Redimo Demerio
Disclaimer-Everything belongs to Tolkien and estate, nothing belongs to me except for the odd original character.
Chapter 3- The Council of the Valar
Her hand was stretched towards the firelight, oddly still, while the conflicting emotions that had defeated her long ago played on her face, cruelly.
As though they were her masters.
But…just because she allowed herself to feel didn't mean that she was a slave to them…was she?
Ingwe sat at the opposite her, grave, as though carved beautifully, and silent as the deepest reaches of twilight.
His eyes were unusually grave, and they glittered oddly in the light of the fire.
They were eating, unusually late at night for any meal, but, then again, it had been an unusual day.
"I hope my people were not sadly lacking in hospitality?" he asked her with a glimmer of amusement while sipping his sherry.
Nerdanel twirled her silver fork meditatively.
"Far from it." She answered quietly.
"I must thank you." She said suddenly and impulsively. "for taking me in on so short notice."
"It was nothing." Ingwe insisted, drawing closer to the fire.
The night was cold, and a blizzard raged contemptuously outside, as though mocking her and proving the might of the Valar once more.
Was that not done once already, and was she not uncowed?
Strangely persistent they had been, in intimidating her with their might, as though proving to her how foolish she had been to ever doubt them.
She had not been moved.
Far too much experience of heart-wrenching loss, in body and spirit had taught her to bow to no one.
The incompetence of the Valar was shown clearly in the Great Wars, and she was sure that nothing had changed.
Nor would it.
The fire recoiled from her—instinctively shying away from one so tainted, she thought absurdly.
It danced and danced, convulsing and crackling, licking and spitting, sometimes the heat was burdensomely heavy and sometimes oppressively light.
They were seated in Ingwe's own quarters.
Magnificently proportioned, with high, flaming torches, and lovingly sewn tapestries adorned the wooden walls proudly, murmuring and shifting with the turn of the breeze.
The windows were thrown open to the mercies of the unforgiving heavens, the snow instinctively stayed away from the palace of Ingwe and its annexe, perhaps by the command of the masters of these Vanyar.
But, she though cynically are the Valar not kind to their willing thralls?
It was wrong to assume that the Vanyar were thralls. When you saw these free people, grand and somehow childishly sheltered, with cascading hair and god-like appearance, that they were thralls was the last thought that occurred to your mind.
But, Nerdanel had taught herself to look past the smoke, past the caprice, past the rich façade of gaiety and laughter.
They were discontent, these fair people, though they would not admit it.
But, perhaps, this was the wrong time to embroil Ingwe's people in affairs they did not understand.
Such children they were, joyous, magnificently fair and startlingly powerful, quick in gaiety, terrible in wrath.
But for all that, they were still children.
And, Besides, she respected Inwe, and saw in him an equal—a peer, if you will. For he did not understand, nor did he pretend to, for he could not comprehend her.
But he treated her like everyone else, like she was worthy of his interest.
And, perhaps, though she did not consider it, Ingwe was also glad she did not try to stir up bloody rebellion.
That would be tragic indeed, would it not?
There were few hours left for the dreaded Council, and she had employed Indis' assistance to help her dress.
It was remarkable, she thought, how one could get along so well with someone who had held you in disgust and pity now that the walls between them had been summarily torn down.
Though she saw no reason to make herself special for a sordid meeting with the Valar, she knew that it would be utter disrespect to show up to their meeting, looking like a horrible dowd. Vain was not something Nerdanel usually was, but today she had been allowed the luxury of painting herself up, and furnishing herself with fripperies that satisfied even Indis.
Her hair was tied in a manner that was, Indis had informed her, the latest fashion with her people, and it amounted her no small sense of satisfaction when she turned the heads of the snooty Vanyarin lords who had looked upon her as a shark may look upon an unworthy minnow, instead looked at her as a wolf might look at its unwary prey.
And the compliments she had received from some people would have made her ears turn red had she been younger.
Reluctantly, her interest had begun to build and her thoughts concerning the Council had been…varied to say the least. Vague impressions of utter domination and unquestioned power with a blue blurred shape whizzed past her head as quickly as it came, and she had no more far fetched theories since.
Merely five wretched hours had passed since dinner and she had eaten precious little during that time, far too engaged in her thoughts.
Ingwe had noticed this and had kindly supplied her with nourishment in his own quarters.
"Will you take me to where the Council will take place?" Nerdanel asked a trifle nervously. She did not care if what she said was forward, for, Eru knew, he was too old for it to really matter, but the prospect of meeting the Valar themselves had disquieted even her.
Ingwe calmly sipped his sherry, which he had been nursing for some time.
" Certainly, Lady Nertanie, if you do not feel up to going yourself." His tone was slightly mocking, as though daring her to contradict his assumption of her weakness and dare to defy the High King.
Out loud she said " I feel up to it, certainly my lord King. But certainly the presence of the High King would boost my morale." Having said this, she leaned back on her chair, satisfied that her words would have no more dangerous implications.
He too leaned back, and surveyed her seriously.
After a few minutes that tried her patience sorely, Ingwe finally laid down his half empty glass and stared at her measuringly.
" It is time." He said offering her his arm.
Accepting it, she smoothed her skirts and, drawing breath, trod steps with him.
Later on, she wasn't quite sure what happened that night.
Usually, you would expect nights of such importance to be forever etched in her mind, but this wasn't the case.
Hours, days, later she flew into her quarters where Indis was waiting anxiously for her.
"Curufinwe!" she sobbed angrily into her sheets.
"Curufinwe?" Indis asked wonderingly.
"Curufinwe." Nerdanel snapped angrily. "He will be here again, to torment my life. But it will not be so! I will master him, now! He will be as a lamb with his shepherd!"
Indis gasped. Her body trembled violently. It was perhaps tactless of Nerdanel to break the news to her abruptly, but Nerdanel was, as she rarely was if she thought of anyone, being selfish.
Indis was conscious of searing hate rushing through her like barely awakened volcano.
Choking on a sob, she rushed out of the room.
'Indis!" Nerdanel called helplessly.
Would she be denied happiness still, as it dangled elusively in front of her, Curufinwe delaying her joy?
No, she told herself angrily, passionately.
Yes, said her wisdom quietly, unheard.
Hey again. I know this chapter is very very very sloppily handled, but I was in a hurry and I wanted to get things moving.
About the Council of the Valar, I'll probably be posting it as a separate story. Look for it tomorrow or in two days. I'm not fond of writing long chapters, you can see
Don't worry, I'm aware that the Council was probably going to be the most anticipated part of this fic but I just didn't have time to write it all up.
And I'm also aware that the Council is going to be one of the most important parts of this fic, but hey!
I'll probably be editing this chap too, sometime soon.
Nessa Ar-Feiniel- I'd thought that out before I started writing this, actually. Finwe (in my fandom) is still living in Mandos because he wanted to stay with Miriel Serinde, his true love. Selfish, I agree but you can hardly expect him to adopt a hroa again after what happened to him by Morgoth and mix together the bonus of being with your wife whom you had mourned the death for so many years...well, it wasn't much of a choice I don't think.