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Chapter 2: Discussions among the Valar

"So, that is what's happening right now."

Námo looked at Manwë, whose expression ranged somewhere between horrified, angry, sad, and disbelieving. Námo said nothing, waiting for his older brother in the thought of Ilúvatar to speak. After a prolonged silence, Manwë did.

"This is not good."

Námo raised an eyebrow, otherwise keeping his countenance neutral. He said nothing, however, waiting for the Elder King to voice his thoughts on the matter.

"I have trouble believing one of us would say something like that. The Maiar are anything but weak."

Námo nodded.

"Yes, but the point is, Nessa did say something to that effect. Whether it was meant the way it was taken, remains to be seen. But, the damage is already done. Who knows how many among the Maiar have heard similar things, and even now think themselves worthless? We potentially have a catastrophe on our hands, Manwë. We know what happened last time one of the Maiar felt they weren't wanted or loved. They need our love and support and will seek it out wherever it is given if it does not come from the source Atar designed it to come from."

The eldest nodded, messaging his forehead to help him think.

"Believe me Námo, I know. This is a very volatile situation. One we need to address now."

To Námo, nothing happened. However, moments later, Nessa appeared in front of them, a questioning look on her face.

"What is it, Manwë?"

The Elder King looked her dead in the eye.

"I want to know why you said the Maiar are not worth as much as we are because they're not as strong."

Námo, watching his younger sister in the thought of Ilúvatar carefully, noted the panic and momentary guilt that crossed her fair features for a second. Then, she schooled her expression to neutral, regarding Manwë with outward calm.

"I never said anything of the sort, my lord. The Maiar have a lot of worth. Where did you hear that?"

Manwë glanced at Námo. The Doomsman kept his expression and countenance totally unreadable, content to let Manwë deal with this. At least for now. However, that didn't mean he wasn't analysing everything Nessa said or did.

"I heard from a reliable source someone overheard you saying something along the lines that because the Maiar are weaker than us Valar, we must make allowances for that." Manwë regarded her gravely. "Can you truthfully deny you ever said anything of the sort?"

The face of Nessa's fana went bright red at Manwë's question, and she swallowed nervously.

"It's not what you think, my lord."

Manwë's tone was glacial.

"Enlighten me then, my daughter."

Nessa glanced at Námo, who remained impassive and unreadable, before focusing her attention on Manwë.

"I do remember saying something to that effect, but I didn't mean they are worthless. Far from it. As whoever overheard me would have realised had they listened to the whole conversation. I was saying to Vána not to get upset that some of her Maiar needed to spend some time in Lórien after the War. She couldn't understand why they were rejecting her, refusing to return immediately to her service when they came back. She couldn't understand they needed time to recover before returning to their normal lives." Nessa calmly looked at Námo. "Who overheard me, might I ask?"

Námo's expression was inscrutable.

"You may, but won't be getting an answer. Just know your words were taken the wrong way, and sent several Maiar spiralling into an abyss of doubting themselves and their worth."

Nessa's eyes filled with worry.

"That doesn't sound good. That was not my intention at all. I just wanted to help my sister-in-law understand why her Maiar were not rejecting her by wanting to spend some time in Lórien. Especially those who participated in the War. She has a number of warrior Maiar among her retinue; both those who have taken pledge to just her, and those whom serve my brother or them both. Is – is the damage too great to fix?"

Manwë's expression was still impassive, but his voice had lost its glacial quality.

"That, remains to be seen. I think it's time we all met to discuss this issue; I have my doubts this is an isolated incident. Many among the Maiar are very fragile and insecure after the War, Eönwë among them." Manwë smiled grimly at Nessa's surprised look. "Yes, my dear. Even the Captain of the Hosts of the West was not unaffected by what happened on Middle Earth. Truth be told, none of us are. Though we Valar seem to be handling it better than the Maiar."

Understanding dawned in Nessa's eyes.

"Oh no."

Manwë nodded.

"Indeed. I want us all to meet in the main throne room in Almaren just before sunset." Manwë looked at Námo as he spoke. "Does that satisfy you?"

Námo nodded.

"Yes. For now." Catching his eyes, the Doomsman communicated with their leader via ósanwe.

*While I am inclined to think what Nessa said was taken the wrong way, these ideas had to have come from somewhere else to begin with. The Maiar are strong. It would take more than one incident to damage their self-worth image as much as it has.*

Manwë dismissed Nessa, even as he answered his younger brother in the thought of Ilúvatar.

*I understand your worry. I'm sure we will get to the root of the problem in this council.*

Námo's expression did not change.

*We'd better. That's two who have ended up with me because they felt others did not want, nor love, them.*

Manwë said nothing in reply. However, for a long time after Námo went back to Mandos, the Elder King sat in pensive silence.

There was dead silence as Námo told the gathered Valar what he'd recently found out. When he said how Urunírë felt he and his brethren were often seen as third-class citizens by the Valar, Aulë looked heartbroken.

"That's not true. First Mairon doubts his worth, and now Urunírë does! What am I doing wrong?"

Námo kept his thoughts to himself about what the Worldsmith was doing wrong. Now was not the time, nor the place, to point out all the problems in what he did. Or didn't do, as it were. The awkward silence following Aulë's outburst was broken by Varda.

"I do not like this. The Maiar harbouring these thoughts can only lead to trouble."

Manwë nodded, even as he looked at Námo with an unreadable expression.

"Is this what you were getting at when you told me not to confront Eönwë about his suspicions some time back?"

Námo was unrepentant.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Námo looked at him with equanimity.

"I do not know precisely the reason; I simply said those things because Atar willed it so. You know that to be true."

Manwë's expression remained impassive.

"Yes. But I still wonder."

Námo's voice gave away nothing of how he was feeling.

"So do I. I wonder about a lot of things I see, yet seldom do I get an answer."

Irmo broke the awkward silence.

"So, what are we going to do about this? It goes without saying something must be done." The Lord of Lórien looked worried. "I'm not entirely sure how we can fix this, however. Námo. Do you have any ideas, apart from making a proclamation to all the Maiar? Which is a bad idea in itself, I might add, but we won't go there right now."

Nessa spoke up, when it became obvious Námo was not going to verbally respond to his brother.

"The way I see it, we need to reassure the Maiar they are loved and valued. I don't think a mere apology will suffice. We need to show it by our actions. Letting the Maiar all know we are sorry, and didn't intend things the way they were taken, would help. But, ultimately, it's our actions towards them that will have the largest impact."

Manwë nodded.

"I agree. The thing is, how can we go about doing that? Does anyone have any other suggestions?"

Vairë spoke up.

"I have one."

All eyes were on the Valië, who regarded them with a knowing smile.

"What if we hold a feast for the Maiar in which we all serve them? Námo and I have been doing it almost annually with our Maiar for over five hundred years now. Doing something like that for all of them will help with starting to show them they are special and valued."

Tulkas looked confused.

"How will that work? There are too many Maiar for them all to come to one event. Besides, there are several jobs that require Maiar to be in attendance at all times. How will we factor them in?"

All this time, Námo said and did nothing. His countenance remained neutral, as he let his fellow Valar discuss these things. He knew doing something along these lines may help dispel the notion the Maiar had little worth. However, it would take a lot more to stamp these thoughts out completely than just a simple meal. Thanks to Lómindil's investigations (which Námo had said nothing about. There were some things even Manwë didn't have the right to know) the Lord of Mandos knew these thoughts, and others like them, had deep roots.

Roots that, intentionally or not, the Valar had established by their own actions. Having both Mairon and Urunírë in his care had given Námo a unique perspective on these circumstances, though even he wasn't sure what had started the problems. Námo suspected the seeds may have been sown as far back as when the Elder first came to Aman. Though he knew the problems had really began after Melkor had been released from Mandos. Urunírë had said to him many among the Maiar had been worried about that, but hadn't been brave (or stupid. Melkor had been set free on Manwë's orders. Out of all the Valar, he was the one they would not question) enough to speak up against it. And the events that occurred during the Darkening had left many reeling.

By the time the world had righted itself, much irreparable damage had already been done.

"Námo? Námo! Hello, anyone home?"

The Doomsman pulled himself out of his thoughts to regard Irmo.

"What?"

His brother just shook his head in exasperation, not letting Námo's dour answer put him off in the slightest.

"Did you hear a word of what we just said?"

Námo gave him a look that clearly stated he thought that question ludicrous.

"Yes. You all want to have a feast in which we serve the Maiar. You have decided we will take turns looking after those whom can't leave their posts, so every single one of them will receive the same treatment. You can't decide when to do this, but agree it must be done soon. At the feast, you will make a formal apology to all of them, and explain the misunderstandings. Have I missed anything?"

Irmo shook his head.

"No. You were listening, after all. I could've sworn you were on the outer edges of the solar system, with the way you haven't moved since we started talking. Arien went to her rest hours ago."

Námo looked around at the other Valar, before focusing back on his brother.

"To be precise, it has been two hours and almost sixteen minutes since Anar set. If you really want to know."

Vairë laughed softly. Irmo looked chagrined, accepting the mild rebuke. No one said anything for a moment. It was Oromë who broke the silence. The Vala of the Hunt suddenly cocked his head to the side, frowning.

"If you'd excuse me, Manwë, I am afraid I am urgently needed elsewhere for a moment. One of my Maiar is very distressed over something. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Manwë nodded in permission, and Oromë disappeared. Looking around at the remaining twelve Valar, the Elder King spoke thoughtfully.

"That's another thing we need to change. Apparently, one thing that has contributed to these feelings, is the fact the Maiar do not always have access to us when they want it. For some reason or another, they've been made to wait on our pleasure, which at times is understandable. However, the elves being admitted to see us before our own Maiar is not. Providing there's not a crisis happening that we have to deal with, there is no reason any of our Maiar should not be free to come to us about anything, whenever they desire."

More than one of the Valar looked guilty (Aulë especially, though his expression was still somewhat heartbroken), but all nodded humbly in agreement at Manwë's words. The Eldest in the thoughts of Ilúvatar sighed wearily, before sharing a look with his beloved that no one else could interpret. Receiving a nod from her in answer to whatever he'd said, Manwë turned back to the Valar.

"Does anyone have any comments, observations, or ideas they wish to add before we end this meeting?"

There was silence for a long moment. Then Námo spoke.

"This idea will hopefully go some ways towards reconciling us with the Maiar, but there is one more thing I would like to address before we end this council."

Námo's gaze swept over them all, before alighting on Manwë. More than one Valar had to fight not to squirm under the promise of doom that gaze carried, even as Námo addressed their King.

"I feel we need to understand what started these thoughts and feelings in the first place, to ensure we never let it happen again. I fear that, even inadvertently, more of you have contributed to this than you realise. To that end…" Námo looked around at them all again, before focussing on their King. "Manwë. Even you may have inadvertently contributed to this situation we have found ourselves in."

Manwë swallowed, returning Námo's impassive gaze with a glacial one of his own.

"Do tell me how?"

Námo's aura did not shift.

"At Mairon's trial, you said the Maiar are weaker than us. You then went on to say Mairon would not survive hours of interrogation, but we could. All those here are witness to you saying that, if they care to remember."

Several of the gathered Valar nodded slowly, recalling to mind those painful memories. The memory of subjecting such a broken and abused soul to what they had (though they'd had no idea what he'd gone through at the time) still haunted more than one Valar.

Námo waited until Manwë also nodded, his expression inscrutable, before he continued.

"While I doubt you meant it in any demeaning way; you were simply stating a fact, if you'd said that out loud, it could have been taken another way. Very easily. While only us Valar heard you, I suspect there may have been other incidents when things did get out."

Manwë looked simultaneously guilty and horrified at that realisation, while most of the other Valar looked stunned. Eventually, the Elder King opened his mouth to speak. However, what Manwë was going to say in response, the other Valar never found out. At that precise moment Oromë appeared, looking grim. He was accompanied by one of his Maiar, whom was looking at the ground and refusing to make eye contact. Manwë gave her a surprised look, before turning to the Hunter.

However, before he could say anything, Oromë was addressing Námo. His facial muscles were tight, though his tone was carefully controlled and neutral.

"Mairon is in danger."

Námo's eyes and countenance hardened the moment those words left Oromë's mouth. Regarding not the Vala, but the Maia, with a gaze that prophesied Doom Was Coming, the Vala addressed her with a glacial tone.

"What do you mean, Mairon is in danger?"

The female Maia paled under the gaze of the Doomsman of Arda; would probably have fainted had Oromë not placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Námo asked you a question, Roimewen. It would be in your best interest to answer him truthfully."

The Maia swallowed roughly, before putting on a brave face.

"My brother, Nehtartúra, has lost his mind…"

BOOM! End of Chapter 2

And so it begins...

The Grand Plot of Part 2.

*Evil Grin*