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~ The Faithful ~

During the Second Age and the rise of Numenor, Marya remained long at the door to the Void, keeping Watch at the Door of Night herself where Melkor was cast out. Thus she was not at the King's councils when the idea for Numenor was suggested or decided, against which she had a forboding in her heart. Remembering Ulmo's warning against bringing the Elves to Valinor long ages ago, she worried that by too great a gift, far from their homes in Middle-earth, these Edain might likewise be led astray and fall into a similar path. Through a message borne by her friend Olorin she relayed her counsel to the King and the others among the Aratar. Ulmo was present at this meeting, and supported her disagreement, but to no avail. The rest of the Ruling Nine felt confident that with Melkor cast out, and with the safety of such an island and such gifts of might and skill and wisdom among the second born, might these Children flourish long in blissful peace. Manwe for his part had ear and mind for her concerns. But upon thinking on it alone could respond only that, good or ill, whatever may eventually befall the gifted Land of Star was an important thread to be woven into the Vision and the unfolding of Eru's will.

Not until the end of the reign of King Elros was Marya persuaded to at last take leave of the Watch over the Gates and the Outer Walls and return to her abode in the Light Pass. During the golden years of the Kings of Men she took respite, again painting the sky with the clouds and rainbows for the delight of the Numenoreans. At times she would watch over or guide their ships as they sailed to and fro, or walk about the island unseen, and those nearby would wonder at the sudden strong breezes stirring the island's great trees.

Seeing the wanderlust and insatiable curiosity of the islanders drive them to sail farther and farther about Arda, and to dare closer and closer to Aman, the Princess again grew concerned. Marya gave the king her counsel that if the Elves be permitted to visit Numenor, then the Men should be granted leave to visit the Lonely Isle at least. The sea elves who dwelt there had little interest in the mainland of the Undying Realm, and allowing the Mortals to share such trade routes evenly with the Teleri might serve to keep the Numenoreans happy. Otherwise, she warned, a shadow of envy and resentment over such unbalanced rules might eventually dim their hearts. King Manwe again found her counsel not without merit, but still refused, fearing that to allow them so close would only kindle further the flame of curiosity and desire to see Aman itself. This, he insisted, would be far more dangerous to their lives and spirits than it was for the Noldoli long ago.

"I fear that withering in the flame of their own fears and desires may be their doom regardless, with or without the sight of Aman," she replied, then spoke on the matter no more.

At the imprisonment of Sauron by the Numenoreans the Valar now grew worried that the Princess' fears over the island might prove prescient. For by the reckoning of their lives it had not been long since the previous Enemy wrought discontent and strife among the Children of Eru. Those Firstborn who came to Valinor also eventually cursed as deceitful the gifts of fair lands and powerful skills with which they had before lived in content by the grace of the Valar. The age wore on and the evil grew, and they all grieved, but as before with the Elf exiles in Middle-earth of the First Age, Manwe refused leave of any among the Valar to intervene directly. So Marya watched and waited from her abode high up in the Light Pass, as Ulmo and Aule and the King would issue their warnings to the Numenoreans with their elements. At times she would set out herself, going forth as a great ominous cloud with storms of thunder and lightning in tow.

But then the great armada of Ar-Pharazon came up out of the east. Manwe had long marked their sailing, and commanded all further warnings to cease.

From up high at Ilmarin where she had recently arrived to visit, standing not far from the King as she so often did, Marya looked down upon the fleet gravely as it approached Eressea. It was a fair clear morning, and the calm sea itself had the appearance of having caught suddenly with dark fire. She turned to the king in distress.

"O King, my brother, they have made it through the mists," she said to him. "What should we do?"

The King of course had observed the same, wroth and grieved and wondering that they had not foundered in the mists, and was feeling much the same. What should they do? Prepare for battle? The Undying Lands had been tarnished enough with bloodshed, must they resign to stain it further by felling so many of the Second-born, here in a place meant to be preserved in purity as the last haven against the Shadow? How much further damage must they inflict on the world they themselves constructed? He closed his eyes in thought.

After a brief moment he opened his eyes and looked over to her. He could not say what was to happen, for he did not know exactly, but in his heart he understood enough that he bade her hurry to Elenna and have a care for the safety of the Faithful waiting in their ships. At this point he also bade his herald to go down to the Pass, with orders to evacuate Tirion City.

So Marya went forth from the King's mansions as a great cloud upon his winds, and came down to them upon the sea unclad. Taking command of the winds she pushed them from the reach of the chasm into which the great island would be consumed. Bewildered were the passengers at the sudden onset of fog so thick they could see or hear naught but each other, and even more so at the direct westerly wind blowing so strong that their anchors were dragged along behind at a fair clip. They found that they could not gain control of the rudders, and as their ships sailed along due east a heavy rain began to whip at their backs as it fell upon the wind. Elendil, having some foreboding of what was happening, though he could not have explained it, ordered the anchors pulled.

Marya knew not what was about to befall, but felt she must keep pushing them eastward, and feared she was not sending them on fast enough. But she feared also to loose the winds much stronger, lest worse than their masts and sails break apart and founder. She had now succeeded in pushing them from reach of the chasm, but from Iluvatar's wrath came the great towering waves out of the abyss and the ships were wrested from her control. Ulmo then rushed up to assist, and together they bore the survivors safely to Middle-earth, amidst its own tumult as it was further changed and reshaped.

She returned home to Valinor to discover that her abode had been destroyed in the cascading avalanche of crumbling hillsides upon the valleys below the city of Tirion. Her mighty sword, she discovered, was buried with the great army of Numenorean forces there, and she was not permitted to search for it. There until the time comes it will lay, still glowing faintly in memory of the victory over Angband, entombed in waiting for the Last Battle when it can be set against its old foe once more.

Marya then removed permanently to the mansions of the king, save when taking leave to resume her travels about Aman.