Chapter Four
"I'm sorry, Mairon," Eönwë said awkwardly. The three Maiar were sitting on a low half wall that separated several sections in the gardens of Námo and Vairë's mansion in Valmar.
"It's not your fault," Mairon sighed. With neither Eönwë and Olórin attending their lord at the moment, Námo had sent Mairon off to spend time with them. They had met at Manwë and Varda's mansion first, but Ilmarë had quite obviously objected to Mairon's presence, so they had changed location.
"It's not yours, either," Eönwë retorted.
"Actually, it is," Mairon replied dryly.
"You have been forgiven by the Valar, what more does she want?" Olórin muttered.
"It's not just that, it's Almaren," Mairon explained.
"What about it?" Olórin asked.
"Ilmarë was devastated when Morgoth destroyed the Lamps," Mairon said. "And she hated the one responsible."
"Which was Morgoth," Olórin said bluntly.
"I gave him all the information he needed to do so, however unknowingly," Mairon said softly. Eönwë sighed.
"That makes sense," he said in a low voice. "She has never really healed from that, and the death of the Trees only served to heighten her loss."
"Even I mourned the Trees," Mairon said. "Though for most of us who escaped the Valar after the Battle of the Powers, it was more mourning that we had to deal with Morgoth again. Those Ages he was a prisoner here were almost pleasant."
"Almost?" Olórin asked. Mairon shrugged.
"No one really trusted each other—we couldn't," he explained. "It was lonely. I missed you, and was convinced you all hated me. I tried not to think about it much."
"I never hated you, Mairon," Olórin said softly. "That first instant when I figured out you were in Morgoth's employ, I was furious...but then you were gone. I went through my days with an empty hole where you had been...It finally got so bad I had to spend considerable time with Nienna." Mairon hugged him tightly.
"I'm so sorry," he said, somewhat indistinctly. "I never meant to hurt you like that."
"I know," Olórin said, gently stroking Mairon's hair. "And honestly, as soon as I had you back, none of that mattered, for no matter what you choose, no matter what you have chosen, you are still my little brother."
"I was stunned when I found out," Eönwë said. "I didn't really get angry until the War. And then when I saw you...it all just faded. I wanted you to come back."
"Thank you, both of you," Mairon said sincerely. "I would not be here if it weren't for you. It seems Beren was right." Mairon snorted. "I'm sure wherever he is, he's laughing and saying 'I told you so' right now." Eönwë and Olórin both laughed.
"Do you miss the Secondborn?" Eönwë asked. Mairon nodded.
"It will be nice to be able to work with them again, even if it is only in Mandos," Mairon said. "But there's something more to that question, isn't there?" he asked shrewdly. Eönwë nodded.
"Manwë has asked me to think about working among those who fought in the War, teaching them the skills they will need to create successful lives for themselves."
"You should do it," Mairon said seriously. "They really are fascinating. More so than the Elves, in some ways."
"I just don't want to be gone all the time," Eönwë confessed. "I just got back."
"The mortals like to take days off, you know," Mairon pointed out. "And while I recommend you stay for some of them, so you can see more of their culture, they would completely understand if you came back here at intervals."
"That's a good idea," Eönwë mused. "I think I will do that."
"Should we go speak to Manwë then?" Mairon asked, gracefully rising to his feet before pausing at the other two's panicked looks. "What?" he asked.
"We were...actually supposed to keep you occupied and away from Ilmarin," Eönwë confessed sheepishly.
"Why?" Mairon asked, bewildered. Olórin sighed.
"Ingwë found out about your new status," he said, deliberately staying calm.
"So..." Mairon trailed off.
"So he's at Ilmarin complaining at the moment," Eönwë said. "Not that it will change anything. You are Námo's now, and even Lord Manwë would need his approval to do anything with you." Mairon calmed visibly at Eönwë's words, exhaling explosively.
"Well, that's going to be messy. I wonder how he found—of course, Finrod."
"Finrod?" Olórin asked. Mairon nodded.
"I met him in Mandos," he explained. "He forgave me...and he was released. He must have mentioned me, and it got back to Ingwë."
"Are you upset?" Eönwë asked. Mairon shrugged.
"No, not really. It doesn't really change anything for me. I already couldn't go among the Eldar. I highly doubt Ingwë would act like Fëanor did with the whole rebellion thing, so all his complaint will end up as are some headaches for Lord Manwë."
"Very true," Olórin said. "So we'll just wait for it to blow over." He deftly changed the subject. "What do you know about the Secondborn?" Mairon brightened slightly and began to talk, leaving all thoughts of Ingwë behind.
Manwë sighed internally and wondered, not for the first time, why all of Ilúvatar's creations were so stubborn. He fully realized that he and the other Valar fell into that category, but staring into the mulish face of the High King of the Elves, he found himself thinking it would have been easier for all involved if Ilúvatar had made His children a bit less obstinate.
"Ingwë, I truly understand your concerns," he said calmly. "But even if he wished to, Mairon could not cause the damage Melkor did."
"I fail to see why not," Ingwë replied. "Also, though I do not wish to question your judgement, I fail to see why you are bothering with him. You could have thrown him to the Void, or if you found that too harsh, you could have locked him in Mandos indefinitely." Manwë sighed mentally, turning to the only other Elf in the room, who looked faintly uncomfortable.
"What do you think, Arafinwë?" Manwë asked.
"If you had asked me not long ago, I would have agreed with my uncle," he said. "But Finrod...Finrod has forgiven him. I feel like I can do no less. But I am King of the Noldor, and I do wish to make certain nothing like the Darkening will ever happen again."
"I do not wish to see something like the Darkening ever occur again either," Manwë agreed. "And my decision about Mairon will not cause it to."
"You will have to pardon me, my lord, but I do not see why you believe that," Ingwë said.
"Because he is scarcely more than a child, and his service to Melkor was not entirely voluntary," Manwë replied. "You have met Vána's twins. He is scarcely older. He was a child when Melkor first began to attempt to acquire him. Threats against those he loved kept him silent, and alone, no Maia, no matter how loyal or powerful, could hold up forever."
"So how do we know he will not continue on that path now?" Ingwë asked.
"Because he wants the second chance he has been given," Manwë said.
"How do we know that he isn't lying like Melkor was?" Ingwë further demanded. Manwë sighed.
"Because we examined his memories, and nearly destroyed him in the process," he answered quietly. "Melkor brutally mistreated him; and he was forced to relive it all at our hands. It very nearly drove him insane. But it did verify one thing for us: that his motives are sincere. He wants a second chance, and truthfully, after what he has gone through, he deserves it. Furthermore, he has done less worthy of condemnation than did Melkor. We could not punish him more strictly and call ourselves just."
"That is enough for me," Arafinwë said simply. "Will you pass my son's greetings on to Mairon?"
"I will," Manwë said with a nod.
"Then with your permission I will return to the city," Arafinwë said, "as my son's return is still new enough to bring Eärwen and me wonder and delight. If I am not further needed here, I will return to them."
"Go gladly, and relay to them our greetings and congratulations," Manwë replied.
"Thank you, my lord, and I shall," Arafinwë replied, and withdrew. Ingwë watched him go with a troubled expression.
"You know you may speak whatever is on your mind, Ingwë," Manwë said gently. Ingwë sighed.
"When the War ended, all I wanted was peace for my people," Ingwë said. "Despite what you have said, all I can see in Mairon is a very large risk of loosing all we have so painfully gained."
"But as for the Ainur, we see it as a chance to regain what we had painfully lost so long ago," Manwë replied. "Perhaps when he is stronger, you will be able to meet him, and then you will understand."
"I do trust you, my lord," Ingwë said.
"I know, and I thank you for it," Manwë replied. "Go now, and reacquaint yourself with those who are beginning to be returned to you." Ingwë bowed, and withdrew. Manwë stared out a window for a time, lost in thought, before reaching out and touching the thoughts of a Maia. Moments later, Eönwë, Olórin, and Mairon stood before him.
"Is Ingwë gone?" Mairon asked, surprising Manwë, who looked at Eönwë and Olórin and received rather sheepish looks in return.
"How did you learn about that?" Manwë asked. Mairon shrugged.
"We were talking about Eönwë teaching the Secondborn, and when I mentioned coming to talk to you, they panicked. It was rather amusing, actually. Of course, they then had to tell me why we couldn't return to Ilmarin."
"I see," Manwë said. "Yes, Ingwë is gone, as is Arafinwë. Finrod sends his greetings." Mairon brightened.
"Oh, that was kind of him. I'd return them, but I have no idea how."
"You could just go visit him," Eönwë suggested. Mairon gave him a sardonic look.
"Oh yes, that's a great idea," he said sarcastically. "I can see it now: mass panic. Lovely."
"I didn't mean in front of everyone," Eönwë protested.
"I'll just write him a note," Mairon said. "You can take it to him and speak with him about the Secondborn. He knows more about them than I do."
"So have you decided about teaching the Edain?" Manwë asked his herald. Eönwë nodded.
"I will do so, though I would like some time in which I can come back occasionally," he explained.
"That will be perfectly acceptable," Manwë replied. "And you may have the rest of the time before you leave for your leisure."
"Which he'll use to babysit me, I'm sure," Mairon laughed. Eönwë pounced on him.
"Ow! Eönwë! Get off!" Mairon protested. Eönwë did so, but only after thoroughly messing up the younger Maia's hair. Darkly glaring at him, Mairon began to place it back in order.
"And I won't spend all of it with you," Eönwë objected. "Part of it I'll spend with Ilmarë."
Eönwë looked guilty as soon as he said that, and Mairon almost winced, as that sentence brought up the unspoken fact that at one point, Ilmarë would have been inseparable from the other three. Now her lingering anger at Mairon left her brother dividing his time.
"Well, I suggest you go do something fun at any rate. Off with you now," Manwë said to lighten the tension. It worked, and the three began to make plans for their increased combined time, casually exiting Ilmarin as they did so. Manwë watched them go, smiling to see their heads, golden, blond, and black all together again. Only Ilmarë's deep silver was missing, he thought. Still, healing had begun. All that was needed now was time. And of that, they had plenty.
"It won't work. Not with Eönwë always there," a Maia protested.
"Eönwë is leaving," another spoke up knowledgeably. "Manwë has asked him to teach the Edain."
"So there's one obstacle out of our way," still another Maia said.
"I'm still not sure I see the point in all this," the first Maia replied. "Yes, I'm as unhappy as all of you that he's back. But what good will harassing him do?"
"Provoke him to retaliation," answered the third Maia, who seemed to be in charge. "When he does so, the Valar will not be able to ignore it, or trust him further. We can get him banished or worse, and we won't have to deal with him further."
Murmurs of agreement met that statement, as further plans were laid—plans that would not be brought to the knowledge of the Valar.
And things are starting to move...please review!