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"Halt!" booms the voice of the Breath of Arda. His voice echoes through the chamber. Never before has he witnessed the act of a Maiar raising his hand against a Vala. Eonwe, what has happened to him? Manwe thinks to himself. Catching him in this act reaffirms his suspicion that perhaps Eonwe is the one responsible. But he remembers the wall and the dead elf outside with the corrupted plants within. Aule's wall. He sees them both before him now. Finally he will have the answers for his troubled soul. "I command you to halt your hand, Eonwe!" Manwe shouts.
There had been times through the Ages when Yavanna's travels had led her to the far north of the world. Her feet had trod the grinding ice of Helcaraxe. Her skin had felt the bitter, biting cold. Her lungs had breathed air so cold it had felt like needles within her chest. But the cold she felt now, as she stood beside the Lord of the West deep under the Halls of Mandos came from within. It seemed to seep through her veins like an invidious poison, stealing through her body, through her limbs, through her mind and heart until she felt no more than a sculpture of ice, frozen from within, numb, unfeeling. The illusion shatters as Manwë's voice booms forth, and she flinches as the pain comes rushing back.
Eonwe freezes in mid-motion, hand raised. Slowly, as though in a dream, the Maia turns his head in the direction of the sound of voice, eyes widening as he beholds his Lord, the Breath of Arda. "Manwe," he breathes, feeling his heart pounding hard in his chest. The word is a prayer, a sound of hope, a heartrending sound. He stands there, his eyes locking onto Manwe's for several painful heartbeats. "My Lord," he whisper, and his vision blurs from the tears that suddenly spring to his eyes.
Aule whirls at the sound of Manwë's voice. So intent had he been on his confrontation with Eonwë that he had not even noticed the approach of the others, but now there in the doorway stood the very Breath of Arda himself and beside him, "Yavanna!" For a moment his heart leaps as it has always done upon first sight of her, and then the bleakness closes in upon it again.
At the commanding voice, Nienna turns halfway, not releasing her protective grasp on Aule. Her tear-filled emerald eyes widen as she recognizes Manwe. At his side is Aule's whining wife. Nienna pauses, frowning uncomprehendingly at this latest intrusion, which is further unsettling this hideous day.
Manwë nods as Eonwe obeys his command, and the others gape in surprise. He takes the moment to gaze over his surroundings. He had rushed down here, preoccupied, and had not paid too much attention to the feeling in the air. Now, as he stands on the threshold of the chamber, the energies around him are strong. The feeling is like that he felt around the otherworldly flowers he and Yavanna exterminated such a short time ago. But this, this is even more evil. He senses a small movement at his side. Yavanna is stepping forward into the room, but he holds his arm out to block her. "Wait," he says to her. "There is an evil here. It is so strong" he continues, his voice deep with foreboding, "I sense his dark energy, the dark magic of my fallen brother."
Yavanna had been drawn forward unthinking. Like the moth drawn to the flame that will ultimately destroy it, she had been drawn closer to the surreal scene before her and had moved unthinking. She blinks as the import of Manwë's words pierce the fog of pain that had encompassed her mind. Now she lifts her head and extends her senses. "You are right!" she gasps and her mind recoils from the cloying fetidness of what she feels roiling within the chamber. It was almost tangible. She lifts a hand as though to reach out and touch it and her gaze falls again upon those in the room. "They are in there. They have been in there a long time." She resolutely closes her mind to the thought of just how long her husband may have been there with Nienna. "Even Eonwë was there before you dismissed him." She turns to look at Manwë, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Could this be why? Could this be why Aulë spoke to me so? Could this be why your beloved Herald behaved as he did?"
Eonwe drops his hand and turns his back upon the Maker, his eyes still locked upon the face of the Breath of Arda. Forgotten was Aule. Forgotten was Nienna. He takes a shallow breath, his chest tight, heart pounding. In his ears, there is a popping. He steps away, the traitors forgotten. Slowly, he bows his head and kneels. The words, well known and used throughout the centuries, fall from his lips, all the pain, hope, longing for the world he had known to be once more as he slowly sinks to his knees. "The will of the Valar be done," he says softly.
Aule watches incredulously as Eonwë sinks to his knees before Manwë. His lip curls in disdain at what he considered blatant groveling on the Maia's part. But Manwë was here now. Now he had a chance to be heard, to be believed. He was not going to let this lick-boot puppy provoke him into spoiling that. Folding his arms upon his chest he remains silent. For now.
Manwe nods thoughtfully in response to Yavanna's questions. His face shows concern for his beloved Herald kneeling now before him. He is also anxious for Aule's condition. The evil in the chamber is very strong. How long have they been exposed before he finally realised it? "I will get to the bottom of the cause of their behaviour very soon," he says to her and then turns to address the occupants of the chamber. "But for now, all of you must leave the chamber. I will not have you exposed to the malevolence any longer. I suspect my brother," he spits the word out distastefully, "has much to answer for. It is time to end this now!" Manwe says in a commanding voice.
Aule is unable to remain silent any longer. His voice sneering, he demands, "To end what? Disrespect on the part of this puppy who would raise his hand to one of the Valar? Treachery on his part who would draw blade in my presence? The doubting of a Lord of his loyal servant as you have doubted I? Yes, it is time it ended. Time it ended with the truth."
Gracefully, slowly, Eonwe rises fo his feet, He turns and regards the Maker. his eyes veiled, the emotion sliding from his face and a cold appraisal turns the blue of the eyes into glittering hard sapphires. Then he steps back, his mouth a hard thin line. He turns on his heel, the look he flashes Yavanna full of sympathy, understanding for her pain. Smoothly, lowering his gaze, he crosses the room towards his Beloved Lord and the visibly stricken Lady Yavanna.
Nienna hovers uncertainly, torn between millenia of habit of obeying the Lord of the West, and Aule's obvious scorn. Yet if the impudent Eonwe is following Manwe's orders, she has no desire to imitate him. Biting her lip, she stands in place, looking back and forth from Aule to Manwe.
Yavanna can do little but stand in stunned silence by Manwë's side, her mind struggling to take in all she sees and hears. The words spoke by her husband seem those of a stranger. Never had she thought to hear him speak in such a tone to the Breath of Arda himself. Her green eyes flick from one to the other of the occupants of the chamber, not knowing what madness was going to come from their lips next.
Manwe's solemn eyes pass from Aule and Nienna. Turning to the one who came first, he smiles gently,
"Beloved Herald, I see now that there is more to what you were trying to tell me." Manwe reaches his hand out to him. "Take my hand and join me. I want to hear fully what you have to say to me, and I will listen. Come, Eonwe, come, my beloved Herald, come stand at my side again."
Eonwe , once Herald for the Breath of Arda, a Maia still of his house, stops at the entrance of the cavernous chamber. Smoothly he reaches back and grabs the hilt of a elegantly designed dagger. Thin is the blade and sharp, the weight of it balanced to perfection. With a fluid motion, battle trained, he whirls about, and he send the dagger flying hilt over handle to land, solidly between Aule's bare feet. He boldly stare at Aule and then turns back to the Lord of the West. "My Lord, "he says, and bows his head. "I raised my hand to the smith. I drew blade in his presence. To this I confess freely. What need I to lie to he who knows my mind..." he pauses and looks up at Manwe, his eyes soft with his pain, his love, his anguish. " I have no need of deceit, nor wish to betray the Lord I revere with all I am. "
"By the imperishable Flame, I stand before you, my Lord, and say to you that gladly will I submit me to your judgment. How can it be I would do else? But, Lord of Arda, I came here, still your loyal servant. I came here, determined to know and see for myself, the darkness in the Maker's heart. I came so that if he plotted foul treachery, I could stand betwixt you and his villainy. Well, Lord, I remember the sorrow in your heart when Melkor sought to destroy all that Eru brought into being through the Great Song, in which.." he whirls and looks directly at Aule, "...in which we ALL have our part, Valar and Maiar, Children of Eru and all creations of Yavanna." He raises a hand and points a forefinger at Aule, looking back at Lord Manwe, "And I tell thee, my gracious and sovereign Lord, that this one has so corrupted and besmirched his own self, his own perfection, blessed by Eru as he is, and has led another who should see with eyes of gentleness the suffering they have both visited upon the Maia who only wish to serve. " He drops his hand and takes a step to the Lord of Arda. "So, do with me as you will. I am yours, as ever, but my Lord, I cry justice for the Maia so ill used and demeaned that they have forgotten who,and what, they truly are."
Yavanna's gasps as Eonwë whirls unexpectedly and sends the sharp blade hurtling towards her husband. She sags with relief, clutching Manwë's arm for support as it lands harmlessly between his feet.
Aule stares down at the dagger between his feet a moment and then looks up at the arrogantly turned back of the Herald before his eyes shift past him to look into those of the Lord of the West. "Did you see that! Did you see his insolence? The puppy has risen above himself! He flatters you with his sweet words, but surely his actions speak louder." His voice is a roar of offended pride. "Listen to me! Please, I beseech you, hear me, Brother!"
Nienna jumps back as the dagger lands at Aule's feet. Enraged at this latest insult, she bends down and scoops up the knife. Clutching it angrily, she marches to Manwe. Holding it, point up, before him, she fumes, "See what your 'Herald' has done, and continues to do! Why do we continue to suffer his insolence?".
Listening with care to Eonwe's argument, Manwe continues to hold his hand to Eonwe. "You have come to me, Beloved Herald." He smiles gently "Judgement will be passed to he that requires it. I will hear the Maker's tale." He turns to look at Aule the Maker. "I understand how you might feel that no one has believed you" Manwe speaks in a gentle compassionate voice. "I want to hear your words and listen." His words are sincere and gentle. "Please take my hand, and come with me. Come so we may sit together, and I will listen to what you say. I promise you this."
Eonwe looks at the hand extended, hears the voice gentle, soothing. Like rain after a long drought, like water to slake a great thirst, the words of the Lord of the West wash through Eonwe's grief and anguish, and he not so much walks to the side of the Breath of Arda as stumbles blindly, eyes filled with tears, gasping in lungfuls of air. What is this feeling? He asks himself, and closes the distance between them, hands extended, reaching out. He has never known, before, the sense of loss, of separation before this all happened, but it is all wheat shorn of chaff now, to hear his Lord call him, "beloved Herald." He comes to the Lord Manwe, not as warrior, nor as herald, but as a soul lost, hurting, aching to be again in the presence of his Lord, to be...just once, the one in pain and in need of comfort, given freely and with love.
Yavanna reaches out and, with a deft twist of a wrist strengthened by long days spent tending the growing things of the world, removes the dagger from Nienna's grasp. Her voice when she speaks is as hard and sharp as the blade she now holds. "You speak of insolence when you cavort with my husband so blatantly, and now hold bare blade before the very Breath of Arda! You, whom I have seen with my very eyes hanging off my husband as though he belonged to you, you would dare tell our Lord what is right and what is wrong? Remember yourself, Nienna!" Yavanna's eyes flash green scorn as she rebukes her sister Vala.
Eonwe looks over at Nienna, his voice soft, still full the pain upon his face."You could have done no wrong to the Breath of Arda with that blade. The steel is mine, and I am my Lord's."
Aule stares aghast as Yavanna snatches the dagger from Nienna's hand. Crossing the distance to the door with a few swift strides he steps between Nienna and Yavanna, an arm circling around the Vala of Compassion and edging her behind him to safety, "You, wife, are in no position to sully such a pure soul with your shrewish and judgmental tongue!" His hands work at his sides, clenching and unclenching as though struggling not to raise them against the one he once loved so deeply and passionately. "Who are you to judge when you have more than enough to answer for yourself with how you treat your husband!"
Manwe holds up a hand and says loudly "enough! I have seen and heard enough from you," he says sternly and glares at Aule and Nienna. "I will want to know the details from all of you, but my feelings hold as I have shared with you. I sense dark magics, and they stir at my ancient fears. I now deliver a judgement until I decide further. And that is upon Melkor."
> Next
"Halt!" booms the voice of the Breath of Arda. His voice echoes through the chamber. Never before has he witnessed the act of a Maiar raising his hand against a Vala. Eonwe, what has happened to him? Manwe thinks to himself. Catching him in this act reaffirms his suspicion that perhaps Eonwe is the one responsible. But he remembers the wall and the dead elf outside with the corrupted plants within. Aule's wall. He sees them both before him now. Finally he will have the answers for his troubled soul. "I command you to halt your hand, Eonwe!" Manwe shouts.
There had been times through the Ages when Yavanna's travels had led her to the far north of the world. Her feet had trod the grinding ice of Helcaraxe. Her skin had felt the bitter, biting cold. Her lungs had breathed air so cold it had felt like needles within her chest. But the cold she felt now, as she stood beside the Lord of the West deep under the Halls of Mandos came from within. It seemed to seep through her veins like an invidious poison, stealing through her body, through her limbs, through her mind and heart until she felt no more than a sculpture of ice, frozen from within, numb, unfeeling. The illusion shatters as Manwë's voice booms forth, and she flinches as the pain comes rushing back.
Eonwe freezes in mid-motion, hand raised. Slowly, as though in a dream, the Maia turns his head in the direction of the sound of voice, eyes widening as he beholds his Lord, the Breath of Arda. "Manwe," he breathes, feeling his heart pounding hard in his chest. The word is a prayer, a sound of hope, a heartrending sound. He stands there, his eyes locking onto Manwe's for several painful heartbeats. "My Lord," he whisper, and his vision blurs from the tears that suddenly spring to his eyes.
Aule whirls at the sound of Manwë's voice. So intent had he been on his confrontation with Eonwë that he had not even noticed the approach of the others, but now there in the doorway stood the very Breath of Arda himself and beside him, "Yavanna!" For a moment his heart leaps as it has always done upon first sight of her, and then the bleakness closes in upon it again.At the commanding voice, Nienna turns halfway, not releasing her protective grasp on Aule. Her tear-filled emerald eyes widen as she recognizes Manwe. At his side is Aule's whining wife. Nienna pauses, frowning uncomprehendingly at this latest intrusion, which is further unsettling this hideous day.
Manwë nods as Eonwe obeys his command, and the others gape in surprise. He takes the moment to gaze over his surroundings. He had rushed down here, preoccupied, and had not paid too much attention to the feeling in the air. Now, as he stands on the threshold of the chamber, the energies around him are strong. The feeling is like that he felt around the otherworldly flowers he and Yavanna exterminated such a short time ago. But this, this is even more evil. He senses a small movement at his side. Yavanna is stepping forward into the room, but he holds his arm out to block her. "Wait," he says to her. "There is an evil here. It is so strong" he continues, his voice deep with foreboding, "I sense his dark energy, the dark magic of my fallen brother."
Yavanna had been drawn forward unthinking. Like the moth drawn to the flame that will ultimately destroy it, she had been drawn closer to the surreal scene before her and had moved unthinking. She blinks as the import of Manwë's words pierce the fog of pain that had encompassed her mind. Now she lifts her head and extends her senses. "You are right!" she gasps and her mind recoils from the cloying fetidness of what she feels roiling within the chamber. It was almost tangible. She lifts a hand as though to reach out and touch it and her gaze falls again upon those in the room. "They are in there. They have been in there a long time." She resolutely closes her mind to the thought of just how long her husband may have been there with Nienna. "Even Eonwë was there before you dismissed him." She turns to look at Manwë, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Could this be why? Could this be why Aulë spoke to me so? Could this be why your beloved Herald behaved as he did?"
Eonwe drops his hand and turns his back upon the Maker, his eyes still locked upon the face of the Breath of Arda. Forgotten was Aule. Forgotten was Nienna. He takes a shallow breath, his chest tight, heart pounding. In his ears, there is a popping. He steps away, the traitors forgotten. Slowly, he bows his head and kneels. The words, well known and used throughout the centuries, fall from his lips, all the pain, hope, longing for the world he had known to be once more as he slowly sinks to his knees. "The will of the Valar be done," he says softly.
Aule watches incredulously as Eonwë sinks to his knees before Manwë. His lip curls in disdain at what he considered blatant groveling on the Maia's part. But Manwë was here now. Now he had a chance to be heard, to be believed. He was not going to let this lick-boot puppy provoke him into spoiling that. Folding his arms upon his chest he remains silent. For now.
Manwe nods thoughtfully in response to Yavanna's questions. His face shows concern for his beloved Herald kneeling now before him. He is also anxious for Aule's condition. The evil in the chamber is very strong. How long have they been exposed before he finally realised it? "I will get to the bottom of the cause of their behaviour very soon," he says to her and then turns to address the occupants of the chamber. "But for now, all of you must leave the chamber. I will not have you exposed to the malevolence any longer. I suspect my brother," he spits the word out distastefully, "has much to answer for. It is time to end this now!" Manwe says in a commanding voice.
Aule is unable to remain silent any longer. His voice sneering, he demands, "To end what? Disrespect on the part of this puppy who would raise his hand to one of the Valar? Treachery on his part who would draw blade in my presence? The doubting of a Lord of his loyal servant as you have doubted I? Yes, it is time it ended. Time it ended with the truth."
Gracefully, slowly, Eonwe rises fo his feet, He turns and regards the Maker. his eyes veiled, the emotion sliding from his face and a cold appraisal turns the blue of the eyes into glittering hard sapphires. Then he steps back, his mouth a hard thin line. He turns on his heel, the look he flashes Yavanna full of sympathy, understanding for her pain. Smoothly, lowering his gaze, he crosses the room towards his Beloved Lord and the visibly stricken Lady Yavanna.
Nienna hovers uncertainly, torn between millenia of habit of obeying the Lord of the West, and Aule's obvious scorn. Yet if the impudent Eonwe is following Manwe's orders, she has no desire to imitate him. Biting her lip, she stands in place, looking back and forth from Aule to Manwe.
Yavanna can do little but stand in stunned silence by Manwë's side, her mind struggling to take in all she sees and hears. The words spoke by her husband seem those of a stranger. Never had she thought to hear him speak in such a tone to the Breath of Arda himself. Her green eyes flick from one to the other of the occupants of the chamber, not knowing what madness was going to come from their lips next.
"Beloved Herald, I see now that there is more to what you were trying to tell me." Manwe reaches his hand out to him. "Take my hand and join me. I want to hear fully what you have to say to me, and I will listen. Come, Eonwe, come, my beloved Herald, come stand at my side again."
Eonwe , once Herald for the Breath of Arda, a Maia still of his house, stops at the entrance of the cavernous chamber. Smoothly he reaches back and grabs the hilt of a elegantly designed dagger. Thin is the blade and sharp, the weight of it balanced to perfection. With a fluid motion, battle trained, he whirls about, and he send the dagger flying hilt over handle to land, solidly between Aule's bare feet. He boldly stare at Aule and then turns back to the Lord of the West. "My Lord, "he says, and bows his head. "I raised my hand to the smith. I drew blade in his presence. To this I confess freely. What need I to lie to he who knows my mind..." he pauses and looks up at Manwe, his eyes soft with his pain, his love, his anguish. " I have no need of deceit, nor wish to betray the Lord I revere with all I am. "
"By the imperishable Flame, I stand before you, my Lord, and say to you that gladly will I submit me to your judgment. How can it be I would do else? But, Lord of Arda, I came here, still your loyal servant. I came here, determined to know and see for myself, the darkness in the Maker's heart. I came so that if he plotted foul treachery, I could stand betwixt you and his villainy. Well, Lord, I remember the sorrow in your heart when Melkor sought to destroy all that Eru brought into being through the Great Song, in which.." he whirls and looks directly at Aule, "...in which we ALL have our part, Valar and Maiar, Children of Eru and all creations of Yavanna." He raises a hand and points a forefinger at Aule, looking back at Lord Manwe, "And I tell thee, my gracious and sovereign Lord, that this one has so corrupted and besmirched his own self, his own perfection, blessed by Eru as he is, and has led another who should see with eyes of gentleness the suffering they have both visited upon the Maia who only wish to serve. " He drops his hand and takes a step to the Lord of Arda. "So, do with me as you will. I am yours, as ever, but my Lord, I cry justice for the Maia so ill used and demeaned that they have forgotten who,and what, they truly are."
Yavanna's gasps as Eonwë whirls unexpectedly and sends the sharp blade hurtling towards her husband. She sags with relief, clutching Manwë's arm for support as it lands harmlessly between his feet.
Aule stares down at the dagger between his feet a moment and then looks up at the arrogantly turned back of the Herald before his eyes shift past him to look into those of the Lord of the West. "Did you see that! Did you see his insolence? The puppy has risen above himself! He flatters you with his sweet words, but surely his actions speak louder." His voice is a roar of offended pride. "Listen to me! Please, I beseech you, hear me, Brother!"
Nienna jumps back as the dagger lands at Aule's feet. Enraged at this latest insult, she bends down and scoops up the knife. Clutching it angrily, she marches to Manwe. Holding it, point up, before him, she fumes, "See what your 'Herald' has done, and continues to do! Why do we continue to suffer his insolence?".
Listening with care to Eonwe's argument, Manwe continues to hold his hand to Eonwe. "You have come to me, Beloved Herald." He smiles gently "Judgement will be passed to he that requires it. I will hear the Maker's tale." He turns to look at Aule the Maker. "I understand how you might feel that no one has believed you" Manwe speaks in a gentle compassionate voice. "I want to hear your words and listen." His words are sincere and gentle. "Please take my hand, and come with me. Come so we may sit together, and I will listen to what you say. I promise you this."
Eonwe looks at the hand extended, hears the voice gentle, soothing. Like rain after a long drought, like water to slake a great thirst, the words of the Lord of the West wash through Eonwe's grief and anguish, and he not so much walks to the side of the Breath of Arda as stumbles blindly, eyes filled with tears, gasping in lungfuls of air. What is this feeling? He asks himself, and closes the distance between them, hands extended, reaching out. He has never known, before, the sense of loss, of separation before this all happened, but it is all wheat shorn of chaff now, to hear his Lord call him, "beloved Herald." He comes to the Lord Manwe, not as warrior, nor as herald, but as a soul lost, hurting, aching to be again in the presence of his Lord, to be...just once, the one in pain and in need of comfort, given freely and with love.
Yavanna reaches out and, with a deft twist of a wrist strengthened by long days spent tending the growing things of the world, removes the dagger from Nienna's grasp. Her voice when she speaks is as hard and sharp as the blade she now holds. "You speak of insolence when you cavort with my husband so blatantly, and now hold bare blade before the very Breath of Arda! You, whom I have seen with my very eyes hanging off my husband as though he belonged to you, you would dare tell our Lord what is right and what is wrong? Remember yourself, Nienna!" Yavanna's eyes flash green scorn as she rebukes her sister Vala.
Eonwe looks over at Nienna, his voice soft, still full the pain upon his face."You could have done no wrong to the Breath of Arda with that blade. The steel is mine, and I am my Lord's."
Aule stares aghast as Yavanna snatches the dagger from Nienna's hand. Crossing the distance to the door with a few swift strides he steps between Nienna and Yavanna, an arm circling around the Vala of Compassion and edging her behind him to safety, "You, wife, are in no position to sully such a pure soul with your shrewish and judgmental tongue!" His hands work at his sides, clenching and unclenching as though struggling not to raise them against the one he once loved so deeply and passionately. "Who are you to judge when you have more than enough to answer for yourself with how you treat your husband!"
Manwe holds up a hand and says loudly "enough! I have seen and heard enough from you," he says sternly and glares at Aule and Nienna. "I will want to know the details from all of you, but my feelings hold as I have shared with you. I sense dark magics, and they stir at my ancient fears. I now deliver a judgement until I decide further. And that is upon Melkor."
> Next