Edit 1: As I write this, I'm hoping that the horizontal lines that separate these notes from the main text will show up. I thought that I had included them in my initial post; however, they weren't there. Writing in a word document seems a bit too much trouble at times, so I'm seriously thinking about switching back to html formatting.
The council scene has been slightly overhauled in order to incorporate what little information on the city of Valimar I was able to pull from The Silmarillion. So, the scene that is found here is my interpretation of the Ring of Doom.
The blessing of Ulmo has been moved to directly follow the scene at the hollow, and I have made several distinct changes. The mithril chain has turned into a braided necklace of dried sea weeds with a shell hanging on it. I thought it more fitting for a gift from the Lord of Waters. I was not happy with this scene when I initially posted it, but now that I've had some time to chew on it, it has improved.
Since it was a continuation of Ulmo's blessing, the closing paragraphs have been reworked to fit the new order.
In all, I am happier with this chapter now than I was when I first posted it :)
A/N: Another update so soon after the first...I hope I don't spoil anyone.. I sat through a four and a half hour exam this morning and had almost no ambition for homework when I got home, so don't expect treatment like this every week :) Also, these chapters are still in the process of being edited, so I may make changes after posting. All writers should know that their work is never really finished.
The resources I used for this came mainly from The Silmarillion, which I am rereading, and the Encyclopedia of Arda. The names of the Valar, as you can probably tell, are lacking the necessary accent marks.
I will beg now for no one to be offended. Colonel Mathers is a troubled man with bad experiences with religion. Coming from me, as the author, the term "bible thumpers" is in no way supposed to be a derogatory remark toward anyone (since I'm a bible thumper myself :)
Now I will address the gift given to Colonel Mathers by Ulmo. The Mithril chain symbolizes a gift of language, which allows him to both understand and be understood. I had battled with whether or not to add it into the text...perhaps in an edit if there is too much confusion...Nora will receive a similar gift before she returns to her body.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
The white wrought gates of Valmar opened onto the the hill of Ezellohar. The scars dealt to that treasured knoll by the evils of Ungoliant had been washed away by the tears of Nienna, yet the city of the Valar wilted beneath ages of lingering shadow. Laurelin and Telperion shone only as dim memories upon the white stone walls, walls that had once gleamed proudly beneath their boughs.
Orome galloped into the sprawling court upon Nahar, the gilded ivory of the Valaroma shining in the sunlight at his belt. The tinkling song of the city's many bells welcomed the Vala home. The huntsman of the Valar hastily tied his steed and turned his watchful eyes to Mahanaxar, the Ring of Doom, where his brethren gathered in a great council the likes of which had not been seen since the unchaining of Melkor. He mounted the white steps, His cloak, brown as the eldest forests of Arda, billowed about his booted feet, soiled with the fresh earth of the East.
The majesty of the fourteen thrones humbled even the grandest halls of Taniquetil. Manwe sat with a kingly grace upon his high seat, and the stars upon Varda's brow smiled down upon Orome as he entered into the hallowed circle.
"I have seen the Atani!" His declaration fell upon eager ears. Yavanna straightened, her willowy sorrel tresses, intricately plaited, fell across her shoulder to rest in her lap. The fragile blossoms cupped within her slender hands fell to rest upon the soft silks of her gown. The hewn form of Tulkas pinned the traveler with a curious gaze.
"What can you tell us of them, brother?" Nessa asked from her place beside her husband. Her graceful hand rested upon the arm of Tulkas, hoping to ease the anxious tensions she felt there.
"Their raiment is strange, as are their weapons, and I cannot decipher their tongue." Orome claimed his seat beside the master of dreams, and Irmo turned from his brother to acknowledge the young huntsman. Ulmo tapped a weathered thumb against the polished marble, his eyes a mockery of storm tossed waves. It took much to summon the sea dweller from his wanderings.
"Was their presence in Arda not fore sung? " Ulmo turned his gaze upon Manwe. The Lord of the Valar addressed the thirteen gathered.
"Long have I sensed a change in the music, yet I knew not what that change would bring." His eyes took on the far away look of one that dreamt as he sought for his Creator. It was long before he focused again on the gathered. "The mind of Iluvatar is shrouded in mist. Our Lord will not share this theme. It will unveil itself in due time." Vaire, the weaver of tales listened with avid attention. Beside her, Namo, the keeper of Mandos, turned to Manwe.
"You thought not to share this with me?" The Doomsman had long been deep in council with Manwe. Irmo stayed his brother's anger.
"We are not here to bicker. The Atani have come. For what purpose, we know not. This council must now decide what should be done to aid them." Manwe accorded his gratitude to Irmo and bid the gathered to heed his words.
"Let us look upon them with our own eyes." The voice of Este, long revered in the gardens of Lorien, spoke fleetingly to her husband. Irmo, the master of dreams and visions, spoke into being a vast and shadowed orb. With a gentle wave, the misty shrouds fell away. The three snowcapped peaks of Khazad-Dum gave way to the Dimrill Dale and fell to the sprawling banks of the Celebrant and the eastern foothills of the Misty Mountains.
Orome stood and approached the orb, "It is there." The hunter guided the vision to a short stony bluff sheltered by a nest of firs. A man, clothed in green, dressed the wounds of a woman. The midday heat saw droplets of sweat trickling from his bald scalp as he worked. Orome bristled at the sight of the smoldering embers of a dying fire. Surely they would rouse the attention of those scourges of Moria. "Let us make haste in our decisions, for I fear they will not long remain hidden from the goblins of Moria." Manwe nodded, and Orome took his seat once again.
Nienna rose at Iluvatar's silent urging, garnering astonished glances from her brethren. It took much to coax the mournful Vala away from her halls in the farthest reaches of the west. Her council was good for nought but the grief of the world. She extended a hand toward the orb and touched the vision of the daughter. "This one…her quest here sees both happiness and great sorrow…" The voice of the Vala wavered as her saddened eyes, blue as a deathly shroud, studied the Atani. The collector of tears turned to her brother. "I will guide her." Manwe nodded his ascent, and Namo summoned forth a quill and scrawled the pronouncement among his records. The ancient hidebound tome lay open upon his lap.
"What of the gifts of the Peredhil." All eyes trained upon the speaker. Varda stood, the starlight in her eyes never wavered.
"You would give to mere men the gifts of the first born!" Aule interjected. Anger erupted from the Valar. The outcry, however, was greatest from the master smith who had longed for his children to have such gifts.
The still and quiet voice of Yavanna called for silence, echoing the trill of Iluvatar, which all gathered felt and were ashamed. Manwe stood, and the orb vanished.
"If Iluvatar wishes it, so shall it be." He looked to Varda and read his answer from her starlit features. "They will be offered the choice of the Peredhil. Now, who will consent to guide the male?" A thoughtful silence reigned.
"Long have I tarried in the sea." Ulmo whispered, almost to himself, "I long to see the waters of the Celebrant once more. I will go." Manwe nodded, and Namo's quill scratched across parchment.
The encircled fell silent once more, and Manwe rose. "Let us now return to our halls. Thank you, brethren, for your swift attention." The Valar rose. Robes of many colors shone in the glory of the noonday sun. Manwe stepped down from his high seat and approached Ulmo. "My friend, tarry not in your mission." Ulmo clasped the arm of his friend. "Orome was wise in suggesting that the Atani would not go unnoticed by the Uruks of Moria."
"I will make haste, my Lord." Ulmo bowed and touched his forehead in a gesture of farewell.
--
Static…
"Rogers, Jamsa, report." Colonel Mathers stood, his booted foot resting upon an outcrop of moss covered stone. The meandering chatter of a river flowed haplessly below.
Static…
"Major Rogers, report."
Static…
"Dr. Jamsa, report."
Static…
He spat out a string of expletives as he pocketed the useless radio again and turned back toward the hollow. It was hardly a defensible position, but the shade of the firs provided relief from the mid afternoon heat, and the river brought with it a rush of bitterly cold water that was good for quenching his thirst.
He returned to the hollow where the figure of his young Lieutenant lay prone and tucked snugly against a short crag of grey stone. The nasty gash just below her hairline had finally clotted but would require infinitely better treatment than he was capable of providing. Sighing, he sunk down to rest on the soft grass beside her.
Mathers stared down into the burning embers of that morning's fire, feeling every one of his forty-two years. He closed his eyes, pretending for a moment not to hear Reynolds's haggard, pained breaths, and took stock of their situation. Radio communications were out, most likely due to atmospheric phenomena. The stargate was gone, surprising, yes, but not impossible for a technologically advanced society. His team had been separated. He had found no evidence of either the Major or the Doctor among the grassy foothills, yet Nora had been flung out right beside him, lying deathly still, her blood seeping down the burnt face of an exposed rock.
But, something seemed off…Any technologically advanced society would surely have discovered them by now. Looking at his wrist watch, he counted seven hours since Anubis's Kull warriors had ambushed their scouting mission on PXY-592. Mathers remembered again the torrential monsoon as he breathed the warm steadying air.
The river bubbled and frothed, and, silently, the essence of Ulmo rose from its heart to take his physical form upon the bank closest to the hollow. His sea green cloak rustled amidst the tall grasses as he approached.
Mathers tensed, his hand falling to the P90 at his side as he caught the faintest of footsteps. He released the safety and turned, peering through the branches to see a man cloaked and armored in mail the color of the sea. Mathers was filled with a great sense of dread in his presence. His eyes trained upon the large white shell upon his belt. The river swelled violently in reverence, it seemed.
The Colonel steeled himself and rounded the corner, his P90 raised and primed to fire. "I'd stop there if I were you." The man merely smiled, his dark hair blowing about his squared shoulders in the breeze. With a wave of his hand, the P90 melted away in a gush of salty ocean water. Ulmo spoke, and Mathers blacked out.
--
Another string of expletives colored the salted sea air as Mathers found himself standing upon the high rocky crags of a cliff. Waves crashed upon the shore beneath in a flurry of white foam spray. He surveyed his surroundings. The shelf of rock was no larger than the SGC control room while in all directions, the ocean spread to the horizons. Cramped quarters indeed.
"Welcome, Calminaion. I have encountered few Atani with heads such as yours." Ulmo laughed to himself, a deep, echoing laugh that brought the waves ever higher. Mathers cringed away from the rocky ledge. "Fear not. Your spirit is safest here. These waters will not harm you."
"What!" Mathers could hear little over the wind and the sea. He didn't believe in spirits and didn't hold with those who did, though his brother had tried diligently to get him back to church after the accident.
"You may call me Ulmo." The man introduced himself as he approached.
Mathers stared at the being, for he suspected now that he was not merely human. Ulmo moved to stand beside him, and peered out over the sea and into the west.
"You are a warrior, no?" Mathers peered over at Ulmo in suspicion. "And the woman was under your protection?" Robert snorted.
"She's an Air Force officer, a bit young, but she wouldn't have been assigned to my team if she couldn't do the job." He retorted, defending the young woman who reminded him so much of his Gina...
"Your nobles would allow a woman to advance in soldierly pursuits?" Ulmo smiled disdainfully. "Are they of little value in your world?" Robert's eyes darkened. The memory of his dead wife and her smiling visage wavered on the threshold of his mind. The shapeliness of her chin and the curls of her hair would lead none to guess that she had once served her country with honor.
"Our women," he spat out the word in mockery of the Vala's tone, "have the right to choose for themselves." Ulmo raised an eyebrow in question. "Now, where am I?"
"At the edges of my Kingdom. I am Lord over all the waters of Arda." He extended a hand with pride to the sea, and the waves rejoiced with the sound of his baritone.
"And the stargate?" The thought that they had somehow stumbled across a sect of ascended Ancients flitted through his mind, not for the first time.
"I have known no such term in all of my life, and I and my brethren were birthed before the making of the world." Robert scowled, muttering under his breath about religious nuts. If this were indeed an Ancient, he could see that it would be no help to him. Now, Reynolds was alone and vulnerable.
"Take me back."
"Come. I have something for you." Ulmo reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled from within a pallid green scapular of dry and braided seaweeds threaded through a small white shell.
Mathers shook his head. "Look, I'll tell you the same thing I tell to every bible thumping idiot that comes knocking on my door. I'm not interested! Take me back."
Ulmo reached out a hand and grasped the Colonel's shoulder, his eyes darkening as the waters below rebelled. Mathers quailed beneath the storm as the Vala whispered calming words in a fluid tongue. Ulmo slipped the symbol around the man's neck. "A gift from the Valar…the first of many." Mathers shut his eyes as a blanket of warmth surrounded him, "Eru has chosen you for a great work. I will guide you, Calminaion, worry not." The Vala's voice softened, and, laying a hand upon the man's forehead, he bowed his head and whispered a fluid prayer.
"I give to you the gift of language."
--
She stirred and settled again into the warmth of a bed of down pillows. Slowly, she opened her eyes and found herself in a hall lit with spun silver lamps that exuded a pale glow like no earthly light. A fire burned low inside a vast stone fireplace, and a kettle warmed upon the hearth. Tapestries hung from the walls, deep purples and mournful blues embroidered simply yet the design was intricate and most likely from the hand of a master.
She sat up slowly; her body still languished in sleep. A night dress flowed over her pale and scarred skin like water. She remembered nothing.
A door closed, and a woman entered. She was clothed in a simple gown of a sorrowful green, and her hair fell in charcoal ringlets to rest at her waist. She smiled upon finding her guest awake and bustled toward the bed.
"You have awoken! You know not the trouble I went through to save you." The woman took hold of her chin and tilted it upward, sad eyes peering into blank eyes. "Your memories will return in time. For now your physical body will heal best with your spirit settled here." A question formed on her chapped lips, yet the woman spoke again, "Do not ask me your name, for I do not know it. To me, you will be Eruaistaniel, from the tongue of the first born, for Eru sent you here."
"And what do I call you?" Her voice sounded raspy to her own ears, and she now noticed how badly she ached for a drink.
"I am Nienna, A Vala of Iluvatar." She drew a pitcher from the bedside table and poured a glistening liquid into a silver goblet. "Drink. It will replenish you." Nora took the goblet and sipped the sweet, heavenly nectar. Immediately, she was rejuvenated.
"Why am I here?" She asked. She felt oddly like she didn't belong, but could not recall anything past waking.
"Only Iluvatar knows. Though your melody is unfinished I fear. Rest now, and worry not. All will become clear in time." She took the goblet from her hands and returned it to the bedside table. Nora settled back against the pillows and turned to peer out a vast arched balcony at white sanded shores.
--
Mathers awoke to find himself back beside the river. He stood, feeling the shell resting warmly just above his heart. He could not begin to wrap his mind around what had just occured. Ulmo strode purposefully out of the hollow, carrying a role of linen bandages and a wooden vessel of water.
"I have cleaned and redressed her wounds. Her spirit is within Nienna's keeping now. There it will remain until her physical body has healed." His stormy gaze turned toward the three towering peaks above them. "You must flee from here"
"Run where?" Mathers demanded, "I found nothing here, not a soul for miles." Ulmo smiled and took hold of the expensive scanner the Colonel had taken from a pocket.
"Your sorcery will not work here, which is all the more reason for you to flee now while there are still several hours of daylight left." He pointed toward the mountains again, "The goblins of Moria do not venture out until nightfall. When Arien descends they will begin their hunt." Ulmo motioned him eastward where the river flowed onward into a green haze on the horizon. "Take her and follow the Celebrant. No more than a day's walk and you will come to the Western Marches of Lothlorien. There you will be in the care of the Eldar. I will be with you, Calminaion. Farewell." Ulmo retreated back into the welcoming waters of the Celebrant, and Mathers watched in awe as he shed his physical form once more.
Lisa
Index:
Hill of Ezellohar: The hill in Valimar where the two trees grew before their destruction.
Valaroma: The horn of Orome.
The Ring of Doom (Mahanaxar): The central court where the Valar held council.
Atani: Men
Namo: More commonly referred to as Mandos
Choice of the Peredhil: The choice of judgement offered to the half-elven. Will they choose the blessings of the first born or the bindings of the second?
PXY-592: A designation assigned to a planet within the stargate network.
SGC: Stargate Command
Calminaion: "Robert" translated into elvish. Taken from .
Eruaistaniel: "Lisa" translated into elvish. I am particularly fond of that name :) But, further into the story the translation of "Nora" will also be used. Also taken from .
Arien: The sun
Listing of the Valar (Lords):
Manwe
Ulmo
Aule
Orome
Mandos
Lorien
Tulkas
Listing of the Valier (Queens):
Varda
Yavanna
Nienna
Este
Vaire
Vana
Nessa