Chapter 71

Returning That Which Was Borrowed

~o~

Inariel was an experienced healer, though she had never shown inductive capacity. This time she felt it pass through her husband. The silver did not bother her and she smiled hoping the brave Vala Lady's burdens were lessened. They stepped back on shore and watched her vision of the mirror before putting their shoes on and walking back hand-in-hand.

That evening when their meal was usually brought, Hanvil came to ask them to join the Lord and Lady. They hadn't seen Hanvil since they arrived. They might have been frightened after this afternoon's adventure but Nag Kath reasoned if the he hadn't been killed for incinerating Lord Manwë's brother, stealing a little pain wouldn't tip the scale.

Irmo and Estë were already seated. The Kaths bowed and took their usual places. The Lady of Healing and Hurts asked gently, "You felt the waters?"

Inariel answered, "We did, My Lady. I am sorry we could not reduce your toil."

Estë laughed. They did not know Valar laughed. Then the graceful lady smiled and said, "Oh, my dear, that is why I am here. I sleep soundly and awake refreshed. I still thank you for your care."

Irmo wove that into a thread about this curious couple, "Young lady, was it healing that brought you from Middle-earth to these shores?"

The Princess considered that carefully. She was unsure of the question but gave it her best, "My own sir. I was ill near to death as a woman. My husband saved me by giving me Elvish essence, but we think the call of the Undying Lands then overwhelmed me, as if my transformation was only passing. I have kept growing stronger since we arrived, finally able to rest."

The Lady of Healing knew her Lord's mind and asked of the male, "And did you come for the same reason, Nag Kath?"

"Oh no, ma'am. I have never felt the draw to this place, fair though it is. I wondered that it might be because so many generations of dark servants interrupted the call. Inariel needed to come here and I came because she is my wife."

The Lord of Dreams and Desires smiled, "Then we are the better for it. Inariel, you have made new friends in our garden."

"Indeed I have, My Lord. I read and rest and play with the spirits who follow me among the plants and waters. They are each unique, though very shy, Lietul especially."

The child could feel them, communicate with them. Irmo agreed, "Yes, each its own. Not everyone can sense them." Time was growing short, "I asked you both here because we are called to Valmar, something to do with your exploits, Nag Kath."

Both Inariel and Nag Kath knew that despite what seemed a cordial relationship, it could not compete with the need to rebalance Eä (the universe) after losing Melkor. It might be nothing. In the months since the battle, the sun came up. It rained and was fair in turn. Irmo wanted to keep these two close; both so he knew they would be at the council and for further study. He stated, "I grant you permission to leave when you like or you can travel with us when we go." The Vala remembered their situation and added, "In that case, your horses must stay."

The adventurous young couple knew their horses would live as well here as anywhere else and readily agreed to wait. The rest of the meal was spent talking about healers of Middle-earth and Tom Bombadil's home of dreams.

Back in their quarters, the young couple wondered if they would go back to Valmar with the Eagles of Bilbo and Frodo's tales. Might they be carried aloft to the stars and be set on far soil? While Nag Kath speculated, Inariel wondered if she really wanted to fly on the back of a large bird. For the next three weeks they did what they had for the last month. Since the Valar had not asked them to return to the lake, they didn't. There was no word from Melian either. That bothered Inariel. She missed her family. Melian was family.

~o~

Handril found them in their favorite garden picking strawberries and talking to spirits. Quieter than an Elf, he cleared his throat and they both looked up before he announced, "The Lord and Lady are ready."

The Kaths followed him back to the house where their meager bags were packed. Bedrolls, extra clothes and travel gear would stay. Nag Kath had his weapons and got special dispensation for his lucky frying pan. Handril walked them to a hallway where the Lord and Lady were waiting. Estë, a head taller than Inariel, put her arm around her shoulder as they walked further along. The Lady told her young charge, "Fear not child. I am with you."

As she said that, Irmo opened a door and walked into a windowless room lit by unseen lamps. The ladies were close behind, leaving Nag Kath to bring up the rear carrying the bags and shutting the door behind him. Irmo opened a door on the other side of the room while the Elf followed a few moments later into a small hall with tall windows along one side.

When Nag Kath reached them, Inariel's eyes were as big as Florin. Her husband set the bags down saying, "My dear, you look unwell."

Estë said gently, "She will be fit shortly." To her she added, "You are safe and sound my dear."

The Princess exhaled like she had been holding her breath and turned to Nag Kath, "I am fine. I … yes, fine."

Estë just smiled at her. Inariel collected her wits and said to Nag Kath in a loud whisper, "How can you be so calm?"

He looked at her in puzzlement but had not answered when Lord Irmo instructed, "You should go to your home now. Expect to be called at the pleasure of the council."

Both Kaths walked to the closest window and saw they were in Valmar. A servant they did not recognize bowed to them and showed them to an exterior door leading to a northern street of the city. The changeling held his lady's hand down the stairs against her being unsteady. At the bottom of the steps they saw they had arrived at the Dome of Varda. Inariel turned to him and babbled, "We passed through time and light and space in a blur. How are you not … I mean … oh, never mind."

Until he looked out the window, Nag Kath thought he was still in the Gardens of Lórien. He hadn't felt a thing. That explained how Gandalf could get down the stairs of Orthanc with no one noticing. He said helpfully, "That was convenient." On the twenty minute walk to Gandalf's she looked like she was about to blurt something but did not make a peep. Now that he assessed the trip, he thought of telling Inariel; 'welcome to the fast' but held his tongue as well.

~o~

Maid Tilidelia let them in, looking behind them for the horses before shutting the door. She reported that the master was out but should be back by dinner time. They thanked her and went to their room. Inariel sat on the bed, knees together, staring at the opposite wall. He thought the transport must have horrified her. His lovely Quenda had some healing powers and the blood of the greatest firstborn in her veins, but she was a very conventional girl. He sometimes forgot just how unusual he was, mostly because he had tried so hard to be of the people he loved.

She started to cry. He asked her what he could do but she just shook her head and wrung her hands. There was nothing else he could say and he couldn't leave her like this so he sat in his resting chair and waited. Like on the walk over, she looked at him as if to say something several times but shook her head again and sobbed.

When he least expected it, the dam burst, "Must I lose you, my love? Must you go where I cannot?"

There was no answering that. He knew more must be coming. She struggled through tears, "I have been so happy. You took my pain away and gave me hope. We traveled. You took me to see mother. You held me and loved me and made me … oh, oh …" That was as much as she could bear and she started sobbing again.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Another of the unending realizations fell from the heavens with same crushing weight of those before. As usual, he had not seen it. Since they arrived, she had become an Elf, the illness and imbalance of her heritage finally repaired. He had become a wizard. She watched his powers swell, praying they would not drive a wedge between them. He saw the skills as both a distraction and a necessary evil against the greater evil. Now the woman who loved him unreservedly feared the distance between them was growing, that or he would be reduced to the same ash as the unloved Morgoth.

He sat next to her as she watched her lap. He was not a dark lord or a light one. He was Kath of many things. When Inariel's crying became sniffles, he said quietly, "The day of your parents' drawing, I was on trial for my life. An Elf joined them since I looked more Elf than orc. He asked me what I wanted. I did not remember that. I only know now from reading Mr. Tallazh's notes. I knew I liked living and marveled at that which surrounded me. Until then, I had only wanted enough sawdust bread to live and not be beaten by the bigger Uruks. Amiedes wrote I answered I would art and music … and if I lived longer than my six-year doom, I would sing my own songs."

He paused to make sure she was listening. She looked up; one of the few women he had ever met who was still beautiful when crying. "I did art. I sang my songs. I married and loved. And I know what I want. When I am called, I will say as much and see what the great ones decide. You must not worry, dear Inara."

Gandalf's arrival ended the conversation for the moment. He was told they were in their room and he attended his own business knowing he would see them when they were ready. Dinner was an hour later and they both came. The Kaths told the wizard of their adventures among spirits and Vala and their coming to Valmar quite rapidly. Long pauses went unfilled. Afterwards, they went to Gandalf's small sitting room where he spent most of his time. The lack of cubbies suggested the old Maia needed a new project. He might tell you the Kath's were his new project.

Their host had only finished his first pipe when there was a knock on the door. Tilidelia answered and admitted a messenger from the Council of Máhanaxar. Nag Kath was to attend them at dawn. His lady wife and Orórin should come with him and might be called. That night her Elf held her chastely in bed. Neither spoke. Talking would take from the time they had to embrace and think of only good things. Neither slept nor took rest. The dawn would be here too soon.

Nag Kath had inventoried his gifts. How many of those were deserved? By one counting; none. He should have died in training, twice on the Mering Stream with an arrow in his breast and when the trooper nearly plunged a spear through his heart. He survived the army of the dead and the destruction of the One Ring. Nag Kath tried to count all the times he should have breathed his last, but there were just too many. Once, at least, he did die.

By a more charitable counting he had been given many of his gifts; some deserved, others unexplained. He had earned many of them the hard way. If he was allowed to live and was asked which of his gifts he would keep, he would answer that he liked being an Elf. He found deep joy in healing. He loved his wife and hoped to be with her.

That was it. They could have the rest. It seemed impossible, though. Even if he was stripped of magic, he still knew how. That alone would attract powers like cats to the cream. Nag Kath banished further meaningless speculation. He was holding his Inariel. That was enough.

~o~

In the residence of Irmo and Estë was a last conversation about the pending council. Estë had not originally been a Valier (female Vala). She was a strong Maia to other ladies of the court. That changed when the Elves started fighting each other. There was more pain and weariness than imagined by creator Eru Ilúvatar. War and destruction by Melkor and Sauron at their worst overwhelmed the Lady of Mercy. Twice the creator granted her greater ability to absorb the hurts and wear on men, Elves and Dwarves stretched to the brink. Those labors had decreased with the ending of the cursed rings, but she still labored long from the growing population of Middle-earth and, recently, the war in Eldamar.

Irmo spoke gently in his thoughts, "Are you sure, my dear?"

"Oh yes, husband, more every moment. They both survived the crossing, he holding iron. That was a risk."

"This is a time of risk. We had to be sure. Let us tell the others, but the timing must be flawless. Much will depend on Lord Manwë's view of the imbalance. I hope our friends will see this through."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Orórin was ready by the time the horizon started to glow. Nag Kath and Inariel joined him a few minutes later and they strode to the western gate. Elves went about their business. No one stared. This was a very private assembly. The sun was almost up when they presented themselves to the door wardens of the Circle of Doom who admitted them on sight.

While the respondents waited in the entry hall amid dozens of servants bustling to and fro, the Lords of Arda discussed matters at hand in the main chamber. They seldom met, but far-speaking only worked well individually and this was an issue that required all ears. They also wanted to know each other's unique wisdom since each Vala had such different roles. This was not a council in the manner of men or even Elves. Even the fair and understanding court of Elessar was limited by time and resources. In this realm, those were vast.

Manwë presided with his wife Varda as counselor. His primary concern was the balance. In the creation of the Ainur, Eru Ilúvatar imagined a pantheon of beings to administer the world according to their special talents. Their paths often crossed but core needs were separate responsibilities. Melkor was immediately hostile, disrupting the music of creation. He was given too much too soon, the ultimate spoiled child. Even with the great wars he caused and lack of any useful skill, he was a presence in the pressure of power. With him gone, strength was spread thin. The other Valar, Maiar and spirits down the scale had not fundamentally changed in potency since the music, adapting to Melkor's imprisonment and to the great loss of Maiar in conflict.

Manwë long struggled first with understanding the nature of his brother's betrayal and then with his punishment. No one of the council was sorry Melkor was dead. The problem was the reckoning. The gaps Manwë and his Valar had effectively covered were laid bare. Only Eru Ilúvatar could replace Ainur. Others could reshape them, yes, but not create them. Mandos prophesied Melkor would eventually escape to foment a terrible battle ending all things to start anew. But the battle that destroyed him was not as foreseen. The world remained as it was but for the drain on the surviving Ainur. Perhaps that was for the best. Manwë did not know. Suddenly, unimagined, a former orc had taken powers and betrayed the most powerful of the Ainur by secreting him out of his confinement. How was that possible? Was Melkor truly dead or was prophesy simply held in abeyance? What was done was done, but there were many more black souls floating in the Void and they should stay there.

The Elder King now considered his counselors. Some had opposed releasing Melkor the first time after so much damage. Then he did far worse. There were hard feelings about that decision. Ending the exile of the Ñoldorin fell largely along the same lines with those opposed insisting on removing Aman from grasping mortals. To the matter at hand, there were those of the council who knew more than others about this and related concerns. They had been strangely quiet on their purpose. Manwë would have them share their thoughts today. Irmo and Estë asked for a moment towards the end of the conference. Curious; that. The Master of Desires usually spoke to his peers quietly.

Manwë nodded to his chief Maia Eönwë to bring the respondent before them. Highest of the servants, the noble warrior stood immensely tall and proud, clad in bright armor and armed with steel. He walked forward to Orórin in the antechamber and bowed, receiving bows of the three in return. The herald announced, "Nag Kath, your presence is required. Orórin, please remain here. Your counsel may be asked shortly."

Nag Kath kissed the Princess on the forehead and followed the imposing warrior to the proceedings. As they disappeared behind the doors, a shorter version of the wizard emerged from the shadows to join his fellow Istari and a stunned Quenda for an overdue reunion.

~o~

The meeting hall of the Valar was shaped like a huge barrel; round, and for those standing small on the floor, a long way to the top. There were skylights illuminating equally spaced chairs ringing three quarters of the way around the room. Those were different sizes because of their unique Lords and Ladies. Some were massive. Some were normal. Quite a few of the occupants shone their own light as well but it was still hard to see the faces. Gandalf gave the Kaths a quick lesson on who sat where.

Directly in front were Manwë and Varda, she a woman of surpassing beauty and grace. Eönwë showed the changeling to a small circle in the middle of the barrel where Nag Kath bowed deeply and stood in attendance. The herald announced, "My Lords and Ladies, before us stands Nag Kath, come to answer your questions. Please proceed, My Lord Manwë."

As the Maia withdrew, the King of the Valar spoke in a voice that seemed all things at once. Powerful yet soothing, it resonated but without the confusing echoes of a cave. "Nag Kath, you are here to answer for the slaying of the Ainu Melkor. Did you do so?"

"I did, My Lord."

"Why?"

"He was long my enemy and threatened my friends, sir." No one had explained addressing these beings so he used royal protocol.

The Elder King added, "It is further said that you spirited him from his detention to accomplish this."

"That is also true, My Lord. I saw the opportunity to attack when he was weak and took it, as I would every time, lo, he was already leaking from pinholes in the fabric. I destroyed one of them in Middle-earth fifty-four years ago."

If any of the great ones had been hoping for denial or requests for clemency, they would have to adjust their approach. Vairë, weaver of that fabric, spoke sternly from the right, "By what authority did you slay a great Ainu, changeling?"

The Elf expected this, long before having decided he would be absolutely honest but not fawning. If they couldn't keep their prisoners in gaol, it wasn't his job to apologize for catching them. "Not authority, My Lady, responsibility. I was there for the farmers and their families. The two thousand slain weigh on me far more than Morgoth."

Morgoth was an insulting Elvish slur. Tulkas, who despised Melkor, enjoyed hearing it. The Lord of Strength and War should be a powerful ally to the changeling general. He called in a booming, jovial voice, "Did you challenge him from his confinement for combat, Elfling?"

The Holy Ones got their first look at the infamous Nag Kath grin, "In a manner of speaking, Lord Tulkas. I tricked him by forcing his servant to call him forth saying the battle they incited was won. He had but to claim his prize. Then, with help, I bound him in flame and sent his ashes beyond the sky. He turned to Queen Varda, "For which I apologize, My Lady."

The fairest of all creatures gave him a lilting smile and asked of a woman on her right, "I did not see him in my stars, dear Vána. Has Arien encountered upset in the day?"

Vána, Ever-young, nodded to her Queen and replied, "Yes, she said a fire-bolt passed far by her and then dissipated in the ether winds."

Vairë had no great interest in what became of the changeling but was of those concerned with Manwë's dilemma about the balance of humors. She continued, "Nag Kath, well-intentioned as you may be, it is still a grave matter of upsetting the order of things."

The Elf considered that and offered, "Yes, ma'am, though, I am not sure that I got the entirety of him. I have returned bits of him to the Void before. This may have only been a larger piece to be easily replaced."

~o~

Nag Kath seemed to catch them off guard. In what sounded like mosquitos buzzing; Manwë far-spoke a question of the Ruler of the Dead. Mandos was the husband of Vairë and keeper of the halls of souls. A lesser charge was confining evil powers. He was of the faction that did not want the Ñoldorin back and that Eärendil, Inariel's great grandfather, should be destroyed for returning to implore help against Morgoth. A man might be defensive since it was his gaol the dark lord tunneled through, but these beings were not that fragile.

The Doomsman said in a voice almost too low to understand, "Nay, My Lord. Your brother is entirely destroyed. I went myself. Others confined there remain. They do not have the power or energy to constantly claw the walls of their confinement. A smaller breach has also been sealed."

Aulë the Smith was of two minds. He created the Dwarves. Nag Kath was a Dwarf-friend, apart from destroying one of their rings. But Sauron and Saruman were his Maia. The changeling possessed some unexplained essence of the corrupted servants. Aulë would not release them on an unsuspecting world, just as Arwen worried in Nag Kath's first trial. Stating the council's concerns for the future, the Lord of Craft demanded, "And now that he is no more, do you, with your Maiar powers, think to petition this august assembly for entry?"

Nag Kath was surprised. The Elf quickly considered their point-of-view. It was impossibly rare, from the stable-boy to the gods, that one would destroy someone of power without intending to usurp them. In the absence of knowing the unique changeling, a scholar of his life could easily claim it was a ruthless exercise in the accumulation of power. He did his sums too. Each of these great ones, Those Who Are Named, would have rejoiced that Melkor was conveniently removed from potential resurrection by an insignificant Uruk-hai Templagk. That said; they could not conceive Nag Kath's ambitions were honorable.

Ulmo, the Sea King, built on Aulë's thread. "Indeed, you summon all powers to yourself!"

If any one or a combination of them had been slipping Nag Kath powers under the table, they had ample opportunity to mention that privately. Perhaps it was better to finally smash the expendable orc's face over the pod pit. All was idle supposition, and Nag Kath would be the first to tell you he was a poor dukks player. His final royal card still face-down was that two, possibly three Maiar would be lobbying for his survival. If Orlo returned here after helping slay good ole' Morgoth, Oromë at least would have heard the tale.

The changeling cleared his throat to say, "I only willingly took powers I needed."

That was the proverbial burp in temple. There is no quiet so deep as when gods are stunned to silence. After a few moments, Manwë asked calmly, "Why did you not take greater strength? You could have easily."

Nag Kath said softly and slowly, "For three reasons, best of sirs; one was that after the war, men would have feared the last dark servant learning fell sorceries. The second was that through much of my life, people were trying to kill me. The only powers I sought were healing and self-defense."

He composed himself for the most important thing he ever had to say, "The last is that accumulating power for its own sake is necessarily evil. It drives away love until all that remains is cruel ambition. The giving of power soothes. I gave mine to heal. Radagast taught me to never accept power I did not need or could not take responsibility for."

A woman to the Elf's left had been silent throughout. She was Yavanna, mistress of living things, Radagast's Vala. Nag Kath hoped by now she would have learned of his fate and their friendship. She asked in a voice that issued from throughout the room, "Young Quendu, what result do you seek?"

"Only to live with my wife in healing and peace, ma'am."

Yavanna nodded to Manwë who spoke with gravity, "Nag Kath, you will wait outside while we consider your future. Herald Eönwë, please take him to the entry and return with his wife Inariel."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The changeling had not considered that Inariel might be in jeopardy, but he had tempted the fates for a great many in his gamble. Why would she be any different? The Valar's will be done and there was nothing for it. Nag Kath was returned to his Inara and the two wizards. He kissed her on the lips very tenderly and bowed to the herald as she was shown into the Circle of Doom. Nag Kath smiled at Orlo but then turned to watch his Lady disappear behind the doors.

Princess Inariel walked to the circle and bowed unafraid. She thought she saw the slightest smile from Estë. Vána, Lady of Youth and Beauty, had asked to speak to the youngest being ever brought before the council. "Do you have powers as well, child?"

She answered confidently, "I have healing ability inherited from both sides of my family, ma'am."

Vána considered that and continued, "Tell us of your husband."

The Princess answered softly, "I loved him in silence when I was a girl. Later, he healed me from a dread illness and I fell in love with him again."

"So this union was of your own free-will?"

Inariel gushed, "Oh yes. Together we have traveled wide with many adventures."

Vána's husband Oromë, who knew more than most here about goings-on in the Fourth Age of Middle-earth, asked, "What are your husband's greatest gifts?"

"There are many, My Lord. If I must choose; patience and optimism. He was born into slavery and endured unspeakable agony in his changing. He was attacked and shunned, driven from the places of Elves and men. Nag Kath has given of himself healing and against the enemy as our friend Orórin taught him, near to death many times.

"My Lords and Ladies, I was born of the highest station in my world. Folk like me thought him cursed. But if you ask him, he would tell you he is the most fortunate creature on the face of Arda."

Manwë said in the gentlest voice imaginable, "Thank you. You many join your husband outside to await our decision. Herald, please return with Orórin"

~o~

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~o~

She bowed and was gone, leaving the Valar to consider their responsibilities. Melkor's demise neatly avoided a wealth of prophesy suggesting a much more dire reckoning. No one would mourn him. There were only two concerns; one was Manwë's need to counterweight the loss of so powerful a force. A much lesser issue was what to do with the curious changeling. He had Maiar-like powers, not all bestowed by reputable sources. Those humors were increasing while the rest of the world's were fading.

Vairë the weaver was most alarmed. "My Lord, this creature cannot continue to gain strength without your blessing. We are only just rid of one troublemaker."

Manwë believed the changeling had come by his powers earnestly. At need he could strip them away. Manwë spoke earlier with the former Istari wizards for their views. Orórin was shown to the circle and the King asked, "Are you still committed to your counsel, old friend?"

Gandalf said in his strong, low voice, "I am, Sire."

"Then let us hear from Lord Irmo and Lady Estë."

~o~

With a nod from Manwë, Irmo spoke in his clear, resonant voice, "My friends, for two months a being of power was our guest, someone capable of relieving my Estë of her burdens for a time. We ask for a long period of apprenticeship to help heal the many hurts My Lady now bears alone."

Ulmo, who came to council only at great need like this, said in his deep baritone, "My Lady Estë, long have you taken the brunt of pain in this world. Are you in accord with this?"

"Oh yes, Lord Ulmo. This was my idea. I have confidence, but may need all of your support to teach what I do not know."

Nessa, swift and most junior of the Valier, sister to Oromë, was the first to understand. She asked, "And what of the other?"

Irmo answered thoughtfully, "Her husband has powers as well, with more experience controlling them. It may be some time before the young Quenda can assume her duties. We need both changelings working together in the healing. Then they can shoulder the burdens at times for Estë to rest, or when there is great need. As my beloved wife said; we hope we can count on your support in preparing them both."

Vána wondered, "How came she by these gifts?

The Master of Desires was prepared for that, "Nag Kath received his power from Curomo (Saruman) and she from him when he made her immortal." He looked at his wife, "We are not sure how either occurred. Through her mother she is the sole surviving female descendant of Melian. Both are the only known transfers of power from the Maiar, converging in her. She was almost lost to us three times and is only now healthy enough to realize her calling."

Estë added, "The lass is also descended from Galadriel who has unexplained gifts even after her ring is but ornamentation. And her father Aragorn was a healer in their fashion."

Nessa had one more question about the male, "And why was the Quendu not called here like his wife?"

Irmo was less sure of this reply, "He is not truly Elfkind. All his life he has thought he was an Elf living like a man. He was really a Maia, living as a man. There is a fair measure of Elf and Maiar in him, but the Maia grows stronger. He begins to suspect that."

~o~

Manwë gazed around the room. In mind-speak he called the vote. The council agreed that the youngsters would be trained to use their gifts in the service of the Lady Estë. The King said in true voice, "Let it be done. Lord and Lady of the Garden, you have my blessing."

The King turned to Lord Oromë, "I call upon you to assist in practical aspects of their tutelage."

To borrow a phrase from the world of men, Oromë the Great Huntsman had 'pulled a few strings' to help Nag Kath succeed with hints of power here and there since the changeling crossed the Belegaer. His hunting forests were just on the other side of the Pelóri Mountains from the rend in the fabric Selvas used for his indiscreet, desperate plea and Melkor's powerful response. He also felt the seed of Pallando when it began growing in the soil of Aman. This was as close as Oromë's assistance would ever come to acknowledgment in the council. If not universally appreciated, it was effective. The two changelings could not balance the loss of the most powerful Ainu Melkor, but their contribution might be enough that Eru Ilúvatar did not need to reorder the way of things. In a mere thousand years or so, the children's training should be complete.

It would be time well spent.

~o~

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~o~