Book 1 The Master of Rivendell
i The Valar consult
The gardens of Lórien bloomed in the crystal-pure light of day. Estë, who loved to sleep on her island during the heat of the day, felt unable to rest, so eager was she to see and tend the blooms which grew in glorious profusion around her. The season in Arda was turning to autumn, but there was no winter in Lórien since the Valar had settled here Ages ago, on the plains of the Pélori.
Yet, despite the beauty of the day, Irmo, Estë's spouse, who was known by the name of their gardens, came across to her island, looking surprisingly grave.
"Husband, I do not know why you frown," Estë chided gently. "Look - it is a beautiful day, and the perfume of our mallorn leaves sweetens the very air we breathe."
Irmo sighed deeply, and looked over their golden trees with a love mingled with sad yearning.
"My servant, the Lord of Lórien in Arda, sends me grave tidings of gathering war abroad," he said. "The Lady of the Galadhrim sends forth her friends the eagles to fly over all the world, and they return with ill tidings. The servant of - him whom we do not name - is making more mischief than he has done in an Age. What must we do, Estë? Shall we stand by while Arda burns and tears itself to pieces once more?"
Estë paused in her work of tying off the roses that bloomed in brilliant profusion around her.
"I am sorry to hear it, Irmo," she said. "What does the Lady of Light say?"
For she had seen Varda, spouse of Manwë, Lord of Arda, visit their gardens but yesterday, and she guessed that this news had been discussed with her.
"She says much as the Lord of Lórien does," said Irmo. "She fears that the Evil One has the worst intentions towards our beloved Arda since his fell lord first went forth from his grim fortress in the Iron Mountains and struck down the lights of Great Illuin and Ormal. What evil portends now, none can say. I fear that we have slept too long in Aman, Estë, beloved. The Valar must meet and consult at once. We must be sure that we have done all we can to avert this disaster."
"Did not we come to Aman in full knowledge that we could no longer save Arda from the death-giving ways of him - whom we do not name?" asked Estë reasonably. "I feared it at the time - for it was certain that if we crossed the Sundering Seas, he would do all in his power to gain control over the Outer Lands, and that he has done, and done treacherously well."
"I know you said so, beloved," said Lórien, deeply troubled. "I fear that our wish to avoid strife has unwittingly played into his hands. I shall go to the Lord Manwë at once, for he is Lord of Arda and only he can decide what to do, though with our help. Do you come when we call you, for your flowers must tend themselves today!"
"As you say, my love," said Estë serenely, and continued with her work while she could.
Within the hour, the great horn of Eönwë, herald of Manwe, sounded with a clear, pure note throughout the Pélori plain, and the Valar assembled in Máhanaxar, the Ring Doom, which stood outside the golden western gates of Valmar. Here the greatest consultations of Aman took place, and the Eldar came forth from their city of Tirion to see the Valar assemble.
Here came Lord Manwë, Lord of Arda, in all his state, his sapphire eyes bright as the blue dawn in the south of the Outer Lands, when a fine day was betokened. Eönwë, bearing his standard, came with him, he who commanded the forces of the Valar during the War of Wrath, and was the greatest soldier and servant of the Valar. Here came also the Lady Varda, she who commanded the Light, and with her the Lord Oromë, chief hunstman of the Valar, who rode often in the forests of Middle-earth. His love for Arda and all that was made there was well known. They and their companions, the eight High Ones, who ought to have been Nine - but for the rebellion of the one who was no longer named - took their places in the Inner Ring of Máhanaxar, and waited for the lesser Valar and their Maiar to assemble behind them.
Respectful silence fell as Lord Manwë rose and addressed the glittering company, his deep voice sombre. He said that Irmo and the Lady Varda had asked for this consultation, and he was not averse to it, for the time had come when the Valar must once again consider the fate of Middle-earth. He reported what had been said of the state of Middle-earth from various of the servants of the Valar, and that it seemed the mischief-maker was brewing a further plan to destroy it - if he could. They had fought many battles for Arda, which were well known, and need not be recounted here, he said, and the question before them was what form their opposition should now take. At this he sat down solemnly.
After a moment of silence, a long discussion broke out, which ranged far and wide, tossed from side to side of the Ring of Doom. Despite Manwë's injunction, the history of Arda was inevitably discussed again in great detail, as is ever the way when a knowing group such as these High Ones congregates. They spoke of the bitter way in which their best efforts to forge a land worthy of the One, a fair dwelling for the Children, had been suborned again and again by that unworthy being who now remained all-but imprisoned in his fortress of Angband, near the regions of everlasting cold.
"Is he truly imprisoned, my Lord Manwë?" enquired the practical Yavanna, the giver of fruits, sister of Oromë. She also loved Middle-earth beyond most, and still travelled there, when she could. And she had little fear of speaking her mind, even to the Great One. Even the Eight, however, were subdued by the boldness of the question, while the ranks of the Maiar trembled.
Lord Manwë's face darkened.
"He cannot come forth," he said, his reverberating voice the very voice of doom, and Máhanxar shivered. "I will not permit it." And no one dared question him further.
"But his servant Sauron has taken the mantle of the Dark Lord, and does great mischief on his behalf," said Yavanna doubtfully. "Perhaps we have tolerated this upstart Maia too long! Who is he but one of Aulë's people, and how has he acquired so much power to himself?"
She turned her mild brown eyes upon Aulë, the great builder and craftsman of the Valar, who now rose to speak, with a stern glance around him, the jewels in his hair flashing in the morning sun.
"I hear what you do not say, my Lady Yavanna, but perhaps would wish to. I have long wished for this opportunity to speak in my own defence. Let it be known that I did not make Sauron or his brother Curumo (known to Arda as Saruman) as they are today. I taught them wise and crafty ways, it is true. I taught them to build and to make good and beautiful things. But the flaw is in the nature of the work itself, I fear. Just as Yavanna makes all the good fruits of earth, she cannot prevent them from decaying, or the worms from eating them from within. Then he who eats of the fruit soon finds his body in turmoil! It is even so with all created things. From the silmarils down through the Ages, it has been possible to make great beauty, and also to bend it to the evil will of him who chooses to do evil. What are we to do, in such case? Make no more jewels, build no more great temples or palaces? I think not, any more than our great Lord Oromë thinks to give up the chase because some hunstmen kill without need or compassion."
He sat down, and the Valar reflected soberly upon his words. Lord Oromë now rose.
"Be at peace, my Lord Aulë," he said courteously. "No one accuses you. The fault lies in the envy of all good things, not in the things themselves. He who is not named here envied your skill, I fear, and so was unable to celebrate it. His end is deservedly in losing even the skills he has. Neither he nor his dark servant can make anything at all, but can only imitate the creations of others - or destroy them."
Lord Manwë now rose again. It was not his way to speak long in such consultations, for the power of his words, and the respect in which they were held, was such that it would not be an equal consultation if he did. Nevertheless, his heart was especially engaged with this matter.
"Lord Oromë speaks wisely," he said, and his deep, clear voice carried the length and breadth of Máhanaxar, so that even the very birds and the insects that crawled upon the ground paused to listen. "Let it be known that evil lies in the love of creation for its own sake, and not those things it celebrates. And evil, too, lies in the envy of creation, the desire to posses it for oneself alone and not for the greater good - which is the mirror image of its love. This is the word of the One. All things are One, even that which destroys."
A profound silence fell, for Manwë had not spoken so explicitly before in their presence, and they felt that a new and important revelation had come upon them. Many had long pondered in their hearts what the source of evil might be, and now it was clear. A great sigh echoed round Máhanaxar, and the Valar felt that a new understanding had taken root in them. Many suspected that the Third Age was reaching its climax with this pronouncement.
Lord Manwë took his seat once more, and allowed them time to ponder. At length, Yavanna the imperturbable rose once more.
"Then, it behoves us to take responsibility for the evil which now besets Middle-earth," she pointed out. "For it is ours, and not alone that of him who cannot be named."
Lord Manwë inclined his head graciously towards her but said little more that day.
The debate continued, though its tone had subtly changed. Uncounted time passed. Finally, Oromë, often spokesperson of the Valar, rose to summarize their position.
"It is our will, my Lord, that further intelligence be gathered by every means at our disposal - all will take their part in this, each according to his skill and powers. And it is further our will that all help possible be granted to your servant Olórin, now a Wizard of Middle-earth, on whom much depends, if the evil ways of Sauron are to be opposed. When further news is available to us, we shall meet again to discuss what action is best to take. And let it be soon."
Manwë rose and bowed.
"Your will is done, as always," he said gravely. "I shall send Eönwë to gather further intelligence for us, and when he returns we shall meet again."
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