23: Epilogue: The Laying Down of Authority

Aman, twenty-four years later:

Námo was the first to arrive in the throne room, though the others were not far behind. His expression was one of disbelief rather than anger. "Are they insane?" he exclaimed as he entered to find Manwë, Varda and Ulmo already there.

"Apparently," Manwë said in a distracted tone. He was on the balcony where he was concentrating on what his Eagles were telling him.

"Where are they now?" Varda asked Ulmo, sounding more calm than she actually felt.

"They’ve passed Avallónë and are just now reaching Aman," Ulmo stated, his expression one of mingled anger and sadness.

"Eönwë," Manwë called and his Herald appeared, giving them all a deep bow. "Alert Arafinwë. Have him order the people of Tirion to Valmar. Ar-Pharazôn will strike there first."

"You’re going to let him get that far inland?" Oromë asked, his demeanor one of great grief at the obstinacy of these younger Children, always desiring what was not theirs to have.

"The better to trap them," came the reply, though it was Tulkas who spoke, his expression feral.

"And then what?" Yavanna asked quietly. "What do we do with them then?"

"Do you think they will really try to invade us?" Vairë asked her spouse.

Námo shook his head. "There is a chance, a very slim one, that in the end Ar-Pharazôn will turn back. We will have to see."

"Even if he does, there will be repercussions," Manwë stated gravely, turning his attention to his fellow Valar as he stepped back into the throne room from the balcony. "This affront to our Authority cannot go unpunished."

Eönwë appeared then, giving Manwë a bow. "King Arafinwë is even now leading his people towards Valmar." Then he gave them a sour grin. "Prince Findaráto and Lord Laurendil are in the process of gathering a troop of warriors from among the Reborn and Returnees and is even now raiding the armories of the Noldor."

Manwë raised an eyebrow. Eönwë merely shrugged. "Friend of Men he may be called, but Ar-Pharazôn has just made himself the prince’s enemy."

"All well and good," Tulkas interjected, "but I like not the idea of the Eldar going to war again and staining the lands of Aman with blood, whether their own or someone else’s."

Manwë nodded and turned to Eönwë. "Go to Findaráto and tell him that I, the Elder King, order him to leave Tirion and follow his atar to Valmar. He and his warriors may act as a rearguard if they wish but under no circumstances are they to engage the Mortals unless it is to defend themselves."

"And if he gives you any grief, Eönwë," Námo said, "Tell him that if he disobeys I will be having a very long talk with him after this is over. That should give him pause."

Eönwë gave the Lord of Mandos a brief smile before bowing and fading from view to carry out his orders.

"They’ve landed," Ulmo stated baldly, his expression remote and forbidding. Always he had been the closest to the Children, both Eldar and Mortals, and it grieved him beyond telling that these Younger Children would become so corrupted by Sauron as to defy the Authority of the Valar this way.

He cast a glance at Aulë and his grief turned towards his brother Vala, who must stand by and watch his former servant destroy yet another part of Atar’s plans for Arda.

"Now what?" Estë asked, her expression grimly sad.

"Now we wait," Manwë answered and his voice was colder than the snows of Taniquetil, contemplating many things as Arien sank into the uttermost West. Doom hung over all of Aman like a shroud.

****

Unclothed warrior Maiar, led by Manveru and Erunáro, kept watch over the Invaders, effectively blocking any retreat. Ar-Pharazôn did not know it, but he and his men would never leave Aman alive. The Maiar were in fact herding the Mortals into the Calacirya and on towards Túna. Manveru looked towards Valmar, nodding in satisfaction. It had taken some convincing, plus a direct threat from Lord Námo, to get Findaráto and his warriors moving, but now all the Children were safely away.

He could see pavilions being set up on the western outskirts of Valmar between the Ezellohar and the Máhanaxar for their use. Hopefully the dislocation would be for only a day or three. A contingent of Maiar had also been sent to guard the road leading towards Alqualondë. No Mortal would reach the pearl gates of the Swan City. Other Maiar, led by Roimendil of the People of Oromë, were on Tol Eressëa, keeping the populace calm. Ar-Pharazôn’s ships had by-passed the island, but the Eldar were naturally frightened at what was happening.

Manveru shook his head in disbelief. Were the Mortals that stupid, ignoring a possible threat sitting behind their lines? The Tol Eressëans, for the most part, were Returnees from Endórë and most of them had fought in the War of Wrath beside the ancestors of these Invaders. They would like nothing better than to take up arms again and defend their new homes. Lord Manwë was correct, though, in forbidding any of the Eldar from engaging the enemy. Enough elven blood had been spilt upon these fair lands; no sense staining them with Mortal blood as well if it could be at all helped.

"They’re heading towards Tirion," Erunáro informed his brother in the Thought of Atar.

"It is nearly dark," Manveru answered with a nod. "They will most likely set up camp below the city. Send guards to all the city entrances. The Mortals are not to be allowed to enter the city itself, at least not tonight."

Erunáro nodded and issued the order while Manveru sent a report to Eönwë letting him know that all was in place.

****

The Valar sat upon their thrones debating what their next step should be. It had been hours since Ar-Pharazôn’s fleet had landed and they were no closer to a solution than before.

"We should just destroy them," Aulë said harshly, "and be done with it."

"And the people of Númenórë itself? What should be done with them?" Nienna demanded sorrowfully.

"They need to be taught a lesson," Tulkas answered.

"As if having their fleet destroyed and their king dead won’t be punishment enough," retorted Varda.

"There is still Sauron to consider," Námo interjected.

"Speak not that traitor’s name in my presence, Little Brother," Aulë insisted with great anger and grief overshadowing him.

"Forgive me, Aulë. I do not mean to cause you more grief than you already bear," Námo replied but Aulë waved away his apology.

"We have never had the authority to chastise any of the Children unto death," Manwë said in the tense silence which followed. "Yet, death is the only option. These Children cannot escape with impunity. Their transgression is too great, their defiance too deep."

Before any could respond to the Elder King’s words, Eönwë appeared, looking even more grave than he had earlier. "They’ve reached Túna, my lord," the Maia said to Manwë. "We have overheard Ar-Pharazôn ordering his people to start searching for ‘the secret’ and becoming more and more enraged as the search proves futile."

"Secret? What secret?" demanded Nessa.

"The secret of immortality, of course, my love," Tulkas answered with a chuckle that held no mirth.

"What are they doing?" Manwë asked his Chief Maia.

"Pretty much wrecking one of the outlying villas," his Herald answered. "They are fighting over who will drink from the well or eat the fruits from the orchard. Apparently they think in consuming these things they will achieve immortality. One of them even went so far as to stab his fellow to, and I quote, ‘see if you are really immortal or not’." He cast them all a wry grin. "Apparently not. Ar-Pharazôn was not happy at that and has ordered the Man executed. Now there are two dead Mortals whose blood has stained our fair land."

Silence fell upon the Valar and a rising sense of horror emanated from them as they realized that they had no means to counteract the deeds of these Invaders. Manwë looked upon each of the Valar, silently asking them the same question. One by one they nodded. Manwë then turned to Eönwë. "Go. Send every Maia to guard the Eldar. What must be done...." He paused and shook his head, his expression bleak. "Go," he said again, not looking at his Herald.

Eönwë hesitated, not sure what was happening, then bowed and faded from view. When the Maia was gone the Elder King rose and the other Valar followed. "We will do this at the Máhanaxar," he said and without another word they all thought themselves to their thrones in the Ring of Doom.

By now it was full night, made even darker by the clouds that hid the stars. A pall hung over all of Aman and the Valar were no less affected by it than the Eldar. When they reconvened at the Máhanaxar, no Elf knew, not even those camped only yards away on the plain between the Ring of Doom and the Mound of the Two Trees. The fourteen Powers stood before their thrones, Vána and Nessa softly weeping at what was about to transpire. All heard as Manwë bespoke Atar.

*Forgive us, Atar,* the Elder King said, *we have failed thee... I have failed thee.*

*Not so, my children,* came the reply and a wave of Love swept through them, calming them and giving them some measure of hope. *This is beyond your authority to deal with and ye have done right to come to me. Yet, I must ask thee this, my son: Dost thou, Manwë, Elder King of Arda, resign thy vice-gerency in the name of thy fellow Valar, if only for a brief time?*

Manwë sighed and all could see the tears glittering in his eyes as he nodded. *Yea, Lord, I do.*

*Then, my children, be comforted and know that I am well pleased with you.*

Atar’s Presence withdrew from them and they all stood waiting for they knew not what. Eönwë suddenly appeared, begging indulgence. "Lord, all throughout Aman the Eldar are falling into slumber. In the midst of their activities they are simply stopping and falling asleep."

"Make sure all fires are extinguished," Manwë ordered. "Every Elda is to have a Maia beside them until I say otherwise. No Elda is to be left alone, no matter where they may be."

"It will be as you say, Lord," Eönwë replied, giving the Elder King a deep bow before leaving.

Minutes passed and the Valar remained rooted before their thrones waiting and then —

"It has begun," Ulmo stated with a calmness that was forced.

At first there was a sense of darkness that was more than just cloud cover and night. There was an ominous feel to it, a pressure upon the soul that threatened to crush it into nothingness and then a sudden lifting of that pressure followed by tremors. As one all of the Valar thought themselves back to Ilmarin where they would have a perfect view of all that was happening.

"Look!" Varda exclaimed, pointing eastward to where the Númenórëan fleet was beached. The ships were falling away as if by a tremendous undertow and they could see that just beyond Tol Eressëa a deep chasm had opened up. Water flowed into the chasm and the noise and the smoke of the cataracts went up into the heavens so that the Valar on Taniquetil could hear the sound perfectly. Slowly but inexorably the ships flowed past the island, their speed quickening as they neared the chasm until they were lost to sight and the sounds of Men screaming faded into the dark.

Yet, that was not the end. Further east they could see Númenórë moving towards the chasm, though all noted with satisfaction that Tol Eressëa remained stationary. The Star Island was too far away for any of the Valar to hear the screams of its inhabitants as tidal waves swept over them and the foundations of the land crumbled and fell into the abyss.

"So none of them survived," Yavanna said softly, looking sad, but Ulmo shook his head and pointed.

"Look closely, sister, and you will see ships further east being swept away towards Endórë. They bear the Faithful led by Elendil. I have already alerted Ossë, Uinen and Salmar to see that they reach shore safely."

Slowly the chasm began to close and the attention of the Valar was brought closer to home as they swept their amaranthine eyes across their own lands. The tremors that had opened up the sea-chasm had also done some damage to Aman.

"Where are Ar-Pharazôn and his Men?" Vairë asked in surprise.

"They are no more, my love," Námo answered. "While you were watching Númenórë being swallowed by the sea, I was watching those encamped below the gates of Tirion being swallowed up by an avalanche, even as the ground opened up beneath them. I fear the villa where they were encamped has been destroyed."

"We will see it rebuilt before we allow the owners to return," Manwë said and the others nodded.

"So now they are all dead," Oromë said with grim satisfaction.

Námo shook his head. "Ar-Pharazôn and his Men are not dead, though they may wish they were."

"What do you mean, brother?" Irmo asked as they all stared at the Lord of Mandos in surprise.

"They sleep, held in suspended animation," Námo answered calmly. "Atar will not permit them into his Presence, not until the Renewing. Thus they shall lie uncorrupted for all the ages of Arda in the Felyar i Alenyalainëon whose location is known only to Atar... and me."

Manwë nodded. "It is well then."

"But is it over?" Nessa asked in confusion.

If Manwë meant to answer, he never got the chance. Suddenly it was as if all of Aman, including Tol Eressëa was engulfed in Flame. There was a subtle shifting of Reality and the Valar found themselves holding their breaths in shock. Then, the Flame faded and they all looked out onto a star-strewn sky and calm seas. All was familiar and different at the same time.

"This... this is the tenth dimension," Ulmo whispered in disbelief. "Valinor has been removed completely from the World."

"Now we know what its true purpose has always been," Námo said with awe and there were nods all around. 

"But what of the Eldar still residing in Endórë?" asked Varda with some concern. "Have they been condemned to permanent exile from us?"

*Nay, daughter,* came the answer from the Timeless Halls. *The Firstborn will always have the ability to take the Straight Path but there can be no return. Only ye who are the Children of my First Thoughts will be able to move between dimensions at will. Until the Remaking, the Mortals are sundered from the Blessed Realm. Only death will allow them to traverse the dimensions to Mandos before they must come to me.*

"We thank thee, Atar," Manwë said humbly. "What now is thy will for us?"

*Resume your offices as my good and faithful servants,* Atar said with great authority, although there was a gentleness to his tone that comforted them all. *Your duties are not yet done.*

"What do we tell the Eldar?" Varda asked for them all.

*The truth, child,* came the gentle reprimand. *Nothing less will serve.*

Then Atar’s Presence was once again withdrawn and the Valar were left to themselves. Finally Manwë stirred. "Come, let us see to our people. The dawn will bring many questions among the Children."

"I will see that the ships of the Faithful arrive safely," Ulmo stated. "There are those among the Eldar who will be concerned over the fates of some of them."

They all nodded and with a thought faded each to his own demesne to check for damage.

****

from ‘The Chronicles of Lindon’:

3295: In this year, as has become more frequent of late, a ship from Elenna, the Star Island, sailed into Mithlond seeking refuge, which King Gil-galad granted. Among the Mortals were a young couple, newly wed, who bore messages of greetings from one Lord Laurendil, once of Lindon’s Court. King Gil-galad welcomed these two with great warmth and named them Elf-friends and took them into his own household where every honor has been accorded them....

3315: In this year was born a daughter to the Elf-friends, Lord Fiondil Ardamirion and his lady, Vandiel Elemmaciliel, and her name is Laurendilmë. May the Valar bless her....

3319: In this year four ships from Númenórë arrived before a hurricane that was greater than any had ever seen before. Their sails were torn and the ships themselves were battered. Some claim to have seen Lord Ossë himself blow the ships into Mithlond where Lord Círdan awaited them. One of the ships bore Elendil, son of Amandil, last Lord of Andúnië, and King Gil-galad greeted him warmly. With him came two who were long looked-for by Lord Fiondil and Lady Vandiel — Lord Valandil and Lady Ercassë. They were accompanied by their young son, Boromir, as well as an elderly Woman carrying a black cat. The joy of their reunion caused even King Gil-galad to weep at the sight....

****

Felyar i Alenyalainëon: Caves of the Forgotten, literally, ‘Caves of Those Who Are Not to Be Recalled to Memory’.

Note: The description of the Downfall itself is taken from the Akallabeth.