Chapter 2 – The Years of the Lamps

So it was that Effie Potter left the Timeless Halls and descended into Arda. Numerous were those of the Ainur who chose that path, but the greatest among them were known as the Valar, those whose will and design shaped the world. To each was granted a province of authority: to Manwë, their leader, the air, to Varda, the stars, to Ulmo, the seas, to Aulë, the earth, to Yavanna, all things that grew. Thirteen there were, aside from Melkor, who walked separately to the others, keeping his own counsel and refusing to participate in the Valar's design.

Each Vala was accompanied by attendants and followers numbering seven times seven. These beings were the Maiar, spirits of the same kind as the Valar but more limited in power and wisdom. Many and varied were their natures and purposes, from great lords and ladies whose noble bearings reflected that of the Valar themselves, to lesser beings who would all but lose themselves in the world, becoming one with their creations, spirits of forest and river and mountain.

For untold years the Ainur worked to shape the world. For the day was coming, at an hour unknown, when the children of the song would emerge into the world, and it was the task of the Valar to make the land ready for the waking of the peoples of Arda. So they raised up hills and valleys, filled the great basins of the world with waters, and populated the sky with stars.

Throughout those long years, Effie stood apart. Whilst Varda had persuaded her to descend to Arda, she was not bound to her service in the manner of an attendant. By all accounts, she was a free agent, aimless and without purpose. All the elements of nature were fully accounted for by the others of the Ainur, with no piece of it to call her own.

With no task assigned to her, Effie took to visiting with the others of the Ainur, joining with their labours as the mood took her. Most often she found herself walking with the Maiar of Varda, whom she respected greatly, and those of Estë, whose province of healing and rest Effie needed most. It was among the Maiar of Estë that she first encountered Melian, a beauty whose pure voice yet recalled the Great Song, and whose company Effie increasingly favoured. From Melian she learnt many songs, and in exchange Effie taught her the secrets of enchantment.

It did not take long for strife to enter the world. From the start of their endeavours, the Valar found themselves opposed by Melkor and his followers, who sought to render a different design. Where the Valar imagined a symmetrical world containing only beauty and peace, Melkor's vision for Arda was one of asymmetry and extremes. From his mind were the perilous places of the world borne, the deserts, the volcanoes, and the harsh lands of ice.

Slowly but surely, the conflict between the Valar and Melkor escalated. What had started as competing visions for the creation of Arda became a bitter war in which each sought to cast down the works of the other, and the lands were heaved up, and the seas sown with salt, and fire and ice ruled the world. Though he was outnumbered, Melkor was the mightiest of the Ainur, and for many years Arda was marred by the war between him and the Valar.

The tide shifted only when Tulkas, a spirit unrivalled in physical strength, descended from the Timeless Halls and joined the Valar. Melkor fled before him, hiding himself from the Valar and, for a time, there was peace.

Yet the marring of Arda was not easily undone, nor was it possible to completely reverse Melkor's works. The best the Valar could manage was to calm the world's turmoil, rendering it safe once more. Thus becalmed, they fashioned two great lamps to bring the first true light to the world, and thence began the spring of Arda, when the forests and fields of the world sprang to life, and the animals awoke, and the true work of the Ainur resumed.

Effie continued her habit of visiting with others of the Ainur. In the absence of any greater calling, she made it her task to create small wonders of magic and enchantment wherever she went, little embellishments on the works performed by her fellows.

In the high peaks of the south, she worked with Arien to give life to birds of fire, alike to the phoenixes Effie remembered from her past life. In the forests of the north, with Melian she planted secret glades and gardens, and hid within them fountains whose waters would grant healing, wisdom, and new life. In the hills of the east she met with Ilmarë, the handmaiden of Varda, and there they sang up a lake whose crystal waters distilled the light of the stars. And to the west, where the land met the great ocean, she crafted the ruins of a half-sunken city, one whose crumbling towers and great harbour walls would plant the seeds of city-craft in the minds of the children of the song. This she built with Mairon, a powerful and clever smith with a fair face, strong hands, and a sharp wit.

She quarrelled with Mairon often. It was Effie's nature to scatter her gifts like seeds on the wind, planting them here and there as the whim took her, which chaos tested Mairon greatly, for above all else, he valued orderliness. While Mairon worked to conceal within his walls and gates the secrets of stonecraft and metalwork, Effie busied herself with fancies and trifles. She dug a well which would never run dry. She planted a secret, walled garden with trees which would bear the sweetest, most succulent apples. And she raised a tall tower whose windows would always show the world as if it were night. Her whimsical nature vexed Mairon so much that he gave to her a new name: the Giver of Trinkets.

"I do not understand what purpose thine creations serve," he said at last, as they were drawing near the end of their labours. "When the Children awake, they shall stumble across this place and learn. For them I have secreted away the knowledge by which they shall raise their own cities, greater and grander than this ruin. Yet what shall they learn when they see your tower of sorcery?"

"They shall learn that there is mystery in the world," Effie answered. "They shall see, and they shall wonder, and they shall dream, and of those dreams they will create." She clasped her hand to his cheek. "It is true what they say, Mairon of Aulë. Truly you are a great craftsman, second only to the Smith himself. Yet there is more to craft than the mastery of technique. Only by dreams shall the Children create true beauty. You would know this, if you were to walk the gardens of Irmo more often."

Eventually, after the passage of thousands of years, the work of the Ainur was nigh complete. At long last, the world was ready for the arrival of the Children. Their task accomplished, Manwë ordered a great celebration on Almaren, the island at the centre of the world which the Valar had made their home. A feast was held, and there Tulkas married Nessa, and all the Ainur rejoiced.

The wedding of two of the Valar was a wonder to beyond. The forests and fields bloomed for their union, and the stars shone brighter, and the seas calmed, and all the birds and beasts of the world came to pay homage.

"What a fine match," Melian said as she and Effie watched the ceremony, held before Manwë and Varda at the altar to the One. "What serendipity that Tulkas should change his mind and join us, lest Nessa have been left alone for all time."

"Serendipity indeed," Effie said. "Late-Comer, they still call me, yet by my reckoning it was Tulkus who joined us last. Perhaps I should give him my name, and find myself another."

Melian laughed, song in her voice. "Nay, do not give up that which suits you so well. For without your name, the only one left to you would be that by which Mairon knows you, and that is less flattering."

"Speak not to me of Mairon on this happy day," Effie said. "Would that one of our number would take him for husband and smooth down his rough edges. He is sorely in need of it."

"Oh?" Melian said. "Are you volunteering for the role?"

Effie gave her a long look. "You know that I am not."

Melian's smile was sad. "No. He is not your intended."

"I should hope no one is my intended. For the intention should be mine, and mine alone. Even we of the Ainur are free to follow our own paths, as Melkor's rebellion shows. It is for us to choose with whom we might pair ourselves—or not, as the case may be."

Melian contemplated her words. "Perhaps. There is truth in what you say. But I sense that it is not the whole truth, for the serendipity by which Tulkas descended was no mere chance. Even those who are free may be accounted for in the mind of the One."

"How wise you have become, dear friend," Effie said. "But then, what else should one expect from she who dwells most often with Estë?"

When dusk set in and the ceremony drew to a close, and Manwë declared the two wed, it was Melian who sang to them, her nightingale-voice floating across the winds to every corner of the world.

"What a fine wedding gift," Effie said, when Melian was finished with her song. "Now we must all make them gifts of our own, lest your performance put us to shame."

And so Effie set to making a wedding gift for Nessa, whose greatest love was dancing. The gift grew in the making, such that it took many years to complete, and Melian's curiosity grew year on year.

"You shall see it when it is finished," Effie insisted. "And not a day before."

For little did Melian know that she was serving as inspiration for the gift, and Effie was abashed at the thought of her sighting it while it remained unfinished. But years fall short by the counting of the Ainur, and before long the gift was ready to be given.

"It is done," Effie said one day, stealing herself into the gardens where Melian dwelt. She brought with her a parcel wrapped with cloth. "Look within and tell me your judgement."

Carefully, Melian unwrapped the cloth to find a pair of silk dancing shoes.

"How beautiful!" she cried upon seeing them. "Oh, Nessa shall be well pleased to dance in these, and Tulkus shall take endless joy in watching her."

Effie smiled. "If they are beautiful, it is thanks to their muse," she said quietly, looking into Melian's eyes. "For the black silk is wrought of the hair of Melian, and the red of the ribbon of her lips, and their soles remember well her voice, so light and pure that Nessa shall dance on the waters of Ulmo but not sink."

Thus did Effie speak that which had gone unspoken between them for centuries, and Melian looked upon her friend with sadness.

"My dear Euphemia," Melian said, uttering her secret name, one which few among the Ainur knew. "You honour me. For so long as the world endures, this creation shall stand as proof of your affections. Yet you know, I think, that your heart is not mine to take and safeguard, for Námo has whispered to me my Doom, and it lies not among the Ainur."

So it was that Effie and Melian were parted. For though there remained great affection between them, a powerful truth had been uttered which could not be unspoken. As for Effie's gift, Melian's prediction proved accurate, and pleased indeed was Nessa, who took to dancing on the lakes and seas of Arda to the delight of all.

Those years of joy, when the work of the Ainur seemed complete, were all too short. The Valar grew complacent, and lessened their watch, until one day without warning, Melkor returned to Arda in might. With him were Maiar great in number, corrupted to his cause, and among them was the great smith Mairon, who was thereafter known as Sauron.

They came to Almaren in fiery wrath, as a storm of vengeance, and while the Valar still rested, there they cast down the two lamps. The earth shook and the skies roiled and the world was thrown into darkness once more, with only the stars to light the sky. The collapse of the great pillars tore asunder the land, and all the works of the Ainur were in ruin. Much beauty was lost that day, never to be regained, and Effie knew not the fate of many of her creations, whether they were utterly destroyed, or corrupted, or else misplaced amid the turmoil of the land as mountains and seas changed beyond recognition.

Taken by surprise, and dismayed at the utter destruction which Melkor had wrought, the Valar and their attendants retreated. To the west they departed, to the far continent known thereafter as Valinor, and there they raised along its coast a mighty mountain range to shield them from the works of Melkor. And the great continent they left behind, which was called Middle-Earth, they abandoned entirely to Melkor, and ever after would Middle-Earth bear the memory of his dominion.

In the absence of the light of the lamps, Yavanna put the living things of the world to sleep, lest they wither without the light which gave them life. Only in Valinor would light other than that of the stars be seen, for there, while still suffering the memory of defeat, the Valar performed their greatest work. On the hill of Ezellohar, Yavanna sang, and Nienna wept, and from their mingled power were born the Two Trees, silver Telperion and golden Laurelin, and each shined with a sacred light which would illuminate all Valinor. But in Middle-Earth, all remained dark, for the mountains raised by the Valar saw to it that the light of the trees did not escape that hallowed land.

In Valinor, the Ainur began their work anew. Near to the Trees did they settle, founding the city of Valmar, where the Valar and Maiar would meet and mingle. Gold were its gates, and of white marble were its towers, and the domes of its halls reflected the light of the Trees. At its centre was the Ring of Doom, where the thrones of the Valar sat, fifteen in total, and Effie wondered at the number, for it seemed strange that the Valar would yet reserve a throne for Melkor.

Beyond Valmar, each of the Valar took to themselves a part of the land, and there they made their mansions and halls, in accordance with their natures.

Atop the great mountain Taniquetil, Manwë and Varda made their home, and from those great heights could they see beyond the shield-wall of mountains and observe Melkor's doings in Middle-Earth. To the west, Námo delved Mandos beneath the ground, those endless halls where the spirits of the dead would come to reside, once the Children awoke. And near to the trees, Irmo planted his gardens of Lórien, whose many paths, streams and hedges would wander here and there as a labyrinth, winding near the roots of great Telperion, and at their centre was the lake of Lorellin, which was draped with willows. In Lórien many of the Ainur found rest and comfort, becalmed by the drowsy scents of cedar and pine in the dusk, for already they were weary from Melkor's evil.

For a thousand years the Ainur worked to make Valinor all that Arda should have been, a land of bliss and beauty, and their sorrows began to heal. For across the Sundering Seas, Melkor slumbered in his mountain fortress of Utumno, and troubled the Valar no more.

Yet in this time, Effie could find no rest. She longed to make her home in Lórien, and there soothe her weariness, but in Lórien Melian dwelt, singing beneath the trees and teaching the nightingales their song. She could not yet bring herself to return to Melian, yet neither did she wish to reside in Valmar, a city of bells and feasts and choirs. And so she returned to the Lady Varda, atop high and lonely Taniquetil, and there she dwelt with her friend Ilmarë, and looked out upon Middle-Earth, and awaited the awakening of the Firstborn children of the Song.