.

Now Oromë was looking embarrassed. "The way she goes on about him you would think he won the war single-handedly."

"Ah." Things were beginning to make sense now. "You feel that Tulkas is taking too much credit...."

"Nay, just the opposite," Oromë countered, "but Nessa...."

"She is in love," Námo ventured. "I think that...um... colors her perceptions."

"I suppose," Oromë said with a sigh.

Námo smiled knowingly. "Would it displease you if they espoused?"

Oromë gave the younger Ayanumuz a surprised look. "Displease me? Nay. I am happy that Nessa has found someone to love. Ulmo looks not to be interested in espousing anyone and I think few of the Máyar would even consider themselves worthy to wed one of the Ayanumuz."

Námo nodded, knowing the truth of that. "Then I am glad for her sake that Atar allowed Tulkas to join us in Eä."

Oromë might have said something then but at that moment Tulkas and Nessa came to them, both dripping and laughing. "Come and join us," Nessa said to her brother. "We are going to swim to the other side of Almaren. Varda says they will have a feast waiting for us when we arrive."

"Sounds like fun," Námo said with a laugh. "Where is Vairë?"

"Here." They turned to see her approaching.

"Want to join us for a swim around Almaren?"

"Sure. Which direction will we go?"

"Why don’t we have a race?" Oromë suggested. "Námo, why don’t you and Vairë go south and we three will take the northern route? We’ll see who gets to the other side first."

"And what do the losers have to forfeit?" Tulkas asked with a smile.

"Hmm.... how about losers have to serve the winners at this feast Varda says Manwë is ordering?" Nessa suggested.

"That sounds fair," Vairë said and the others nodded in agreement.

"Shall we all jump off together then?" Námo asked with a sly grin and before anyone could respond, he swooped Vairë into his arms and, running to the edge, leapt off with her screaming imprecations at him. The others laughed. With Nessa between them, and all holding hands, Oromë and Tulkas leapt off the cliff as well.

****

Mirroanwi: (Quenya) Plural of Mirroanwë: An Incarnate, i.e. an Elf or Mortal.

Rushurhastaz: (Valarin) Fire-haired.

Nissi: (Quenya) Plural of nís: Female.

Note: Another 400 Valian years (3,832 solar years) elapsed between the coming of Tulkas into Eä and the founding of Almaren.

37: Veryanwë Meren

Námo and Vairë were coming around the southern point of Almaren when Námo stopped swimming. "Slow down, Vairë," he said, treading water.

Vairë stayed her stroke and looked at him in surprise. "Do you not wish to win this race?" she asked, clearly puzzled.

"Oh, not really," Námo said with a diffident shrug. "I think it would be more fun to serve than to be served, don’t you?"

Vairë cast him a meaningful look. "Is that what you want to do?"

"I think so," Námo said. "It would make a nice betrothal gift, don’t you?"

"Betrothal!" Vairë exclaimed, swimming over to her beloved. "You mean Nessa and Tulkas?"

Námo nodded. "I have the feeling Tulkas is going to ask Nessa to espouse him at this feast Manwë and Varda are arranging."

"Hmm... you may be right about that," Vairë said with a grin. Then her look became slyer. "So when are you going to ask me formally if I wish to espouse you?"

Námo suddenly became uncomfortable and there was a trapped look in his eyes. "Well... um... it’s just that... I mean...um... now!?"

Vairë’s expression softened and she swam closer to touch noses with him. "No, beloved. Whenever you are ready, I’ll be there."

Now Námo’s expression was more contrite. "I’m sorry... I..."

"Hush now, love," Vairë whispered, putting her arms around his neck and giving him a gentle kiss. "There is nothing to apologize for. You take all the time you need."

"What if I never...." He was now feeling guilty, as if he were exhibiting some personal failing in not asking Vairë to wed him.

"Shhh... Don’t think that. You are not a failure, beloved," Vairë murmured, having divined his thoughts. "Now, why don’t we continue our swim. I don’t want to be so far behind the others that they become suspicious."

She gave him a wink and he laughed, suddenly glad that Atar had brought her into his life. He felt a feathery brush of love sweep through him at that thought and knew that Atar was in complete agreement. He gave her a quick but heartfelt kiss. "Come. Let us go."

They continued swimming, finally arriving at the cove where they had all agreed to meet to find Oromë, Tulkas and Nessa already there, grinning with delight. "Took you long enough," Tulkas said.

"At least we arrived in good time for the feast, though," Námo quipped and they all laughed as they made their way towards their home.

****

Manwë had decided that they needed to celebrate the rebuilding of Ambarhíni and the establishment of Almaren, so he ordered a feast, bidding all to join him and Varda in giving thanks to Atar for all that they had accomplished. When Námo and the others arrived the feast was well underway. Everyone looked up as the five of them made their way towards the high table where the other Ayanumuz were seated.

"So who won?" Manwë asked with a grin and started laughing at the bemused looks on their faces.

"How did you...." Nessa asked.

"Oh, I have my methods," Manwë answered, looking smug.

"You mean spies," Oromë retorted, giving the Eldest a dark look, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as well.

"Those, too," was Manwë’s reply and the other Ayanumuz and several of the Máyar sniggered.

"Well, as it happens," Námo said, "Vairë and I lost, so we will serve the rest of you as our forfeit."

Tulkas looked shocked, though neither Oromë nor Nessa exhibited any concern. "The bet was that the losers would serve the winners, not everyone else."

Námo shrugged. "If we serve the one we serve the whole. Vairë and I talked about it on the way and agreed that if we lost we would serve all the Ayanumuz." He gave the newest Ayanuz a warm smile. "Trust me, it will be more fun this way and it is what we want to do."

Manwë nodded. "Then, take your places and let us resume our feast."

Nessa and Oromë led a reluctant Tulkas to their seats. The golden-haired Ayanuz still looked troubled, but Oromë whispered something to him and he began to relax. Meanwhile, Námo and Vairë were shooing the Máyar who had been assigned to serve the high table away.

"We will do this," he told them. "Go and join your brethren and make merry. You have all earned a respite."

The Máyar gave reluctant bows, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of any of the Ayanumuz in a servant role, but Námo smiled encouragingly and they left to join their fellows. Eönwë remained behind, looking somewhat forlorn.

"What is it, child?" Námo said solicitously.

The Máya ducked his head, seemingly suddenly shy. "I... I had hoped to... serve my lord... I mean my... former lord."

Námo gave him a sympathetic look and took him by the shoulders, forcing him to look at him. "Manwë will always be your lord, Eönwë, never fear." Then, coming to a decision, he nodded. "Very well, you will tend to Manwë and Varda. Vairë and I will see to the others."

Eönwë’s expression was one of deep gratitude as he thanked Námo, who merely waved away the Máya’s thanks. "Go and do as you said, Eönwë. Manwë has already given his consent."

The Máya nodded and went to do his duty to his lord and lady while Námo joined Vairë in serving their fellow Ayanumuz. Vairë gave Námo a quizzical look. He merely smiled. "I decided Eönwë has earned this right. He has been most diligent in his duty towards me."

Vairë nodded but made no comment. Instead, she handed her beloved a basket of bread and gave him a smirk. He smiled and bent down and gave her a brief kiss that held much promise for the future.

The feast was everything one could imagine. Food was plentiful and the mirubhózë flowed. Námo and Vairë served their fellows joyfully and only when Manwë insisted did they finally sit and partake of some of the feast. Several of the Máyar took turns to provide entertainment, singing songs or dancing before the high table. There was much laughter and jesting among them. Námo kept a close eye on Eönwë and nodded in satisfaction at the look of unalloyed joy that shone from the Máya’s eyes as he continued to serve Manwë and Varda.

*I think he may be ready to return to you,* he bespoke Manwë.

*But only if the others are,* Manwë returned. *I think it only fair that since they were banished from my service together then they should be returned unto my service together.*

*Then I will keep him for longer, though I think Olórin and Fionwë will be ready to return to you soon enough.*

Manwë’s nod towards Námo was almost imperceptible and it was doubtful anyone but Varda was aware that they had been communicating silently.

It was while the feast was winding down that Manwë stood and all fell silent, giving the Eldest their respectful attention. "My friends, long have we labored in repairing Atháraphelun from the ravages of this last war. By Atar’s grace we have striven to create as perfect a world for the Children to inhabit as is possible, given the parameters within which we must work. I want to thank everyone for their hard work and dedication. You should all be very proud of yourselves for what we have achieved."

He then sat down and the silence continued, for they had no convention for acknowledging the worthiness of another’s words. Then among the Máyar a single voice was raised in song. Námo recognized Melyanna who sang a song of thanksgiving that was popular among them all. Soon, they were all singing along and a few of the Máyar led by Melyanna began to dance before them all. Finally, as the dancing and singing began to wind down, Tulkas stood and all went silent again, wondering what this newest Ayanuz would say. Tulkas, for his part, seemed unaccountably nervous and Námo and Vairë exchanged amused smiles, guessing what was to come.

"I was not here from the very beginning," Tulkas began without preamble, "yet in the short time that I have been here, I have been made welcome and accepted as one of you. For that, I thank you." He gave Manwë a short bow and the Eldest nodded in acknowledgment. Then Tulkas gave Nessa a sideways glance which she returned with a smile. Oromë, sitting on the other side of his sister had a knowing smile on his own face.

"Yes, well... what I really wanted to say is that in all my existence in the Timeless Halls I never found one whom I could love and I despaired of ever finding someone who could love me in return. Yet, Atar knew better than I where my destiny lay and to whom I would eventually espouse. And so, with Oromë’s blessing and Atar’s, I would formally ask of Nessa if she would consent to become my beloved wife."

There were gasps of surprise among many of the Máyar and scattered clapping as smiles wreathed immortal faces anticipating Nessa’s answer, for there was no doubt in anyone’s mind what that answer would be. Nessa, for her part, rose and placed her hand in Tulkas’ and smiled. "I consent," was all she said, blushing shyly as everyone cheered.

Manwë and Varda then stood, both of them beaming. "Then, if it is your wish to espouse one another," Manwë told them, "let us hear your vows."

Tulkas led Nessa before Manwë and Varda. Oromë joined them, acting as witness. At the last moment, Tulkas indicated he wished Námo and Vairë to also stand beside the couple, much to Námo’s embarrassment and Vairë’s delight. She and Nessa hugged one another before Nessa turned back to Tulkas to offer her vows to him. Tulkas, however, spoke first.

"Nessa, in thee I find my other half and before Atar and these witnesses I would espouse thee now and forever. Knowest thou that I would cherish thee and comfort thee, fight with thee and make up with thee." There was laughter all around at the sly grin he offered her and the blush that stole across Nessa’s visage. "But more than that, I would give thee myself unreservedly and with joy if thou wouldst accept me as thy husband."

"I accept thee, Tulkas, with all my heart," Nessa said sweetly. "And I, my love, find in thee my other half and before Atar and these witnesses I would espouse thee now and forever, if thou wouldst accept me as thy wife."

"I do so wholeheartedly," Tulkas answered.

"Then, let all know that this union between our brother Tulkas and our sister Nessa is acceptable to Atar and to us," Manwë announced. Then, he took Nessa’s hand and laid it in Tulkas’. "May you know only joy, my children."

At that moment Yavanna and Vána approached, each bearing a wreath of sweet grass, wild grains and colorful leaves entwined and placed them on the heads of the newlyweds. Melyanna and Lisselindë began singing a paean of love and the others all joined in while the couple stood gazing shyly into each other’s eyes. As the song ended, Nessa reached up and kissed Tulkas, whispering something in his ear. He nodded, and she stepped away to stand on the sward before the high table. Yavanna and Varda seemed to know what she wished, for they suddenly began singing a different song and Nessa danced.

****

Later, after Tulkas and Nessa had left them to spend time together as husband and wife, the other Ayanumuz were alone at the high table, having dismissed the Máyar to attend to their other duties. Eönwë was most reluctant to leave Manwë’s side but Námo, who technically still held his allegiance, sent him off with Maranwë, instructing them both not to return to Almaren until Ambarhíni had made ten orbits around the black hole.

"Go and amuse yourselves, my children," he told them and Maranwë wasted no time dragging his fellow Máya away, chattering something about throwing ice balls taken from the rings of Askhadphelun.

"Well, that was a nice way to end the feast," Nienna said to no one in particular as she nibbled on a piece of bread.

Several heads nodded in agreement.

"I wonder who’s next?" Varda asked, looking slyly at the other unespoused Ayanumuz.

There was much smiling among them, but no one offered to volunteer. "Give us time, Varda," Irmo said as he held Estë’s hand. "Some of us are not quite as impetuous as our newest Ayanuz."

"A whirlwind romance if there ever was one," Aulë said with a grin and a wink at Yavanna, who merely smirked.

"Not half as quick as our courtship was," she said.

"No indeed," Manwë said with a chuckle. "You two had barely Emerged before you were falling into each other’s embrace. Even Atar was a bit taken aback."

"He never was!" Yavanna exclaimed in shock.

Manwë gave her a sly smile. "He told me, and I quote, ‘I always meant for Aulë and Yavanna to become one in heart and spirit, but I thought they would at least wait until they were a little more mature first.’"

The others sniggered at that while Aulë and Yavanna sat there blushing.

"Can we help it if it was love at first sight?" Aulë muttered, refusing to look at anyone. Yavanna nodded.

"It was love at first sight for Manwë and me as well," Varda countered, giving them a wicked grin, "but even we waited long enough for Atar to properly introduce us to one another before we started blending our aurae."

Now there was outright laughter among them. Námo bent down and whispered something to Vairë who nodded and the two of them began singing a song together. They sang it quietly at first and it took the others a few seconds to realize what these two were up to but when they heard the song there was uproarious laughter as one after another took up the refrain of the song that Ullukeluth had composed in honor of Aulë and Yavanna’s precipitous espousal. Aulë actually groaned and Yavanna glared but eventually they saw the humor of it and took it in good grace, even joining in on the final refrain.

And so the first feast of the Ayanumuz on the newly completed world that would someday see Atar’s other Children come into being ended on a note of gaiety and love.

****

Veryanwë Meren: (Quenya) Wedding Feast.

Mirubhózë: (Valarin) Miruvor.

Note: Ullukeluth is an Ayanuz who remained in the Timeless Halls and is known for his poetry and songs.

38: The Corruption of Beauty

It was Talmavar, Tulkas and Nessa’s Chief Máya, who brought news of the first hint that something was amiss. He was wont to spend much of his time when not attending to his duties roaming the fields and forests of the continent in which Almaren was situated. Once the island had become habitable the rest of the planet soon followed suit. In a short period of time, as the Ayanumuz measured it, wide grasslands and deep forests began to spread across the continent while in the Sea small creatures began to swim.

Talmavar was wandering in the north where the light of Illuin was stronger. The cooler light was more to his liking and he rarely wandered southward past Almaren. Ormal’s flame was too hot for his taste. The Máya enjoyed wandering the land, allowing his hröa to soak in the physical sensations that were yet new to all of them — the warmth of the air caressing his hair, the tang of salt in his nostrils as he combed the white sand beaches, the taste of clear water soothing a dry throat, the sound of his feet rustling through the underbrush and the delight to his eyes of the color green in all its manifold shades.

It was now some time after the wedding feast of his lord and lady. Talmavar stopped in contemplation of that event, having climbed a low ridge of hills that led towards soaring mountains further on. A wide valley stretched before him where a small stream ran merrily between high banks. Lady Nessa had held his allegiance from the very beginning and he and his fellow Máyar had sorrowed that none of the other male Ayanumuz had elected to follow them into Eä, for it was well known that Lord Ulmo had no interest in binding himself to another and the others were either already espoused or nearly so. When Lord Tulkas arrived, however, Nessa’s Máyar regained hope and were pleased when their lady showed interest in the newest Ayanuz and that he reciprocated her feelings. Thus, when the two Ayanumuz made their vows there was much rejoicing among Nessa’s Máyar and Talmavar gladly led his fellows in giving their allegiance to their new lord, as was only proper.

It was while he was staring across the plains below him, thinking about that particular Oath-taking, that the first sign of something amiss penetrated his consciousness. It was a small thing and he would have dismissed it under other circumstances, but he had been this way too many times and knew every rock and tree and this should not have been there. He frowned and made his way down to the valley and strode purposely towards the stream. Rushes normally lined the banks, their golden-brown heads swaying lazily in the breeze, but here they were lying limp and listless and some of the plants were obviously dead.

Plants died, of course. He had seen the cycle of life and death and re-seeding on countless planets throughout the cosmos, but this was something different, something intangibly wrong in a way he could not say. He mentally marked the spot and forwent his original plan to continue northward, turning around and heading back to Almaren. Why he did not simply think himself there he could never afterward say, but something told him to continue the journey in hröa and so he did.

****

He took a slightly different route on his return journey for he hated to repeat himself and there was always more to see and experience. Thus it was that not far from the ridge of hills he had been climbing earlier he came down into a woodland area. The trees were young yet, barely twice his own height for the most part. It had been some time since he had wandered in this direction but the woods had been green and healthy and thriving.

He stood in stunned disbelief when he reached the outer edge of the forest to find trees barren of any leaves or needles, their trunks withered, their sap gone. He felt as if he’d been struck with one of the energy bolts of the Úmáyar and could only stand there in a daze until an errant breeze brought a rotting scent to his sensitive nostrils and to his horror he found himself gagging, struggling for breath. The shock of it was so great that he instantly went incorporeal. He felt nauseous and his usual golden-orange aura was muddy with splotches of deep violet that made him shudder in disgust.

It was only then that he thought himself home, falling into his beloved Ravenni’s embrace before losing all consciousness.

****

"He is still incoherent," Irmo said as he reported to the other Ayanumuz, "but we managed to lift the coordinates that were foremost in his mind. He would not let us treat him until I assured him that we had the coordinates."

Manwë nodded, looking grave. "Oromë, will you and Námo check out the woods? Yavanna, I hesitate to send you but I think under the circumstances...."

"I will go with her," Nessa said.

"As will I," Tulkas added, his expression almost as grave as Manwë’s.

Yavanna looked relieved. The thought that something terrible had happened to her beloved plants made her pale and she dreaded having to face whatever was there alone. Aulë was away with Ulmo checking out the Lamps, making sure they were still stable and she did not want to take her younger sister with her. Vána was more sensitive than most realized and Yavanna wished to protect her from anything... vile.

In seconds the two parties thought themselves away, with Námo calling Eönwë to accompany them at the last moment.

****

Námo, Oromë and Eönwë emerged to find a woods that looked as if it had been blasted by warfare. Everywhere trees stood naked of leaves or needles, their trunks scabrous with sickly looking lichen clinging to them in parasitic union. The undergrowth was equally rotted and there was a sweet sickly smell in the air that caused them to gag. Eönwë actually sicked up, much to his horror and embarrassment. Námo had to hold him through the heaving.

"Breathe through your mouth, not your nose," he told the Máya once Eönwë had recovered somewhat from vomiting. He was still pale and felt weak, but he nodded to his lord and there was a dark look in his eyes, one of determination not to disappoint his lord again.

"You are not a disappointment, Eönwë," Námo said, divining the Máya’s train of thought, "nor are you the first of us to become ill in such a fashion."

Eönwë glanced up at the Ayanuz in surprise, his eyes widening in comprehension as Námo nodded.

"Watch out!"

Námo and Eönwë looked towards the forest as they heard Oromë’s warning shout just in time to see something large and monstrous come crashing towards them from within the woods. Námo had a confused impression of something horned and for all its lumbering size, very swift on its feet. He thrust Eönwë out of the path of the thing barreling down on them and just managed to leap out of its way, tumbling into the bracken. Oromë was beside him in an instant, lending him a hand up.

"Stay here," the Ayanuz commanded, "and keep an eye out for other such creatures. I’m going after this one." With that he took off at a run after the creature that was now crashing through the high grass of the meadow. Námo went over to where Eönwë was just rising from where he had fallen when Námo had pushed him and gave him a hand.

"Are you well?" the Ayanuz asked, concern written all over him.

Eönwë nodded. "I just had the wind knocked out of me is all, lord." He glanced around to see what had happened to the monster but both it and Oromë were gone, apparently disappearing behind a fold in the earth. "Wh-what was that thing?"

Námo shrugged. "I have no idea. Come. I want to investigate further." He turned and strode purposely into the woods and Eönwë reluctantly followed.

The forest, which normally should have been green and full of light, was dark and perilous looking. The further in they went the worse it became. Eönwë studiously kept his eyes on Námo’s back, his very fëa shriveling at the putrid air around them, the sense of darkness and... yes, evil that permeated everything. Námo, oddly enough, seemed unaffected by their surroundings as he continued walking deliberately through the woods... that is, until he happened to turn around and Eönwë saw his expression. The Máya actually quailed at the sight of those amaranthine eyes blazing with a dark fire of their own and Námo had to visibly shutter his emotions, grabbing Eönwë by the arm.

"Steady now," he said solicitously. "Come. I think I’ve found the center of the darkness here." Without another word he turned and continued on and Eönwë had no choice but to follow.

The noisome scent that was everywhere now grew stronger and they were both holding their hands before their faces in a vain attempt to filter out the smell. Deep within the forest was a pool, or what had once been a pool of clear spring water. Now, they saw, it was choked by weeds and slime and there was a rotten smell emanating from it.

"Sulphur," Námo said. "The water is full of it."

"How can this be, lord?" Eönwë asked in bewilderment.

Námo merely shook his head, not bothering to answer. Instead, he made his way along the banks of the pool, stopping with a cry of disgust as he rounded an outcrop of rocks to come upon a scene of complete horror. Eönwë gasped in dismay at the sight. Before them lay the rotting, half-eaten carcasses of several animals, many of them as monstrous in their forms as the one Oromë was chasing, but there were others that were more normal in shape or would have been had they been alive. The decaying offal and rotting flesh were apparently seeping into the pool, polluting it even more.

"This is... wrong," Eönwë said in shocked disbelief.

Námo nodded. "I’ve seen enough," he said quietly. "I want to check with Yavanna. Come." With that he gave Eönwë the necessary coordinates and they thought themselves away.

****

They found Yavanna kneeling beside the stream weeping. Nessa was trying to comfort her. Of Tulkas there was no sign. Námo and Eönwë came upon a scene out of nightmare. In the short amount of time since Talmavar had come this way the stream was turning into a fen, the water running sluggishly, rank and poisonous. There were strange black flying insects never seen before that buzzed annoyingly around them. Námo found himself swatting the air to rid him of the noxious little beasts.

"What is happening, Námo?" Nessa asked when she saw her fellow Ayanuz approach. "What evil has corrupted the beauty we only recently created?"

"You said it, Nessa," Námo replied shortly. "Evil. This stinks of Melkor. Where is Tulkas?"

"He went further north to see if he could trace the source of the corruption," Nessa answered. "Where is Oromë?"

"Hunting," Námo said but he refused to elaborate. Instead, he knelt beside a still weeping Yavanna and put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a hug. "Hush, now, sister. All is not lost. We will find Melkor and remove his taint from this world once and for all. I promise you we will. The Children will not come into a world full of grief and sorrow but full of joy and wonderment."

He stood and brought Yavanna with him. "Come. Let us return to Almaren and give Manwë our report. Tulkas and Oromë will follow in due time. Eönwë, gather the Máyar. They must hear this as well."

"It will be as you say, lord," the Máya said with a bow and then they were all gone, glad to be rid of the dreary scene of corruption slowly spreading southward towards Almaren.

****

They arrived in Almaren to find Oromë already there, the carcass of the beast lying before him as Manwë looked on dispassionately as his fellow Ayanuz gave his report.

"....a difficult time catching up with it," Oromë was saying. "If I’m going to be hunting more of these fell creatures, I will need transportation of some sort."

"You could always follow unclad," Varda suggested, refusing to look at the carcass. Other Ayanumuz were gathered around them and the Máyar whom Eönwë had summoned were beginning to appear in twos and threes, their expressions one of shock.

Oromë gave the Queen of Stars a grin. "What’s the fun of that?" He shook his head as he toed the monster. "It gave good sport but meeting it on foot was not the best way to kill it. I will have to think on it some more." His expression turned pensive.

Manwë, meanwhile, looked up to see Námo approaching with a wan Yavanna. Estë had seen her already and was helping him to support her. "What did you find?"

"Horror and corruption," Námo replied tersely as he released Yavanna into Estë’s care. He then went on to describe what they had found, leaving out Eönwë’s reaction to the stench, for which the Máya was eternally grateful.

Manwë frowned. "From the north? You are sure the source lies there?"

Námo nodded. "Yes. Somehow Melkor has managed to sneak by our sentries...."

"Or he’s had help," Tulkas said even as he emerged amongst them, his expression dark and forbidding.

"Possibly," Námo conceded, refusing to voice his own suspicions with the Máyar listening. He turned to Tulkas. "Did you find anything conclusive?"

Tulkas shook his golden head. "No, but the corruption is even worse beyond the mountains. There are monsters breeding there, great lumbering things. Some appear harmless enough, for they feed on plants, but others are flesh-eaters and they are staining the earth red with their ferocious hunger."

There was a great sigh among them and many closed their eyes, looking defeated. The last war had taken much out of them and their fëar were still recovering from that. Now, it seemed that even worse horrors were being perpetrated by Melkor and his servants and many of the Máyar shuddered at that thought.

"We need to find him," Manwë said, "and I want to double the watch on the Lamps. They are more vulnerable to attack than we."

"If it pleases thee, my lord, I would go and guard Illuin."

Námo looked up to see Aulendil stepping forward, giving the Eldest his obeisance. He frowned, not sure what it was about the Máya that set his teeth on edge.

Manwë nodded. "It is well."

"Perhaps I should go and check on Ormal, lord, for I had a hand in the making of it." Curumo stepped forward to stand beside Aulendil.

"Very well," Manwë said, "and if you see Lords Aulë and Ulmo tell them I wish for them to return to Almaren. For some reason they have both closed themselves off from ósanwë. I think it must have something to do with us being incarnate."

The two Máyar bowed and in an instant were gone. Manwë dismissed the other Máyar and ordered Oromë to get rid of the carcass while the other Ayanumuz drifted away, each lost in their own thoughts of what they had learned. Nothing could be decided until Aulë and Ulmo returned and were advised of what had befallen. Námo, now standing next to Oromë, whispered in his ear. "Something about this does not sit right with me, but I cannot say what it is."

"I feel the same way," Oromë said as he hefted the dead beast onto his shoulder and started away. "Keep your eyes open. I fear we are in for more shocks."

Námo did not dispute him.

39: Behests and Betrayals

The corruption continued to seep slowly southward towards Almaren. Manwë had every available Máya out searching for the source and attempting to track down Melkor. Aulë and Ulmo returned as soon as they heard the news from Curumo when he found them examining Ormal.

"The Lamps are safe enough," Aulë told the other Ayanumuz. "Aulendil and Curumo are very good at what they do. They’ll see that nothing untoward happens to them."

Námo was not so sure, but remained silent. Those particular Máyar were not his to command and he had to trust that Aulë knew them better than he. Still, he continued to have an uneasy feeling and wished he understood the reason for it. He confided in Vairë who gave him a concerned look.

"If you think something is wrong you should tell Manwë," she suggested but Námo shook his head.

"I have nothing concrete to tell him. To simply say that I have a bad feeling about something without specifics would be worse than useless."

"You will tell him though if anything more concrete comes to you, won’t you?" Vairë asked.

Námo nodded. "I would not withhold such information unless specifically ordered otherwise by Atar."

Vairë had to be content with that and the matter was dropped. In the meantime, the hunt continued without success. Yavanna, with Vána and Nessa’s help, attempted to stem the flow of corruption but they had little success. Even as they managed to stop it in one place it appeared in another. Forests were blighted and streams turned into noisome fens. Grasslands withered and there was a never-ending coldness blowing from the north. Snow fell even near the equator and the Sea was tempestuous in spite of Ulmo’s best efforts to calm it, crashing against the coastlines of the continents and bringing great ruin to the shores.

"I suspect one of my People is responsible for this," he told Manwë, "but I have yet to discover who... or why."

"I fear Melkor has a hand in this, leading some of our People astray," Manwë opined with a sigh. "We need to find him and sooner rather than later."

None of them disputed that and so the search continued, but in the end it proved useless.

Námo, in the meantime, was evaluating his three charges. Olórin, he could see, was happily aiding Irmo and Estë with the last of the Máyar who had been injured in the war. These were the ones most severely injured, so much so that their former duties were now beyond their present strengths. Olórin was thus busy helping Ancalequirindë with deciding what functions their fellows could perform honorably so that they did not see themselves as a burden upon their masters.

"It has not been easy, lord," Ancalequirindë told Námo, "but Olórin has been very helpful and has exhibited great patience and compassion when speaking to those whose fëar are still... damaged." She ducked her head in embarrassment and Námo realized that she was placing herself in the same category.

"Say rather that their fëar are fragile and in need of much love and understanding," he said with a gentle smile. "You are doing quite well, child. Your mistress and I are very pleased with you." Ancalequirindë brightened at that and Námo went away satisfied with what he saw in both Máyar.

Fionwë was another matter. His anger had abated somewhat while helping to still the fires and quakes that raged across the planet after the war, but he was still impetuous and inclined to question any order given him. Námo was worried that such anger as still resided in the Máya’s heart would fester into an open sore and provide the very opening Melkor needed to corrupt his fëa. He vowed to himself that that would not happen, though he was presently at a loss as to how to prevent it.

"Fionwë is an enigma," he confided to Oromë. "I cannot seem to get through to him. He is still resentful of me."

"What of the other two?" Oromë asked.

"Eönwë and Olórin both have accepted their punishment and are eager to make amends," Námo said. "In fact, I would willingly release them back to Manwë this very moment but Manwë will not accept any of them back unless all three are ready to be returned to him."

"Hmm... Do you suppose if Fionwë knew that his truculence was preventing them from returning to Manwë’s service he would amend his attitude?"

"I hesitate to force the issue," Námo replied. "It might lead to further resentment later on. He needs to come to terms with his lot on his own. Manwë is in no hurry to receive them back. He knows I will watch over them and keep them safe and the other two are happy doing what they are doing. My People and Vairë’s have been very good at accepting them and treating them no differently than they treat each other."

"That is well," Oromë said with a nod. "If you would like, give Fionwë to me. I plan to do some additional hunting of those monstrous beasts plaguing us. Perhaps he can take some of his anger out on them."

Námo gave him a considering look. "Have you figured out how best to hunt them then?"

"Not really," Oromë said with a scowl, "but I know that I have a better chance against them when I employ a number of my Máyar to help. Fionwë would fit right in."

"Very well. I will send him to you and I will tell him he is to obey you in all things or I’ll know the reason why." Námo flashed his fellow Ayanuz a smile that nonetheless boded ill for a certain Máya if he disregarded Námo’s mandate. Oromë merely nodded, keeping his own thoughts to himself.

****

For once, Fionwë did not object when Námo told him he was giving him to Oromë for a while. In fact, the Máya’s eyes lit up at the prospect of hunting the monsters that were rampaging across the continent. Námo was not sure he liked what he saw in that but decided to let Oromë handle him as he would. His brother Ayanuz had a way with recalcitrant people, as he recalled, smiling to himself at certain memories. Eönwë was with him when he told Fionwë of his new duties and gave the Ayanuz a worried look after Oromë took Fionwë off with him.

"He is so angry, lord," the Máya said. "Why is he so angry?"

"Weren’t you?"

"At first," Eönwë conceded, "but my anger swiftly turned to shame that I had betrayed my oaths to be obedient unto the Ayanumuz. I think Olórin felt similarly, but Fionwë...." he shook his head.

Námo gave him a comforting smile. "He is younger than either of you, is he not?" At Eönwë’s nod, he continued. "I suspect that it will take him longer to come to terms with what has happened. I am hoping that hunting these monsters will make up for me not allowing him to go after the Úmáyar."

"I am glad that you stopped us, lord," Eönwë said with great fervor. "When I think what could have happened if you had not...."

"You see now why I did what I did, do you not?" Námo asked and the Máya nodded. "Good. Then your... punishment was meet. Now come. I wish to take a look at the damage to the coasts. Ulmo is sure one of his People is responsible. I have my suspicions but I need to see for myself before I make any accusations."

Eönwë nodded, well used to his new lord’s ways. His respect for this particular Ayanuz only increased the longer he stayed in his service.

****

They were examining the southwestern coast of one of the smaller continents on the other side of the planet. Ulmo had reported major storms along that particular coastline. The waves that had crashed upon the shore had destroyed the land for several leagues, carving out a new shoreline that was nearly to the mountains that spanned the center of the continent.

"This is bad," Eönwë commented, looking around in shock. "There was a pleasant meadow surrounded by fruit trees not far from here where some of us used to come to relax. Now... why is this happening?"

Námo shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "More importantly, who is doing this? What do you know of Ulmo’s People?"

The Máya gave his lord a startled look. "I haven’t dealt with them all that much. Most prefer to spend their free time in the Sea or wandering along the banks of streams and rivers. I only know a few by name."

Námo nodded. "Are there any who sometimes exhibit... irrational behavior?"

Now Eönwë began to look uncomfortable, hating to speak ill of any of his fellow Máyar before even this particular Ayanuz. Námo understood how he felt. "It is not a betrayal to speak if you know something that may shed light on the subject, Eönwë," Námo said. "Whoever is responsible is in a great deal of emotional pain. Perhaps it is someone ‘acting out’ because of their experiences in the war and they have no other way to deal with it. They need help and if you know something...."

"Look, lord!" Eönwë interrupted, pointing behind the Ayanuz.

Námo turned and frowned. Two of Ulmo’s Máyar were there, further along the new shore, apparently arguing as they came out of the ocean. Neither had noticed him or Eönwë.

"Do you recognize them?" he asked Eönwë.

"Oshosai and Uinen."

"Hmm... let us go see what they are arguing about."

Námo started off with Eönwë trailing him. When they got closer Námo could see that Oshosai was clearly unhappy and Uinen was simply furious.

"...you insane?" they heard Uinen exclaim. "Lord Ulmo holds your allegiance. What can Melkor offer you except grief?"

"You don’t understand...." Oshosai started to say but Uinen cut him off with a snarl and an oath.

"Then why don’t you explain it to me, child," Námo interjected as he approached them.

Both Máyar gasped when they realized they were no longer alone. Uinen actually went to her knees; Oshosai just stood there, rooted to the spot in shock.

"Please, lord, be not angry with my spouse," Uinen pleaded. "He doth not mean to...."

"Be silent, Uinen!" Oshosai snarled. "He is not our lord. We do not owe him any explanations."

Uinen glared at her spouse. "He is one of the Máhanumaz, you fool! He hath our lord’s ear in all things."

"One of you will tell me what is going on," Námo stated baldly, his expression darkening, his manner becoming more threatening. Eönwë recognized the look and flinched, for he had had first-hand experience of an angry Námo. Uinen paled and Oshosai took an involuntary step back.

"It... it is nothing, lord," he stammered. "Merely a... a lover’s quarrel."

"You lie!" Eönwë exclaimed and then stopped in shock, for he truly did not know how he knew this, yet it was true.

Oshosai and Uinen both stared at him in disbelief. Námo’s expression, however, was more thoughtful and he did not censure the Máya’s outburst.

"I heard mention of my fallen Brother," Námo said when he turned his attention back to Oshosai. "I think there is more going on than a lover’s quarrel."

At that Uinen began to weep. "Lord Melkor hath promised Oshosai the rule of the oceans if he leaveth Lord Ulmo’s service and cleaveth to him instead."

Námo gave Oshosai a considering look. "Is this true?"

Oshosai muttered something incomprehensible and refused to look at any of them.

"I asked thee a question, Oshosai," Námo said, his voice cold as the methane snows on Ullubozphelun. "Do not make me ask a second time."

All three Máyar visibly flinched at Námo’s tone. Oshosai only nodded. Námo sighed. "And what did he ask of thee?"

Oshosai looked up and his smile was nearly feral. He gestured at the broken shore. Námo hid a grimace. Instead he called silently to Ulmo who appeared from out of the depths of the Sea, his green-blue beard and long hair trailing behind him in the surf. Both Oshosai and Uinen cowered before him.

"Have mercy, lord," Uinen stammered, but Ulmo stayed her pleas with a gesture, turning instead to Námo.

The two Ayanumuz bespoke one another in ósanwë. Ulmo’s expression darkened and the wind came up behind him, bringing the surf to dangerous heights, but then he breathed a sigh, releasing his anger and the swell lessened, though it still left them all drenched. The Ayanuz who would one day be called Lord of Waters by the Children looked upon Oshosai and Uinen dispassionately.

"Thou hast much to answer for, Oshosai, but I will deal with thee later. Uinen, take thy husband to Aulë. He is already expecting you both."

The two Màyar bowed, though Oshosai still looked somewhat rebellious, and thought themselves away. Ulmo turned to Námo and Eönwë, shaking his head. "As if we don’t have enough to worry about."

"Our brother is insidious in his blandishments and lies," Námo said with a thin smile. "Hopefully, you will be able to regain his allegiance."

"Uinen will have much to say about that," Ulmo replied with a wry smile of his own.

Námo laughed. "Of that, I have no doubt."

Ulmo then bowed to them both before making his way back into the Sea, disappearing under the waves. Námo cast a look at Eönwë, who fidgeted somewhat.

"You knew he was lying," he said and the Máya nodded. "Interesting...."

"But how did I know, lord?" Eönwë asked in confusion. "How do I even know that any of us can utter a... a falsehood?"

"How indeed? I recognize a lie when I hear it but that is because I was subjected to Melkor’s lies for some time, but you... you are too innocent...."

Eönwë bristled at that. "I am not so innocent that I know nothing of Lord Melkor’s ways, lord."

"Peace, child. I do not disparage your experiences, but you are still very innocent of pure evil, all of you are."

*But thou wilt know of it better in time, my child.*

Eönwë fell to his knees in shock, trembling, while Námo merely smiled, his slate-grey eyes brightening. "Don’t frighten him, Atar," he admonished their Creator.

They both heard Atar chuckle and Eönwë relaxed somewhat, though he remained on his knees. *Thou’rt being impudent, Námo,* they heard Atar say, though the tone was loving rather than censorious. Námo’s smile broadened but he did not contradict the One. They both felt His attention rest upon Eönwë, who visibly paled, thinking he was about to be punished for his disobedience, but then a wave of pure love swept gently over them both and the Máya’s demeanor became less servile.

*Now, that is better,* Atar said. *Thou’rt a worthy servant to thy masters, Eönwë, and I am well pleased with thee. Thou hast learnt thy lessons well and so I have decided to give thee more responsibility.*

"Wh-what responsibilities, Atar?" Eönwë asked in a whisper, looking both fearful and pleased at the same time. Námo put a hand on the Màya’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support.

*Thou didst recognize Oshosai’s prevarication, didst thou not?*

Eönwë nodded.

*Thou hast never encountered another who lied in thy presence,* Atar continued, *yet the ability to discern lies from truths hath always been thine. I have waited until thou didst recognize it in thyself before giving thee this behest. I wish for thee, Eönwë of the People of Manwë* — Eönwë fairly gasped at those words and tears began to form; Námo gave him an encouraging smile. — *to be mine Oathkeeper, to record the oaths of all my Children, whomsoever they be.*

Eönwë looked up at Námo in confusion, clearly unsure what Atar was asking of him. "I do not understand...."

"Thou already hast the ability to remember all that is said to thee, dost thou not?" Námo reminded him. At Eönwë’s nod, he continued. "I think Atar is merely giving thee a task that thou performest without thought, but now it will have a focus."

*Námo is correct, my child,* Atar said. *Thine ability to remember all that is said to thee will now be used to record the oaths of all who invoke my Name or even when they do not. Both those oaths they mean to keep and those that are mere lies, thou shalt record for me.*

"B-but why?" Eönwë demanded, totally at sea.

They both sensed Atar’s smile and Eönwë felt his fëa being soothed. *I have my reasons, child. Be thou content.*

"Yes, Atar," the Máya said meekly.

Another wave of love and assurance swept through them and Námo helped Eönwë to his feet, embracing him and giving him a kiss on the brow.

*One other thing,* they heard Atar say. *The record thou shalt make of the oaths of the Children shall be made available to any of the Ayanumuz at their request, but the record of the oaths uttered by you who are from my first Thoughts shall be closed to all except me. Not even Manwë, who is my vice-gerent in Eä, will have the right to view these oaths. Dost thou understand, child?*

"Yes, Atar," Eönwë said simply, though his expression said otherwise.

*That is well. I do not ask an easy thing from thee, Child, for there will be times when the oaths thou shalt record will grieve thee, yet I would not give thee this mandate if I did not know that thou hast the strength to do what must be done. Námo can attest to that, canst thou not, my son?*

Námo merely smiled, giving a nod.

*Then go in peace and in my love, my Children,* Atar said and they felt Him withdrawing His Presence from them.

For a moment the two of them stared at one another, both at a loss for words, then Eönwë gave Námo a shy look. "How should I... record these oaths, do you think?"

"Hmm... a good question. Too bad we didn’t think to ask Atar, though I suspect He would just tell us to figure it out for ourselves." He gave the Máya a wink and Eönwë snorted. He was about to make a comment when they both heard Manwë ‘call’ to them. Without another word they thought themselves back to Almaren to find Manwë and Aulë questioning a distraught Curumo while several of the other Ayanumuz stood around them. Máyar milled about uncertainly at the periphery, concerned and frightened expressions on their faces.

Námo saw Vairë standing near by and went to her. "What happened?" he demanded softly, not wishing to interrupt the interrogation.

Vairë gave him a grim look. "All we know for sure is that some of Melkor’s minions fell upon Curumo as he was guarding Ormal and forced him to flee," she whispered.

"What about Aulendil?" Námo asked, looking about for the Máya but not seeing him.

"That’s what we’re trying to find out," Manwë said, looking up and speaking to Námo directly. "It seems Aulë’s Chief Máya has disappeared. No one knows what has happened to him."

Námo gave Aulë a quizzical look which his fellow Ayanuz returned with a curt nod, and sighed, closing his eyes. He had a sinking feeling that if and when they did find Aulendil they would all regret it.

****

Oshosai: The Valarin form of Ossë’s name.

Ullubozphelun: (Valarin) Ulmo’s Dwelling: Neptune.

Linguistic note: Behest: from OE behæs ‘a vow’ and probably confused with behesten ‘command’, thus the ME shifting of its meaning to ‘that which is willed or ordered; a command; a mandate’ [c.1175].

40: Loss of Innocence

The mystery of Aulendil’s disappearance was answered not long afterward. Manwë was still issuing orders for Manveru and his troops to secure the Lamps when all of a sudden the light about them wavered.

"What was that?" Ilmarë asked fearfully, looking skyward. Others looked up as well and for a split second the stars shone down upon them, then the light returned.

"Quickly!" Manwë ordered, but even as Manveru, Erunáro and the other warrior Máyar faded from sight, the light shifted again and then....

"Quake!" Námo shouted as the ground buckled and heaved. Huge fissures opened up about them, sending giant geysers of hot gases and steam into the now darkened skies. Everyone instinctively went incorporeal. Námo called to Vairë and the two of them gathered their People about them, assuring themselves that all were safe and accounted for. Even Ancalequirindë and Olórin were there with a couple of the still recuperating Máyar between them. They were still weak enough that they needed aid in divesting themselves of their hröar so quickly.

"Everyone safe?" Vairë asked, mentally taking a head count.

There were acknowledgments all around. Námo turned to Maranwë. "Take any of those still recuperating to the oasis on Nasarphelun. Irmo and Estë will most likely use that as their base for treating any wounded. Choose a dozen Máyar to stand guard over them."

Maranwë bowed. "I will lead the guards myself, lord. None shall threaten the wounded."

"Good. Thank you, Maranwë. Now be off with you. Ancalequirindë, Olórin, go with him. I am trusting you to see these worthy Máyar to safety." He indicated the two recuperating Máyar.

Both had expressions of mingled shame and rebellion at the thought of being herded about. "I can fight, lord," one of them said almost pleadingly.

Námo embraced him. "Indeed thou canst. Thou canst fight best by helping my brother and Lady Estë with whatever task they require of thee. Thou knowest better than most what will be needful to ensure that the wounded are made comfortable. Ye both do," he added, including the other injured Máya in his appraisal. "Go now, all of you."

With that they left. Námo and Vairë then gave orders for the other Máyar in their service to join their brethren in the fight. All this time the earth had suffered terribly. Almaren was in flames and the lake in which it sat was boiling with acid. Volcanoes had erupted to the north where the mountains were and pyroclastic clouds rained down everywhere. Quakes continued to increase in severity and now thunder and lightning storms burst suddenly around them as hurricane winds swept across the Sea, causing tidal waves to swamp the low-lying coasts.

And the Lights of the Two Lamps were forever extinguished.

Námo and Vairë joined the other Ayanumuz who were gathered around Manwë. "Where is Oromë?" Námo asked, not seeing the future Lord of the Hunt.

"He’s at the front, directing the troops," Manwë answered. "He was already far to the north when the attack came but he and his party were too few to save Illuin, though they were able to hold off Melkor’s minions until we could get reinforcements to them."

"Melkor must be very sure of himself to attack as he has," Aulë said. "Are we going to just wait for him to destroy everything we’ve worked so hard to accomplish?"

"No," Manwë answered, "but our primary concern is to save what we can of this world. We will have to take a defensive stand rather than an offensive one."

Námo’s aura darkened towards the ultra-violet, indicating dismay. "Melkor needs to be stopped now. What good will it do always to remain on the defensive? Sooner or later it will no longer be sufficient, and then what?"

Manwë’s steady blue aura flickered with tongues of green and indigo, indicating frustration and sorrow. "I know, Námo, but...."

"My lords, look!"

They all turned to see Eönwë, who had remained beside Námo waiting for instructions, pointing towards the north. They could see a darker blot against the darkened sky moving fast towards them and with a sinking feeling Námo knew it was Melkor’s own troops. Ulmo motioned to the south where a similar, though smaller cloud of Úmáyar could be seen heading their way. Both groups of the enemy were shooting energy bolts into the earth, inciting further quakes, causing great rents in the crust that were nearly tearing the world apart. Aulë’s aura went incandescent with shock when he saw Aulendil leading the northern enemy troops.

"I don’t think we have any choice now," he said heavily, sorrow too deep to measure in his voice. "We must save what we can and leave Melkor for another day."

And so the second war of Arda began.

It did not last as long as the first war. For one thing the battlefield was localized. None of them went off-planet. Manwë’s fury was boundless and Tulkas was relentless in his pursuit of Melkor, but they failed to find him, for he hid from their sight in the fastness of his stronghold far to the north. The Úmáyar proved less threatening than anticipated and Oromë opined that their only task was to distract the Ayanumuz while their master fled. Námo was of the same opinion.

"Melkor is a coward," he said even as he casually took out one of the Úmáyar who had been attempting to sneak past their defensive line. "Even chained as I was he never met with me alone. Always one of his lackeys was with him as he tormented me."

Short as the war was, it was nevertheless ferocious and by the end they were all exhausted and the earth was in torment. The Ayanumuz fought valiantly to save what they could of Almaren but it was mostly ash and rubble by the end and none could look upon their first home without weeping and cursing. Námo noticed Eönwë growing steadily more quiet as the war continued. He had released the Máya from his service temporarily so he could join his fellow warriors at the front where he distinguished himself in the fighting, very often leading sortie after sortie against the enemy. As time went on, however, the Máya became less active and at one point during a brief lull in the fighting he requested to be reassigned.

Námo gave him a searching but sympathetic look. "The oaths of all of us are wearing you down, aren’t they?"

"Yes, lord," Eönwë answered quietly. "Sometimes it is not so bad, but lately... the... the voices won’t stop. I don’t know if I can... continue."

"Yes you can," Námo said forcibly, embracing him. "Atar would not have given you this mandate if He did not believe you could rise above whatever discomfort it may cause you." He thought for a moment. "Go to Nasarphelun and remain with the wounded. I will tell Irmo that you are to be left alone unless you purposely seek out companionship. When you are ready to rejoin us we’ll be here."

Eönwë gave him a grateful look and with a bow did as Námo bade.

Finally, the last of the Úmáyar fled into the depths of space, hiding inside clouds of dark matter until such time as their master called for them once again. The Ayanumuz looked around to see all that they had worked for gone.

"Do we hunt down Melkor?" Tulkas asked, his eyes flashing with barely concealed anger and frustration at failing to catch their fallen brother. "He is hiding somewhere in the north I deem. Leastwise, there were no reports among the Máyar of seeing him fleeing off-planet like his spineless troops."

"Even if he is somewhere on the planet," Manwë countered, "I will not risk rending this world any more than it already is to find him. We must concentrate on saving from ruin all that can be saved for the Children’s sake. We know not the hour or the place of their dwelling."

The others reluctantly agreed and so they turned their attention to preserving what they could. Almaren was completely lost but Aulë determined that its rubble could be used to construct another home for them. Other lands were brought forth from the ruins with two or three large landmasses brought close together in the eastern hemisphere while in the western hemisphere they raised a single continent which they called Amanaphelun. Manwë and Varda called upon Atar to bless the new land and hallow it.

Decisions were also made concerning defenses, knowing that Melkor lurked somewhere on the planet.

"We can raise mountains along the eastern seaboard," Aulë suggested. "If Melkor is going to attack it is likely from that direction. It may not stop him but it could slow him down."

Manwë nodded. "That might work. Let us do so. I think I will also construct a mansion for us on the highest peak. From there we can keep watch over the outer lands."

Thus the Pelóri range was raised and the mountain that the Children afterwards called Oiolossë was the tallest of all, its great peak named after the mountain on Nasarphelun where the Ayanumuz had often held their councils during the previous war. Later, the Children would render its name as Taniquetil, the High White Horn of Valinor. Amidst its eternal snows the Máyar constructed Manwë and Varda’s mansion. Their chief throne room was built so that they could look out across the wide expanse of the world and see all that was happening around them. The mansion also served as temporary accommodations for the other Ayanumuz until their own residences were built on the plains to the southwest of Taniquetil.

The place where the Ayanumuz built their halls would one day be called Valmar, but for now it remained nameless, for it was the only city in the land. It was oriented along a northeast-southwest axis where Manwë and Varda’s mansion stood at the northeast point. Námo and Vairë built their mansion opposite, for even though they were not officially espoused, neither saw any reason to construct separate halls. The others followed suit. Irmo and Estë constructed their mansion to the left of Námo’s while Nienna built hers on Námo’s right. Aulë and Yavanna built a manse to Manwë’s right while Ulmo’s was to his left, sitting in the midst of an artificial lake, reminiscent of Almaren. Tulkas and Nessa decided to build theirs between Ulmo’s and Nienna’s while Oromë and Vána’s residence stood opposite them. An avenue of multicolored flagstones ran between the mansions and in the center a fountain was built in which a tall bell tower stood; the Mindon Nyellion it was afterwards called.

Surrounding the city were gardens and meadows, vast forests and orchards and what light that could be saved from the ruins of the Lamps was brought there, though it was pale and held little warmth in comparison to the Lamps themselves. However weak the light of Amanaphelun was, it was more than the rest of the planet received, for the Ayanumuz spent all their energies in beautifying their own continent and paid little heed to anything else for a time.

During all this, two events occurred, both of them in the newly hallowed throne room of the Ayanumuz. The first was the formal releasing of Eönwë, Fionwë and Olórin from Námo’s service and returning them to Manwë. Námo and Oromë had been pleased by Fionwë’s performance during the war and judged that all three had learned their lesson in obedience to the Ayanumuz. Manwë accepted them back with great joy and their brethren welcomed them with much rejoicing.

The second event was less happy but its end was no less satisfying. Oshosai was brought before Ulmo and Manwë. Aulë had kept him out of the war for fear that he might be seduced by Melkor if not guarded. That had not pleased the Máya, though Uinen had expressed her gratitude.

"My husband is a fool," she told Aulë, "but I love him too much to see him destroy himself, as surely he would should he ever take oath to Melkor."

Aulë had spent some time during the clean up after the war speaking to Oshosai, imploring him not to take the same path as his own Máya had. "No good can come of it, child," the Ayanuz said, his voice laced with deep sorrow. "I do not know if I could have prevented Aulendil from taking such a drastic and fatal step. Perhaps not. He never gave me cause to doubt his loyalty and yet...." He sighed, then gave Oshosai a hard stare. "My heart is nigh broken in two at the betrayal of one whom I loved as a son. Do not do to thine own lord what has been done to me. Enough sorrow has entered our land without increasing it."

Oshosai’s demeanor became less resentful and more thoughtful at these words and when he appeared before Ulmo he pled forgiveness and it was granted, though Ulmo later admonished Uinen in private.

"Keep an eye on thy husband, my daughter," he told her. "I sense a wildness in his heart that might never be quenched but can be controlled."

Uinen nodded, well aware of her spouse’s failings.

****

Not everyone was sanguine about the raising of the Pelóri mountains or their reason for doing so. Námo especially objected to it, though he expressed his displeasure to Oromë only. The Hunter of Evil was sympathetic but resigned.

"Even with the mountains raised, I doubt Melkor’s taint will be kept out of Amanaphelun," he opined. "I saw him briefly during the war, though he was too far away for me to capture him. He has changed, Námo. I hardly recognized him yet I could tell that in hröa he was weaker than he once was."

"What do you think it means?" Námo asked, intrigued in spite of himself.

Oromë shrugged. "I am not sure but it seemed as if...as if he had allowed some of his native power to leave him."

Námo gave his fellow Ayanuz a surprised look. "Why would he do that?"

Again Oromë shrugged. "Did you not notice how the earth answered to his commands during the fighting? We were hard put to keep the worst of the damage under control. I think perhaps he has imbued some of his power into the very earth itself."

Námo’s expression was one of shock at that revelation and he spent much time contemplating its import while the construction of Amanaphelun continued.

****

Tulkas, not surprisingly, was also dismayed at the decision to ward their continent and, as he put it rather bluntly to Manwë during a council meeting, ‘hide behind our little hills’. Manwë was not pleased by the implication of Tulkas’ words and there was much heated discussion between them while the other Ayanumuz stood by, unwilling to take sides. Finally, Manwë raised his hand in an imperious gesture.

"The decision has been made, Tulkas," he said. "However, there is nothing that prevents you from leaving Amanaphelun if remaining here displeases you. Go if you wish or stay. It matters not to me, but the mountains will be built." He turned his sapphirine eyes upon the rest of them. "That applies equally to you all. I will not prevent any from leaving. You are not prisoners and I am not your gaoler."

That seemed to be the end of the discussion. Later, Tulkas went to Manwë in private and apologized, assuring the Eldest that he had meant no disrespect of his authority. "I guess I am just frustrated at Melkor constantly eluding me," he admitted. "Sometimes I just want to tear this planet apart stone by stone until I finally find that miserable piece of slime."

Manwë gave him a sympathetic smile. "Sometimes I do, too," he confessed.

Tulkas gave him a startled glance and then as they stared into each other’s eyes, he came to realize in what a terrible position Manwë had been placed as the Elder Brother of them all, striving to protect what could be protected from the ravagement of Melkor’s consuming hatred. It was at that moment that the two of them came to an understanding and Tulkas never again disputed any decision ratified by Manwë but became his staunchest supporter.

"I am not as wise as the rest of you," he told Manwë, feeling suddenly inadequate.

Manwë embraced him and gave him a loving kiss as between brothers. "You are wise in your own way, Tulkas. After all, you espoused Nessa, didn’t you?" He gave Tulkas a wink and they both started laughing, their feud forgotten, their friendship restored.

****

Amanaphelun: (Valarin) Blessed Dwelling, what would one day be called Valinor. That part of the continent in which the Valar and Maiar dwell is properly called Aman. The name is constructed based on examples of other attested Valarin words; cf. Atháraphelun.

Historical Note: Fifty Valian years (479 solar years) passed between the destruction of the Two Lamps and the founding of Amanaphelun (Valinor).

41: Trees and Thrones

Others came to Manwë to speak in private as well. At Eönwë’s plea, Námo accompanied the Máya to an audience that took place in an inner courtyard of Ilmarin, as the mansion on Taniquetil was being called. It was still under construction but this particular courtyard was somewhat private and Manwë had ordered others to stay away.

Eönwë was nervous, not sure how his lord would react to his request. He had confided in Námo and knew the Ayanuz would support him. When the three were alone, Manwë waited for the Máya to speak.

"It is this, lord," Eönwë said. "I was given a... a mandate from Atar just before the war."

Manwë gave him a surprised look and turned to Námo, who nodded in confirmation. "Go on," he instructed the Máya.

"As you know, I remember everything that is told to me. I never understood why I had such a... a gift, but Atar has since told me that I will be responsible for recording the oaths of the Children when they finally awaken." He had already decided not to mention the other oaths he was required to record to anyone; only Lord Námo knew about that part.

Manwë did not speak, merely nodded encouragingly and Eönwë continued. "I need a room, lord, here in Ilmarin, a room where I can keep a record of the oaths given. It needs to be a private room to which only I have access."

Manwë frowned slightly at that and Námo decided to speak. "The record of the oaths will be available to the Ayanumuz at need, Manwë, but the Máyar should have no access to it. I do not think Eönwë’s request is unreasonable under the circumstances."

"Oh, I agree," Manwë said. "I was simply thinking where we can construct this room for you, Eönwë. Perhaps somewhere along the eastern wall where it looks out upon the ocean."

"Actually, I would prefer the room have no windows, lord. An inner room would work best."

"As you will. Go to Aulë and tell him your requirements. He will see that you are given whatever you need."

Eönwë bowed to Manwë and gave Námo a grateful smile before departing. Manwë gave his fellow Ayanuz a considering look. "And what do you have to request from me?"

Námo smiled. "Not a request as such," he said. "It’s more a... suggestion."

"And what are you suggesting?"

Now Námo looked pensive. "I do not understand why, but I keep getting images of a place just outside of our city, to the west of it actually, of a great green mound and then beyond it fourteen thrones encircling a grassy field. I have had these images come to me for some time but their import is hidden from me."

"Hmm...." Manwë said, looking thoughtful. "This mound that you saw... was there anything on it?"

Námo shook his head. "Yet I deem it of great importance to us."

"Then at the next council meeting let us discuss your... vision, for lack of another word, and see what the others have to say. What do you think is the significance of the thrones?"

Námo shrugged. "I am not sure, but whenever I see them in my mind’s eye, one word comes to mind — judgment."

Manwë raised an eyebrow at that, looking thoughtful.

****

The matter of Námo’s vision of the mound and thrones was brought to the attention of the other Ayanumuz shortly thereafter. Yavanna was complaining that the light they had managed to salvage was insufficient to allow her plants and animals to flourish. "I need more light and heat," she said. "Why can we not construct other Lamps for our purpose?"

Aulë shook his head. "I fear the Lamps proved too vulnerable to attack. In that we were rather foolish and naive. If we are to construct anything it should be smaller, easier to guard."

Yavanna looked thoughtful. "I suppose I could come up with something more... organic for our needs."

Námo looked at Manwë, his expression one of surprise as he felt the revelation of Yavanna’s words hit home. Manwë, understanding what Námo was feeling, nodded back. "Perhaps you can... plant something," he suggested, keeping the smile that threatened to break free hidden.

Yavanna’s eyes lit up. "Trees! I could plant trees that give off light and heat, but they would have to be situated high up for the best effect."

"A mound, then," Manwë said, giving Námo a surreptitious smile. Námo’s own eyes brightened though his expression remained politely impassive, as if the discussion of light-bearing trees was only mildly interesting. "We can construct an artificial mound. I think somewhere outside the city, to the west, perhaps, where the plain opens up more."

Yavanna thought for a moment and then nodded, a pleased smile brightening her face. "I think that would be perfect. Thank you."

Manwë merely nodded. Námo was hard pressed not to start laughing, but then the image of the thrones intruded and he sobered immediately. Turning to his fellow Ayanumuz he cleared his throat. "There is something else that needs consideration."

They all gave him his attention. Námo gave Manwë a glance and the Eldest nodded encouragingly.

"Yes, well... I have been having these... um... visions lately of fourteen thrones set in a circle upon a grassy field. I do not understand why but I think it important that we consider constructing them and...." — here he looked at Yavanna, giving her a smile — "I have seen the mound Manwë has suggested we build and the thrones lie just beyond them."

Some of the others looked at Námo with various degrees of surprise mingled with disbelief, though a few nodded, knowing that Námo’s visions did not occur for no reason. Varda was the first to speak. "I have reason to trust Námo’s visions, even if their import is unknown. Let us, then, build the mound for Yavanna and the thrones as Námo has seen them. In time, I am sure, Atar will reveal their purpose to us."

No one could advance an argument not to do as Varda suggested and so plans were made to construct the mound to Yavanna’s specifications and each of them began to think how they wished to have their throne built. If the Máyar were surprised at the orders given them after the council adjourned, they were wise enough to keep their opinions to themselves.

****

Building the mound proved easy enough, though Yavanna was quite specific as to how and with what materials it was to be constructed. Some of her instructions appeared strange to the others. "I wish for something from each of you," she told her fellow Ayanumuz. "It need not be specially important, but it needs to be meaningful to you."

The others went away to think on it. One by one they came to her with their gifts, often looking embarrassed, but Yavanna only smiled and thanked them warmly. Most of the gifts held no real value — Ulmo gave her a perfectly formed spiral seashell while Varda offered a lock of her hair, saying that Manwë thought it her best feature.

Manwë’s own gift was, surprisingly, a dead nermir. "I found it on the planet where Námo and Vairë were held captive by Melkor," he told her. "I felt responsible for setting the nermir as a diversion and when this one was killed I kept it preserved as a reminder of the price we must pay for this infernal war against our brother."

Yavanna didn’t say anything but she took the bright-hued creature into her hands and reached up to give Manwë a kiss. "You are full of surprises, my brother," she said.

Aulë gave her one of his smaller star cores. "Blasted thing is just getting in the way," he muttered before going back to the smithy he had had built on the far side of their mansion, not giving her a chance to thank him, though her smile held a promise of ‘rewarding’ him for his sacrifice later.

Nienna showed up at one point with a cut-crystal vial barely the size of her thumb. It was filled with what appeared to be water. "Tears," she explained. "I’ve been collecting them from all who have been wounded in these last wars, just one drop from each person."

Yavanna looked at the vial in awe, knowing full well the price many of their Máyar and even some of the Ayanumuz had paid, and thanked her with a warm embrace.

Oromë came to her with a leaf from one of her trees. The leaf was golden. He gave her an embarrassed look. "I just liked the way it looks," he muttered, shrugging.

She smiled. "So do I," she confided. "Thank you."

Her sister, Vána, brought her a bouquet of wildflowers she had picked, saying their beauty reminded her somewhat of the Timeless Halls, though she couldn’t say exactly why. Yavanna kissed her and said she had created them just because she remembered how much Vána had loved the flowers in Atar’s garden.

Irmo and Estë came together. He brought a bowl of water and she held a beautiful black stone flecked with red, green and blue. "The water is from our oasis on Nasarphelun," Irmo explained, "and the stone is from Dáhanigwishtelgun... the real one." He flashed her a grin and she laughed, giving them both a hug.

Nessa brought her a carving she had made of one of the small fish that swam in Ulmo’s artificial lake. It was quite life-like. When Yavanna asked her why she had carved the fish, Nessa just shrugged. "The piece of wood just seemed to want to be a fish," was her only explanation.

Tulkas thought long and hard about what he could give to Yavanna, despairing that he had anything to give her that would be worth giving. Finally, after much reflection he went to her and told her story after story about his misadventures in the Timeless Halls, stories he had yet to share with anyone else.

"I didn’t want to appear... foolish or anything," he said, blushing, when she asked him why he had never told the others these stories. She had been hard pressed to stop laughing long enough to ask her question.

She smiled gently at him and gave him a kiss and a hug. "You are not foolish, dear heart. Your love of life and your gift of laughter can never make you appear foolish to us. Thank you. I will treasure always that you trusted me enough to share yourself with me in this fashion."

Tulkas ducked his head in embarrassment and she gave him another heartfelt hug.

Námo and Vairë came to her together, holding one another’s hands, both looking somewhat nervous, even tense. "We couldn’t decide what we wanted to give," Námo told her. "Both of us have lost so much because of... of Melkor. I, especially." He stopped, giving Vairë a sad look.

Vairë smiled encouragingly at him before turning to Yavanna. "We decided that the only thing we both had worth giving you was our pain." She then proceeded to tell her about her experiences while being held captive and how she had felt afterward. She spoke in a low emotionless tone, not looking at anything in particular. Námo never let go of her as she spoke. When she finished her narrative Námo started speaking without giving Yavanna a chance to comment. The future Lady of Fruits stared at the two in horror and sympathy. As terrible as Vairë’s account had been to hear, Námo’s was positively heartbreaking. Even so, she had the feeling that he did not tell her everything, not even the worst of it, but she accepted what he was willing to tell her and before he was done she was holding them both in her embrace, rocking them as they started weeping and offering whatever comfort they would accept from her.

"I am so sorry," she finally said through her own tears, "and I am also grateful that you were both willing to confide in me. I will always treasure this moment. Thank you."

For some time after, the three of them sat upon the Mound talking about nothing and everything and when they eventually parted company for a time, the light from Námo’s and Vairë’s eyes shone clearer than before and they appeared calmer and more at ease with themselves than they had been for many long ages.

****

Even as the Ayanumuz were finding appropriate gifts for Yavanna, they were also busy crafting their thrones. Each of them had thought long and hard as to what their particular throne should look like. Unlike the thrones in Ilmarin, which were all the same, these thrones would be unique, with no two quite the same, reflecting in some way the characters of the ones who would sit in them.

The thrones were constructed of single gemstones created by Aulë to the specifications of the others. Manwë decided on a blue gem that Aulë called a sapphire; Varda’s was a diamond. Yavanna chose a green beryl that would one day be called an emerald by the Children, while Aulë himself chose a deep red gem called a ruby.

"It is very powerful," he said, "perhaps the most powerful gem I have ever created. I fear few will have the strength of will to handle it safely."

The other Ayanumuz chose other gems that were not as powerful but still spoke to them: Ulmo’s throne was crafted from a single marilla taken from the depths of the sea, while Nienna carved hers from grey nyéresar. Irmo’s throne was arnasar and Estë’s was a beautiful shade of purple amethyst. Tulkas chose amber wherein one of the strange creatures that had come into being from Melkor’s corruption was forever caught. Nessa’s throne was yellow topaz, Oromë’s was hendufion and Vána’s was a pleasing shade of apple-green laurelaiquaimírë. Surprisingly, Vairë chose a black opal while Námo’s was an orange-red carnelian.

The actual placement of the thrones took some thought. In the end, they set them in the same pattern as their mansions were situated in Valmar, so that Manwë’s and Varda’s thrones faced those of Námo and Vairë, respectively. That meant that Námo had an unobstructed view of the Mound, which they had started calling the Ezellohar, rising above them.

For some reason he could not articulate, Námo carved into the back of his throne a depiction of a sun being eclipsed. When Manwë asked him about it, he shrugged. "I just thought it would look nice, is all."

The others watched as the eclipsed sun took shape and began to think of what they would like to carve into their own thrones. For some, it was easy enough to come up with something. Varda, for instance, carved an eight-pointed star into hers, but Manwë’s throne remained smooth of any carving for a long time, for he could not think of anything appropriate.

"What should we name this place?" Nessa asked once all the thrones were in place. The Máyar were gathered just outside the ring, looking on with great interest as their masters and mistresses sat upon their thrones for the first time. There was silence at Nessa’s question as everyone pondered it.

"Mahananashkad," came a whisper and all turned to see Námo sitting on his carnelian throne, looking grim, "for it will be here that we will speak the dooms that will forever govern Atháraphelun until the Renewing."

For a long moment no one spoke. Then, Manwë nodded, his expression almost as grim as Námo’s. "So be it."

****

Finally, Yavanna announced that she was ready to bring forth her trees and they all gathered around to witness the event. She planted the various objects that the Ayanumuz had given her on the top of the mound. Tulkas’ gift and those of Námo and Vairë she held inside her and when she began to Sing a Song of Power, she incorporated their gifts in it, strengthening the Song with the power of laughter and pain overcome.

As she sang, slowly two tender shoots sprang up and silence reigned across all of Atháraphelun, save for Yavanna’s chanting. The saplings grew apace under her guidance, becoming fair and tall. One had leaves of dark green that beneath were as shining silver and silver light dripped from the flowers that bloomed among his leaves. This tree was the first to come to full stature and flower, casting his silvery light upon them all, dappling them with purple shadows. The second bore leaves of a young green like the new-opened beech; their edges glittering gold. Flowers hung in clusters of yellow flame that spilled golden rain upon the Mound and great warmth and light came from them.

As the Two Trees came to the fullness of their height and bloom, Yavanna ceased her Song and all beheld her creations with awe and wonder.

"What shall you name them, sister?" Manwë asked reverently, after he invoked Atar’s blessing upon the Trees and hallowed them and the Mound upon which they stood.

Yavanna thought for a moment before speaking. She placed one hand on the silvery-grey trunk of the elder Tree. "Ibrínithilpathanezel I name thee, for the silver light thou dost cast, which shall ever soothe the soul and bring repose."

They all nodded in agreement. Then she placed a hand on the second Tree. "Tulukhedelgorus I name thee, for thou’rt golden and gladsome and thy presence shalt bring warmth where now is only cold."

Again, the other Ayanumuz nodded, well pleased with the naming. Then each of them walked up to the Mound, beginning with Manwë, and gave the Trees their blessings, marveling anew at the light and shadows that they cast. Tulkas and Nessa were the last to give the Trees their blessings and when they had finished, Irmo and Estë stepped forward.

"We have decided to celebrate this feat with another equally as bold," Irmo said with a wide grin. "Estë and I have decided the time is meet for us to finally espouse."

There were glad cries all around. Irmo found himself being simultaneously hugged and kissed by his siblings while Estë was surrounded by Vairë, Nessa, Varda and Yavanna. In the midst of the congratulations being bestowed on the couple, they heard someone clearing his throat and all turned to see Oromë standing there, red in the face as he held Vána’s hand. She was looking equally embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

"Er... um... care to make it a double wedding?" was all Oromë could manage to say.

For a second or two there was a surprised silence and then several Ayanumuz fell upon them, laughing and rejoicing that these two had finally come to an understanding. The Máyar also rejoiced, raising paeans of joy and thanksgiving as the two couples plighted their troths under the Lights of the Two Trees.

****

All words are Valarin.

Ezellohar: The Green Mound. It was also called, in Quenya, Coron Oiolairë, Corollairë or Corlairë, all with the meaning ‘Mound of Eversummer’.

Mahananashkad: The Doom Ring. The Eldar would later render the name in Quenya as Máhanaxar. It was also called Rithil-Anamo with the same meaning.

Ibrínithilpathanezel: Telperion.

Tulukhedelgorus: Laurelin.

****

The thrones and the meanings of the gems:

Manwë: Sapphire: Symbolic of wisdom and purity.

Varda: Diamond: A symbol of innocence and constancy.

Aulë: Ruby: Considered the most powerful gem in the universe, it is a symbol of friendship and love. It gives the wearer the ability to see things in a true and correct manner.

Yavanna: Emerald: Used to ward off demons and evil spirits.

Ulmo: Marilla: What we call Pearl and a symbol of purity and innocence.

Nienna: Nyéresar: Sorrow stone; what we would call Galena. Grey is the color of sorrow and galena is a stone of transformation and used while embarking on a spiritual journey.

Irmo: Arnasar: What we would call Imperial Jade and used to protect against nightmares and psychic attacks.

Estë: Amethyst: A healing stone symbolic of spirituality and piety.

Tulkas: Amber: A symbol of courage and the presence of Eru.

Vána: Yellow Topaz: Symbolic of friendship, strengthening one's capacity to give and receive love.

Oromë: Hendufion: Hawk’s Eye. Promotes clear thinking and insight. Usually known by us as Tiger’s eye.

Nessa: Laurelaiquamírë: What we call Chrysoprase, an apple-green gemstone. It helps to make conscious what was unconscious. It strengthens the workings of insight and the higher consciousness.

Vairë: Black Opal: A symbol of faithfulness, confidence and hope.

Námo: Carnelian: An orange-red chalcedony that has the power to ease fears about rebirth (for the Eldar) and death (for Mortals).

****

Note: Much of the description of the creation of the Two Trees is taken directly from the Silmarillion, however, except for Nienna’s tears, all the other ‘gifts’ are purely the invention of the author.

42: The Sin of Aulë

"Aulë has been acting strange lately," Yavanna confided to Námo some time after the creation of the Trees.

"How so?" Námo asked. He was on Ezellohar watching the mingling of the Lights, a favorite pastime with all of them. At the moment Tulukhedelgorus was waning and Ibrínithilpathanezel was waxing and so, as they had begun to reckon Time, this particular day was ending.

Yavanna shrugged as she gathered some of the light from Tulukhedelgorus to store in one of the wells that had been constructed for that purpose. A couple of her Máyar were helping. "He’s become secretive, disappearing for hours on end, and when he is physically here, he is still somewhere else in his thoughts. He won’t talk to me, though I have tried to get him to speak. I fear Aulendil’s betrayal has cut more deeply than he will admit. He has not yet declared a new Chief Máya, in spite of the fact that it has been nearly a hundred years since the war."

Námo nodded, well aware of most of this. Ulmo had ceased to reside in Amanaphelun on a regular basis, preferring to roam the depths of the Seas that were his first love and they had gotten used to that but Aulë’s long disappearances were being remarked among even the Máyar and Námo had wondered at it. However, as long as Aulë did not neglect his duties to them, there was little anyone could do about it. Not even Manwë had the right to question Aulë’s whereabouts.

Still....

"Has he been exhibiting unusual or irrational behavior?" Námo asked. He was aware from speaking with Irmo and Estë that a few of the Máyar, even those who had not suffered any injury during the last war, had shown some odd behavior, suffering what his brother was calling ‘flashbacks’ where it seemed they were refighting the war. While none of the Ayanumuz had been wounded in the last conflict with Melkor, who was to say that even someone as stalwart as Aulë could not suffer in fëa? Certainly the betrayal of his Chief Máya had been a devastating blow for all of them. How much more must it have been for Aulë?

Yavanna stopped to think about the question. "He has begun to refuse his Máyar admittance to his forges."

Námo stared at Yavanna in surprise. That was a new development. For any of them to refuse to deal with those who had given them their allegiance was unheard of. "Perhaps he is afraid to trust any of them given what happened with Aulendil."

"I think it’s more than that," Yavanna said with a frown even as she continued to gather the golden light that had fallen from the younger Tree, "but in what way, I cannot as yet determine."

"Have you spoken with Manwë about this?"

Now Yavanna stopped and gave him an embarrassed look. "I... I’m afraid to."

Námo felt his eyebrows nearly leave his forehead in shock. He took her into his arms. "Whatever for?" he asked.

"If he learned that I... I went behind his back...."

Now Námo was truly alarmed. For Yavanna to be afraid of her own beloved spouse....

"Not afraid of... afraid for," she said, having divined his thoughts. "He scares me, Námo. I’m afraid of what he might do."

"To you?"

She shook her head. "To himself."

A silence stretched between them as Námo contemplated her words. It was true, he had seen little of Aulë lately, so he could not say for sure if what Yavanna had told him was true, yet he did not doubt her sincerity. She was genuinely afraid for Aulë in his dark mood. "What would you like me to do?" he finally asked her, pulling her away from his embrace to look her in the eyes.

She smiled, looking relieved. "Would you talk to him?"

"Why me?" he asked in genuine confusion.

"Irmo told us how you helped Melyanna when she went missing."

"Ah... of course," he said with a nod. "Very well, I will go and speak to him but if he will not see me...."

"I know, but I would appreciate you trying. At least I will know whether or not I am just imagining his... odd behavior."

Námo nodded. "Then I will seek him out, but I cannot promise anything."

"Atar bless you," she whispered, giving him a grateful kiss.

He smiled. "He already has."

****

Knowing that Yavanna was very concerned about Aulë, Námo wasted no time seeking the Smith of Arda out. He went first to Aulë’s workshop in Ilmarin but did not find him there so he traveled to their city where his main forge was located. It proved strangely empty.

"Aulë! Aulë!" he cried but there was no answer save the echo of his call. He considered for a moment and then thought himself to the newly constructed Urnambar. He scanned the barren world for any sign of his fellow Ayanuz without any luck. Now concerned, he set his mind roaming the cosmos in search of his older brother, seeking him in a way similar to what he had done when he went looking for Melyanna. There was nothing, not even an echo of Aulë’s aura anywhere.

"Atar," he whispered deep in his mind. "Where could he have gone?"

And then it came to him....

****

"Nice forge," Námo said in greeting and was secretly pleased to see Aulë jump, for the Ayanuz had been too busy hunched over his work to notice Námo’s arrival.

"Where did you come from?" Aulë demanded angrily, brandishing the hammer he had been using. "How did you get here?"

Námo raised an eyebrow at his brother’s threatening stance. "Most likely the same way as you did, brother. Now, what are you about? You have Yavanna worried sick."

"Nothing. I... it’s nothing. Just a little project I’m working on. I just didn’t want to be disturbed, is all." His defensive and evasive manner had Námo seriously alarmed. He looked around. They were inside a large cave situated about halfway up Oiolossë, or where that mountain would be in their own dimension. Námo could hear running water somewhere further inside. Without a word, he started towards the back of the cave.

"No!"

Námo turned in surprise and stared at the hand on his shoulder, holding him back. He looked up into Aulë’s eyes and mentally flinched. His brother’s expression could only be called ‘frantic’. "Aulë," he said quietly but with authority, "let me go."

Aulë blinked a couple of times and then glanced down at his arm in surprise. He released Námo, staring at his hand as if he’d never seen it before. Not giving Aulë another chance to stop him, Námo took advantage of the other Ayanuz’s momentary confusion to continue down the passage towards the inner caves. Before he reached where he could hear the water running he came to a chamber that was to his right. Although there was no light here, he could see well enough. Peering in, he gasped in shock.

"Atar help us!" he whispered. "Oh my brother, what have you done?"

*That is what I would like to know, my Child.*

Atar’s words reverberated through the cavern. Námo shuddered slightly and Aulë, who had followed him down the passage went white, reeling with shock and dropping the hammer he still continued to hold. Námo had to grab him to stop him from falling to his knees. Peering back into the cave he saw the seven squat figures had not moved. Were they even alive? he wondered to himself. Then one of them turned its head slightly, looking directly at the Ayanuz.

Well that answers that question, he thought wryly and then turned his attention back to the conversation between Aulë and Atar.

*...beyond thy power and authority?* Atar was saying. *For thou hast from me as a gift thine own being only and no more; and therefore the creatures of thy hand and mind can live only by that being, moving when thou thinkest to move them and if thy thought be elsewhere, standing idle. Is that thy desire?*

Aulë shook his head, gazing longingly into the shadows where his strange creations sat as if made from stone. "I did not desire such lordship, Atar," he said quietly as he entered the cave and knelt before the seven stunted beings, who then gathered around him. He gently stroked the hair of one of them.

"They’re a bit... short and they have no beauty," Námo said in the ensuing silence. "Why did you make them thus?"

Aulë sighed. "I could not see clearly the forms which the Children will take and this was the best I could come up with."

"Ah.... Did it not occur to you, my brother, that the Children will most likely take forms similar to our own? Why else would we incarnate as we do?"

Aulë shrugged. "Truly, it never occurred to me. I just assumed that we would naturally incarnate as we are, not that we did so in imitation of those who have yet to come into existence. Nor does it follow that the Children would of necessity look as we do." He paused, giving his creations a sorrowful look. "Also I wished to make them as impervious to Melkor’s power as possible. Stunted and ugly though they be, they will be strong and unyielding even as are the mountains."

*Yet, even the mountains will eventually wear away,* Atar commented gently. *Why such impatience, Child? You were ever the most stalwart and steadfast of all thy brethren.*

"I so desired the coming of the Children, Atar," Aulë confessed, "and I wished mightily to have learners to whom I could teach my lore and craft. It seemed to me that there was room to spare in this world for all manner of creatures to perceive the beauty of Eä which thou hast caused to be and rejoice in it, yet for the most part Atháraphelun remains empty still and no voices but our own are raised in praise of thee."

Námo sighed and knelt beside his fellow Ayanuz, giving him a hug. "I too am impatient for the coming of the Children," he said quietly, "yet for everything there is a season, Aulë, and the time of the Children has not come. What you have done... it is a mockery...."

"Nay!" Aulë protested, standing and glaring at Námo. "If in my impatience I have fallen into folly, so be it. Yet, the making of things is in my heart from my own making by Atar, and the child of little understanding that makes a play of the deeds of his atar may do so without thought of mockery, but because he is his atar’s son." Tears began to well in his eyes as he knelt once again before his creations, hugging each one lovingly.

"Please be not angry with me, Atar," he pleaded. "I know not what to do to regain thy love. As thy child I offer to thee these things, the work of my hands which thou hast made, as a gift. Do with them what thou wilt."

Silence ensued and Námo wondered that Atar did not respond to Aulë’s offer. Aulë must have had a similar thought for suddenly he rose, his expression bleak with tears streaming down his bearded cheeks, and he took hold of the hammer he had let fall and began to swing it. "But should I not rather destroy the work of my presumption?"

"Aulë, no!" Námo shouted, attempting to forestall his brother’s intent. He grabbed Aulë’s arms and by dint of his own will stayed the execution. "Look! Look at them, my brother. See how they cringe before your wrath and bow to you in supplication. Surely you have not willed them to move or speak so?"

*Nay, he hath not,* came Atar’s calm and loving voice and Námo felt a caress upon his fëa and from Aulë’s expression, he could see that his brother Ayanuz felt it as well. Interestingly enough, the strange creatures also had expressions of awe and peace upon their hairy faces. *Thine offer I accepted even as it was made, my Child,* Atar continued. *Dost thou not see that these things have now a life of their own and speak with their own voices? Else they would not have flinched from thy blow, nor from any command from thy will.*

Aulë stared at the creatures for a moment, dropping his hammer and going to his knees again, opening his arms. Slowly, as if unsure of their welcome, the seven creatures rose to their feet. One of them took a hesitant step forward and when Aulë made no other move than to open his arms wider, it went to its creator and soon all of them were being hugged and kissed by Aulë as Námo and Atar looked on in gentle amusement.

"May Atar bless my work and amend it!" Aulë exclaimed.

Then Atar spoke again. *Even as I gave being to the thoughts of the Ayanumuz at the beginning of Eä, so now I have taken up thy desire and given it a place therein; but in no other way will I amend thy handiwork, and as thou hast made it, so shall it be.*

Námo gave Aulë a wicked smile. "You should have made them taller."

They both heard Atar chuckle, but then his thoughts became more sober as he continued to address them. *But I will not suffer this: that these should come before the Firstborn of my design, nor that thine impatience should be rewarded. They shall sleep now in the darkness under stone, and shall not come forth until the Firstborn have awakened upon Atháraphelun. Until that time, thou and they shall wait, though it seem long. But when the time comes I shall awaken them, and they shall be to thee as children.*

"I thank thee, Atar," Aulë said humbly. "Will they lie here or...."

*Nay, Child,* Atar said gently, *for they no more belong in this dimension than thou dost. Let Námo help thee to lay them to rest in far-sundered places beneath the mountains of the world.*

Aulë nodded and laying a deep sleep upon the creatures, he and Námo took them one at a time, laying them in caverns beneath different mountain ranges of the Outer Lands. The last one Aulë placed beneath what would later be called the Hithaeglir by the Children. He gazed lovingly upon the creature, gently stroking his tangled locks.

"What do you call them?" Námo asked as he joined Aulë.

The other Ayanuz shrugged. "Hadn’t really thought about it. I just called them ‘Híninyar’," he said, casting a shy glance at Námo, who smiled knowingly.

*And thy children they shall be,* Atar assured him, *and often strife shall arise between thine and mine, the children of my adoption and the children of my choice.* Then they felt Atar’s benediction envelop them as He receded from their thoughts.

"How about calling them Fassilië?" Námo said with a wink. "They’re certainly hairy enough."

Aulë suddenly laughed, his fëa restored to humor. "Perhaps the Children will come up with something," he said as they thought themselves back to Amanaphelun.

****

Hithaeglir: (Sindarin) Misty Mountains.

Híninyar: (Quenya) My Children.

Fassilië: (Quenya) ‘People of the shaggy hair’ [fassë: tangled hair, shaggy hair + lië: people].

Author's Note: While the conversation between Aulë and Atar is taken directly from the Silmarillion, Námo's presence is strictly non-canonical.

43: Ents and Eagles

Námo insisted to Aulë that he go to Yavanna and explain everything. Aulë sighed, looking reluctant.

"She’s going to be very angry," he said.

"No doubt," Námo replied, hiding a smile at Aulë’s dejected look.

"Come with me?" the Smith asked, looking hopeful.

"Coward," was Námo’s only reply but he accompanied Aulë to his mansion where Yavanna awaited them.

"Where did you find him?" she asked Námo as they entered the mansion.

"I’ll let Aulë tell you," Námo replied. "I’m just here to lend him moral support."

Yavanna raised an eyebrow at that but decided to ignore Námo for the moment, turning instead to Aulë who stood before her looking very nervous. "All right, Aulë, what have you been up to?" she demanded in a no-nonsense voice. There was actually a rumble of thunder in an otherwise clear blue sky and the ground beneath them trembled slightly. Both Aulë and Námo looked upon the Earth Queen with no little respect.

Aulë cleared his throat and began to explain. Yavanna remained silent throughout the narrative but when Aulë came to the end of his tale, she sighed. "Atar is indeed merciful, my husband, and so I will be as well. I wish you had told me what you were doing sooner, for then your... children would have had something of me in them and they would love the things of my creating. But now..." she shook her head. "They will have little love for the things of my love."

"What do you mean?" Námo asked in curiosity.

Yavanna turned to him. "They will love first the things made of their own hands, as does their atar." She gave Aulë a sad but understanding smile before continuing. "They will delve deep in the earth and the things that grow and live upon the earth they will not heed. I fear that many a tree will feel the bite of their axes."

Aulë put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Yet that is equally true of the Children, both the Firstborn and the Second," he said gently. "They will eat and they will build and though the things which you have made have worth in themselves, and would have worth if no Children were to come, yet Atar will give them stewardship over all and they shall use all that they find in Atháraphelun, though not, by the purpose of Atar, without respect or without gratitude."

"Not unless Melkor darken their hearts," Yavanna retorted sourly, unappeased and sorrowing for what she feared would come of her creating.

Aulë looked at Námo pleadingly, for he did not know how else to comfort his spouse. He was himself very direct and practical. He saw no reason to think of what might be and his heart contained no concept of ‘borrowing trouble’. All would be as it was meant, as far as he was concerned.

Námo looked upon the two with deep sympathy. He could understand Yavanna’s concerns and grieved more that she was grieved rather than for the ultimate fate of her creations. Aulë, in his uncomplicated way, could not really appreciate the depths of pain Yavanna was experiencing just thinking about what might be done upon the Outer Lands in days to come. "Why don’t we go find Manwë and see what he has to say?"

The other two Ayanumuz gave him grateful looks. "That’s a good idea," Aulë said.

Yavanna nodded in agreement. "Where do you suppose he is?" she asked. "He and Varda haven’t been around lately, I noticed."

"Probably taking a well deserved holiday from the rest of us," Námo said with a laugh. "They must get tired of all our antics sometimes."

"Speak for yourself," Aulë retorted with a grin. "Actually, I think they are at Ilmarin overlooking the final details of construction. Shall we?"

The other two nodded and they all thought themselves to the outer courtyard of Ilmarin. It was still empty of decoration, for neither Manwë nor Varda had yet put any thought into how it would look yet. Wandering through the colonnades and squares, they eventually found Manwë sitting alone in a small courtyard where a fountain splashed gaily. He smiled at them as they stopped, afraid of disturbing him.

"Come and sit," he said, gesturing to stone benches that surrounded the fountain. They complied and for a time they all sat in companionable silence, enjoying the peace that radiated all around them. Finally, though, Manwë looked up from his contemplation. "You came here for a purpose." It was not a question.

Aulë nodded but it was Yavanna who spoke. "Aulë was telling me that when the Children come they shall have dominion over all the things of my creating, to do with as they will forthwith. Is that true?"

"Stewardship..." Aulë corrected her, "not dominion."

"Is it not the same thing?" she asked.

"Nay, it is not, as you well know, Yavanna," Manwë answered. "The Children shall be stewards of all that is given them, though I doubt not that Melkor may well corrupt the hearts of some and teach them the fine art of domination." He gave them all a rueful look. "Yet that is not your question is it?"

Yavanna shook her head. "My heart is anxious, thinking of the days to come," she told him. "All my works are dear to me. Is it not enough that Melkor should have marred so many?" She gave them all a bitter look and Aulë hugged her, giving her a kiss on her brow. "Shall nothing that I have devised be free from the dominion of others?" she cried, ignoring her husband’s attempts to comfort her.

"If you had your own will what would you reserve?" Manwë asked unexpectedly. "Of all your realm, what do you hold most dear?"

Yavanna thought for a while before speaking. "All have their worth, and each contributes to the worth of the other. Yet, the kelvar can flee or defend themselves, but the olvar cannot. Of all the olvar that I have brought into being, the trees I hold most dear. Long are they in their growing but swift will be their felling and unless they pay toll with fruit or nut upon the bough little mourned in their passing. So I see in my thought." She paused, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, they were surprised at the fire that burned within them. "Would that the trees might speak on behalf of all things that have roots, and punish those that wrong them!" she hissed fiercely.

"That is a strange thought," Manwë said, looking somewhat disturbed.

Yavanna gave him a measuring look. "Yet it was in the Song," she replied. "While you and Ulmo were Singing of clouds and wind and the pouring out of rain, I lifted the branches of great trees to receive them, and some sang to Atar amid the wind and rain."

Manwë sighed. "You have given me much to think on, sister," he said. "I cannot give you an answer now...."

Námo stood. "Then let us leave you in peace," he said, indicating with his eyes to Aulë and Yavanna that they should stand as well. "We will await your answer to Yavanna’s concerns at the Ezellohar."

"That is well," Manwë said and with a brief bow the other three Ayanumuz faded from view, leaving him alone.

For a while he sat staring at the fountain. Then he spoke a single name and Eönwë appeared, giving his lord a respectful bow. "Eönwë, I do not wish to be disturbed for the nonce. See to it."

"It will be as thou sayest, lord," the Máya said with another bow and with a single gesture, three other Màyar appeared. "The Lord is not to be disturbed. Guard ye the ways into this courtyard."

Each of the other Máyar bowed to both Eönwë (as their captain) and to Manwë (as their lord) and moved purposefully to take their stations, one along each of the four pathways leading into the courtyard with Eönwë taking the main path leading towards the front gates. They stood out of sight of Manwë to provide him with complete privacy.

Meanwhile, the Eldest sat, thinking of all that Yavanna had told him, recalling the Song and trying to hear that part of it that was Yavanna’s to Sing. Slowly, like a flower opening itself one petal at a time, the Song began to rise once more about him until he found himself in its very Center. He then began to heed the many things therein that he had heard but to which he had paid no attention.

Then it seemed to him that the Vision was renewed, yet it was not now remote as it had been in the Timeless Halls, for he was himself within it. He gasped at the enormity of the Whole that was upheld by Atar’s hand, humbled that he had had some small part in its making.

*Not so small, Child,* came Atar’s voice within him. *Thou’rt more than thou knowest and thy powers are greater than thou perceivest.* Then it seemed to Manwë as if Atar’s hand that upheld all entered into the Song itself and from it came forth many wonders that until then had been hidden from him for they were from the hearts of the other Ayanumuz. He finally saw the trees about which Yavanna had spoken and knew something about them that she did not. And he saw something else that set his fëa soaring in awe and delight.

"I thank thee, Atar," he whispered, "for showing me all this. I... I had almost forgotten how very beautiful the Song truly was... is...."

*And ever shall be, best beloved,* Atar said lovingly. *Though thou and thy brethren have striven to recreate its perfection, that can never be nor was it as I intended. Take comfort that though thine efforts fall short of the Vision which thou hast in thy mind, I will always accept thine endeavors and sanctify them. The Vision is just that.... a vision. It is not Reality. What thou makest of the Vision is the true labor which I have given thee and those with thee. Despair not that thou canst never achieve the perfection to which thou strivest. A time will come when I will bring all to perfection and thou shalt see that the flaws in thy designs will make the Vision even more beautiful than thou canst now imagine.*

Manwë bowed his head. "I thank thee again, Atar, for thy forbearance...."

*It is not forbearance, Child,* Atar said with a smile. *It is love....*

Manwë felt Atar’s Presence fading from his conscious mind and he suddenly came to himself. "Eönwë, dismiss thy guards with my thanks," he said even as he rose and thought himself away.

****

"What do you think Manwë will say?" Yavanna asked Námo as they sat under the boughs of the Trees. It was still several hours before the first mingling of the Lights and Ibrínithilpathanezel was still waning while Tulukhedelgorus was just beginning to flower again. Aulë had decided to return to his forge, saying he had been neglecting his other duties lately and needed to speak to his Máyar and apologize to them.

"And I suppose I should choose another Chief Máya," he had said before departing. "I think Auros might do."

Yavanna nodded in agreement. "He is a good choice."

So Aulë left and now it was just Yavanna and Námo awaiting Manwë’s arrival.

Námo shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to answer. "I’m sure whatever he decides will be the fairest decision he can devise. He will have consulted with Atar about this, I am sure."

"Rather, Atar consulted me," Manwë said as he appeared before them, smiling. "Or to be more precise, we consulted each other."

"Stop speaking in riddles, Manwë," Námo said, giving Manwë a smile of his own. "My head is hurting."

Manwë chuckled as he sat with them beneath the Trees. "Atar spoke to me saying, ‘Do then any of my Children suppose I did not hear all the Song, even the least sound of the least voice? Behold! When the Children awake then the thought of Yavanna will awake also, and it will summon spirits from afar, and they will go among the kelvar and the olvar, and some will dwell therein, and be held in reverence, and their just anger shall be feared. For a time: while the Firstborn are in their power and while the Secondborn are young.’"

Yavanna sighed, looking appeased. "Thank you," she said softly.

But Manwë apparently was not finished. "But do you not remember that you sang not always alone? Did not your thought and mine meet also so that we took wing together like great birds that soar above the clouds? That also shall come to be by Atar’s will and before the Children awake there shall go forth with wings like the wind the Eagles of the Lords of the West, or so shall I name them."

Yavanna stood up, a smile wreathing her face as she reached her arms towards the heavens. "High shall climb my trees, that the Eagles of Manwë may house therein!"

But Manwë rose as well. Námo remained seated, amused at the contradictory expressions on his siblings’ faces: Yavanna pleased, and Manwë grave. In fact, Manwë appeared to have grown in stature and majesty and when he spoke it was as if from a great height. Námo shivered slightly, recognizing an echo of Atar’s voice in the Eldest’s words.

"Nay, sister," Manwë said, "only the trees of Aulë will be tall enough. In the mountains the Eagles shall house and hear the voices of those who call upon us. But in the forests shall walk the Shepherds of the Trees."

"Shepherds of the Trees...." Yavanna said with a dreamy smile. "I like the sound of that."

Manwë smiled, seeming to have shrunk to a more normal stature. "It was Atar’s suggestion," he said. "And now, I must leave you. Varda is still not happy with the placement of the conservatory." He gave them both a rueful smile. "I have the feeling that it’s going to end up on a very inaccessible peak before she’s satisfied."

Yavanna and Námo laughed at that as Manwë faded from view. Then Námo turned to Yavanna, giving her a wink. "Let’s tell Aulë his ‘trees’ will someday have occupants."

Yavanna nodded and soon they were fronting Aulë’s smithy where they found him pouring molten metal into a mould. Yavanna gave her husband a rather smug smile. "Atar is bountiful," she said. "Now let your children beware! For there shall walk a power in the forests whose wrath they will arouse at their peril."

Aulë stopped what he was doing and gave them a measuring stare before shrugging. "Nonetheless they will have need of wood," he said, returning to his smith-work.

Yavanna looked to Námo and he reluctantly nodded, knowing full well the truth of Aulë’s words. Yavanna sighed, no longer looking smug.

****

Kelvar: (Quenya) Animals.

Olvar: (Quenya) Plants.

Note: Again, much of the dialogue is taken directly from the Silmarillion, although Námo’s participation in the various conversations is my own invention.

44: The Second Council of Manwë

When Oromë found out about Manwë’s Eagles he was somewhat miffed. “I don’t suppose you could convince Atar to give me a steed upon which I can ride in pursuit of Melkor’s monsters, could you?” he asked.

“A steed?” Manwë gave him an enquiring look.

Oromë nodded. “I have decided I need a better mode of transport than just my legs to go after these creatures. Taking them on foot is proving too difficult and downright dangerous for me and my People when we are in hröa.”

“So what sort of transport are you looking for?” Manwë asked in curiosity.

“Something that runs on four legs and has great endurance and can carry me and my weapons without being weighed down.”

Manwë thought about it for a time. “I do not know....”

“Perhaps thou meanest something like this, lord?”

The two Ayanumuz turned to Naehaerra, one of Oromë’s Máyar who often accompanied his lord on his hunting expeditions. The Máya had a look of deep concentration on his face as his bodily form began to shift until before them stood a four-legged creature, all silvery-white, his chestnut-colored eyes limpid and knowing.

“Yes!” Oromë exclaimed, running a hand over the creature’s flanks. “Truly, Naehaerra, thou hast brought to reality the vision of my need,” he said. Then he turned to Manwë. “Do you think that we can convince Yavanna to bring forth such a creature for me?”

“I do not doubt it,” Manwë said, “but it will be of Eä and therefore it will not live forever. How many of these creatures will you need over the long ages?”

*Thou needest only one, lord,* Naehaerra bespoke them. *I will bear thee where thou wishest to go for to no other would I allow that honor, not even a dumb animal.*

“Surely you do not mean to remain in this form, Naehaerra?” Oromë demanded. “Nor would I willingly treat any of my People as if they were naught but beasts of burden.”

Naehaerra tossed his head, pawing the ground with one of his front hooves which left golden light behind where he struck the earth, and made a strange sound with his voice, yet his thoughts were clear enough. *I find that I like this form better than my previous one. If thou wouldst allow it, lord, I would keep it and think me not as a beast of burden but rather thy boon companion as we hunt together the fell creatures that haunt the Outer Lands still.”

Oromë gave Manwë an enquiring look and when Manwë nodded his permission, he placed his hand upon Naehaerra’s back. “So be it, my friend,” he said solemnly. “Let us hunt together and never be parted.” With that he leapt gracefully upon Naehaerra who gave a whinny of delight and then he was speeding away with Oromë astride him, laughing with joy.

****

Time passed in Eä. The Ayanumuz and the Máyar were content to remain behind their mountain fastness, feeling secure from Melkor’s depredations. Little thought was given to the darkened outer world where Melkor slept not but gathered his strength, calling to him all manner of evils. His most faithful servants of fire and darkness, whom the Children would one day know as ‘valaraucar’, abode with him in his northern fortress, which Melkor called Utumno.

Not far from the northwestern shores of the Sea, Melkor had a second fortress and armory built to resist any assault that might come from Amanaphelun. In ages afterwards that stronghold would be named Angamando and its command was entrusted to Melkor’s newest and most fearsome lieutenant — the Maia Aulendil, who would ever afterward be called Sauron.

And as the dews of Ibrínithilpathanezel and the rains of Tulukhedelgorus continued to be gathered into wells of water and of light by Yavanna’s Máyar, Melkor’s realm spread southward over the rest of Ambarhíni in which shapes of dread haunted the slumbering woods and under the star-strewn stars other, darker perversions walked abroad.

Yet, not all the Ayanumuz had forgotten the outer world....

****

It was the Second Mingling of the Lights and the end of another day for the Ayanumuz. Manwë, Varda and Vána were visiting Námo and Vairë, sitting in a courtyard of their mansion which overlooked the Ezellohar. They were enjoying the sight of the Trees when Aulë appeared, looking troubled.

“Has anyone seen Yavanna?” he asked.

“I haven’t seen her for some time,” Vairë said. The others nodded in agreement.

“Or Oromë for that matter,” Námo chimed in. “He’s not been around lately. Vána was asking for him earlier.” He nodded towards Yavanna’s younger sister.

Aulë stroked his beard. “Hmm...”

“And what does ‘hmm’ mean?” Manwë asked in amusement.

Aulë just shrugged. “It just means ‘hmm’,” he said. “Well, I think I’ll go back to my forge.”

He started to leave but Námo called to him. “Wait! Are you just going to leave it like that? Why were you looking for her anyway?”

Aulë raised an eyebrow. “Do I need a reason to seek out my own spouse?” he asked somewhat haughtily.

Námo blushed. “Sorry. That didn’t come out quite the way I meant. I only wondered if there was something wrong.”

“What’s wrong is that my wife and Vána’s husband are missing and have been for some time,” Aulë retorted. “Don’t you think we should be just a little concerned?”

The others exchanged worried looks and Manwë nodded. “Eönwë,” he called softly and the Máya appeared, giving them a bow. “Go among the Máyar and find out if any of them have spoken to either Lady Yavanna or Lord Oromë recently, then report back to me.”

Eönwë’s expression remained neutral, giving nothing away as to his feelings about his orders. Instead, he bowed once again before fading from view. Aulë nodded in satisfaction. “I’m going back to my forge. Let me know what you find out.” With that he strode away, leaving the others exchanging grim looks.

****

“Anything?” Manwë asked when Eönwë appeared to him some time later.

The Máya shook his head. “Cemendillë and Aiwendil both claim not to have seen Lady Yavanna since five Second Minglings ago. Neither have Lord Oromë’s People seen him, but they assured me that that was not unusual. Lord Oromë often disappears for days at a time.”

“But not for as long as this!” Vána protested. “Always he tells me how long he will be away.”

“What did he tell you this time?” Manwë asked.

“He didn’t,” Vána admitted. “In fact, he simply left without telling me.”

Námo furrowed his brow. “That’s not like him. Did any accompany him?” He asked this last to Eönwë.

“Naehaerra as always,” Eönwë replied with a slight frown. Many of the Máyar were still uncomfortable about their fellow taking on such a shape, yet Naehaerra refused to leave it. “Ulcuroitar went with them it seems, for none have seen him for some time either,” he concluded.

“Where does he go?” Varda asked musingly.

Námo cast her a wry look. “Where do you think, Varda?”

The Queen of Stars grimaced. “The Outer World is under Melkor’s dominion. Whyever would he go there?”

“He does enjoy hunting,” Vána said.

Manwë gave her a shrewd look. “You knew this, that he takes some of his Máyar to hunt the monsters roaming the Outer Lands.”

“Yes, I did,” Vána admitted.

“So this is not the first time he’s disappeared.” Manwë made it a statement and Vána did not bother to answer. Manwë then closed his eyes. “Aulë,” he called softly and almost immediately the Worldsmith was before them. Manwë gave him a discerning look. “This is not the first time Yavanna has gone missing, is it?”

Aulë gave him a shrug. “She’s disappeared for a time or two. I’ve never bothered to ask her where.”

“Why bother now?” Námo asked out of both curiosity and a gnawing suspicion that they were being set up. It was clear to him that both Aulë and Vána were well aware of their respective spouses’ whereabouts. There was more going on than any of them realized. Why would they both suddenly raise an alarm when no alarm had been raised before?

Aulë shrugged and Vána refused to look at any of them. Manwë exchanged a considering look with Varda and then came to a decision. He turned to Aulë and Vána. “You know where they are. Go. Bring them back. I am calling a council to begin at the next First Mingling.”

Manwë’s tone brooked no argument and both Ayanumuz gave him a brief bow of respect before disappearing. The Eldest turned to Eönwë, looking grave. “Go to the other Ayanumuz and tell them that I summon them to a Council at the next First Mingling. Tell Ulmo especially that I will accept no excuse for his not attending.”

Eönwë bowed more deeply than before, then went off to do his lord’s bidding. Námo looked to Manwë and Varda, both of whose expressions were unreadable. “Yavanna and Oromë are up to something.”

Manwë nodded somewhat distractedly, deep in thought. “So it would seem.” Then he came back to himself and rose. The others rose with him. Taking Varda’s hand he nodded to Námo and Vairë. “We will leave you for now. We will meet again in a few hours at the Mahananashkad.” With that he and Varda made their way out of the courtyard to their own mansion.

Vairë turned to Námo. “What do you suppose is going on?”

Námo shrugged. “I think we will find out soon enough.” It was obvious from her expression that Vairë found his answer inadequate, but Námo had no other answer to give.

****

Tulukhedelgorus was coming into full bloom even as Ibrínithilpathanezel was fading when all the Ayanumuz met at the Mahananashkad. It was the first time that they had so met in council there and the solemnity of the occasion was evident to all. The emblems carved in the thrones glowed with preternatural light. Over time all the Ayanumuz had carved a symbol upon the backs of their thrones in imitation of Námo’s sun-in-eclipse carving. Manwë’s now had a bird of prey which he called an Eagle, though it had yet to be brought into being and Varda’s was an eight-pointed star. Ulmo’s was a three-tined staff while Nienna had a fountain carved in the shape of a woman kneeling and weeping. Aulë’s, not surprisingly, was a hammer and anvil, and Yavanna’s was a gourd filled with a profusion of fruits and grains. Irmo’s was a rainbow and its seven colors were formed from other precious stones that were crushed and embedded into the carving. Estë’s symbol was of a musical instrument that Aulë created for her which she called a harp, the playing of which proved very soothing to the fëar of all. Oromë’s emblem was a type of tree, which the Children would one day call an oak, and Vána’s was elanor and niphredil entwined (though these were not the names by which they were originally known to the Ayanumuz). Tulkas had as his emblem a weapon of war and Nessa’s was that of a gentle four-footed animal. Vairë’s symbol was also something Aulë had crafted to her specifications, a device upon which she had begun to weave colored threads together to form beautiful tapestries which were hung within their mansions. The tapestries were mostly depictions of the Ayanumuz and Máyar at work and at play, though more and more seemed to concern themselves with the history of the building of Eä and in particular Atháraphelun. She called the instrument a ‘loom’.

When they were seated Manwë began. “It seemeth that there is something that two among us wish to share with the others.” He cast meaningful looks at Yavanna seated to his right and Oromë to his left. Neither would meet his gaze. “Wouldst thou like to begin, Oromë?”

The future Lord of Forests rose, his expression grim. “I have been ranging throughout the Outer Lands which, in either our cowardice or wariness, we have neglected, much to their detriment.” The baldness of his statement took several of them aback. “Nay, let me speak,” he commanded, raising a hand to still their protest. “Too long have we hidden ourselves behind these mountains. Too long have we spent our days with the concerns of Amanaphelun. But what of the Outer Lands? Soon, as we measure such things, I deem the Children will appear.”

“Yet we know not the hour,” protested Varda.

At that point Yavanna stood. “Atar’s Vision was brief and soon taken away, so that mayhap we cannot guess within a narrow span of days the hour appointed. Yet, be sure of this: the hour approaches and within this age our hope shall be revealed, and the Children shall awake.”

Oromë nodded. “The Outer Lands are drear and full of unclean shadows. We hoard the Light of the Trees unto ourselves and give no thought to what the darkness holds for the Children. Ever I hunt with my Máyar, pursuing to the death the monsters and fell creatures of Melkor’s make.”

“And I,” added Yavanna, her expression wistful, “wander through the Outer Lands to heal what hurts I can, saving what can be saved by setting a deep sleep upon many things that thrived during the flowering of Almaren in hopes that when the time is meet they will awaken once again.”

“The hour of the Children is not yet come,” Estë insisted. “As you said, Yavanna, we know not even the day of their awakening. How then can we plan for their coming if we know not when and Atar will not reveal it to us?”

“Yet, what shall we do?” Yavanna countered. “Shall we then leave the lands of their dwelling desolate and full of evil? Shall they walk in darkness while we have light? Shall they call Melkor lord while Manwë sits upon the borders of Amanaphelun in his high seat of Dáhanigwishtelgun and merely gazes upon the Outer Lands and does nothing?”

Manwë was about to object to Yavanna’s words when Tulkas sprang to his feet, his face infused with an inner fire. “Nay!” he cried. “Let us make war swiftly. Have we not rested from strife overlong, and is not our strength renewed? Shall one alone contest with us forever?”

Manwë raised a hand. “Peace, brother,” he said not unkindly. Then he turned to Námo. “What sayest thou, Námo?”

Námo then rose, his expression distant. “In this age the Children shall come indeed, but they come not yet. Did I not say that it is doom that the Firstborn shall come in the darkness, and shall look first upon the stars? The Light of the Trees we do not deny them out of greed or contempt but because it is as Atar has willed for them and that cannot be gainsaid.” He paused and stared intently at Varda. “Great light shall be for their waning. Ever shall they call unto thee, Varda, at need.”

Varda looked thoughtful. Manwë nodded, gesturing for all to be seated. “Here then is the doom by which we must abide: the Outer Lands shall know only the light of the stars under which the Firstborn shall awake. As for Melkor....” he sighed and looked more sad than grim. “The time for war is not meet. Many of us are still weary from our last battle with him.”

“Weary or just afraid of being burned again?” Tulkas muttered but he did not speak again and Manwë let it go.

“I do not forbid any of you from wandering through the Outer Lands,” he said. “I only ask that you exercise caution.”

“Caution?” Oromë enquired, not sure what the Eldest was getting at.

“He means watch where you tread,” Námo said with a straight face. “We don’t want you  accidently stepping on any of the Children in your haste to pursue Melkor’s get.”

Manwë rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant at all!” he protested, but the others were too busy laughing to pay him any mind.

****

Naehaerra: Nahar. I have assumed that Oromë’s steed must be a Máya who has taken equine form for him to be immortal. We know from the Silmarillion that Arien and Tilion forsook bodily form for the celestial forms that they now have. Elsewhere in Tolkien’s writings we are told that the Valar could take forms other than those imitative of the Children. It seems logical then that the Máyar had a similar talent which they could exercise at will.

Valaraucar: (Quenya) Plural of valarauco (sic): Balrog.

Utumno: (Quenya) Melkor’s first great stronghold in the North. The name appears to mean ‘Deep-hidden’.

Angamando: (Quenya) Angband 'Iron prison'.

Mahananashkad: (Valarin) The Máhanaxar or Doom-Ring.

Note: The Second Council of Manwë occurs 1000 Valian years (9,580 solar years) after the creation of the Two Trees. 28,740 solar years have passed since Tulkas came to Eä. The council debate is taken (more or less) directly from the Silmarillion.

45: The Light Challenges

As the council came to an end, Varda went to Námo. “You spoke of great light being for the waning of the Firstborn,” she said. Námo nodded, feeling suddenly wary, though he could not say why. “What did you mean by that?”

Námo’s demeanor became distant, even cold, and his expression hardened. “My meaning will become clear enough in time, Varda. To say more than I have is to change what must be. I say only what I am bid by Atar and no more.”

The Queen of Stars looked troubled and frustrated at the same time. “You really enjoy acting mysterious, don’t you?” she hissed, her eyes flashing with anger. “Why must you always speak in riddles?” Without giving him time to answer she turned and strode away.

Námo stared at her retreating back in surprise, feeling somewhat hurt. Vairë came to him, putting a comforting hand on his arm. “She did not mean it, beloved,” she said gently. “Varda is just... upset by the news that Yavanna and Oromë have brought us.”

“I do not speak in riddles,” he insisted, then gave Vairë a troubled look of his own. “Do I?”

Vairë smiled, her eyes glinting with hidden mischief. “Oh... no more so than the next male of the species,” she said slyly.

Námo raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

But Vairë only giggled and refused to answer, leaving Námo feeling even more confused than before.

****

For a time no one saw Varda. Not even Manwë knew where she was or, if he did, he would not say. “She’s pondering the import of all that we have learned of late,” he told anyone who inquired. Some of the Máyar, though, mentioned seeing her standing upon the highest horn of Dáhanigwishtelgun, staring out into the darkness of the Outer Lands.

Then, she was seen consulting with Yavanna and spending much time near the Trees, though she actually paid little attention to them. Her main focus of interest was the great wells of silver light into which was gathered the dews of Ibrínithilpathanezel. There was much speculation among the other Ayanumuz as to why, some more absurd than others. Tulkas’ explanation that she was probably deciding how easy it would be to haul some of that liquid light up to Ilmarin for a bath had them rolling on the ground in laughter.

When she started consulting with Vána, their curiosity was heightened, but Vána refused to say what they had been discussing. “You’ll find out soon enough,” she said with a mysterious smile, enjoying being the center of attention for a change. The others accepted her dismissal with good grace but Oromë kept trying to wheedle the answer out of her until she ended up throwing him out of their mansion with orders to “Go hunt something”. Furious and embarrassed at the same time, he called to Naehaerra and the two of them were seen heading north. He did not return until nearly a year later.

Meanwhile, Varda began a great labor, perhaps the greatest of the works of the Ayanumuz since their coming into Eä. She took the silver dews from the wells of Ibrínithilpathanezel, and began Singing new stars into creation, setting them in the heavens and gathering together the ancient stars in new patterns that could be seen from Atháraphelun. In later ages, the Firstborn would name some of them: Anarríma, Soronúmë , Telumendil, and Wilwarin. Others she created as well and used some of the light of the elder Tree to increase the albedo of the planets so they could be better seen from Ambarhíni.

Two constellations she made with Vána’s help and they were a wonder for all to see. One would someday be called Menelmacar with his shining belt, striding across the heavens with his faithful hound behind him, the blue fire of Helluin that was the hound’s eye flickering in the mists above the borders of the world. And high in the north as a special challenge to Melkor she set the crown of seven great stars to swing, Valacirca, the great Sickle of the Valar and a sign of doom.

Far off in the barren wastelands where Melkor hid, the Fallen One saw the new stars and the figures they formed and pondered.

****

Long did Varda labor to bring these new stars into being and often the other Ayanumuz (and many of the Máyar) ceased their work and play and made their way to the eastern shores of Amanaphelun where the Light of the Trees could not be seen and spent some time gazing up in wonder at the new lights, exclaiming in delight when another bloomed into existence, and deciding what names to give the new constellations. It was during that time that Varda began to wear a crown of living stars in her hair. No one said anything about it, but their respect for her only grew.

At one point she came to Námo who with Vairë was lying on the strand gazing up at the heavens  and watching Menelmacar ride the heavens, slipping toward the horizon. She had a triumphant look on her face. “Do you approve?” she asked.

Námo gave her a surprised look. “You neither need nor want my approval, Varda, so why do you ask?”

She knelt in the sand beside them, gazing pensively at her creations. “These are not the great lights about which you spoke, are they?”

“No, Varda, they are not,” Námo said with a shake of his head, “but they are quite beautiful and you should be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

The Kindler of Stars turned her gaze upon the Doomsman of Arda, her expression more troubled. “I... I will not have anything to do with creating the great lights, will I?”

When Námo did not reply immediately she made to rise but he stayed her with a hand on her arm. She refused to look at either of them. “Varda, what you ask... I cannot tell you, for I truly do not know, but in my heart I think that what you fear is true. Yet, it may be that it will take all of us working together to bring forth these great lights.”

Varda nodded, her expression still pensive but less troubled. She turned her gaze upon them and a slow smile graced her visage. “So... do you think Melkor likes what I did with the stars?”

Námo smiled as Vairë sniggered. “Not likely,” he said.

Varda’s expression turned triumphant once again. “Good!”

To that both Námo and Vairë agreed.

****

Sometime afterwards, several of the Máyar, including Melyanna, expressed a desire to walk in the Outer Lands. This surprised the Ayanumuz and not a few were troubled, but Námo gave his permission to those few of his own People who desired to leave Amanaphelun.

“I sorrow that you would leave us thus,” he told them, “but I understand your need. Tread carefully, my children, for Melkor hides without and his People are still a present danger to you. Yet, if ever need drives you, call out and I will come.”

The Máyar bowed deeply to their lord, grateful for his understanding and his blessing. While some set out with obvious reluctance, none of them looked back.

“If they are hesitant, why do they not stay?” Vairë asked.

Námo shook his head. “They are called to another destiny than remaining here in Amanaphelun. Some will embrace that destiny eagerly, others less so, yet all will go, for something within them drives them.”

“Something... or Someone?” Vairë ventured, casting a shrewd look at her beloved.

Námo nodded. “So I suspect, which is why I did not forbid their going.”

When the other Ayanumuz heard of Námo releasing those of his People desiring to leave Amanaphelun, they gave their own permission. There was much sadness at the departure, but they knew it was not permanent and all were but a thought away. Yet, for some time afterwards, those who remained behind were less cheerful and their songs were fewer.

****

Finally, Varda was satisfied with all her labor and asked Manwë if a feast in honor of it could be held. Manwë had no objections, and so a time came when the Ayanumuz and the Máyar gathered on a white sand beach on the western shore of Amanaphelun and made merry under the glittering stars shining defiantly against the corrupting darkness of the Fallen One, an unclean darkness that threatened all of Atháraphelun. They sang and danced under the canopy of stars, greeting each new constellation as it rose out of the sea. Long did they celebrate, eating and drinking and frolicking in the sea surf. Some even thought themselves to other parts of the planet to see what the constellations looked like from different locales.

Námo and Vairë disappeared for a time and no one knew where they went. They found for themselves a small island beyond the western shores of Amanaphelun where they sat on the beach and watched the stars in their stately pavane.

“Look!” Vairë exclaimed. “Menelmacar rises.”

Námo nodded, looking northward. “Varda was wise to make the Sickle circumpolar. It will never set and Melkor will be forced to see it always.”

“She’s devious when she wants to be,” Vairë said, lying on her back. “She has not forgotten what Melkor did to some of her stars and this I think is a sign to him, a warning, if you will, that he can never fully win against us.”

Námo brushed a hand through her dark hair as he sat beside her. “I think you are correct, my love,” he said. “This is Varda’s act of defiance against our Fallen Brother.”

For a time they remained silent with Vairë staring at the heavens while Námo gazed adoringly at his beloved, slowly caressing her hair. The only sound was the shur-shush of the surf as it hit the beach. Then, Námo came to a decision. It was not a sudden one, but blossomed forth from deep within him. It was a decision he always knew he would make, just never when. Now, though, seemed the right time.

He bent over Vairë and planted a gentle kiss on her brow, then slowly made his way down her face, kissing first her eyelids and then her right cheek until he found her mouth. She accepted his advances eagerly and her kisses became as fervent as his until by mutual consent they both stopped, breathless with delight. Námo smiled down at Vairë, who smiled back.

“Shall we offer Melkor our own brand of defiance?” he whispered. “Shall we take back what he stole from us?”

“What did he steal from us?” Vairë whispered, though she knew full well what it was; she simply wanted to hear Námo speak of it aloud, confirming her own feelings.

“Our innocence,” came the reply.

“We can never regain that,” Vairë said emphatically.

Námo nodded. “But we can accept the loss and move forward. In doing so we show that in the end Melkor did not win, can never win.”

“So, how do we move on?” Vairë asked after a brief silence ensued.

Now Námo hesitated for a second or two, knowing that the next step was irrevocable, but also recognizing its rightness in the greater scheme of things. The two of them had been reaching towards this moment since before they ever left the Timeless Halls, though neither had realized it at the time. He leaned over and kissed Vairë again on the lips, then sat back, his demeanor more grave. “Vairë, heart of my heart, wilt thou cleave unto me for all the ages of Eä and beyond?”

Vairë gave him a brilliant smile. “Yes, beloved, I will.”

Námo’s own bearing became less grave and he smiled back. Then, suddenly he leapt to his feet, flinging his arms out in triumph and giving a crow of delight. “She said yes, Atar!” he cried. He then reached down to pull Vairë up and began twirling her around in an impromptu dance.

Vairë’s laughter was echoed from the Timeless Halls as she and Námo continued to dance in breathless delight.

****

Helluin: The star Sirius found in the constellation of Canis Major.

Note: According to Tolkien, Varda spent fifty Valian years (479 solar years) rearranging the universe to suit herself. At the end of that time it is said that Melian (and perhaps other Maiar as well) departed Valinor for Middle-earth.

Names of the constellations mentioned. While most are identified some are only tentatively so.

Anarríma: ?‘Sun-border’.

Menelmacar: ‘Swordsman of the Heavens’; Orion. The older name, Telumehtar, with the same meaning, is mentioned in Appendix E.

Soronúmë: ?‘Eagle Descending’ (literally, ‘going down’) or ‘Large Eagle’; perhaps Aquila.

Telumendil: ‘Sky-friend’; perhaps Perseus.

Valacirca: ‘Sickle of the Valar’; Ursa Major.

Wilwarin: ‘Butterfly’; Cassiopeia.

46: Yána Elenion

It was some time before either Námo or Vairë calmed down long enough to think themselves back to Amanaphelun where the celebration still continued. Their arrival was noted but not deemed important until their very stillness as they stood side-by-side and hand-in-hand began to impinge on everyone else’s awareness. Slowly the singing and dancing ceased as the other Ayanumuz stared at the couple. Before either could say a word, Oromë gave a whoop of joy.

“She said yes, didn’t she?” he cried to Námo, grinning from ear to ear.

Námo gave Vairë a quick, shy look then turned to the others and nodded. Immediately, there were glad cries of congratulations and Námo’s Máyar joined with Vairë’s in a paean of joy and thanksgiving.

“Will you espouse now?” Manwë asked.

Námo and Vairë exchanged glances and then as one turned to Manwë, shaking their heads. “The time is not yet,” Námo said, “but soon.”

Manwë nodded. “When you are ready, let us know.”

With that the celebration rose to a new level and it was some time before it ended.

****

The construction of Ilmarin was finally completed except for a few minor details. It was the largest of all their works in Amanaphelun, for the People of Manwë and Varda were the most numerous of the Máyar who had followed the Ayanumuz to Eä. In later ages, the Firstborn would gaze upon Ilmarin with awe but to the Ayanumuz and Máyar it was merely a larger version of the mansion that sat in the plain to the southwest of the mountains.

Manwë was wandering through the halls alone sometime after the feast celebrating Varda’s new stars, his direction somewhat aimless as he thought on many things, not the least being the Coming of the Firstborn. He did not know when or even where that would happen, but he sensed it was soon as the Ayanumuz measured such things. His feelings were mixed about the approaching event. On the one hand, it had been the very thing for which they had all striven. He remembered how he had fallen in love with the Vision and all it held and how the desire to be here when the Children awoke had been the driving force of his decision to forsake the Timeless Halls for Eä.

On the other hand... he paused in his steps, his expression troubled. “I do not think I can be what you want me to be, Atar,” he said aloud. “I fear I am not up to the task.”

A gentle breeze wafted through the corridor, its alabaster walls gleaming with an inner light of their own. The breeze smelled oddly of the sea though he doubted that Ulmo was responsible. He felt a renewing of his spirit as he breathed in the fresh scent of brine, yet his doubts still remained. He had never told anyone, not even Varda, but in all the ages since coming into Eä he had felt a lack within himself. He did not understand it and it was some time before he came to realize that his sense of incompleteness lay in the estrangement between him and his brother Melkor. He sighed, remembering how the two of them had played together in their youth. He remembered their games and their laughter, but as they matured, Melkor had begun to drift away and Manwë had never fully understood why, believing that perhaps it was somehow his fault that his brother had turned against them all.

*Nay, My best beloved,* came Atar’s loving thought. *It was nothing thou didst. Thou art not to blame for thy brother’s choices.*

“I miss him,” Manwë admitted. “I miss him and I love him. Why can he not return my love?”

He felt a gentle caress and it was as a balm to his fëa. *Thy brother can not love any but himself, and I fear in time he will not be able to do even that much.*

The sorrow of that thought was nearly overwhelming and Manwë felt tears welling. “I need him, Atar,” he said forlornly. “He is my other half. Together we were strong, but I am not strong alone.”

“Thou art stronger than thou thinkest, Child,* Atar said. *Come. I wish for thee to build me a room.*

Manwë blinked in confusion at the seemingly sudden change of subject. “Wh-what room, Atar? Ilmarin is completed. What other room doth it need?”

He felt the smile in Atar’s thoughts. *It needeth one more, a very special room that thou alone wilt bring into existence.*

“If that be thy will, Atar,” Manwë said somewhat doubtfully. It never occurred to him to question the necessity of this mysterious room, though he wondered to himself why Atar had waited until now to mention it. If I have to move the conservatory one more time to fit this room of Atar’s in, he thought darkly to himself, I think I’ll scream.

A quiet chuckle in his mind alerted him to the fact that even his deepest thoughts were opened to Atar and he felt himself blush for no particular reason. “Sorry, Atar,” he said. “Varda sometimes gets obsessive about rearranging things to suit herself.”

*Thou dost not have to apologize, My son,* Atar said lovingly. *I know well the strengths and weaknesses of all My children.*

Manwë nodded, then sighed. “For what purpose will this room exist?”

*It will be a place of refuge for thee and thy brethren, where any who enter will find renewing of their fëa. It will also be the place where I may commune more directly with you all. It may come to pass that even some of the Firstborn will have a need for this room, though it will be thy decision to allow it.*

“Can we not simply address thee directly, Atar?” Manwë asked in some confusion. After all, what need had he for a special room to speak to his Atar?

*As the ages of Atháraphelun wear on, thou mayest be glad for this sanctuary of mine,* Atar explained.

“Very well,” Manwë said. “Where then should we put it?” He drew up in his mind the plan for Ilmarin, trying to see if any of the rooms already in existence might serve the purpose Atar had stated.

*No room already built will serve, Manwë,* Atar told him. *This room thou alone shalt create. It will have no existence in this dimension, but will reside elsewhere or even elsewhen when there is no need for it, the decision is thine alone.*

“It will still need a physical anchor in this dimension, though,” Manwë pointed out, “else there will be no way to keep it here.”

*True,* Atar agreed. “Which means thou must construct the anchor but not make it too obvious.*

Manwë thought about it as he continued roaming the halls. He happened to be facing the outer courtyard at one point in his wanderings and saw the statue of Varda. It was nearly completed save for one detail. He smiled as an idea occurred to him. Varda was the anchor of his life, the one thing that gave it meaning beyond himself. Why not use this statue of his beloved as the anchor for the sanctuary Atar wanted built? There was a certain symmetry to it all that pleased him. He watched as Ilmarë set in place the diamond that would float between the statue’s outstretched hands, representing a star, and decided that would do but he would have to alter its molecular structure slightly to turn it into an effective anchor.

Sending a thought to Ilmarë and the other Máyar who were working in the courtyard to leave, which they did with alacrity, he approached the statue and gazed on it for a long time. “It might work better if it were a black hole,” he thought out loud.

*Better, but infinitely more dangerous,* came Atar’s amused reply. *I’m sure thou wilt figure it out.*

“Thou’rt a great help, Atar,” Manwë said with a smile.

*I try,* Atar said laughingly and then Manwë felt him withdrawing to leave him to his own thoughts.

The mathematics of what he wanted to do was not difficult and in fact he realized that he had no need to call upon anyone else for help. The changing of the diamond into a miniature pulsar and creating the room to Atar’s specification (the dimensions and details of architecture were already firmly planted in his mind) were all within his powers to effect.

He closed his eyes to better concentrate and after taking a deep breath he began to Sing....

****

Námo found himself wandering through Amanaphelun. He had felt a sudden need to leave the city and go exploring. Choosing a direction at random he walked across fields and through forests until he came upon a range of low hills southwest of where Irmo and Estë had grown their Gardens of Repose. Somewhere northwest of these hills lay Nienna’s sanctuary, hard against the western ocean. Making his way through the hills he came upon a mist-shrouded valley where a stupendously high waterfall cascaded down into a pool. It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight and Námo suspected that Ulmo and Manwë had joined together in creating it.

*They’ve named it the Veil of Tears,* came Atar’s voice in his mind.

“It’s beautiful,” Námo said sincerely. A soft caress ruffled his blue-black hair and Námo smiled in contentment.

*Come and walk with Me,* Atar said then.

“Where shall we go?” the Ayanuz asked in curiosity.

*Follow the stream,* came the answer and Námo did just that.

Soon he was walking out of the hills into a more open place that looked westward towards the ocean. It was rather barren looking but it was not empty. Nermir flitted amongst the wildflowers that dotted the landscape and some of the gentle four-footed animals that Yavanna had created and which ranged in herds grazed contentedly, unafraid of the intruder in their midst. They were mostly brown in coloring and their tails were tufts of white. Námo smiled at the idyllic scene as he strolled through the meadows. The nermir especially delighted him and he reminded himself to thank Yavanna for finally bringing them into existence. He noticed that they were all gathered in one area where a single fold of the earth obstructed his view.

*There,* came Atar’s voice, startling Námo, for he had forgotten that Atar was with him.

“There where?” Námo asked in confusion. Then he felt a nudge in his back and turned in surprise to see one of the creatures that had been grazing standing behind him. “Hello,” he said, smiling. “Dost thou want something?”

The creature made no sound but butted its head against Námo’s chest, stepping forward at the same time so the Ayanuz was forced to step back. Námo’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Honestly, Atar, you only had to tell me to move. There was no need to bring in reinforcements.”

Atar’s laughter rang through the cosmos at his Child’s put upon expression. Námo patted the insistent creature who was still butting him. “All right, all right. I’m moving,” Námo said to the creature. “Seest thou how I put one foot before the other? Now go back to thy fellows and leave me be.”

The creature stood for a moment as if gauging the sincerity of this two-legged being and then with a flit of its tail it turned and gamboled back to the rest of the herd. Námo couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. He was still smiling as he made his way towards the nermir still flitting about. He found himself coming towards a gentle rise in the landscape, a swell of earth that could not properly be called a hill. Its lower end faced east with the higher parts moving westward towards the sea. The nermir were dancing about the lower edge.

“So what’s so special about this place?” he asked in confusion.

*This is where you shall build your Halls,* Atar replied. Námo shook his head, clearly not understanding what was being said. *This is where the Secondborn shall come when their time in Eä concludes,* Atar continued to explain, *and from here thou shalt send them to Me.*

“So what am I supposed to do?” Námo insisted. He could not quite understand what Atar wished of him though he was getting an inkling. He knew that the Secondborn would not reside in the World for all its ages, unlike the Firstborn. Escorting them beyond the Circles of the World would be a grave responsibility indeed, yet also a cause for great joy.

*Build thou a Hall,* came the less than illuminating answer, *and I will lead them to thee.*

“Any suggestions?” Námo asked somewhat sarcastically.

He felt Atar’s indulgent smile. *I am sure thou wilt think of something,* Atar said and then he was gone.

Námo sighed and then sat before the rise of earth in contemplation. He remembered his home in Almaren and wondered if that had been ‘practice’ for this. Finally he shrugged and stood, settling within his mind what he wanted to do and then he began to Sing....

****

When Manwë finished creating Atar’s room, as he thought of it, he called the other Ayanumuz to him. Last to arrive was Námo, looking unaccountably tired. They were standing about the statue of Varda, gazing at it with great interest.

“It was just supposed to be a diamond,” Varda said, staring at the miniature pulsating star that now floated between the hands of the statue. “Nothing quite as ostentatious as this.”

Manwë smiled and gathered his beloved in his arms, giving her a kiss. “I needed an anchor and the diamond wasn’t enough.”

“An anchor for what?” Varda asked.

“Follow me,” Manwë replied and he led the others into Ilmarin, up several staircases and down more than one hall until they came to a door made of mithril. It had no handle. At its center was etched an eight-pointed star inlaid with diamonds. A multi-faceted sapphire was embedded in the center of the star and water poured out of it into a basin shaped like a scallop-shell.

Manwë dipped his hand in the water and drank and each of the others did the same. Only when Námo, who was the last to taste the water, drank did the door silently open. They stepped inside a small vestibule in which was a sunken pool. A wooden screen carved with their likenesses separated the vestibule from what was clearly the main part of the room. The central panel had a carved Sun-in-glory made of beaten gold.

Manwë again led the way by stepping into the pool and immersing himself fully before stepping out again. The others followed and when Námo, who again was last, stepped out the central panel opened, allowing them entrance. The room was rather bare of any ornamentation. Only the floor was covered with a soft carpet.

“I was thinking perhaps one of Vairë’s tapestries could go here,” Manwë said, pointing to the wall opposite the screen.

Vairë nodded, her eyes gleaming with delight at the challenge.

“So why exactly has this room been created?” Varda asked her spouse.

Manwë smiled with secret pleasure. “Look up,” he said and they did.

Námo felt himself reeling at the sight. He could not understand the emotions that ran through him at that moment. He had only just finished creating his Hall when Manwë had summoned them. He had felt elated, if tired, by his efforts. He now had a purpose beyond being the harbinger of Doom. The Secondborn would be his charge and he was looking forward to tending to them and comforting them, for he had no doubt that they would be grieved at their leaving Atháraphelun. He hoped he would be able to reassure them that all would be well with them. It was an awesome responsibility and so he had taken great pains to make the Hall as beautiful as possible.

But now... He looked up at the immensity of the ceiling and the utter beauty of what Manwë had wrought and compared it to his own efforts and felt... shamed. He had been thinking of showing off his handiwork to the others but now knew he would never do so. It would be too embarrassing after this. He began backing up, a need to leave overwhelming him. None of the others seemed to notice, so enthralled were they by the ceiling.

*No, Child,* Atar said to him quietly yet firmly, stopping him in his tracks. *Thou hast no need to feel shamed at thine efforts.*

*But, Atar, it’s... I tried to make it as beautiful as possible but...* He shook his head not sure how to explain the sense of inadequacy he felt at that moment. He had no doubt that his brethren would be very polite and tell him he’d made a lovely go at it, but they would be comparing his efforts to Manwë’s and it would be obvious to everyone that Manwë was the better Singer.

*That may be true, Child,* Atar said, divining his last thought, *but not the whole truth. Thou didst create a wondrous place of rest and beauty and I am well pleased with it and with thee. What matters the opinions of others?*

But it did matter, it mattered greatly. He knew he was the least of the Ayanumuz, barely tolerated by the others. Were not the Máyar who cleaved to him fewer than those who took oath elsewhere? Were they not the weakest of them, accepting his lordship because no one else wanted them? He saw the looks of disbelief when he spoke of his visions, though they had all learned to accept them, however grudgingly. He always cringed a bit whenever he had to speak them, knowing that they would most likely be resented. He felt a soft caress across his brow, a balm to his fëa, but he still was not happy.

“Námo, why don’t you come and join us?”

He opened eyes that had been closed while communing with Atar to see Manwë standing next to him, a concerned look on his face. Námo could only stand there, shaking his head and started to back away but Manwë forestalled his flight by taking him into his embrace and holding him.

“What is it, brother?” he whispered. “What troubles thee?”

“I... I thought it was... beautiful until I saw what... what thou hast done,” Námo stammered.

“Thought what was beautiful?” Manwë asked, keeping the younger Ayanuz in his embrace.

Námo, however, would not or could not answer. He did not try to leave Manwë’s embrace, but neither did he accept the comfort being offered. He was too heart-sore. Manwë sent a plea to Atar for understanding but got no help there. Apparently, whatever troubled Námo was to be dealt with without Atar’s assistance.

“Show me,” he finally said. “I will judge if it is fair or not.”

Námo shook his head. “You’ll be polite about it but....”

“Indeed?” Manwë interrupted, sounding amused and exasperated at the same time. “Well, would it help if I promise not to be polite? Now, enough stalling. Show me.”

The last was obviously a command and Námo knew he could not disobey. Cringing slightly at having to show Manwë his feeble efforts he gave the Eldest the necessary coordinates and they were instantly away.

****

Yána Elenion: ‘The Chapel of Stars’.

Note: A full description of the Chapel of Stars can be found in Elf, Interrupted: Book Two: Glorfindel’s Quest, chapter 11.

47: Brothers’ Keepers

Námo entered the Chapel of Stars some hours later. He gazed up at the star-strewn ceiling and sighed. Before entering the Chapel the first time he had been feeling elated at the thought of his recent endeavors. He couldn’t wait to show his new Halls off to the others, Vairë and Oromë especially.

But then he had come in here and looked up even as he was doing now and despaired. How could what he had done ever compete with the beauty of this? It almost seemed unfair that Atar should have had both him and Manwë create something at the same time. None could possibly help but compare this room with his Halls and find them wanting in both grace and beauty.

“I wanted everything to be so beautiful, Atar,” he whispered forlornly into the darkness of the Chapel, “but I failed utterly.”

“That’s not true you know.” Námo turned to see Manwë standing at the doorway. “We all thought your Halls quite beautiful.”

“They were just being polite,” Námo retorted. “As were you.”

Manwë raised an eyebrow at that as he entered the Chapel more fully. “Are you so sure, Námo? That is not how I remember it.”

Námo shrugged. “Then I guess we remember it differently....”

****

Námo and Manwë stood before a doorway set in the side of a small hill. It was made of fragrant nessamelda wood, richly carved with animal figures and plants. It swung open at a silent command from Námo.

Inside was a large round hall with several arches through which could be seen other rooms and corridors. In the center of the hall was a fountain tinkling gaily. Manwë smiled at the statue that graced the center of the fountain: Námo with one of his precious nermir in the palm of an outstretched hand. The nermi was not made from the grey stone of the fountain but from different gems in imitation of the living creature. In spite of the fact that there were no windows, the place was well-lit and airy. It was hard to believe that they were standing inside a mound of dirt.

Manwë turned to Námo, his eyes bright with delight. “Why, this is wonderful!” he exclaimed. “And no, I am not just being polite,” he added. “This is truly lovely. But what is it for? Who is it for?”

“The Secondborn,” Námo answered, not quite believing Manwë’s words. “When their lives in Eä are completed, they will come here for a time before returning to Atar.”

Manwë gave him a measured look. “And Atar had you build this now?”

Námo nodded. “I thought it odd, too, seeing as how they will not appear for some time yet. We don’t even know when the Firstborn will awake.”

Manwë nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself. “How will you send them on?” he asked.

“Come. I will show you,” Námo replied and led him through one of the arches down a dimly lit corridor until they reached another wooden door, this one bare of any design. Námo gave Manwë an apologetic look. “I didn’t have time to do anything fancier.”

“That’s all right,” Manwë said. “You’ll have time later for that.”

The door opened of itself and Námo gestured for Manwë to enter. Inside, Manwë found himself in a grotto through which a river ran, disappearing into stygian gloom. There was a dock to which was tied a boat shaped like a swan, one of Yavanna’s more exquisite creations. In spite of the dimness of the grotto, the boat shone with an inner light of its own.

“The river is really a dimensional conduit, allowing the Secondborn to leave Eä, though none of us would be able to use it,” Námo explained.

“Nor would we want to,” Manwë countered. “I like the boat. It’s a nice touch.”

The two of them stood there for a moment in silence and then Manwë smiled at Námo. “Well, let’s go back to the main hall. I’ve noticed the walls are rather bare but perhaps Vairë can put up some of her tapestries to give the place more color.”

“I... well, I thought that the fewer distractions there were the easier it would be for the Children to come to terms with their lives,” Námo said, sounding both apologetic and defensive at the same time.

Manwë simply nodded as they retraced their steps. “That makes sense. I suspect that for most leaving Eä will be hard.”

As they entered the main hall again, Námo stopped in shock. The place was filled with the other Ayanumuz gazing about and attempting to guess at the purpose for it. Námo turned to Manwë in dismay to find the Eldest smiling sympathetically. “I thought they should see and judge for themselves whether this is a beautiful place or not.”

Before Námo could reply the others noticed them and gathered around. Varda gave Námo a brief smile but did not speak. Oromë glanced at Manwë and then gave Námo a shrewd look when he noticed his wary expression. “Your doing, is it?” he asked, casting his eyes about to encompass the hall. Námo only nodded.

“It’s beautiful,” Vairë said and several heads nodded.

“Not as beautiful as Manwë’s Chapel,” Námo insisted.

“Of course it is,” came the surprising reply from Nessa.

“But it’s so plain and ordinary looking next to what Manwë wrought,” Námo protested.

Several of them shrugged. “Plain is good,” Tulkas replied, “and there is nothing wrong with ordinary. Much of life is both.”

“Why did you create this place?” Ulmo asked.

Námo explained and there was silence between them at the implications of what he had told them. Finally, Varda spoke. “Did you create this place for love of the Children who will someday come here?”

Námo nodded. “And for love of Atar,” he added shyly, not quite meeting the Star-Queen’s gaze.

Varda reached over and lifted his chin so he had to look at her. She smiled. “For those very reasons, Námo, this place is beautiful.”

“You might want to know,” Manwë interjected, “that the Chapel is not of my own design but rather it was given to me by Atar. All I did was call it into existence. This place, however, is from your own mind, is it not?”

“Yes,” Námo admitted. “I asked Atar what I should do but he told me I would figure it out for myself.”

“And for that reason, your efforts are greater than mine,” Manwë concluded. “You brought all this into existence from your own thoughts, from the depths of your own heart and soul. That shows great power and it was masterfully done. I think this is a wonderful place and the Secondborn should find great peace and solace here before moving on. Well done, brother!”

There was general approbation all around as the other Ayanumuz offered their own congratulations to Námo and they insisted he give them all a guided tour. They were especially enthralled by the swan boat and thought the entire layout of the halls both economical and beautiful. Námo still wasn’t convinced of their sincerity, but accepted their praises gracefully enough.

As they were leaving to return to Ilmarin, Oromë asked Námo what he was going to call the place.

“I’m not sure yet,” he replied. “Any suggestions?”

“Hmm... how about ‘Námo’s Hideaway from Vairë’?” Tulkas offered with a wink. Vairë glared at him but the others, except Námo, laughed.

“Perhaps it should be the other way around,” Manwë suggested and now it was Námo’s turn to glare. The laughter just got louder as they took turns coming up with other suggestions, some sillier than others. By the time they reached Ilmarin even Námo was laughing....

****

“Your brethren rejoice in all that you do, Námo,” Manwë said as the two stood under the canopy of stars in the Chapel. “Unlike Melkor, we are incapable of lying. Your Halls are truly beautiful and I have no doubt that they will grow more beautiful as the ages pass, whereas this Chapel will never change. It will always be as you see it, though I think I might add some candlelight and Vairë has promised me one of her tapestries. Yet, beyond that, all will be as you see it now. On the other hand, I think as the ages progress your Halls will be enlarged and embellished until they are truly works of art. You have nothing to be ashamed of, brother. You are greater and more powerful than you know.”

Námo sighed. “I always thought I was the least of you, my... so-called talents of little use to anyone. Sometimes I wonder why I ever came to Eä.”

“It is true that your visions can be... uncanny at times,” Manwë allowed, “but that is just part of who you are and we have come to accept it. Also, do you seriously think someone like Vairë would agree to espouse you if she thought you were less than you truly are? She’s more discerning than that.”

“Melkor said....”

“Melkor has said many things,” Manwë retorted coldly and Námo caught a glimpse of his elder brother’s hidden pain when their eyes met, though the contact lasted only a few seconds.

“Would you care to talk about it?” he quietly asked after a brief silence.

Now Manwë sighed and for a long moment did not answer but simply gazed upward at the stars. Finally, he looked down and gave Námo a nod. “Perhaps I should.” He paused for a moment and Námo waited patiently, never moving. “I sometimes envy you, you know, you and Irmo,” Manwë suddenly said.

Námo felt a shock at those words. “Why would...?”

“You have what I lost,” Manwë answered, “a brother who loves you.”

Námo did not speak, but indicated with a gesture that Manwë should continue. “You’re too young I think to remember Melkor before he became secretive and moody,” Manwë said. “He and I....” but he found he could not complete the thought.

“I remember,” Námo said quietly, dredging up memories of an earlier time that was before Time when he had indeed been young and innocent. “Melkor used to tease Varda and made sure you got the blame for it.” He gave Manwë a sly smile and the Eldest chuckled.

“She was a force to be reckoned with even then,” he commented.

Námo nodded. “I was terrified of her,” he confessed, “and Irmo! Every time Varda even looked his way he went running to Atar.” He gave a light laugh. “We could never understand how Nienna could be her friend.”

Manwë smiled but he eyed the younger Ayanuz shrewdly. “Did Melkor terrify you back then as well?” he asked.

Námo went still at the question and he dropped his eyes, unable to meet Manwë’s gaze. “Sometimes,” he finally admitted, speaking softly. “He found me once when I was wandering through the Void alone....” He closed his eyes as a shudder ran through him. “I made sure that I was never alone after that.”

“What did he do?” Manwë demanded hoarsely, a sense of horror rising within him.

Námo opened his eyes and shrugged. “Nothing really. It’s what he said that frightened me. I think even then, before ever the first note of the Ainulindalë was Sung, he tried to... to seduce me to his side.”

Manwë felt compelled to take the younger Ayanuz into his embrace. “I am so sorry,” he whispered.

Námo just shrugged. “Not your fault,” he said. “He would call me ‘Little One’... I always hated him for that.”

Manwë stepped back to look at Námo more directly. “Hate? Do you truly hate him?”

Námo shrugged. “I do not know. I only know that I do not — cannot — love him. He hurt me too much for that.”

“Whereas I cannot stop loving him no matter the harm he has caused,” Manwë said with a sigh, an expression of extreme sorrow on his face. “Always I pray that he will find his way back to us... to me... to Atar, but I fear my prayers are in vain and my hope is as dust.”

For some reason Námo could not help but smile, though it held no warmth. “We’re a pathetic pair, aren’t we?” he asked wryly and Manwë found himself smiling back, the mood lightening between them.

“You never seemed to mind Aulë or Ulmo calling you ‘Little Brother’, though,” Manwë commented shrewdly.

Námo sighed. “From them I knew it meant that they loved me. From Melkor... he made me feel worthless and insignificant.”

“Yet you are neither,” Manwë retorted. “You said it yourself, Aulë and Ulmo love you, as do we all. Can you truly believe we would think any less of you or dismiss your honest efforts in creating beauty?”

“I always thought that because fewer of the Máyar took oath with me that they only did so because no one else wanted them, that they were too weak and useless for anyone else.”

Manwë gave Námo a look of shock and disbelief and for a long moment he could not reply but finally he pulled himself together and his expression became sterner. “They cleaved to you, Námo, because they recognized your worth... and theirs. Never doubt that. And if the Máyar in your service are fewer than those who serve the rest of us, what of it? Do their brethren despise them and shun them? I think not.” He paused as he gauged the effect his words had on Námo, who still did not look convinced. “Do you know what Eönwë said to me when he returned to my service?”

Námo shook his head, giving Manwë a quizzical look.

“He told me that while he was with you he learned the true meaning of the word ‘love’ when he witnessed the way you treated your Máyar and the way they responded to you. He said that he almost envied those in your service for what they receive from you and he thanked me for, and I quote, ‘punishing me so lovingly by giving me over to Lord Námo’s correction.’”

Námo stood there speechless, staring at Manwë, searching desperately for any sign of insincerity in the Eldest’s words, and detecting none, he found himself suddenly weeping. Manwë took him back in his embrace and rocked him gently.

“You see,” he said softly, “you are loved and respected by all, not the least by me.”

“Th-thank you... brother,” Námo stuttered.

Manwë gave him a squeeze and then released him. “You know, I just realized something,” he said quietly.

“Wh-what?” Námo asked, attempting to wipe the tears from his face.

“I lost one brother, but Atar gave me six others, including you. I’m not as alone as I once thought.” He bent over and gave Námo a brief kiss on his brow and smiled. “Thank you, brother.” Then, without giving Námo a chance to respond, he glanced briefly up at the stars still shining down upon them and walked away, leaving Námo alone once more. For a long moment Námo just stood there, staring after him.

*Well done, best beloved,* Atar’s voice came to him in quiet approbation.

“What do you mean, Atar? I did nothing.”

*On the contrary, Child of Mine, thou didst give unto Manwë what he needed most... thy compassion.*

“I guess....” Námo replied doubtfully, trying to remember just when he’d been compassionate.

*It is for that very reason that I created thee, Child,* Atar said. *Thou art the Compassionate One, the Consoler and Comforter. That is thy true purpose in Eä. Judge and Doomsman thou shalt be of necessity, but these roles shall not delimit what and who thou art. Thou’rt more than thou deemest, Námo.”

Námo contemplated Atar’s words, thinking back on the conversation between him and Manwë. “I think we both needed each other just now,” he said.

*Indeed,* came Atar’s reply.

“I’m not the only one Melkor has hurt,” Námo acknowledged, speaking almost to himself. “He always made me feel... weak.”

*Yet it is in thy very weakness that thou’rt strong,* Atar said, *for when thou dost encounter weakness in others thou canst give them thy compassion born from the experiences of helplessness thou hast suffered and in giving them that thou givest them also hope to overcome their own sense of impotence, just as thou hast. That is a mighty gift indeed and a grave responsibility.*

Námo nodded, realizing the truth of Atar’s words. “I thank thee, Atar,” he said simply.

*Thou’rt most welcome, Child,* Atar replied, sending a loving caress that eased the final ache in Námo’s fëa. Námo gave one more glance at the stars shining above him and then started to leave the Chapel. *Where goest thou?* Atar asked.

Námo suspected Atar knew well enough, nevertheless he answered, “Back to my Halls. I have much to do to make them even more beautiful for the Children when they at last come to me. I only hope they will appreciate my efforts on their behalf.”

*They will,* Atar assured him, *as do I.*

Námo smiled, and for the first time in a long time, he felt himself truly blessed.

****

Nessamelda: (Quenya) ‘Nessa-beloved’, a fragrant tree found in Aman.

Note: There is no definite description of Námo’s Halls, but certainly it would have started out less elaborately than it later became.

48: Many Waters

Years passed and there was great peace in Aman. Námo found himself spending much of his time in his Halls, beautifying them with the help of Vairë and their Máyar. All of them were eager to provide the Second Children with a place of comfort and refreshment of spirit. Chambers were carved out where the fëar of the Children would retire to contemplate their lives in preparation to leaving Eä altogether. Other swan boats were built and there was much speculation about the Mortals and what they would be like.

"I imagine they will grieve to leave behind the only home they will know," Maranwë said to Tiutalion, his brother in the Thought of Atar, as Maranwë gave him a tour of Námo’s Halls.

The Máya belonging to the People of Nienna nodded. "I am sure that you and the other Máyar will treat them gently and offer them solace so they will be able to face their fate with joy rather than with dread of the unknown."

"That is my hope, as well," Maranwë said. "Come. Let me show you the fountain I created. I think you will agree it is quite lovely."

"It cannot be anything but beautiful, my brother, for I know that all that you create you do so with love."

Maranwë gave his brother a shy smile as they continued down the passage.

****

Eventually, Námo was satisfied that his Halls were as beautiful as they could be. He and Vairë looked about in great satisfaction. Everywhere were gladsome fountains and tapestries of great beauty. In spite of the fact that the Halls were built into the hills and no windows looked out into the world, they were light-filled and the air was wholesome.

"Of course, they won’t need to breathe," Námo said with a wry grin, "or even need light, being dead."

Vairë smiled back. "It is still thoughtful of you, though, my love, and shows how much you already care for them."

"I still find it rather odd that Atar would have me build this now when even the Firstborn have yet to arise." He frowned a bit at the thought, thinking he was overlooking something important, something obvious.

"I’m sure Atar has his reasons, love," Vairë said soothingly. "Now, I must go. I promised Estë I would help her and Irmo to construct a lake."

"A lake?" Námo asked in surprise. "What lake?"

Vairë shrugged. "Estë said something about wanting a lake in the middle of the Gardens they’ve been creating. She wants to have an island in the lake as well, a retreat for herself, or so she said."

"A retreat, is it?" Námo gave Vairë a wicked smile. "Does she tire of my brother so soon?"

Vairë laughed. "I do not think so and Irmo seems willing enough for her to have this island for herself. At any rate, I promised I would help."

"Why wasn’t I asked?" Námo looked a bit hurt.

Vairë gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You’ve been so busy with your new Halls, Irmo didn’t want to distract you, but I’m sure they would both welcome your help, as would I."

Námo needed no further invitation and together they made their way north towards the Gardens as they were called by everyone. They were quite beautiful, and everyone rejoiced in them. When they arrived they found Nienna was there as well. She smiled at them both.

"Ah... there you are, brother," she said. "I’d almost forgotten what you looked like, you’ve been so busy of late."

"Not so busy that you couldn’t have wandered by and given me your greeting," Námo quipped.

"True," Nienna averred, "but as it happens I’ve been busy constructing my own house just west of here overlooking the ocean."

"Indeed?" Námo said with a raised eyebrow. "Is your mansion in the city not to your liking anymore?"

"Oh no," Nienna said. "Nothing like that. I just... well, it just seemed right for me to build this house by the sea. I’m not sure why exactly, but I suspect I’ll learn its purpose eventually." She looked less sure of herself than usual and Námo hugged her.

"It seems that Atar is inspiring more and more of us to build what we never thought to. It never occurred to me, for instance, that I would be charged with the fëar of the Secondborn."

They all nodded at that. Irmo then spoke up. "Well, should we get started?"

****

Sometime later they were looking at their handiwork with great satisfaction. Yavanna stopped by at one point and made suggestions as to the types of trees and other plants Estë might want growing on the island and promised to stock the lake with colorful fish as well.

Before she left she gave Námo a questioning look. "So, now that you’ve completed building your Halls, will you and Vairë finally espouse?"

Námo gave her a surprised look and then glanced at Vairë. Something passed between them and without taking his eyes off his beloved, he nodded. "Yes. I think the time is meet."

Vairë nodded as well. She reached out her hand to him, and he took it, then she turned to the others. "We’ll go and tell Manwë."

"I think we should make this an extra special occasion," Estë said. "We’ve all waited so long for this. You don’t know how some of us despaired that you would ever come to an understanding."

Both Námo and Vairë gave her surprised looks that turned rather thoughtful when Irmo, Nienna and Yavanna all nodded.

Námo wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a revelation and said the first thing that came to mind. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

Everyone just laughed and Irmo hugged him. "Believe me, brother," he whispered in Námo’s ear, "it’s been worth it."

Mollified by those words, Námo nodded and then he and Vairë left to find Manwë and Varda to tell them the news.

****

It was decided to hold the wedding in Námo’s Halls. Varda insisted, saying that until the Secondborn came into existence the Halls would simply stand empty. "We might as well put them to some use in the meantime."

Námo at first objected, saying that there wouldn’t be enough room for them all if they remained in hröa but finally agreed when Vairë indicated her desire to be wed there. "We can hold the ceremony in the main hall," she suggested. "It’s the largest after all."

"And the Máyar need not be physically present to attend, as well you know," Varda pointed out. "It makes sense that only your and Vairë’s Máyar should be present as well as any others you feel should be physically there."

"I would like for Eönwë, Olórin and Fionwë to be there," Námo said with a nod, "since they were under my lordship, if only for a short time."

"Then it is settled," Manwë said with a smile. "Let us plan the ceremony together while the others make the place as festive as possible."

So the announcement was made and all were glad at the news. The other Ayanumuz and their Máyar assisted the People of Námo and Vairë in decorating the main hall with festoons of flowers. Some of them under Aulë’s direction created beautifully crafted circlets for the couple. They were made of mithril and white gold in the shape of nermir, their wings jeweled. In the center of each circlet was set a cabochon the size of a pigeon egg — Vairë’s was a pink opal while Námo’s was a rainbow moonstone.

It was decided to hold the ceremony at the Second Mingling after all was readied. The arches that led to other parts of the Halls were garlanded with flowers of every color and the fountain, which was the main feature in the chamber, was bedecked with roses. Námo, Vairë, Manwë and Varda stood beside the fountain while the other Ayanumuz encircled them. Námo’s and Vairë’s Máyar, including Eönwë, Olórin and Fionwë, stood where they could against the walls. The door leading to the outer world stood open and many of the other Máyar were before it, though in truth, all the Máyar wheresoever they happened to be were able to see what was happening.

The ceremony began with a paean to Atar followed by an ode to love sung by all save the marrying couple. Estë came forward and crowned Vairë with the circlet made for her while Irmo did the same for Námo. Then, as the music faded, Manwë spoke.

"We have all looked forward to this day with great anticipation. It gladdens me to be witness to the espousing of Námo and Vairë. They have both suffered greatly at the hands of our Fallen Brother and it is a testament to the power of their love for one another that they have been able to overcome many obstacles so that we are able to gather here this day to hear their vows."

With a nod from Manwë, Námo took Vairë’s hands and gazed deeply into her violet eyes, so full of love and joy for him. "Vairë, thou art the heart of my heart and my soul’s rest," he began, speaking clearly so all might hear. "In thee I have found my truest self and I would cleave unto thee for all the ages of Atháraphelun and beyond. Thou art the very air I breathe and I shall love thee with all my being. May Atar sanctify our love before these witnesses."

Then Vairë spoke. "Námo, since I first became aware of thee in the Timeless Halls, I fell in love with thee, though thou knewest it not. For long ages I feared thou never would, but circumstances changed thy feelings for me and while we have sometimes faltered along the way in our resolve for one another, I knew this day would eventually come and so I cleave to thee with great joy, for thou hast my heart in thy keeping now and for all the ages of Atháraphelun and beyond. May Atar sanctify our love before these witnesses."

"Rimba neni lá polir luita melmë, oloiri lá polir orqueris," Námo then intoned before bending down to kiss Vairë sweetly on the lips, a kiss which she returned with great eagerness.

All around them there was a sigh of pleasure or perhaps of relief as the last two Ayanumuz who would ever espouse in Eä continued to kiss one another. Manwë stepped forward then and took their hands, forcing them to unclinch with shy smiles. "As vice-gerent in Eä to Atar I hereby declare Námo and Vairë formally espoused and offer my blessing for their happiness." He then took Vairë into his embrace and kissed her gently on the forehead before doing the same with Námo. Stepping back, he allowed Varda to give the newly wedded couple her own kiss in blessing. One by one, each of the other Ayanumuz did the same while the Máyar sang a joyful song praising love.

As Tulkas and Nessa, the last of the Ayanumuz to offer their blessings to Námo and Vairë, stepped back, they were all suddenly surrounded by a host of nermir and the sense of love that flowed from the Timeless Halls and filled them all was nearly overwhelming. Námo and Vairë clung to one another, kissing under a canopy of jewel-toned wings as songs of praise continued to be sung by everyone else.

****

Rimba neni lá polir luita melmë, oloiri lá polir orqueris: ‘Many waters cannot flood love, great floods cannot overturn it’. This is as close to the biblical quotation as I could get: ‘Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it.’ — Song of Solomon (Song of Songs) 8:7.

Rainbow Moonstone: A symbol of passionate love as well as of truth in self-reflection and showing what ‘is’.

Pink Opal: The opal is said to be the most powerful of healing stones, and the pink opal fosters compassion and a gentle resolution of painful memories. It is also a stone of hope and of love, but only to faithful lovers.

49: The Uninvited

Shortly after their espousal, Námo and his Máyar joined with Vairë’s People to build a house near Námo’s Halls for Vairë.

"You should have a place nearby where you can work on your tapestries," Námo said, "and we should have a place to ourselves away from the others, the way Irmo and Estë have their gardens and Nienna has her own house by the sea. I think once the Secondborn start coming to my Halls, I will be busy ministering to them."

Vairë nodded and gave her new husband a smile and a kiss. "That sounds wonderful."

So they set about designing it to Vairë's specifications. It was constructed around a central flagged court with Námo and Vairë’s private rooms along the western side. The other three wings were devoted to guest rooms and workshops for Vairë and her maidens. A fountain graced the center of the court. While Vairë and Námo concentrated on beautifying the house, their Máyar set about creating pleasing gardens surrounding it, even landscaping the low hills nearby that essentially made up the Halls. Small gardens were created along one area, each one unique. Námo was surprised to see them and called to Maranwë for an explanation.

His chief Máya gave him an uncertain look. "Do you not like them, lord?"

"Oh, I like them very much," Námo replied, "I’m just confused. I don’t recall ordering them made." His expression was carefully neutral, though there was a glint of humor lurking in his eyes that the Máya did not catch.

Maranwë shrugged. "When we finished creating the gardens around the house, some of us felt a need to make these other gardens." He gave his lord a puzzled look. "I am not sure why, though. It just seemed the... the right thing to do."

At that Námo smiled. "Then I think you should follow your heart in this."

Maranwë gave the Ayanuz a bow. "Thank you, lord. I feared you would not approve and ask us to tear them down."

Námo shook his head. "I would never do that. Even if you did not have my permission, I can see that you and the others have put much love and care into creating such beautiful gardens and I would never deliberately ask anyone to destroy beauty. Continue as you have been with my blessing."

Maranwë bowed more deeply a second time and went off to complete his task while Námo checked in with Vairë to see how she and her maidens were coming with setting up her looms.

"We almost have everything in place," she told him. "Soon we will be weaving again."

"That is well," Námo said, taking her into his arms and giving her a light kiss. "What will be your first project?"

Vairë gave him a coy look. "I was thinking of doing a tapestry of our wedding."

Námo smiled. "I would like that."

"Then be off with you so I can get to it," Vairë replied with a light laugh and after exchanging sweet kisses, he left, making his way to his Halls to see if there was anything that needed doing there. It seemed every time he walked the corridors there was always one detail or another that he thought of and would then spend some time adding it.

Thus, he was in one of the chambers set aside for contemplation, thinking he would like to change the color of the walls from stark white to something softer and more congenial for meditation, when something deep inside him seemed to open up, some aspect of himself of which he was previously unaware. He was not sure what was happening, only that he had a great need to call out what he instinctively knew was a Word of Power in a language he did not know. Even so, he realized that his actions were a summons. He mulled the Word over in his mind and realized that it was a Name.

Then, behind him he heard a frightened whimper.

He slowly turned to find himself facing a creature with similar features to his own and knew that the Name which he had called out belonged to this being. The male, for it was obvious that the creature was indeed male, was beautiful with pointed ears and silvery locks and bluish-grey eyes, eyes that looked upon him with confusion and primal fear. The... person, or so Námo mentally labeled him, appeared physically solid but he instinctively realized that that was not the case. This pathetic creature was here only in fëa. Námo took a tentative step forward, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do, and the poor thing shrieked and fled down the corridor.

"Maranwë! Calimo!" he shouted even as he pursued the fëa.

At once the two Maiar were there, looking confused. "My lord?" Maranwë asked as he and Calimo followed Námo down the passageway.

"We have intruders or perhaps visitors," Námo exclaimed, never stopping. "Check the front gates and alert everyone else. I want the entire Halls searched. If you find anyone, don’t approach them, just alert me."

"Yes, lord," Maranwë answered. "What do these... um... intruders look like?"

By now the three had rounded a corner to find the fëa huddled against the door that was at the end of the corridor. Námo pointed as they came to a stop. "Like that," he said.

The two Máyar gasped in shock and amazement, staring in disbelief at the creature whimpering in abject fear. "Wh-who... what is that, lord? Why does it look like us?" Calimo whispered.

"That’s what I hope to find out," Námo whispered back. "Go. You have your orders."

The two bowed and then they were simply not there, and that set the fëa screaming again as he scrabbled on the floor trying to reach the handle to open the door, though Námo knew he would not be able to. That door led nowhere; Námo had yet to expand his Halls in that direction.

"Easy now," he said soothingly, kneeling before the frightened being. "Be not afraid, my child. None here will harm thee."

He was unsure the person even understood him, for he was whimpering in his own language which Námo was only just beginning to grasp. The language was musical in spite of the fear distorting it, and for a moment Námo marveled at this other being who was definitely not one of the Ayanumuz or Máyar come from the Timeless Halls.

"E-emmë... emmë... manass’ emya?" the fëa stammered over and over again and as the words slowly resolved themselves into something intelligible for Námo, the Ayanuz began to weep himself.

"Oh, my child," he whispered forlornly, "who art thou and whence comest thou?"

The being merely shook his head, continuing to whimper. Námo inched a little closer, knowing the fëa would be unable to flee. Somehow the fëa was exhibiting characteristics of being in hröa, else it could simply think itself away, and Námo marveled at the exquisite fragility of the fëa, so different from the spiritual forms of the Ayanumuz and Máyar. All the while, the poor thing crouched against the door and wept. Slowly, ever slowly, Námo approached until he was close enough to reach out and take the creature into his embrace. At that point, the fëa started screaming again and attempted to struggle out of his hold but Námo held him tightly, sitting with his back against the door, cradling the terrified Child.

And as he held him Námo knew, without knowing how he knew, that this was one of the Children. He had a sudden memory, one that he had completely forgotten about, a vision he had had while a captive of Melkor, of one of the Firstborn standing before him in terror and only now did he realize the implications of that vision. "O Atar," he whispered in dread, "what hath happened?"

A sense of comfort flooded him, though no words followed. He looked down at the fëa still weeping inconsolably in his arms and, gently rocking him, he began to sing the very lullaby Atar had sung to him so long ago when he was lost. He continued rocking the Child in his arms and singing, sending him whatever comfort he was able to receive until at last the fëa ceased its weeping and fell asleep. Námo continued humming the lullaby for a little while longer until he was sure the Child would not awaken, then he spoke to Atar.

"What hath happened, Atar? Who is he?"

*Thou didst speak his Name, Námo, summoning him to thee,* came Atar’s Thought.

"But... how? How did I know to do so just then?" Námo asked in confusion.

*Did I not say unto thee that I would send to thee those who would come to thy Halls?*

Námo stared down at the now quiescent fëa, so incredibly beautiful in its terrible delicacy. "But this is one of the Firstborn," he protested. "They are not meant for Death, as the Secondborn will be."

*Thy brother hath found the Children and hath wrought great evil upon them. This one died in pain and agony as Melkor attempted to corrupt him for his own purposes.*

"The Children are awake," Námo whispered in awe as he glanced down at the somnolent fëa. "I have to tell Manwë. We have to...."

*Nay, Child,* Atar exclaimed. *Thou wilt not speak of this to anyone.*

Now Námo felt shocked. "What!? What do you mean, Atar? This is the moment we’ve all waited for for so long. Manwë must be told. We must rescue the Children from Melkor."

*And ye will, Námo, but in My Time, not thine,* came Atar’s gentle admonishment.

"Then... then what do I do with this one?" Námo asked, feeling confused.

*This Child’s fëa has been scarred by evil, his innocence stripped from him in ways thou canst not imagine. He and the others who will soon come to thee will need healing sleep, much as thou didst experience after thine own escape from Melkor.*

"Others?" Námo whispered in dread. "There are others?"

*Yes, Child,* Atar replied with great gentleness.

For a long moment there was only silence as Námo looked compassionately at the still sleeping fëa and then he realized something.

"My Halls. They were never meant for the Secondborn at all, were they? Thou didst always intend them for those of the Firstborn murdered by Melkor." There was a growing sense of outrage and a feeling of being used.

*They are meant for both, Námo,* Atar said. *The Firstborn have a lifespan equal to that of the life of Atháraphelun, but they are still susceptible to dying, either by the hand of others or through the process of fading, or simply through unintended accidents.*

*But... why didst thou not tell me?" There was a sense of betrayal in his tone as he struggled to understand what Atar was saying.

*Thou wouldst not have understood at the time, but now thou dost,* came the answer.

Námo sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the door. Atar was correct, he realized. Had he been told the real purpose for the Halls, or at least for part of them, he would have been disbelieving of anything Atar might have said.

"So what now?" he finally asked.

*Now I think this Little One should be placed on a sleeping couch and left to heal,* Atar said gently.

"Yet for how long?" Námo enquired. "He’s been bereft of his hröa which should never have happened. What will become of him and the others?"

*In time I will show thee,* Atar replied. *For now it is enough that thou dost succor those who come, for they will be in sore need of thy healing compassion, a compassion born of pain wrought by the same hands that murdered this Child.*

"And the other Ayanumuz cannot be told?"

*Only your Máyar should be told and bound to secrecy for a little while... and Vairë. I would not have such secrecy lie between the two of ye, but the others should not be told at this time. Thou wilt know when it is time to reveal to Manwë what hath transpired.*

"Why, Atar?" he cried. "Why?"

Even he wasn’t sure just what he was asking but Atar appeared to understand. He felt a gentle caress that must have spilled over to the sleeping fëa who cuddled closer to him. Námo bent down and kissed him gently on the brow and the Child sighed but otherwise did not stir.

*In My own Time, Námo,* Atar replied. *All things must come to fruition in their own time and Mine.*

Námo nodded, then slowly rose with the fëa still in his arms. He returned to the chamber where the Child had first appeared, a sleeping couch already there waiting, and laid him on it, slipping a soft blanket over his naked form. "Sleep, Child," he whispered as he stroked the Firstborn’s hair. "Sleep and let thy fëa find healing. When the time is right, let thou awaken only to thyself, with no memory of the horrors thou hast suffered."

Then he sent out a thought and one of his Màyar appeared, looking confused at the sight of the somnolent fëa. She bowed. "My lord sent for me?"

Námo gave her a smile. "Yes, Elemmartamirë. I would ask thee to watch over this Child who hath somehow found his way to me for healing."

Elemmartamirë stared at the fëa in shock. "This is one of the Children? But how...?"

"I cannot explain at the moment," Námo said with a shake of his head. "I can only say that others may come and they will all need healing. Wilt thou guard this Child’s sleep until such time as he awakens?"

Elemmartamirë bowed. "I live to serve, lord. There is no need for thee to ask."

"But I do," Námo said, "for I fear this one will be sleeping for some time and the guarding will be wearisome."

"It will be a joy, lord," the Máya said, "for it is for this reason I was created, to be the guardian of the fëar of the Children who come to these Halls for howsoever long it might be."

"Thank you, Elemmartamirë," Námo said humbly. "I will not forget this. Now I must leave. Others I fear will be coming and I must prepare places of rest for them."

Elemmartamirë bowed again before taking a position beside the couch gazing with loving intent upon the sleeping form, a slight smile gracing her face. Námo then sent a silent summons and thought himself to the front hall where he found Maranwë, Calimo and the other Máyar, both his and Vairë’s, waiting for him with great expectancy.

"The Children have awakened," he said without preamble. There was a stir among the Máyar which quickly quieted as Námo continued speaking. "Atar has enjoined me not to speak of this to anyone until he gives me permission. Therefore, I will ask each of you for an oath of silence. None can know of this at this time."

There was a grave silence that fell between them that lasted for some minutes. Then Maranwë took a step forward. "Thou'rt our lord," he said. "Our silence we give thee." There were nods all around and Námo nodded.

"Thank you, all of you," he said. "I do not deserve such...."

"Nay, lord," Maranwë said. "Thou dost deserve all our love and devotion, for thou’rt the only lord we desire to serve now and for all the ages of Atháraphelun and beyond."

With that the Máyar all knelt as one and raised their hands symbolically in a gesture of fealty as they followed Maranwë in intoning their vows of silence while Námo stood there awed and humbled at the same time. When the oaths were spoken and accepted Námo then told them what they must do.

"Atar says others like the first fëa will appear. They will be frightened and confused. You must do what you can to comfort them until I arrive. In the meantime, see that every meditation chamber is equipped with a sleeping couch. Some of you I will ask to guard over the fëar as they sleep, but if you feel you cannot faithfully fulfill such a task then tell me. There is no shame nor condemnation if you cannot. We all have our strengths and weaknesses and not everyone has been made for that purpose."

Then he dismissed the Máyar to resume their duties while he sought out Vairë. When he found her in one of her workshops weaving, he dismissed her maidens who were in attendance and then quietly, tearfully, told her what had happened. Before he was through with his narrative she was wrapping her arms around him while he wept.

****

Emmë... emmë... manass’ emya?: (Eldarin) ‘Mama... mama... where is my mama?’.

50: The Third Council of Manwë

There were other fëar who came to the Halls. Each seemed more grievous in wounds than the last, their souls weak with fear and horror and the Máyar wept to see them. Námo spent more and more time in his Halls, arranging for additional sleeping chambers to be built, for he was fast running out of rooms for them. For a long time, neither he nor Vairë were seen among the other Ayanumuz, for Námo was not sure if he could face Manwë with any equanimity, knowing what he knew and Vairë refused to leave his side, preferring to remain close by to offer him solace when it got too much for him. Many of the other Ayanumuz erroneously assumed that they were spending time alone as was common among the newly espoused. None could imagine the truth of the matter and their Máyar were careful to maintain the fiction whenever they were abroad.

As more and more Children came to the Halls, Námo became better acquainted with their language and he began teaching his People simple phrases of comfort for them to use with the fëar in hopes that speaking their language would help calm them and assure them that they meant them no harm.

"They call themselves Quendi," Námo told Vairë when they happened to be alone, their Máyar dismissed for a time. "It seems to mean something like ‘Speakers’ or perhaps more correctly ‘Ones with voices’."

"They are a marvel," Vairë said. "Never in my deepest thoughts did I imagine them quite so fragile and beautiful. It angers me that Melkor has found them before us and has tortured them for his own amusement."

"Some of them speak of the Hunter," Námo said with a grimace. "They are so innocent. It breaks my heart to see them so broken and lost. And then, there’s something else."

Vairë gave her beloved a measuring look at the hesitation she heard in his voice. "What is it, meldonya?"

"As innocent as they are, I find that I must... judge them."

"I don’t understand," his beloved said with a frown. "Judge them for what?"

"Perhaps ‘judge’ is the wrong word, I don’t know," Námo replied with a shrug. "All I do know is that as each fëa comes to me, I sit in judgment of their lives. I have them... relive their lives and... and their deaths...."

Vairë gasped in dismay. "Whyever would you do such a thing? Have these poor Children not suffered enough?"

"Do you think I don’t know that?" Námo retorted with a scowl. "I relive their torture and deaths along with them. It’s not by my choice either, but something that Atar has enjoined upon me. It’s part of the healing process."

"Healing? How can such an experience be healing?"

Námo gave Vairë a gentle kiss and a sad smile. "Because Atar did the same thing with me after I escaped from Melkor."

Vairë just stared at him for the longest time, her expression one of mingled pity and horror at the thought of what her beloved had gone through to come to final healing. She finally wrapped her arms around him. "Oh my beloved. I am so sorry," she whispered.

Námo hugged her back. "The price one pays for falling into Melkor’s grasp."

"Well, if you recall, I was in his grasp for a while, but Atar didn’t make me go through what you did."

"Yet you spent some time alone with Nienna, I hear," he answered with a chuckle. "I doubt my sister was all that comforting in her manner."

"More than you suspect, but you are correct. She did not let me hide from what happened, but forced me to face it, and myself."

For a time there was silence between them as they clung to one another, giving each other comfort, even as they both were lost in their own thoughts and memories. Finally Vairë spoke again. "I wish Atar would let us tell the others about the Children. I do not understand...."

She was interrupted by a silent summons from Manwë, one that they could not ignore and in the blink of an eye, they were both standing in the main throne room of Ilmarin where all the other Ayanumuz were gathered. In their midst was Oromë, his expression one of pure joy.

"I found them! I found them!" he kept saying.

"Found who?" Manwë demanded.

"The Children!" Oromë replied. "I found the Children, and no, before you ask, Námo, I didn’t trample over any of them."

There were gasps of delight and laughter all at the same time and then Oromë was bombarded with questions from all of them, all save Námo and Vairë, who stood apart from the crowd. Vairë quietly took Námo’s hand and squeezed it. He looked at her and gave her a smile, though his eyes were tinged with pain. No one seemed to notice and then Manwë ordered silence, requesting that everyone take their seats so they could listen to Oromë’s report.

"Just one thing," Námo said, as he took his own throne. "Oromë, what is that covering your hröa?"

Oromë looked down, his expression one of surprise, as if he’d not noticed the strange garment before, and then he looked up, his face red with embarrasment. "The Children call it a laupë in their language and they cover their own hröar with it."

"Whyever for?" Yavanna asked in surprise.

Vairë, meanwhile, had left her throne to examine the tunic more closely, highly intrigued by the manner of its construction, fingering the hem. "A rather crude weave," she muttered to herself, "but remarkable nonetheless." Then she looked up at Oromë sitting there in bemusement. "How did they...."

Manwë cleared his throat. "Ah, Vairë," he said with an indulgent smile. "Some other time perhaps?" Vairë blushed and muttered an apology as she resumed her throne. Námo cast her a wry grin and reached over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

Meanwhile, Oromë was answering Yavanna’s question. "The Children appear to need such coverings to protect them from the elements and also there seems to be a... a taboo amongst them that they not appear before one another without them." He gave them a shrug and a wry smile. "I rather shocked them appearing as I did."

"How did you find them?" Manwë asked.

"I was hunting with just Naehaerra this time," Oromë said. "When I reached the shores of Helcar I turned north until I passed under the shadows of the Orocarni." The other Ayanumuz nodded, well aware of the geography of the Outer Lands. "Then all of a sudden Naehaerra cried out greatly and went absolutely still. I sat for a time in wonder, listening to the silence of the land and then it seemed to me that far in the distance I heard many voices singing."

There were murmurs all around and it was some time before calm was restored and Oromë was able to continue his narrative. "We approached them, but I fear I frightened them. Some fled into the darkness, never to be seen by their companions again." His expression was both sorrowful and troubled. "The ones who did not flee spoke of the Hunter or the Rider, a dark shape blotting out the stars and snatching any of the Children who strayed away from their settlement." He shook his head. "They thought I was this Hunter come to take them."

"Melkor?" Aulë asked with a frown.

Oromë nodded. "So I suspect, or perhaps one of his minions. There was never a clear description, but it did not matter. When I was able to convince the Children that I was not this Hunter they all feared, they welcomed me." He chuckled with amusement and gave them a wry smile. "The first thing they did was offer me this tunic to wear. I fear the... the females among them could not stop blushing every time they saw me."

Vána gave her spouse a considering look. "I hope you did not make their menfolk jealous."

Oromë blushed at that and the others started laughing. Then the questions started again, but Oromë forestalled them. "I wish to return to them, offer them my protection. They are unsafe in the dark under the stars. Melkor has already found them. We need to protect them from further depredations by our Fallen Brother."

Námo stole a guilty look at Vairë who simply reached over and took his hand in hers. If the others noticed, they gave no indication. Manwë, in fact, was busy giving Oromë instructions. "Go and take some of your people with you, though I think it wise that the Children be unaware of the Máyar as yet. Let them see only you and Nahaerra for now. I must think about the import of your news before any decisions can be made. Come when I call."

Oromë nodded and with a fond kiss for his wife, he bade them all farewell and was gone. Manwë then turned to the others. "When I am ready, I will summon you for a council. In the meantime, let us be glad and rejoice, for the Children have been found at last."

The others raised voices in gratitude to Atar as they went their separate ways, informing their Máyar of the joyful news. Everywhere in Aman there was singing and rejoicing. Everywhere, that is, but in Námo’s Halls, where the Vala of Doom sat on a stone-carved throne gently cradling a newly arrived fëa as the Child wept, while Máyar stood about quietly singing a lullaby to help soothe the tortured soul.

****

Several Minglings of the Trees later, all were again summoned, but this time, not to Ilmarin but to the Mahananashkad. Even Ulmo deigned to appear. Last to come were Námo and Vairë. Oromë was already there as well, giving them news of the Children and their doings. Then Manwë ordered silence and they all took their thrones.

"This is the counsel of Atar in my heart," he began solemnly, "that we should take up the mastery of Atháraphelun, at whatsoever cost, and deliver the Quendi from the shadow of Melkor."

At that Tulkas stood. "At last! At last we take the fight to Melkor. It was something we should have done long before this."

"Yet, in going against Melkor, there will be many hurts to the world," Aulë said sadly. "There will be no avoiding it and the Quendi may well suffer for it most grievously."

"Then we must protect them," Námo said firmly. "I offer my own Máyar for the task."

"As do I," Vairë added.

Manwë gave them both a shrewd look but then nodded. "Perhaps we can all contribute some of our Máyar to the task of protecting the Children from the ravages of the war that will ensue. I know that there are still some who have never fully recovered from the last war and they have little strength to be effective warriors. This will give them an honorable purpose while their brethren join us in battle."

The others nodded and so it was decided. Námo and Vairë returned to the Halls to inform their Máyar of the decision to go to war on behalf of the Children. There was much rejoicing and nearly all the Máyar, even those who were fierce warriors and would normally follow their lord or lady into battle, requested leave to go and protect the Quendi instead. In the end it was decided to have them cast lots to decide who would go to Cuiviénen and who would follow Námo and Vairë to war.

"At last these Little Ones will be avenged," Maranwë said with great feeling. As Námo’s Chief Máya, he would be carrying his lord’s standard when the Ayanumuz went to war. Námo could only nod in agreement, the dark flame of battle already smoldering in his eyes in anticipation.

****

Laupë: (Quenya) Tunic, shirt.

Note on Time: According to Tolkien’s timeline of the Silmarillion, the Two Trees were created in VY3500 and Varda created the new stars in VY4500. The Firstborn awoke 50 Valian years (479 solar years) later. Thus, 1050 Valian years (10,059 solar years) pass between the creation of the Two Trees and the Awakening of the Elves. Melkor discovered the Elves thirty Valian years (approximately 287 solar years) later and began capturing some of them, corrupting them into orcs. For purposes of this story, the first fëar begin arriving in what will some day be called Mandos two Valian years (approximately 19 solar years) later. Three more Valian years (28.7 solar years) will pass before Oromë discovers the Elves in VY4585. Thus, thirty-five Valian years (approximately 335 solar years) pass between the time the Children awaken by the shores of Cuiviénen and Oromë finds them.

Note on Geography: Helcar is the name of the great Inner Sea far to the northeast of Middle-earth of which Cuiviénen was a bay. It was believed by the Elves to be where the roots of the mountain of Illuin, the northern Lamp, had been before Melkor overthrew it. The Orocarni, meaning ‘Red Mountains’, were the Mountains of the East in Middle-earth.

51: Tulwi Ainuron Etelelyar

Preparations for the war continued apace. A call went forth for the Máyar who were already present in the Outer Lands to ascertain the exact location of Melkor’s fortresses and the strength of his army. Only then did the Ayanumuz realize how Atar had purposed this when he inspired some of the Máyar to abandon Amanaphelun when they did: that when the need arose, there would already be Máyar spies in place. Strategies were offered and abandoned or modified as more information was gathered. Ilmarin’s throne room became a War room with a model of Ambarhíni floating in midair, serenely spinning in real-time. Where Amanaphelun was located a single white light, indicating the Ayanumuz, pulsated gently, while two other lights, both red, shone where Utumno and Angamando were located in the Outer Lands. Far to the east was a single blue light marking the location of Cuiviénen and the Children. Various other hues of light spread from Amanaphelun across the Sea indicating possible routes for the army of the Ayanumuz to take.

"The fastest way is across this land bridge to the north," Ulmo said, pointing to the globe. His finger traced a green line of light along the suggested route. "It’s the narrowest point between Amanaphelun and the Outer Lands. We can approach both of Melkor’s main fortresses from the northwest."

Manwë nodded. "However, we need to bring some of our forces from this direction," he said, moving another line of light, this one blue, from the southeast upward. "I don’t want any of Melkor’s People to escape in this direction. They could very well make their way to Cuiviénen and attempt to take hostages from among the Children."

There were looks of dismay at that thought. Finally Aulë nodded. "We would have to coordinate this very carefully. These forces in the south and east need to be in place before we reach the northern shore. They must also be in hiding. Melkor must not suspect that they are there."

"That might be hard to accomplish," Tulkas said with a frown. "The Úmáyar are as capable of detecting us when we are unclad as we are capable of detecting them."

"True," Manwë replied, staring at the slowly spinning globe pensively. "We will have to create a diversion, I think; keep Melkor’s attention fixed in one direction and one direction only."

"Then we should make our faring forth a spectacle," Námo said and all eyes turned to him. He had remained silent throughout the discussion until now, deciding to let others take the lead in making plans. He nodded at the quizzical looks on his fellow Ayanumuz’s faces. "We must give Melkor what he desires most: a chance to show off even more than we."

For a moment the others merely exchanged looks and then Manwë nodded. "I think that will work. Very well. The larger part of our forces will follow us along this northern route. We will make of ourselves a spectacle though there will be none to see."

"Save Atar," Varda added quietly and the others nodded.

"A smaller, more elite group will make their way along the south and east," Manwë continued, pointing to the globe. "We want to contain Melkor here in the Northwest. This mountain range in the east should help hem him in."

"I will have Melyanna and the other Máyar already there keep an eye on Melkor’s forces," Irmo stated. "They will alert us of any attempt to flee to the south or east."

"That is well," Manwë said. "At all costs we must keep Melkor and his People from Cuiviénen. The Children are to be protected, both from knowledge of this war and from its devastation as far as it is possible."

"There will be great upheavals of land and seas," Námo pointed out. "That cannot be avoided."

"True," Manwë replied. "But I do not think to the total destruction of the world. If we refrain from attacking unclad, approaching Melkor as Incarnates, then Melkor and his People will do the same, if only to show that they are stronger than we are even in physical form. As long as we keep this war limited to the physical plane, Atháraphelun should not suffer unduly."

"We can only hope," Yavanna muttered gravely and they all nodded, silently adding their own prayers to hers.

****

Námo agreed to lead the elite forces along the southern route. Maranwë, when he heard it, was not pleased, nor were many of Námo’s other Máyar. "I wished for us to be at the vanguard of the army," Maranwë complained. "We want to avenge the Children who have suffered so grievously at Melkor’s hands."

"None of them should even be here," Calimo protested hotly, his eyes burning with rage. "These Halls are supposed to be for the Secondborn."

"And now they serve another purpose, perhaps the purpose that was meant all along," Námo countered.

This stopped the Máyar cold at the implications of their lord’s words. "All the more reason that we who know the truth of Melkor’s crimes against the Children should lead the vanguard against him," Maranwë replied at the last. There were many nods among his fellows.

Námo sighed, not sure how to respond. Vairë saved him the trouble. "Manwë himself asked us to do this," she told them. "We only agreed to it because this way we lie in the direct path of any who may attempt to flee towards Cuiviénen. We will be the bastion that offers the Children their best protection."

"As for vengeance," Námo stated, his mien somewhat cold and forbidding. "That is not for any of you to attempt. These Little Ones suffered greatly, it is true, but now they are safe and sleep peacefully. When they awaken they will have no memory of their lives or deaths. A time will come when they will have to face the memory of both, but that is for the future. Today, our only task is to see that no other Children are destroyed in like manner. That is what this war is about. It is not about taking revenge; it’s about seeking justice."

At these words, all the Máyar gave the two Ayanumuz their deepest obeisance and plans were then put forth as to the logistics of the march.

****

At the last minute, Oromë stated he would join Námo and Vairë, adding his own Máyar to theirs. "We will hold the eastern front," he told them, "otherwise your People will be too spread out to be effective."

So it was agreed and at a particular moment Námo and Vairë began sending their Máyar in small groups to begin the infiltration of the Outer Lands. Oromë did the same and over the next year the two groups made their way secretly through the land, creating a defensive line spreading from the western shore to the eastern mountains. At its closest point to Angamando, Melkor’s southern-most fortress, the line was two hundred leagues away.

"This should be close enough to keep the line tight," Oromë told Námo and Vairë as they stood in the midst of the mountains surveying their troops, "but far enough away to avoid detection."

"Remaining corporeal should help," Námo said. "It’s easier to hide our electro-magnetic signatures in hrávë." The other two nodded.

"This will be as far as the enemy will come," Oromë said with some satisfaction. "None will get past us."

Námo stared up at the star-strewn sky and made some calculations. "Manwë will be setting out by now," he said.

"Let us hope Melkor is impressed by the spectacle the others will make," Vairë added.

Oromë smiled at her. "I have no doubt that Manwë will make a great show of it and that Melkor will be unable to resist the challenge."

"Most likely he will cower in his fortress," Námo replied dismissively, "which will serve our purposes just as well."

The other two nodded. "The great unknown will be Aulendil," Oromë then said. "We do not know to what extent he has told Melkor about us, both our weaknesses and our strengths."

"I hope for all our sakes Aulë does not encounter his former Máya," Vairë said. "If we are to win this war we must all remaine focused on Melkor."

"Easier said than done, I’m afraid," Oromë commented with a frown.

"Aulë knows what is at stake here," Námo said. "He will not let himself be sidetracked from our purpose."

"Yavanna will not let him, anyway," Vairë added and the other two smiled knowingly at that.

For some time silence stretched between the three of them. With their minds’ eyes they could see the host of the Ayanumuz setting forth from Amanaphelun, passing swiftly over the land bridge that separated it from the Outer Lands. It was indeed a spectacle.

In the forefront strode Eönwë as Manwë’s herald, holding aloft a large dark blue banner with the sigil of the Ayanumuz upon it: a representation of the Flame Imperishable ringed by fourteen diamonds that glittered coldly under the stars. The red and gold flames seemingly flickered in reality, though they burned cold rather than hot. Behind Eönwë were Manwë and Varda and their Máyar. Ilmarë carried the banner of Varda with her single eight-pointed star while Olórin carried Manwë’s personal standard of an eagle with wings spread. The other Ayanumuz were ranged behind them, each of their Chief Máyar holding aloft their lord or lady’s personal standard. Even Námo’s, Vairë’s and Oromë’s standards were there. Námo’s standard was carried by Maranwë’s brother in Atar’s Thought, Tiutalion, while Vairë’s was carried by Ingil of the People of Irmo. Oromë’s standard was held by his own Máya, Tilion, who volunteered to remain with Lady Vána’s company so as not to be parted from Arien. All knew that he was somewhat besotted of her, though she had eyes only for another. Oromë decided that it would be better to allow Tilion to be close to Arien rather than moping in the mountains.

The host of the Ayanumuz made their way into the Outer Lands, with several companies under the leadership of Tulkas and Irmo splitting off from the main host and heading southward towards Angamando, while the rest continued eastward towards Utumno. However, before the two groups were completely separated, Melkor came forth, meeting them on a plain some leagues from the gates of Utumno. The banners of the enemy were black with no sigils, a telling sign to the Ayanumuz.

Melkor’s fire-demons led by Cosmoco attacked first, their fire whips leaving trails of flame behind them as they struck. The counterattack was swift and brutal. Eönwë handed the banner of the Ayanumuz over to Nornoros and led the onslaught into Melkor’s front line. Swords of light and flame clashed and the earth trembled and groaned under the weight of the Powers at war. Even though all remained incarnate and their weapons were primarily of the physical kind, the earth was still rent with upheavals that changed the landscape forever. Fissures opened up and quakes spread across the continent. The Great Sea that sundered Aman from the Outer Lands widened and tidal waves carved many bays along the western seacoast. Plains were raised into mountains and mountains were leveled into plains.

Melkor’s forces initially had the upper hand and it seemed that the Ayanumuz’s forces would be routed before they were properly employed for battle, but Námo had already planned for that. He turned to Maranwë who stood behind him and nodded. "Raise the standard, Maranwë," he commanded and the Máya unfurled the standard, black with a sigil of the Two Trees wrought in silver and gold. Oromë looked surprised at first but then nodded in approval.

"You never intended to just sit by and do nothing, did you?" he asked Námo, giving him a shrewd look.

Námo shook his head. "Actually, neither I nor Vairë were content to remain on the sidelines, although I suspect that was what Manwë planned, knowing that we two had the greatest grievance against Melkor."

"He wanted to protect you from yourselves," Oromë said with a nod of understanding.

Námo’s grin was feral. "He forgot one thing."

"What was that?"

It was Vairë though who answered. "He forgot that we don’t need protection. We never did. Atar was always with us even in the darkest of times."

"And so we will join in the fight," Námo added. "Melkor will not be expecting an attack from behind." He gave Oromë a measuring look. "Are you with us, brother?"

Oromë did not answer immediately, gazing northwestward to where their brethren fought against Melkor’s demons. Then a slow smile crossed his visage as he turned his attention back to Námo. "Actually, I thought you would never ask. Naehaerra!" he cried and the great horse came and Oromë leapt upon his back. "For Atar and the Children!" he called out and then raised his great horn to his lips and blew.

The sound of it echoed across the land, building in volume until it rang through the very cosmos. Far to the east at Cuiviénen, the Quendi looked up in wonder at the sound and the unclad Máyar protecting them shouted in joy and raised a paean of praise for Atar and the Children, though only Atar heard it.

"For Atar and the Children!" all the Máyar under Námo, Vairë and Oromë shouted and then with Oromë on Naehaerra leading them, they marched swiftly towards the front singing and their song was both terrible and beautiful to hear:

"Hendunya ecénier alcar tuliëo Ataro:

et vantëas i-limpë yassen i-yávi ormëo mandossen;

elencies i-atalantëa nárë aica linta macileryo.

Etelelyëalmë.

     Alcar, alcar, á lait’ Atar!

     Alcar, alcar, á lait’ Atar!

     Alcar, alcar, á lait’ Atar!

     Atar etelelyëa.

Et alámies i-romba ya ú-rámuva ‘nanwen’;

satëas órimma epë mahalmarya námiëo:

Ai, na linta, fëanya, nanquentien Sé! N’ alassëa, talunya!

Etelelyëalmë.

     Alcar, alcar, á lait’ Atar!

     Alcar, alcar, á lait’ Atar!

     Alcar, alcar, á lait’ Atar!

     Atar etelelyëa.

Túlas ve alcar arino falmassë,

Se Nóm Aldaronna, Se Estel Vorondannar,

Si’ Eä nauva sarassë ar fëa Lúmëo núrorya.

Etelelyëalmë.

     Alcar, alcar, á lait’ Atar!

     Alcar, alcar, á lait’ Atar!

     Alcar, alcar, á lait’ Atar!

     Atar etelelyëa."

As the song swelled to a crescendo, they came upon the battle scene and Melkor’s forces looked upon them in dismay. The host of the Ayanumuz gave a great shout at the sight of the reinforcements as Oromë on Naehaerra plowed into the ranks of the enemy and swept all aside. Námo and Vairë followed behind and the fell light of doom that emanated from Námo’s eyes was too terrible to behold. Melkor, who had not led his troops but had remained in the rear, allowing Aulendil to take the vanguard, looked upon Námo and quailed before his nemesis and was the first to flee the field, rushing towards Utumno. At the sight of their master escaping, his minions followed him, for the way to Angamando was now blocked. Both Tulkas and Oromë pursued Melkor unto the very gates of Utumno while Námo and Vairë greeted Manwë and Varda in the midst of the battle that still raged, for Aulendil had not fled but rallied some of his troops, making a valiant effort to break the siege, eventually escaping towards the fastness of Angamando.

Manwë was the first to speak as Námo and Vairë saluted him. "I thought you were going to keep out of it."

"That is what you wanted, wasn’t it?" Námo enquired. "You wanted us out of the way."

Manwë had the grace to look abashed. "I did not want either of you to seek vengeance."

"For ourselves?" Námo retorted without heat.

Manwë stared at them both with grave sympathy. "No. For the Children."

Námo and Vairë both gasped at the implication of Manwë’s words. "You knew," was all Námo could say, looking at Manwë and Varda, both of whom nodded. For several minutes the four of them stood there in silence as the battle raged around them with Eönwë leading the pursuit of Aulendil and his forces.

Finally, Námo nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly for himself and Vairë, but what exactly he was thanking them for, even he could not have said.

And then the battle was over. Melkor was safely hiding behind the gates of Utumno while Aulendil just made it into Angamando before Eönwë could capture him. The host of the Ayanumuz was now camped outside the gates of both fortresses and the Siege of the North had begun.

****

Tulwi Ainuron Etelelyar: ‘The Standards of the Ayanumuz Go Forth’.

Hrávë: Flesh.

Historical Note: The Third Council of Manwë occurred in VY4586. The Ayanumuz spent approximately 38 solar years in preparation for their faring forth in VY4590. The Siege of Utumno began in VY4592.

Semi-literal translation of the Marching Song of the Máyar:

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of Atar:

He is trampling out the wine where the fruits of wrath are in safe-keeping;

He has loosed the ruinous fire of his terrible swift sword.

We are going forth.

     Glory, glory, praise Atar!

     Glory, glory, praise Atar!

     Glory, glory, praise Atar!

     Atar is going forth.

He has sounded out the trumpet which will not sound ‘return’;

He is setting aside [for a special purpose] our hearts before His throne of Judgment:

Oh be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be joyous, my [two] feet!

We are going forth!

     Glory, glory, praise Atar!

     Glory, glory, praise Atar!

     Glory, glory, praise Atar!

     Atar is going forth.

He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave,

He is Wisdom to the Lord of Trees [i.e. Oromë], He is Hope unto the Steadfast in Allegiance [i.e. Námo and Vairë],

Thus Eä will be His footstool and the soul of Time His servant.

     We are going forth!

     Glory, glory, praise Atar!

     Glory, glory, praise Atar!

     Glory, glory, praise Atar!

     Atar is going forth.

These are adaptations of the first, fourth, and sixth stanzas of ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic’ though obviously the tune is not the same.

52: The Siege of Utumno

"This is taking longer than I think any of us anticipated," Oromë commented to Námo as they surveyed the plain before the gates of Utumno.

Námo nodded, his expression grim. "We have been at it for five years already," he said. "Melkor’s strongholds are nearly impregnable."

"‘Nearly’ being the operative word," Aulë said as he came up to them. "All things made from the Matter of Atháraphelun can eventually be broken though it may take time."

"Time we are fast running out of," Námo said. "The Children...."

"Are safe enough where they are," Oromë interjected. "You know this. How long has it been since any of them came to your Halls?"

Námo grimaced. He had been reluctant to tell any of them about what had been happening within his Halls until Manwë and Varda insisted, saying that the time was meet for the others to hear the truth. There had been exclamations of surprise that quickly turned to fury at what Melkor had wrought and that fury had sustained them through the long siege.

"It’s been some time," he admitted somewhat reluctantly. "I think whatever creatures Melkor has fashioned can no longer be numbered among Atar’s Children. None of those whom we have killed in the last few battles came to me."

"What do you suppose happened to their fëar then?" Aulë enquired.

Námo shrugged. "I am not sure. I think perhaps they simply dissipated or perhaps returned to their maker."

Both Aulë and Oromë gave him puzzled looks. "Think about it," Námo said. "Have you not felt it every time the gates of Utumno or Angamando open and Melkor’s forces pour out to attack us? The very ground beneath us trembles with power, a power not born of natural forces. I think our Fallen Brother has somehow imbued the very world with his essence."

The other two stared at him in disbelief for several minutes. Finally, Oromë spoke. "If that’s true, then all of Atháraphelun must be... marred by his evil, including Amanaphelun."

Námo nodded. "So I believe, though our powers mitigate the evil in our own lands. Still, it cannot be denied and the Children, born of the Matter of Atháraphelun, will suffer his taint to some degree or another, even if we ultimately defeat him."

"So you’re saying that these creatures that he has made...." Oromë began.

"Say rather the creatures he has corrupted to the point that they are no longer recognizable as Atar’s Children," Námo interjected. "Melkor cannot create anything, I deem. He has lost the Power of Song, so he can only corrupt what already exists."

Oromë nodded. "What I meant to say is that these creatures born of Atháraphelun are mere extensions of himself, with no real separate existence?"

"Perhaps not to the degree you speak," Aulë said. "My Children, when first I created them, had no separate existence from me, for they moved and spoke only as I directed them, yet I think that these creatures, and I really need to come up with a name for them...." He paused, his eyes unfocusing with deep thought. Námo and Oromë looked on with amusement.

"Perhaps you could think of a name later," Námo said gently. "You were saying?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry." Aulë actually blushed but continued his previous thought. "I think these creatures are rational beings, though severely limited in self-cognizance. They only do what they are told to do and nothing more. I don’t think even Melkor could consciously control them all."

The other two nodded. "Well, it’s an interesting discussion," Oromë said, "but it doesn’t solve the one problem we have, namely, getting inside these fortresses and putting an end to this war."

"A way will be found," Námo said. "Atar would not have enjoined us to go to war at this time if he did not believe we would ultimately succeed."

Aulë nodded. "Yes, that is true... ah... I do believe the next battle is about to begin." He pointed to where the iron gates of Angamando were slowly opening. "Who wants to bet that Melkor will be sending out his own troops while our backs are turned?" He gave the other two a wicked grin and they both laughed.

"You go play with Aulendil’s troops, brother," Námo said, "We’ll keep an eye on Melkor’s."

Aulë merely nodded again, his expression already turning deadly as he contemplated the enemy ranged against them. His former Chief Máya did not have as many forces as his master but that was not to say they were any less effective. If anything, they seemed more dangerous than Melkor’s creatures. With a roar, Aulendil’s troops poured out of the gates, clashing with the waiting Máyar. Aulë thought his largest hammer into existence and waded into the fray, using the weapon to good effect, flinging Úmáyar and lesser creatures right and left in an attempt to reach the gates themselves.

As predicted, no sooner had the Ayanumuz turned their attention on Angamando (though they had learned the hard way not to do so fully) then the gates of Utumno opened and out poured Cosmoco and his troops. Námo, true to his word to Aulë, along with Oromë, had kept an eye on Utumno, directing his own People not to engage the enemy pouring out of Angamando, but to wait upon their lord’s command. Long experience had taught these Máyar not to question Námo’s directives, trusting that their lord knew what he was about.

Cosmoco proved the greater threat this time around, and they realized that Aulendil’s foray was meant to be a diversion. Námo arranged his Máyar along a line midway between the two fortresses, while Oromë’s People took the vanguard this time. Manwë ordered most of the other Máyar to keep Aulendil’s forces occupied, pretending that they thought Angamando more dangerous than Utumno at the moment. The fact that the Ayanumuz had learned to change their strategies so sometimes they seemed to be falling for Melkor’s tricks and sometimes not, made them less predictable than Melkor probably hoped. Their Fallen Brother’s own strategies were woefully limited and ultimately self-defeating.

"He’s not learned the lessons of warfare we have garnered over the long ages," Varda had said at one point. "It seems his own fixations do not allow for innovation."

"Which should work in our favor," Manwë had commented. "It is a flaw we need to exploit."

"Just as long as we don’t allow him to exploit any of our own flaws," Námo had rejoined with a wry grin.

The others only nodded, well aware that they were no less prone to stupidity than their Fallen Brother. "And there’s only one of him and fourteen of us," Ulmo had reminded them, and so they were careful in how they conducted the war and themselves, keeping focused and not allowing the taunts and barbs of the enemy to move them.

It was not an easy thing to do and some of the Máyar were more prone to allow their emotions to run high, though Námo’s own troops were unmoved. The fire of their fury burned cold, and that made them even more dangerous, for they attacked their foes with a preternatural calm that was almost frightening to see. To make matters worse (for Melkor’s forces), Námo’s People had the unnerving habit of singing as they joined in combat and their songs were terrible to hear. Even some of the other Máyar would pause in their battles, stunned by the force of power generated by Námo’s People as they slew their enemies for the sake of the Lost Ones, now safely sleeping in their lord’s Halls.

"Steady now," Námo said as he watched Oromë lead the attack against Cosmoco and the other fire-demons, whom the Children would one day call Balrogs, a glint of his own fire shining through his eyes. Oromë was angry, though few would have guessed from the calm way in which he met his foe. Cosmoco had gotten the better of him some time before, when he had made a major miscalculation in strategy and had been trapped by the fire-demon and his cohorts. Roimendil had nearly been destroyed in the process trying to come to his lord’s aid and Oromë had been hard-pressed to rescue him and get them both to safety. The Ayanuz had been both furious at his own folly and fearful for his Máya and it had taken Irmo and Námo some time to calm him down and allow Estë to tend to Roimendil. The Máya was still recovering a year later, but Estë had assured Oromë that he had not suffered any lasting harm. Since then, Oromë had become more cautious but no less deadly. Cosmoco had, in fact, learned to fear this particular Ayanuz greatly.

Indeed, at the sight of the Ayanuz stalking him, Cosmoco sent his underlings before him in an attempt to avoid Oromë. Rushirithir, now mostly healed of the wounds inflicted on him by Námo, took the lead, along with one whom they learned had renamed himself Yelur, for he loved cold above all else and reveled in it. Although the hröar of the Ayanumuz and Máyar were stronger and more resilient than those of the Quendi, they could still suffer from extreme temperatures. They had learned to be as wary of the Úmáyar who wielded ice as much as those who wielded flame.

Námo watched with clinical detachment as the enemy advanced. "Maranwë, take half your troops and come round to Oromë’s left flank," he instructed. "That’s where the main attack will come."

Maranwë didn’t bother even bowing but gestured to several of his forces and did as Námo had bid. Meanwhile, Námo was giving further orders to his remaining troops. "When the enemy strikes, I want the rest of you to move to the center line and reinforce Oromë’s People there. Ignore the right flank; I’ll deal with that. Just hold the center and keep Cosmoco’s forces occupied."

Aicatirno, who was Maranwë’s second, nodded and gave Hurinórenámo, his brother in Atar’s Thought, a feral grin which Hurinórenámo returned. These two were counted among the deadliest of Námo’s troops, all the more so because they alone did not sing in battle but remained impassive and implacable in their resolve to see the enemy annihilated. Even as the Máyar were readying themselves for the upcoming encounter, Yelur moved away from the center without warning, leading several of his own troops to strike at Oromë’s left flank, just as Námo had predicted. At once Aicatirno raised his sword and immediately he and the remaining Máyar were heading into the fray to hold the center. That left the right flank still seemingly vulnerable.

Námo watched as Cosmoco tried to sneak around his own minions towards the right flank, most likely with the intention of striking Oromë personally while the Ayanuz was too busy fighting off the other fire-demons. For all Cosmoco’s cowardice at times, he was a formidable enemy, second only to Aulendil in Melkor’s councils from what the Ayanumuz could deduce. He was not to be taken lightly, but Námo had no real fear of him. Pretending to be too engrossed in the battle along the left flank to notice Cosmoco’s surreptitious advance, Námo bided his time, waiting for just the right moment.

Then an unholy roar rent the air, startling everyone, Námo included, who turned at the sound to see that Aulë had nearly reached the gates of Angamando, obviously intent on taking the fortress, only to be stymied at the last moment when Aulendil’s troops (those left standing and not too far from the gates themselves) suddenly ran back into the fortress at some unspoken signal. The iron gates shut with a finality that was almost taunting and Aulë was left standing before them, his expression one of absolute white fury. He roared again in frustration, pounding the gates with his massive hammer but to no avail. Melkor had made sure that nothing could destroy those gates, not even the wrath of the Ayanumuz.

"Námo, behind you!" he heard Oromë shout.

Námo turned around just in time to see Cosmoco’s whip come rushing at him but with no time to deflect or avoid it. Fire, both cold and blazing, swept across his hröa and he let out an involuntary scream as he was driven to his knees by the pain. His eyesight dimmed somewhat and his breathing became ragged as he struggled to remain conscious. Another lash of the whip struck him and he screamed again. There was the sound of laughter, cold and cruel and relishing the pain that was being inflicted, and Námo suddenly found himself, not on the frozen plain before Utumno, but in a dark cave on a nameless planet and Rushirithir was standing before him smiling as he licked the end of his whip, a whip red with Námo’s blood.

The Ayanuz felt disoriented, unsure what was happening, only knowing that he was in pain, pain laced with fear and shame at what had been done to him, what was still being done to him. His fëa shuddered at these thoughts. Then, Rushirithir stepped back and raised his whip again and Námo started screaming before the lash ever landed, unable to stop...

"Námo! NÁMO!!"

He tried to shrug off the hands that held him, sure that they meant to drag him away to some place darker and more dreadful than the cave, but he was unable to prevent them and his screams did not stop. Pain engulfed him and the memory held him in thrall. It was some time before his mind registered the fact that someone was gently caressing him, soothing him, whispering words of comfort and love, as his screams faded into whimpers. The touch of the other reminded him of an earlier time and he felt a shudder run through him at the dreadful thought that he was once again in Melkor’s hands.

"Open your eyes, Námo," came the voice and it took Námo precious seconds to realize that they belonged not to his hated torturer but to....

"Va-vairë," he whispered as he opened his eyes to see his beloved staring down at him with an expression of deep concern mixed with abiding love. She smiled and it was as if a hundred suns had gone nova and Námo felt his hröa relax into her embrace.

"Welcome back, my love," she said as she leaned down and kissed his lips. He felt too exhausted to respond but it was as a balm to his fëa and their bond helped strengthen him and the pain he had been feeling ebbed somewhat to a more manageable level.

"Wh-what happened?" he asked, half fearful of the answer. "I.. I thought I was healed." He felt tears come unbidden and he turned his head to hide his shame.

"Hush," Vairë said, reaching down and forcing him to look at her. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, my love. Cosmoco’s attack simply took your mind to an earlier time. It was naught but a memory."

"It was so real," he said forlornly. "I was there... all over again."

"But only in your mind."

Námo looked up to see his brother kneeling next to them. Irmo placed a hand on Námo’s forehead and began to gently rub it, sending soothing thoughts that had Námo actually sighing with relief from the tension and pain he had not realized he was holding within him.

"You had an episode, a flashback, you might say," Irmo explained. "The unexpectedness of the attack simply surprised you and it brought back a particular memory, unpleasant no doubt, but a memory only. It was not real."

"So you say," Námo retorted, unconvinced.

"So I say," Irmo echoed with a decisive nod.

"Will it happen again?" Vairë asked worriedly.

Irmo shrugged. "As to that, I do not know. All I will say is this," and here he looked pointedly at his older brother, "You are as healed as you are ever going to be, Námo. That does not mean that you are as you were before these things happened to you. You are who you are because of what happened to you. Accept that and embrace it and learn from it. There may be moments such as this one when the memories return in full force, but learn to recognize them as memories that can no longer harm you and I think you will do well enough."

"Not very comforting," Námo said with a huff.

Irmo’s expression turned sorrowful. "I’m sorry, Námo. I wish I could be more positive in my prognosis, but the truth of the matter is, this is all new to me as well, and I’m still groping for answers."

Now Námo was chagrined and reached up and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. "I am sorry, Irmo. I did not mean to disparage your honest efforts to help me through this. You are correct. I am who I am today because of what I endured. Sometimes I wish I could go back to that naive and innocent Ayanuz I was when we first came into Eä but looking back I realize that in the long run, I much prefer who I am now to what I once was."

Irmo’s expression lightened and he bent down and gave Námo a brief kiss on his brow. "I think I like you better now than before, as well."

Námo raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Irmo nodded, his expression turning sly. "You’re much easier to live with now that you’re espoused."

"Why you..." Námo attempted to punch Irmo in the arm for that but his brother slipped just out of his reach with a laugh and stood up.

"See that he rests for a time, my sister," he directed to Vairë, then gave his brother a fond smile before moving away, presumably to check on any other wounded.

Námo looked up at Vairë. "Is the battle over?"

She nodded. "Yes. The enemy has slunk back into their bolt-holes again."

"What happened after I... I...."

"Aulë saw what was happening and came to your rescue."

Námo grimmaced. "Aulë’s cry of frustration distracted me, otherwise...."

"Well, it’s over with," his wife said with a decisive sniff. "Blaming Aulë or yourself or whoever will not change what happened."

Námo gave her a surprised look. "I do not blame Aulë. I blame Melkor... for all of this." He struggled up into a sitting position to find that he was back in the encampment of the Ayanumuz, a ring of his and Vairë’s Máyar surrounding them. The Máyar faced outward and it was obvious they had taken upon themselves to form this guard of their lord and lady while said lord recovered from the attack. Vairë gave him an amused look at his expression.

"I didn’t have the heart to dismiss them," she whispered and he nodded, knowing full well that he would have not been able to do so either had their positions been reversed. He looked about and spied his Chief Máya. "Maranwë," he called as he stood, accepting Vairë’s aid, for he still felt weak and disoriented.

The Máya turned, his expression both glad and worried. "My lord! You are well?"

Námo nodded. "Yes. I am well, or rather I will be soon enough."

Then Maranwë did something unexpected, as did all the other Máyar who had turned around when Námo had called Maranwë’s name. Almost as one they knelt, laying their swords or other weapons before them.

Námo gave Vairë a puzzled look but Vairë just shrugged, no more enlightened than he. He turned back to Maranwë. "Would you care to explain... this?" He gestured to the ring of Máyar on their knees.

Maranwë did not look up. "We failed you, lord," he whispered dejectedly. "None of us could reach you in time. Only Lord Aulë...."

Námo had heard enough. "And so what do you want me to do about it?" he asked somewhat coldly.

That brought the heads of all the Máyar up, their expressions one of confusion. "We... we failed..." Maranwë reiterated but Námo cut him off with a gesture.

"Only when I say you have, my children," he interjected, his expression still cold, determined to stop this abject nonsense before it went too much further. He did not need to look at Vairë to know she was doing her level best to hide her amusement. He was afraid if he did he would start laughing and ruin everything. "Now stand up all of you and returned to your posts. I rather doubt I’m in danger of attack in the midst of our own encampment. Maranwë stay."

The Chief Máya stuttered to a halt while his fellows all rushed away after giving their lord and lady their obeisance. Only when the three of them were alone did Námo dare give Vairë a glance. She gave him a brief smile of encouragement. Then he turned his attention to the Máya standing there in stoical silence, apparently expecting a severe reprimand. Námo decided not to disappoint him.

"The next time any of you start crawling about the ground in abject pity for imagined dereliction of duty," he said as sternly as possible, "you’re going to wish you had fallen into Melkor’s hands rather than mine." He paused for a few heartbeats to let that thought sink in. Maranwë’s face paled almost to white at the implications of his lord’s words. Námo nodded, satisfied that he had gotten his message across. "Did you keep the left flank protected?" Maranwë could only nod. "Did the others hold the center as I had directed?" Námo continued his interrogation. Again Maranwë nodded, unable to articulate verbally any response because of the shock he was feeling. Námo nodded as well. "Then all of you were doing as I had commanded, therefore none of you failed me. You may tell your fellows what I have just told you. Go."

For a second Maranwë just stood there, rooted in indecision, but then he gathered himself together and gave the two Ayanumuz his obeisance before turning and fairly running from their presence. Silence ensued for a moment or two before Vairë gave her beloved a hug. "A bit overdone, dear, but I think they got the message."

He gave her a warm smile. "One can only hope." He staggered slightly, his head beginning to spin with the effort of keeping upright. Suddenly, he felt strong arms embracing him and looking up saw Oromë there along with Manwë, their expressions one of concern, though there was a hint of amusement lurking in Oromë’s eyes.

"I understand you gave your Máyar a talking to that would have done Varda proud," he said, stealing a glance at Manwë, who only chuckled.

"They were being foolish...."

"They were being Máyar," Manwë interrupted, "who live for the sole purpose of serving us. When you went down they thought they had been remiss in their oaths to you. You cannot blame them for that."

"Nor do I," Námo said, "but I won’t have them beat themselves up over something none of us foresaw."

Manwë nodded. "I’ve had a similar conversation with Aulë."

Námo gave the Eldest a surprised look. Manwë nodded. "He’s feeling a bit guilty that his own fury distracted you when it did, which is why he’s not here tendering his apologies to you. He’s actually hiding."

"Oh?" was all Námo could say.

Oromë answered, giving him a wide — and to Námo’s mind, wicked — grin. "Somewhere in those hills to our north. Says he’s too ashamed to face you or anyone else at the moment."

Námo rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I have to wonder who’s older, him or me."

Manwë and Oromë laughed and Vairë sniggered. "Come, Little Brother," Oromë said, stressing the epithet and giving the others a wink, "why don’t we go see if we can cheer him up."

Námo nodded, glancing at Vairë with an unspoken question in his eyes. She merely leaned up and gave him a brief but loving kiss on his cheek. "Go, beloved, and give Aulë your assurance that in spite of his... gaffe... you still love him."

Manwë chuckled. "And when you have convinced him to come out of hiding, we will have a council of war, for this siege has gone on far too long and I would see it end sooner rather than later."

"When?" Oromë asked.

"The next First Mingling will occur in about four hours," Manwë stated. "We will convene the council then."

Both Námo and Oromë nodded. Though the Light of the Trees was not visible to them here in the Outer Lands, they all knew what the hour was. "We will bring him," Námo said simply and then he and Oromë left to find their brother Ayanuz.

****

Yelur: (Quenya) ‘Cold One’. In later ages he would style himself Helcaran ‘Ice King’.

53: Forces of Nature

Námo and Oromë reached the low set of hills that bordered the plain to the north. These were bare of anything except moss and stone, desolate under starlight. Oromë shouted, his words echoing through the hills. "All right, Aulë. We know you are here. Come on out."

When the final echo died away, silence remained. The two Ayanumuz exchanged exasperated looks and then Námo called out. "Aulë! If I have to level this entire range of hills to find you I will. Now stop sulking and show yourself."

The echoes faded and then there was a sigh that was nowhere and everywhere and Aulë stood before them, looking downcast and refusing to meet their gazes. Námo narrowed his eyes. "Look at me, brother," he commanded and such was the force of his words that even Oromë gasped involuntarily. Aulë stared at him, his eyes clouded with shame and regret.

"I’m sorry...." he started to say but Námo took him into his embrace and hugged him.

"I know you are," he said quietly. "I place no blame upon you for what happened."

"I distracted you...."

"I allowed myself to be distracted," Námo interjected, giving his fellow Ayanuz a shake. "Now, enough of this wallowing in self-pity. I didn’t let my Máyar get away with it, I’m not about to let you get away with it, either."

Aulë stole a glance at Oromë as if seeking confirmation of Námo’s words. Oromë nodded. "Manwë has called for a council of war to begin with the next First Mingling," he said. "I think you need to pull yourself together and focus on that. Námo, as you can see, is fine, or as fine as he will ever be... now that he’s wedded to Vairë." This last was said with a sly smile and Aulë chuckled. Námo just rolled his eyes but made no further comment.

"Well, in that case," Aulë replied, looking more his cheerful self, "I suppose we should get back to the encampment. We don’t want to keep Manwë waiting."

"No, we do not," Námo agreed and the three of them made their way back with Oromë and Aulë taking turns giving Námo completely useless and contradictory advice about how to be a proper spouse to Vairë. Námo remained silent, paying them no heed, having his own ideas on that score.

****

The Ayanumuz gathered around Manwë in the center of the encampment while the Máyar kept watch on the enemy fortresses. "We need to break this leaguer," Manwë said without preamble. "This siege has gone on for too long."

"Utumno and Angamando are heavily fortified," Aulë said with a sigh. "I fear that Melkor has dug deep into the earth. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that there is a passageway connecting the two strongholds. Their attacks are too coordinated. Somehow messages are being sent and received between Utumno and Angamando."

They nodded, realizing the truth of Aulë’s words.

"Is there aught that we can do, though?" Námo asked, addressing Aulë. "You said that all things made from the Matter of Atháraphelun can eventually be broken, though it may take time. Did you have an idea about that or were you simply expressing a hope?"

"A fair question," Aulë answered, stroking his golden-red beard. "I may have simply been thinking out loud at that point, but my words are true nonetheless. Utumno and Angamando are built from the bones of Atháraphelun and we all know that Atháraphelun is not eternal, so eventually they will decay and disintegrate. That is the nature of things in Eä."

"Can we use that to our advantage, though?" Manwë asked. "Melkor may believe his fortress impregnable and that flaw in his thinking may be our saving grace. We have tried brute force to destroy these strongholds and we have done nothing more than to change the face of the continent and the width of the Seas."

"Námo mentioned that the earth trembles under our feet with a power not born of natural forces," Oromë stated. "He thinks the very earth is imbued with Melkor’s essence."

Several of the Ayanumuz gave Námo surprised looks that then turned thoughtful. Manwë nodded. "I have felt that as well. Perhaps we can counteract these... unnatural forces with more natural ones."

"How do you mean?" Tulkas asked, and his face wasn’t the only one marred by confusion.

"Perhaps we should allow the earth to fight for us," Manwë answered. "I noticed that further north of this plain are glaciers. Could we not use them to break through the fastness of Utumno? Little can stand in the way of the inexorable power of all that ice."

There were several raised eyebrows at that, but then Aulë shook his head. "It would take years to bring them here," he said. "They barely move a finger’s length in a tenth of a year. I don’t see how we can force them to move faster."

"What about the Sea?" Ulmo suggested. "As you pointed out, Manwë, the face of the continent has altered radically, especially along the coast. There’s a deep inlet not far from here. We can construct a channel and bring the water inland to flood the plain and ultimately Utumno."

"Rather obvious, don’t you think?" Vána asked. "Melkor is sure to try to sabotage the project in some way."

"It could be used as a diversion though," Varda suggested.

"While we are doing what exactly?" Yavanna asked, her tone more puzzled than sarcastic.

Námo spoke before Varda could answer. "Bringing in reinforcements."

They all looked at him with various degrees of confusion, and in some cases, exasperation. "Care to elaborate?" Manwë asked with a wry grin.

"We’re looking in the wrong direction for help," Námo said. "Atháraphelun is more than just this world. I suggest we look up."

Almost instinctively they did and cast their minds out into space. Námo directed their attention to a particular set of coordinates and then there was a collective gasp from them all. "You’re not serious!" Tulkas demanded.

"Do you have a better idea?" Námo rejoined.

Before Tulkas could answer, Varda laughed. "I think it’s a wonderful idea." Her expression suddenly turned feral. "In fact, I think I will enjoy this immensely."

Most of the others stared at the Star-Queen in shock, but Manwë merely sighed, resigned to his spouse’s... moods, while Námo stood there nodding, his expression almost as savage as hers.

"So be it," Manwë said at the last. "Ulmo, Aulë, start digging. Varda, my love, I’d let you do the honors, but since Námo came up with the idea...."

Varda nodded. "He can pick one out and I’ll do the rest." She gave Námo a fierce grin which he returned.

Vairë stared at the two of them, shaking her head. "I think you two are having more fun than any Ayanuz should be allowed to have."

That caused several of them to snicker as the council broke up. Ulmo, Aulë and Manwë began discussing logistics while Námo and Varda were having a friendly argument over the relative merits of the various celestial objects that might serve their purpose.

****

In the end it was decided that they would use two of the asteroids that had once been the planet Námo and Vairë had created. Neither were very large as such things went, but allowing for loss of mass due to friction as they entered the atmosphere, they would still be large enough to create a sizeable crater without necessarily causing severe damage to the biosphere.

"Poetic justice if there ever was any," Irmo said to his brother when Námo told them what he and Varda had decided upon.

Námo nodded. "Vairë thinks so as well. We’re going to nudge these two rocks just a bit so that they eventually make their way in-system. It’ll take a couple of years for them to cover the distance."

"Why so long?" Irmo asked.

"We don’t want Melkor to become suspicious in case he has people keeping an eye on the skies."

"Why would he even bother?" Estë retorted, having heard the conversation while she was tending to one of the Máyar belonging to Tulkas and Vána who had suffered a minor injury during the last engagement.

"It’s better to be safe than sorry, I suppose," Námo said, "and we need to give Ulmo and Aulë time to make the channel they’re digging convincing enough to distract Melkor from our real intent."

"No reason why it can’t be used eventually to flood Utumno once we breach it," Irmo said with a shrug.

Námo nodded. "Assuming Melkor lets them get that far." The other two nodded.

****

Ulmo’s Canal, as the Máyar were calling it, began to take shape. It began further to the northwest where a great bay swept several leagues inland. Ulmo’s People began digging a deep cleft into the ground several feet from the shore of the inlet to a depth that was well below the sea bed at that point.

"We’ll create a cataract," Salmar, Ulmo’s Chief Máya, told his brethren once the plans were finalized, "which will give more force to the flood as it runs its course."

"Do you really think that Melkor is going to allow us to dig this channel all the way to his front door?" Oshosai asked skeptically even as he continued to move the hard earth away along with the other Máyar.

Salmar shrugged. "That remains to be seen. At any rate, it is what we have been commanded to do and so we will do it. Lord Ulmo said to make it look convincing." He flashed them a wicked smile. "I was thinking of lining it with marble."

That brought a laugh from them all. "While we’re at it," Oshosai said, grinning mischievously, "we should construct vessels to float on the water. I’m sure our masters would enjoy a pleasure cruise after this war is over."

That got them all laughing more loudly than before and several of the Máyar began to discuss the type of vessels that would be the best for their masters to travel on, while still others argued over whether they wouldn’t prefer some other material with which to line the canal, even going so far as to call in some of Aulë’s People for consultation. The Ayanumuz, when they heard what was being discussed just shook their heads in amusement and continued with their own plans for Melkor’s eventual downfall.

****

"’Ware!"

That was from one of the sentries keeping an eye on Utumno and Angamando. Several of the Máyar working away at the canal looked up to see a sight that was quite new to them. Many of them just stood there with their mouths gaping in disbelief. Flying towards them was a dark shape, long and sinewy, its wingspan easily several hundred feet, with a tail that was nearly as long.

"What is that?" Uinen whispered.

As if in answer, the creature suddenly screamed and fire belched out of its mouth, forcing the Máyar to scatter. One or two of the slower ones were caught in the flames and their screams were terrible to hear. Immediately, several of Irmo and Estë’s People were there, bringing snow with them taken from the nearest glacier to cover the hröar of the victims. Others, including the Ayanumuz, were calling forth weapons as the creature banked suddenly to the right and swung around for another attack. In spite of its size, it moved with a deadly grace that was almost beautiful to see. No one bothered to comment on that beauty.

In spite of the lack of any flammable material in the area, fires were springing up wherever the creature’s flames struck the ground. It was almost as if the balefire could burn anything.

"Ulmo!" Manwë shouted. "We need more snow and water to douse these flames." Ulmo nodded and together the two Ayanumuz called forth their powers and soon clouds were forming, hiding both stars and the flying horror. Lightning flashed as the thunder heads grew and then a sudden torrential rain swept down upon them, rain mixed with snow and soon the fires were sizzling out.

The creature, in the meantime, was still attacking their encampment, but now hampered by the rain and snow, its effectiveness was diminished. Several of Manwë’s Máyar, led by Fionwë and Olórin, attempted to bring the creature down with spears made with crystal points, crystals of Aulë’s special making. Some of the spears hit their mark but bounced off. They did nothing save to enrage the creature even more.

"It’s plated with fire-resistant scales, I think," Aulë said, his eyes narrowing as he watched the creature bank again and then come towards them belching fire. "The wings, I deem, are its most vulnerable parts. They look to be formed of a thin membrane. Tear the wings and it will bring it down and then perhaps we can destroy it."

Manwë nodded and ordered the Máyar to aim for the wings. At once a dozen or so spears pierced the sky, most of them tearing straight through the wings. The creature screamed as it struggled to remain aloft, but the wings were so tattered that they were unable to hold it up and in seconds it crashed to the ground. The force of its fall caused the earth to tremble. Part of the canal caved in and everyone was thrown off their feet.

"It’s still alive!" Fionwë shouted and, taking up another spear, he and several other Máyar came at the creature from behind, for it was still spouting flames. The Máyar drove their spears between the plates covering its appendages, effectively pinning the creature to the ground, while Fionwë climbed its back and made his way forward along the ridge of its sinewy neck. He almost fell off once or twice but managed to catch himself in time. Finally, he reached the head, clinging with one hand to a head ridge as he drove his spear with all his might into the creature’s skull. It took several precious minutes for it to die, but it ceased to spout flame almost immediately as it flopped about. The Máyar continued to cling to their spears with grim determination until the last of its death throes ceased and all was still and silent once again.

The Ayanumuz gathered around the dead creature to examine it. "It seems our Fallen Brother has been rather busy of late," Varda commented drily. There were snorts of grim amusement all around.

Yavanna was examining it more closely than the others, her expression turning cold with fury. "He dares!"

"Easy now, love," Aulë said, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Melkor is ingenious if nothing else. We’ve already seen how he is able to corrupt and manipulate what was originally beautiful into something monstrous."

"I wonder if there are any more of these," Oromë mused.

"I sincerely hope not," Manwë answered with a sigh, "but I would not doubt that there are."

"We’ll have to keep an eye out for any others," Ulmo said. "Now I will go see how my Máyar are faring. Some of them were caught in that creature’s flames." He stalked away while the others remained where they were.

Finally, Manwë turned to Varda. "Is there any way to hurry those asteroids along?"

She shook her head. "It would be too suspicious looking if they suddenly veered from their trajectory and headed straight for us. We need to keep Melkor from looking up."

Manwë nodded, well aware of the truth of Varda’s words. "We will continue as before then." He turned to the Máyar who had brought the creature down. "Take what trophies you desire and then burn the carcass."

Fionwë bowed to his lord and the other Máyar began the grim task of reducing the creature’s body to ash.

****

When Ulmo enquired after his people, he was grieved to learn that Salmar had been one of the victims. "Will he recover?" he asked Estë.

"Yes, eventually," she answered. "I’ve put them all into healing sleep while their hröar regenerate."

"Why not allow them to disincarnate?" Ulmo asked as he gazed sorrowfully down at the charred bodies. Already there were signs of healing as the burned skin flaked off to reveal healthier skin underneath, though full regeneration would take time.

"If we did that I fear they will never want to incarnate again," Estë answered. "It’s best they come to terms with what happened to them on the physical level. It will be easier to deal with the psychological traumas that will follow."

Ulmo nodded. "Much the way Atar did with Námo."

"Exactly the same," Irmo said as he came to them. "In the end, I think the damage to their fëar will be more lasting than that done to their hröar."

"Thank you," Ulmo said with all sincerity.

Irmo smiled and gave his brother Ayanuz a hug. "It’s what we’re here for, Estë and I. Have no fear, your People will return to you whole."

Ulmo nodded. "That is all I ask. I will leave you to your charges while I go see to the damage done to the canal."

****

"We’ve been at this for more than a year now," Aulë said as the Ayanumuz gathered for another council. "How much longer do we play this game?"

"There have been fewer attacks of late, have you noticed?" Námo stated. "After that flying creature was destroyed Melkor did not send out any more troops for some time afterwards."

Manwë nodded. "I noticed that as well and the troops he did send out were fewer in number."

"Even Angamando has been silent of late," Oromë commented. "In fact we’ve seen nothing of Aulendil since he attempted to break the siege and make for Utumno and that was some tens of Minglings ago."

Aulë grunted, his expression darkening as it always did at the mention of his former servant. "Which at least told us that there is no connection between the two fortresses, otherwise there would have been no need for the sortie. I’m not sure what he thought to accomplish. He must have known it was doomed to failure from the very beginning."

Manwë shook his head. "We may never know. I would not discount the possibility that there isn’t some connection between Utumno and Angamando. It’s possible Aulendil’s ploy was diversionary to make us think there was no connection between the two strongholds."

There were nods all around. Then Manwë looked at Námo and Varda. "When?"

"Soon," Námo answered. "At the seventh rising of Menelmacar Melkor’s doom will be at hand."

Several of the Ayanumuz grinned with anticipation. Tulkas laughed. "And it cannot happen to a more deserving Ayanuz."

Some of them chuckled at their brother’s levity, but Manwë noticed that Námo was not one of them. Indeed, the Doomsman of Arda’s expression was grim beyond telling and Manwë wondered what he might be seeing at that moment. He started to ask but on reflection he decided that he really did not want to know.

****

"All right," Ulmo said several Minglings of the Lights later. "Here is where we’ve stopped digging." He was pointing to a map of the area that he had conjured before them. "That last attack on the canal was the excuse we needed to seemingly stop our endeavors. There’s only a short distance lying between the canal and Utumno’s gates. If we can direct one of the asteroids to impact at this precise angle" — he gestured before him and a string of variables in greenish-blue light flashed before them — "that will cause the wall here to collapse. My People will open up the sluice gates at the other end at the same time and the force of the flood should break into Utumno itself."

"The other asteroid will need to be a direct hit in order for this to work," Námo said as he took in the parameters Ulmo had shown them. "There needs to be a near simultaneous impact or this will not work." He gestured before him, calling up another string of variables glowing red. "At the moment both asteroids are on the other side of the black hole from us. It’s our intention to have them come in from the opposite direction of the planet’s orbit. We can adjust the angle of descent when they reach the upper atmosphere." He turned to Varda for confirmation and she nodded.

"I suggest we use the smaller of the asteroids to open the breach between Utumno and the canal while the larger one impacts Utumno directly. I think we can ensure that the two asteroids will impact within fifteen seconds of each other. Will that be simultaneous enough for you?" she asked Námo who nodded.

"Any closer," he answered, "and we run the risk of the two of them colliding in midair and we don’t want that."

"Then as soon as the asteroids reach atmosphere, I will order our Màyar to attack Angamando with a show of force that should be distracting enough that Melkor does not notice what’s above him," Manwë informed them.

"And if he opens his own gates to attack us from the rear," Aulë stated, "so much the better for us."

"How much longer?" Nessa asked.

"Menelmacar will rise soon," Varda said. "The next time after that will be the time."

****

At the next rising of Menelmacar, Manwë ordered the Máyar to attack Angamando, which they did with great enthusiasm, knowing that the end of the long siege was nearly in sight. As predicted, no sooner did the Máyar attack than the gates of Utumno opened and out poured Melkor’s troops, woefully decimated over the long years, but no less deadly. Oddly enough to the Ayanumuz’s way of thinking, none of the fire-demons appeared.

"He’s probably holding them back until the end," Manwë said. "Hopefully, they will prove ineffective against us at this late stage."

"As long as he doesn’t send another of those fire-belching flying creatures, I’ll be happy," Varda retorted.

"Here they come," Námo said, looking up and the others followed suit. Twin sparks of fire came hurtling down from the heavens right on schedule. "Hmm... the angle of the smaller asteroid is off by three seconds of arc."

"Too late to adjust it now," Varda said. "We’ll just have to hope that it’s not enough of a deviation to ruin all our plans."

They watched as Oromë directed some of the Máyar to engage the troops pouring out of Utumno while the rest continued their assault on the gates of Angamando. Several of Ulmo’s People were waiting at the inlet, ready to break open the sluice gates that had been constructed early on. Then they turned their eyes on the twin harbingers of doom fast approaching. At the last possible moment, Manwë signaled and Oromë blew the Valaróma even as Ulmo blew upon the Ulumúri. At once the Máyar battling with the Utumno troops broke off and instantly went incorporeal, thinking themselves away, even as all the Máyar before the gates of Angamando did as well. Then the Ayanumuz did the same, leaving Melkor’s troops standing there with befuddled looks, uncertain what to do next. A strange sound reached them and they instinctively glanced up. None of them had time to even scream before death reached them.

Unfortunately, the slight deviation of arc in the angle of descent for the first asteroid meant that the wall separating the canal from the gates of Utumno did not collapse as fully as planned. Nonetheless the Máyar opened up the sluice gates and the Sea poured into the narrow channel, rushing in a flood towards the other end. Even as the waters reached the wall and pounded against it, causing it to collapse somewhat, the second asteroid came screaming in, plunging directly into Utumno, an incandescent ball of fire that shook the earth to its very foundations.

Fissures opened up and the waters in the canal streamed forth in other directions so they proved less effective than they had hoped but one such fissure ran nearly to the gates of Angamando, effectively blocking it.

"That should keep Aulendil occupied for a time," Aulë muttered in satisfaction even as he turned his attention back to the destruction wrought by the two asteroids. The plain all around them was buckled and broken and Utumno itself was unroofed, its gates hanging open at odd angles. Fires blazed everywhere and there were quakes that wracked the ground. To the north and east the mountains erupted into volcanoes and pyroclastic ash fell like rain all around.

Manwë turned to Oromë. "Go and make sure the Children are safe."

"What about Melkor?" Oromë asked, not willing to leave the scene just yet.

"He’s not going anywhere," Manwë said with finality. "Go. Appear before the Children and assure them that all is well."

Oromë thought himself away. The others, still unclad, continued to watch the destruction unfold around them. "Now we wait," Manwë said and the others nodded, content to abide until the forces of nature that had been brought to bear had calmed enough for them to risk becoming corporeal once again.

****

Note on Time: The War against Melkor took nine Valian years (approximately 86 solar years) of which five Valian years (47.9 solar years) were spent before the gates of Utumno [VY4592-99]. It was another Valian year before Melkor was finally captured and brought to Aman to stand trial. One hundred thirty-four solar years passed between the Third Council of Manwë and the trial of Melkor.

Note on Dragons: In the Silmarillion, it is said that two hundred years after the Dagor Aglareb, Glaurung, the first of the Urulóki, or fire-drakes of the North, issued forth from Angband [Chapter 13, ‘The Return of the Noldor’]. However, there is nothing in canon that says that Melkor could not have created a prototype at an earlier age and then resumed creating dragons once he returned to Middle-earth at the beginning of the First Age. Glaurung may have been the first of Morgoth’s Dragons encountered by the Elves, but not necessarily the first dragon ever created.

54: The Trial of the Fallen

It took some time for the destruction to settle. When it did all could see that Utumno was nearly in ruins. Manwë decided it was unnecessary for them to open the thin wall of dirt separating the waters of the canal from the gates of the fortress.

"Let us find our Fallen Brother first before we make any other decisions," he said and with that he clothed himself in hröa and the others followed suit.

The air was thick with sulphurous clouds and ash still, blocking out the light of the stars and the volcanoes to the north were still belching out lava, but the Ayanumuz ignored all that. Moving cautiously with their Màyar about them, they started towards the broken gates when all of a sudden there was a stirring from inside and several of the fire-demons, though not Cosmoco Námo noticed, came rushing out like a molten tide of flame, heading straight for Manwë. Eönwë, standing beside his lord carrying Manwë’s standard, cried out. He pushed the standard into Olórin’s hands and went for his sword, as did several of the other Máyar, all intent on protecting their lord.

It proved unnecessary, for even as the first of the fire-demons came near enough to use its whip, Manwë raised his own sword and spoke a Word. A flash of pure celestial lightning came forth from the point of his sword and every one of the demons cried out in pain, writhing in agony as their hröar withered in the wind and were gone.

There was absolute silence for the longest time as everyone alternated between staring at the space where the demons had been and casting surreptitious looks of awe and amazement at Manwë, who ignored them all.

"Well, shall we get on with it?" he asked no one in particular, his tone quiet and matter-of-fact.

Eönwë was the first to recover, sheathing his sword and retrieving the standard from Olórin, before turning to Manwë with a look of complete worship. "Lord, I did not know you could do that!" he exclaimed.

Manwë gave his Herald a wry grin. "Neither did I," he said.

Several eyebrows went up. "Then how...." Varda started to ask and Manwë just shrugged. "I’m not sure. I just... did it."

Námo nodded. "I had a similar experience when the first fëa arrived in my Halls. Something inside of me opened up and I suddenly just knew what I was supposed to do without really understanding how or why."

The others gave Námo looks of respect mixed with sympathy, for they knew how difficult it was for him to speak of what had happened when the first fëar started arriving in his Halls so unexpectedly.

Manwë nodded. "Yes. I think that is what happened here." He sighed and his eyes narrowed. "Well, shall we go see if our brother is receiving visitors today?" His tone was dark and serious, but they could not help but laugh at the words.

Aulë called for a wooden chest bound with mithril that he had insisted on bringing with him from Amanaphelun. Until now, he had refused to speak of its contents, saying only that what lay inside was needful for the war effort. Taking a key from around his neck, he opened the chest and for the first time the Ayanumuz beheld Angainor, the Oppressor. They stared at it in wonder as Aulë brought it forth. It was a chain and they could see that it was made from copper, silver, tin, lead, iron and gold and they felt the spells that welded them to a substance of uttermost hardness, brightness and smoothness. Between each link was another metal, an alloy that seemed to possess all the properties of the other six and many of its own. It flashed green and red depending on the angle as starlight shone upon it through the clearing smoke and clouds. There were two manacles and four fetters made from this seventh metal. The entirety glittered with a deadly beauty that sent shivers through more than one fëa.

Námo stared at the chain in growing dread. "That... that’s the chain Melkor...."

Aulë nodded. "With some improvements of my own. When Irmo brought it to me I decided to study its properties more closely. It was rather crudely made, but effective in its purpose in keeping you, Vairë and Therindë in hröa." He gave them a fierce look. "Melkor is going to regret ever having made this."

Manwë nodded. "Let us go then. Eönwë, you have charge of the Máyar, while we Ayanumuz deal with our brother. Keep an eye on Angamando. It does not appear to be as damaged as Utumno, so Aulendil may decide to attack, if only to provide a distraction while his master attempts to flee."

Eönwë bowed and immediately began issuing his own orders while the Ayanumuz, with Manwë and Aulë in the lead, made their way inside Utumno. Just beyond the gates there were narrow stairs that descended out of sight into stygian gloom. It was the only thing that appeared to have survived the impact, though many of the steps were broken and they had to take care in their descent. The way was tortuous and they passed several levels now empty of anything save the bodies of the fell creatures of Melkor’s making that had not survived the destruction. The lower they went the less destruction they encountered.

Aulë examined the stonework with professional interest, the granite pillars upholding the ceiling unadorned but solidly built. "He may be evil, but he knows how to build things to last," he muttered with a tone of approval that made more than one of his companions stifle a laugh.

Finally, they came upon a deep hall lit with flaming braziers. Several dim passages entered the chamber from different directions and the Ayanumuz warily cast about to make sure there were none of the enemy lurking in them. There was an aura of evil that surrounded them, and they could feel the dark spells that had been wrought there. Strange shapes shifted with feverish movements in and out, while giant white pythons curled and uncurled without rest about the pillars that formed an avenue down the center of the chamber. At the other end was a dais upon which stood a throne made from volcanic rock as black and unforgiving as the one who sat in it.

They had found Melkor.

Manwë gave an involuntary gasp, his expression stricken as he gazed upon his brother. Melkor was shrunken, no longer the mighty Ayanuz whom he had last seen on Dáhanigwishtelgun overlooking the desert plains of Nasarphelun. It was obvious that Melkor had bled much of his power away, leaving only a shell of what he had once been behind, though it still held more power within it than any of the Children would ever comprehend. "Oh, Melkor," Manwë whispered, shock mingled with pity rising within him, "what hast thou wrought in thyself?"

Melkor sneered from his throne. "What is the matter, Manwë? You do not approve? You are such naive fools, all of you!" Then he sprang to his feet, shouting in a loud voice. At once, several of his folk came through the dismal passages to his aid. Then Melkor lashed at Manwë with an iron flail that he bore, but Manwë took a step back and breathed gently upon it and its iron tassels were blown backwards.

Almost at the same time, Tulkas sprang forward and attacked Melkor, wrestling the iron flail from his grasp and throwing him down to the floor before jumping on him. Screams of rage echoed through the chamber and the pythons slithered off their pillars, making their serpentine way among the Ayanumuz. Most were destroyed by the Ayanumuz who were fending off the attack by Melkor’s other folk. The one or two that survived slithered off into the darkness. Námo noticed that none of the fire-demons or the Úmáya known as Yelur were among the attackers. It did not take long for the Ayanumuz to overwhelm the pitiful troops and then Melkor was alone again.

Tulkas snarled at a particularly underhanded maneuver from his opponent and slammed his fist that was encased in an iron gauntlet full in Melkor’s teeth. At the same time Aulë leaped forward with Angainor and began wrapping him in it while Tulkas continued to pin him down. Melkor screamed as the first link of the chain touched his skin and he attempted to escape by disincarnating, but Námo, watching it all with a dispassionate air, doubted that their Fallen Brother was even capable of going incorporeal any longer. It mattered not, for Angainor was quickly wrapped about him.

Manwë stared down at his brother and sighed. Looking at Tulkas and Aulë, he nodded. "Let us take him back to Amanaphelun to stand trial."

"What of Utumno?" Oromë asked. "Should we not have its chambers checked to see that none of Melkor’s evil spawn remain? Cosmoco and Yelur, I see, are not here and I would fain learn of their whereabouts."

"And what of Acairis?" Vairë asked suddenly. "I was surprised not to see her standing by her master’s side."

"She was not seen throughout the long siege," Námo said. "Perhaps she was never here."

"Well, we will have the Máyar search the fortress for clues of the whereabouts of the missing Úmáyar," Manwë said. Then with a nod to the others, he began climbing back to the surface.

Tulkas and Aulë hauled Melkor to his feet and dragged him up the stairs until they were outside again, the stars glowing fitfully between the ragged edges of the clouds that were slowly dispersing. Already some of the Máyar were moving to enter Utumno to check the lower vaults and caverns while the rest remained vigilant against Angamando. Then Aulë bound Melkor’s feet with the fetters and his wrists with the manacles and the metal of which they were made went red. Melkor screamed again at the touch of the metal, screams that became whimpers. Manwë stared at his brother dispassionately and only Námo guessed at the anguish hidden behind his implacable mien. "Blindfold him," he ordered and turned to give final orders to Eönwë who would remain behind to oversee the search of Utumno. Tulkas cast Melkor a wide grin as he conjured some cloth to cover Melkor’s eyes. The Fallen One began mouthing invectives again and Tulkas caused another piece of material to appear and shoved it into Melkor’s mouth.

Melkor’s bonds made it impossible for him to go incorporeal and the Ayanumuz decided not to risk transporting him any other way except to physically force him to cross the land bridge that had brought them to the Outer World. Each of them decided it would be best if they accompanied Manwë, Tulkas and Aulë with their prisoner.

"Just in case," Varda said to her spouse and he did not dispute her. In the meantime, Eönwë came to report on the findings of the Máyar.

"We have seen no sign of Aulendil, Cosmoco, Yelur or Acairis," he told them. "We did discover a tunnel that connects the two fortresses but Angamando proved empty, or at least those parts of it that we explored. In truth, my lord, both Utumno and Angamando are labyrinths of caverns and passages. I doubt we will ever find them all."

"Should we go ahead and flood Utumno then?" Ulmo asked, his eyes glittering in anticipation at the thought.

Manwë shook his head. "I do not see the point. We have Melkor and that is the important thing. I think we should call the Máyar home, save those still guarding the Children. If Aulendil and the others are hiding somewhere, they may seek to take revenge on the Firstborn for their master’s downfall. Until we know for sure they are safe, I want the Children guarded at all times."

"I still think Utumno and Angamando should be flooded," Ulmo said with a frown. "I hate to leave them as they are."

Manwë thought for a moment before nodding and addressing Eönwë. "Have the Máyar pile a hill of stones over Utumno to ensure that whatever may lurk in the shadows cannot escape to trouble the world. Do the same with Angamando."

"Just to be safe," Aulë said, "destroy the tunnel connecting the two fortresses."

Manwë nodded and Eönwë bowed to his lord and departed. Oromë turned to Námo, his expression grim. "Something tells me we may regret not allowing Ulmo to flood the fortresses," he said quietly so only Námo heard.

"Perhaps," Námo said gravely, "but I think we should concentrate our attention on what we plan to do with our brother and the Quendi. The doom of the one may well dictate the doom of the other."

Oromë gave him a considering look, but said nothing as the Ayanumuz continued towards Amanaphelun. They went by ways long and dark, over ice fields and across desolate tundra, with Aulë, Ulmo, Tulkas and Oromë guarding Melkor every moment. Neither Námo nor Vairë would come near him, even bound, blindfolded and gagged as he was.

"He can no longer hurt you," Manwë said sympathetically when Námo begged leave not to have to be one of Melkor’s guards.

"I know, or at least I think I know." He gave Manwë a troubled look and Manwë simply nodded.

"Why don’t you and Vairë go on ahead and check our route?" he suggested. "Since the war much of the topography in this area has changed. No sense going to all this trouble just to have the lot of us fall through a crack in the ice and drown."

Námo chuckled at the Eldest’s attempt at levity but accepted the offer being given with heartfelt gratitude. He glanced once at the chained figure standing between Tulkas and Oromë and could not suppress a shudder.

Tulkas gave him a grin. "Why don’t you spit on him?"

Námo gave him a startled look. "Wh-why would I want to do that?"

The other Ayanuz shrugged. "It might help."

Námo stared at Melkor for a long moment, then shook his head. "He’s not worth the effort," he muttered before moving away to find Vairë.

And all the while Melkor gnawed his consuming rage, having heard every word.

****

Eventually, they came to Amanaphelun and the Light of the Two Trees greeted them as a balm to their fëar. Manwë had decided earlier to hold the trial as soon as they reached their home, so they bypassed their city altogether and made their way directly to the Mahananashkad, placing Melkor in the center. "Remove his blindfold and gag," Manwë ordered as he took his throne; Tulkas complied with the order before taking his own throne, leaving Melkor alone, lying in such a way that he was facing Manwë. His lip was split and his face had a strange leer upon it from the last blow dealt him by Tulkas. For a long moment there was silence while the Ayanumuz gazed upon their brother, blinking rather stupidly at the light that was all around them. It was now the Second Mingling of the Lights and the Trees shone with all their glory. Melkor stared at them in shock, though a deep hunger began to gnaw at him and an inchoate desire rose within him, a desire that he kept carefully hidden as he lay before his brother’s feet.

Manwë finally looked up and addressed Námo. "Read the charges, my brother," he said and when Námo rose, Melkor attempted to twist his hröa so as to see him. The sneer of contempt mingled with fury and hatred that he directed at Námo nearly unnerved the Doomsman and he studiously refused to look at his nemesis, keeping his gaze resolutely on a spot just short of where Melkor lay.

"Melkor, thou standest accused of attempting to thwart the designs of thy Creator, to wit: in thine attempts at destroying Atháraphelun so that the Children would have no abode when the time of their Awakening arrived thou didst subject grievous harm upon the works of our hands, contending against us who are the lawful Guardians of Eä; and when that didst fail, thou didst attempt to overthrow our suzerainty over Atháraphelun itself, styling thyself Lord of Atháraphelun when thou didst not have the authority of lordship." He paused for a brief second and his amaranthine eyes went dark and cold as he at last shifted his gaze to look squarely at his former torturer. "And at the last thou didst foully and with malice of forethought waylay the Innocent and thou didst commit atrocities upon the Children so as to corrupt them from their original purpose of being and suborn them from their true fealty to their Creator, theirs... and thine. How dost thou plead?"

For a moment Melkor continued to sneer at Námo who was hard-pressed to maintain an impassive mien. He wanted nothing more than to kick that supercilious smile off his tormentor’s face but, clinging to the memory of Atar’s love for him, he remained unmoved. When he did not get the reaction he was looking for, Melkor frowned, then turned his attention to Manwë, replacing the sneer with a look of remorse, a look that Námo suspected was feigned. "We are brothers, thou and I," the Fallen One said, his voice seemingly contrite and humble. "Surely thou wouldst not condemn thine own brother, wouldst thou? I admit that in the past we have had our differences, but let us put such trivialities aside and be brothers once again. Release me, Manwë, and I promise thee that I shall work to heal the harm I have done to thee and to this world, yea, to all of Eä."

Manwë said nothing to this but turned to the others. "What say ye to this plea?"

"Would that he might be slain," Oromë said baldly, staring at Melkor with cold implacable fury.

"Yet that is outside our power and purview," Manwë answered, his tone mild.

"What oath could he give of his parole that we could in conscience accept or trust?" Aulë asked. "He hath not been content to accept his place in the greater scheme of things. Look how he seduced mine own Chief Máya."

"And mine," Vairë interjected.

Melkor’s expression of remorse was replaced with another sneer. "Ye may delude yourselves in believing that I seduced your precious Máyar, but in truth, they came to me, for they saw me as their true lord and master."

Vairë’s face went white and she might have risen in fury had Námo not reached out to stay her with a gentle touch. Melkor noticed and his eyes narrowed. Then his Tulkas-induced leer turned uglier. "Ah... I see my two favorite... playthings have finally become espoused. I must say, Little One, it took thee long enough, but I suppose being damaged goods...."

He got no further, for Námo was suddenly standing over him and his expression was beyond glacial as Melkor cringed before him. "Thou canst speak of me howsoever thou might wish," he said in a tone that was frightening for its very mildness, "but thou wilt never speak ill of my beloved again. She is beyond thee as the stars are beyond the reach of the Quendi and the only damaged goods I see cringeth before me."

"Enough," Manwë said. "Return to thy seat, Námo," and his tone brooked no argument. For a long moment, though, Námo continued to stand there, staring at Melkor before slowly resuming his throne.

Then Varda spoke. "I agree with Aulë that we cannot trust any oath our brother might give."

"Yet what should we do with him?" Vána asked. "To exile him to the Outer Dark I deem would be best."

"Thou meanest we should drop him off on some desolate world in another galaxy and leave him enchained for all the Ages of Eä?" Oromë enquired, looking intrigued by the idea.

"Yet to what purpose?" Manwë asked. "Should not whatever punishment we devise be for his correction and rehabilitation so that he might repent of his crimes against us and Atar?"

At this Tulkas stood, scowling. "I care not for this onslaught of words. Liefer would I have thee unchain him that I might fight him here and now. I would give him many a buffet in meed of his ill doings rather than making high debate of them."

"Peace, brother," Manwë said, hiding a smile at the impetuousness of the younger Ayanuz. "Stay thy going, for it behooves us all to be witnesses to this trial." Tulkas glowered at Melkor, who tried unsuccessfully to glower back, before resuming his throne.

"Let us forswear words for deeds then," Tulkas said and then he spoke no more during the rest of the trial, only glowering remorselessly at his enemy.

"Yet, words are all we have at this moment," Ulmo stated as he stood, "therefore I shall speak," and with that he began to catalogue all that Melkor had done against them from the moment they had entered Eä down to the present, his voice emotionless though his eyes flamed with deep ire, never removing his gaze from Melkor during his recital.

Yavanna then spoke, naming every plant that had been corrupted from its original beauty, and Oromë followed, speaking of the animals that had been twisted into unclean monsters.

"And then there is the matter of the Children," he said at the last. "They speak of the Hunter and Dark Rider and I deem that can only be Melkor or his minions, snatching unsuspecting Quendi and bearing them away to cruel torment and enslavement until they were no longer recognizable as Atar’s Children. For this deed alone, he deserves death, though I would accept eternal banishment in lieu of it."

"A pity we cannot simply throw him out of Eä itself, perhaps shove him into a pocket universe where he can do no more harm," Aulë muttered.

"Do not be too sure of that!" Melkor spat at them and as he continued to speak his voice rose in wrath. "I do not accept your authority to judge me who am the greatest of you all. Ye fear my power, and rightly so. Do what ye will but I will find a way...."

At that point, even Manwë had had enough and with a gesture he forced the gag into Melkor’s mouth and his brother could only glare at them with futile rage.

"Only Atar hath the power to remove any of us from Eä, be they willing or unwilling," Manwë reminded them mildly as if their discussion had not been interrupted. "And so this is what I council: Whatever his deeds, Melkor is still our brother and an Ayanuz, powerful beyond measure for the future good or evil of this world. Should we not then seek his restoration rather than his destruction? We can neither kill him nor send him outside Eä, and to banish him utterly from Atháraphelun for all Time seems counterproductive."

"What then do you propose?" Varda asked.

Manwë did not answer her immediately but glanced sympathetically at Námo. "Thy Halls thou didst build believing they were for the Second Children who will tarry but for a little while with us before Atar calleth them home. Yet, thou knowest now that that is only part of their purpose."

"Say rather, that their purpose has been altered to meet the exigencies of the moment," Námo intoned, his expression unreadable. "I still believe they were never meant for the Firstborn, save that Atar allowed him" — he pointed imperiously at Melkor — "to do what he did." He shook his head, and in spite of his resolve, tears streamed down his cheeks and his expression became one of mingled sorrow and pain. "Oh, Manwë, if only thou had been there when the first Fëa arrived. He was but a child in truth, calling for his emmë." At that, he rose, wishing only to be away from the sight of Melkor, but Irmo stood as well and stayed him, embracing him and gently rocking him, muttering softly soothing words of comfort until he was calm again and, uttering an apology to them all, he resumed his seat.

"There is no need to apologize, Námo," Manwë said with great gentleness. "Thou hast been the most wronged of all of us and so I deem it only fitting that thy Halls be put to another use as a prison."

Everyone stared at Manwë in disbelief. Námo narrowed his eyes in anger. "A prison? Thou wouldst I should turn my Halls which I created in beauty and for love of Atar and the Second Children into a place of torment such as we discovered when we did assail Melkor in his own fortress?"

"Nay," Manwë exclaimed. "But I think thy Halls are the only place where we can keep him in safety and give him time for reflection on his past deeds and future actions."

Námo’s eyes were still narrowed, but now with deep thought. Finally he nodded. "I can create a chamber from which none can escape, not even one of the Ayanumuz."

"Then are we all agreed?" Manwë asked. "We will remand our brother into Námo’s safekeeping."

"For how long?" Varda asked.

"Let us say for three ages," Manwë suggested, "at which time we will re-examine his case and he may once more sue for pardon, if he can prove to our satisfaction that he is willing to make amends for his misdeeds."

Yavanna shook her head and Tulkas continued to glower. "A perilous mercy," she said coldly. "I like it not, yet neither will I gainsay the judgment if others say yea to it."

"Then let each declare their verdict, either yea or nay, to this judgment," Manwë ordered and one by one, beginning with Varda, they stood and declared their acceptance of Manwë’s edict. Námo was the last to stand and for several seconds he did not speak, merely gazing dispassionately at the prisoner, who lay there with a sneer, though fear lurked behind it. Finally, he nodded. "Yea."

Manwë turned to Tulkas. "Let us have the prisoner on his feet to hear his doom."

Tulkas smiled as he rose and with a negligent gesture hauled Melkor to his feet, turning him to face, not Manwë, but Námo, who had remained standing. Then, Námo spoke and his tone was implacable and unforgiving.

"Melkor, thou dost stand accused of foul crimes against thy fellow Ayanumuz and against the Children and these deeds were unlawful, whether in Eä or not in Eä. Therefore this doom is now made: for three ages of the Trees thou shalt be consigned unto my Halls where thou mayest reflect upon thy deeds. In that time remember who and what thou art. But after that time this matter shall be set in peace and held redressed if thou comest unto repentance."

"As to that," Manwë said, "we will see." He gestured for Tulkas to turn Melkor to face him. "Pay heed, my brother, to the mercy of thy peers and to Atar’s mercy as well. Use the time wisely and to good purpose. Thou sayest that thou’rt the greatest of us all, and in that thou speakest true, yet thou hast squandered thy greatness in thy lust for domination. Wilt thou not turn away from thy folly and remember thy first Joy, which rests in Atar’s love for thee?"

Melkor only glared at his brother and after a moment Manwë sighed. "Take him away."

At that, Oromë stepped down from his throne and joined Tulkas with the intention of helping him escort Melkor. Námo gave Manwë a brief bow before turning his attention to Tulkas and Oromë holding a writhing Melkor between them. "Come," he said. "Our brother’s cell awaits him."

****

Liefer: Archaic English: Readily, willingly.

Meed: Archaic English: A fitting reward or recompense.

Note: Besides the Silmarillion, which at best gives only the barest description of Melkor’s defeat and trial, I drew upon the following for inspiration: Book of Lost Tales 1, Chapter IV, ‘Of the Chaining of Melko’, HoME I, and Morgoth’s Ring, ‘The Annals of Aman, §§ 50-52’, HoME X.

55: The Last Debate

Námo led them into his Halls, refusing to look back to see what Melkor’s reaction to the place might be. He took them through the main hall and down a particular passage that had not existed previously. At the end of the passage was a door before which they all stopped.

"Wait," Námo said and then he closed his eyes and centered himself before he began to Sing. It was a Song of binding and restraining; of secrets revealed and justice upheld, yet woven into it was the possibility of repentance and release. He ignored the stir from behind him as Melkor writhed in fear and anger at what Námo wrought; Tulkas and Oromë held him tight. At last the final note faded away and without looking back, Námo opened the plain wooden door and began to descend the stairs that were behind it. Down it wound until it came to a short passage where there was another door, this one made from meteoric metals that had a black matte look to it, reflecting nothing. With a single thought from Námo, the door opened into a chamber that was approximately ten feet square. It was empty save for one piece of furniture.

"You have to be jesting," Oromë exclaimed as he and Tulkas dragged a still resisting Melkor into the room.

Námo shrugged and gave the other two Ayanumuz a wintry smile. "Never let it be said that I would deprive anyone, even Melkor, of a few homey features to their cell."

Tulkas snorted while Oromë grinned even as the two of them pushed Melkor into what appeared to be a replica of the very throne on which he had been sitting when they found him in Utumno. This throne, however, had a few extra features, namely rings embedded in the armrests and the front legs so that Angainor could be passed through them, effectively binding Melkor to it.

When they had gotten him secured, Tulkas reached over and removed the gag. Melkor glared at them equally with contemptuous hate, then fixed his attention of Námo, who had stood impassively by while the other two dealt with their Fallen Brother.

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" Melkor sneered.

Námo shook his head. "Oddly enough, I am not. I am sorry we have come to this."

"No doubt," Melkor said sarcastically. "Well, torment me as you wish, Little One, but don’t expect me to snivel and beg like a broken slave the way you did. Rushirithir so missed the little games you and he played..."

He got no further with his taunt, for suddenly Námo spat in his face, shocking him into silence. Then, without another word, Námo turned and exited the cell. Oromë was standing there looking at him as if he’d lost his mind, while Tulkas merely gave him a knowing grin. Blushing a little in shame at having allowed Melkor’s taunt to get to him, he nevertheless gave Tulkas a wry grin. "You know, you were right. It does help."

The golden-haired Ayanuz’s booming laugh, even as Námo sealed the cell door shut, was the last thing Melkor heard for some time after.

****

They returned to the Mahananashkad where the others awaited them. Námo gave Manwë a bow as he entered the Ring. "It is done," he said simply and then resumed his own throne.

Manwë nodded. "Then we must now speak of the Children and what should be done for them."

Ulmo frowned. "Do? Why should we do anything at all? Have we not removed Melkor so he can do them no more harm? Let them be where Atar placed them. I doubt me not that there is a purpose behind it with which we would do well not to interfere."

"Ulmo speaks well, Manwë," Yavanna said. "I deem these Quendi were meant to use their gifts of skill to order all the lands and heal their hurts."

"Yet they are defenseless against the evils that roam under the starlit dusk," Vána said.

"They can learn to defend themselves, if need be, or they can be taught," Oromë suggested and Tulkas nodded in agreement. "Though, in truth," he added, "I would fain have them with us where they can live in peace and without fear. Aulendil, Cosmoco and Yelur are still out there, capable of doing great harm to the Children."

 "Not to mention Acairis," Vairë said darkly and the others nodded in agreement.

Aulë, however, sided with his wife and Ulmo. "I think we should leave them where they are," he said. "Atar wished for them to awaken under starlight. If we bring them here to Amanaphelun, to dwell under the Light of the Trees, will that not defeat whatever design Atar has for them?"

"Will they even want to come?" Yavanna insisted. "They know naught of us save Oromë and the journey will be long and perilous. They may not wish to leave what for them is their home for what they may deem an uncertain future."

Manwë turned to his spouse. "What say you to this, beloved? These Children woke to the glory of your stars. Do you wish for them to continue to rejoice in your creations or should they come here, forsaking the stars forever?"

For a long moment Varda did not speak, her expression one of deep thought. "The Children awoke under starlight as Atar decreed," she finally said, "but he said nothing about them having to remain thus. I do not know why they should have been denied the light of a sun, to live in darkness only. I would rather they dwelt amongst us in the Light of the Trees, for they are beautiful with a beauty like and yet unlike our own."

"I agree with Varda," Nessa said. "I, too, find them beautiful and would fain have their fellowship, that we might teach them all that we can about Atháraphelun and the love that Atar has for them, for us all."

"Do you not think they know that already?" Irmo asked.

Nessa shrugged. "I do not know. What say you, Oromë? Do the Quendi know of Atar?"

Oromë shook his head. "Not, I deem, as we do. Some of the oldest among them mentioned that upon waking they heard music, soft and gentle, and they somehow sensed that it was a song of welcome though they admitted that the words were unintelligible to them."

They all paused to reflect on that for a time. Finally, Manwë spoke. "Still, that is not to say that we cannot teach them further."

"That is true," Ulmo said. "Yet, why must we bring them here to teach them? Unlike them, we are not bound to the physical world. All of us can think ourselves to Cuiviénen. We can teach them as easily there as here."

"Yet, these lands would remain empty of their presence," Nienna spoke for the first time. She stole a glance at Námo, who all this while had remained silent, unmoving and unmoved by the arguments either way. Even Vairë could not tell what his thoughts were. "I have begun to collect the tears of the fëar who have come to my brother’s Halls, for I deem that when Atháraphelun’s Time comes to a close, those tears will be needed." She sighed, and they could see her own tears welling up. "I would not want to have to collect any more such tears ever again."

Manwë nodded. "I, too, would not wish for you to have to collect such tears from any Child again."

"And that brings up another point," Ulmo said. "What of the Secondborn? Will we leave them to fend for themselves against the evils still lurking in the Outer Lands when they too awaken?"

Manwë shook his head. "We will deal with that when the situation warrants it. For now, let us concentrate on the Firstborn and what we wish for them." He glanced about the Ring, gauging the intent of the others. His gaze settled on Námo sitting opposite him and wondered why the one Ayanuz who had the most to gain if the Children were safely living amongst them here in Amanaphelun had yet to voice his thoughts. He was tempted to ask point-blank for Námo’s opinion, but decided against it when he saw the set look on the younger Ayanuz’s face. He instinctively knew that Námo would abide by whatever decision the rest of them made, but he himself would say neither yea nor nay to any of their arguments. Manwë had a feeling deep inside him that perhaps they were in the wrong, but he was genuinely concerned for the safety and well-being of the Children and looked forward to having them here with them. Already, in the back of his mind, he was anticipating the joy of teaching these bright inquisitive beings all that he knew of Eä and of Atar.

"Are we agreed, then?" he asked. "Should we summon the Children to dwell with us under the Light of the Trees for all the ages of Atháraphelun, that they may not be victims of whatever evils still lurk in the darkness under the stars?"

Varda, Oromë, Nessa, Vána, Nienna, Irmo and Estë all nodded their assent. Vairë looked at Námo, frowning slightly at her husband’s continued silence. She sighed, wondering if he would hate her for her choice. As if he knew her thoughts, he suddenly turned to her, and while his expression never changed, his eyes were warm and loving and accepting and she gave him a loving smile before turning her attention to Manwë. "I concur with the others," she said.

Tulkas sighed. "I little like the idea of removing them from where they are, for I foresee great trial and heartbreak for them in their journeying hence, yet I, too, wish to have them near us."

Ulmo sighed. "It seems that the majority are in favor of this, therefore, I will abide by the decision to summon them to Amanaphelun, though I deem it folly."

"As will I," Aulë said, then turned to his wife who nodded reluctantly.

Manwë rose, his mien solemn. "Then it is decided. The Children will be summoned to abide with us for all the ages of Atháraphelun." He turned then to Oromë. "Go, brother. Return to Cuiviénen with our invitation. Let us bring the Children home."

Before Oromë could respond, Námo slowly rose and all gazed upon him with wonder, for he appeared to them in a foreboding light, his amaranthine eyes dark with something none of them could put name to and in the words that he then spoke there was the echo of Another’s Voice:

"So it is doomed."

- Metta -

Appendix: Timeline

The dates are given in Valian Years (1 Valian year equals 9.58 solar years). Dates in brackets signify the Years of the Trees. I give the solar time as well. The Valar began keeping time with the creation of Arda (our solar system), thus the period before that is essentially ‘timeless’. Not being a creationist, the time frame for the events before Arda’s creation cover 13.6 billion years, give or take an eon. With the creation of Arda, I follow Tolkien’s own timeline with respect to the events recorded in the Silmarillion and elsewhere in his writings.

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0: The creation of the Ayanumuz in the Timeless Halls and the creation of Eä:

     The Ainulindalë.

     Eä is brought into existence.

     Coming of the Ayanumuz into Eä, including Melkor.

Between the Coming of the Ayanumuz into Eä and the creation of Arda:

     Beacon-stars created.

     Melkor sets a galaxy on a collision course with ours as a diversion while he hides 12 of his Máyar inside the cores of a dozen newly formed stars in Varda’s star nursery.

     Vairë is kidnapped by her chief Máya, Acairis, who openly declares herself for Melkor.

     Irmo and Oromë help Námo rescue Vairë.

     Námo is taken by Melkor during the rescue attempt and suffers temptations and torture.

    Námo escapes and hides, accidentally finding the 10^th dimension.

     The Ayanumuz search for him for some time before he is found and treated for his injuries.

The First Council of Manwë:

     The Ayanumuz decide on the structure of the solar system.

The Changing of the Variable:

     Melkor attacks the Ayanumuz in an attempt to forestall them from bringing Arda into existence.

1-1900: 18,202 solar years between the creation of Arda and the founding of Almaren:

     With the creation of Arda, Time begins.

First War of Arda:

     Twelve Úmáyar hiding in the stars, having taken the forms of flame and shadow, now emerge, giving Melkor the advantage. The creation of the asteroid field and the form of the solar system as we know it today.

1500: The coming of Tulkas into Eä (Solar Year 14,370):

     Tulkas arrives from the Timeless Halls; Melkor flees and hides in the Halls of Eä.

     Arda is rebuilt.

1900-3450: 14,849 solar years between the creation of the Two Lamps and the destruction of Almaren:

1900: The Two Lamps are created (Solar Year 18,202):

     Illuin and Ormal are set upon pillars to provide light for Arda.

     Almaren is founded.

     First forests grow, and non-humanoid animals are awakened.

3400: Feast of the Valar (Solar Year 32, 572):

     Wedding of Tulkas and Nessa.

     Melkor returns in secret with followers from Eä and begins building Utumno and Angamando (Angband).

     Melkor begins to corrupt the lands and living things of Arda, turning them into sickly or monstrous shapes.

     The Valar become aware of Melkor's return and begin seeking his stronghold.

3450-3500: 479 solar years between the destruction of Almaren and the founding of Aman:

3450: Destruction of the Two Lamps and the Second War of Arda (Solar Year 33,051):

     The Ayanumuz fight to save what they can from the destruction of the Two Lamps, creating a continent from the ruins of Almaren for themselves which they call Amanaphelun, later Valinor.

3500-4550 [1-1050]: 10,059 solar years between the creation of the Two Trees and the Awakening of the Elves in Cuiviénen:

    Founding of Aman and the creation of the Two Trees; Irmo and Estë, Oromë and Vána wed.

    Aulë makes the Fathers of the Dwarves.

     Ents and Eagles are created for Yavanna and Manwë, respectively.

4500 [1000]: Second Council of Manwë (Solar Year 43,110):

     Addresses the concerns of Oromë and Yavanna regarding Middle-earth and the impending arrival of the Firstborn.

     Varda completes her work on the Great Stars, Menelmacar and the Valacirca in particular, as a challenge to Melkor.

     Melyanna and other Máyar depart for Middle-earth.

4550 [1050]: The Awakening of the Elves in Cuiviénen (Solar Year 43,589):

     Manwë calls the Chapel of Stars into existence.

     Námo builds Mandos.

     Wedding of Námo and Vairë.

4580 [1080] (Solar Year 43,876):

     Melkor begins capturing Elves and corrupting them into orcs.

4582 [1082] (Solar Year 43,895):

     The first fëar arrive in Mandos.

4585 [1085] (Solar Year 43,924):

     Oromë discovers the Elves.

4586 [1086]: Third Council of Manwë (Solar Year 43,934):

     The Ayanumuz convene a council to address the plight of the Elves; Manwë consults with Eru and the Ayanumuz go to war.

4590 [1090] (Solar Year 43,972):

     The Ayanumuz cross over to Middle-earth via the Helcaraxë; the first victory goes to them and Melkor flees into Utumno, while Aulendil (Sauron) hides in Angamando.

4592 [1092] (Solar Year 43,991):

     The Siege of Utumno begins.

4599 [1099]: (Solar Year 44,058):

     Utumno is destroyed and Melkor taken captive; Aulendil escapes capture and hides in Angband.

4600-01 [1100-01]: The Chaining of Melkor (Solar Year 44,077):

     Melkor is taken to Aman and tried; consigned to Mandos for three Ages.

     The Ayanumuz summon the Elves to Aman; Oromë returns to Cuiviénen.

Character List

This is a list of the Ayanumuz and their attendant Máyar. All Máyar are listed whether they have actually appeared in the story or not (and I reserve the right to add additional Máyar if necessary *grin*). Máyar are considered canon unless otherwise designated as Original Characters (OMC/OFC). Many, though not all, of the OC names are taken from the names of "lost Valar and Maiar" that can be found in some of Tolkien’s earlier works, such as the Book of Lost Tales, and those familiar with such stories will no doubt recognize these names. Where necessary, their Qenya orthography has been modified to reflect LOTR-styled Quenya. [Qenya (pronounced the same as "Quenya") refers to the earlier versions of what we know as Quenya.] The rest of the names are of my own devising. These names are Quenya unless otherwise noted. Where possible, I have given the meaning of names. A name with an asterisk indicates the chief Máya of a particular Ayanuz.

Manwë and Varda

*Eonwë: Manwë’s Chief Máya and Herald, brother to Ilmarë in the Thought of Ilúvatar

*Ilmarë: Varda’s Chief Máya, sister to Eönwë in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Erunáro (OMC): "Fire of Eru", twin brother to Manveru in the Thought of Ilúvatar  

Fionwë (OMC) "Hawk-person"

Mánatamir (OMC) "Blessed Heirloom"

Manveru (OMC): "Who Is Like Eru", twin brother to Erunáro in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Nornoros (OMC): "Messenger, Runner"

Olórin [Mithrandir, Gandalf]

Sáyandilmë (OFC): "Fire-fay friend"

Aulë and Yavanna

*Aulendil [Sauron]: Aulë’s Chief Máya; secretly in league with Melkor, names himself Mairon 'The Admirable'

*Cemendillë (OFC): "Earth-daughter", Yavanna’s Chief Máya and sister to Niondil in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Aiwendil [Radagast]

*Auros (OCM): "Sun", becomes Aulë's Chief Máya after Aulendil's defection 

Curumo [Curunir, Saruman]

Urion (OMC): "Son of Fire"

Urwen (OFC): "Fire-maid"

Ulmo

*Salmar: "Lyre-player"

Amillo (OCM): brother to Erintë in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Erintë (OFM): sister to Amillo in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Lirillo (OCM): "Singer"

Oshosai/Ossë: "Terror"

Uinen: "Lady of the Sea"

Nienna

*Pallando [Blue Wizard 2]

Aiwendilmë (OFC): "Lover of Birds"

Marilliën (OFC): "Daughter of Pearl" or "Daughter of Crystal"

Nasarindil (OFC): "Red Lily"; the name is adapted from Valarin

Niondil (OMC): "Bee Lover", brother to Cemendillë in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Nyéreser (OMC): "Sorrow's Friend"

Tiutalion (OMC): "Son of Consolation", brother to Maranwë in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Nessa (and Tulkas)

*Talmavar: "Foundation’s Shepherd"

Cassantur: "Helmet Lord"

Ramandor: "Shouter", brother to Ravenni in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Ravenni: "Huntress", sister to Ramandor in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Irmo and Estë

*Melyanna [Melian]: "Beloved Gift"; Irmo’s Chief Máya

* Niellúnë (OFC): "Azure Bee"; Estë’s Chief Máya

Cucuandur (OMC): "Dove’s Servant"

Ingil (OMC): "First Star"

Lisselindë (OFC): "Sweet Song" 

Morilindë (OFC): "Nightingale"

Ninwanyellë (OFC): Blue-bell"   

Nornotavaron (OMC): "Oak Tree Spirit"

Olóremmárië (OFC): "Dream-snarer"

Súrilindë (OMC): "Wind Song"

Oromë and Vána

*Alatar [Blue Wizard 1]: Oromë’s Chief Máya

*Arien: Vána’s Chief Máya; Maia of the Sun

Aldarondur (OMC): "Servant of the Lord of Trees" 

Lótessë (OFC): "Flowery"

Niéliqui (OFC): "Watery Tears"

Roimendil (OMC): "Lover of the Hunt"  

Tilion: Maia of the Moon

Tirnotaurion (OMC): "Guardian of Trees"   

Ulcuroitar (OMC): "Hunter of Evil"

Vairë

*Acairis (OFC): "Bride"; defects to Melkor

*Therindë (OFC): "Broideress"; becomes Vairë’s Chief Máya after the defection of Acairis

Ancalequirindë (OFC): "Radiant Spinner"

Ardalanyamo (OMC): "Arda Weaver"

Ilinsor (OMC): "Crystal Eagle"

Námo

*Maranwë (OMC): "Destiny", brother to Tiutalion in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Aicatirno (OMC): "Fell Watcher", brother to Hurinórenámo in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Calimo (OMC): "Shining One"

Elemmartamirë (OFC): "Star-fated Jewel"

Hurinórenámo (OMC): "Hidden Heart of the Judge", brother to Aicatirno in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Morinehtar (OMC): "Darkness-Slayer"

Tindomerel (OFC): "Daughter of Twilight", a kenning for Nightingale

Vanimeldë (OFC): "Beautiful Dear One"

*****

Melkor

*Cosmoco [Gothmog]: Melkor’s Chief Máya and Lord of the Valaraucar

Phanairushur (OMC): (Valarin) "Bright Fire", brother to Ancalequirindë in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Rushirithir (OMC): (Valarin) "Fire-Light", a Valarauco

Urushebeth (OMC): (Valarin) "Fire-Air", brother to Ilinsor in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Yelur (OMC): "Cold-One"; also called Helcaran "Ice King"

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The Ayanumuz of the Timeless Halls (all names are Valarin)

Ezelullumirub (OMC): "Green Water Wine", twin brother to Ezelurushebeth in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Ezelurushebeth (OFC): "Green Fire Air", twin sister to Ezelullumirbu in the Thought of Ilúvatar

Phanaínithil (OFC): "Bright Lily"

Tulukurush (OMC): "Golden Fire"

Ulluinithil (OFC): "Water Lily"

Ullukeluth (OMC): "Water Mirror"