Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: T
Couples: Canon Ones
Warnings: AU
Chapter: 15
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Namó was deeply considering the events in front of him, at least until Vairë was suddenly moving beside him. People would later say that they moved at the exact same time, even their fellow Ainur, but he knew that he'd simply arrived faster than she.
"Míriel!" The first Queen of the Noldor came to a stop beside Vairë's throne, form blazing as the world tore at her being. He forcibly shifted his weave, lack of warning meaning he needed precious moments to form a small Hall around her. Two of his Maiar manifested around his hands, flaring themselves wide to safeguard this unhoused soul. They had only needed the fact that he was making a Hall instead of grabbing her to know.
Are you out of your mind!? He wanted to yell at her, but he already suspected what had happened. Her faint gasp of 'Virilomë' confirmed it... They were hitting that part of history now, apparently. Vairë rushed from the gathering, tearing at the weave in her haste badly enough that there was physical strands of it dangling from empty air.
"Namó?" Manwë softly spoke, voice crackling like the brewing storm out on the waters.
He was not rude enough to just wave off his King, but he was rude enough to focus on making a Hall-adjacent quickly and stably enough that he could before...
The Doomsman of the Valar did not consider what kind of mess he left behind when the inevitable happened. He also did not consider what people might think of him resorting to the closest Ainur had to metaphysical hand-to-hand.
Melkor recoiled, away from the two near-spiders he had been facing just a heartbeat earlier. Threads of searing light arched around them, making a near lightless crevasse in Creation where Virilomë stood.
"The Trees." The raging void-being warned him, as if he'd have been able to miss the dent in Telperion. He did not ask his wife what she intended, metaphysical arms digging into the threads of Eä around them.
"Help her." He took the hit of the hammer, a similar one to the one who had made him move, but he was immune to its' secondary-effect, so it meant little to him beyond anger at his corrupted Song.
Beside them, the Trees moved, threads of their roots wrenched from the ground, shifting the entirety of the small glade well south of the fighting quartet. Melkor cursed, which just confirmed both his own suspicion and Virilomë's warning; they were hitting that part of the Song now. The ground shook, large leg slamming down hard enough to nearly hit bedrock when Manwë's twin dodged Vairë's twin's attack. Still, there had been solid hits from all sides at this point, two of which had been earlier leg-stomps.
Namó fell back some, the pain from his wife hampering his concentration. While she was somewhat immune through their marriage-bond, it was not enough to shake it off as he did.
Luckily the Valar were not nearly as useless as Fëanáro decried them, because both Tulkas and Oromë tagged in, followed very quickly by a lightning-bolt crashing from the clear skies. Melkor turned to flight, but Namó knew the doom that followed him still.
"Hunt him." He looked at the other two Valar, even as his faná moved to his wife's. "He will pass Formenos. He must not linger there." Tulkas turned, but Oromë threw a glance up - and up - at the nothing sheltering the Valie while at the same time being sheltered by her itself. It was a telling one. "Go."
Nahar slipped past the Song like a left-open stable-door, and the Valaróma opened the hunt. It'd hopefully warn Finwë Noldóran not to do something distinctly Fëanáro-ish.
"I cannot take you along, will you follow?" He turned to the closest thing he had to a law-sister on Vairë's side. "I must get her to Estë."
"I will." Soft creaking assured him. "I must insist on some shelter once there, though."
"Of course, sister." He reached for his own path through space, pulling Vairë along with him as he moved along the path to Máhanaxar.