A Walk in the Glen -- Part 1

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Shawn Daysleeper and AelKennyr Rhiano

Ulmo, Lord of the Waters

Swifly came Ulmo, Lord of the Sea, in attendance with his two most trusted Maiar, Osse and Uinen. His brow was furrowed, and heavy was the sorrow that weighed upon him, for though he spoke not of his heart nor of his thoughts, still upon his visage could the Lady of the Sea see the effect that the summons of the Lord of the West had upon this, his most trusted friend and brother Vala.

To Ilmarin, Manwë's halls on the summit of Taniquetil in the Pelóri mountains did Ulmo speed, his Maiar in tow, but when he arrived, no Maia stepped forward to greet him.  As the Lord of the Waters looks about him, he sees in their eyes uncertainty and disquiet.  Craning his head about, he turns to the Maia Unien and bids her  to find a Wind and inform his brother, Lord of the West, that Ulmo has come unto Ilmarin and seeks the company of the Breathe of Arda.

Ulmo folds his arms across the expanse of his mighty chest and swishes his tail in some impatience. He had come to halls of the Lord of the West sheathed in the physical form less fearsome to the Children, for few do not quail at the sight of the Lord of the Sea, wreathed in glittering green armor and clothed in the might and fury of the seas.  Now, in this small frame, the air drying the moisture of the sea upon his skin, he glowers about him.  Lady Uinen comes back, floating with the same grace as she has in the sea, a terrified Wind trailing behind her. "My lord," she says, and her voice is soothe, calm, tranquil as a still pond. "Lord Manwe is not in the palace." She looks down. "This handsome Wind tells me that no one knows where he has gone."  Ulmo gives a short grunt and looks about the Maiar who attend the Lord of the West. "Where is Eonwe?" he asks, "Send for the Herald of Manwe."  Lady Uinen shakes her head softly. "My Lord," she answers. "Eonwe is herald no longer."

Manwë Súlimo, High King, Lord of the Breath of Arda

 Manwe Sulimo is troubled in mind and heart.

 He is hurt over his decision to dismiss Eonwe, and remaining in his palace on the mountain is a constant reminder to him that the Maia is no longer at his side. Eonwe's faithful service was a constant luxury to the lord of the West, but no more. Eonwe's absence leaves a hole in his heart. The Lord of the West had departed his palace some time ago, and walks now under the timeless trees on the lower slopes of the mountain. He dismissed Eonwe. He is living with this regret now. But time flows on. His reasoning tells him he needs to assign a replacement for Eonwe, but  he does not have the heart to do so. He misses his herald greatly. Yet the Maia's words of defiance continue to plague the mind of Manwe. The spirit of Manwe had to get away from the palace if only for a while. Revisiting the creation of the Song has a calming effect on Manwe's spirit.

Ulmo stares down at the face of the Lady of the Sea, the mighty face softening into a look of open surprise and disbelief. Now the discord here in the palace of the Lord of the West made sense to Ulmo.  They but reflect the discord which must be in the heart of Manwe himself. Gently he speaks now, to the Wind directly, giving orders in a gentle calming voice. The voice which sung the seas into being now eases the troubled Wind, gave him purpose again, as Ulmo issues orders that, for the time being, put the household of the Lord of the West back in order.  Now the deep sadness he gleamed from the direct summons of Manwe makes clear how deep the pain which has seized Manwe's heart. Once the Maiar were dispatched to their duties, and the Wind had taken himself away, he dismisses Osse and Uinen back to the waters of the world. Closing his eyes, he opens his mind and quests for the touch of the mind of Manwe.

Manwe's mind stirs from its bereft state as he felt the nonmaterial touch of Ulmo. He summons his brother to the woods where he now walks. His spirit feels some relief with his brother's arrival in the Blessed Lands. As a lure, he sought to guide his brother into his presence. Clothing himself in a column of water, Ulmo vanishes from the halls of Manwe and follows, without hesitation, the call of the Lord of the West, tracing easily the source of the summons to a wooded glen at the base of the Pelori Mountains. There, before him, his face lined the heartache and disappointment, stood Manwe. "Hail, Manwe, Lord of the West, much loved king and brother of my heart," greets Ulmo, his own heart squeezing to see such pain of the face of the Breath of Arda.

"Hail, Lord of the Waters." Manwe attempts to regain some composure. "My brother, your words fall upon me who is grieving with loss. My spirit is in turmoil and pain. The likes of which I have not felt in many days. I needed to get away from my palace, at least for a time."

There are those among the Second Born of the Children of Illuvatar who claim that frightful is the gaze of the Lord of the Waters, that his heart is as watery as his seas and as cold, that never would the Third in Might of the Aratar ever feel his heart clench in sympathetic ache for another, but any now looking upon the face of Ulmo would know the sons of man who say such do not know the Spirit of Ulmo. His eyes soften and his great arms stretch out to clasp the Lord of the West in a brother embrace. "My spirit moves with thee, My brother and king, and feels the tidal wave of your pain."

Manwe accepts his brother's embrace gladly. "My spirit may not find rest until he returns. It is a strange feeling, not understanding your gains until they are lost. He was faithful and served with great love, but now I fear he is not himself. Your spirit moves with mine. Long may the day come when our hurt is remedied."

"I..."Ulmo pauses, for once uncertain, and then continues."Tell me what could cause this to be? Since the beginning has Eonwe been by your side. The palace was in upheaval, and your Maiar without direction or purpose in your halls."

"His.. his words of defiance hurt, and caught me off guard. His words stung, as if tipped with poison. I became angry and dismissed him" his hands clench as the memories of that day return to the Lord of the West. "I never foresaw that Eonwe would ever leave my side." His spirit shudders "My palace was in upheaval, he was always there to maintain order. He always gave direction to my maiar. But now, my spirit is in turmoil and so are those that are close to me."

Ulmo feels a groan well up and quickly chokes it off. Not since the betrayal of Melkor has Manwe shown such pain and hurt. "He has been always so, my King." He stops and grows thoughtful, then softly says," Lord Manwe, has Eonwe's heart changed toward you? Has some thing, some affliction seized him, some reason for the change in him?"

"His heart seemed so... cold. He did not show any loyalty to me, or anyone in his presence. Something must had happened to him while away on my errand for his behaviour to have changed so drastically. While his physical form seemed untouched, his maintenance of his form was unkempt. I do not know if some affliction has tainted him."

Listening carefully, Ulmo paces a little back and forth, restless as the sea. "Errand?" he seizes upon the word."What errand, my Lord?  Did he come back from it different, you say?"

Manwe looks up as the Lord of the Seas paces restlessly. "I sent him on an errand to Melkor's old prison when I heard that Aule had been investigating there. Upon returning, Eonwe had changed. I dismissed Eonwe, and suggested to him that he may return after he controlled his emotions and regained his loyalty." He continues to watch his brother pace swimmingly.

Ulmo stops and looks over at Manwe, his eyes narrowing in thought. "To Melkor's prison, the one beneath the halls of Mandos?" He frowns a little."What is of worth there but stone and old tales?" He lifts his gaze and regards the green glen about them. Ever in motion, he continues to speak. "Why was the Maker in the Chambers, my King?"

 Manwe nods. "Yes, Aule went there to investigate the chambers. When I found out he was there, I sent a missive forbidding him to remove any evidence left behind by our fallen brother. However, Eonwe claimed Aule told him he removed the signs before receiving my missive. It was then at that point that Eonwe accused the Maker of defying my orders."

"I cannot picture the Maker defying you, Lord Manwe, " Ulmo answers. "Not knowingly. Perhaps Eonwe misunderstood. Eonwe has always regard carefully and with great, fierce loyalty your honor and dignity, but to the point of defiance?" He shakes his head. "Perhaps there is a sickness in his spirit?"

Manwe nods at Ulmo's words. His thinking is clearer with his brother at his side. He starts to stroll down the path in thought "A sickness? Would that explain defiance? He seemed so certain of himself."

I do not know, Brother and King, but the Vala of Healing would know." He floats along beside his brother, swimming through the air as easily as the waters of the world. "Else it is that Eonwe is right, and yet another of our number has stepped beyond his bounds.  Once before the Maker has misstepped.  It could be he has again."

Manwe nods. "indeed, he has misstepped before." He continues to walk in thought. "The Vala of Healing would know if there is a sickness in his spirit. I admit... I am a little unsure of how to proceed. What do you advise?" He turns to his brother.

Ulmo rubs his chin thoughtfully. The warm air has dried his skin, and the Lord of the Sea finds this body itches once that happens. "The Gentle Lady Estë would be able to heal and restore Eonwe, if a true illness of mind or body had befallen him," he muses, but then he turns troubled eyes to the Lord of the West." You sound unsure of yourself, my King."

Manwe pauses in his walking at Ulmo's words. Over the vast expanse of time he had not ever considered his own certainty. Staring ahead into the multitude of trees before him, he whispers. "Perhaps you are right, dear brother."

That stops Ulmo as he moves alongside the Lord of the West. "Brother," he says, his voice low, a note of surprise. "You cannot see ahead to what will be, can you?  Can you no longer hear the future strains of Song of Creation as it lays still be to be heard?"


((to be continued))