XVII

Unraveling Threads

When Olórin left his home in Lórien, he went not to his rooms in the mansion in Valmar, but instead to those that had been given him in the uppermost levels of Ilmarin.  At the moment he arrived, in a council chamber on the lowest floor, Manwë and several of the other Valar were just concluding a meeting with the Elves who had been placed in charge of their respective people's colonization efforts.  The Elder King was aware of his brother's arrival, and though he could sense that Olórin had come seeking him, he hesitated to join him.  The head of the Noldorin delegation had suddenly raised another question, and Manwë was torn between his desire to go and his keenly-felt sense of duty.

"Go," Varda told him softly, taking him aside into an adjacent corridor while Oromë and Aulë answered the Elf.  She, too, had sensed Olórin's arrival elsewhere in the great mansion, and she had read her husband's reaction with equally keen clarity.  "These discussions will continue for months before any expedition is mounted, and you need not be present for every moment of every session."

"But my duty to the Children—"

"—does not include managing every aspect of their lives, particularly when there are others of us who can assist them just as ably as you — perhaps more so," she added with an amused but meaningful lift of one elegant eyebrow.  

When Manwë reacted with a look of mildly shocked surprise, she sighed softly and laid one hand on his arm.  "Beloved, none of us have been more assiduous than you in honoring those duties we took upon ourselves when we came into this incarnate world.  But from our beginnings, we have also had duties to ourselves that are a part of the great Gift we were given when the One created us.  You sometimes neglect those personal duties in favor of others, and while it is often for the sake of a greater good, this time, it is not."

Now, her spouse regarded her with curiosity.  "And what makes this time different?" he asked, curious rather than offended.

There was something of both mischief and compassion in Varda's answering smile.  "The fact that you have been working so hard since Eruhantalë, you haven't truly taken more than a few moments to truly enjoy the gift that you were given that day — and neither has Olórin.  You know as well as I that there is naught that occurs within our Father's will that is done without reason, and often many more than one reason, which we cannot fully see.  You remember the message He sent, that the time had come for what had been most sorely wounded by Melkor's betrayal to at last be healed."

Now, he was puzzled.  "And you believe that discovering my kinship with Olórin was not the means of healing?"

The star queen shook her head.  "Not wholly.  He has always been your brother, whether you knew it or not.  And I believe that you learned of it now because both of you are in need of great healing.  You have both suffered betrayals and losses, but none so grievous as what was lost when your innocence of heart was sullied by the deliberate malice of those who had once been dear to you."

Manwë was silent as he reflected on her words.  He knew that she referred not to the terrible mistake he himself had made in ordering Olórin to take on a dangerous task against his will — which for all its shortsightedness had not been done out of malice — but to the betrayal of Curumo, who had been as a brother to the Maia for many years.  "Your point is well taken," he admitted with a grateful nod.  "But that healing will take more time than any of us have to spare, now."

"Agreed," Varda acknowledged graciously.  "But the task that is never started takes longest to complete."

He chuckled softly, recognizing her paraphrase of something once said by Hamfast Gamgee, later repeated by his son.  "An apt reminder.  I shall leave things in your capable hands, then, unless you believe the others would object to my absence for a few hours."

She wrinkled her nose and gave a ladylike sniff.  "I would object," was her stern rejoinder.  "I intend to tell them, and any who ask, that you and Olórin are unavailable for the remainder of the day, at the very least.  I would prefer that it be the remainder of the year, but with Yuletide coming soon, I know that's quite impossible."

Manwë smiled wryly.  "And do you have any specific plans for what we should do with this time, O my Queen?"

She lifted her chin, eyes flashing as brightly as the stars -- but twinkling as well.  "I expect you both to take a vacation from duty and find what mutual healing you can in whatever fashion you find enjoyable.  And should I discover even the slightest evidence that either of you have done so much as answered a question about the correct spelling of Avathar or how many days remain until the beginning of Yuletide, you will both learn just how serious I am!"

He bowed deeply, his own eyes alight with both humor and affection.  "As my lady commands," he replied most sincerely, then gave her a warm but gentle kiss before he departed.

**********

In the private quarters high in the mansion, he found Olórin in the rooms he had been given, seated on the floor beneath the clear crystal dome and looking up at the magnificent view of the stars visible here, be it night or day.  When Manwë entered, he did not turn away from his study of the heavens, although the Vala felt and returned his greeting in osánwë.  The words the Maia spoke aloud were soft and filled with wonder.  "I will never cease to be amazed by the difference in perception one can experience when in hröa, even a very temporary fana.  I can remember when the stars were first made, and I know most all there is to know of their structure and nature, yet when I see them through physical eyes rather than through our native senses, I better understand why Eä was made to be the abode of the Children, not our kind.  I came to realize this most fully when I made the crossing from Aman to Endórë in the body of a Man, and first stood upon the deck of that small grey ship at night.  It was a humbling experience, but one I have never regretted."

Without a second thought, Manwë settled down on the floor beside his brother and turned his own gaze up toward the stars above.  "I must confess, I haven't noticed it personally — but then, the fanar I choose are generally much less complex in actual substance than the ones you've often adopted in your work among the Children."

"Understandable.  The higher degree of physicality is usually needed only when one lives among the Eruhíni for extended periods in their communities outside Aman, and there has yet to be a need for you to do so." 

The Vala nodded.  "That has not been my purpose here in Eä — though at times, I wish it had been otherwise.  I have envied you your closeness to the Children, and the seeming ease with which you have become a part of their lives, however briefly."  

He looked away from the stars above to favor his brother with a small, wry smile.  "But I sense that neither of these things are what brought you here."

Olórin's soft sigh was an answer in itself.  His head dropped, turning his face away from the stars for several moments before he spoke.  "No, they are not," he agreed, having decided to go directly to the point.  "These past two months, I've been working to find the answer to a very knotty puzzle — and yet it seems that whenever I come close to unraveling the strands of it, they twist into a new and even more puzzling knot."  Without further urging, he explained to Manwë not only the difficulties he'd encountered in attempting to discern some pattern among the motives of the disaffected Maiar, but also his frustrations of that day, trying unsuccessfully to find a place where he could simply think in peace.

When he was done, Manwë remained quiet for a few moments, not only to allow the Maia a bit of the peace he'd sought, but also to ponder the other matters he'd described.  At length, he took a deep breath, then let it out in a gentle sigh.  "It does seem as if there is a commonality between them, or at least among those whose grievances have been most profound.  The loss of or injury to friends and kin would indeed be a powerful motivator, but Lintamacar has no such history.  He has no kin, nor has he lost any of those he calls friend to injury or the Dark."

"Are you certain there are none he left behind in the Timeless Halls when he chose to enter Eä?Tintinallë, I've found, was distressed by seeing the truth of my death because she has siblings who remained with our Father, and of whom she very much desires news.  The same is true of Astaldaron, although he feels that since his lord Tulkas was allowed to change his mind and come late to Arda, others, like his brothers, should have been permitted to do the same."

The Elder King snorted most unregally.  "Which is a mistaken presumption, since Tulkas had always wished to come.  It was Eru Who asked him to hold back, knowing as He did that his particular gifts would be of poor use in our early work, yet would make a great difference at a later time.  Tulkas knew his own nature well enough to agree to the delay, without hesitance or regret."  The wrinkle of a small frown creased his ageless brow.  "I find it surprising that Astaldaron believes what he does, as our Champion has never kept this a secret from anyone, least of all his people."

Olórin agreed.  "It may well be a willful ignorance on his part.  He has always been impatient, and I suspect he rushed to come into Eä before he had fully thought through the consequences of his choice."

"A mistake many of our people made, for none of us could comprehend what it meant to exist within Time until we had actually done so.  A wonder for some, but a terrible shock to others.  While the vast majority of us adjusted to the difference — indeed, learned to rejoice in it — there remain a few among us who did not."

Olórin pondered this for some moments, then at last turned his gaze directly to his brother.  "If he were one of those few, that could explain Lintamacar's behavior.  But I rather felt he preferred Eä to our Home — for the opportunities to do battle, if naught else."  He let out a sharp, frustrated sigh.  "Perhaps my failure to unravel this puzzle is due to nothing more than the fact that there is no puzzle to be solved!  But I've not been able to dismiss the feeling that I am meant to do so."

He abruptly looked away again, not up at the stars, but down, at nothing.  Before he could speak, Manwë settled one hand on his shoulder.  Both the touch and his tone of voice — audible as well as in osánwë — were full of warm compassion.  "And it may well be so. Your heart has seldom been mistaken in these matters, for you lack the ambition and selfish pride that would mislead others into such beliefs."  His words grew even more gentle.  "I understand your frustration, Olórin.  The task you have taken upon yourself is an important one, and the days grow few before it should be completed."

There was gratitude in the Maia's face when he looked up again.  "Yes, exactly!  If I am meant to do this and I fail...!"

Manwë's fingers tightened, staying him before he could say more.  "Then you will not fail alone," he said firmly.  "This entire situation we find ourselves in is the result of many small failures, that reach back well before we finished the shaping of Arda.  Do not blame yourself, especially before the task is done."  

He gave a moment for that advice to sink in before chuckling, softly and ruefully.  "Varda gave me some advice of her own before I came here.  I thought she might have been exaggerating at the time, but now, I see her wisdom."  He elaborated when Olórin's expression became curious.  "She said that both you and I have been far too diligent, these past few months, devoting ourselves to our work without taking the time to properly care for ourselves.  I know that I have certainly been guilty of it."

"As have I," the Istar confessed.  "I understand that I haven't been the cause of the unrest among our people, only a catalyst by which it became revealed — which nonetheless makes me feel responsible for finding a solution, if one exists."  He exhaled in a long sigh, his eyes focused but not truly seeing his own bare toes.  "When I came here, I'd thought to ask your help in finding it.  Now, I think that I should ask your help in determining if there's an answer to be found."

Manwë smiled even as he shook his head, noting the direction of Olórin's gaze.  In the vastness of his thoughts, a wisp of an idea began to form.  "If you feel there is, there is.  Possibly not the answer you expect, but something that may nevertheless help us heal the troubles among us."  

Still smiling, the idea becoming more certain in its shape, he clasped the Maia's shoulder more warmly, then stood and offered him a hand up.  "For now, set aside your worries.  Varda has decreed that we must spend at least the remainder of today enjoying the gift we were given by our Father on Eruhantalë, and her suggestion is sound.  We both need to put away our duties and troubles for a time, and thus perhaps return to them with lighter hearts and clearer minds."

Though he did not need it, Olórin accepted the assist as a gesture of kindness.  His own smile was wry.  "I'd intended to find a bit of rest and quiet before coming here, but I was thwarted in every attempt — which inclines me to believe that Someone wanted me to come here.  Did Lady Varda also suggest an itinerary, or a destination that might suit?"

The Vala laughed softly.  "No, she wasn't quite that presumptuous, though I think she may have had a number of suggestions to offer, should we have difficulty coming up with ideas of our own."  He glanced up at the star-strewn skies above, remembering the long-gone years before they and the rest of Eä had taken their final forms.  "I'd thought that we might leave Arda for a short while, to enjoy a part of our greater Song well away from the troubles facing us here."  

When he lowered his gaze, he saw the expected hesitance on his brother's face, and a small sigh escaped him.  "But I suspect that you wouldn't truly enjoy such an excursion just yet.  Or am I mistaken?"

Olórin's expression became sheepish as he shook his head.  "No.  It's not that I no longer find joy in such things, but...  I've been too strongly tied to Arda for this past age, in a way I'd never been before.  The hurts I suffered from my time in true flesh have healed, but I'm afraid I haven't as fully unraveled the emotional bonds in my heart."

"Perfectly understandable," he was assured as Manwë laid one arm around his shoulders in a brotherly gesture of comfort.  "And some of those ties will always be with you, which is as it should be.  You gave the peoples of Endórë your love in your efforts to help them, and love freely given is never wholly forgotten."

"No, never forgotten," Olórin agreed as he relaxed into the embrace, unaware until that moment of just how tense he had been.   He gave the Vala a wan smile.  "I suppose I sound as if I regret returning to my life here, as a Maia.  I don't, not in the slightest.  But Endórë has its own beauties, despite the attempts of our enemies to destroy or subjugate it, and living there as one of the Eruhíni for two millennia helped me to see those beauties more clearly.  And the Mortals are a wonder I learned to appreciate all the better for having lived as one of them.  I shall miss it all, the joy of close association with both the peoples and places of Endórë."

Now, Manwë knew for certain that the idea which had been taking form in his mind was precisely the answer he needed to comply with Varda's wishes.  Idly, he wondered if his queen had had this in mind all along.  If so, she was right in requiring him to find it on his own, for it came with the gift of understanding.  "It has been a very long time since we dared to walk openly in Middle-earth," he said, with regret.  "Oh, not so long in our reckoning, but the longer we watch over the Eruhíni and share our lives with those who dwell in Aman, the more we grow accustomed to regarding time as they do."

He turned his gaze to the Maia leaning against his shoulder, his own eyes bright with mischief.  "It seems that what's needed now is an easement for what we both miss, in our own ways."

It took a few moments before Olórin grasped the greater meaning of that remark.  He lifted his head and stood straighter.  "Do you — my lord, are you suggesting that we go to Endórë?  Now?"

Manwë made a sound of disapproval, though the merry gleam in his eyes remained.  "Now, now, I thought we'd agreed, none of this 'my lord' business in private!  And of course now.  Varda made it clear that she wants us to spend some brotherly time together, and preferably well away from this house, or any other place where we might be importuned and dragged back to our duties.  You miss the Mortal lands, and I've not had a chance to do more than observe them from afar since the War of Wrath.  Not the best opportunity to appreciate their beauties, I'm sure you'll agree, and much has changed since then.  Since neither of us are bound as you were during your time as my emissary, it would take only a thought for us to return here, should we be needed.  But I think that for at least a few hours, Eä can continue to exist without you and I overseeing it."

For several moments more, Olórin simply stood there, blinking up at his brother while he took in all he'd just said.  "I would like that," he finally admitted.  "But are you exaggerating just for my benefit?  Has it really been so long since you've visited Arda, in person?"

The answering nod was sad.  "And much longer since I walked upon that land in a time of peace.  Not since the Lamps and Almaren were destroyed.  It may not be the vision of perfection we once imagined in our Songs, and I know that our elder brother's poisons still mar the very fabric of the world, but I should still like to walk upon it, to see and feel how it lives and thrives despite him — in person, as you say."

The Maia understood that by this, he meant in fana, rather than in their natural unclad state.  He spent yet another handful of moments considering the implications; then he nodded.  "Then you should choose where we go, since it has been so long since your last... ah... visit."

Manwë laughed, a sound of pure amusement.  "So I cannot count on you to be my — how might it be called? — my experienced tour guide?"

Olórin's own laugh was brightly joyful.  "I would gladly give you the benefit of whatever experience I have to make the journey an enjoyable one, but the honor of choosing our destination should be yours.  After all, you haven't set foot upon Middle-earth for literally Ages, while I've had the pleasure of walking the length and breadth of much of it for most of the one just passed!"

The Vala conceded the point with good humor.  He tightened the arm about the Istar's shoulders in a quick embrace, then released him to step back slightly.  "Then let us away, before Varda comes and treats us both to a well-deserved tongue lashing when she finds us still here!"

Still laughing, Olórin took the hand Manwë offered, then felt the Elder King's familiar and comforting power enfold him as he thought them both away to his chosen destination.

Next:  Where Many Paths and Errands Meet

***

Author's Note:  My apologies to anyone who has been waiting for me to resume writing this story.  I've been suffering from severe depression for the last few years, and a recent visit to the ER finally pushed me to take serious steps to deal with it.  The first positive result of it is this chapter, which I hope will be the first of many as my treatment progresses.  I thank you all for your understanding and your patience.