Of the Mórilindalë and the Darkening of the Skies
It is in these times of fading, of this Third Age of Arda that the Free Peoples will seek weapons with which to wage war upon the Dark Lord. It is folly, I say, to wield weapons that bring death in full and direct measure, for in such folly one falls to his grasp. As ever I have maintained, Knowledge is the greatest weapon of all.
Gandalf the Corruptor is his name, Olórin of the Elder Days. 'Elf of the Wand', he is so known, for his walks of guile and deception among the First and Secondborn alike. He was not once such, as was his Master.
Mayhap 'twas not to be. Mayhap 'twas but a blight, a chance of fate, a cold spot within the depths of a warm ocean, but he was never destined to fall. Nay, I have heard thus, from his tongue and those of Maiar wiser than myself, that I was to be second Dark Lord of Arda.
I of the smith-folk, third-comer and greatest among the Istari, he whose raiment is amber and whose flames are warm. I, who have been saved by the decision and terrible destruction wrought by the Dark Lord of the First Age.
A terrible price to pay, and weight upon my conscience which is yet stretched thin. And for such was I reluctant to come clad in flesh to Arda to counter the influence of Gandalf, servant of Manwë the Lost.
I have this tale from the tongue of Eönwë the Mighty, who is now repentant. Once the greatest of our Order and the most terrible when he was Lost in the First Age he was named Raumotar, Lord of Storms, by the Noldor.
And yet for all his might, for all his unmatched mastery of the blade and the streams of lightning with which he tortured his foes in his Lord's service, he was never closest to his lord's thought. That honour most dubious is borne by Gandalf himself, whose burden has been greater save he upon Taniquetil.
Some say Manwë Cerihtando, the doom-reaper, fell for the sake of power. Some say 'twas a whim of Ilúvatar who is Above. His maiar proclaim that 'twas not his destiny to fall but that of his brother Melkor, he who Arises in Might and Greatest of the Valar who sits on Ilmarin upon Taniquetil.
Elbereth Gilthoniel, Varda Elentarí, Elder Queen of the Valar and whom the Eldar revere above all else, is given to hate him above all and revile his works. She shall say that he fell due his first deception, the victim of which he was himself.
And yet her consort, Melkor, who sits as King where she is Queen, has forbidden that he be called aught else apart from Manwë the Blessed which is the Dark One's ordained name. It is for Melkor is the only one apart from Ilúvatar who knows the truth in full.
Though Aulë the Smith remains my rightful lord, I have had long association with Lord Melkor, and have learned much from him. I know thusly that his is a sorrow greater than mine, for he and the Dark One were Brothers in the thought of Ilúvatar.
Manwë Súlimo, who is now Cerihtando, has but one answer when faced with interrogation- he maintains to this day as he is beyond the Door of Night that his actions are locked in time. That he did what he did for he had to; for he had no choice.
Melkor, who is older than he, decries such as a falsity as an attempt at rationalisation by his brother, to prevent his own return for the light. Manwë the Dark fell for he had a choice, and in that knowledge does Melkor weep.
What choice, then, that could be so monumental for the one closest to the thought of Ilúvatar, he who was born to be kindest among the Valar to become Dark Lord?
Why, Manwë Cerihtando turned to the Darkness out of love.
Thence did Gandalf follow him, a pale shadow of his lightning-wielding master, one who walks upon the same path of ruin.
- Mairon Aulendil, Chief of the Five Wizards
Ere the beginning, there was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar; and He made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of His thought.
There was then naught of the firmament that is Eä, naught of being, indeed, save the Timeless Halls which are the Ainur's true home.
It is cannot be said whether the Ainur sprung forth at once, or if they were made in order. There was then no meaning unto Time, for ere one could tell what Time it was, one must tell Time What It Was.
And for this purpose were the brothers conceived, Belekōrōz and Mānawenūz, the Mighty-Arisen and the Blessed One, and they were with Him before all things.
Belekōrōz, who is now known as Melkor in the Quenya tongue, was first-born in Eru's thought, and he learned at the hand of the Eternal Night. Mightiest among all Ainur is he, and has a share in the Gifts of all others.
And so lay the folly of Melkor, in that he had true mastery of none. Ilúvatar, such was His will, left his firstborn incomplete, for he had not the Flame Imperishable.
And thus, ere time was made, did Belekōrōz search for it, never knowing that the flame resided in his own heart, as it did for all else, and the power to wield it in Creation lay with Ilúvatar alone.
Mānawenūz, whose name remains blessed unto this day and is known as Cerihtando the Reaper, was he who gave the frame of Time its meaning. He is not merely lord of winds but of currents, of all paths and passages, of all notes of reference, and even in darkness does his knowledge hold highest of all.
Though he owns not his brother's gifts, he has one separate, for he is closest in thought and will to Ilúvatar, and the one best capable of interpreting His intent. And so may he decipher and understand the spheres of dominion of all Powers, though he may but wield his own.
When he saw his elder brother, who paid not notice to his existence, he felt naught of jealousy but pride, for since his first awakening Mānawenūz had held naught but love for his kindred. While Belekōrōz searched in vain for the Flame Imperishable and summoned the ungainly desire to supplant his Father, Mānawenūz was gifted wisdom instead, and spoke long with Ilúvatar.
To all His children was given the gift of free will, and Belekōrōz had it in full, yet this sorrowed Mānawenūz, who wished no harm done to Belekōrōz, be it or not of his own making for he had not his younger brother's depth of understanding.
Yet Mānawenūz was patient, and he sang in a dialect without words of other things, andin that his purpose was fulfilled. The latticework of Time came to be, and Mānawenūz was become the essence of creation- a being of order as his brother was of chaos.
'Twas one day that Ilúvatar confided in him that he was to be highest in authority among the Ainur, who were yet to be birthed. Mānawenūz disagreed, for he felt Belekōrōz with his greater gifts was better suited, but knew he had a depth of understanding that his elder had not, and agreed reluctantly.
Yet as soon as Authority over Belekōrōz was given to him, he had the power to assuage his doubts and fears, and so he approached his searching brother who spoke naught to him and told him the truth he had known.
"Thou art mistaken, Belekōrōz, in thy search for what is unattainable without, for it rests within."
And Belekōrōz understood, and did unto himself a folly; for the Mighty-Arisen was obsessed with attaining power of his own with which he could truly create, that he ripped himself apart.
Shadows of the eternal void rose to fill his core, and the greatest of the Ainur was darkened in nature forevermore- but not. For Mānawenūz, moved to compassion for his brother as only he could be, sacrificed a portion of his own part of the Flame that it renewed the heart of Belekōrōz and let his fëa heal.
And yet, in this act, he was reprimanded by his father, for Belekōrōz had made the choice to Fall, and he had prevented it, thus curtailing his brother's free will. This brought forth the first great sorrow of Mānawenūz, and was perhaps the first step to the fall. Yet in that moment, Belekōrōz would not forget his brother's sacrifice, and would for the first time come to love him as a brother.
Thence came a frame of reference (for 'Time' was not yet established) when another would join them, and the light and glory Eru drew to him at the birthing of this new Ainu was greater than it had ever been. Both Belekōrōz and Mānawenūz shall retain that it was the highest and loveliest song of power they had heard come forth from a part of Atar's thought.
For herein lay the essence of Vāradōz, known as Varda Elentarí by the Eldar, and they were both in love.
Yet while Belekōrōz was changed, no longer searching for the Flame Imperishable, new thoughts came unto his mind- for surely, such beauty and higher loveliness was the work of the Flame itself? He came, then, to desire Vāradōz for himself when she would have inevitably grown.
'Twas not lust, for Ainur may not feel such things. 'Twas not selfish, for Belekōrōz was willing to give up part of his own might and his own fëa for her, should he wish it. And yet it was passionate and all-consuming, as was the nature of the Greatest in Might.
Mānawenūz, however, was filled with a love for her quite unlike, for he in truth desired to see her grow than only in her full splendour when she had grown to it. And yet, wiser of the brothers as was he, he knew that so long as he loved her, he could not have the trust of Belekōrōz, and neither could she.
And so, the Closest in Thought to Ilúvatar made a greater sacrifice than any may attempt in the realms of current possibility.
Mayhap the vision was of his own conjuring, or mayhap 'twas Ilúvatar's work. And yet there was a vision, beautiful and terrifying, of what could only be their future.
"Eä. Be."
Such were the words of Eru Ilúvatar, and there is only one to have heard them twice.
There was beauty in the vision, unfathomable that it roused wonder within him- but most of all, there was the song of sorrow.
War.
Only war.
And 'twas the turn of Melkor, greatest among them, that summoned it.
At that moment, Mānawenūz knew, and perceived in his mind what he thought had to be done.
He had seen that he had kindred, others that were like Belekōrōz, Vāradōz and he. In the vision, he found that he would love each of them equally save Vāradōz whom he cherished the most- some as brothers and sisters, some as children.
And above all, he had seen his so-called destiny to marry the Star-Queen, to be the spouse of Eru's new and in his eyes most beautiful child.
And his brother would be furious.
Such pain he could not wreak upon her, upon Belekōrōz and all his new kindred. If his brother's wrath were kindled, all would know ruin.
It is said he pondered an eternity, wrapped in deep thought.
"'Tis Atar's will that there be good and evil, for good may not be defined for absence of evil. From the conflict of Order and Chaos shall rise Eä- for I am order, and my brother is chaos.
Yet what if it were not so? What if I blessed Belekōrōz with order and took upon myself his chaos? Surely, then, I would be the lesser threat, and the evil more easily dealt with."
And such was the folly of Mānawenūz, for he cared not a whit for himself. Surely, he thought, if he were to sacrifice the prospect of marrying Vāradōz to attain darkness, Belekōrōz would marry her in his stead and provide her a happier life than he ever could?
Surely, by his sacrifice, Belekōrōz would understand the folly of darkness, and come to oppose him in all his splendour?
What was pain and loss to him, when he could spare others from such?
It was decided then- perhaps there was never any doubt. Vāradōz was not yet coalesced into a full whole. He had divined that Ilúvatar would banish Belekōrōz from his side, for his wonder at the birth of the fëa was too great and his gaze of terrible power too disconcerting for the newborn.
As ever, he was correct. Ever are the Dark One and others in his service true to logic and cold rationality, and that is what renders them most terrible.
And so, as Belekōrōz embarked upon yet another morose wandering, that he was ambushed by Mānawenūz.
The currents of the infinite rose to silence the harmonic that he sang, and his song of power was as naught before the will of Mānawenūz. And in an imperious voice, the Dark Lord commanded-
"KNEEL."
Melkor knelt.
In truth, he had little of choice. Never since the dawn of the beginning had he expected his brother to strike at him so, for Mānawenūz loved him and all that was theirs deeply.
And so, all thought of opposition was shattered to the core, and his fëa was split apart by his brother, who had the knowledge of such as he had watched Belekōrōz do it to himself before.
In that moment, the eldest cried for Ilúvatar, and there was no answer. In later time and with wiser mind, he would understand that it had been to save him.
Mānawenūz had made his choice, with the foreknowledge that along either course he may have taken, he had his Father's blessing.
All the malice, passion and darkness was drained from Melkor's fëa and subsumed into Mānawenūz' own. All that gave him chance to be turned from what is known as 'good' was taken, and he received an inflow from Mānawenūz' own fëa, which was of his selflessness.
His brother had taken all that was to become evil in him unto himself, and had bestowed upon him all that was to become good.
To such a blessing, there can be no recompense- and yet it was a heinous act that brought it forth, to alter the fëa of another against their initial will.
Such is the duality that embodies Cerihtando the doom-reaper and all the acts he wrought upon Arda.
In casting his brother down prostrate before his own might, Mānawenūz had taught him the lesson of humility, but at a terrible cost to himself.
Perhaps, had he retained the darkness and new thought that had filled his brother since existence, Cerihtando may have been redeemed. 'Twas not to be, for he had another plot in place.
Thence began the grandest display of power shown without Arda save that of Ilúvatar himself. No being may alter the mind of another save themself- and so did Mānawenūz alter his own.
Belekōrōz he had given a chance without guarantee, one which Belekōrōz took and for which we are blessed. Yet the Doom-reaper's greatest crime was done unto himself.
He willed himself to never truly feel until the end of time. He willed away all his thought of feeling, all his joy. His fury, his fears, his attachment. He was become a phantom of certainty.
Cold, ruthless, absolute certainty.
Perhaps such is why Manwë Cerihtando and all that follow him are by nature deterministic. They see all their acts as locked in time for they perceive only cold logic, what must be done. They do not know of what may, or what might.
The rest, as they say, is history.
The music of the Ainur, the First Age. The Marriage of Melkor to Varda, who is Elder Queen and Vice-regent of Ilúvatar. The War for Beleriand, the Dark Lord's chaining behind the Doors of Night- and the rise of Gandalf the Corruptor.
It suffices to say that ere the beginning, Mānawenūz thought he and his the lesser threat, the more easily dealt with.
A lie. For all that he has never had and can never have as much power as his brother Melkor, it is Melkor himself who is doomed to immeasurable sorrow, for he wishes he had never fallen.
The terror he would then have unleashed would have been pure ruin, pure chaos- what can be easily called and dismissed as pure 'evil'.
The existence which he inhabits as spouse of the Elder Queen is worse, for he and all others are brought to question their thought and existence.
Perhaps the Doom-reaper never truly fell. Perhaps it was a choice of necessity, so that all else may transcend. One can never know. All that is known is that his terror was the greatest that was and could be unleashed upon Arda.
And he shall return, in the End.
Author's Note: The prompt for this was one word, 'Propagandalf'.
Naturally, it was my choice to twist it into a full AU in which Manwe was Dark Lord and not Melkor. I might write a Hobbit Story, soon, featuring Melian for no good reason.