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The Lord of the West meets with Yavanna in his hall on the bright morning. Manwë had met with Yavanna on the previous day and discussed the situation about the Maker and Eonwë. Now he stands resolutely with his promise he made yesterday. He wanted to hear Eonwë's side of the story.
Yavanna's eyes feel dry and gritty as she sat now in Manwë's throne room. The beauty and elegance of her surroundings were lost upon her for she could not recall when last her body had rested well. Despite every comfort being available for her here in her room at Manwë's palace, still she had not slept well, kept awake and restless by the swirling of her troubled thoughts. Now she sat with the Lord of the West as they prepared to discuss the odd behavior of her spouse and Manwë's herald. She lifts a hand to squeeze the bridge of her nose to ease some of the tension there before looking up at Manwë. Beside him stood the loyal Ilmare, and she smiles a tired smile at the Maia before addressing the one whom they both revere. "What shall we do, my Lord? Have you thought on what is best to do?"
Ilmarë waits upon her lord and the Lady Yavanna. She stands quietly, saying nothing, but listening to everything they say with close attention. She prays silently to Eru that they may all have wisdom today.
Thoughts go through Manwë's head. The recent time has worn heavily on the Lord of the West. He foresaw none of this coming. The possible betrayal of the Maker, one of their own, remains a shock to him. His loss of foresight worries him even further. But then, his judgment upon Eonwë may even be false. As time passes, it seems that he, the Lord of the West, acted incorrectly. He has to know the truth, from Eonwë and soon. "Yes, I have thought about this, and I want to speak to my Herald, Eonwë, now."
Yavanna asks, "Then shall we send for him?"
Manwe nods. "Yes, please send for him," he replies nervously.
Ilmarë bows her head, "Would you have me go, my lord? To find my brother."
Manwe looks at the Maia before him and nods. "Go, please find your brother, and bring him before me." He bows his head slightly as if dismissing her to search.
Ilmarë bows and goes in search of the Herald. Yavanna watches Varda's handmaiden depart upon her errand, her eyes thoughtful. Finally as the doors close behind her retreating figure, Yavanna turns her eyes back to the one seated nearby, noting the lines of worry that crease his brow. Of them all, Manwë had always shouldered the most responsibility, she had always thought, but always he had handled this with assurance and wisdom. Now though, he seemed careworn and.. uncertain, almost. Gently she reaches out a hand to him, resting it on his forearm, "These troubles, they tug at your heart, do they not, my Lord?"
Manwë turns to Yavanna seated beside him and takes her hand, nodding. "These troubles do tug at my heart, while perhaps they should not." He did not share all of his thoughts, that he feels like he is losing the gift of foresight. He looks up with a stronger look. "I hope that he does come."
Yavanna's smile is gentle as she squeezes his hand encouragingly, "You would not be who you are if you did not let your heart have its say from time to time. The best of leaders must have compassion for those about them. Eonwë has ever been by your side as.. as Aulë has been by mine." She pauses a moment and looks down to where her hand holds his, and her voice is soft with her pain when she continues. "We cannot stop our hearts being tugged. Let us hope that there will be some explanation for the madness that seems to have overtaken those we love."
As soon as she is out of the lord's chambers, Ilmarë breaks into a run. At last, Lord Manwë wants to speak with her brother! Perhaps they will finally discover what has gone wrong. Perhaps they will even reconcile. She hopes so.
She takes the steps up to Eonwë's front door two at a time. She hammers on the door. "Brother! Brother! Lord Manwë wishes to speak with you! Come quickly!" But instead of the greeting she expects, there is silence. "Brother? ...Eonwë?" She pushes open the door to the house that was at one time like her own home. All is still. The front room is empty, so she slips into the central chamber, looking about for signs of life. She hears no footfall, no voice. "Eonwë?"
There is no sign of Eonwë in his chambers at all. Might he be at the training grounds? Sometimes he goes there to clear his mind when he has been too long in the confines of his home, worrying over his troubles. Not wishing to delay further by going to seek for him there in person, she sends out her thought, searching for his mind among those of the other Ainur. His mind is easy to distinguish--a bright flame even when he is distressed.
She frowns. She can feel nothing of him near at hand. How is that possible? She looks quickly into each of the other rooms of Eonwë's home, in case she has missed something. As she does so, she calls to him on the plane of thought, but receives no reply.
Now Ilmarë begins to be worried. She must tell her lord. Where is Eonwë, now that he is needed?
Manwë nods at Yavanna's words. "There must be some explanation for this madness. But why have I failed to see this coming before it affects those who have served with love? We must get to the bottom of this and soon"
Yavanna draws back a little at his words, her brow furrowed. "You did not see this, my Lord? No indication at all?"
Manwe shakes his head slowly. "Something clouds my vision, but that does not mean we cannot act. Whomever has caused this madness to appear among those we love will have a lot to answer for," he says strongly.
Deep in thought at his words, Yavanna rakes her fingers through her hair, hair that seemed always windblown and restless, carrying the scent of spring blossoms, soft moss and clean earth upon its strands. Yes, he was right, she realizes. There was no need to foresee in order to take action. They were Valar, after all, the creations of Eru and not without some power and strength. Thoughtfully she nods her head, tucking a wayward strand of that restless hair behind an ear as she looks again at Manwë and nods. "You are right. They will have a lot to answer for." Impatiently she looks toward the door. Surely the Herald, when he comes, will have some answer.
Following Yavanna's gaze to the door, Manwë waits in anticipation at the return of his herald. Perhaps soon, more will be revealed by his words.
There are quick footfalls in the hall, and then Ilmarë enters, alone and somewhat out of breath. She crosses to the foot of the throne and drops to one knee. "My lord!" she gasps. "He is not here!"
Manwë's eyes widen at Ilmare's return and message. Standing, he asks "not there? Where is he then?" In his words there is a tone of dismay and worry. Where could he be? he thinks.
Yavanna's eyes turn the hue of deep shade in a summer forest as she hears the Maia's words before they narrow thoughtfully. "My Lord," she begins, "I think I may know the answer to that."
Too out of breath to speak, Ilmarë merely fixes her eyes on the Lady Yavanna, hoping that she has an answer. Manwë turns to Yavanna waits intently for her to continue.
Yavanna's cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink as she explains, "When I encountered Eonwë upon the path to Taniquetil and we spoke, I exhorted him to do all that he could to make you believe his words. It occurs to me now that where I intended for him to speak with you, he may instead have gone in search of proof of his veracity." She pauses and lifts her eyes to those of her Lord as she says, "I think he may have gone to seek my Aulë. I think he has gone to Mandos."
Ilmarë looks up sharply. She takes a deep breath. "Mandos. He would. I think he would."
Manwë looks over Yavanna after she finishes speaking. While another time he may have inquired further of why she had not brought this to him before, but things have changed. He has changed. Today is not the day to sit on his high seat and sort these events out mentally. It is a day to act. He takes the hand of Yavanna and Ilmare. "Today, we go to Mandos. I understand now this is something that should have been done before now. It is time to bring our loved ones home."
> Next
The Lord of the West meets with Yavanna in his hall on the bright morning. Manwë had met with Yavanna on the previous day and discussed the situation about the Maker and Eonwë. Now he stands resolutely with his promise he made yesterday. He wanted to hear Eonwë's side of the story.
Yavanna's eyes feel dry and gritty as she sat now in Manwë's throne room. The beauty and elegance of her surroundings were lost upon her for she could not recall when last her body had rested well. Despite every comfort being available for her here in her room at Manwë's palace, still she had not slept well, kept awake and restless by the swirling of her troubled thoughts. Now she sat with the Lord of the West as they prepared to discuss the odd behavior of her spouse and Manwë's herald. She lifts a hand to squeeze the bridge of her nose to ease some of the tension there before looking up at Manwë. Beside him stood the loyal Ilmare, and she smiles a tired smile at the Maia before addressing the one whom they both revere. "What shall we do, my Lord? Have you thought on what is best to do?"
Ilmarë waits upon her lord and the Lady Yavanna. She stands quietly, saying nothing, but listening to everything they say with close attention. She prays silently to Eru that they may all have wisdom today.
Thoughts go through Manwë's head. The recent time has worn heavily on the Lord of the West. He foresaw none of this coming. The possible betrayal of the Maker, one of their own, remains a shock to him. His loss of foresight worries him even further. But then, his judgment upon Eonwë may even be false. As time passes, it seems that he, the Lord of the West, acted incorrectly. He has to know the truth, from Eonwë and soon. "Yes, I have thought about this, and I want to speak to my Herald, Eonwë, now."
Yavanna asks, "Then shall we send for him?"
Manwe nods. "Yes, please send for him," he replies nervously.
Ilmarë bows her head, "Would you have me go, my lord? To find my brother."Manwe looks at the Maia before him and nods. "Go, please find your brother, and bring him before me." He bows his head slightly as if dismissing her to search.
Ilmarë bows and goes in search of the Herald. Yavanna watches Varda's handmaiden depart upon her errand, her eyes thoughtful. Finally as the doors close behind her retreating figure, Yavanna turns her eyes back to the one seated nearby, noting the lines of worry that crease his brow. Of them all, Manwë had always shouldered the most responsibility, she had always thought, but always he had handled this with assurance and wisdom. Now though, he seemed careworn and.. uncertain, almost. Gently she reaches out a hand to him, resting it on his forearm, "These troubles, they tug at your heart, do they not, my Lord?"
 |
| Yavanna |
As soon as she is out of the lord's chambers, Ilmarë breaks into a run. At last, Lord Manwë wants to speak with her brother! Perhaps they will finally discover what has gone wrong. Perhaps they will even reconcile. She hopes so.
She takes the steps up to Eonwë's front door two at a time. She hammers on the door. "Brother! Brother! Lord Manwë wishes to speak with you! Come quickly!" But instead of the greeting she expects, there is silence. "Brother? ...Eonwë?" She pushes open the door to the house that was at one time like her own home. All is still. The front room is empty, so she slips into the central chamber, looking about for signs of life. She hears no footfall, no voice. "Eonwë?"
There is no sign of Eonwë in his chambers at all. Might he be at the training grounds? Sometimes he goes there to clear his mind when he has been too long in the confines of his home, worrying over his troubles. Not wishing to delay further by going to seek for him there in person, she sends out her thought, searching for his mind among those of the other Ainur. His mind is easy to distinguish--a bright flame even when he is distressed.
She frowns. She can feel nothing of him near at hand. How is that possible? She looks quickly into each of the other rooms of Eonwë's home, in case she has missed something. As she does so, she calls to him on the plane of thought, but receives no reply.
Now Ilmarë begins to be worried. She must tell her lord. Where is Eonwë, now that he is needed?
Manwë nods at Yavanna's words. "There must be some explanation for this madness. But why have I failed to see this coming before it affects those who have served with love? We must get to the bottom of this and soon"Yavanna draws back a little at his words, her brow furrowed. "You did not see this, my Lord? No indication at all?"
Manwe shakes his head slowly. "Something clouds my vision, but that does not mean we cannot act. Whomever has caused this madness to appear among those we love will have a lot to answer for," he says strongly.
Deep in thought at his words, Yavanna rakes her fingers through her hair, hair that seemed always windblown and restless, carrying the scent of spring blossoms, soft moss and clean earth upon its strands. Yes, he was right, she realizes. There was no need to foresee in order to take action. They were Valar, after all, the creations of Eru and not without some power and strength. Thoughtfully she nods her head, tucking a wayward strand of that restless hair behind an ear as she looks again at Manwë and nods. "You are right. They will have a lot to answer for." Impatiently she looks toward the door. Surely the Herald, when he comes, will have some answer. |
| Ilmarë |
There are quick footfalls in the hall, and then Ilmarë enters, alone and somewhat out of breath. She crosses to the foot of the throne and drops to one knee. "My lord!" she gasps. "He is not here!"
Manwë's eyes widen at Ilmare's return and message. Standing, he asks "not there? Where is he then?" In his words there is a tone of dismay and worry. Where could he be? he thinks.Yavanna's eyes turn the hue of deep shade in a summer forest as she hears the Maia's words before they narrow thoughtfully. "My Lord," she begins, "I think I may know the answer to that."
Too out of breath to speak, Ilmarë merely fixes her eyes on the Lady Yavanna, hoping that she has an answer. Manwë turns to Yavanna waits intently for her to continue.
Yavanna's cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink as she explains, "When I encountered Eonwë upon the path to Taniquetil and we spoke, I exhorted him to do all that he could to make you believe his words. It occurs to me now that where I intended for him to speak with you, he may instead have gone in search of proof of his veracity." She pauses and lifts her eyes to those of her Lord as she says, "I think he may have gone to seek my Aulë. I think he has gone to Mandos."
Ilmarë looks up sharply. She takes a deep breath. "Mandos. He would. I think he would."
Manwë looks over Yavanna after she finishes speaking. While another time he may have inquired further of why she had not brought this to him before, but things have changed. He has changed. Today is not the day to sit on his high seat and sort these events out mentally. It is a day to act. He takes the hand of Yavanna and Ilmare. "Today, we go to Mandos. I understand now this is something that should have been done before now. It is time to bring our loved ones home."
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