Chapter 22: Concerns and Discussions
Later that same day.
Námo's voice held utter conviction.
"Something is wrong with that Maia's fëa. Of that, I am certain. Irmo, have you noticed anything at all?"
The Lord of Lórien shook his head, worry shining in his bright silver eyes.
"Nothing that will explain any of this. He is still hurting from the War and what came before; recent events haven't helped those wounds at all. But, I can't detect anything else amiss. And I detected nothing amiss when your head started pounding. Are you sure Sámotára has something to do with it?"
Despite having heard Námo's reasoning before, Irmo still looked highly confused, and very worried. The Doomsman sighed at the question.
"It started when I looked at him after I pronounced his Doom. I can't be completely sure he was the cause, but all the evidence suggests he was somehow involved with what happened. Even if it was subconsciously, or even unconsciously, on his part. Mairon feeling my pain, I'm not so concerned about. Our bond grows stronger day by day, and similar things have happened before with me and my Maiar. Though Mairon's mind is too open to me. He needs to learn to shield his thoughts more and filter mine out, so he doesn't get an overload of whatever I'm thinking or feeling. I think that is what happened."
Irmo, who'd spoken to Mairon earlier about what he'd felt and experienced, nodded in agreement.
"I think that is what happened. And the solution will not be too complicated. With time, I can teach him how to do all those things. With his willingness to learn and please, it will probably be the easiest thing on my plate right now." Irmo made a face. "Everything else demanding my attention is much more complicated then teaching a willing Maia the elementary skills to control what he allows into and out of his mind."
Námo gave a single nod in agreement. He knew teaching Mairon what he needed to know would not be a hard job for his brother. Manwë, who'd listened without comment to the brothers discussing how to help Mairon, now spoke softly.
"I still don't like the implications of this."
Námo gave the older Vala a questioning look.
"Which ones? The implications that something bad is probably going to happen fairly soon, the implications that we don't have a clue what is going on, or the implications of what happened with Mairon?"
Manwë's expression did not change.
"All. I don't like any of this. It brings up too many questions, and no answers to almost any of them. While Irmo thinks the strong bond between you and Mairon is what caused him to feel your pain, there is no satisfactory answer to anything else that happened. I – I don't know what to do about any of this. Námo, Irmo…I – I don't like not knowing what to do."
Manwë studied his hands as he finished speaking, not looking up at the Fëanturi. The three of them sat under an arbour in a secluded corner of Lórien, discussing the events of last night. It was late evening, the setting sun casting long shadows on the grass nearby. There was no one else about in this part of the gardens at this time of day, so there was no chance of anything they said being heard by the wrong people.
"I think you are doing okay, Manwë. Don't be so hard on yourself. Things aren't easy for any of us at present; it is not all on you."
Irmo's face was solemn as he spoke. Reaching out, he placed a gentle hand on Manwë's fidgeting hands, stilling them. The older Vala raised his head, meeting the Dreammaster's eyes briefly, before dropping his head again.
"I – thank you, Irmo. Hearing it from you, especially, means a lot."
The youngest Valar present sighed.
"It may seem like I never take things seriously, but that doesn't mean I don't care. I just find it almost impossible to concentrate at times." Irmo looked sheepish. "And I do think you need to lighten up a little, Manwë. You are always so solemn and serious. It wouldn't hurt you to let loose occasionally. Allowing yourself to have fun for one afternoon won't cause the world to suddenly end."
Námo snorted. Manwë looked between the brothers with a doubtful expression.
"But what if it does?"
Irmo groaned, dramatically massaging the bridge of his nose. Námo rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh at his brother's put-upon expression.
"If it does, it does. At least you would have had fun on the way down. We don't have enough fun together. Maybe we should take a leaf out of the elves books, and create some 'public holidays' for ourselves and our Maia? Say, that is a great idea! We could make it an annual event even! Or even two events a year!"
Irmo's silver eyes sparkled at the thought, totally unbothered they'd gotten off-topic. Námo sighed, reaching over to pinch Irmo's bare arm. Hard. It was one of the most effective ways he'd found of keeping his brother on-topic when his mind started to wander.
"Owe!"
Irmo rubbed his arm resentfully, glaring at his brother.
"What was that for?"
"You were getting side-tracked. We are here to discuss the potential doom that is hanging over us all, not to plan Valar-sanctioned holidays. Focus!"
The younger Vala sighed at the explanation, looking very hangdog and subdued.
"You are right. Sorry Manwë. I can't always keep my thoughts on track. But the way I see it, there isn't a lot we can do regarding your worries over Sámotára. I will keep a very close eye on him, and ensure he is never left alone. But, as only Námo detected anything out of the ordinary with him at his trial, I'm not sure I will be able to pick up on anything." Irmo now looked very worried. "Which is a concern. I don't want to let potential problems I can fix slip past. But if I can't detect anything –"
The Vala paused, gathering his thoughts before he spoke softly.
"Well, I can't do anything about something I'm not aware of."
Manwë nodded.
"None of us can. Which is why clear and effective communication is the key here. Without Námo, we would not know there is something not quite right with Sámotára's fëa. Without Mairon talking to us about how he felt, we would not know about his need to learn control over his thoughts. Without communication…" Manwë sighed. "With it, a lot of disasters of the last few centuries could have been averted, or at least managed, so they were not as bad. That is mostly on me, whatever anyone says. But, I am trying. Though I can't see we can do anything in this situation but monitor Sámotára, and see what happens."
"Unless one of you has a better idea?"
The Fëanturi shook their heads in unison, though Námo alone answered.
"No, we have nothing. That is the most sensible course of action, the way I see it. Irmo agrees with me. There is really nothing else we can do."
Námo did not look happy at that thought. Manwë just sighed; he looked decisively unhappy about the whole thing.
"May Atar help us all."
"That's it Mairon. You are doing great!"
Irmo enthusiastically encouraged the Maia, whose energy was starting to flag somewhat. Learning to build his own mental shields to filter out what he didn't want invading his mind was exhausting work. Especially given Mairon was still not terribly strong mentally. The key was to take it slow, and it wasn't long before Irmo decided they'd done enough for one day.
"Okay, Mai. That's enough for now. Very good work, by the way. You are one of the best students I've ever had; always doing what I tell you. I wish others would be as obliging."
The Maia ducked his head as his cheeks took on a pink tinge. Smiling at him, Irmo stood up and rolled his shoulders, groaning when one of them cracked.
"Owe. I've been sitting still for too long. You okay?"
Mairon nodded as he stretched out his legs, but otherwise remained seated. The two of them were sitting on cushions on the floor of one of Irmo's private pavilions in Lórien. Rubbing his forehead with a sigh, Mairon looked at the Vala with tired eyes.
"Yes, thank you. I – I am sorry it is taking so long."
Irmo shook his head as he rotated his neck to stretch out the muscles.
"Not your fault. These things take time even when someone knows what they are doing. Given the circumstances, you are doing extremely well. Rushing things will just undo all the work we've already put in. We'll get there. There's no rush. Now, what do you want to do now?"
Mairon tiredly rubbed his eyes as he replied.
"I would like to go back home please, Lord Irmo."
The Vala nodded.
"Okay. Like me to call Námo?"
Mairon nodded, and it did not take long for the Lord of Mandos to arrive. Scooping Mairon up into his arms, Námo spoke to his brother via ósanwe.
*How did it go?*
Irmo smiled.
*He went great. We still have a lot of work to do, but we will get there. I am afraid I may have pushed him a bit too hard today. I decided to let him set his own limits about how much he could handle, which may have been a mistake. But, he insisted he could do it.*
Námo's gaze softened as he looked down at Mairon. The Maia had cuddled into him and was almost asleep.
*He does that. But I don't think there is anything wrong with him apart from exhaustion. A good night's sleep, and a couple of days off, and he'll be fine. Thank you, Irmo. I'll let you know when he's ready for the next session?*
The Dreammaster nodded.
*Please do. But let him take all the time he needs to recover from this one. Even though the improvement from what he used to be is incredible, he is still not as strong as he likes to think he is.*
Námo nodded in agreement, not removing his gaze from Mairon's face. The Maia's eyes were closed and his breathing was regular, indicating he'd fallen asleep while they'd been talking.
*I know. But he is getting stronger. Once he is more in control of what he allows in and out of his mind, I am thinking of having him start working with some of the fëar. I feel he would be a good fit for some of my more, recalcitrant, residents.*
Irmo raised an eyebrow.
*Surely you aren't thinking of sticking him on Master Fëanoro Finwëian. That is a bad, bad idea. I'm not sure anyone else I'm thinking of will be any better but…*
Námo's expression gave nothing away.
*Literally nothing will change Fëanor, and I would not inflict him on anyone without them volunteering for it. But his sons aren't all as pig-headed as their father, and I think Mairon's experiences could break down some of the barriers they have constructed around themselves.*
Irmo pursed his lips, before shrugging.
*Mairon's yours. It's up to you what you do with him. I know you would never do anything that has the potential to harm him, but…* Irmo sighed. *I have a real soft-spot for him, and don't want to see him put in any situation where he could be hurt. Especially given how fragile his mental state is right now. While he's state-of-mind is positive and strong, it's only surface strength.*
Námo agreed.
*Yes. Which is why that will not happen until we are both confident he is ready for it. However, we do have to think of the future. Mairon is mine now, and eventually I am going to have to find something permanent for him to do in Mandos. And almost everyone in my service helps with the fëar in some capacity. It is reasonable to expect Mairon to eventually want to do the same.*
Irmo nodded.
*I know he will. The way he is already imitating you…* The Vala smiled at the hooded form curled up in Námo's arms. Mairon was seldom seen without his hood these days. *I know he is going to want to be more and more like you as time goes on. They all end up being like that, eventually. Which is what makes looking after them such a privilege. It is up to us, the First Born in Atar's thoughts, to guide and teach those whom came after. It is an awesome responsibility, if a rather daunting one.*
Námo mentally sighed.
*I know. That is the reason Atar gave us each other. So we don't have to go at the journey alone.*
Irmo's expression grew pained.
*Something Manwë is seemingly just learning. Námo…I've never seen him behave quite like that before. In fact, his behaviour recently has been all-over-the-place. Is he okay?*
The elder Fëanturi gave a single nod.
*He is. Manwë has had a few tough realisations recently. But they are all for the best. Melkor…he hurt us all in some way.*
Irmo nodded slowly in understanding.
*I see.*
The Fëanturi were silent for a while, before Námo stirred.
*Well, I'd best get Mairon home and put him to bed. I'll see you around, brother.*
Irmo nodded.
*That you will. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. You can't get rid of me that easily.*
Námo's lips twitched.
*I know. And I am forever grateful to Atar for that.*
Before Irmo could reply, Námo suddenly gasped as his head started pounding. It wasn't as bad as it had been a few days prior, but it still made thought difficult as his entire head felt like it was about to explode. Then, as suddenly as it arrived, it was gone, leaving Námo feeling very disoriented and confused. Thankfully, he'd had enough presence of mind to conceal his emotions from the Maia he held. Mairon continued sleeping peacefully, even as Irmo frowned in concern at Námo's actions.
*Brother, what is wrong?*
Námo raised his head to look at him. His expression and countenance were grim.
*I just had another 'migraine' attack that appeared and disappeared suddenly with no warning. It wasn't as bad as last time, but something is very wrong here brother…*
The Maia frowned slightly at the butterfly sitting on the palm of her hand. It was far from the first time one had, but, for some reason, the sight of this pretty little blue thing happily flittering its wings as it rested annoyed her. Taking a careful look around to ensure no one would see, the Maia suddenly closed her fist hard around the butterfly, squeezing it. She left it like that for a few moments, before curiously opening her hand. The butterfly was now little more than a crumpled bit of squishy black body and blue wings, and she felt vaguely disappointed at the anti-climax of it all.
However, the longer she looked at it, the more the sight of its death stirred in her something she had never felt before. She felt a thrilled shiver go up her spine as the knowledge she had done this sunk in. She had brought the creature to this state. She had done this, all by herself…
Looking quickly around again to make sure she was still alone, the Maia carelessly tossed the butterfly aside, before standing up and wandering away. Her mind was busy dwelling on the implications of the power she suddenly held, the possibilities it presented. It almost seemed a shame to have wasted even a little bit on something as small and insignificant as a butterfly. Power such as this deserved a worthy target…
To Be Continued…
NOTES: And I will continue. In Part 3. Which is fully written, if rather rough and unedited. I will clean it up a bit before posting, but I'm not putting a huge amount of effort into it.
Part 4 (the finally part, this was always going to have four parts) is partially written. I will try and finish it, but I'll just have to see if the Plot Bunnies are in the mood anytime. But Part 3 is finished, so I will start posting it in the next day or two.
I hope it all lives up to expectations.