Mana ngwen polne mai náne [Unfinished - Discontinued]

When Námo had called a full gathering, Manwë had blinked in surprise. It was Ages ago when they had one. But judging from Námo’s tone, this was urgent. And it made Manwë worry. Worry for the unknown he had yet to be told, worry for something or someone that could pose danger to them and Arda as a whole, worry for anything really. He feared for Adáraphelún[1] and all the creations of Máhanáz Ithír[2]. He feared for them, of what the future holds. Even with the Song, their Song they sang, there were uncertainties. He only knew his part, the parts he would be involved in, and until the moment came, he didn’t know what they meant.

And so Manwë worried and feared, for what this gathering will bring to them. He did wonder why now. So suddenly just after Sauron has been bested and the Realm had returned to order. It couldn’t have been his brother. It couldn’t have been Melkor, who was behind this, surely.

And as the day went on, so did Manwë’s worry grow. With each passing minute and hour, he dreaded the moment they would all sit down to talk. He found it disturbing. How much such a small thing could have control over him. As if he wasn’t a Vala, wasn’t a child of Máhanáz Ithír, one of the first ones. He felt trapped and suffocating. Like he was a Secondborn. It almost felt unreal. How a simple word, a simple sentence really, could bring this out of him.

But when the lights of Anar were finally gone, and his lovely wife had spread her stars high among the skies, the Valar have gathered, each looking grim of the news. None tried to make light of the situation, no loud words spoken. None, at all. All holding back until it was finally revealed what would be troubling them now.

“Námo, why have you called a full gathering? Such thing hasn’t happened since Beleriand.” He had begun. His eyes, even when he feared not now, and was more curious, were still wide and hard. “I do hope it is nothing like that.”

But when Námo remained silent, and his face a blank canvas, Manwë started to doubt his thoughts. Surely, nothing bad could have happened or headed their way. They would have known about it. Surely.

“A fëa is missing form my Halls.”

The Doomsman was instantly silenced by the shouting and terrified voices of the others. As they tried to be heard and out sound the others, Manwë tried to retain some order. His voice carried nothing, wasn’t even heard at all, as the others continued to scream.

“SILENCE!”

The rest stopped, some wincing, some grunting.

“You know, you can just ask through ósanwë.” Ulmo muttered and sat back, leaning into his chair. “Even with us not going deaf, I still would like to avoid the feeling of it.”

“I do apologize for this brother, but neither of you would listen otherwise.” With calmness returning to the room, Manwë nodded towards Námo. “Please continue and explain Námo. A fëa missing? How?”

“The fëa is not really missing. More like… Replaced?” Manwë blinked. Was Námo unsure about something? Regarding fëa?

“Could you explain it brother? Even with my powers, I can’t see into your mind.” Irmo joked lightly, though it had the opposite effect on their sibling.

“I have called Estë there, to see for herself-“

“I could only feel that something wasn’t right. Remember, I had treated him upon his entry to your halls, but I’m no more connected to the fëar than you are to healing.” The Valië replied crossing her arms. “He is hurt, and that was all I could feel.”

Námo grunted, and in Manwë’s opinion, he looked like he was pouting. “Today, I felt a feeling. Like something was shifting.” He started to explain, fingers moving through his beard. ”Like I just slipped and was falling, but not truly. I followed the sensation, trying to find it, and I came to Fëanáro Curufinwë’s room.” There was a collective groan, and Manwë felt a headache coming. Let it be Fëanor again… The bringer of all bad.

“Don’t tell me he did something?”

“I’m not sure. The fëa we knew, the one that vowed the Oath, took lives and made the Silmarils, is… Not the same that was there in my halls.”

“What does that mean?” Yavanna leaned forward in her chair. “His fëa is not the same as before?”

“This fëa, the one that I found and let go-“

“You let him go?! You let that-“

“Yavanna please. Let Námo talk.” While he was composed on the outside, on the inside Manwë was confused and angry. Why had Námo let Fëanor go, even when the fëa wasn’t the same was a mystery for now.

“Thank you.” Námo nodded slightly before continuing. ”As I said before, his fëa is different. Not the one who we know. He hadn’t seen the same horrors we have.”

“Are you saying his fëa is from… Not this time?” Nesta leaned forward, elbows on her thighs.

“I’m… Not sure. He doesn’t remember his past, and his fëa is younger than the one that entered my halls.” The Doomsman sighed. ”It is also lighter. Free of evil, guilt and sadness. Like it never happened. The weight upon his fëa, the one his mother’s passing left on it is there but… Smaller. Lighter.”

“…How?” That was all Manwë could manage to say. Fëar weren’t known to switch between time. And they definitely weren’t known for letting go of such feelings. Even with time and healing, those scars remained like stains.

“I don’t know how. But the Oath he swore wasn’t his. Like it was gone. Like it was never there in the first place. I had to let him go. Even if I made him stay, my halls only accept those that are dead.” Námo made a point in stretching the last word.

“Do you mean that he-“

Námo took a deep breath. “Wherever he may have come from, this Fëanor- Nay, Fëanáro, hasn’t seen the chaos and blood. Hasn’t set foot in Beleriand, and is much alive. Wants to live.”

The Valar sat there in silence. Each contemplating what they heard and what else should they ask. The information, while greatly appreciated, was full with blank spots they had no answer for. How could this have happened and why? Why now and why to Fëanor? Does it have a reason? Something they weren’t privy to?

“Is there something else we need to know?” Aulë asked. The smith seemed to fall back into himself, looking worse than when Curumo had changed alliances. Worse when Mairon had become Sauron.

“He seems to… Believe that he and his… Other side of the family are close.”

“I- What?” Varda looked scandalized? Like someone just told her the stars she makes are nothing. Her usually bright silver eyes now a dull colour, her night black brows furrowed. “How? I mean- What?”

Sighing, the Vala rested his chin on his left hand. “When he was delivered to my quarters, he had a true smile upon his face. No fear in his eyes, or guilt. Just pure, uncorrupted happiness.” Shifting his weight, the Vala was now leaning over his armrest. “Which, quickly faded when both his son, Nelyafinwë Maitimo and his brother, Nolofinwë Aracáno hit him. It felt…” Deciding to send the image he had captured in his mind, the Vala shared it with the others through ósanwë. He didn’t miss the audible gasps, nor the sudden movement change in them. They understood his view.

“That… What should we do about him?” Vána asked, lifting her left leg over the right, then resting it on top of her armrest. “I mean, you all saw that! He isn’t Fëanor. Námo is right, he is Fëanáro.”

“I don’t know sister. For all we know, it could have been a ploy. He still could go down on the same road he did.”

“Oh Yavanna! He is obviously not the same Elda he once was.”

While the sisters bickered, Manwë too was in deep thought. It was true as light, for he saw it through Námo’s eyes. Fëanor- Nay, Fëanáro Curufinwë wasn’t the same when he was taken to Mandos, and yet he couldn’t allow him to go free.

“He will have to go back Námo. The Oath-“

“Is void. It’s not there. Like it never even existed.” Námo replied, without looking up from his palm. “He never swore it. And so it never anchored. His children are free to go as well.”

“He could still head down the same path.” Ulmo spoke, looking dark. It was true. Ulmo was still at odds with the Fëanorians and their people, for more reasons than one. Namely Alqualondë, Sirion… “I won’t have any more massacres.”

“He refused to give the Silmarils to us, to heal the trees! The very same ones who’s light under he grew up!” Yavanna crossed her arms. “I doubt it much he would give them up now freely!”

“He used my teachings for evil. But Melkor and his influence…” Aulë trailed off, talking to himself more then to anyone else.

Estë remained calm. “He hurt many. His sons hurt many. He caused pain and suffering. That’s not something I could forgive nor forget so suddenly.” His sister-in-law stilled. “Yet I can’t hold it against someone who is simply wearing the same face that committed them. His fëa is pure of this sin.”

One by one, the Valar each gave their reasons. And one by one, Námo countered them each.

“I understand your views and points. Yet you need to understand as well. I can’t hold him, when no Oath binds him. When he wishes to re-enter Arda. From the interaction, I can see he is not the same. You can see he cares deeply for his family. As a whole, not just for his own blood.” Námo pinched the bridge of his nose. “There is no guarantee he would make another silmaril, nor that he wouldn’t let us use it on the Trees if it was necessary. But we have to tell him, talk to him without saying judgment first. And while his inventions had caused much trouble and led to many dark outcomes, they helped. His actions…” Námo sighed. “Could they still be called his, when the fëa is different? When only the hröa remains?”

“Let us vote then.” Manwë rose from his chair. He wanted to think this whole situation over, but seeing the state the others were in, he decided to see what they would prefer. “Those that want Fëanor- Fëanáro Curufinwë to stay in Mandos raise your hands.”

He, Varda, Yavanna, Ulmo, Tulkas and Oromë raised their hands. The rest, Námo, Vairë, Irmo, Estë, Nienna, Nesta and Vána stayed put. Aulë looked lost, but didn’t raise his hand. Something Yavanna eyed him for.

Manwë took a look around and sighed. “Let it be then. Fëanáro Curufinwë will stay out of Mandos, his Oath will be void and we will talk with him about his silmarils.”

“Maybe we can use his connection to the gems to find them and break them open.”

“Yavanna dear, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The Earth-Queen scoffed but said nothing. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stood. “If that’s all, I have to get back to my plants.”

“That’s all.” The Sky King confirmed, and within a blink, the rest of the Valar were gone. Only he and Varda remained. “I do hope Námo knows what he is doing.”

Varda fell in line with his steps easily. “I fear what this could mean for us. How do we solve this?”

“I don’t know Varda. Noting like this has happened before.”

“What if… If atar is sending a message this way?”

Manwë stopped in his tracks. Could their father test him this way? Was this something he needed to solve? Was it something important for them?

“I… He could. I’m not sure if he would.” Holding a hand out for his wife, Manwë and Varda stepped into their palace, where both Eönwë and Olórin were already waiting for them.

“My Lady and Lord.” They bowed, eyes fixed on them.

“Is it true? That Fëanor was released?”

“Yes Eönwë, I’m afraid it is. That’s why I want you to make sure he is watched. I don’t want another… I don’t want anything bad to happen.” While he and Eönwë discussed the news about Fëanor and his release, Varda had pulled Olórin aside.

“Olórin, you have been to Middle-Earth. You have seen what is life there like. I want you to help Eönwë, but also see what Fëanor knows. I have a feeling something will happen. Neither bad nor good, but please, keep your eyes on him.”

“As My Lady wishes. Do you think we should fear an attack from somewhere?”

Varda sighed. Give it to Olórin to pick up on things. “I don’t think Morgoth is behind this, yet one can never truly know. And I fear for the safety of Fëanor. His fëa is not the one we know. It is from Arda, yet not. And I don’t know if his kin would welcome him with open arms.”

Olórin nodded. Turning more serious within the minute. “I see. I’ll see to it that trouble doesn’t find him. And see what else I can do in case Morgoth is behind this.”

Varda smiled. “Thank you. I feel your insight will be greatly needed.”

[1] Valarin name for Arda - aþāraphelūn

[2] Valarin for authority light, Eru Íluvatar – māχanāz ; ithīr