Manwë's Commissions

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Ilianor Illios, Shawn Daysleeper, Lihan Taifun, AelKennyr Rhiano

After Nienna's visit with the cleric, she once again moves into the spirit plane, and returns to the Blessed Lands, seeking her fellow Ainur.  Drifting effortlessly up to the immense heights of Mount Taniquetil, to the halls where the Manwë, the Lord of the West, dwells.  But it is not Manwë for whom she is presently searching, but his herald and banner-bearer, the great warrior Eonwë.  With non-physical senses, she scans the palace of the Mountain, until she locates him.  Here she recreates a body, the better to conduct her errand.

With only the sounds of his heels striking against the marble of the many rooms and open air spaces of the Halls of the Lord of the West.  Eonwe, with a sureness born of the centuries of service to the Greatest of the Valar descends to a lower, tower. His eyes scanned the space, spotting the white pulsating ball of soft light that becomes the form of the Vala of Compassion. With practiced ease, he goes down on knee, saluting her. "Hail, Vala of Compassion, Lady Nienna.  The will of the Valar be done."

Nienna merely says,"Eonwe, I have news."

He rises then, and continues. "I have come as you bid me, my Lady, How may I serve? 

"Eonwe, I need the services of a warrior ... only the smallest of services, compared to what comes ahead.  In the mortal lands, there is a teacher and healer, devoted to the service of Eru Iluvatar, and she has asked this of the Valar, that we bless her sword, so that she may use it in Eru's honor, if need occurs. You are the greatest of the swordsmen.  Can you do this for her?"

Eonwe listens to the Vala of Compassion, his eyes intent upon her as she tells him her request, but an eyebrow rises as she mentions the word "healer."  He bows his head and answer in the deep, resonate, and calm voice that betrays no emotion.  "Surely, my Lady, if one of Children is in need, but Lady Nienna,  a healer feels needs of a blade? Has things deteriorated such that even those who give such service must know the way of the warrior?"

"I fear they have.  War runs across her land.  Although the warriors of her land attempt to protect the healers, as they protect all the innocent, yet she fears she may someday be caught alone and unprotected."

Eonwe draws in a breath, though none he needs, in truth, and gives a small bow to the Vala before him. "I am ever ready to do service as I am called, Gentle Vala of Compassion. And gladly shall I do as this healer has requested.  Indeed, I have been sent to find you, as my Lord Manwe wishes to speak with you as soon as you may be able. Have you the sword this healer wishes to be blessed?"

A tiny smile of relief crosses Nienna's face.  "Yes, she gave this into my hands," she replies as she rolls the sword out of the ether, into this plane of reality.  "She thought she could spare it for a few days, but I would not wish to put that to a test."

With great solemnity, Eonwe reaches out and takes the sword in two sure hands.  He tests the balance of the blade, giving it a few twirls, his wrist deftly swinging the blade in a circle, the steel whistling through the air. "Finely balanced," he comments before he looks over at the Vala.  "I shall, indeed, bequeath a blessing such that the blade shall never break and in the presence of dark foe, creatures of darkness, it shall burn brightly in pale imitation of the Imperishable Flame itself. If you will allow, and my Lord Manwe grant, I should like to deliver the blade unto its owner.  But for now, My Lady, may I escort you to the throne of the Lord of West?"

 Nienna smiles in appreciation, watching Eonwe as she would any master of a craft.  "Thank you for giving this matter your attention.  If you wish to return the blade, then please do so.  'Dominique of Sylvhara' is her name.  She can no doubt tell you more of the war than I could.  Yes, now I am pleased to accompany you to Lord Manwe."

Eonwe slips the blade beneath his voluminous dark cloak, the blade disappearing. "If it is pleasing to the Lord of the West, I should like to visit this Child of Illuvatar."  Then he bows his head once, in respect, and extends his arm  "I shall guide you, Lady Nienna," he answers, extending his arm and giving a small smile that was respectful, although his facial expression nor gaze betrayed other than complete calm.

In a blink of the eye, they were transported to a large room in Manwe's great palace. There they beheld the Maia of the North Wind and the Lord of the West, dancing gracefully upon the winds of the world to music of incredible beauty.

"Do you feel better now, My Lord?" Ainome asks Manwe, as Eonwe and Nienna watch the Lord of the West dance upon the breath of the world with the Maia of the North Wind.

Manwe nods. "I do feel better now."

Eonwe quietly clears his throat and kneels, patiently awaiting the notice of the Lord of the West. Nienna stands quietly and respectfully to the side, not wishing to interupt.

"Welcome, Lady Nienna, " greeted  Ainome.

  "Eonwe," says Manwe, a slight smile emerges on his lips. "I am glad you have returned. and Lady Nienna. Please rise."

As Manwe and Ainmone float gracefully down to the floor of the room, the Maia explains, "I was singing a song and dancing with Lord Manwe. He has a heaviness in his heart."

Eonwe smoothly rises to his feet.  "My Lord, the Lady Nienna, as you have requested.  Eonwe offers the Maia a gentle smile, a warmth entering briefly  into his blue eyes.

Nienna steps forward. "My lord, you asked to see me?" To the Maia, Nienna whispers," I am sure you were a great comfort to Lord Manwe, in these dark times."

Manwe turns and walks to his throne.  "Please, let us sit."

"Please, Eonwe, sit, " beckons Ainome.

 Eonwe shook his head gently. "Nay, gentle Wind. Do you, please, sit." He smiles as he quietly takes his place to the right of Manwe's throne.

Manwe spoke as Eonwe took his position, and the Vala and Maia sat on either side of his immense throne. "Thank you for coming Lady Nienna. Lord Eonwe mentioned to me that you have just returned from the world of the Children."

Nienna settles gracefully into the seat at Manwe's left. "Lord Irmo and I have spent many weeks there, at the home of the Teleri.  I have also visited the healer who presided at the Teleri king's healing, at her own home."

Eonwe listens attentively to the words of the Vala of Compassion, her voice mingling with the dulcet tones of the harp which even now, Ainome is playing, her fingers deft and sure upon the strings.  He casts a sidewise, brief look at the Lord of the West, knowing the matter of Olwe of Alqualonde has concerned him deeply these past months.

"This healer's skill must be great indeed if she was able to cure the Teleri King. I trust he is on the mend?" asks Manwe.

"Lady Este helped a great deal.  And Lord Namo refused him entry into Mandos."  Her eyes cloud at the memory.  "He is much recovered now, and renewed in his resolve to do whatever the Valar ask of him, against the rising darkness."

Eonwe quietly gives a sigh of relief.  The Matter of Olwe has been of great concern, as he well knew.  That it should fall upon the shoulders of the gentle Lord of Alqualonde to be the Hope of the Valar is a part of the Great Song beyond the understanding of the Chief of the Maia, although long had he spent great discussion with Ilmare, the Handmaiden of Varda, she who also is Chief among the Maia.  Carefully has he listened to the words of the Breath of Arda, and knew the troubled heart of the Lord of the West.

"Olwe, the Teleri king, is a beacon of hope for the Children. This attack, though, concerns me that there may be other instances of darkness. Have you or your brother heard of other rumors of darkness?"

"Alas, when I spoke to the healer, she said her own homeland is filled with war." She pauses.  Then Nienna continues. "Eonwe will be speaking with her soon, and I do not doubt he will understand the situation better than I."

Eonwe shifts a little, his eyes briefly resting upon the Lady Nienna as she mentions war.  "That is, Lord of the West, if I have your leave to do so. The healer has asked for a blade blessed by my hand." He bows his head respectfully. "What is the will of  My Lord?"

Manwe listens. He hears about wars often from the realms of the Children, but he felt inclined to pursue this report further. "Her homeland, where is her homeland, Lady Nienna?"

"It is called "Sylvhara", one of the mortal lands."

Ainome stops playing, hearing mention of war. Manwe turns to Eonwe for a moment. "Sylvhara." He stops for a moment in thought. "Does not Olwe's cousin rule that land?"

"Yes, my Lord, his Cousin, Comet, is their Queen. Her father was kin to the Lord of Alqualonde, you may recall, My  Lord."

Manwe nods. "While it may be coincidence, learning of war in Sylvhara may lead to an attack against Comet herself. The darkness may seek her out since the attack on Olwe was foiled."

"The land is filled with many strange creatures, and many strange ideas.  Eru is held in little regard by most," Nienna says.

Now Eonwe's eyes widen slightly at surprise, and he  looks openly at the Lady Nienna. Nienna suppresses a giggle.  "There are those who say that Tilion is a dancing young woman."

The corners of Eonwe's lips twitched slightly.  His old comrade...a dancing maiden.  This he will have to share with the Steersman of the moon.

Manwe turns to Ainome. "Please, play for us again."

"Yes, my Lord,"she answers.  "I was thinking of a song." Quickly her fingers begin to strum across the strings of the harp.

Nienna continues, "And there are dragons living there, dragons who rejected the dark one."

Mournfully, Ainome says, "Now I know why your heart is heavy, my Lord."

The Vala of Compassion turns to the gentle North Wind. "Alas, dear Ainome, there is much darkness in the world these days."

Ainome starts to sing a song. "For your lovely heart, Lady Nienna," she says:

"I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls

with vassals and serfs at my side,

and of all who assembled within those walls that I was the hope and the pride.

I had riches all too great to count

and a high ancestral name.

But I also dreamt which pleased me most that you loved me still the same,

that you loved me.

You loved me still the same,

that you loved me

you loved me still the same.

I dreamt that suitors sought my hand,

that knights upon bended knee

and with vows no maidens heart could withstand,

they pledged their faith to me.

And I dreamt that one of that noble host

came forth my hand to claim.

But I also dreamt which charmed me most

that you loved me still the same

that you loved me

you loved me still the same,

that you loved me

you loved me still the same

As always, the music sweeps through Eonwe, and his heart tightens at the soulful voice of the Maia. Without pause, she launches into another song:

"áva ninaë, ilya na mara. (Don't cry, all is good.)

rucinya ranqui, á niësenda. (Take refuge in my arms, be at peace.)

náinye elya varno, inya melda. (I am your protector, my beloved)

áva ninaë, sino náinye. (Don't cry, here I am.)

tér pitya ananta tér polda! (So small but yet so strong!)

hepinyë elye varna ar lauca. (I keep you safe and warm.)

elva vére nava hantë lala. (Our bond will be never-ever torn asunder.)

áva ninaë, sino náinye. (Don't cry, here I am.)

mi inya órë (In my heart)

elye mi inya órë.  (You are in my heart)

melmë vora tenna Ambar-metta. (Love endures until the end of the world.)

mi inya órë (In my heart)

aiqua martë (Whatever happens)

elye mi inya órë (You are in my heart.)

tenn'oio (Always)

elva melmë ente áva hanya. (Our love they don't understand.)

áva estente úistima. (They don't trust the unknowable.)

elve nar úovëa, nan núra minna (We are unalike, but deep inside)

elva hóni opalpa inqua. (Our hearts beat together the same.)

Nienna relaxes at the soothing sound of Ainome's song. Manwe sits in thought, listening to those around him. He turns to Eonwe first. "I grant your leave to visit the healer and finish your errand with her. I think we need to learn more of what is happening in Sylvhara."

Eonwe bows his head. "I thank you, My Lord.  Shall I ask her about the state of things in Sylvahara?"

 "You could." He turns to Nienna. "But I would also send you and your brother to Sylvhara as well to speak with their Queen. We should seek to discover from Comet more about the conflicts that threaten their peace."

Nienna nods solemnly.  "Yes, Lord, as you wish."

From his place by the throne of Manwe, the Herald of the Lord of the West studies the face of his beloved Lord and King, noting the tilt of his head, his cadence, his tone.  He notes how Manwe bows his head as he speaks and his heart give a lurch at the thoughts which may be heavy upon Manwe's mind.  He quietly asks, "Is it your will, my Lord, that I go first to this healer, rather than to Aule in Mandos' hall?"

Nienna looks up at the mention of Aule's name, a silent question in her eyes.

Manwe nods. "Eonwe, this healer helped save Olwe and brought him back to the light. Comet is also dear to him, I think that he would despair if something happened to her. Aule can manage his investigation himself a little longer."

Eonwe bows his head and murmurs, "As my Lord wills, Breath of Arda."

Manwe looks to Nienna. "Aule is currently investigating Melkor's old prision under the Halls of Mandos."

Nienna frowns.  The memory of that imprisonment was painful.  She had believed Melkor to be reformed, and argued for his release, and she had been proven terribly wrong.

Manwe nods to everyone. "Thank you for answering my summons.   "May Eru's grace be with us."

"May it be so,"  and adds under her breath, "We will need it."

Quietly, Ainome is singing:

"I lúme utúlie,

A tirno Silmarillion,

Tienna narwa

No rocco néca,

Yan i esse ná Qualme, -

Wilie haiyave

Númenna Wisto,

Ardallo melima.

Vainolelya unqua

Ar macilya rusta

Loráva nenessen

I caituvar ńalle.

Ve laurea anna,

Hroalya racina

Antalye nóren

Sa varyane li

Ná carna nilmonen

Tyarda avatyarima,

An nar cotumor qualini,

Naina, Valariande,

An i calwo ná firin,

Ar elenu vinye

Úsiluvar eldain.

Nán i Raice na cuine

Eonwe listens, spellbound, the words clear to his troubled heart:

"Hour has come,

O guard of Silmarils,

Onto road fiery-red

On a pale horse,

Whose name is Death -

To fly far,

To the West of the Sky,

From dear Arda.

Your empty sheath

And broken sword

Will sleep in the waters,

That will cover the dale.

Like a golden gift,

Your broken body

Are you giving to lands

That you were protecting.

Is made by friend

Unmakable deed,

For foes are dead,

But Marring is alive.

Weep, Beleriand,

For the hero is dead,

And two new stars

Will not shine for Eldar

Eonwe bows his head at the mention of Eru Illuvatar and draws in a breath.  So seldom has he been from his Lord's side.  For a moment, he is reluctant to leave.  He  watches as the Vala Nienna responds, and finds himself in agreement.   Patiently he waits by Manwe's side, and whispers softly. "My Lord, it pains me to leave your side, knowing the trouble in your heart. " Rare it is for Eonwe to speak so, his voice husky. "I go with all speed as you direct, but my Lord, suffer your herald to express that he shall miss standing at your throne while he is away."  Then he clears his throat, and the unrevealing face of the Herald is once more in place.

Nienna rises, and bows formally to the Lord of the West.  Then she vanishes, returning to her assignments in the mortal world.

Ainome bows his head to bid Eönwë and Lady  Nienna goodbye, though her fingers never falter.

Eonwe, too, moves from his Lord's side, crosses to stand before the Lord of the West, bows in respect from the waist, intones, "May the Will of Manwe direct my steps," and turns to leave.

The Herald of Manwe strides from the hall, the steady gait of a warrior and walks, companionless, to his own residence, there on the Holy Mountain.  Before entering, he glances up where once the morning star could clearly be seen.  That patch of the heavens is now dark.  His eyes scan the skies, face unreadable, before he walks in, shucking off his cape, his swords, his bracers.

He steps out of his private armoury into the main hallway and pauses for a moment, reflecting on Nienna's words. War.  War comes to the Children. Darkness again halls. Not even hearlers are safe this time. 

And the eyes of Manwe looked as though they held a thousand sorrows.  Perhaps, Eonwe thinks, his heart again a rebel against his leaving the side of the Lord of the West, perhaps they do hold a thousand sorrows.

Perhaps they do.

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