A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this fic. I offer chocolate roses to all of you.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Silmarillion or Danny Phantom.

Chapter 3

Námo returned to the hall where he had left the other three elves. Vairë remained where she was when he left with Aragon. The elves sat in chairs not far from her. Thîwdín sat apart from the others, trying not to look at them, but not really paying attention to the tapestries either. Thangrod sat with a sneer on his face, as he glanced between Vairë and the other elves. Tarmafuin sat near the tapestry Vairë hung just before the elves' arrival, smiling proudly at the series of images near the top.

Making his decision, the Doomsman cleared his throat to get the elves' attention. All three turned to look at him in surprise, having not noticed his arrival. "Tarmafuin, you are next. Come with me." The addressed elf rose from his seat, smirking at the others before following the Vala from the room.

They entered another tapestried room. Námo turned to face Tarmafuin, gesturing around the room as he spoke. "Tarmafuin, these are your tapestries. They tell your story. Now, you have a choice. Either you narrate, or I will."

Tarmafuin's eyes lit up. "I will narrate. I wish to tell you exactly why I did what I did."

Námo raised an eyebrow. "Truly? Please proceed."

Tarmafuin smiled proudly. "I was a student of Master Aragon's in Prince Curufin's class. We were both excellent students, and Prince Curufin admired my ability. Due to our similar skill levels, Master Aragon often paired us together for practice. It was not long before Curufin began inviting me to visit at the palace.

"Prince Fëanor was impressed by my skill and chose me for his retinue when I completed my years of training." The elf scoffed. "And Master Aragon was so proud of serving Prince Maedhros. He merely served Fëanor's eldest son. I served Fëanor himself!

"I served Prince Fëanor for many yéni. I rose through the ranks of his retinue very quickly. After Morgoth's release, I often found myself treated to Fëanor's long speeches about how life in Valinor was changed. Those speeches soon began to suggest that we should never have left Middle-earth, that great deeds awaited us there if we did but have the courage to leave Valinor!"

Námo interrupted his recitation. "Fëanor forgot that his own father was an emissary of the Eldar, sent to Valinor to see our land before the choice was made to come here. Finwë asked that our invitation to live in Valinor be accepted. As you know, you accepted it freely. The Noldorin lived here peacefully for many yéni. Why was it so important to you to leave Valinor?"

"I would follow Fëanor and Curufin anywhere!"

Námo noted, 'Tarmafuin displays very strong loyalty, but it is very different from the loyalty of his master, Aragon. Aragon was fully aware that his actions had evil consequences, and he came to regret them later. Tarmafuin seems to have no regard for how wrong he was, and rather than remorse, he is proud of everything he did.' Aloud, he urged, "Please continue."

"As Prince Fëanor grew more eager to reclaim the wide lands of Middle-earth that should have been ours, we began to hear that not everyone would wish to follow if he led us from Valinor. When we heard the rumors that his half-brothers wished to usurp their father's throne and supplant Fëanor, I knew it was only a matter of time before events came to a head. The King had always favored Fëanor as the eldest son and the only child born to him by his first wife, and his younger sons resented Fëanor for that favor. In order to protect my lord's interests, I made it my business to learn how to use the weapons the smiths began to forge at that time."

Námo narrowed his eyes at this declaration. Even so many yéni after Melkor's defeat, his lies still proliferated. It would take much to correct this elf's perceptions.

The elf continued his tale. "It was not long before I was proven correct. King Finwë summoned the lords to a council, and his younger sons arrived before Fëanor. When Fëanor did finally arrive, he was furious. His threats to his elder half-brother Fingolfin were fully justified. And for those threats, he was exiled!" He clenched his fists in anger at the perceived injustice.

Tarmafuin stalked over to the wall of tapestries to the left of the door. Stopping at one of the tapestries, he snarled, "Fingolfin took this opportunity to take over the rule of the Noldorin! With Fëanor exiled, King Finwë chose to join his elder son. I began packing the moment I heard, fully prepared to march on the usurper upon our return home. I was certain the King would have difficulty in taking up the kingship again when he returned when Fëanor's banishment was lifted." Námo crossed his arms and watched.

Tarmafuin glowered at the tapestry. "Morgoth actually had the gall to come to Formenos to try to talk Fëanor into letting him get near the Silmarils. I was on guard duty near the doors, and heard the entire conversation. I could not believe what he tried to do. I was a friend of the family, and I was denied the sight of them. What made him think that he, an enemy, would be permitted anywhere near them?" He sneered as he said this.

"When Fëanor was finally summoned by Manwë to Valimar to reconcile with his brothers, Fëanor went alone. Finwë refused to return home until his son was permitted back in Tirion. While waiting to hear whether we could go home, a darkness fell over everything." He paused in his tale, and Námo cocked his head.

"We knew not what had occurred, but before we could try to find out, a deeper Darkness appeared." The elf gulped hard, the first emotion, other than zeal, that he had shown. "The strange power the Darkness came from was so terrible, none could stand before it. I was on the practice field, at the time, and went to confront the invader. But the fear that preceded it was so strong, I could not approach."

Námo's glare softened momentarily, in the face of the fëa's relived fear. He allowed Tarmafuin to collect himself, and said gently, "Please continue."

Tarmafuin nodded. "Finwë alone defied that Darkness. Morgoth came with it, however, and slew the King. We could do nothing to stop the murder. Then, Morgoth descended to the vaults and stole all the jewels our smiths created, including Fëanor's Silmarils. We sent word of the attack to the Valar, but Morgoth had fled with his prize."

He straightened with pride. "Fëanor returned to Formenos, full of wrath at his father's murder and the theft of the Silmarils. He led us back to Tirion and inflamed the hearts of all the Noldor to a desire to return to Middle-earth. He called us to vengeance for the murder of King Finwë, and to conquest of the vast lands that awaited us. I needed little prompting. My king needed me, and after all, why should we allow these Men to take what should have been ours?"

Námo said nothing, but raised an eyebrow. The Valar themselves knew little of Men, at the time Tarmafuin mentioned. But more to the point, why was this wayward elf so concerned with what they did or did not have?

Tarmafuin did not seem to have his own ideas about this, but he parroted the words of Fëanor. The Vala was running out of patience for the parrot and wanted to get on with this current elf's Judgement.

"Fëanor's speech concluded when he and all of his sons swore their great Oath: By the name of Illuvatar, calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they kept it not; with Manwë, Varda, and the hallowed mountain of Taniquetil as witness, to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World Vala, Demon, Elf, or Man as yet unborn, or any creature, great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold, take, or keep a Silmaril from their possession.

"I swore to myself that I would do what I could to help my King and his sons to fulfill their Oath. It began with finding a way across the Sundering Seas back to Middle-earth. Fëanor led us to Alqualondë, the Haven of the Swans, home of the Teleri Elves. Their ships were vital to us as a mode of transport. But Olwë, their king, refused to aid us!

"After we assembled a large enough force, Fëanor sent a contingent to take the ships by force. They tried to stop us," here, Tarmafuin scoffed at the memory, "But we were better armed, and we easily beat them back."

Námo interrupted the tale. "Wait a moment. Are you honestly telling me that after your King vowed that no one should steal his gems and remain unpunished, you felt proud and perfectly justified in slaughtering countless Teleri Elves, your brethren, so that you could steal their ships?"

The elf shrugged. "They renounced our friendship, and refused to lend us the ships we needed to pursue Morgoth. Fëanor decided that we had not the time to attempt to persuade the Teleri any longer. Once we had possession of the ships, we took them up the coast, intending to cross the Sea farther North."

Námo cleared his throat, and the elf looked up, his tirade interrupted. "Tarmafuin, it is clear to me that you are a very loyal Elf, fearless in your words and deeds to honor your king, Fëanor, and later his son Curufin." This made the fëa beam with pride. "However, we are not here at present to discuss or to Judge either Fëanor or Curufin. Both have had their Judgement, and are serving their sentences, as they may be.

"We are here to discuss you and your actions. The fact that they were largely orders from a king or prince may be taken as mitigating factors – if the situation warrants it. But from here on in, we shall focus on your actions. Have I made myself clear?"

Tarmafuin quailed at the Vala's obvious irritation. Nodding slowly, he said, "Perfectly, my Lord."

Námo nodded back in satisfaction, before moving on to the next tapestry he wished to cover. "Very well. Now, let us move on to this."

Tarmafuin approached the indicated tapestry. "Well, when Fëanor brought his followers to the East coast of Valinor and we were ready to cross the Sea to Middle-earth, we did not have enough ships to carry everyone over at once. The Elves present were all arguing about who should be brought over first, terrified of being left behind. Fëanor simply selected those of us most loyal to him and abandoned the rest of the Elves who came with us, and left them to return home. I fully agreed with his choice. If they could not agree on a course of action, it was right to let them stay behind! I was one of the first to jump to obey when Fëanor ordered the ships to be burnt at Losgar, on the West coast of Middle-earth.

"Unfortunately, the burning ships drew the attention of the Enemy. We had marched from the shore, and camped on the shores of Lake Mithrim when we were assaulted before our defenses were in place. Though caught unawares, we easily defeated the Orcs. I killed many of them. Fëanor was so filled with rage, that he followed the fleeing Orcs, hoping to defeat Morgoth at once. I followed, as well, trying to protect him, but he outstripped all of us. He was soon surrounded by Balrogs before the gates of Angband. Unable to reach him, we could do nothing as he fought the Demons alone, until he fell."

The elf was nearly in tears as he described the battle. "We were finally reinforced by Fëanor's sons, and we rescued him from the clutches of the Enemy, but it was already too late. He bade his sons to hold to the Oath, and then he died. We were horrified as his body exploded in spontaneous combustion. No part of his body was left for burial; all was ash, blown away in the wind."

Námo produced a handkerchief for the elf to wipe his eyes. He patiently waited for Tarmafuin to collect himself.

When he had calmed sufficiently, the elf looked up at Námo gratefully, and said, "Thank you for the respite, my Lord." Tarmafuin took a cleansing breath and continued his tale. "Those of us who served Fëanor were now divided between his sons. Curufin, my friend since childhood, brought me into his service. I was proud to serve him. Most like Fëanor of the seven of them, he would stay the course in fulfilling their Oath the most readily. And I was prepared to help him do just that."

Námo walked over to the other side of the room, to stand beside another tapestry. As he pointed at a scene, he said, "Now tell me what you were doing here. I know what everyone else was doing. I want to hear what you were doing at this juncture."

Tarmafuin joined the Vala in front of the tapestry and scowled. "I was having dinner with Curufin and his son Celebrimbor, and my prince wished to be assured that his son would continue to do what was needed to fulfill the Oath. There was peace at that time, but Curufin knew it would not last. He still recalled his father's death, and wanted to know that, if the worst should happen to him, his son would take his place.

"Celebrimbor refused to make such promises. He said that so far, the Oath had brought the Elves nothing but woe. The rebellious troll wanted to turn his back on all his grandfather died for, and return to 'creating things of beauty.' He cared not for recovering the Silmarils, but wished to make other treasures, as though the Silmarils could be replaced!

"Curufin was angry at Celebrimbor for his refusal to hold to the Oath, but he did not wish to fight with his son at that juncture. The War with Morgoth was far more important than this disagreement."

Tarmafuin slammed a fist into his open palm. "How DARE that insolent whelp turn his back on the avowed duty of his grandfather, the valiant work of his father, to retrieve these treasured family heirlooms! It was not my place to gainsay my prince, but neither would I rest until either the brat would repent and fulfill the family vows, or would otherwise pay for his crimes!"

Námo raised an eyebrow and thought, 'Now, the wayward fëa still has yet to tell of his deeds, but at least he begins to tell what he should have focused on. Even one as stubborn as he can be taught.'

The fuming elf continued. "Then, when I heard that he had abandoned his father in Nargothrond, after Beren and Lúthien came through that city on the Quest for the Silmarils, I was furious. How dare he! I was willing to defend Curufin to the death, and Celebrimbor let those fools throw his father and uncle out of the city alone and undefended?

"At this point, I did nothing on the matter of Celebrimbor, but bide my time."

Námo nodded, arms folded across his chest. "I suppose you should be praised for your loyalty to your prince, misplaced though it was, given that your favored prince was known for destroying Elves over naught but a trinket, Fëanors' Oath notwithstanding." Tarmafuin gulped, only now realizing that the Vala did not consider his actions as either correct or justified. The elf had fully believed in the rightness of any and all of his actions on behalf of both Fëanor and Curufin. He was an elf loyal to his king and his prince. Surely an Elf had no higher duty than serving his king, and then prince?

He could not believe that the Vala had discounted, nay condemned, the violence committed over the fulfillment of Fëanor's Oath. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could tell his Judgement was already sealed. There was nothing to be done, but to tell the truth as he saw it. It would not help, but it could not possibly hurt more than he already was.

Tarmafuin cleared his throat. "After Beren and Lúthien died, the Silmaril was inherited by their son, 'King' Dior. As if he had the right to have possession of it! Curufin and his brothers called on him to surrender the Silmaril, but he refused to acknowledge their claim to their father's jewel. As you said, over this, my prince and his brothers waged war.

"I see, now, that the cause for which we fought was not as just as I had thought at the time. But I fought for my prince, and I followed him to the end. In the battle, Dior killed three of the beloved sons of Fëanor, Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin. In revenge for my prince's death, I killed Dior. And soon after, I, too, was killed."

Námo gave the elf a few moments to collect himself, recognizing how hard it was for a fëa to discuss his own death. After a sufficient respectful pause, he moved on. "You served your prince loyally, following him even unto death. Why did you not obey my Summons?"

Tarmafuin shifted a bit uncomfortably. "As I said before, I would not rest until I had avenged Celebrimbor's betrayal of his family's fulfillment of Fëanor's Oath. Perhaps unfortunately for me, I knew not where to begin. For the first few years, I searched far and wide, but, as I mentioned earlier, Middle-earth is vast. After years of fruitless searching, I grew weary. Vengeance was still my purpose for remaining in Middle-earth, but without direction, I had temporarily put off my pursuit.

"I continued to wander until I found the companionship of other Houseless who dwelt in the marshes of Swanfleet. That was until Thangrod complained of his unsuccessful attempt to take over the body of Glorfindel, a particularly strong fëa in a particularly strong body. I taunted him for his lack of perseverance."

Námo clucked his tongue. It was not bad enough that this elf stayed a Houseless, but that he taunted another fëa for not having successfully performed the greatest perversion of which a Houseless was capable.

Tarmafuin continued. "Thangrod mentioned some adan spirit that managed to stop him. I told of my own desire to take Celebrimbor, and then we were joined by Thîwdín and Master Aragon. Thîwdín was attracted to Elrond's unusual lineage. Master Aragon proceeded to scold all three of us for desiring elves that draw attention simply for existing, then declared that he would accept any soldier he could find. When Thangrod mentioned that Celebrimbor was so close to where we were, I was eager to proceed with his plan. I would have my revenge at last!

"We listened to several healers discussing the adan, and learned that the child was out in the city. Thangrod wanted to go locate him, but I wanted to take Celebrimbor as soon as I could. Master Aragon insisted that knowing where the adan was would help ensure our safety. I was quite annoyed with him for the delay but, as usual, he was right.

"We located the adan, and I was finally able to do what I had dreamt of accomplishing for many yéni. Now that I knew where to search, I found Celebrimbor quickly. I had my prize! Well... almost. The adan caught up with me and managed to force me out, somehow. He captured me in a strange container, and here I am."

Námo studied the elf before him before pronouncing Judgement. "You showed great loyalty to your king and prince. As such, you will remain here in contemplation until such time that Curufin is reborn."

Tarmafuin nodded. "That will be wonderful!" Then, the Vala's words fully registered. "Wait, Curufin has not yet been reborn? He has been dead for millennia!"

Námo shrugged. "He has yet to show remorse for the Kinslayings. Until he does, there is little reason to consider him ready for rebirth."

Upon hearing Námo's words, the elf objected. "But... it could be many more millennia before he is reborn!"

The Doomsman cocked his head to one side, then nodded to himself. "After you have stayed here in contemplation for 300 Years of the Sun, I will permit you to visit with Curufin. Perhaps you will be able to help Curufin find remorse for his actions."

After a moment of thought, Tarmafuin nodded in acceptance. "I believe I can do that. Curufin did listen to me on occasion."

Námo responded, "You should hope this will be one of them."