In the Garden
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-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
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35
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
35
Views:
7,801
Reviews:
59
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 30 The Ring
Title: In the Garden, Chapter 30
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, others implied
Rating: R
Warning: AU (Story set several hundred years after ROTK in Aman); Het.
Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive: AFF; FF
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Lady Victoria for betaing this fic.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Prof. Tolkien. A quick check of my bank account should prove I’m not making anything off of writing my stories. Sigh!
Summary: Life in the Blessed Land has not been so blessed for Elrond. Can the happiness that has long eluded him be found in the words of a red-bound journal, the help of his scheming friends, and the granting of a wish that none thought possible?
Chapter 30 --- The Ring
Máhanaxar… the Ring of Doom. The very name conjured memories of events both miraculous and terrible --- the Valar sitting in silence as the Two Trees were sung into being, the judgment of Melkor, Fëanor and the Silmarils, the Doom of the Noldor, Eärendil and Elwing… the Fate of the Ringbearers. Here the Valar sat in council or judgment, their thrones encircling the ancient mound of Corollairë.
A high stone wall enclosed the Court of the Valar, a straight, wide causeway connecting the complex to the western gates of the great city of Valimar. Open to all of Aman, an ancient stela stood before the archway with the words of Valaquenta recorded on its weathered surface for all to see and consider as they entered the Ring. A gently sloped expanse of grass flowed down from the outer ring to the base of the Valarin Columns. There, in this second ring, the elves of Aman… the Maiar gathered to watch and listen as the history of Arda was written.
Towering above it all were fourteen columns of the gleaming white marble. Each column was capped with a broad capital upon which sat a massive throne. On the front of each throne was inscribed the occupants name and symbol, while the words of the Song that had long ago charged each Vala to their part in the Music graced the back. A vaulted pavilion draped in white silk hangings enclosed each throne, shielding the Powers from casual observance from those in the second ring. The standards of each of the fourteen fluttered in the summer breeze, their colours bright against the pure white stone and trappings. Ornate stonework arched through the night air, linking the columns… and, thus, the innermost ring was formed.
Under the light of the heavens, the thrones of the Valar looked down upon the sacred place that had once been home to the Two Trees. Ithil’s light illuminated the Ring, its glow but a haunting echo of the radiance of ancient Telperion. In their place, a pillar of pure white marble, crafted into the images of the two lost trees, soared upward. Well below the height of the thrones, their stonework canopies merging to form a broad platform… the place of petition or punishment for all that sought the mercy of the Powers. A delicately wrought stairway, like the tentacles of a vine, twisted and turned around the marble trunks, grounding the pillar to the sacred mound below.
A large crowd milled about the grassy slopes of the second ring, jostling for position… anxious for the best view of what promised to be an entertaining session of the Council. The summit of the Pillar of the Two Trees yet stood empty, but word had quickly circulated throughout the City that one… the Peredhel no less, would soon dare to mount its heights to petition for that which their law forbad. The broad, flat platform was barely visible to those below and most had come early in hopes of securing a desirable position for viewing what was to come.
-----
Refusing to let the obvious amusement of the mostly Vanyar crowd dampen his hopes, Elrond turned to gaze between the Valarin Columns at Corollairë. An ancient need drew his eyes skyward, seeking out of habit his father’s star. As it long had, the bright glow soothed his heart and gave him courage.
To his nervous gaze, it seemed the star was brighter than ever before… as if he would be able to reach out and touch it from the height of the platform. He longed for the day he was free to leave Valimar to travel beyond the limits of Aman to the coast to seek a reunion with his father, but the Lady Estë and Lord Irmo had been insistent he remain close to await word that the time had come to make his bid. After this night… regardless of its outcome, he planned to make that long desired trip.
Focused as he was on the sky, he did not hear another’s approach. The hand that grasped his shoulder drew his startled attention. “Ai! Ereinion!”
Worried by the pale cast of his foster son’s features, the former high king gave the tense muscles under his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Relax, Elrond. I have never seen you so tense. All will be well… I feel this in my heart.”
Smiling in response to the comfort and support, he confessed, “I cannot help but be worried, Ada. So much depends upon the Valar granting this boon. Tis not only my life this affects… my sons, their mother and grandparents…”
“Meril.”
Ducking his head to hide the desire her name inspired, Elrond hesitantly nodded in agreement. “I have… hopes in that regard, as well you know.”
Moving in front of the peredhel, Ereinion clasped both of his shoulders. “We all have hopes for you in that regard, ion, but first and foremost we want you to have the chance to regain your life. When my memories returned after my second majority, I was struck by how much of life I had been forced to forgo to see to my duties. All of us that lived in Middle-earth bore some measure of that burden, but the rest of us have been able to set our burdens aside in these lands. You alone have not. It is time.” (son)
“I wish that were entirely true, for then I could endure if the rest of you were truly freed of your pains, but we both know you still harbour wounds from your time in those lands,” Elrond began.
“Pains, yes, but we no longer carry the burden of the actual duty that gave us that pain. You do. You married for the good of our peoples rather than as our creator intended… for love and companionship.” Smiling, he added, “I think Eru has other plans for you, and they do not include you spending the rest of eternity tied to Celebrian in a loveless, bondless union.”
Considering this, Elrond felt his confidence begin to return. “Perhaps, you are right. In any case, we shall soon know.”
Noting the activity taking place over the younger elf’s shoulder, Ereinion grinned. “If it gives you any comfort, you will not face this alone. Look behind you, ion, and see the love and respect you have earned from so many.” (son)
Expecting to see the members of his family gathered to offer their support, Elrond felt his shock drive the breath from his lungs. Behind the small knot of his smiling kin and closest friends stood hundreds upon hundreds of the elves of Middle-earth… elves of ancient Doriath and Gondolin, eldar of the Havens of Sirion, Lindon, Mithlond, and Eregion, many of the firstborn of Lorien and Greenwood… and seemingly every elf that had ever called Imladris home. All had come to champion his petition and, by their presence, offer him their thanks for his many sacrifices and leadership during the long years of struggle and despair.
The expectant chatter that had swirled around the public circle had begun to fall away as the Aman-born elves watched in confusion. The steady stream of elves from the distant lands of Middle-earth continued to crowd their way into the Ring to join the others who had come to lend their support to the elf lord. Shock drifted through the assembled mass as Finarfin, High King of the Noldor, arrived and moved without hesitation to join his older brother in the ranks of those flanking his distant nephew.
Galadriel and Celeborn moved to her father’s side, the Lady of the Golden Wood sliding her hand into the crook of his arm. A lovely elleth with white-gold hair hovered nearby, tucked protectively between her uncle and the mighty Balrog Slayer. Her shy smile hesitantly lifted to meet the peredhel’s, causing new butterflies to gather in his stomach and threatening to make the rest of the world fall away in the wake of its allure.
Still their numbers grew and the ancient inhabitants of the Blessed Lands found they were being herded into a tighter and tighter knot, as the press of bodies inside the massive space pushed them together. The legends among the Eldar of Middle-earth, many of whom they had watched in secret fascination and awe, were joined by elves of more humble origin and contribution. That Lord Elrond seemed to know them each by name… to hold them all in high regard confused many.
The entrance of the Maiar Olórin and Melian, the towering figure of her elven husband at her side, was a none too subtle reminder that the peredhel counted the Lady among his ancestors… that he too carried the blood of the Ainur in his veins. Their presence made many begin to take seriously the merits of the coming petition. That two of the holy ones favoured it, cast it in a new light.
The fluttering of wings drew an audible gasp as a lovely white seabird glided into their midst, transforming before their stunned eyes into an elleth of staggering beauty. Smiling with the love of a proud mother, she stretched up to kiss the forehead of the trembling peredhel before taking her place at her grandsons’ side. Overhead, the light of the Star of Eärendil grew brighter and the eager eyes below took in the details of his ship as the star drifted down to illuminate his son with a brilliant glow. The last two beings to mount the steps to petition the Valar had arrived to offer their support to their only surviving son, the one that had chosen to be counted among their numbers.
Through it all, Elrond stood in shock, the power to speak stripped away by this unprecedented sight. A sense of awe and gratitude gripped his heart as his family, his friends… his people returned in kind the love and care he had ever shown them. Within the shadows of the towering columns, the Valar Irmo and Estë traded pleased smiles. Both knew this show of unconditional support and loyalty did more to heal the wounds of the peredhel’s fragile heart than all the waters of Lorien could ever hope to do.
-----
A loud trumpet blast broke the silence that had descended upon of the Ring. All eyes turned to an ornate balcony that jutted out over the entrance archway to see two Maiar sentries, resplendent in the pure white and silvery grey livery of Manwë, lift long trumpets to issue a second call. As the notes of the horn drifted away, the curtain shielding the balcony swept back and Eönwë, the Herald of the King of the Valar emerged. At his side, Ilmarë, the Handmaiden of Varda took her place at his side. A third blast of the horns preceded the Herald’s words.
“In the beginning Eru, the One, who in the Elvish tongue is named Ilúvatar, made the Ainur of his thought; and they made a great Music before him. In this Music, the World was begun; for Ilúvatar made visible the song of the Ainur, and they beheld it as a light in the darkness. And many among them became enamoured of its beauty, and of its history which they saw beginning and unfolding as in a vision. Therefore, Ilúvatar gave to their vision Being, and set it amid the Void, and the Secret Fire was sent to burn at the heart of the World; and it was called Eä." (“The Valaquenta”, The Silmarillion, pg 15)
Gazing out across the ring to the furthest column, the one that housed the throne of Manwë, the Maia inclined his head. “By the will of Eru Ilúvatar, the Valar stand as his appointed guardians of the World. Draw nigh and hearken to their will.”
The two sentries again sounded their trumpets and bright lights began to shimmer atop the towering columns. The Powers had arrived. Those assembled around the Ring dropped to their knees, as sentries clad in the livery of the Vala they served appeared behind the fourteen thrones. Each raised a trumpet and, one by one in the order of rank, sounded a call to confirm their attendance at the Council.
A deafening silence blanketed Máhanaxar as the notes of the last trumpet, the signature of the Valië Nessa, drifted away. Nervous eyes lifted to watch the Herald in hopes of some indication of what was to happen next. They did not have long to wait, though it was the Handmaiden that next spoke. (one of the Queens of the Valar, singular form)
In gentle, soothing tones, the Maia Ilmarë called, her voice carrying across the silent crowd, “Let he who has petitioned an audience before the Powers of Arda ascend the Pillar of the Two Trees to the place of petition and judgment. The Valar await you. May Eru Ilúvatar guide and strengthen your heart to wisely state your case.”
-----
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Elrond stepped to the base of the pathway that circled the Mound. Reminding himself to keep a dignified pace so as not to betray his building anxiety, he began the long climb. Once he had reached the top of the mound, the twining rise of the stairway that rose to the summit remained.
The tumble of thoughts and emotions raging in his head did little to calm his nerves. He struggled to keep his mind from dwelling on the probability he would be denied his request. Years of experience in facing difficult situations had taught him never to assume an outcome no matter the how long the odds appeared to be.
As he climbed, he let the speech he had prepared with the aid of Erestor and Lindir run through his mind. The familiar words proved to be an effective distraction from the overwhelming reality of the moment. /I do not know how I will go on if they do not grant this. Meril… nay, I cannot think of her now. The Valar will not think well of me to have fallen in love with another while Celebrian is still my wife… in name at least./
Stifling a sigh, he reviewed the strategy they had devised for his petition in the wake of their meeting with the Ladies Varda and Yavanna. /Erestor gave me the opening if they will allow it. The Valar knew the need for the marriage even as they knew the lack of a bond. If there is no bond, there is no marriage. Only the vows hold me… us. I ask only to be relieved of the vows of marriage, not to break a bond… simple and direct./
Knowing he was as prepared as possible… that he had as good a set of arguments as one could hope to offer in these circumstances, he found his mind beginning to wander. /It will be a relief to have this decision made, so that I can make plans for my future. I will go to the coast and finally see my father. A trip beyond Valimar will also remove me from clutches of the gossips. Perhaps, Meril might be interested in travelling to the coast to see her relatives too. If… Ai! Stop this! One step at a time! Focus!/
Returning his attention to his climb, he noted he was close to the top the stairs. It had taken him several minutes to make his assent. To his relief, a sense of peace and acceptance began to pervade his spirit the closer to the platform he came. Looking up to see if his earlier thought was possible, that he would be able to touch his father’s star from the platform, he smiled to note that it did indeed seem he could. The details of his father’s ship… his long-missed face began to appear to his hungry eyes.
Unconsciously, his hand lifted in greeting, a whispered, “Ada!” slipped from his lips. As if he heard, the star blinked brightly. The smile that lit the peredhel’s face rivalled it in its brilliance.
Forcing his gaze back to the stairs lest he trip, Elrond took the last steps onto the platform. /There! I would never have heard the end of that from Mel and Glory had I fallen on my face. Surely that would have amused the whole of Aman!/, From his vantage point, the whole of the Ring of Doom lay at his feet, save for the fourteen thrones that seemed to hover above his head. The beauty of the beings that occupied those thrones robbed him of breath.
The final section of stairs was oriented so that he had emerged onto the platform facing the throne of Manwë. Dropping to his knees, Elrond silently waited to be acknowledged. After several endless minutes, a deep voice boomed, “Rise Son of Eärendil and Elwing. We are pleased to have you and your kin finally walking upon these shores. You have done well, penneth and we are greatly pleased with you.” (young one)
Head still bowed, Elrond rose to his feet, hesitant to speak. In his mind, the soft soothing voice of the Valië Estë whispered, “Relax, pen vuil. You have no reason to fear us.” (dear one)
Startled, Elrond’s gaze swung to the right in search of the two Valar he felt were his champions. Finding Lord Irmo’s throne half-way around the circle, he again bowed before looking to the Vala’s left to meet the kind gaze of the Lady. Suddenly assailed by worry he had offended the other Valar, he whipped his gaze back to the throne of Manwë. /Calm yourself, fool! It can hardly help your case to behave like an elfling!/
A bright red blush stained his face as he felt more than heard the amusement his thoughts had caused among the Powers. Unsettled by the realisation they had likely heard the entire silent debate he had waged during the climb, he mentally cringed in dread. “Elrond… listen to me, penneth. Relax. We mean you no harm. You are well loved amongst the Valar. We have long known how difficult your life has been… made all the more so by your willingness to accept the will of the One. Not all have done this, so we value your sacrifices all the more, for it did not come easily or without tremendous personal cost.” (young one)
Looking up, he found that the Lady Varda was smiling at him, her words still floating on the air. “Speak to us. Tell us why you have come before us. We will hear your petition with an open and loving heart.”
In the wake of her assurances, Elrond found his confidence had returned. He was here and the Powers would do him the honour of listening. This was all he could do, so he focused on doing it well.
-----
“My Lords and Ladies… I thank you for the privilege of being allowed to come before you. I have lived my life in service to the Valar… to Eru Ilúvatar. I was honoured to have been given the tasks that came to me for there is no higher purpose than to serve the One.”
“As well you know, the lands of Middle-earth were long shadowed by the darkness of Morgoth… of his followers, chiefly Sauron. Many suffered and many died fighting those evils. Those of my people that were left had to unify or perish. The death of my foster father in the final battle of the War of the Last Alliance left the Eldar without a leader. There was no one to take up his mantel.”
“Faced with this, the unity provided by a marriage between the ruling families of the realms of Lothlorien and Imladris was our only option. The Lady Celebrian and I accepted this duty. The Eldar of our realms found comfort in this union.”
“We took these vows for the good of Middle-earth… for the good of our people. We shared no love, nor did we share friendship. We were strangers with little choice but to accept the duty that came to us.”
“Despite the vows we took, no bond of marriage ever formed. Despite the obvious fact we consummated our marriage, no bond of marriage ever formed. Despite the children gifted to our lives, no bond of marriage ever formed.”
“We now reside in Aman, far from the ancient turmoil of our former home. There is no marriage for us to embrace as we face our new lives. There is no comfort or love… no friendship in our marriage as the One intended for bonded couples. We are bereft and alone, bound by vows taken for a land we no longer call home, a land that no longer needs our marriage to give it unity and hope.”
“On behalf of my lady wife and with the blessings of our sons and family, I petition the Valar to free us from those vows. I do not ask to be freed from a marriage bond for none exists. Only the Valar can grant us our freedom and allow us to remake our lives in these lands. I humbly petition for this blessing.”
-----
A/N --- Many thanks to all of the kind folks that responded to my email asking for information on the Ring of Doom/Máhanaxar. Frankly, there isn’t much in canon to work with, but I’ve done my best to include what’s there is in my description. For the rest, I used a great deal of ‘artistic license’ to fill in the blanks. All of the protocols and the assignment of the administrative duties to the Herald and Handmaiden are of my doing, but it made sense to me. It seemed to fit their ‘job descriptions’. *Grin!*
Special thanks to Debra and Griz for encouraging me to use Stonehenge as my model. I think Professor Tolkien would have approved of that if nothing else. I do have some drawings Vicky and I developed from diagrams of Stonehenge if you are interested in seeing them. They may help explain my ‘vision’ of the Ring. I’ll add them to the pictures sections of the Yahoo Groups that receive this mailing.
A/N --- While I don’t recall of any reference in canon that says the Valar met in a formal council to agree to allow the Hobbits to enter Aman, it seems logical that they would. No mortal was allowed to come to those shores by edict of the Valar, so logically, a subsequent edict would be needed to allow them entry… as they must have done for Tuor. Besides, it fits in well with my story, so there it is.
A/N --- Corollairë is one of the names given to the mound where Yavanna called forth the two trees, Telperion and Laurelin. Both the Silmarillion and Morgoth’s Ring (Thanks Agie!) contain references to the Ring of Doom, but give little in the way of a physical description. From these works, I was able to determine that the Ring or Máhanaxar was located beyond the western (golden) gates of Valimar and that it was built at around the same time as the city, after Melkor’s fall (hence the fourteen columns/thrones in my description).
The Valar are described as sitting on their thrones under the stars, so I think its clear the ring is open-air and that councils were held at night. The Ring is also described as being bathed in the light of the two trees, so I elected to make Corollairë , also called Ezellohar or the Green Mound, the center of the complex and have the thrones of the Valar facing each other over it. The description of the marble Pillar of the Two Trees is entirely my creation, for good or ill. Based on the diagrams of Stonehenge, I made the outer area grass and decided to slope the area like an amphitheater so the citizens of Aman could attend/listen/see the proceedings.
A/N --- A stela is a tall stone tablet or pillar used for funerary or commemorative purposes. They are usually inscribed with text, drawings, or a combination to record some special event or person of note. They were used by several ancient cultures, most notably the Egyptians. I chose to use a stela rather than the Heel-stone found at Stonehenge because I liked the idea of having the creation text inscribed at the entrance of the complex as a reminder to all that entered.
A/N --- Valaquenta is the second chapter of the Silmarillion and offers the Eldar’s version of the creation story of Eä.
A/N --- THANKS EC! Your support means so much to me! Hope you liked the chapter. The next four four are written and betaed (BIG cheer for Vicky for all the hard work!) and I'll be posting more this week.
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, others implied
Rating: R
Warning: AU (Story set several hundred years after ROTK in Aman); Het.
Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive: AFF; FF
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Lady Victoria for betaing this fic.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Prof. Tolkien. A quick check of my bank account should prove I’m not making anything off of writing my stories. Sigh!
Summary: Life in the Blessed Land has not been so blessed for Elrond. Can the happiness that has long eluded him be found in the words of a red-bound journal, the help of his scheming friends, and the granting of a wish that none thought possible?
Chapter 30 --- The Ring
Máhanaxar… the Ring of Doom. The very name conjured memories of events both miraculous and terrible --- the Valar sitting in silence as the Two Trees were sung into being, the judgment of Melkor, Fëanor and the Silmarils, the Doom of the Noldor, Eärendil and Elwing… the Fate of the Ringbearers. Here the Valar sat in council or judgment, their thrones encircling the ancient mound of Corollairë.
A high stone wall enclosed the Court of the Valar, a straight, wide causeway connecting the complex to the western gates of the great city of Valimar. Open to all of Aman, an ancient stela stood before the archway with the words of Valaquenta recorded on its weathered surface for all to see and consider as they entered the Ring. A gently sloped expanse of grass flowed down from the outer ring to the base of the Valarin Columns. There, in this second ring, the elves of Aman… the Maiar gathered to watch and listen as the history of Arda was written.
Towering above it all were fourteen columns of the gleaming white marble. Each column was capped with a broad capital upon which sat a massive throne. On the front of each throne was inscribed the occupants name and symbol, while the words of the Song that had long ago charged each Vala to their part in the Music graced the back. A vaulted pavilion draped in white silk hangings enclosed each throne, shielding the Powers from casual observance from those in the second ring. The standards of each of the fourteen fluttered in the summer breeze, their colours bright against the pure white stone and trappings. Ornate stonework arched through the night air, linking the columns… and, thus, the innermost ring was formed.
Under the light of the heavens, the thrones of the Valar looked down upon the sacred place that had once been home to the Two Trees. Ithil’s light illuminated the Ring, its glow but a haunting echo of the radiance of ancient Telperion. In their place, a pillar of pure white marble, crafted into the images of the two lost trees, soared upward. Well below the height of the thrones, their stonework canopies merging to form a broad platform… the place of petition or punishment for all that sought the mercy of the Powers. A delicately wrought stairway, like the tentacles of a vine, twisted and turned around the marble trunks, grounding the pillar to the sacred mound below.
A large crowd milled about the grassy slopes of the second ring, jostling for position… anxious for the best view of what promised to be an entertaining session of the Council. The summit of the Pillar of the Two Trees yet stood empty, but word had quickly circulated throughout the City that one… the Peredhel no less, would soon dare to mount its heights to petition for that which their law forbad. The broad, flat platform was barely visible to those below and most had come early in hopes of securing a desirable position for viewing what was to come.
-----
Refusing to let the obvious amusement of the mostly Vanyar crowd dampen his hopes, Elrond turned to gaze between the Valarin Columns at Corollairë. An ancient need drew his eyes skyward, seeking out of habit his father’s star. As it long had, the bright glow soothed his heart and gave him courage.
To his nervous gaze, it seemed the star was brighter than ever before… as if he would be able to reach out and touch it from the height of the platform. He longed for the day he was free to leave Valimar to travel beyond the limits of Aman to the coast to seek a reunion with his father, but the Lady Estë and Lord Irmo had been insistent he remain close to await word that the time had come to make his bid. After this night… regardless of its outcome, he planned to make that long desired trip.
Focused as he was on the sky, he did not hear another’s approach. The hand that grasped his shoulder drew his startled attention. “Ai! Ereinion!”
Worried by the pale cast of his foster son’s features, the former high king gave the tense muscles under his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Relax, Elrond. I have never seen you so tense. All will be well… I feel this in my heart.”
Smiling in response to the comfort and support, he confessed, “I cannot help but be worried, Ada. So much depends upon the Valar granting this boon. Tis not only my life this affects… my sons, their mother and grandparents…”
“Meril.”
Ducking his head to hide the desire her name inspired, Elrond hesitantly nodded in agreement. “I have… hopes in that regard, as well you know.”
Moving in front of the peredhel, Ereinion clasped both of his shoulders. “We all have hopes for you in that regard, ion, but first and foremost we want you to have the chance to regain your life. When my memories returned after my second majority, I was struck by how much of life I had been forced to forgo to see to my duties. All of us that lived in Middle-earth bore some measure of that burden, but the rest of us have been able to set our burdens aside in these lands. You alone have not. It is time.” (son)
“I wish that were entirely true, for then I could endure if the rest of you were truly freed of your pains, but we both know you still harbour wounds from your time in those lands,” Elrond began.
“Pains, yes, but we no longer carry the burden of the actual duty that gave us that pain. You do. You married for the good of our peoples rather than as our creator intended… for love and companionship.” Smiling, he added, “I think Eru has other plans for you, and they do not include you spending the rest of eternity tied to Celebrian in a loveless, bondless union.”
Considering this, Elrond felt his confidence begin to return. “Perhaps, you are right. In any case, we shall soon know.”
Noting the activity taking place over the younger elf’s shoulder, Ereinion grinned. “If it gives you any comfort, you will not face this alone. Look behind you, ion, and see the love and respect you have earned from so many.” (son)
Expecting to see the members of his family gathered to offer their support, Elrond felt his shock drive the breath from his lungs. Behind the small knot of his smiling kin and closest friends stood hundreds upon hundreds of the elves of Middle-earth… elves of ancient Doriath and Gondolin, eldar of the Havens of Sirion, Lindon, Mithlond, and Eregion, many of the firstborn of Lorien and Greenwood… and seemingly every elf that had ever called Imladris home. All had come to champion his petition and, by their presence, offer him their thanks for his many sacrifices and leadership during the long years of struggle and despair.
The expectant chatter that had swirled around the public circle had begun to fall away as the Aman-born elves watched in confusion. The steady stream of elves from the distant lands of Middle-earth continued to crowd their way into the Ring to join the others who had come to lend their support to the elf lord. Shock drifted through the assembled mass as Finarfin, High King of the Noldor, arrived and moved without hesitation to join his older brother in the ranks of those flanking his distant nephew.
Galadriel and Celeborn moved to her father’s side, the Lady of the Golden Wood sliding her hand into the crook of his arm. A lovely elleth with white-gold hair hovered nearby, tucked protectively between her uncle and the mighty Balrog Slayer. Her shy smile hesitantly lifted to meet the peredhel’s, causing new butterflies to gather in his stomach and threatening to make the rest of the world fall away in the wake of its allure.
Still their numbers grew and the ancient inhabitants of the Blessed Lands found they were being herded into a tighter and tighter knot, as the press of bodies inside the massive space pushed them together. The legends among the Eldar of Middle-earth, many of whom they had watched in secret fascination and awe, were joined by elves of more humble origin and contribution. That Lord Elrond seemed to know them each by name… to hold them all in high regard confused many.
The entrance of the Maiar Olórin and Melian, the towering figure of her elven husband at her side, was a none too subtle reminder that the peredhel counted the Lady among his ancestors… that he too carried the blood of the Ainur in his veins. Their presence made many begin to take seriously the merits of the coming petition. That two of the holy ones favoured it, cast it in a new light.
The fluttering of wings drew an audible gasp as a lovely white seabird glided into their midst, transforming before their stunned eyes into an elleth of staggering beauty. Smiling with the love of a proud mother, she stretched up to kiss the forehead of the trembling peredhel before taking her place at her grandsons’ side. Overhead, the light of the Star of Eärendil grew brighter and the eager eyes below took in the details of his ship as the star drifted down to illuminate his son with a brilliant glow. The last two beings to mount the steps to petition the Valar had arrived to offer their support to their only surviving son, the one that had chosen to be counted among their numbers.
Through it all, Elrond stood in shock, the power to speak stripped away by this unprecedented sight. A sense of awe and gratitude gripped his heart as his family, his friends… his people returned in kind the love and care he had ever shown them. Within the shadows of the towering columns, the Valar Irmo and Estë traded pleased smiles. Both knew this show of unconditional support and loyalty did more to heal the wounds of the peredhel’s fragile heart than all the waters of Lorien could ever hope to do.
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A loud trumpet blast broke the silence that had descended upon of the Ring. All eyes turned to an ornate balcony that jutted out over the entrance archway to see two Maiar sentries, resplendent in the pure white and silvery grey livery of Manwë, lift long trumpets to issue a second call. As the notes of the horn drifted away, the curtain shielding the balcony swept back and Eönwë, the Herald of the King of the Valar emerged. At his side, Ilmarë, the Handmaiden of Varda took her place at his side. A third blast of the horns preceded the Herald’s words.
“In the beginning Eru, the One, who in the Elvish tongue is named Ilúvatar, made the Ainur of his thought; and they made a great Music before him. In this Music, the World was begun; for Ilúvatar made visible the song of the Ainur, and they beheld it as a light in the darkness. And many among them became enamoured of its beauty, and of its history which they saw beginning and unfolding as in a vision. Therefore, Ilúvatar gave to their vision Being, and set it amid the Void, and the Secret Fire was sent to burn at the heart of the World; and it was called Eä." (“The Valaquenta”, The Silmarillion, pg 15)
Gazing out across the ring to the furthest column, the one that housed the throne of Manwë, the Maia inclined his head. “By the will of Eru Ilúvatar, the Valar stand as his appointed guardians of the World. Draw nigh and hearken to their will.”
The two sentries again sounded their trumpets and bright lights began to shimmer atop the towering columns. The Powers had arrived. Those assembled around the Ring dropped to their knees, as sentries clad in the livery of the Vala they served appeared behind the fourteen thrones. Each raised a trumpet and, one by one in the order of rank, sounded a call to confirm their attendance at the Council.
A deafening silence blanketed Máhanaxar as the notes of the last trumpet, the signature of the Valië Nessa, drifted away. Nervous eyes lifted to watch the Herald in hopes of some indication of what was to happen next. They did not have long to wait, though it was the Handmaiden that next spoke. (one of the Queens of the Valar, singular form)
In gentle, soothing tones, the Maia Ilmarë called, her voice carrying across the silent crowd, “Let he who has petitioned an audience before the Powers of Arda ascend the Pillar of the Two Trees to the place of petition and judgment. The Valar await you. May Eru Ilúvatar guide and strengthen your heart to wisely state your case.”
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Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Elrond stepped to the base of the pathway that circled the Mound. Reminding himself to keep a dignified pace so as not to betray his building anxiety, he began the long climb. Once he had reached the top of the mound, the twining rise of the stairway that rose to the summit remained.
The tumble of thoughts and emotions raging in his head did little to calm his nerves. He struggled to keep his mind from dwelling on the probability he would be denied his request. Years of experience in facing difficult situations had taught him never to assume an outcome no matter the how long the odds appeared to be.
As he climbed, he let the speech he had prepared with the aid of Erestor and Lindir run through his mind. The familiar words proved to be an effective distraction from the overwhelming reality of the moment. /I do not know how I will go on if they do not grant this. Meril… nay, I cannot think of her now. The Valar will not think well of me to have fallen in love with another while Celebrian is still my wife… in name at least./
Stifling a sigh, he reviewed the strategy they had devised for his petition in the wake of their meeting with the Ladies Varda and Yavanna. /Erestor gave me the opening if they will allow it. The Valar knew the need for the marriage even as they knew the lack of a bond. If there is no bond, there is no marriage. Only the vows hold me… us. I ask only to be relieved of the vows of marriage, not to break a bond… simple and direct./
Knowing he was as prepared as possible… that he had as good a set of arguments as one could hope to offer in these circumstances, he found his mind beginning to wander. /It will be a relief to have this decision made, so that I can make plans for my future. I will go to the coast and finally see my father. A trip beyond Valimar will also remove me from clutches of the gossips. Perhaps, Meril might be interested in travelling to the coast to see her relatives too. If… Ai! Stop this! One step at a time! Focus!/
Returning his attention to his climb, he noted he was close to the top the stairs. It had taken him several minutes to make his assent. To his relief, a sense of peace and acceptance began to pervade his spirit the closer to the platform he came. Looking up to see if his earlier thought was possible, that he would be able to touch his father’s star from the platform, he smiled to note that it did indeed seem he could. The details of his father’s ship… his long-missed face began to appear to his hungry eyes.
Unconsciously, his hand lifted in greeting, a whispered, “Ada!” slipped from his lips. As if he heard, the star blinked brightly. The smile that lit the peredhel’s face rivalled it in its brilliance.
Forcing his gaze back to the stairs lest he trip, Elrond took the last steps onto the platform. /There! I would never have heard the end of that from Mel and Glory had I fallen on my face. Surely that would have amused the whole of Aman!/, From his vantage point, the whole of the Ring of Doom lay at his feet, save for the fourteen thrones that seemed to hover above his head. The beauty of the beings that occupied those thrones robbed him of breath.
The final section of stairs was oriented so that he had emerged onto the platform facing the throne of Manwë. Dropping to his knees, Elrond silently waited to be acknowledged. After several endless minutes, a deep voice boomed, “Rise Son of Eärendil and Elwing. We are pleased to have you and your kin finally walking upon these shores. You have done well, penneth and we are greatly pleased with you.” (young one)
Head still bowed, Elrond rose to his feet, hesitant to speak. In his mind, the soft soothing voice of the Valië Estë whispered, “Relax, pen vuil. You have no reason to fear us.” (dear one)
Startled, Elrond’s gaze swung to the right in search of the two Valar he felt were his champions. Finding Lord Irmo’s throne half-way around the circle, he again bowed before looking to the Vala’s left to meet the kind gaze of the Lady. Suddenly assailed by worry he had offended the other Valar, he whipped his gaze back to the throne of Manwë. /Calm yourself, fool! It can hardly help your case to behave like an elfling!/
A bright red blush stained his face as he felt more than heard the amusement his thoughts had caused among the Powers. Unsettled by the realisation they had likely heard the entire silent debate he had waged during the climb, he mentally cringed in dread. “Elrond… listen to me, penneth. Relax. We mean you no harm. You are well loved amongst the Valar. We have long known how difficult your life has been… made all the more so by your willingness to accept the will of the One. Not all have done this, so we value your sacrifices all the more, for it did not come easily or without tremendous personal cost.” (young one)
Looking up, he found that the Lady Varda was smiling at him, her words still floating on the air. “Speak to us. Tell us why you have come before us. We will hear your petition with an open and loving heart.”
In the wake of her assurances, Elrond found his confidence had returned. He was here and the Powers would do him the honour of listening. This was all he could do, so he focused on doing it well.
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“My Lords and Ladies… I thank you for the privilege of being allowed to come before you. I have lived my life in service to the Valar… to Eru Ilúvatar. I was honoured to have been given the tasks that came to me for there is no higher purpose than to serve the One.”
“As well you know, the lands of Middle-earth were long shadowed by the darkness of Morgoth… of his followers, chiefly Sauron. Many suffered and many died fighting those evils. Those of my people that were left had to unify or perish. The death of my foster father in the final battle of the War of the Last Alliance left the Eldar without a leader. There was no one to take up his mantel.”
“Faced with this, the unity provided by a marriage between the ruling families of the realms of Lothlorien and Imladris was our only option. The Lady Celebrian and I accepted this duty. The Eldar of our realms found comfort in this union.”
“We took these vows for the good of Middle-earth… for the good of our people. We shared no love, nor did we share friendship. We were strangers with little choice but to accept the duty that came to us.”
“Despite the vows we took, no bond of marriage ever formed. Despite the obvious fact we consummated our marriage, no bond of marriage ever formed. Despite the children gifted to our lives, no bond of marriage ever formed.”
“We now reside in Aman, far from the ancient turmoil of our former home. There is no marriage for us to embrace as we face our new lives. There is no comfort or love… no friendship in our marriage as the One intended for bonded couples. We are bereft and alone, bound by vows taken for a land we no longer call home, a land that no longer needs our marriage to give it unity and hope.”
“On behalf of my lady wife and with the blessings of our sons and family, I petition the Valar to free us from those vows. I do not ask to be freed from a marriage bond for none exists. Only the Valar can grant us our freedom and allow us to remake our lives in these lands. I humbly petition for this blessing.”
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A/N --- Many thanks to all of the kind folks that responded to my email asking for information on the Ring of Doom/Máhanaxar. Frankly, there isn’t much in canon to work with, but I’ve done my best to include what’s there is in my description. For the rest, I used a great deal of ‘artistic license’ to fill in the blanks. All of the protocols and the assignment of the administrative duties to the Herald and Handmaiden are of my doing, but it made sense to me. It seemed to fit their ‘job descriptions’. *Grin!*
Special thanks to Debra and Griz for encouraging me to use Stonehenge as my model. I think Professor Tolkien would have approved of that if nothing else. I do have some drawings Vicky and I developed from diagrams of Stonehenge if you are interested in seeing them. They may help explain my ‘vision’ of the Ring. I’ll add them to the pictures sections of the Yahoo Groups that receive this mailing.
A/N --- While I don’t recall of any reference in canon that says the Valar met in a formal council to agree to allow the Hobbits to enter Aman, it seems logical that they would. No mortal was allowed to come to those shores by edict of the Valar, so logically, a subsequent edict would be needed to allow them entry… as they must have done for Tuor. Besides, it fits in well with my story, so there it is.
A/N --- Corollairë is one of the names given to the mound where Yavanna called forth the two trees, Telperion and Laurelin. Both the Silmarillion and Morgoth’s Ring (Thanks Agie!) contain references to the Ring of Doom, but give little in the way of a physical description. From these works, I was able to determine that the Ring or Máhanaxar was located beyond the western (golden) gates of Valimar and that it was built at around the same time as the city, after Melkor’s fall (hence the fourteen columns/thrones in my description).
The Valar are described as sitting on their thrones under the stars, so I think its clear the ring is open-air and that councils were held at night. The Ring is also described as being bathed in the light of the two trees, so I elected to make Corollairë , also called Ezellohar or the Green Mound, the center of the complex and have the thrones of the Valar facing each other over it. The description of the marble Pillar of the Two Trees is entirely my creation, for good or ill. Based on the diagrams of Stonehenge, I made the outer area grass and decided to slope the area like an amphitheater so the citizens of Aman could attend/listen/see the proceedings.
A/N --- A stela is a tall stone tablet or pillar used for funerary or commemorative purposes. They are usually inscribed with text, drawings, or a combination to record some special event or person of note. They were used by several ancient cultures, most notably the Egyptians. I chose to use a stela rather than the Heel-stone found at Stonehenge because I liked the idea of having the creation text inscribed at the entrance of the complex as a reminder to all that entered.
A/N --- Valaquenta is the second chapter of the Silmarillion and offers the Eldar’s version of the creation story of Eä.
A/N --- THANKS EC! Your support means so much to me! Hope you liked the chapter. The next four four are written and betaed (BIG cheer for Vicky for all the hard work!) and I'll be posting more this week.