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".