PART TWO: ALL LIGHT FLED

‘So the great darkness fell upon Valinor... The Light failed, but the Darkness that followed was more than loss of light.’ — Quenta Silmarillion VII

****

34: Darkness Rising

Year of the Trees 1493:

Arafinwë looked up from the tome he was perusing to see his brother standing at the doorway of his study, his expression grim. Ñolofinwë entered and sat in a nearby chair before Arafinwë could open his mouth.

"What is it?" he asked, pushing the book aside.

"It is happening again," Ñolofinwë replied shortly.

Arafinwë sighed. "Where?"

"Where else?" his brother retorted with a grimace. "This is the third time in the last several weeks that a near riot has broken out between various guilds."

"Which ones?" Arafinwë asked as he stood to go to a sideboard and pour some wine for them both.

"Oddly enough, the miners’ guild and the metalsmiths."

Arafinwë raised an eyebrow as he returned to his seat, handing one of the cut crystal goblets to his brother. "Whatever for? Those two guilds work very closely with one another. And, as I recall, the last time there was a riot, they banded together against the carpenters’ guild when the master samno refused to allow any of his people to work on the metalworkers’ guildhouse, saying there was no need for expansion since half the guild went to Formenos."

Ñolofinwë nodded, taking a sip of the wine. "I know, I know. Yet, this time, the miners refused to increase their ore supply for much the same reason. Why bother when half the metalsmiths are in Formenos? There’s no trade between our two communities. We have to go through Vanyamar for that."

"I wish the Valar had given us permission to trade with Formenos," Arafinwë said with a shake of his head.

"Exile means exile," Ñolofinwë replied with a sardonic grin. "Though, mind you, I am beginning to think that it isn’t so much exile as it is relocation. I’ve gotten reports that indicate that our brother has built himself an imposing fortress and there is a sizeable village that has sprung up around it. The land may not be as conducive to farming as it is around Tirion or further south in the Fiefdoms, but they seem to be doing well enough."

"And it has only been three, almost four years now," Arafinwë stated. "I can well imagine that in the next eight, that village will grow into a city to rival Tirion or Vanyamar."

"Possibly," his brother averred, "but I do not think the Valar will allow that. When the time of exile is over, they will insist that the people return to their homes. Our brother and nephews may well remain there with a few others, but I think the rest will return with Atar. He will want his crown back and I will gladly return it."

"You are doing very well, Ari," Arafinwë said with an encouraging smile. "Better than I could, I assure you."

"Well, if we do not quell these outbreaks of violence, I fear there will not be a city for Atar to return to." He rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed. "I wish I understood why these outbreaks occur as they do. I have the feeling that there is something more behind them than dissatisfaction over minor disputes between masters."

Arafinwë narrowed his eyes. "Do you think that someone is deliberately inciting these outbreaks?"

"Possibly," Ñolofinwë said. "There’s a pattern to it, I am sure of it, but I just cannot see it."

"Hmm.... as I recall, there was an outbreak of violence between the weavers’ guild and the mámandili. The dispute arose when the master lanyar accused the mámandili of supplying the weavers with inferior wool."

Ñolofinwë nodded. "Yes, and when I investigated it, it turned out to be a false accusation. The quality of the wool was the same as it had been the year before. What changed was the fact that the dyers’ guild was supplying the weavers with inferior dyes, causing them to bleed over and ruining the designs." He scowled.

Arafinwë nodded. "I was still in Alqualondë at the time so I only heard about it from others."

"It was because of that incident that I asked you and Eärwen to return even though I know you would have preferred to remain in Alqualondë."

Arafinwë shrugged. "My home is here, as are my people. I enjoyed our visit, but in truth, I welcomed your order to return. I did not like the idea of you having to deal with things on your own."

"Well, my children and Anairë helped," Ñolofinwë said with a wry smile.

"And speaking of children," Arafinwë said, "I received a missive from Findaráto. He has decided to formally ask Lord Aulë’s permission to leave his service."

"Oh? I thought he was happy in Valmar as an Aulendur," Ñolofinwë said.

Arafinwë nodded. "He is, but he feels he should be here helping us." He gave his brother a grin. "I think he’s feeling guilty that he is having so much fun while the rest of us are toiling away in misery."

Ñolofinwë barked a laugh at that, shaking his head. "What did Lord Aulë say? Has he given Findaráto permission to depart?"

"The missive did not say, only that he was going to ask. Frankly, I almost hope Lord Aulë will refuse his wish and keep him there."

"Why?" Ñolofinwë gave his brother a surprised look.

"I rejoice when he is here, don’t get me wrong," Arafinwë explained, "but I sense unhappiness within him, a discontent that seems to increase with every visit. In fact, I sent a private message to Lord Aulë about it."

"Indeed?" Ñolofinwë raised an eyebrow. "And what did he say?"

"Only that he had noticed the same unrest in my son’s fëa whenever Findaráto returned to Valmar, but that once he was engaged in his work with the other Aulenduri he seemed more content." Arafinwë paused, giving a sigh. "I know he is unhappy when he is here, and I would fain have him remain in Valmar where he seems to be content."

Ñolofinwë nodded, taking a sip of his wine. "I can understand that, though I would welcome his return, for he has a presence about him that increases calm in others. He was very helpful the last time he was here when Lords Pelendur and Rialcar nearly came to blows over that boundary dispute."

"Yes, he did very well there," Arafinwë admitted. "Well, Lord Aulë may well deny him and then the matter will be moot, but I know Eärwen misses him terribly and would be overjoyed to know that he is returning for good."

"In the meantime, we need to address the situation between the miners and the metalworkers," Ñolofinwë said with a sigh. "I have called for the masters of the two guilds to attend me at the next court and I’ve asked Turucáno to look into the incident and report back to me as soon as possible. I want to get this settled before the next outbreak occurs."

"You really think there will be more?" Arafinwë enquired, evincing surprise and doubt at the same time.

His brother nodded grimly. "Yes, I do. These outbreaks are occurring too regularly not to be orchestrated by someone. I only hope that in time we can find out who is responsible."

"What will you do if you do discover who is fomenting these outbreaks?" Arafinwë asked in curiosity.

Ñolofinwë gave him a mirthless grin. "Why, send them to Atar, of course."

Arafinwë stared at his brother for a second or two in disbelief and then threw back his head and laughed. Ñolofinwë merely sat there drinking his wine, a slight satisfied smile on his lips.

****

Findaráto stood nervously before the doors leading to the audience chamber where Lord Aulë and Lady Yavanna were holding court, conducting the business of running their demesne as well as dealing with concerns that were of interest only to the Valar. Urundil was standing next to him, having accompanied him as a friend. He gave the ellon a worried look.

"I wish you wouldn’t do this," he said. "We are so close to finding a solution to the energy flux and your help is invaluable. Please reconsider asking to leave us. Aulendilmë will miss you terribly."

"And you?" Findaráto asked with a slight smile. "Will you miss me as well?"

Urundil nodded. "Yes, and I am not the only one. You belong here, Findaráto, you know this. You are a true Aulendur."

Findaráto sighed, now looking uncertain. "I am also a prince of Eldamar and I have duties that I have neglected these last years while mine uncle and Atar are struggling to keep Tirion from erupting into flames. They need my help more than you do."

Urundil looked glum. "What will you do if Lord Aulë denies your request?"

Findaráto gave his friend a wry smile. "Do you mean, will I run away to Tirion?" He shook his head, chuckling slightly. "I am not that stupid or desperate."

Urundil was about to comment when the doors opened and Auros, Aulë’s Chief Maia, gestured for Findaráto to enter. "Lord Aulë will see you now, Prince Findaráto."

Urundil gave Findaráto a squeeze on the arm. "Good luck," he said softly. Findaráto nodded his thanks and followed the Maia into the audience chamber.

"Prince Findaráto," Auros announced and Findaráto stopped to give the two Valar his obeisance before advancing to where they were seated on thrones. The expressions on the Valar’s faces gave nothing away as to what they were thinking and Findaráto swallowed nervously, his palms suddenly sweaty.

"We know what you would ask of us," Aulë said without preamble. "What will you do if I deny your request."

Findaráto steeled himself for rejection. "I would, of course, abide by your decision, lord, little though I might like it."

There was a long stretch of silence as the Valar seemed to contemplate his answer. Findaráto forced himself not to look away from their gazes as much as he wanted to. There was a quality in the Valar’s eyes that always unnerved him, as if they could perceive the very core of his fëa and found it wanting.

Finally, Aulë stirred. "You have our permission to depart, Findaráto," he said gravely.

Findaráto resisted giving a sigh of relief, only bowing. "Thank you, lord."

"We are not sanguine in letting you go," Yavanna said, equally solemn, "we much prefer you with us, but we understand your need. It is hoped that when you have done your duty to your family, you will return to us."

"I would like that, lady," Findaráto replied. "This was not an easy decision to make, please believe me. I would fain remain here, but my family needs me, as do my people."

"Some of your people reside here in Eldamas and Valmar," Aulë pointed out.

"Yet, they are untroubled by what has happened," Findaráto countered. "It is in Tirion where the trouble lies and I would aid mine uncle in calming the city."

"We are aware of what is happening in Tirion," Yavanna said with a nod. "The Valar are troubled by the unrest that still exists among the Noldor. We had been aware of that unrest earlier but assumed, wrongly it seems, that Fëanáro was at the heart of it."

"Which is why we exiled him as we did," Aulë added, "believing that in removing Fëanáro from Tirion the unrest would settle."

"But it hasn’t," Findaráto pointed out.

"No, it has not," Aulë averred, his expression grave as he stroked his golden-red beard. "It is why I decided to grant your request. Perhaps you will exercise your talents of persuasion for the good of your people and for the good of all Eldamar."

"I am not mine Uncle Fëanáro to sway the hearts and minds of others with mere words," Findaráto protested.

"Yet, you have a gift of persuasion nonetheless," Yavanna retorted mildly. "Use it to the fullest."

Findaráto nodded. "When may I leave?" he asked.

"Soon, but not immediately," Aulë answered. "Continue as you have for a little while longer. I promise that you will see your family before the year is out."

Findaráto gave the Valar another bow. "Thank you," he said and with a nod of dismissal from Aulë he turned and left the chamber.

"Well?" Urundil asked him as soon as the door closed behind Findaráto leaving the two ellyn alone in the antechamber.

"I have their permission to depart, but not immediately," Findaráto replied, giving Urundil a grin. "So you are stuck with me for a little while longer."

Urundil gave him a broad smile and clapped him on the shoulder. "Good. Perhaps while we still have you with us we can solve the problem of that energy flux."

Findaráto nodded and together the two left to rejoin the other Aulenduri.

****

No sooner had Findaráto left the audience chamber than Aulë and Yavanna were joined by Manwë, Varda, Námo, Oromë, Nienna and Ulmo. These were the Máhanumaz, the eight chiefs of the Valar.

"So you decided to let him go," Oromë said as they all settled in chairs around Aulë and Yavanna.

Aulë shrugged. "I have no legitimate reason not to," he said. "He is not a prisoner and if I had kept him here simply because I do not wish him to leave, he would have eventually become resentful, perhaps even to the point of rebelling against my authority. Better to let him go in the hope that he will someday return of his own accord."

"There is no easy solution to this," Manwë said. "We will have to hope that Findaráto does not fall victim to the unrest in Tirion."

"Speaking of which," Nienna interjected, "how do you plan to address the situation there? We thought that with Fëanáro in exile the unrest would settle, but that has not happened."

"It is troubling, to be sure," Manwë averred with a sigh. "However, any direct intervention on our part may make matters worse. We are walking a thin line between aiding and interfering. Fëanáro’s accusations are still being voiced by others. If we are seen to intervene where we have not been invited to do so, they will perceive this as proof that we think of them as our thralls."

"Ñolofinwë does not seem eager to solicit our help," Námo said.

"He most likely feels that if he does he will be shown as unable to rule."

"He does not want to rule," Varda pointed out with a sardonic look.

"Yet, he is being conscientious about it and doing his best," Ulmo retorted. "But that is not to say he couldn’t do better." He turned to Aulë. "Before you let Findaráto leave, you might consider suggesting to him that we Valar would be happy to be of assistance if the situation warrants it. He has had the most contact with us in these last few years. He might be persuaded to convince Ñolofinwë to ask for our help rather than trying to do it on his own."

"It is a thought," Aulë said with a nod, "and I will certainly consider it."

"How much longer do you plan to keep him?" Námo asked Aulë.

"I promised him that he would be back in Tirion before the end of the year," Aulë answered.

"Let us hope that in the meantime Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë are able to calm the unrest among their people," Manwë said. "I am beginning to think that exiling Fëanáro in the hope that the unrest would disappear will prove futile in the long run, but I do not see what else we could have done, given what we knew or thought we knew about the situation."

"We will have to trust to Atar that all will work out as it must for the good of us all," Varda replied.

"Always," Manwë averred and the others nodded in agreement.

****

Samno: Carpenter.

Lanyar: Weaver, [lanya- ‘to weave’ + -r ‘gender-neutral agental suffix’].

Mámandili: Plural of mámandil: Shepherd, literally ‘sheep friend’.

Máhanumaz: (Valarin) ‘Authorities’. Quenya adopted and adapted this as Máhani, but usually it is translated as Aratar ‘the Supreme Ones’.