Chapter 8: Recovery

Námo's eyes suddenly cleared, and he blinked rapidly a few times. Simultaneously, Mairon's fana shuddered. The Maia stirred momentarily, before settled back in Námo's arms. His eyes were still closed, but his breathing was regular and strong, settling into a steady rhythm. Looking across at her brother-in-law in relief, Estë spoke.

"You found him."

Námo nodded.

"Yes."

He didn't elaborate, and none asked him to. Manwë was too busy looking after Estë and Írimawen, and Irmo knew better than to intrude on what had gone down between his brother and Mairon in the Maia's mind. Looking across at Estë, Námo spoke.

"He's physically healed?"

The Valië nodded. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her skin was paler than normal. However, her eyes were bright, and she was smiling.

"Yes. It was difficult, but he's out of danger now. He's not yet completely healed, but there shouldn't be any serious pain issues when he wakes up. The rest will heal in time."

Námo nodded, looking down at the sleeping Maia in his arms, before turning to Manwë.

"I trust you took care of those who did this?"

The Elder King nodded. He looked very troubled.

"Taking them into custody was the easy part. We need to punish all those involved for violating our Peace by attacking someone under our protection. This includes the elves. Which means we'll have to put them on trial, which I don't like doing."

Irmo looked grave, answering before Námo could think up a response.

"We have no choice. You said it yourself; they all violated our Peace. Given what we did last time an elf did that, we cannot be any less strict this time. Though we little like it, we have ourselves set a precedence we must follow through with. Or risk being accused of showing favouritism. Which it would be."

Estë, having finished assuring Írimawen she was fine, and checking her chief hadn't suffered any lasting damage from expanding so much of her energy to help her, now spoke up.

"It would be, and they wouldn't hesitate to protest it. We have no choice, Manwë. We must put the elves on trial, make it very clear to them and others what they did wrong, and why it is wrong. They all need to understand why we are doing this, and it needs to be handled with more eloquence then it was last time." Estë shuddered. "We don't want a repeat of the events that led to the Rebellion."

"Atar forbid." Námo said fervently, the others all echoing his sentiment. After a moment's silence, the Doomsman once again addressed Manwë.

"Where have you had the perpetrators taken?"

The Eldest in the thoughts of Ilúvatar sigh.

"To my palace in Valmar. I've ordered Nehtartúra be kept separate to the elves and have set my best warriors to guard them."

Námo frowned.

"Not that I am disputing the skills of your warriors, but with your permission, I will send Ambariel and Nécanyellë to guard Nehtartúra. I fear he will not be an easy guest, but it won't worry them."

Manwë had to suppress a shudder at the mention of those two Maiar, whose grimness was only matched by Tindómon and Yúcalion. Especially Yúcalion. That Maia was freaky. While Manwë loved all the Maiar, he would be the first to admit that didn't mean he got along with them all. And several of Námo's, especially, seemed to lack even a slight sense of humour, and possessed a grimness that even Námo didn't match. It tended to make the Elder King feel…uncomfortable, if he were in their presence too long.

"Fine by me. I was thinking of possibly even having him removed to Mandos until his trial. The elves, we can deal with. But, I would like to keep Nehtartúra confined with no outside contact until we're ready to deal with him."

Námo nodded.

"I can work with that. Right now, however, I am taking Mairon home. If no one has anything else needing my attention?"

His tone of voice clearly stated he was taking Mairon home regardless. But, nonetheless, Manwë appreciated the show of respect.

"Go, look after your son. My Maiar can handle Nehtartúra until you are ready for him."

Námo nodded in thanks, but, before he could make a move to leave, an indignant hiss, and the feeling of several needles entering his leg, caused him to squeal in shock. At least, that's what Irmo would later claim had happened. Námo would eternally deny he'd ever made such a noise.

"Owe! What the…oh. Marta."

The cat hissed at him again, thankfully withdrawing her claws. Nudging Mairon with her nose, the cat looked very upset and worried. Looking at the other three Valar (one of whom was grinning [Irmo] and the other two who looked vaguely amused) and the Maia (who was watching with wide eyes), Námo sighed.

"I guess there's something else that needs my attention. Yes, Marta? What is it?"

The cat mewed again as she continued rubbing her face on Mairon's arm. While he may not get on well with the cat, it still wasn't difficult to figure out what Marta wanted.

"You want to stay with Mairon?"

The cat mewed again, looking at the Vala balefully as he stood up. Before Námo could say or do anything more, however, Marta proceeded to use his robes to climb up onto Mairon's chest. The Vala's arms encircled his charge, with Mairon's head resting against his chest. Marta settled herself on the Maia's chest, resting her head against his chin and gently purring. Looking helplessly at the others, Námo sighed.

"Anything else, or can I go now?"

Manwë shook his head with a smile, while Irmo tried and failed not to giggle.

"No, I think that's all."

Námo wasted no more time in thinking the three of them back to Mandos. Irmo's gleeful giggles seemed to follow them; Námo briefly entertained thoughts of the things he would like to do to his infuriating little brother. Not that he ever would do any of them. He loved both his siblings dearly; would be lost without them. Besides, he knew Irmo was trying to let go of the stress and strain they'd all just been under. Námo was well aware maniacal giggling was one of the ways his brother dealt with stress.

Arriving in the section of the bathhouse normally reserved for him and Vairë, the Vala was relieved to note Vairë had put out everything he would need in anticipation of their arrival (he'd let her know via Ósanwe Mairon was safe as soon as he'd retrieved the Maia's consciousness). She'd even made sure a hot, lavender scented bath was waiting for them, lavender being Mairon's favourite oil. Gently laying his still sleeping charge on a towel-covered bench, Námo smiled as he gently rested a hand on Mairon's blood-matted hair. Taking a moment simply to reassure himself Mairon was here and safe, Námo began gently undressing him so he could wash off all the blood and grime. A strange-sounding sneeze made him look up with a start, before his eyes narrowed.

"Marta. What do you think you are doing?"

The cat didn't even acknowledge him, continuing to poke around in the pile of scented oil bottles, giving cat-sized sneezes every so often. Námo rolled his eyes, going back to looking after Mairon.

However, moments later, there was an almighty splash and a yawl the likes of which Námo swore made the nearby candles flicker. Next thing, a wet fur ball shot out of Mairon's bath like she'd been burnt, retreating a safe distance to sit on a mat and shake herself balefully. Námo couldn't help rolling his eyes at the disgruntled animal, though he knew he would probably pay for it later.

That cat was pure evil.

"Have you ever heard the saying, 'curiosity killed the cat?'"

Marta ignored him, busy trying to clean herself up. Rolling his eyes once more, Námo left her alone, turning his attention back to Mairon. Honestly, that cat was so weird.

All the commotion had woken Mairon up. The Maia blinked at Námo, still pretty out of it.

"What was that?"

"Marta was poking at things she shouldn't have been, and fell into the bath water as a result."

Mairon was clearly losing consciousness again, even as he spoke.

"She would..."

Námo rolled his eyes.

"Story of her life. Now, let's get you cleaned up and into bed, my little one."

Mairon didn't respond verbally. Eyes closed and breathing steady, he let Námo take care of him as he drifted back to sleep.

…

Námo sat next to Mairon's bed, gently holding the still-sleeping Maia's hand. A now dry Marta laid snuggled on the other side of him; she hadn't left Mairon's side even once since they'd arrived back in Mandos. She'd even seemed to put aside her hostility towards Námo (at least for now), which the Vala was enjoying immensely.

It was now almost two days since the Rescue. So far, Mai showed no signs of waking, apart from the few moments he'd surfaced while Námo was bathing him. Which wasn't entirely unexpected, Estë explained. While she'd healed him, he'd still depleted his own energy. It would take time to recover from the trauma both his fana and fëa had been put through.

*My love. How is he?*

Námo sighed, gently rubbing the back of Mairon's hand with the pad of his thumb.

*He still sleeps, showing no signs of waking. At least his rest is peaceful. After all he's been through, the last thing he needs right now is nightmares.*

Námo felt Vairë's sad sigh.

*Poor dear.*

Before Námo could respond, another mental voice began demanding his attention. Recognising Astarion's stressed-out tone, Námo closed his eyes with a mental groan.

*Excuse me a moment, my love. Duty calls.*

He could feel Vairë's amusement and understanding through their bond, even as she replied.

*Of course, my darling. I'm not going anywhere. You go see what poor Astarion has had enough of. He's being very loud and annoyed.*

Námo rolled his eyes, before addressing his chief.

*Yes, Astarion? What's wrong?*

The Maia's reply was instantaneous.

*If I have to deal with Fëanor and his fussing for one more day, I am going to resign my position and pledge service to someone else. I refuse to do this anymore, my lord! He refuses to listen to me, or do anything I tell him too. He needs a visit from you to set him straight. Not having seen you for this long has convinced him you are avoiding him on purpose, and his ego has grown to match this belief. Please, my lord.*

Námo sighed, closing his eyes. That elf was hell to deal with. He didn't blame Astarion's despair in the slightest. It was true he had been neglecting his duties as Lord of Mandos recently, not leaving Mairon's side ever since they'd found him. He wanted to be there when the Maia woke up, even though there was no indication of when that would happen.

*I understand, my son. It's okay; you don't have to deal with him anymore. I will sort him out. Take the rest of the day off. You've earnt it.*

The Maia's relief was palpable, even through ósanwe.

*Thank you, my lord.*

The connection faded. Námo sighed again, turning his focus back to Mairon. While he knew he had to go sort Fëanor out, he didn't want to leave the Maia alone, not even for a moment. Feeling his dilemma, Vairë spoke.

*I'll stay with Mairon while you go and remind that fëa who is in charge of Mandos.*

Námo sighed.

*Thank you my dear. I hate leaving him, but I have other duties and obligations I've been ignoring for too long. It should not be long, and I'll be back. In the meantime…call me if he shows any signs of waking, won't you?*

"Of course I will, my love."

Námo didn't start when Vairë appeared and wrapped her arms around him. Relaxing into his Love's embrace, the Valar kissed, before Námo squeezed Mairon's hand and reluctantly stood up.

"I'd better go deal with Fëanor. The sooner he's sorted, the sooner I can come back."

Vairë had already taken his place in the chair, covering Mairon's hand with her own. Giving him a gentle smile, she spoke to Námo without turning around.

"Go. We will be here when you return."

Námo reluctantly thought himself away, wishing he could just chuck Fëanor into some hole and forget about him. While he would never do that to any in his care, not even if he had a chance to, it was still a nice fantasy to indulge in.

It took him longer than anticipated to sort out all the problems that had accumulated ever since Mairon had first being abducted. After he'd set Fëanor straight, Námo checked in with several of his Maiar (who had been doing an admirable job of keeping things running in his absence; they were all going to get a big reward for their efforts) to get a report on the state of things. He was with Alassë, when a panicked scream of pure terror touched his mind.

Námo froze.

"MAIRON!"

Abruptly leaving a stunned Alassë, Námo thought himself to Mairon's room. Vairë was trying to sooth the thrashing Maia, without success. Looking at her husband with relief, the Valië spoke urgently.

"He won't wake up!"

In less time than it took to blink, Námo was cradling the Maia in his arms, trying to sooth him with his presence like he'd done so many times before. However, this time, the nightmare was too strong for Námo to overcome. Especially with the Maia's mental shields being firmly up.

*Irmo! We need you!*

The Vala of Dreams arrived a mere second later, immediately placing both hands on the Maia's head.

"Mairon, wake up. It's not real, it can't hurt you. Let it go, little one, and come back to us. You're safe, Mairon. Time to wake up."

As Irmo spoke, his hands began glowing with a soft blue light that soon spread through all his body markings, eventually reaching his eyes. Námo, desperately watching, started at hearing Irmo's voice in his head.

*Talk to him, brother. As far as I can tell, he's partially aware of his surroundings, but can't escape the nightmares grasp. Your voice will help anchor him.*

"Mairon, my son. It's okay, you're safe now. Come back to me, Mairon. Whatever's happening, it's not real. You're in Mandos, safe with me. Come back, my little one. I know you can do this…"

Námo wasn't even aware of what he was saying, keeping up a constant one-sided conversation as he continued hugging his son tightly. Irmo continued glowing blue as he added his own encouragement and expertise, introducing calm and order into Mairon's turbulent mind. Vairë stood nearby; a silent observer to the drama unfolding.

At first, nothing seemed to be working. Mairon had calmed slightly in Námo's embrace, but he was still thrashing and trying to get away from whatever horror he was experiencing. Irmo suspected it was a memory, but was unable to confirm anything with the shields in place. While he could send calm and positivity through the shields, he was unable to see or sense anything that was happening on the other side.

Then, just when Irmo was starting to feel desperate, Námo started singing.

It wasn't a lullaby or any of the usual things Námo was want to sing. It was a Song of Power, full of light and goodness and the triumph of good over evil. Mairon's thrashing, while initially increasing, gradually slowed as Námo's song continued. Námo sung of love and safety, peace and serenity; the power in the song seeming to vibrate through the very fabric of Eä. Irmo felt the darkness of the Maia's dreams recoil, and silently offered his brother support so he could continue singing.

Abruptly, the Maia gave a violent full-body shudder, his eyes opening. For a moment, they were filled with confusion and fear. Then, as Námo continued to sing of love, Mairon abruptly relaxed into his embrace, hiding his face in Námo's chest. The Vala continued his song for a few more moments, before looking down at the now conscious Maia.

"Are you okay, my little one?"

Mairon was crying.

"No. He-he tortured me. With tools me forced me to make."

The three Vala exchanged grim looks (none of them recalled seeing that memory), even as Námo hugged his child tightly.

"That's in the past, little one. It's just a memory; He can't hurt you, nor force you to do anything you don't want to, anymore."

The Maia hiccuped, clutching the Vala even tighter.

"I k-know. B-but it f-felt so r-real."

Irmo was the one to reply.

"They often do, but my brother is right. It's just a memory. A bad one by the sounds of it, but a memory nonetheless." Irmo gently laid a still glowing hand on the Maia's arm, trying to reassure him.

Before anyone could say or do anymore, Námo found his arms were full of thick brown and white fur as well as copper-haired Maia. Marta mewed and pawed at Mairon, clearly agitated. The Maia immediately scooped her up, hugging her to his chest as he cuddled back into Námo. The Vala sent a silent request to the other two, who faded away.

Once they were alone, Námo spoke.

"Would you like to tell me about it? While I won't remove the memory without explicit permission, I can help ease the pain it is causing you."

Mairon swallowed.

"It s-started after Lúthien…"

…

Námo's horror grew the longer the Maia talked. Mairon recounted tortures and horrors he'd experienced, some of which succeeded in making Námo feel sick. Melkor was truly demented and cruel. Námo knew that already. But, the more Mairon talked, the more he realised this was a whole new level of cruelty. The longer he listened, the more Námo realised how incredible Mairon was. To have suffered horrors like that, and have come through them as strong as he was today…

Finally, the Maia had no more to say. Cuddling both him and Marta, Mairon relaxed with a trembling sigh. It was a while before he spoke again.

"You came for me. Twice."

Námo nodded.

"I will always come for you. I've told you that many times, my son."

The Maia's lips twitched.

"I – may be starting to believe it."

Námo smiled. The special smile reserved just for his family.

"Good. And I will keep repeating myself and doing it until you believe it with all your being."

Mairon cuddled into him even more.

"Thank you. And thank you for looking after Marta. How's she been?"

Námo raised an eyebrow.

"It's thanks to her we found you so quickly. She followed you when you were abducted, leaving a trail Oromë was able to follow. She also clawed Nehtartúra's face to bits when she found you. That cat is a vicious little tyrant where your safety and happiness are concerned. She hasn't left your side since."

Mairon's eyes went big as he hugged the cat to him. Looking down at her, the Maia crooned at her.

"You really did that? My clever little girl."

Marta purred happily, rubbing her furry head against his chin. Mairon smiled at her as he continued.

"You're as protective of me as Lord Námo. I wish you would get along with him. It would make life easier."

Cat and Maia stared at each other for so long, Námo started making bets with himself on who would blink first. Then, Marta suddenly scrambled out of Mairon's arms. Rubbing her head against Námo's hand where it was still wrapped around the Maia, she began purring gently. The Vala was so taken back, for a moment, he could do nothing. Then, eyeing the cat carefully (not entirely sure she wasn't about to attack him) Námo stroked her head. When nothing bad happened, his movements became more confident. Marta continued purring gently at the attention, before rubbing her whole body against Námo's side, settling on his lap next to Mairon. Námo looked at Mairon's smile with slight confusion.

"Why's she being nice to me?"

Mairon smiled.

"Because I told her she'd held a grudge against you for long enough."

Námo blinked.

"What did I do to cause that?"

Mairon was trying to keep a serious expression, and clearly failing.

"You insulted her mismatched eyes when you first saw her."

Námo looked at Mairon in disbelief, before turning an accusing gaze to the cat.

"Is that all? You've been terrorising me for months purely because I remarked on your eyes?"

Marta had a victorious air about her, not deigning to answer. Mairon suddenly giggled.

"I think she's waiting for an apology, my lord."

Námo's eyes went even bigger, and he could feel Vairë, who'd been listening in to their conversation through ósanwe (as soon as Námo had re-established their mental connection), trying not to die of laughter. Sending his most foreboding glare to his wife (which only served to make her laugh even harder) the Vala turned to the cat with all the dignity and sarcasm he could muster.

"I am sorry, your highness, if I offended you. That was not my intent."

He could feel the echo of more than Vairë's laugh in his mind, but resolutely ignored his brother. He would do anything for any of his Maiar. If 'anything' meant apologising to a cat, then Námo would do it.

No matter how silly it made him look in the eyes of others. Námo actually didn't care what others thought. His only concern was making sure he did the right thing by those in his care.

"Are we friends now?"

Námo addressed the cat, who purred and rubbed against his hand. Looking down at a giggling Mairon, the Vala raised an eyebrow at them both.

"Does this mean I can stop tiptoeing around corners in fear of my feet being attacked now?"

Mairon's giggle did not dissipate for a long time.

Of Course Marta knew what she was doing all along. That cat is probably the smartest person in Valinor. Possible in Middle Earth as a whole, actually.

Thank you everyone for your reviews! While I'm not feeling up to responding personally to every one, I love getting them and they are pushing me to keep posting this.