Strange Alliances

by Erestor

Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, or the Harry Potter series. This story was written for entertainment purposes only and not for money.

My thanks to all who reviewed!

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

'But Morgoth himself the Valar thrust through the Door of Night beyond the Walls of the World, into the Timeless Void; and a guard is set for ever on those walls, and Eärendil keeps watch upon the ramparts of the sky.'

- J.R.R. Tolkien, 'The Silmarillion'

Manwë had just finished politely telling his eagles that Varda was tired of eating salmon. The eagles were confused. They could not understand how anyone could be tired of eating salmon. They were offended when Manwë tried to explain that after eating salmon for two hundred years, it became a rather unpleasant diet. Eventually they flew off, disgruntled expressions on their faces.

Manwë sighed, feeling horrible for having offended them. He sat down on the stairs of Ilmarin and was gloomy for a while. Then he got up and went to talk to Vairë. He thought that he might as well do all his offending in one day.

Vairë was weaving in her own hall. She gave Manwë a guileless look when he came across her, which only served to make Manwë suspicious.

"Good afternoon, Vairë," he said, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking guilelessly back at her. If anyone was good at seeming completely innocent, it was Manwë.

"Good afternoon, Manwë," said Vairë, weaving busily. "How do you do?"

"Very well, thank you," said Manwë. He peered over Vairë's shoulder, trying to see what she was doing. Shapes and scenes were emerging rapidly, but he had a difficult time making them out properly. "Could you explain these pictures for me, please?" he asked.

Vairë decided to tell Manwë the truth, knowing better than to underestimate him. She pointed to one scene. "That's Námo," she said.

Manwë was startled. "Really? He is in Middle-earth now?"

Vairë nodded. "He's not been there long. Maybe a few months at the most."

A few months was hardly any time at all. Still, Manwë was surprised to learn that Mandos had been away that long. "What about Irmo and Nienna?" he asked.

"They're in Middle-earth as well," said Vairë, pointing to the pictures of the Valar in question. They appeared to be drinking tea and eating scones. "They have all made it to Imladris."

"Who's that?" asked Manwë, tapping on the picture of a tall Elf.

"Fëanor," said Vairë. "He escaped the Halls, but Mandos seems to have caught him."

"Why didn't anyone report this?" asked Manwë. The thought of Fëanor running around in Third Age Middle-earth made him feel ill.

"Tulkas and Nessa didn't notice his absence," said Vairë. "They have let everything in the Halls go completely to pieces."

Manwë suspected that Vairë was correct on that count. He couldn't imagine Tulkas and Nessa being organized in the least. He had thought, when he had appointed them to the task, that they would help the fëar be more cheerful, but now he worried that he had made a mistake. Still, no one else had volunteered for the job.

"Perhaps I ought to go and inspect the Halls of Mandos," said Manwë.

"That's a good idea," said Vairë. "You could restore order again."

Manwë dashed off, and Vairë watched him go, still weaving busily. She thought that Valinor was in a very bad state indeed.

"Come in! Come in!" cried Nessa delightedly, ushering Varda into Mandos's office.

Varda sighed as she viewed the devastation. She had been in Mandos's office before, on occasion, and it had always been austere and immaculate, with everything carefully filed away. It had been so radically altered since he had left that now it was nearly unrecognizable.

It was a huge office, with hundreds of filing cabinets lining the walls. Nessa, always the athletic type, had moved a ping-pong table and dartboard into the room, since there was plenty of space for them. There was a soccer ball perched on Mandos's paperclip tray on top of his desk. But worst of all, there were papers spilling everywhere. Nessa had apparently tried to file some of them, and then gotten bored. Papers were tumbling out of the cabinets, all crumpled and bent. Papers were lying in dejected heaps on the floor. Nessa had folded some into origami hats and boats. She had even set her coffee cup on a massive stack of them.

Nessa chattered excitedly as she led Varda into the room. She pulled out a chair and bundled papers off it. "I'm going to get this dump refurbished," she remarked, seeing Varda's horrified expression. "This whole place is so gloomy."

Varda, looking around, did feel rather gloomy. She missed Mandos. "I was wondering," she said, politely interrupting Nessa, "if I could pay Melkor a visit."

Nessa gaped. "I suppose you could," she said, after a few stunned minutes had ticked by.

"Is there something I have to fill out first?" asked Varda. "Are there some instructions I should read? Warnings? Precautions? Or can I just enter the Timeless Void right away?"

"I don't know. N-no one ever wants to visit the Void," said Nessa, twisting her hair around her fingers anxiously.

"Surely someone must sometimes?"

"Vairë brings Morgoth dinner now and then, I think," said Nessa.

"Really?" Varda's eyebrows arched. "Is that allowed?"

"I don't know," said Nessa. "It must be allowed, or else she wouldn't do it."

"Hand me the keys, then, if there's nothing I have to read or sign," said Varda, stretching out her hand.

Nessa opened a drawer of Mandos's desk, and eyed the contents worriedly.

There were hundreds of keys in Mandos's desk drawer. Mandos was practically a key collector. He had small, silver keys, and larger, heavier keys. Some keys were strange shapes, others were of a more traditional design. Nessa turned over the keys quickly, searching. Thankfully, Mandos had all the keys neatly labeled. Finding the one that opened the Door of Night wasn't too difficult.

"Here," said Nessa at last, pulling out a huge, iron key, adorned with spikes. She shivered at the touch of it. "Good luck, Lady Varda."

"Thank you." Varda took the key with a sarcastic smile and quickly left the room. The Timeless Void would be nothing to her after Mandos's Desecrated Office.

"What are you doing?" bellowed Tulkas goodnaturedly, having come across some fëar who seemed to actually be working.

Caught and cornered, the fëar cowered fearfully, clutching at pens and pieces of paper. Eventually they nudged their spokeself forward.

"Er... we were filling out our paperwork," said Ecthelion nervously.

"Paperwork?" roared Tulkas. The fëar cringed even more, and Ecthelion handed up his paperwork for Tulkas to inspect. Tulkas squinted at it. "Trees of Valinor," he said at last, "why are wasting your time on such rubbish? You could be playing games."

"Well... er... Mandos will come back soon," said Ecthelion, "and we don't want to be behind."

Tulkas snorted. "I'll tell Mandos that I kept you busy, never fear," he said. "I won't let him punish you. Now run along and have fun!"

"No!" cried Ecthelion desperately. "Really, we'd rather do paperwork, please."

Tulkas was just about to force the fëar to go and play hopscotch and ring-around-the-rosy with the others, when Manwë entered the Halls of Mandos. His eyes widened to size extra large as they were greeted by the sight of the orange and pink patterned wallpaper. He murmured, "This is worse than I thought," and hurried over to Tulkas.

Tulkas greeted Manwë with an enthusiastic whack on the back, an unexpected blow that sent Manwë reeling forward. The fëar scuttled out of his way, dragging their paperwork after them.

"Hello, Manwë!" said Tulkas delightedly.

"Hello," gasped out Manwë, picking himself off the floor. Grinning, Tulkas punched him brutally on the arm, and Manwë grinned painfully back at him.

"How are you?" boomed Tulkas.

"I am well, thank you," said Manwë, deciding not to mention his broken arm.

At this moment, Nessa dashed into the Halls. "Lady Varda is gone!" she cried.

"Gone? Gone where?" demanded Manwë.

"To the Timeless Void!" shrieked Nessa hysterically.

"Oh dear," said Manwë.

Eärendil was leaning dangerously far out over the side of his ship, gazing down at the world beneath him. Varda was beside him for several minutes before he noticed her presence, and then he startled so violently that he nearly fell off his boat.

"Lady Elbereth!" he cried, once he had regained his balance. "It is an honor to have you on board!"

Varda gave him a kindly patronizing smile. "I need you to take me to the Door of Night," she said.

This came as even more of a shock to poor Eärendil. Eventually the flabbergasted man said, "Certainly, my lady," and then continued by mentioning a lot of nautical things that Varda did not understand. She thought that perhaps he was telling her that it would take a while to reach the Door, but she was uncertain. Varda gave him another smile, this one doubtful and confused, and then stared off into the distance contemplatively, hoping that he would be quiet soon.

Presently, Varda realized that she was contemplating the Walls of the World, and then she was simply awed. It takes a lot to make a Vala feel insignificant, but the Walls were overwhelmingly vast. She found herself staring straight upwards, and even then, she could not see the top of them. She looked away and saw that the walls stretched infinitely downward as well.

"How can you handle this without going mad?" asked Varda.

Eärendil hummed and hawed. Then he said, "I read a lot of books."

"Oh." Varda nodded encouragingly.

"I play chess with myself sometimes," said Eärendil. "I talk to myself. And I can whistle the Anthem of Sirion backwards!"

Varda wondered if perhaps Eärendil was mad. She supposed it would not be tactful to ask.

Eärendil gave her a nervous grin, and then said, "Here we are. This is the Door of Night."

Varda couldn't see anything, just the vast, dark wall, but she nodded intelligently. "Wait here to pick me up again," she said, and walked across the ship to its port side. She reached out, hesitantly, and ran her fingers over the wall. It was very cold, and it made her whole body tingle inside. At last she found the lock, slipped the key into it, twisted it, and entered the Void.

Varda entered the Void without actually opening the Door. This was strange. It seemed that all one had to do was have the key and turn it, and then one was instantly inside. Mandos was very security conscious, and he probably didn't want the Door of Night to ever be open.

It was blacker than ink inside the Void. Varda knew there was nothing to see, but she liked light, so she put the key back in her pocket, and pulled out two stars from her other pocket. She held a star in each hand. "Melkor! Come here!" she yelled. "I want to speak with you!"

Melkor, of course, did not come into the circle of light, but she felt him, far off, hovering on its outskirts. That was as close as she wanted him.

"What a pleasant surprise," growled Melkor. He sounded more cranky than threatening, so Varda only smirked sweetly in his direction, instead of running for the Door of Night, screaming.

"I would like to ask you a few questions," said Varda. "You don't have to answer them." She paused meaningfully. "Of course, I don't have to take these stars back with me when I leave." She looked even more meaningful.

He would be incapable of extinguishing her stars, hence Varda's confidence that she would get her answers. Melkor growled a little more.

"Firstly," said Varda, "I would like to know if you have been talking with Vairë."

"I have not," said Melkor.

Varda nodded, absently tossing a star into the air and catching it again. Then she said, "So she brings you dinner and goes away at once?"

"Yes," said Melkor. "She leaves it at the door."

Varda tossed her star again, thoughtfully this time. "What do you think of Sauron?"

"What do you mean by that?" asked Melkor. The light darkened slightly as he moved forward.

"He's doing a rather good job of taking over Middle-earth again, isn't he?" asked Varda. "And all without your help."

Melkor was quiet. Varda smiled. "Or perhaps," she said slowly, "he does have your help."

Varda knew that she had hit on the truth. Melkor's silence was enough to tell her that. She felt Melkor coming even closer, and she faltered for the first time. He was shapeless, only a fragment of himself. He was very dangerous that way.

Her questions answered, albeit indirectly, she had no need to stay around. Varda thrust the key into the lock, twisted it, and was through the Door of Night in a moment. She leaned against it, taking a deep breath, and then opened her eyes and smiled at Eärendil, who was staring down at her from his ship.

"I'm back," she said. "Have I been gone long?"

"Only three days," said Eärendil. "I practiced the Anthem of Sirion while I waited for you."

"Thank you for staying," said Varda. She stepped on board the ship again. "Could you take me home now, please?"

"Why, certainly," said Eärendil. "I can whistle the Anthem of Sirion for you, if you would like."

Varda realized unhappily that her return trip might feel a good deal longer than her conversation with Melkor.

TBC...