Are you all fainting in shock? ;)
This chapter is only possible due to my irreplaceable beta, Crackers. I sent this chapter to her while she was in the middle of finals and she still got it back to me within a week. Three cheers for the lovely Crackers!
Chapter Thirteen
Lady Vairë was a genius, Mairon thought as he studied his new robes in the mirror. They were perfect.
"Are you not going to do your hair, Mairon?" Námo asked, dressed in his own finery. Vairë had kicked him out of their quarters, so her own outfit for the festival would be a surprise. They were at their mansion in Valmar, so Mairon was in his own quarters, as he hadn't practically moved into the Vala and Valië's rooms like he had in Mandos.
"Melyanna badgered me into letting her do it," he said with a sigh. Námo raised an eyebrow.
"And is that a horrible doom?" the Vala asked.
"It will involve flowers," Mairon said darkly. "Melyanna was once one of Vána's people, and they take any excuse to wear flowers." Námo laughed.
"Many will be wearing flowers in their hair today, Mairon," he said. "And I'm sure Melian will make sure whatever she does will be tasteful, as well as beautiful. You'll see." Mairon grumbled, but he still proceeded to think himself to Melian's home in Lórien. It wasn't that flowers were horrible, he mused, but he never wore them. And today, of all days… Appearing for the first time before all of Valinor, he wanted to be very comfortable in his appearance. Vairë had understood that. Why couldn't Melian?
Mairon watched as Melian pulled his hair back from his face, catching it in a half circle around the top of his head, and leaving it loose behind him. Then she pulled out the flowers.
"Melyanna, no flowers," Mairon protested.
"But Mairon, it's a festival. A lot of people will be wearing flowers. And I picked them specifically for you," Melian argued back. She quickly went over her choices, and the reasons behind them. Mairon sighed. Melian had spent a lot of time on this, and he didn't wish to disappoint her. Then a plan struck him. It was simple, but most of the best were…
"Alright, I'll wear them," Mairon said. "But on one condition…"
Mairon couldn't help but cling tightly to Námo's hand as they prepared to leave his and Vairë's mansion in Valmar. Námo looked down at him with a reassuring smile, and Istamírë, who was walking on Mairon's other side, wrapped an arm around him. Ordinarily, the Valar went first, accompanied by their chief Maiar, but Námo had broken with tradition and was keeping Mairon by his side. At least at the beginning. Once the first part of the festival was over, all mingled, and he could be sure that Mairon would be with Olórin and his other friends.
But before that, Mairon had to get through the first part of the festival, a solemn procession to the fields that lay beyond the Ezellohar. There Manwë would officially open the festival, and all would sing a paean of joy and thanksgiving to Eru. Then the festival would become more informal, with lots of food, singing, and games.
Mairon took a deep breath as the doors opened, and Istamírë let her arm drop. But Námo didn't let go of his hand, and they started out, slow and stately. Mairon was a bit pale, but he held his head proudly. If he still clung to Námo's hand, only the Vala could tell.
The end pattern of the processions was a circle in the fields, and so the lines of Ainur and Elves heading there did not go straight, which meant that the assembly took more time to achieve. But finally, all were in a circle, with the inner line including all fourteen of the Valar, their chief Maiar (plus Mairon), the three Elven kings, their queens, and their heirs. Manwë smiled as he looked around at those surrounding him; Súrien stood at his side, acting as his chief Maia while Eönwë was away.
"Welcome, all," Manwë began. Though he did not raise his voice, it was easily heard by everyone.
"We have seen many things on this day," Manwë continued. "Things of both tragedy and triumph. Yet we celebrate this day still, in memory of both. For while tragedy has indeed come to these shores that we intended to keep free of tears, light and life still go on. We give thanks for all the good that has come, even of the darkest nights. And we give thanks to the One who has given us all that we have and are."
Mairon approved of this speech. Short and to the point, including all that needed to be said without extra. When he finished, Manwë smiled again, and began to sing, with all joining him. The hymn was in Quenya, but it was a translation of an older song that the Ainur had sung long before the Children awoke, with the tune modified to fit the now shorter words.
When the song ended, all was silent for a long moment. Then Manwë spoke again.
"Now, let all rejoice! In song, in dance, in company! For Darkness has not conquered, and Light still reigns!"
There was a general cheer at this, then the group began to break from its well ordered formation, as family and friends began to join together. Mairon gave Námo's hand a squeeze and smiled up at his lord, then went to join Olórin, who had left those who followed Manwë and was walking towards him.
"Hello, Mairon." Olórin smiled as he came close enough to embrace his brother. Mairon hugged him back tightly.
"I like your robes," Olórin commented, taking in Mairon's burgundy outfit. They were high-necked, as was most of Mairon's clothing, and delicately embroidered around the collar and sleeves in gold and white. A black sash wrapped around his waist and trailed almost to the ground on his left side.
"Thank you," Mairon replied with a grin. "And I like yours." Olórin almost always wore grey, but these were mixed with a sky blue in a wild, chaotic pattern. A mithril circlet completed the look.
"Thank you," Olórin answered.
"What, no comments on how I look?" a voice said behind them. Mairon spun sharply.
"Eönwë!"
The older Maia laughed as he caught Mairon in an embrace. He was wearing formal robes of sky blue and gold.
"It's good to see you too," he said.
"I didn't know you were coming!" Mairon said.
"And miss this?" Eönwë retorted. "Not a chance. You were right, though: Mortals are fascinating." Mairon nodded.
"They really are," he said. "Very different from us and the Eldar…and strangely similar at the same time."
"The enthusiasm they take towards the new is what surprised me the most, I think," Eönwë commented. "They are truly excited to make a new life for themselves in Andor, and yet they will have to start over once more, something they have already done many times. I think if I were in their place, I would not want to leave where I was."
"Part of their excitement might be that they feel like they will finally be able to be settled on Andor, and not have to pack everything they can up in a night and leave," Mairon pointed out. "But they do tend to be more excited towards life, simply because they do not know how much time they will have. I miss that about them, sometimes."
"Maybe you could come with me some time," Eönwë proposed. "You would know much more than me when it comes to building and architecture." Mairon gave Eönwë a sardonic look.
"They would recognize me, Eönwë," he pointed out. "That would do wonders for their trust in the Valar: 'oh look, Morgoth's former lieutenant is just fine, and now he's going to be your teacher!' It would not end well."
"Well, I suppose not," Eönwë admitted. "Though you wouldn't necessarily have to tell them who you were…" Mairon shook his head.
"I'm known as the deceiver in Middle-earth. I'm not going to trick them into trusting me when if they knew who I was, they wouldn't."
"I suppose you're right," Eönwë said with a sigh. "But maybe in a few generations when no one remembers you, we can go." Mairon gave a half-smile.
"We'll see," he replied. Eönwë gave him another hug.
"Well, I have a few more hello's to make, but come find me again later, alright?" Mairon gave a true smile.
"I will," he promised, hugging Eönwë back. "I'm glad you're home."
"Me too," Eönwë said, before heading off into the crowd. Mairon and Olórin wandered over to an empty end of a table and sat down on the long benches surrounding it.
"We're not telling Eönwë about the rumors," he said softly to Olórin, who frowned.
"But-" he started, not in protest, but in surprise.
"It would only distress him. It's not like he can do anything about them, and he's not going to be here long," Mairon cut him off. Olórin nodded.
"Agreed," he said. Then his eyes grew distant for a moment.
"Lord Manwë agrees with you, as well," he finally said. "Eönwë won't learn of it unless someone repeats it to him." Mairon snorted.
"I doubt whoever is behind this is that stupid."
"It could be someone else who tells him, not necessarily the person to blame," Olórin pointed out.
"I still don't think there are many who would be quite that stupid," Mairon maintained.
"It's still possible," Olórin said. Mairon glowered at him. "But you are right, it is improbable."
He glanced around at the mingling crowd, and smiled when he spotted a trio of Elves heading their way.
"Well Mairon," he said. "I do believe you have some friends coming to speak with you, so I will go make my own hello's while you are busy."
"Alright," Mairon said in slight distraction, looking around to see who Olórin had spotted as the older Maia left. Then he saw them as well, and gave a brilliant smile, standing up to greet them.
"Finrod!"
"Hello, Mairon," Finrod laughed, enfolding the Maia into a embrace. "It is good to see you again."
"You as well," Mairon replied. "How are you liking life?" Finrod chuckled.
"It was rather odd at first, but things have mostly settled into a routine now. I am not sure, however, if that was due to the transition between death and life, or from Middle-earth back to Aman. My parents, though, are thrilled." He turned slightly, bringing them into the conversation.
"Mairon, I know you've met my father, but have you met my mother?" he asked.
"No, I have not," Mairon responded, dipping his head in greeting to the elleth. "Lady Eärwen, it is a pleasure."
"Likewise, Mairon," the silver-haired elleth replied with a smile. "I understand that you were instrumental in me getting my son back so soon."
"Nay, Lady, I am afraid I cannot claim so much," Mairon said with a small laugh. "I am afraid I mostly sat there. The credit goes to your son, and if any goes to anyone else, it would be Beren and Lúthien."
"You did more than you know, Mairon," Finrod said quietly. "Beren and Lúthien merely spoke to me of you and your friendship." Arafinwë looked interested at that.
"I was unaware you were friends with those two," he commented.
"Yes," Mairon replied. "It was after then had returned from Mandos. I was…" he paused for a moment, something all three Elves caught. Then the Maia forced a slightly brittle smile and continued.
"I was…not in good shape after the whole thing. They found me, and took care of me." His smile relaxed and grew truer.
"We became friends, and it was because of them I came back after the end of the War. Because it was the only way I could even in some part repay them."
Arafinwë nodded, remembering Eönwë's comments after the War about Mairon feeling he owed his repentance to some in his past.
"That explains why you stayed," he commented. "I'd wondered, after the War. You were so clearly frightened, yet you never ran. I often wondered why."
"I was terrified," Mairon said, a haunted expression filling his eyes. "I was so certain they were just going to throw me to the Void. I'd never imagined-" He broke off, and forced himself to smile again.
"But they didn't, and my life here is good. Not perfect, but then, life rarely is. I think I am most grateful to be reunited with Olórin. I have missed him long and long."
"It is hard, being parted from your siblings," Finrod said with a sympathetic smile. "I certainly miss mine…Though there is still hope that Galadriel will sail someday, and Angrod will be reborn…I do not know if Aegnor will ever choose to leave Mandos, though." Eärwen looked down at that, and Arafinwë wrapped his arm around her.
"He may," Mairon said quietly. "Though I doubt his love for Andreth will ever truly fade."
"Do you think we'll ever see them again?" Finrod asked in a wistful voice, staring west.
"I can't imagine not," Mairon said firmly. "While it is true that the two races could not forever coexist in happiness here in Arda Marred, for the swift fading of the mortal lands are a grief to the Eldar, and the Atani would find the unchanging life here a torment, I cannot believe that after the end Eru would not devise a way for all those who have come to love each other to be together." Finrod's smile grew gentle.
"Yes," he said softly. "You speak wisdom. Someday all will be reunited." He grew more focused, and looked back to Mairon.
"Though I must admit, I envy Eönwë somewhat! I have heard that the Eldar will be permitted to sail to Andor when it is further established. I hope I get the chance."
"Would you come back if you did?" Mairon asked with a laugh. "I think your parents are enjoying having you with them again."
"Of course I would," Finrod said with a smile. "I am enjoying being back as well. Though there are many things about Middle-earth I miss."
"Me as well," Mairon admitted. "But I would rather be here than there." Finrod nodded his agreement. Then he looked at the sun to tell the time, and sighed.
"Well, I am afraid we must be off," he said. "But it was good to see you again. And if you see Eönwë before I do, will you give him our greetings?"
"Of course," Mairon agreed cheerfully, and the four parted.
Looking around, Mairon scanned the crowd for Olórin or Eönwë or any of his other friends. There wasn't anyone close, but over around a noisy set of tables laden with various games, he spotted someone he had hoped to spend some time with today…
Aulë turned slightly as Mairon climbed onto the bench next to him.
"Hello," Mairon said simply, smiling at the Vala. Aulë's answering smile was brilliant.
"Hello, Mairon," the Vala said, pulling the Maia up and over to settle him on his lap. "Are you enjoying the festival?" Mairon nodded enthusiastically, leaning back into the Vala's embrace. Both ignored the sidelong looks of disbelief they were getting, and not just from the Elves.
"Who did your hair?" Aulë asked, noting the sweet fragrance of the blossoms.
"Melyanna," Mairon responded with a small amount of exasperation. "Flowers," he muttered in an undertone. Aulë chuckled.
"Don't let my wife or her sister hear you," he advised. Mairon glanced up with a grin.
"I'm not that foolish," he responded. "And I like flowers. Just…not in my hair. She bullied me into it." Aulë snorted at that mental image.
"It's alright though," Mairon continued. "Because I made her promise to do something as well."
"Oh?" Aulë asked. "And what was that?"
"You'll see," Mairon responded smugly. Aulë chuckled again.
"So what are you playing?" Mairon asked, changing the subject.
"It's a new game," Aulë explained. "Tulcandil here just made it up." He indicated an ellon sitting across the table and a few seats down, who inclined his head in acknowledgement.
"And I…" Aulë continued. "Am losing. Badly."
"Oh," Mairon said. Then he looked at Tulcandil with an innocent expression. "How do you play?"
Tulcandil was an amiable ellon, and good at explaining the rules of his game. Mairon quickly caught on, and began pointing out moves to Aulë until the Vala good-naturedly gave his hand to the Maia. The game continued, with more and more players dropping out until it was a two way battle between Tulcandil and Mairon.
Mairon was grinning, his eyes sparkling as he fought to win, keeping up his end of the banter that had started between the two final contestants with ease. When he finally won, Tulcandil groaned in mock despair, and Mairon laughed.
"That last move was pure luck," he commented. Tulcandil laughed as well.
"That's what keeps the game fun," he said with a grin, taking back the cards and shuffling them. He turned to the rest of the table. "And now that we've had a demonstration of how the game is supposed to be played, anyone else want to go again?"
Mairon excused himself as another group formed, giving Aulë a hug before sliding out of his lap. The Vala had decided to give the game another try to see if he did any better the second time.
Glancing around, Mairon spotted Eönwë talking in a group that included Ilmarë and some others who served Manwë and Varda. He headed that way, intent on passing on Finrod and his parents' greetings as they had asked him to.
He reached the circle of Maiar and stepped up to Eönwë's side. Ilmarë, seeing him, gave him a cold glare as all conversation abruptly died. Mairon paled and swallowed nervously, shrinking into Eönwë's side.
"Hello, Mairon," Eönwë said, acting as if he couldn't tell anything had happened. "How are you enjoying Estayávë?" Mairon looked up and gave him a tentative smile.
"Very much, so far," he said softly. "Finrod and his parents wanted me to give you their greetings. Finrod says he wishes he could come with you."
"Ah, that's very nice of them," Eönwë replied. "And I will have to go speak with them at some point. Finrod will be anxious to hear all about it, I'm sure." Mairon calmed slightly at the normality, and stood a bit straighter.
"He certainly will," he said in a stronger voice.
"Why don't we go grab a game, Mairon?" Eönwë suggested, knowing it would be a good idea to get his young friend out of his sister's line of sight. Mairon agreed, and they wandered off, looking for one not currently in use.
"Oh, look, one of those realistic strategy games is open." Eönwë spotted it and grabbed Mairon's hand, dragging the smaller Maia along.
"Just like old times?" Mairon quipped with a saucy grin as they claimed it and began laying out the pieces. Eönwë snorted, though he was secretly glad Mairon was doing well enough to joke about it.
"Well, if you want to play that way, you ought to be the defending player…" he commented, matching Mairon's grin. The younger Maia smirked, and did just that. They made short work of setting up the game, and quickly a second (much more amiable) War of Wrath was taking place.
However, that proved detrimental to Eönwë, for when he tried a maneuver that had worked very well during the original conflict, he found that Mairon blocked it quickly and efficiently.
"Oh come on," Eönwë protested. "It worked last time." Mairon shot him a look.
"Eönwë, you've already used it against me. Do you really think I fall for the same thing twice?" Eönwë just grumbled.
"Besides, I didn't fall for it the first time either," Mairon added. Eönwë barely stopped his jaw from dropping.
"Mairon! Are you saying…" He trailed off for a minute. "You sabotaged Melkor's side in the War?"
"I never said that," Mairon said innocently, planning out his next move.
"You insinuated it," Eönwë muttered.
"I insinuate a lot of things," Mairon retorted.
"Well I don't," Eönwë stated. "Did you?"
"Did I what?" Mairon asked. Eönwë gave him a level look, and didn't answer. Mairon sighed theatrically.
"Oh come on, Eönwë. You remember the time when close to a third of Morgoth's remaining forces stumbled into that little trap of yours?" At Eönwë's nod, he continued.
"I'm really not that stupid, my friend."
"So you…" Eönwë trailed off.
"It's an excellent example of why you don't make your chief strategist hate you," Mairon murmured. "That was the boldest move I took. I blamed it on the orc chieftain, naturally: that he had made a mistake and that's why it happened. And of course, he was dead, and couldn't contradict me."
"So we owe our victory to you?" Eönwë said, an oddly wistful note in his voice. Mairon looked up, shocked.
"No, I wouldn't say that at all," he said. "Even if I hadn't done what I did, you still would have won. And I really didn't do anything all that big. No, the victory belongs to you. I just…helped it along, a little."
"Though I will say," Mairon continued after a moment, "I am the better strategist." With that, he calmly pulled a move that Eönwë hadn't seen coming. Eönwë stared for a moment, trying to figure out just how Mairon had just won, then laughed.
"It was Failien, actually," he said. Mairon raised an eyebrow.
"Well, neither Istamírë nor Almaron could be spared from Mandos during the War, and Séretúrno was part of the Hosts, so Failien came and led those of Námo's people that could be spared to serve as our strategists." Eönwë shrugged. "Of course, during the long Ages, the rest of us learned a little bit about tactics ourselves…"
"You had to, it was called survival," Mairon pointed out.
"Very true," Eönwë agreed.
"But my people did pride themselves on knowing a bit more than just how to survive," Námo chuckled. He had come looking to check up on Mairon, and had watched the end of the game without either of the Maiar looking. Both now glanced up and smiled.
"You did very well, Mairon," he commented, coming to sit next to his Maia and wrapping an arm around him as Mairon cuddled into his side.
"Thank you," Mairon said with a brilliant smile.
"You should definitely keep practicing your strategic skills," Námo continued. "Often Istamírë or Almaron will set something up in the evenings. We will have to go soon."
"That would be nice," Mairon agreed. "And I can practice on my own as well."
"Well, definitely do so," Námo replied. Mairon smiled back innocently. Eönwë chuckled, remembering all the pranks Mairon had pulled in the past, and foreseeing more coming. He was suddenly glad he would be heading back to Númenor.
The chatter around them was beginning to quiet, as something more solemn seemed to be starting among the Elves.
"What's going on?" Mairon asked quietly.
"The Eldar must be starting their blessings," Eönwë said. Mairon looked up at Námo in confusion.
"The kings of the Eldar started a custom during the Darkening of invoking blessings on certain elflings," Námo explained. "It was an attempt to keep elflings who were beginning to fade from doing so. They were given good food, and often a small plush toy of some sort as well. But really, it was just being noticed and cared for that did them the most good. Now, an elfling is chosen by the king and given a small gift and blessings invoked for the coming year."
"Oh," Mairon said. "That is a nice custom."
"It is," Námo said with a smile. They sat quietly for a time, simply enjoying each other's company, until the Eldar were finished. It seemed to Mairon that after that there was a general consensus to eat. Mairon's stomach agreed with that and he slid off of Námo's lap with a smile, heading in the direction of the food. Mairon quickly filled a plate and munched on it as he wandered, looking for Olórin. He didn't know where his brother had gone.
He halted, his attention caught by a group of Elflings. He had seen very few of them, other than those fëar in Mandos who had died in childhood. They seemed to be playing with stones, but instead of any sort of game, they seemed to be trying to map the heavens.
"Wilwarin is on the other side of the sky," he commented, once he figured out what everything was supposed to be. They looked at him.
"That's what I said," one of the older Elflings said in exasperation.
"But it looks better over here!" one of the smallest protested. Mairon couldn't help but chuckle.
"Well, I'm sure you could take that up with Lady Varda," he said diplomatically. "She might be willing to move it for you." The oldest elflings seemed nonplused by that, but the youngest smiled at him cheerfully.
"I like stars," one little elleth said.
"I do too," Mairon said, sitting down by them. "I helped make them for a time, actually." The little elleth's face lit up.
"I wish I could sit on a star," she said, raptured at the thought.
"In a way, you are," Mairon said with a smile.
"What do you mean?" another Elfling asked.
"We used the stars to make much of the raw material for Arda," Mairon explained. "So what you're sitting on right now was probably once part of a star."
"Really?" the elleth breathed, her eyes wide. Mairon nodded.
"I thought you just sang it all," a slightly older elleth said, doubt in her voice.
"It would have taken a lot more work and energy that way," Mairon explained. "It was easier to let the stars do the work. Once we had the raw elements, bringing them together and shaping them was done by Song. But just creating the elements needed? It would have been tedious to do it all by Song. Now shaping it all together, and figuring out how everything would work, that was interesting."
"You didn't just know?" an ellon asked. Mairon shook his head.
"We had to figure it all out here. The uncounted Ages before we ever formed Arda were spent experimenting and practicing for what we would build here," Mairon said.
"I thought you would have just…known it," the older elleth said.
"We're not Ilúvatar," Mairon laughed. "We don't know everything. In fact, we Ainur are very much like you Eruhíni—we've just had longer to learn."
Maedhros was right, Mairon decided as he watched the Elflings digest that. The Elves needed to know more about the Ainur. Mairon suddenly wondered if Fëanor's problem with the Valar hadn't been so much that they were trying to control him, but that they weren't perfect, and couldn't fix the problems that had plagued his life…
"Star-planet," the first elleth murmured, and Mairon wondered in amusement if she'd heard anything he'd said after that. She laughed.
"We are the people of the stars, and we live on a planet that came from the stars," she sang. She caught sight of her father, and ran to him, telling him all about how Arda had been made from star-dust. Mairon chuckled as the group of Elflings drifted away, still talking about stars and Arda. He stared at their half-completed star map for a moment more, wondering how long it would last. Then, shrugging off the thought, he turned and looked for his lord.
Mairon finally spotted Námo and Vairë and many of their people all sitting together. Individuals were beginning to perform various musical numbers they had prepared, either as a solo or in groups. Mairon went and joined them, sitting again on Námo's lap. He was becoming slightly overwhelmed by everything that had happened today, and was grateful for the opportunity to sit quietly for a time.
For a while, they did nothing but sit and listen to the music, Mairon sharing from a small plate of dainties Námo had gotten. Then Melian came over to them. The normally very composed Maia was almost wringing her hands, and looked uncharacteristically nervous.
"I don't know if I can do this," she said to Mairon.
"Melyanna," Mairon said firmly. "I have flowers in my hair. Flowers that I let you put there. You promised."
"I know, I know," Melian said, distractedly.
"Melian," Mairon said, catching the other Maia's attention fully as for the first time he used her Sindarin name. "You can do it."
Melian took a deep breath and nodded. Then with head held high and back straight she walked to the front of the crowd.
And once more, the bells of Valmar fell silent as Melian sang.
So yeah, this is the longest chapter I've ever written. You're welcome. If you're still reading this story, please let me know! It's always a worry that people have abandoned a story after a long break. Reviews feed the muse!