Chapter 7: Finding Mairon

Námo observed his surroundings.

The landscape was strange, all swirling muted grey mist and undefined shapes. He was on the very edge of Mairon's mind, and there was no sign of its usual occupant. That was not surprising, given the state of his fana. What was surprising was the fact the Vala had been able to enter Mairon's mind so easily. Though his own mental shields were slowly improving, the nature of the shields built into the necklace meant the Maia had to consciously decide to let others in. None could force their way through those shields. Not even a Vala. Aulë had made sure of that. Given the present situation, Námo would have expected those shields to be up, as Mairon fought to protect his mind.

The fact they weren't could mean any number of things. While it made his task of finding the Maia, and bringing his consciousness back to his fana, that much easier, Námo still felt a finger of worry. However, Irmo's voice in his own head moments later helped to sooth that fear.

*It's okay, brother. Mairon has consciously lowered his shields; he is aware of what he's done. His consciousness might be elsewhere, but he did that before he retreated deep into his head. He – he wants you to go after him.*

Námo looked around him with wide eyes, even though Irmo wasn't there.

*How can you know that?*

Irmo's voice was sure.

*Because he's doing what I taught him to do if he ever needed help from us, but was unable to ask verbally. Find him, brother. Only you can find and bring him back. Right now, your bond is possibly all that's keeping him from completely retreating.*

*Are you sure? I don't want to enter his mind without explicit permission. I promised him I never would. To do that, would make me no better than Him...*

Irmo's mental voice was full of pain, but decisive.

* While the fact his mental shields aren't up tells me he wants someone to follow him, there's no way to obtain his specific consent. I don't like it either, but there is no other way to save Mairon.*

Námo knew his brother's words to be true, little though he liked it. Resolutely starting out through the mist, the Vala heading towards the centre of Mairon's mind. He was prepared to retreat if his presence was rejected, and went slowly at first, not wanting to cause more pain for the Maia.

However, not only was he not rejected, but Mairon's mind seemed to welcome him. Námo couldn't detect a hint of fear or distress caused by his presence. In fact, he felt like he was embraced and welcomed. As he passed slowly through areas, they would grow calmer. The greys would slow their swirling, and shapes would become more distinguishable. Nothing returned to how it should be, but it was better.

Feeling encouraged, the Vala stopped and looked around, deciding how he would go about finding his young Maia.

As he thought, Námo took a good look at the landscape of Mairon's mind. Or at least, the bit of it he could see. He knew he was only on the edge of Mairon's mind, in an area the Maia inhabited frequently. The first thing to strike him about it was the haphazardness; there appeared to be no rhyme or reason to the thoughts, feelings and emotions swirling around him. It wasn't as grey as the earlier area, but the few colours visible were dull and muted.

The cabinets and cupboards Irmo had instructed Mairon to build way back in the Maia's first year with them were located here. They held some of the clutter scattered about. However, things were still very hazardous. The question of how Mairon could function with his mind in such a state crossed Námo's mind, but he firmly pushed the thought away. He could focus on things like that later.

Right now, he had a Maia to find.

Carefully avoiding an extremely haphazard pile of memories that suddenly appeared in his path, the Vala noticed a faint track leading out into the swirling greyness. Feeling a faint pull on his own consciousness, the Vala followed it. He'd soon left behind the cosiness and clutter of the Maia's thoughts and memories, finding himself in a desert landscape that was, unsurprisingly, devoid of colour. The path continued through this landscape, and so Námo followed it.

As he went along, the Vala was struck by just how colourless everything was. While grey was the dominant colour, there were other shades of nothingness that Námo had never seen before. The complete lack of colour bought to mind something Mairon had once said to him, after he'd come back from his stay with Nienna that one time.

"It was nice, but her place is so grey. I do not like grey; it makes me feel lonely and depressed. I like the colour in Mandos."

At the time, the Vala hadn't given Mairon's words much thought, beyond the obvious meaning. He himself found his sister's demesne to be depressing if he stayed there too long. He was always happy to get back to Mandos with Vairë's colourful tapestries, rugs, blankets and cushions. Now, in the colourless landscape of the Maia's mind, Námo was starting to understand what Mairon had truly meant about not liking grey.

It was not quite all nothingness, however. Here and there, a black skeleton of what looked like a tree appeared, only to be quickly swallowed up again by the grey mist. Námo travelled on the path for what seemed like ages. At some point, he'd fallen into a sort of trance, and so received a shock when he felt another presence abruptly enter his consciousness.

At first, he thought it was Mairon, and so reached out gladly. However, the seething anger that greeted his gentle probing was enough to cause the Vala to recoil in shock. Námo swallowed in dread as he recognised the power. Without making a conscious decision, Námo left the path, heading in the direction the anger had come from.

He didn't have to go far to find the source.

Námo stopped dead, eyes widening, as he took in the monstrous thing before him. It appeared to be a column of seething black cords, reaching up so high, Námo could not tell where the top was. Or even if it had one. The cords were coiling around, hissing in anger, though they didn't venture past a certain point in any direction. The Vala felt horror fill him, as he realised what he was looking at.

Mairon's core. This was Mairon's core. And the reason Melkor's power was in just that area was because of the necklace Aulë had made. Looking at the seething power, the Vala realised there was no way to give Mairon access to even his Maiarin powers. Námo had known the damage done to Mairon was bad. But he hadn't realised, up to now, the extent to which Melkor had bound and corrupted the Maia's will to do his bidding.

The cords seemed to recoil, shrieking, the closer he came to them. Námo stopped a good distance away and examined the bindings carefully. They were a mess, he realised with chagrin. He feared this was beyond even his or Irmo's skill to fix; Melkor had done the job too well. The only Valar who might be able to remove these bindings was Manwë. He was both the most powerful of them all (after Melkor), and the nature of his power was not dissimilar to his brother's. The longer Námo looked at the mess that was Mairon's soul, the more certain he became of this.

Which introduced a whole new set of complications into the equation Námo would have to chew over...

Right now, however, he needed to find Mairon, and convince him to go back with him. He had to be somewhere around. With as bleak and empty as the landscape around here was (apart from the bound core) Námo was surprised he couldn't detect as least a hint of where the Maia might be.

Retracing his steps back to the path, Námo continued past Mairon's bound core. It took a while, but the Vala noted the landscape around him was slowly starting to change. While before the ground had been flat and grey, there were now fissures appearing in it. These ranged from small cracks, to substantial valleys. Námo had to be careful not to accidentally fall into one, as the path did not always avoid them. As the Vala travelled further along, he instinctively knew Mairon was close by. Even though he couldn't sense him yet, he could feel the bond he shared with the Maia strengthening.

Then, abruptly, the mist ended. Námo found himself standing mere feet back from a sheer cliff face. A small figure stood at the edge of this cliff; below and in front of him, as far as one could see, there was swirling black nothingness. The oppressive silence that had been Námo's companion ever since he'd entered Mairon's mind seemed to deepen in its presence.

The Vala halted.

He'd found his charge.

"Mairon."

The Maia didn't turn, nor even acknowledge, Námo's presence. He was standing with his back to the Vala, staring out into the swirling blackness at something only he could see. He was clad in a grey robe that matched the landscape, and appeared to be even smaller here, in his own mind, then he was when in fana. He was also a lot greyer. The Maia's normal wavy copper hair was practically grey; hanging lank down his back. Námo suspected his skin and eyes would be much the same colour; though he couldn't confirm that with only seeing the Maia's back.

As he watched, Mairon took a hesitant half-step towards the chasm before him. Námo instinctively took a step forward as he softly spoke up.

"Mairon. Little One. You don't want to do that."

Still Mairon didn't appear to hear him. Not daring to go closer, Námo took a deep breath, saying two words.

"My son."

That prompted a reaction. The Maia stirred, his head tilting towards Námo. Feeling encouraged, the Vala spoke again.

"My son. It's time to go home."

At those words, the Maia turned to look at him properly. He didn't look surprised to see the Vala, nor did he show any fear at his presence. As Námo suspected would be the case, his skin was grey, but his eyes were an odd shade of yellow/orange that stood out in an otherwise grey landscape. What struck the Vala the most, however, was the hopelessness and pain in them.

A hopelessness he'd since thought they'd stamped out.

Apparently, he'd been wrong.

"My precious little one, what's wrong?" Námo asked, not daring to take another step, and risk having Mairon fall over the edge into the chasm below him. He was already dangerously close to it. Námo instinctively knew if that happened, he wouldn't be able to help Mairon. At his gentle question, the Maia's lower lip started trembling.

"It hurts." Mairon's eyes filled with unshed tears, as he looked helplessly at Námo. "It always hurts. People always hurt me. What do I have to do for them to stop hurting me? I've said I'm sorry."

The sheer helplessness and resignation in his voice shook Námo to his core. He'd thought they were making progress with helping the Maia understand the attitude of others wasn't his fault. Apparently, they were not as far along as he'd thought. Looking calmly at the Maia, Námo answered his question honestly.

"You don't have to do anything. Those who are hurting you are the ones in the wrong. You've done nothing wrong, Mairon. You are my precious son, and many, for reasons of their own, take issue with me loving you. Which I do, Mairon. I love you with all my being; I have since the first time you woke up in my care. I won't hurt you, my Little One. I am truly sorry others have to the point where you felt you had to retreat down here to be safe."

The Maia lowered his head in shame. Here, in his own mind, his feelings and emotions were open to Námo in a way they weren't when they were both in fanar. Not that Námo was prying, but the barrage of emotions he was getting didn't require him to.

"Here isn't safe, nowhere is, but it is away from the pain. At least, it's away from that pain." Mairon looked up at the Vala, seeming to suddenly realise Námo was indeed standing there, and wasn't an illusion. "You've come to take me back, haven't you? I don't want to go back. It hurts too much."

Námo didn't move. Gently, and with infinite patience, he addressed the Maia's question.

"Yes, I have. But it won't hurt when we get back. Estë is making sure of that. As will both Irmo and I. You aren't alone, Mairon. You won't ever be alone again."

The Maia's lower lip quivered even more.

"Promise?"

Námo nodded firmly, holding out his hand in a silent invitation.

"I promise."

To Námo, waiting patiently, it seemed like an age before Mairon moved, thankfully away from the chasm. Approaching the Vala with a good deal of hesitation, the Maia slowly took the hand that was offered. However, as soon as their hands made contact, he all but threw himself into Námo's embrace. The Vala was a bit nonplussed to suddenly find himself with an armful of sobbing Maia, but instantly draw him close, wrapping his arms around the shaking form. Now he had Mairon, he could've thought them both back to consciousness, but hesitated. He wasn't sure doing so wouldn't hurt Mairon even more.

While the Maia had accepted his presence in his mind, Námo wasn't about to start dictating what happened here. That was Mairon's call, and Námo would give him as much time as he needed to decide what to do. Finally, the shaking and sobs seized, and Mairon looked up at the Vala with those odd orange/yellow eyes.

"You came for me. I wasn't sure you would."

Námo hugged him fiercely.

"I will always come for you, Mairon. Have no fear of that."

Though tears were still running down his cheeks, the Maia's voice was steady.

"I thought you would refuse to enter my mind to find me, even though there was no other way. I knew I had no choice but to leave if I didn't want to go mad. The pain was just too great. Even as I was slipping away, I felt your presence, and tried to get back to you. I didn't want to leave once you were there, but the pain was too strong. Leaving my mental shields down, and hoping you would follow me, was all I could do. Even though I knew there was a high chance you wouldn't, because of me not being able to give explicit consent."

Mairon smiled at him.

"You once promised me you would never enter my mind without permission; and I wasn't in a state to properly grant it. Making sure my mental shields were down was the only thing I could think to do to let you know it was okay. Lord Irmo once taught me how to do that if I ever needed help." Mairon looked thoughtful. "Did he tell you about it?"

Námo nodded.

"Yes. He told me you were doing what he'd taught you to do in case you ever needed help, but weren't in a position to give permission."

Mairon smiled into the Vala's chest.

"It worked then. I wasn't sure it would. Having the theoretical knowledge about something is very different from doing it. I'm glad it worked."

Námo kissed his head.

"My brother is very good at what he does, and is also a good teacher."

Mairon nodded in agreement, relaxing into Námo's embrace.

"He is. You both are. If there won't be pain, I'm ready to go home. Carry me? Please?"

With a smile, Námo picked Mairon up, before starting back along the path. The Maia lent his head against him and closed his eyes, trusting the Vala to see them both out. The amount of trust and courage it took to not only allow Námo access to his mind and core, but trust him to get them both out again, was both startling, and humbling for the Vala. There had been times when Námo had felt it was one step forward, two steps back, with teaching Mairon he had nothing to fear from them. While he'd known for some time the Maia trusted him, Námo had been unaware of just how deep that trust run.

Until now.

It wasn't until they neared his bound core that the Maia opened his eyes, shrinking further into the Vala. When that happened, Námo halted, looking down at his son in concern.

"Are you okay?"

Mairon swallowed, looked at his bound core, visible as a dark column in the distance.

"I – I don't know."

Námo followed his gaze.

"He can't control you Mairon. Not with the bindings we've placed on his influence."

The Maia nodded.

"I know that. The reason it's contained in that one area is due to that. Before, the cords spread across this whole region. That's why it is so empty here. It – didn't used to be like a grey desert."

Námo looked around them, understanding dawning in his eyes.

"I understand now why you don't like the colour grey."

Mairon sighed.

"I really don't. Do we have to pass through it all?"

Námo pursed his lips, carefully calculating all his options, before he spoke.

"I can think us back to consciousness, but you might find it disconcerting. Which is why I don't want to do it without your permission. This is your mind; I have no intentions of doing anything here."

Mairon gave him a wobbly smile.

"I knew I did the right thing when I chose to pledge my service to you." Before Námo could respond, the Maia closed his eyes again. "You have permission to think us back, my lord. I just want to be out of here."

After briefly kissing the top of Mairon's head, Námo shifted his focus.