V

Evening Council

The entire household saw to it that the rest of the day was as enjoyable and carefree as possible for their guests, so that by the time the hobbits retired for the night, both had all but forgotten any unpleasantries of the afternoon.  Frodo did not tell Bilbo of his conversation with Olórin and their hosts, figuring that it would be better to wait and see how things went at their meeting before troubling him with a situation he could do nothing to change.

Before the evening's council was due to meet in Ilmarin, Olórin sought out Elennúro to discuss the matter with him as a friend rather than before all the other Ainur.  The slender, dark-haired Maia served Varda in a capacity like that of Ványalos in Lórien, as a messenger and occasional emissary to the other Valar.  He and Olórin had become friends shortly after Arda had been formed, when the Ainur began to assume incarnate forms to better understand the state in which the Eruhíni would naturally exist.  They had shared an intense curiosity about the world and the kinds of life that would inhabit it, and thus their paths had crossed outside their work for the Valar they followed.  Theirs had always been a lively and merry friendship, and it saddened Olórin to find that such a shadow had fallen between them.

He had made no effort to disguise that sadness when they met late that afternoon, and Elennúro had reacted to it with immediate shame.  He tried to explain his feelings to the Istar, with difficulty, for he saw now that he had allowed himself to be swayed by another's bitterness into slandering a friend.  His devotion to Varda had been used against him, for Lintamacar had spoken to him in ways that would rouse his protective instincts and cause him to pass judgment on another in haste.  That Olórin approached him in friendship even though he knew what Elennúro had said convinced him that he was indeed in error.  The Istar forgave him without hesitation upon seeing his honest remorse, and they talked, as friends, for a bit more before their duties called them away.

Olórin was relieved to tell Varda the result of that meeting before the council was due to begin.  "It was just as Frodo suspected," he informed the equally relieved Valië.  "Elennúro was confused by Father's revelation, since we know of no other sibling relationships between Valar and Maiar.  He was afraid that some might think of it as demeaning to Manwë, and to you by association.  He had initially planned to speak with you about it after things had settled down a bit, but late yesterday evening, while he was still at the festivities outside the city, he was drawn into a conversation with Lintamacar and others of our people who sympathized with him.  Lintamacar knew precisely what to say to upset Elennúro, and convince him that this was all a covert plot between myself and Manwë to have me counted among the Valar, even though I had not been created so by the One."

Varda sighed.  "Which of course implied a profound insult to me, and a general undermining of the authority of all the Valar.  I would be more sympathetic to Lintamacar's position if it were not so plain that he is using the situation and its uncertainty to manipulate others for his own agenda.  This must stop."  She paused for a moment, lips pursed as she studied the situation.  After another moment, she smiled.  "I think perhaps it would be best if we invited one or two more Maiar to the council tonight."

Olórin's faint frown was one of puzzlement.  "I can easily understand why you might wish to invite Elennúro, as it would both ease his mind and provide evidence to the other Valar of what is happening among our people, but I fear that Lintamacar's presence might turn the council into an argument.  He is obstinate in his views, and no doubt has many clever ways of making them seem fair and reasonable to Lord Tulkas.  Turning this meeting into a trial of one Maia might only serve to strengthen the beliefs of those he has already swayed to his side."

"Quite so, which is why I was thinking of asking Eönwë to come as well.  He was witness to more than just this afternoon's incident, and could provide information that would be much more productively useful than anything Lintamacar might have to say."

Olórin agreed with her assessment, as did Manwë, who expanded it.  So as not to have Elennúro impugned as an informer, he instructed the other Valar to have their chief messengers attend the council as well.  "I know them all," the Elder King elaborated, "and I am certain that if any side with the malcontents, it is for the same reasons as Elennúro.  It may seem to belittle his position, but none can argue that Eönwë is indeed the chief of all my messengers, and I know Arinvílë won't object if he takes on her usual role for the occasion.  She enjoys her work as my courier, but she has often lamented that she is bored to tears by long meetings."

So it was that when the Valar met in the great council chamber in Ilmarin, fifteen Maiar were also present, all but Olórin and Eönwë part of an informal order called the Mentacolindor, the message bearers.  Several of them were well known to Olórin:  Varda's messenger, Elennúro; Ványalos, Olórin's friend and neighbor in Lórien, who served Irmo; Alyanis, who served Estë; Ornedil, the brother of Aiwendil, who served Yavanna; Failaner and Yaisawen, twin brother and sister who served Nienna and Námo, respectively.  He was acquainted with all the others, though less closely:  Ulmo's messenger, Fáraláma; Lúsinara, who served Aulë; Mairosámo, who served Oromë; Riellë, who served Vána; Lanwatur, Vairë's messenger; Vórimanil, who served Tulkas; and Sinyëlilta, who served Nessa. Although they entered with proper dignity, having been informed that this was not a light-hearted social meeting, Ványalos caught his neighbor's eye with a huge grin of pure delight, having had no opportunity the day before to express his feelings about the news that had so many others a-twitter.  The Istar smiled back with greater restraint, but he was glad to know that this had changed nothing between him and one of his closest friends.

As he watched the others follow the Valar to their places, Olórin looked for any signs of their attitudes, both positive and negative.  Not surprisingly, those he knew best appeared at the very least content with matters.  Several of the others seemed indifferent or resigned, but two appeared wary, if not overtly hostile.  The chestnut-haired Lúsinara's tensely guarded expression was not unexpected, for she had been fond of Curumo before he volunteered to go on the mission of the Istari, and quite likely viewed the current situation as a painful reminder of his failure, and her loss.  It was Mairosámo's bitter frown that truly startled Olórin.  The tall golden-haired Maia had been one of those with whom he had worked in the healing of Avathar, not as closely as with some others, but their relationship had always been amiable.  He had not known much of him before that time, but he had known that Mairosámo was one of the most skilled of Oromë's Maiar when it came to dealing with horses.

As he recalled that particular detail, a connection was made in the Istar's mind.  He said nothing of it at that moment, but he planned to bring it up when the proper time presented itself.  Instead, he watched quietly, standing before his seat at Manwë's left hand, while everyone took their place, the other Maiar seated to the right of and slightly behind those they served.  Once in place, all remained standing as the Elder King spoke the traditional invocation.

"May Eru guide us, and grant us wisdom," he said at his most solemn and sincere, to which all responded with, "Nasië."   All then took their seats.

"I know why this meeting was called," Ulmo said in his blunt way even before Manwë had a chance to say more.  "But I will confess that I'm at a loss to understand why you asked us to bring our chief couriers as well.  Fáraláma tells me she had plans to spend the night listening to a convocation of minstrels who had come for the Festival."

The small, slender Maia so mentioned blushed faintly, the pink in her pale cheeks an interesting contrast to the sea-green highlights of her long dark hair.  Manwë gave her a smile of genial reassurance.  "I know I gave very short notice of this request, but it was with good reason, one for which I hope those who were inconvenienced will forgive me."

He nodded to Varda, who in turn gestured to Elennúro.  "All of you know my chief liaison, Elennúro.  He has been of great help to me through all our years in Eä, and never has he been anything less than a good and faithful member of my people.  He has had his loyalty and devotion to me used against him in a wicked way.  I wish for all of you — and by this I mean both the Valar and the Mentacolindor — to know what has transpired."   She gestured again, and Elennúro rose to address the assembly.

"I have no wish for any of you to think that I am attempting to place the blame for what I have done on another," he said in a light, musical tenor.  "I recognize that while I was manipulated, I was not forced, and it was my error to act in a way unbefitting to any Ainu.  Yesterday evening, I was invited to join a discussion among a group of Maiar at the festival.  The topic, as I imagine most have already guessed, was the unexpected revelation that Lord Manwë has a second brother.  I admit that my first reaction to this news was one of shock, for I had not imagined that a Vala and a Maia could have such a relationship in truth, and I feared that some among the Firstborn would view this as demeaning to all the Valar."

He sighed, the sound one of clear regret.  "I had originally intended to ask my Lady Varda of her own reactions, seeking guidance for my confusion, for I worried most how this might hurt the respect others should have for her.  I joined the discussion, and in it heard many opinions that seemed to confirm my worst fears.  One person in particular was very much disturbed by the situation, for he claimed that he had already heard many Elves say that the brother of a Vala must be another Vala, and if this was not so, then the Elder King would intercede with Lord Eru so that what should be so would indeed come to pass."

He paused to collect his thoughts and clear his throat.  "Whether or not this was true, I know now that it was not my place to pass judgment on the will of our Father.  I do not know His purpose in doing what He has done, but I do trust that it is good."  He glanced at Olórin, his face full of apology.  "Nor is it my place to pass judgment upon you, my friend.  I had no right to call you unworthy of this gift Father has given to you.  I now see that I allowed Lintamacar's envy to awaken my own, and I should not have allowed it.  I am most grateful for your forgiveness."

When he spoke the name of one of Tulkas's people, a ripple of reaction ran through those listening.  Not surprisingly, Tulkas himself spoke first.  "Lintamacar?" he repeated, a frown creasing his ruddy face.  "What has he been up to now?"  The exasperation in his voice was plain, and surprised many who heard it.

"You knew of this?" Manwë asked in the mildest of tones, though he was genuinely surprised.

The Champion snorted.  "I had no idea he was stirring up others to resentment or anger over Father's startling news, but I know he can be a troublemaker.  Didn't you know?"

Manwë made an ambiguous gesture.  "I have been given reports, but I have never witnessed it myself.  But if you knew, why did you not try to help him correct his ways?"

"He has," Nienna chimed in.  "Many times, Tulkas has come to me or my brothers, seeking our guidance in matters such as this.  We kept the matter private, so as not to cause him undue embarrassment."

Tulkas's expression grew sheepish.  "I know my weaknesses," he admitted.  "I'm not terribly perceptive when it comes to social subtleties.  I had my own reports about Lintamacar's less than sterling behavior, but I hadn't a clue about how to deal with it, other than giving him a sound thrashing — which I already know won't solve anything.  I know he thinks that the warriors who fought in the War of Wrath didn't receive the rewards they deserved, but he never stops to think that the people he expects to reward him also fought in the war.  Nienna and Irmo and Námo have given me advice about how to help him see that this is something he should just put behind him, but he's been thicker-headed than I've ever been.  I don't know what he really wants that he isn't getting."  

He glanced at Olórin and Elennúro, his dark green eyes sad.  "I'm sorry if he's hurt either of you.  I can see that I'm going to need to take a firmer stance with him."

Vórimanil shook his head, setting his thick golden-brown curls dancing.  "Not you, my lord; us.  I fear that many of the Maiar who serve you have known of Lintamacar's behavior for some time.  We grew so tired of hearing him spout his opinions without listening to those of others that we have chosen to ignore him.  We had hoped that he would eventually grow tired of having a deaf audience and at least be quiet about it, but it would seem that he has merely taken his crusade elsewhere, to more sympathetic ears.  If we had taken a more active stance rather than employ passive aggression, perhaps it would not have come to this."

"Perhaps," Námo said thoughtfully.  "And yet, even this may serve a greater good.  Some wounds are never seen for what they truly are until they cause pain, and thus is the proper cure found."  The Doomsman cocked one raven-black eyebrow at Manwë.  "Am I correct in assuming that you wish for those who have been spreading rumors, like Lintamacar, to continue doing so until court is held, so that they will make themselves more obvious?"

The Elder King smiled.  "Precisely.  It was also in part my intent that Olórin be invited to this council so that those spreading certain rumors concerning his status among the Ainur will become all the more convinced that the purpose of the coming court is to have all our peoples witness his... promotion."

"Yet that cannot be the true purpose," Yavanna said, a statement rather than a question.  "It was given to me to know much of all living things, and I know that the only true difference between the Valar and Maiar are the scope of the abilities we were given in our making, and the rank to which you, Manwë, were appointed by the One.  We who were made to be teachers and guides to our younger brethren are no less their brethren, no matter how the social distinctions may have arisen since the beginning, especially since we entered Eä."

"But this makes no sense," said Mairosámo.  His reaction caused several eyebrows to raise, partly because he would ordinarily have first asked leave to speak, and partly because Olórin was not the only one to have noticed his demeanor.  "It is plain that we are different.  I know that I could not hope to do the things the Valar have done.  I have not the power, and it is clear to me that this was Lord Eru's will for me.  I could never aspire to such rank."

Oromë favored his messenger with a half-hidden smile.  "That may be so, Mairosámo, but differing rank does not make you of a different kind.  Taurëner, your brother, is much younger than you, and his skills are unremarkable, are they not?"

The Maia frowned.  "Perhaps so, my lord, but he has always done what he can to serve the interests of all Arda.  He is much loved by the Avari he has helped to settle in your forests."

The Hunter made a dismissive gesture.  "Yes, but their praise is worth little.  They are mere Elves, and of a kind who did not see fit to come on the great journey to Aman.  They are here only because they died, and had to be sent somewhere after their rebirth.  Taurëner took the job of guiding them because no one else wanted it, and he had not the skill to be even one of the Mentacolindor."

His tone was so belittling, Mairosámo bristled, fairly leaping to his feet.  "Nonetheless, he is still my brother, and has not earned anyone's contempt!  It is not required of us by the One that we both be a part of the same order.  That he does a task others see as menial does not lessen my love for him, or my respect—!"

When he saw Oromë's smile broadening, he choked to a halt, swallowing his words as he realized that the other Valar, and many of the Maiar, were smiling, too.  With that realization came another, which drained the color from his face.  His anger melted away as he abruptly turned his face from his lord.

Oromë, however, spoke gently.  "Yes, you see my point, I think.  Your brother is as worthy as any of my people, for he does the work he has taken upon himself gladly, and has pride in a job well done.  Because you are of another order does not make him less than you, nor you greater than he.  Power or talent or even position alone does not confer true superiority.  You are brothers because our Father created you to be so in His thought, and any of who think less of you for having a brother who has, in their minds, lesser rank than you is worse than a fool."

Now, Mairosámo's whole face reddened.  Hesitantly, he raised his eyes to Oromë.  "Then I have been worse than a fool, my lord, for to my shame, I have harbored such thoughts of others."  

When the Hunter nodded his acceptance of the Maia's confession but said nothing, Mairosámo understood his unspoken thought.  He turned to face Manwë and Olórin, his bearing one of remorse.  "I beg the pardon of both of you, for though I have not spoken against you to others, I have felt great anger and bitterness toward you, ever since the conclusion of yesterday's Reckoning.  I... was not drawn into a discussion, as was Elennúro, but I heard many things.  In my own mind, I agreed with those who felt that you, my Lord Manwë, had deliberately chosen to interpret the One's words that Olórin was to deliver as meaning that he was your brother so that you might give to him greater rank and stature and reward with impunity.  The message contained no specific mention that you are brothers, after all.  That interpretation was made by Lords Námo and Irmo, and was supported by the other Valar.  To me, it appeared that those who believed this to be a conspiracy of the Valar to honor one who was a favorite seemed well substantiated."

The reactions to that remark ranged from sighs to winces to thinly disguised irritation.  It was Nienna who answered it aloud.  "If it is a common belief among the Maiar that Olórin is a 'favorite' of the Valar, then they are only partially in error.  By using that word, it is implied that he is shown preferential bias for no just reason.  That is not so.  Indeed, he has often been asked to take up difficult and dangerous tasks that a true 'favorite' would have been spared.  But if it meant that he is well loved by us, then that is no mistake.  He has offered and given and done and sacrificed much, both in small and great degree, out of loyalty and respect and love of us, and this world in which we have all had a part in the making.  Even if it was a misinterpretation to call Olórin Manwë's true brother, is this not a matter between the two of them alone?  Do they not have the right to choose the nature of their relationship?"

"It is not a misinterpretation," the Elder King said in a mild tone, but his declaration firm.  "We have sought the direct counsel of our Father, and He has confirmed the relationship:  we are indeed brothers in fact, for so He created us from our beginnings.  It grieves me all the more to know that this revealed truth which has brought so much joy to my heart and soul has become a source of pain to others."

Mairosámo had the good grace to flush with shame.  "For myself, it is not pain, my lord, but envy, which I now regret most deeply.  Before he was sent as your emissary to Endorë, I was acquainted with Olórin; we worked together in the healing of Avathar.  Never have I known him to seek glory or status or praise, even when he had earned it beyond doubt.  But I am of Lord Oromë's people.  I love not only my lord, but all those things that are a part of his domain — horses in particular.  I love them for their beauty and their swiftness, and their spirit, willing to serve but strong and free.  I have sometimes imagined that I myself shared such traits.  It has been my pleasure to check upon the welfare of those I see throughout Aman when I journey as his messenger.  When the steed called Shadowfax came upon the ship that returned Olórin from Endorë, I thought that he was sent to be a gift to my lord, as the ancestors of the Mearas had been my lord's gift to the Atani, long ago."

The golden-haired Maia fidgeted uncomfortably.  "When I came to understand that not only was he Olórin's alone, and that he refused even to bear my Lord Oromë, I felt it the gravest of insults.  I let that anger rankle within me, and yesterday, when I heard rumor that the Valar intended to make Olórin one of their number, I assumed that Shadowfax had remained his because it had long been conspired to make this... change in his status.  I see now that I was wrong, and have been wrong for many years.  For this, I most humbly beg your pardon."  His deep bow included not only the two he had most recently maligned, but all the Valar, whom he had accused of complicity in such a conspiracy.

Oromë grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.  "You have always been commendably loyal, Mairosámo, but perhaps you should have mentioned some of this to me sooner.  It is not quite correct to say that Shadowfax refuses to bear me.  Rather, he does not wish to usurp what he considers the great privilege of the immortal Nahar, and risk insulting him.  That would not happen, of course, but I decided to let the two of them settle the matter on their own.  If Nahar someday persuades Shadowfax to change his mind, I will welcome the opportunity to ride him, but if he does not, I will respect Shadowfax's decision.  He, too, has earned the honor of choosing his own life, for he is mortal, and placed himself in great peril when he became Olórin's friend and ally in the final war against Sauron."

Mairosámo nodded, ruefully.  "I see that now, and regret my presumption."  His lifted his head to regard Olórin with contrition.  "I am sorry to have wronged you in my heart, and hope that I may still have the privilege to call you friend."

The Istar smiled in return.  "You may, and gladly.  I must confess, I had no notion that you felt this way toward me, until you entered this room tonight.  But I assure you, you are far from the first to take offense at Shadowfax's obstinacy.  I grieve that this might have led you to think ill of Lord Manwë and the other Valar, but as you came to see your error and admitted to it with only a bit of urging from Lord Oromë, I believe that no lasting harm has been done."

"As do I," the Elder King concurred.  "Unlike others, you kept your thoughts and feelings to yourself, and made no attempt to manipulate those of others.  I am glad that you spoke of this freely, for I believe that what you and Elennúro have told us provide excellent examples of the trouble that has been brewing among our people.  What was revealed during the Reckoning has but served to bring this greater matter to light."

Eönwë's request to speak was instantly granted.  "I suspect that as it is part of their purpose to listen carefully, the other Mentacolindor may have similar examples to report.  As I am here tonight in Arinvílë's stead, and am also your herald, I would like to report those things that have come to my attention." At Manwë's nod, he proceeded to tell details of the things he had witnessed during the autumnal festivities, as well as of his meeting with Lintamacar and Elennúro that afternoon.

"They ostensibly came to air their grievances concerning the purpose of the coming court," the Herald said calmly after he had related the actual incident.  "In hindsight, I believe that Lintamacar deliberately persuaded Elennúro to join forces with him so that he could use Elennúro's position as Lady Varda's messenger to more easily arrange a private meeting with me, in which he might manipulate me into revealing the specific purpose of the court which I announced."

Elennúro's expression changed from poorly hidden guilt to sudden realization.  Varda favored him with a reassuring glance even as she asked Eönwë, "Did you?"

The Herald smiled wryly.  "Certainly not, my lady, and I know that Elennúro was unaware of this hidden agenda.  I could hardly reveal something which I do not know, and I was not about to entertain others with my speculations."

As it was Eönwë's habit to open his mind in ósanwë when giving reports before the Valar, all could perceive his memories and perceptions of all the incidents of which he had spoken.  Elennúro was relieved, but Nessa sighed softly.  "It's sad, that this has come to pass.  In the early days, I rather liked Lintamacar, his sense of humor and his joy in the world; he was much like a son to my husband and I.  It was the long, long wars with Melkor that changed him.  Too much strife, too many things that were made fair despoiled by Melkor's jealousy twisted his joy in our Music into something crooked and bitter.  It seems strange to me that Lintamacar cannot see that what he most hated in our fallen brother has taken root in his own heart."

"All too often, that is the way of things," Irmo said regretfully.  "We cannot see when we share some measure of the negative qualities we despise in another, because for ourselves, we make excuses and find justifications to make our own behavior acceptable.  I cannot believe that we will find complete healing for these troubles in one effort, but we must at least begin the process."

All the others agreed.  "So," said Vána, "is the true purpose of the court to expose those of our people who have been spreading false rumor and encouraging slander?"

Námo smiled faintly.  "Not precisely. I believe its true purpose will be to encourage them to freely reveal themselves, so this will come to the notice of all in a way that cannot be called accusation."

When he glanced sidelong at the eldest of them, Manwë nodded.  "That is my hope.  I dislike the subterfuge it might require, and I will not lie outright; it would be the same sort of behavior we wish to correct.  But it has been a very long time since we held a full court, and never before has there been such a revelation as this.  It would not be untoward for us to acknowledge it with a gathering of all our people, for there are certain to be many who wish to express their feelings on the matter.  They should be said openly, and if some require encouragement to speak their minds where others can hear rather than in secret, so be it."

"Both congratulations and condemnations," Aulë said with a snort.  "Is this agreeable to you, Olórin?  I think we all know how you feel about being the focus of attention."

The Istar's smile was wry.  "I have no problem being the focus of attention when I feel it is warranted, my lord," he said puckishly.  "In this case, I find that it is warranted for several reasons, one being the novelty of the situation, and the other being the more serious matters that it has drawn to our attention.  They need to be resolved, and if my cooperation will allow the necessary healing to begin, I am more than willing to go along with whatever Lord Manwë has in mind."

"And what does Lord Manwë have in mind?" Yavanna asked, her tone one of droll amusement.

The Elder King's answering smile was mischievous, and not only for Yavanna, but for all present, both Valar and Maiar.  "One in which all of us might play a part — and which might be ably assisted by the Mentacolindor.  Allow me to explain...."

Next:  At the Faire