Vairë's Tapestries by Fiondil

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RECONCILIATION: Ascent

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RECONCILIATION: Ascent

SUMMARY: Often the hard lessons are the truest, as one Elf finally learns when he is offered redemption.

WARNING: Rated PG for intensity of imagery and subject-matter.

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"Open your eyes, child," Námo said softly.

It was always the same.

Sometimes he would open his eyes to find himself facing Námo, sometimes he would be facing away, but always they would be standing on the edge of one of Taniquetil’s high snow-clad precipices under a cold and uncaring star-bejeweled sky. Nothing in this ever changed, except minor details of no importance.

Always, whether facing in or out, he would open his eyes to fear, wondering how much longer his punishment would last. Always Námo leaned towards him and whispered, "This is not a punishment, child," then kissed him gently. On the brow. On the lips. On the cheek. It mattered not. Only one thing mattered...

With the kiss, Námo would whisper, "I love you," and then let him go.

And always he screamed as he fell, plummeting through the cloudscape below him until all sight was lost in the darkness.

He never seemed to ever reach the bottom....

"Open your eyes, child."

This time he was facing inward and gazed into Námo’s dark grey eyes. They were lit by an inner glow that spoke of an ancientness he could only begin to guess at. How many times had he stood in the Vala’s embrace waiting to fall? How many times had he heard the words Námo would speak? How many times had he felt Námo’s embrace loosen as he gently pushed him off the edge? He didn’t know. He didn’t care to know. He only knew he had to endure this, over and over again, because....

"This is not a punishment, child," Námo whispered, then kissed him on the lips as if he were kissing a lover. "I love you."

Before the arms let him go, this time he was able to stammer, "I... I’m sorry."

"I know," Námo said with a nod, then let him go.

This time he managed not to scream until he reached the clouds....

The next time — or maybe it was several times later, he was never sure — he managed to stammer, "I... I love you."

"I know," came the reply. It didn’t matter. Námo still opened his arms and let him go. HHe still fell, but he was weeping as he fell, not screaming. Darkness still took him in the end....

"Open your eyes, child." Not Námo this time. Vairë.

He knew this would happen eventually, though he always seemed to forget it. Everything would be the same, everything except the person holding him, and letting him go. Eventually, he knew now, he would be passed to each of the Valar. One by one they would kiss him... One by one they would tell him they loved him... One by one they would let him go... and he would continue to scream as he plummeted through cloudscapes in hopes of reaching a bottom he never could remember reaching.

He opened his eyes to see Vairë before him.

"I love you," he said quickly, hoping to stave off what he feared most, but the Valië merely shook her head, smiling sadly.

"It doesn’t work that way, child," she said unmoved by his protestations of love. "This is not a punishment."

He cowered in her embrace; wept as she kissed him lightly on the brow. "I love you, child."

Then with a single swift motion, she turned him around and gave him a gentle push into the void. The dark clouds below him came up swiftly and he plunged through them, screaming. Face down or face up, it mattered not. Minor details were unimportant....

"Open your eyes, child." Tulkas this time. For some reason falling into this Vala’s hands frightened him more than anything else. When he finally did open his eyes he saw the Vala smiling at him.

"You have always been too serious for your own good, child," Tulkas told him with a laugh and then to his utter horror he felt the Vala’s fingers searching his body, teasing it so that he started to squeal and then laugh as the Vala discovered his sensitive spots. Tulkas laughed along with him as he writhed in the Vala’s embrace, laughter forced out of him. He shrieked as the intensity of the tickling increased, shrieked like an elfling or like a lover in the throes of ecstasy and then he felt Tulkas lift him up high over his head.

"I love you," the Vala shouted and threw him into space. Shrieks of laughter turned into shrieks of terror. He always wished he had the time to be thoroughly sick....

Tulkas always forced him to laugh, always forced him into the pure abandonment of ecstasy, making him shriek like a virgin on her wedding night. Sometimes the Vala would throw him up into the air as if he were an elfling being tossed by a loving parent. Between his shrieks he would beg the Vala to stop, but Tulkas only laughed the harder.

"Foolish child," he would say. "This is not a punishment." Then he would kiss him on the lips, always the lips, tenderly and sweetly, as if he were indeed the Vala’s lover. Tulkas would then give him one more tickle that would set him shrieking again before tossing him out into the void.

A time came that he heard Tulkas’ voice and found himself writhing in anticipation of the ecstasy to come without even bothering to open his eyes. He moaned and nuzzled the Vala’s neck and whispered, "I love you."

"But not that way," the Vala said with a laugh. "Open your eyes, child," he commanded and there was no choice but to obey. Tulkas turned him around so he was facing out into space. As always the stars shone down in implacable disregard of what was happening to him, jewels shining in the tapestry of night. Below, the snow-covered mountainside glowed palely, while clouds scuttled across its flanks, hiding the lower reaches from his sight.

"A beautiful night," Tulkas said conversationally. "Look! Eärendil sails before us. See the silmaril shining from the mast?"

He looked and saw Vingilot and he shivered, though he did not know why. He looked up at the Vala and began weeping. "I love you... please... I love you."

"I know child," Tulkas whispered, and for the first time Tulkas Astaldo bent down and kissed him on the cheek rather than on the lips. "This is not a punishment, beloved." Then the Vala lifted him up and threw him into the night. The ecstasy of flight, though brief, was worth the terror that followed as he plunged into the darkness below.

He wasn’t sure, but of all the Valar into whose embrace he fell, Tulkas was the one with whom he seemed to spend the longest before being passed on to the next Vala....

"Open your eyes, child."

Aulë.

He was weeping before he could even comply with the Vala’s command. He had been Aulë’s apprentice once. He remembered that, though he remembered little else about himself. He always felt the deepest shame when he found himself in Aulë’s embrace. Aulë never treated him with anything but kindness but that didn’t matter, he was ashamed nonetheless. He only wished he could remember why.

"This is not a punishment, my apprentice-that-was," Aulë would tell him and hold him lovingly as he continued weeping, letting him cry himself out before kissing him and pushing him off the precipice....

He could never decide if it was worse to fall into the hands of the Valar or the Valier. Yavanna... Estë... Nessa... they looked upon him with such compassion but he always felt that they secretly despised him, Varda especially.

"Nay, child," the Queen of Stars said when he finally came to her. "We do not despise you, never have. Once, we pitied you, so lost you were and we wept for you."

"Pitied me?" he whispered, fearful of the answer, but willing to listen if it meant delaying the inevitable, if only for a few brief seconds.

Varda leaned down and stroked his hair and smiled. "Yes, love. You were so pitiful when you first came to us, weeping and trembling in fear. It nearly broke my heart to see you in such straits."

"I-I don’t remember."

"No reason why you should, my pet."

"And now?"

"Now I love you." She kissed him on the brow and smiled tenderly at him.

He still screamed going down... and the time after that... and the time after that... and....

"Open your eyes, child," ordered the Elder King.

For some reason he never seemed to mind falling into Manwë’s embrace, terrifying though it might be. He opened his eyes to find Manwë calmly looking at him.

"I’m sorry," he said. He always said that whenever he found himself with the Elder King. He could not remember what he was supposed to be sorry for, he only knew that he meant it.

Manwë nodded gravely. "I know you are, child."

"It doesn’t change anything, does it?"

"On the contrary. It changes a great many things. You know that I love you, don’t you?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Do you know why?"

He shook his head. Always the question was asked, but he never knew the answer and the despair he felt at his failing tore through him. He barely felt the Elder King’s kiss or felt himself being pushed off the edge....

"Open your eyes, child."

"I’m sorry."

"I know you are, child."

"I love you."

"Do you know why?"

"No. Forgive me. I don’t... forgive me, please forgive me." He was weeping now and Manwë held him tightly.

"I do forgive you, child. I have always forgiven you, always will." Then the Elder King kissed him on the brow. "I love you."

"I know."

"This is not a punishment, best beloved, believe that."

But it was difficult to do so when you were plummeting down the side of a mountain screaming into darkness....

"It’s all right, you know."

"What’s all right, child?"

He was again in Manwë’s embrace, this time facing out into the star-studded sky. "You can let go of me. I’m not afraid anymore."

"I’m glad to hear that, my love. Very glad."

No, he wasn’t afraid, but lack of fear did not prevent him from screaming towards the end anyway....

"I think I understand now."

"What do you understand?"

"This isn’t a punishment, it never was."

"What was it then?"

He did not answer for the longest time, for in truth he had not even thought that far ahead. It had taken him so long just to get to this point, to see what they had all been telling him.

"A... a lesson?" he asked tentatively.

Manwë smiled warmly and nodded. "As good an answer as any, child, and better than most."

"I love you," he told the Elder King.

"I know," Manwë replied, "and I’m sorry."

He nodded, then began to weep in earnest. "You’re my atar aren’t you? That’s why you love me, isn’t it?"

Manwë held him close. "That’s why we all love you. We are all your atari and amilli, if you could just see that."

He thought about it for awhile. "I forgive you Atar."

"Forgive me for what, child?"

"For what you are about to do to me again."

"Thank you, my son. You don’t know how much your forgiveness means to me."

This time he had nearly reached the bottom before he started screaming....

"Open your eyes, child."

He sighed and complied with the command. This time he was facing inward and Manwë held him close to him. He reached up with one hand and began caressing the Elder King’s face the way a young child will caress a parent’s cheek. Manwë allowed him the time he needed, never speaking, merely rubbing his back gently, lovingly, as a parent will comfort a small child. Finally he reached up and kissed Manwë on the cheek.

"You can let go now. I love you, Atar."

"I know," and the Elder King of Arda kissed his best beloved gently on the brow, then whispered "Namárië," into his ear before releasing him.

One step. That’s all it would take. That’s all that was necessary. Just one step. He looked up at Manwë and smiled. "Namárië," he whispered and without looking, backed off the edge of the precipice.

He was smiling as he fell, for he now realized that he was not falling into despair and darkness. Rather, he was falling into Love, had always been falling into Love. The Valar had only been giving him a gentle push in the right direction.

He was still smiling when the ground rose up to meet him. He never felt the impact....

"Open your eyes, child." Námo again.

He whimpered and tried to move out of the Vala’s embrace, but Námo just drew him in closer. He had lost count the number of times he had fallen into Námo’s arms, for always he would be passed from one Vala to the next, beginning with Námo and ending with Manwë only to be passed to Námo again. He remembered the second time that had happened he had collapsed to his knees, pleading to the Vala not to continue.

"Imsorryimsorryimsorry...."

Námo had simply picked him up. "It doesn’t work that way, my best beloved. It never does."

The third time he had simply stood there in dejected resignation of what had to be. Námo had looked upon him with pity, but it didn’t stop him from pushing him off the edge of the precipice.

"Open your eyes, child," Námo said again with quiet insistence.

He sighed, wondering how many more times he would be passed from one Vala to the next. He did not think he could endure it, but knew that he must. He had no other choice. He opened his eyes, and everything changed....

****

"Welcome home, child."

He blinked up at the Lord of Mandos, not sure what was happening, for he found himself lying in Námo’s arms as the Vala sat in an ornately carved chair and they were no longer on the mountain. He shifted his gaze to take in his surroundings and found himself in a garden. The profusion of color and scents was almost overpowering and he cringed somewhat, closing his eyes.

"Where am I?" he said, or tried to. For some reason his throat refused to work properly and what came out sounded garbled. Námo, however, seemed to understand what he was trying to say.

"You are in one of the Gardens of the Reborn," the Vala said. "Here you will stay for a time."

He opened his eyes in surprise. "Reborn?" he managed to whisper.

"Yes, child," Námo said, then divining the confusion in the ellon’s mind, he continued to explain. "You thought you would never be reborn, didn’t you?" The ellon shook his head and Námo nodded. "But all has been renewed and forgiven and now you are here in this garden."

"My family?"

"Soon you will be reunited with your family, all of them," Námo promised with a warm smile, "for now, though, you must learn to live again."

"Live," the ellon sighed and it was such a sweet word. He closed his eyes, feeling suddenly lethargic and soon was drifting back into sleep.

Námo gazed down upon the Firstborn in his arms and smiled gently. "That’s it, child. Sleep and be refreshed. When you waken again, everything will be different... for all of us." He raised the ellon’s head slightly and bent down to kiss his brow. "Welcome home, indeed, Fëanáro," he whispered and Fëanáro smiled in his sleep even as he nestled further into Námo’s embrace.

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Atari: (Quenya) Plural of atar: Father.

Amilli: (Quenya) Plural of amillë: Mother.