Chapter 15: Finrod

Námo resisted the urge to hide his head in his hands and groan.

Not that Tavaril would have judged him if he did, but it was a rather undignified action. And Námo tried to always be dignified.

Which wasn't always easy where the First Born, especially, were involved.

"Seriously? Finrod thinks demanding what he wants from a Valar will have the desired results? Sometimes, I seriously wonder how that elf managed to rule an entire kingdom for as long as he did."

Tavaril shrugged.

"He is very distraught, my lord. I think the attitude is his way of keeping himself from falling apart? Either way, Finrod wants to see you, and it is not a social visit."

With a heavy sigh, the Vala stood.

"I had better go deal with him. Though I already know what he wants. Frankly, I'm surprised it took him this long to confront me. He's in the Valmar mansion?"

Tavaril nodded.

"Yes. In the Gardens. Vanimeldë is keeping him company. Her presence helps keep him calm."

Námo nodded.

"That makes sense. She was his chief attendant the whole time he was in Mandos. Thank you, Tavaril. You may go."

The Maia inclined her head before disappearing. Námo took a few moments to smooth down his clothes (even though they were already perfectly pressed), as he thought about how to handle this. For all that he'd been out of Mandos for some time, Finrod's emotional state was not fully mature yet. He might be a prince of the Noldor, and a former king, but that didn't mean his death wasn't still affecting him.

Even more so now the cause of it was living in Valinor under the protection of the Valar.

This would be an interesting conversation.

As it turned out, Námo had underestimated just how interesting it would be.

"Let me get this straight. You want to talk to Mairon?"

Finrod nodded obstinately.

"Yes."

"Why?"

The elf's jaw tightened.

"I want to ask him why he did it."

Námo's expression didn't change.

"He has his reasons, damn compelling ones, and is under no obligation to share them with anyone."

Finrod reflectively swallowed at the warning note in Námo's otherwise pleasant enough tone.

"I still want to ask him. What he did, and then what he said a few days ago…none of it makes sense."

Námo said nothing, waiting patiently for the elf to sort out what he wanted to say.

"He – he said he wished I had killed him. Yet from what I know, he can't be killed. He said he regretted what he did. But its that's true, why did he do it? I – I just want some answers. He did kill me, and I want to know why, if he regrets it so much."

Námo remained impassive, though he did send out a wave of calm to the visibly shaking elf.

"He has his reasons, as I said before. I will go ask him if he is willing to talk. If he isn't, that is the way it is. However, if he does agree, there is to be no pushing him to tell you anything he isn't comfortable with. Mairon has been through a lot, much more than you have, and I will not have my Youngest feel trapped or threatened in any way. Do you understand, Finrod?"

The elf's expression was uncertain.

"No…but I understand he is not to be made to tell me anything he doesn't want to. What do you mean by your youngest?"

Námo gave the elf a long look.

"We Ainur are not all the same age. I will be back shortly. Don't go anywhere."

Finrod gave the Vala as scathing a look as he could manage right now. His time in Mandos had made him lose all fear of the often grim and unsmiling Vala.

"I wouldn't be able to find my own way out of his maze of rooms you call your mansion even if I tried. Not until you're ready to let me go. I'm not that stupid."

Námo raised an eyebrow.

"I never said you were."

With that, the Vala disappeared, leaving Finrod blinking and trying to figure out what that was supposed to mean.

Námo returned shortly, a slight copper-haired figure in tow. Before Finrod could say anything, the Vala spoke.

"Mairon has agreed to talk to you, Finrod. Remember what I said."

With that warning, the Vala disappeared, though Finrod didn't kid himself that he wasn't far away. Still, with the Doomsman gone, the elf could focus on the Maia he'd come to see.

The Maia he'd hated with a passion up until a scant few days ago.

The Maia he now wasn't sure how he felt towards.

The Maia who'd killed him.

The Maia who'd publicly apologised for doing so, and stated he regretted everything that had happened while tears streamed down his face.

Finrod had spent every spare moment since the Trial figuring out what he wanted to say if he was granted an audience with the Maia, and how to say it. He'd rehearsed his speech time and time again, wanting to make sure he had everything right. Now, however, standing face to face with the Maia, the elf couldn't get his brain to work properly. All his elaborate speeches, his carefully worded questions, had gone out the window the moment the Maia had arrived, leaving him floundering.

"Why?"

The Maia did not raise his eyes. They remained firmly fixed on the ground in front of his feet.

"You will have to be more specific if you want coherent answers."

Finrod blinked, taken back yet again at the soft voice and small stature of this Maia. If he hadn't seen his eyes at the Trial, Finrod would still not have believed he was Sauron.

"Why did you kill me?"

The Maia sighed.

"That...was an accident. I didn't plan on killing you. You were obviously a Noldo of some importance, and thus worth more alive. You managed to neatly foil my plan of keeping you alive by sacrificing your life for Beren's. I – often wondered why you did that. Why the life of a mortal was so important to you, you would give up your own without a second thought to ensure his safety."

Finrod swallowed.

"I gave his father my oath."

"It must have been Some Oath to lead you to do that."

"I keep my word, once it is given."

The Maia raised his head, locking eyes with Finrod. The elf's thoughts stuttered to a stop as he beheld those oh-so-familiar (yet at the same time not-at-all-familiar; the eyes looking at him were not like Sauron's), golden eyes.

"You really want to know why I did it all? Fine, but don't blame me for the nightmares. I did it all because I didn't want my mind to be forcefully invaded by Melkor again. Have him rifle through my very soul, destroy it, and rebuild it how he saw fit. Once was more than enough. The moment my usefulness to him ran out, that was likely the fate that awaited me. It was bad enough he violated and bound my core to his will. After thousands of years doing his every bidding, it would have taken very little to completely break my mind, making me his literal puppet."

Finrod's thoughts stuttered to halt. Staring at the Maia in open horror, the elf tried to understand what he'd just been told. His mouth was open, but no sound escaped, words having completely deserted him alongside his ability to form a coherent thought. Finally, he managed to croak a sentence.

"M-Morgoth forcefully in...invaded y-your m-mind?"

The depths of pain and agony in those golden eyes shook the elf to his core, making him feel physically sick.

"Yes. I – made the mistake of trying to leave his service once. He was – less than pleased when he found out. I was too valuable a thrall to lose, so he punished me by violating my very sense of self, binding my free will to his in the process. I – I could not disobey a direct order; was compelled to serve his will in everything I did. Every decision I made was governed by a single thought. 'Will this benefit Master?'. He…forced his own desires on me; and I-I was not strong enough to resist. It – wasn't personal, Finrod. None of it was."

The Maia's eyes were dry, even as his voice broke a little. Turning slightly away, he hunched in on himself. Finrod was shocked to realise that, somewhere along the line, tears had started falling from his own eyes without him even being aware of it. Trying to understand what the Maia was saying had brought his already overwrought nerves to breaking point.

"He – controlled you."

"Controlled my motives and desires, yes. And…controlled my will."

The Maia looked at Finrod properly for the first time, golden eyes shimmering with unshed tears of his own.

"Not having your own will is terrifying. Not knowing what thoughts are yours, and what are His, is even worse. Not knowing if your feelings about something are your own or someone else's; not been able to differential your very sense of self from that of another. I would not wish that on anyone. It – was hell. To this day, I'm not sure how I survived it."

The tears gathering in the Maia's dull eyes finally spilled over, though he seemed unaware of them. That was it, Finrod realised. Those eyes were the same colour as Sauron's, but they were dull, holding a tangible uncertainty and fear. Two emotions Finrod had never associated with Sauron...

But, if the Maia in front of him wasn't Sauron anymore…

"What happened to Sauron? You say you are not him; so, how are you different? If Morgoth really did-did…that to you" the elf shuddered, "how did you overcome him?"

The Maia sighed.

"I…haven't. Melkor's influence is still there. It is just locked away for now."

Finrod bit his lip so hard, he tasted blood.

"If he really controls your very will, what's to stop him from taking over?"

The Maia's hand subconsciously rose to hover just above the necklace he wore.

"You needn't worry about that, Finrod. The Valar…bound me. I cannot access any of the power he put in me, nor can I even access my natural Maiarin ones. In my present state, I am no more powerful or stronger then you are, Finrod. In fact, you are probably stronger. I – still haven't recovered much strength. I can't even lift Marta right now." The Maia's eyes closed as he dropped his head. "Which I could before this whole kidnapping business. What was done to me…"

The Maia trailed off. Finrod did not push him for more details. He knew enough now to realise those elves had gotten off extremely lightly, all things considered. The Valar, especially Lord Námo, had shown extreme self-restraint in what they'd done. Mairon's words did raise one question, however…

"Who's Marta?"

The Maia genuinely smiled for the first time, his eyes brightening minutely.

"My cat. She is an absolute darling, but so big and heavy I cannot always pick her up. Lady Yavanna gave her to me. I – she looks after me."

With that, the Maia fell silent, going back to staring at the ground. Finrod was also silent as he processed everything he'd been told. It was a lot to take in, especially as he'd come into this blaming the Maia in front of him for everything. Now, however, the elf realised it hadn't exactly been his choice.

And, knowing all he did now, it was practically impossible to reconcile this Maia with the mental image he still had of Sauron.

This Maia was not Sauron. Not anymore.

"M-Mairon? Is that your name now?"

The Maia raised his head.

"Yes. It – was always my name. Until it was taken away. But the Valar gave it back to me. They don't hold me responsible for anything I did while under His control."

Finrod was beginning to understand why that was. However…

"But you still joined him in the first place."

Mairon sighed.

"A decision I have regretted almost every day since."

"If you feel like that, why did you?"

The Maia's shoulders drooped as he spoke in a dull voice.

"I was young, insecure and foolish. Morgoth used those qualities to his advantage. Looking back, I can see how he played me expertly every step of the way. But back then…the world was young, Finrod, and everything was new. We were all figuring things out; even Him. And by the time I realised his true nature…it was too late. He had me, and took steps to ensure I wouldn't be able to leave."

Mairon shrugged as he looked back up at Finrod.

"Is there anything else you would like to know?"

Finrod swallowed.

"Why Lord Námo?"

The Maia gave a small, yet genuine, smile as his eyes brightened again.

"He never hurt me. From the start, he has always been patient and kind. And loving. I – never knew what love was, until Námo showed me." The Maia's smile widened at whatever memory his words conjured up. "After all he has done for me without expecting anything in return, how could I not love him back, and desire to serve him with everything I have?"

Finrod did not know how to respond to that. The fact Mairon associated not being hurt as something worth pledging his life service to, deeply disturbed him. That what he considered basic decency could be seen as something sacred…well.

Finrod had no words to describe how that made him feel.

Mairon noticed his expression.

"I am happy with my life, Finrod. It's not been easy, but I think I am finally making some good choices. I –"

Mairon kept talking, but Finrod couldn't hear him over the blood pounding in his ears. He suddenly felt very light-headed, and his vision blackened around the edges…

Mairon stood rooted to the spot as Finrod's face lost all colour and he swayed dangerously. Then, panic took over.

"MY LORD!"

Námo was there instantaneously, just in time to catch Finrod as the elf crumbled to the ground in a faint. Looking at a white-faced Mairon, the Valar spoke calmly.

"It's not your fault, Mai. Vanimeldë!"

Moments later, the Maia appeared. Taking one look at the situation, she sighed, before moving to take Finrod's limp body out of Námo's arms.

"This is becoming a habit with him, isn't it?"

Námo's voice was wry.

"So it seems. It's okay, Mai. This isn't your fault; you have done nothing wrong." Námo gently drew his trembling Maia into his embrace. "Finrod has a lot of trauma to work through, and has just suffered a rather big shock. However, it will be good for him in the long run. He's held onto the past for way too long."

Vanimeldë looked up from where she was holding the elf to smile at her youngest brother.

"That he has. Finrod is too stubborn for his own good. You wouldn't believe the arguments he got into with me over when he had to sleep or rest. He could be practically asleep on his feet, yet still argue he wasn't tired just because he didn't want to be tired." Vanimeldë looked at Mairon with concern. "Are you okay? I don't know what you two spoke about, but you look almost as pale as he does."

Mairon gave her a watery smile.

"I – think I will be. Thank you."

Vanimeldë gave him a long look, before nodding and returning her attention to the elf. Looking up at Námo, Mairon spoke softly.

"My lord, could we go home please?"