Chapter Eleven
By the time the brothers headed back to Mandos, both munching happily on gingersnaps, Olórin felt much better. He hadn't realized just how much those rumors had scared him until after he had spoken to Nienna. She was right, he knew. Sooner or later someone was going to find out who was spreading these horrible rumors, and the Valar would stop them. And if Mairon had learned one thing from his horrible experiences under Morgoth, it was to endure. And endure he would.
It was rare for a Maia who didn't serve Námo or Vairë to be in Mandos, though not forbidden. And since it was Olórin with Mairon, no one even looked twice at the brothers. They all understood why Olórin wanted to stay close to his little brother.
"Mairon!" A clear voice broke into their quiet conversation on the trivial subject of their favorite cookies, and the brothers turned to find Failien walking towards them.
"Hello Failien," Mairon said cheerfully. "Would you like a gingersnap?"
"Thank you," Failien replied, taking the proffered treat. "I wanted to tell you that Lord Námo asked me to visit Maedhros this morning."
"Oh?" Mairon asked. "How did that go?"
"Surprisingly well," Failien answered. "You've really gotten him to think. He asked me what I'd lost." Olórin looked baffled at that, so Mairon explained.
"He somehow got the idea that because we didn't come aid them at the beginning, we had no idea what war against Morgoth was like," he said, rolling his eyes.
"That's ridiculous," Olórin snorted.
"That's what I told him," Mairon replied. "And now it looks like he's finally entertaining the idea."
"He is," Failien confirmed. "Good job. And good job for getting him to open up about that to begin with." Mairon shrugged.
"That he told me he felt that way was mere coincidence," he said. "I was excluded from the blanket ignorance the Noldor believed of those in the West because I was at least in Middle-earth during the First Age." He looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Perhaps I shall go visit him," he mused.
"Two sessions in one day?" Olórin asked. Mairon shook his head.
"Not in an official capacity," he answered. "Just…as a friend."
"I think that would be very good for him," Failien said.
"Well then, I will leave you to it," Olórin replied. "I will see you tomorrow night."
"Bye, Olórin," Mairon replied. "Thank you for letting me know, Failien."
"You're very welcome," she answered, as she turned and continued on her way to whatever she had been heading before she spotted Mairon.
Mairon hummed absently as he wended his way towards Maedhros's cell. He idly wondered if his desire to visit with Maedhros was a continuation of his old habit to work on the projects his lord set for him even during his free time, since Námo had asked him to befriend Maedhros. But he did want to visit Maedhros. He supposed he would need to ask Olórin if that made a difference.
The cell door clicked open for him as it always did, and he knocked and stuck his head in.
"Mairon!" Maedhros said in surprise. "I thought you were with your brother. That's what Failien said, anyway. She was here this morning."
"I know, and I was," Mairon replied. "But Olórin had to go attend Lord Manwë, so I am back. I am not here in an official capacity…just as a friend." The smile Maedhros gave at that was delighted, and Mairon knew he had made a good choice.
"Well, I am glad to see you," he said. "It does get slightly boring with only your thoughts as company." Mairon laughed.
"And here I've been told that you've told almost everyone that you want to be left alone!" he replied, keeping his tone light. Maedhros shrugged.
"Well, I can't deny that," he answered. "But…I wasn't really willing to listen to them. And I felt like I was only a project to solve to them, not a person." Mairon looked shocked.
"I can't imagine Failien seeing you only as a problem to solve," he commented. Maedhros shook his head.
"No, I can't say that she did," he said. "There were others in the beginning, though. And I wasn't really willing to listen to Failien, either…not until this morning. We had a good talk today."
"Oh?" Mairon replied. "What did you talk about?" He already knew, of course, but he wanted to hear Maedhros's side of it.
"Well…I had been thinking about what you said, last time you visited," Maedhros said. "So I asked her what she had lost. It opened my eyes, quite a bit. I realized we—as Elves— never really knew what the Ainur had gone through before you found us. I wonder if we never asked, or if we were discouraged when we did."
"I don't know," Mairon admitted. "You'd probably have to ask a Vala to get an answer to that question."
"I just might," Maedhros mused. "I think it would be better if we started asking more Valar—and Maiar—about themselves. So in that vein, you still haven't told me your story." Mairon snorted.
"Smooth," he commented. Then he sighed and leaned back.
"Where to start…" he wondered. "Well, Morgoth did not blame me for your escape, something I was rather grateful for. Life went on in what had become a depressingly normal manner. I was able to capture Tol Sirion eventually, and being away from Morgoth was very nice, even if I didn't like leaving Angband. Angband had been solely my fortress to begin with, and I was rather fond of it—though it lost much of its appeal once Morgoth returned from Valinor! So I was rather relieved when I was able to have a fortress of my own again."
"But you didn't keep it," Maedhros said quietly. Mairon winced.
"No," he replied. "And Morgoth blamed me for the loss of the Silmaril." Now it was Maedhros's turn to wince.
"That can't have ended well," he said. Mairon was suddenly selfishly glad that Maedhros understood just what that meant without needing explanation.
"I now have more scars than you had," the Maia said softly. Maedhros winced once more. He had once had quite a lot of scars.
"Afterwards, he threw me out of Angband," Mairon continued. "Oddly enough, here the story takes a rather unexpected turn. I was found by Beren and Lúthien." Maedhros sat up straighter in surprise.
"That is rather unexpected," he said.
"Even more unexpected—they took care of me," Mairon said. "I was in rather bad shape, as you could imagine. Beren was unhappy in the beginning; he would have gladly left me where I was. But Lúthien took compassion on me, and they helped me heal. Beren came around eventually, and we became friends, odd as that was." Mairon smiled wistfully.
"They made me promise that if I ever had a chance for forgiveness, I would take it. So when the war ended, I surrendered to Eönwë. After the Valar learned what Morgoth had done to me, they gave me a second chance. I spent about a month with Nienna, though technically I was the ward of both her, and Námo and Irmo. I didn't see Irmo much, he was rather busy with all those who returned from the War of Wrath damaged. Eventually, I decided I wanted to help those who had been hurt, and Mandos seemed the only place I could do so. And I had grown rather close to Námo…so I asked if I could serve him." Mairon shrugged.
"So that's how I ended up here," he finished simply. Maedhros was quiet for a while, trying to digest it all.
"I'm glad you're safe," he finally said quietly. "You probably kept me sane, those years on Thangorodrim. It was…" He couldn't seem to finish that sentence.
"Do they really understand it?" he finally asked quietly. Mairon smiled sadly.
"Some do," he replied. "You should talk to Istamírë. But not tonight. You're obviously tired."
"I am," Maedhros admitted. "That is something I was not expecting about being dead…"
"You're trying to heal," Mairon pointed out. "Everyone here is. Rest helps that, as more energy is given to the need to recover. If you don't believe me, I can bring one of Estë's Maiar to give you a long discourse on it." Maedhros laughed.
"I believe you!" he answered. "And so I will rest, before you decide to come up with some creative way to make me." Mairon laughed.
"Wise decision," he said. "Rest well, Maedhros."
After leaving Maedhros's cell, Mairon found himself somewhat at loose odds. He wasn't tired yet, and Námo and Vairë would still be busy. He bit his lip, then hesitantly reached out and touched Qunetalë's thoughts, asking if he could come see her. She agreed with the cheerfulness Mairon was beginning to realize was an integral part of her, and he thought himself to Vairë's workshop.
"Hello, Mairon!" Qunetalë said as he appeared. "Back to learn more about embroidery?" Mairon laughed.
"No, I'm afraid I have no talents in that area," he said. "Still, what you do is fascinating."
"Well, pull up a pillow," Qunetalë replied. "Someday I am going to find you a fabric craft you like, though!" Mairon laughed.
"You don't happen to do anything with metal, do you?" Mairon asked, half jesting.
"Actually, yes," Qunetalë answered. "I embroider with metal wire sometimes. There's some over there." She pointed to a small container that Mairon instantly investigated, finding wire of all different metal types: mithril, gold, silver, copper…
"Would anyone mind…" Mairon began.
"Not at all," Qunetalë replied. "It's there for anyone to use."
Mairon quickly gathered what he wanted of strands of mithril and gold, and moved back to his cushion by Qunetalë. He began to weave them together in an intricate design.
"Well, that's something, but without fabric I don't think it counts!" Qunetalë said. "Maybe cross-stitch…The holes are already in the fabric." Mairon looked amused.
"That might be helpful," he said. "I wouldn't have to worry about the size of my stitches then!" Qunetalë laughed.
"Very true!" she agreed. "Though you really weren't that bad. You know you're a perfectionist?"
"I had good reason to be," Mairon replied, his mood deflating as sadness laced his tone. Qunetalë bit her lip.
"Sorry," she apologized quietly.
"It's not your fault," Mairon answered, managing a true smile. "I'm just a little too sensitive right now because—well, it doesn't matter."
"The rumors?" Qunetalë asked, then blushed.
"Sorry," she said again. Mairon smiled crookedly.
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that almost everyone has heard them," he said.
"Well, we do practically seek out every story that is going around among the Ainur," Qunetalë replied. "But I never believed those rumors to be true. And I don't think anyone else who serves Vairë or Námo would believe them either." Mairon looked surprised.
"They don't make sense," Qunetalë explained. "If you had been treated…in that manner, I would assume you to be much more shy of physical touch than you are. And I would expect you to be more afraid of the Valar. You do have some responses that show you were hurt, like when you're startled: you freeze until you assess whether there is a threat or not. But what I've seen doesn't add up to the rumors." Mairon slowly smiled.
"I'd never even thought of that," he said. "I suppose I was too upset about it to really think about it logically."
"Probably," Qunetalë agreed. "I doubt I could think about it rationally if those things were being said about me."
"It's just…It's horribly ironic," Mairon said. "That's about the only way he didn't hurt me." Qunetalë looked sad for a moment.
"The truth will come out in the end," she finally said. "And those that have decided they know better than the Valar will learn that they are rebelling for nothing. And in the end, that's what they will have, while you will have built a life for yourself here—despite the fact they have tried to stop you."
"Thank you," Mairon said, raising his head. "I have already been through far worse than they could ever hope to throw my way. I have survived against all odds—I will not lose now." Qunetalë's breath caught at the determination in his eyes—at odds with his smile, which reminded her just how powerful this Maia was. This glimpse, however, was brief, as it was soon erased by a sunny grin.
"Hold out your wrist," he said, and slipped around it a beautiful, intricate bracelet made of twisted and woven mithril and gold wires that he had been working on while they talked.
"Mairon, it's beautiful!" Qunetalë exclaimed. "Thank you!"
"You're welcome," Mairon replied. "It's very nice to be able to make beautiful things again—and even better to have friends to give them to."
Qunetalë didn't respond to that verbally; she just gave him a quick hug. Vairë chose that moment to walk over.
"My lady!" Qunetalë said. "Look what Mairon made for me!"
"It's beautiful," Vairë agreed with a smile. "Are the two of you ready to go?"
"Yes," Qunetalë answered, putting her embroidery away. Vairë caught her in a brief embrace.
"I will see you tomorrow, my dear," she said.
"Tomorrow," Qunetalë agreed with a smile. "Mairon, feel free to come visit whenever you have free time."
"I will," Mairon replied, and the other Maia left. Vairë held out her hand to him, and he took it.
"Did you have a good day?" Vairë asked as they began to walk towards her and Námo's rooms.
"Yes," Mairon replied, and began to tell her about it, missing the smiles that the other Maiar they passed gave on seeing them. Once back in Námo and Vairë's rooms, Vairë disappeared to change for bed, and Mairon found his own nightclothes. He'd practically moved in, he thought with amusement. Once changed, he clambered into the bed lying down in the center. It had been a good day, Mairon thought. He had more now than he would have ever dreamed of a year ago. With that thought of gratitude, he let his eyes slip shut, and was asleep by the time Námo arrived, a soft smile on his face.
A big thank you to Crackers, who is still beta-ing this story despite being so busy.
Please review!