I own nothing.
Artanis learns to pray as a matter of course. She is a child, and thus her parents still have a great deal of control over what she is taught. Artanis learns to pray, just as her brothers and all of her cousins have done.
Pray to Varda when she is in distress, for the queen of the stars listens to the prayers of the Eldar.
Pray to Yavanna if and when she ever works with plants.
Pray to Oromë if and when she ever goes hunting.
Pray to Estë for undisturbed sleep.
Pray to Aulë when she embarks on a new endeavor involving craftsmanship.
Pray to Ulmo that she will not drown in the ocean, nor in any other body of water.
Pray to Vairë that her threads won't get tangled when she sews.
Pray to Námo that she won't meet with death.
These prayers come as naturally to the others, all the others, it feels like, as walking around with one's eyes open. Of course, some of Artanis's family is more devout than others. Some of them only pray silently rather than lift their voices up like Artanis is taught is true prayer. Some of them do not pray at all. The same can be said for the wider society of the Noldor.
To those who do pray, the ritual words of the prayers flow thoughtlessly off their lips like water. They do not even seem to notice anymore, that they are praying. The words come automatically. It's become like breathing, something that is necessary, but for the most part, goes unnoticed.
Artanis notices, and praying isn't like breathing to her. She is entirely too conscious of the words her mouth forms in prayer.
Artanis has never seen a Vala. She knows few who have, knows that even her grandfathers and grand-uncle, the three Kings of the Eldar, are not granted audiences with the Valar except at great need. There are those who say that the Valar often walk among the Eldar unseen, but what is the point of that? What good does it do to walk unseen and never intervene? One who does that is no better than a phantom.
The Maiar are somewhat more visible. Artanis's own mother if friendly with the Maiar of the sea, especially Lady Uinen, and Artanis herself has spoken with certain Maiar on occasion. Though they are of the same stock as the Valar, the Maiar do not seem to feel the same need to separate themselves from the children of the Eldar. All the same, a Maia is difficult to find even at the best of times. One must search high and low in the places where they are known to congregate to even have a hope of finding them.
Artanis has never seen a Vala, and knows few who have. Those who have laid eyes on the Valar refuse to share the details of the experience, except to say that the majesty of the Valar is beyond description. Well, I wonder.
According to all the histories, all the chronicles of the world's making, the Valar and the Maiar sang the world into being alongside Eru Ilúvatar. That much, Artanis will not dispute. She has a feeling that if this was not the truth, everyone who claims that it is would have been struck down with lightning by now. Artanis will believe that the Ainur sang the world into being alongside All-father, and not dispute it.
But is that really enough to justify deifying the Valar the way many do?
The Minyar believe that the Valar are all-knowing, all-powerful, and that nothing they do can be wrong. They believe that the actions of the Valar are spelled out in the celestial fabric of the Ainulindalë, and that as a result, every decision they make is preordained, and should not be questioned.
The Lindar have significantly less use for the Valar. They believe that they whom they call their benefactors should not be crossed, but they lived out from under the light of the Trees for longer than any other kindred of the Eldar, and they have the greatest memory of the starlit lands of Endóre, where most of the Valar did not walk in the days of their awakening. They have gone without the Valar for far longer than the Minyar or the Noldor, and see little need for them now.
The Noldor fall somewhere in between the two. Many of the Valar's edicts hamper the Noldor's pursuits regarding the uncovering of knowledge. That, Artanis knows quite well, can foment a great deal of resentment, and from resentment comes a decided lack of reverence. But there are still many who seem to adhere to the same sort of attitude that so many among the Minyar hold, at least outwardly. They say that the Valar should not be questioned, and their will should not be defied.
Artanis isn't so sure. She isn't so sure that the Valar really deserve the devotion they are given by so many, isn't sure that they deserve being treated as though they know all and are always right. They sang the world into being, but they did so alongside All-father, and not a single one of them could have done that by themselves. Even with their combined effort, the Ainur could not have sung the world into being without All-father. They are subject to Eru Ilúvatar, the same as the Eldar. They are of a different sort of makeup, and they have certain powers that the Eldar do not, but Artanis does not see how they are any different from her people apart from that.
This blind obedience, mindless and thoughtless, given without scrutiny, it restricts the movements and activities of the Eldar considerably. Artanis feels those restrictions on her, as they tell her how her people should behave based on their sex. She feels those restrictions on her in the form of what she is allowed to study and where she is allowed to go. She feels those restrictions on her in the form of being told that it is natural for Eldar to marry soon after adulthood, and that those who do not are bound to strange fates. She feels the restrictions in the form of what she has been taught to make of the world. Why must it be that way? Why must it be that the Valar's interpretation of all of this be the one that is so widely accepted as right?
She holds the words of the prayers in her mouth, and they feel strange and unwieldy. They feel more like a curse uttered against herself, miring herself further in the quagmire of mindless obedience to those who are practically worshipped the way Ilúvatar is, but without proving that they deserve to be, and without ever even specifying that they wish to be.
Artanis looks about her, trying to search out those who feel the same way she does, uncertain and uneasy, unsure what to do about the way their loved ones perceive the Valar. There are few who are willing to let their ambivalence show on their faces, and among them, few whom Artanis counts as friends. But among those very few, she sees her feelings reflected in their eyes.
There's something wrong about this whole situation, but though they know what it is, they don't have the words to articulate it, nor, Artanis is ashamed to say, the nerve to air them aloud.