Chapter One: Fëanor Banished

Unrest shifted among the Noldor. Manwë's evil brother, Melkor, had been unchained, a decision he now genuinely regretted. For with his unchaining, he was a willing servant, humbled by the Valar, but still seeking turmoil in every possible way. For the past few months he had been gossiping to gullible Noldoli about the Valar, saying they were proud and unthankful for all the elves had done, but enslaved them because they knew that the elves were better and more powerful than they were and didn't want them to rebel. Manwë and Varda, who loved the elves very much, hoped that the wisdom of the Noldor would turn a deaf ear to one so evil, but to no avail. Melkor had appealed to their better judgment and converted their wisdom to naught, and, even worse, not even the Valar knew who had spread the rumors.

Now, as Manwë and Varda were gazing down upon Tirion from the superior peak of Taniquetil, a sense of uneasiness grew in the hearts of each. Ilúvatar had told them that soon one would rebel and threaten one of his own, and they were waiting. Waiting with a feeling of dread, knowing full well it would come from Tirion and the Noldor. Listen, Varda messaged to her spouse. I can hear conflict and raised voices in Mindon Eldaliëva.

The couple shared expectant glances and became suddenly rigid and unemotional with caution. They joined hands peered silently towards the great watch tower, for they were now one in eyes and ears; Manwë heard with the keen ears of Varda and Varda saw with the bright eyes of Manwë.

"Ha, half-brother, I know you too well. It was my guess that you would lie to my father concerning me, and I am right," Fëanor announced, striding into the throne room purposefully. He was armed in battle gear and bearing a great sword at his side, an unusual sight in Valinor if not an ominous one. He drew that powerful sword and aimed it directly at the innocence of Fingolfin, sitting politely before their father. "Be gone, you pitiful excuse of a son and take your place-before me!" he cried triumphantly, but his point was not taken. Fingolfin did not fight back. Instead, he calmly stood up and strode out of the throne room of Mindon Eldaliëva, clearly indifferent to his brother's brandishing.

Fëanor's anger burned against his half-brother at that moment, and he tenaciously followed him into the courtyard hosting the white and silver tree Galathilion. Within a matter of seconds, he had caught up with him and laid the tip of the sword blade against his chest. "Look!' he exclaimed. "My sword is sharper than your deceitful tongue. If you try once more to tear my place from my father's heart, the Noldor will lose one of their own." Fingolfin stared blankly at his scowling half-brother and gave a small smile before walking quietly away to the amaze of the hundreds that had witnessed such a scene between two elves.

On Taniquetil, the once worried faces of Manwë and Varda were now filled with sorrow and tears. Manwë looked over at Varda, her face barely visible because of her weeping. We mustn't let this behavior go unpunished, no matter how much we just want to forget it, he spoke to her alarmingly. With a quick wave of his pale hand, he summoned his most powerful servant and competent kelvar, Sorontar, King of the Eagles. "Thorondor," he commanded in a booming voice, "I command you to find Fëanor and tell him this: he shall remove his armor and set his sword aside. He must go immediately after doing that to the Ring of Doom where he will apologize to Fingolfin, and may receive rewards for his actions. Also, send some lesser eagles to bring Fingolfin, Finarfin, and Finwë, since they took part in the incident."

Manwë gracefully stood up, his robes billowing powerfully about his small frame, and offered an upturned hand to Varda, which she took with just as much poise and elegance as he. Together, they, being spirits of the air, spread long white wings and fluttered down to Ezellohar, making a dramatic entrance at the Ring of Doom. Nienna, Yavanna, a moping Aulë, Mandos and Vairë and Lórien and Estë were already seated, having expected Manwë and Varda to hold a meeting after the Fëanor incident. The other five Valar, Oromë, Vaná, Tulkas, Nessa and Ulmo, could be seen racing towards Ezellohar too, since the descent of the King and Queen of Arda from Taniquetil can only mean one thing.

Manwë and Varda seated themselves on the highest seats, with Ulmo's seat on Manwë's right and Yavanna's on Varda's left. When they were all placed, the horns of Fëanor could be heard, and all peering eyes were turned towards the scowling figure. He had obeyed Manwë's instructions to discard his armor and sword and make immediately towards the Ring of Doom, but he didn't do them with a willing heart.

The party was led by Fëanor, and behind him the contemplative figures of Fingolfin and silent Finwë. Many others were there to witness the spectacle even though they weren't involved in the business, including Fëanor's seven sons, their cousins, Fingolfin's children, and even Fëanor's other half-brother Finarfin and his four sons and daughter. "I know why you want me," he snapped as he entered the Ring of Doom in the entrance between Nessa and Tulkas. "You want to punish me for laying a sword on my brother. Well, I did the right thing and am not repenting of it!"

"That is one of the reasons we have summoned you. In addition, we desire to see if we can locate the source of the rumors that have been spread among the Noldor. Now, I will ask you questions, and you'll answer them all truthfully. Fingolfin will stand beside you and decide whether to release you when your testimony has been stated," Mandos decreed to the sullen prince whose stepbrother moved to stand next to him.

"I'm glad to see you're not talking back. Now, starting off, why did you draw your sword on Fingolfin?"

"He tried to usurp my place in my father's heart and lineage!"

"Why did you believe that?"

"He supported the Valar."

"You say that like it is something distasteful, when it is the Valar who brought you from Cuiviénen into the beautiful land of Valinor."

"To be slaves!" Fëanor's voice spat. "We would've been free in Cuiviénen, but you brought us here because you feared a rebel. Well, you've got one on you! We will not be subject to your jealous ruling and let the second children of Ilúvatar rule our kingdoms in Middle-earth!"

"Who said that to you?" Mandos asked, leaning forward in his seat as to show concern, although his face remained as passive as ever. Fëanor glared fiercely at the Vala and bellowed, "I don't know, but they have more wisdom and goodness than you or Manwë ever will!"

"Melkor," Mandos whispered softly under his breath, and Tulkas realizing the same thing stood up and left the council to hunt him down. "So you pulled a sword on Fingolfin because he didn't believe the lies of Melkor?" Namo inquired patiently. Meanwhile, Fëanor's face paled and all the anger left it. "Melkor? You mean Melkor said that? The Dark Lord?"

A small smile crept into Mandos's face. "Yes, Melkor spread those rumors which caused to pull a sword on Fingolfin. Despite that, you shall not stand guiltless. For Manwë is king of Aman and of Arda, and while he lives this behavior shall not go unpunished. You spoke of slavery. I tell you this: even if you are forgiven and in return apologize to Fingolfin, you shall be exiled as a slave."

"I forgive Fëanor," Fingolfin spoke up softly. "It was because of the Dark Lord that he behaved the way he did." Mandos nodded his head at Fingolfin politely and smiled, showing his approval. "Fëanor?" he asked as the smile disappeared, but the prince remained silent and sullen. "Will you apologize to Fingolfin?" Mandos pressed, but to no avail. Fëanor remained unmoving and downcast. "Very well. You are now exiled from Tirion, Alqualondë, and all of Valmar for twelve years, in which you will think about your decision and when that time is over, be given a second chance."

Fëanor's determined face showed less emotion than Manwë's or Mandos's as he left the Ring of Doom west, towards the green plains. Finwë and his seven sons, Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod and Amras followed him into exile, and together they founded the stronghold Formenos south of Mandos and west of Valmar.

The crowd around the Ring of Doom dispersed. Fingolfin, Fingon, Turgon, and Aredhel left together just as Finarfin and his 5 children exited about the same time. Of the remaining 13 Valar, Aulë, still moping at the loss of his greatest smith, Yavanna, Estë, Lórien, Nienna, Nessa, Ulmo, Vaná, and Oromë soon left for their courts and halls, but Mandos, Manwë, Varda and Vairë stayed behind to contemplate.

Tulkas came charging across Ezellohar, sweat beads on his brow and panting. "I just came back from scouting Valinor, and Melkor has fled south. I would've pursued further, but shadows cloaked that realm and sucked all life and energy from any passing soul."

"Is that all?" Manwë said softly. Still breathing hard, Tulkas nodded his head. "Yes. There are only so many words that can describe such morbid scenery." Breathing hard, he ran from the Ring of Doom towards his home in Valmar for rest he clearly deserved.

"The Fëanor dilemma is resolved, and another one presents itself. Why is the southern area covered in light-consuming shadows?" Vairë said inquiringly. Varda nodded her head in response, being the most talkative of the four next to Vairë. "From what Tulkas said, the shadows do consume light, but how can they tell the difference between shadow and light? They must be made of some web-like material that not only devours light, but allows shadows like Melkor through." While Varda was saying this, Manwë sat with his head in his hands, but suddenly lifted himself up, eyes bright with excitement.

"'Web-like material?' I think Varda made figured something out." He smiled triumphantly. "All of us remember the Maia Ungoliant and the rumors that she fled to Avathar when we sacked Angband. She had a singular ability to build devices that could consume one element and let another through. She must've built the 'webs' that destroy light and energy, but let shadow pass.

"And we are in even more danger now that we know Melkor's with her. Ungoliant is bad, Melkor is worse, and together they're deadly. Who's knows what stunt they'll try to pull on us?" Manwë sighed gently, and fell back into the sapphire-encrusted throne. "Mandos, what will Ungoliant and Melkor do to Valinor, and how can we prevent it or forestall it?"

Mandos sat straight up in his seat and said, for he could see events even to the Great End, "They will rob Valinor of what it holds dearest-the light of the Two Trees, and the one who can prevent it is in this council, though no one can see her." Manwë, Varda, and Vairë exchanged quizzical looks, unsure of what Namo was saying. The Valar can see the Seen and Unseen, so how could someone be present and unseen? "A Valier has conceived, and the child shall have thrice the power of her parents, enough to overthrow the Dark Lord and establish peace in Arda, for Ilúvatar himself shall bestow power upon her."

Manwë looked at Varda. Mandos looked at Vairë. Vairë looked at Varda. Namo looked at Varda. Varda looked pale and grasped the arm of her throne to keep her balance. With a slender hand on her white neck, she whispered frightfully, "I just learned yesterday I was with child."

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