Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: T

Couples: Canon Ones

Warnings: AU

Chapter: 19

Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Manwë, when sat on his throne on Taniquetil, as long as Varda was sat beside him, would see all, even into the depths of Ulmo's and Melkor's domains.

Varda, when sat on her throne on Taniquetil, as long as Manwë was sat beside her, would hear all, even the faintest whisper in the furthest reaches of Eä.

She flinched, looking briefly at her husband, but his gaze was far away. And still, her ears rang with the sounds that echoed from Beleriand.

"What is this?" She finally asked, stamping down the urge to flee from her throne. "I have never heard him like this."

It took Manwë a bit to turn to her, eyes having trouble to focus on her. "He writhes as if on fire, eternally."

"This is nothing we have ever been able to do to him, or anyone." In the end, she retreated from her seat, fleeing the sound of her law-brother in indescribable agony. "Still, none of of his would be able to do it, assuming they'd dare betray him after his absence."

"Virilomë." She had to pull her spouse from his throne, and the sight of his twin in suffering. He blinked a few times when she had him standing in the middle of their great hall. "A Void-being. That would be the only thing able to put him in this state."

"She still lives in Namó's Halls, from what I heard." The Lady of the Stars stated. Despite it being a while since the incident, it seemed the giant spiderlike being had decided the Halls of her 'sister' and said sister's spouse suited her just fine.

"A visit is in order, for sure." Her husband, meanwhile, seemed to calm down without direct knowledge of his brother's suffering. She hummed in agreement, following him to the Halls of Mandos.

"Welcome." They were only greeted by the master of the Halls of the Slain, who tilted his head some.

"Could we speak to your guest?" Varda asked evenly, inclining her head some when he lead them into Vairë's wing.

"Ah..." The Weaver looked away from her most recent in-progress work when the visitors entered. "What can I be of aid with?"

"Virilomë." Namó looked up, where the ceiling was obscured by physical nothing. "They would speak to you, if you don't mind."

Chittering answered him, long legs appearing in view as the void-being descended.

"The Lady Virilomë asks what she can assist with." The two Aratar only now noticed Fëanáro's mother beside Vairë's loom.

"In your battle with my law-brother, did you do aught to him that could be lasting?" Varda felt a faint desire to up the light-level in the room as the form settled carefully against the far wall.

"She confirms that it might well have been lasting, though she states she is not sure, as it is the first time she fought with someone that did not die within moments." Came the obliging translation.

"He seems to be in agony, permanently." Manwë ground out, sounding as if the air had to put in effort to carry the words.

There was silence for a time, before a single creak answered him. "Her poison, she suspects." Míriel flinched as the void-being continued. "She managed a few glancing blows with it."

"And her poison attacks the metaphysical." Namó whispered. "If he does not discard his fana, he'll be unable to outlast it."

"Would he discard his fana for this?" Vairë folded her hands in her lap, eyes faintly pitying when she looked at the Elder King.

"Surely he'd have tried that, already?" They'd come on his suffering late, so he could have tried to before they noticed. "The first thing I'd do if something like this happened would be to discard my fana." The Queen of the Valar felt the mortal urge to fidget.

"Unless he has bound himself to his fana earlier and can't break that bond now."

"We need to confer with Estë about this." Namó declared. "I will fetch her."