The Wars of the Valar by Fiondil

---

Chapter 17: Adjustments

---

17: Adjustments

Námo finally settled on an orange-red giant to sleep in. Before doing so, though, he did gather all his Máyar around him as he nestled against the star’s core with Irmo by his side. Manwë’s Máyar ranged around the corona of the star on guard, though they were privy to the conversation going on inside, a conversation that was both alarming and illuminating.

"Now, what do you want to tell me?" Námo asked once he stopped fidgeting.

Everyone else had remained perfectly still while their lord settled. Maranwë noticed that if any of them came within a certain distance, Námo became agitated, so he sent a silent command to his fellow Máyar to stay outside that distance. Only Irmo apparently was able to be inside Námo’s ‘space’ without causing his brother distress. Maranwë sighed, wondering how long it was going to take before they got their lord back.

*He will never be the same as before, child,* he felt Manwë bespeak him with compassion, *but he will still be your Lord and you and your brethren must take comfort in that thought.*

*Yes, lord,* Maranwë acknowledged with some reluctance, then focused his concentration on Námo. "We’ve been having trouble with a certain part of Eä," he explained, sending the spatiotemporal coordinates automatically. "Nothing seems to want to stay put and we think...." here he glanced at Tindomerel and Calimo with whom he worked most closely, "we think time may be running backwards."

Námo did not say anything at first as if thinking... or remembering. He turned to Irmo. "I thought Aulë checked that area out."

"He was going to, brother," Irmo said, "but then Vairë..."

Námo’s expression was one of puzzlement. "What about Vairë? She knows nothing of quantum mechanics or interdimensional physics."

Irmo gave his brother a considering look. "Do you not remember Vairë and Therindë being kidnapped, Námo?" he asked as gently as he could.

Then the Máyar watched as their lord’s aura went incandescent and they could all feel his shock as apparently a memory that had been buried now surfaced.

"The nermir," Námo whispered. "The nermir... th-they... came and... I was... I was one of them."

"Yes, brother," Irmo whispered back, silently alerting Manwë at an entirely different frequency about what was happening, "you were one of them... for a time."

"They were so beautiful," Námo’s tone was one of awe. "They were so beautiful," he repeated, "and I was... I was...."

To Maranwë’s horror and that of his fellow Máyar their lord began weeping, leaning into Irmo’s embrace. Irmo rocked him gently. "And you are just as beautiful, brother," he said firmly, "else the nermir would not have accepted you amongst them, for they are Beauty personified and will not suffer anything that is not beautiful in their midst."

That seemed to be just the right thing to say, for Námo’s aura quieted to it’s more normal hue, though it was still tinged with a shade of bluish-green that Irmo had come to recognize meant ‘doubt’ to his brother.

"Do... do you think so?" Námo asked hesitantly.

"Nay, brother," Irmo said with an encouraging smile, "I do not think so, I know so. Whatever happened you are still very beautiful. Don’t ever doubt that."

"I don’t feel...."

"What you feel and what you are are not always the same thing, child."

Manwë was suddenly in their midst. The Máyar bowed to the Eldest, who acknowledged them with a smile before returning his attention to Námo. "Right now, your feelings are suspect," he said. "You should not trust them wholly where you yourself are concerned. Let us guide you there and, if not us, then Atar."

For a time Námo did not respond, then finally the bluish-green tinge in his aura faded and he appeared more calm. Manwë noted with interest and approval that Námo did not seek to remove himself from Irmo’s embrace when he turned to address Maranwë. "You were saying?" he asked.

Maranwë realized that Námo’s tone was once again that of his lord. He gave Manwë a glance and, receiving a nod of encouragement, continued his report. "We’ve done what we could to contain the area in question, my Lord, but we are at a loss as to what to do next. Lords Aulë and Ulmo have not been... present of late, so we could not consult them."

Námo nodded and turned to Manwë. "Have Aulë look into it, will you? If I remember correctly, I believed one of the higher dimensions was unstable and possibly causing the temporal disruptions." He gave a sigh of disgust. "I find it annoying that that part of Eä keeps sliding back along the spatiotemporal continuum towards Primal Chaos rather than towards Final Entropy."

The Ayanuz’s tone was almost petulant and Irmo found himself laughing. "One would think that Eä is doing this on purpose merely to annoy you, brother, the way you carry on."

Námo gave him a surprised look. "You mean it isn’t?"

Both Irmo and Manwë laughed and Maranwë found himself grinning along with the other Máyar. Then, Námo’s aura shaded towards indigo and Irmo gave him a shake.

"Oh no, brother," Irmo admonished him. "Whatever you’re thinking, don’t."

"But it’s time to play," Námo protested.

"No, Námo," Manwë intervened. "It’s time for sleeping. You may play later."

Now Námo’s aura moved toward green tinged with orange. That was always a bad sign, Irmo knew, for during his sojourn in the tenth dimension, he had learned the hard way that such a shift in his brother’s aura presaged a temper tantrum. Manwë obviously recognized the signs as well even if Námo’s Máyar did not.

"Remember what I told you, Námo," Manwë said firmly, attempting to stave off the coming storm, "about placing you among the Máyar."

That stopped Námo cold and sent a frisson of shock through the Máyar listening. Maranwë felt a sick feeling run through him at the thought of his lord suffering further humiliation even at the hands of the Eldest, whom he knew had only Námo’s best interest at heart.

"You said you would do that if I didn’t come back with you," Námo said almost accusingly.

Manwë nodded. "And I meant it. I also mean it now. Learn to control yourself and obey me or I will demote you until you are ready to resume your proper place among us."

No one moved while Námo thought out the implications of Manwë’s words. Slowly, the orange-tinged green of his aura faded, moving closer to violet again, though it remained darker than normal. Maranwë was beginning to understand that this signified sorrow or perhaps even fear on Námo’s part. He ached to see his lord looking so bereft and wished he could do something about it.

Then inspiration hit, or perhaps, on further reflection, it was a nudge from Atar. Maranwë shot a private thought to his fellow Máyar who all silently agreed to his plan. Then he sought permission from Manwë to carry it out, which was granted. Finally, Maranwë turned to Námo with a bow.

"My Lord," he said formally, "we strove mightily on thy behalf whilst thou wert gone and find that we are ourselves weary of our labors. Wouldst thou grant us leave to rest with thee?"

Námo gave his Chief Máya a considering look. "Are you truly fatigued Maranwë or are you just humoring me?"

"Oh no, my Lord," Tindomerel broke in. "I have seen the Lady Estë eyeing us of late and we feared she would order us to our rest and none of us wished to do so until thou didst return so we might give thee our report."

Calimo nodded and grinned. "We are that glad of thy return, Lord, for none of us wished to be on the receiving end of one of Lady Estë’s lectures."

There were quiet chuckles all around at that and when Námo smiled as well, all were secretly pleased. He nodded. "No, we wouldn’t want that, would we? Very well, my children, let us get comfortable then."

With that, he leaned further into Irmo’s embrace, much to his brother’s delight, while Maranwë directed the other Máyar to range themselves throughout the star, though cautioning them not to settle too closely to the core, which all instinctively understood was off limits. Manwë watched with amusement as two or three of the Máyar began arguing softly over a particular spot that, frankly, looked no different from any other spot, knowing full well they were doing it only for show, even if Námo was not completely aware of it. In fact, Námo seemed to be oblivious to everything now that he was settled in Irmo’s embrace, softly humming Atar’s lullaby to himself as he slowly drifted towards true sleep. His Máyar, listening to the tune, softly picked it up as Námo’s mind faded toward unconsciousness and quietly serenaded their lord and master for a time until, one by one, they too, slipped into a state of rest. Soon, the only Máyar still awake were Manwë’s People guarding the star. Manwë gave Irmo a nod of satisfaction, then left him to watch over his brother and his brother’s Máyar alone.

****

A routine was quickly established. Námo would awaken and demand to play, which was disconcerting to the Máyar at first, though the Ayanumuz seemed to take it in good humor. Eventually, the Máyar, especially Námo’s People, fell into the spirit of things, even discussing beforehand among themselves what ‘games’ they might play with their lord that would keep him amused. Námo, of course, would have happily played away forever but Manwë always set a time limit. Námo learned quickly to obey the Eldest when he called a halt to the play and stated that it was time for the younger Ayanuz to take up his duties again. Then, with one of his fellow Ayanuz by his side — usually Irmo or Oromë, but occasionally Aulë or Ulmo, and once even Manwë himself — he and his Máyar would range through Eä, completing their tasks, with Manwë’s guards surrounding them.

At first Námo was hesitant and unsure of his duties or his abilities to carry them out. He apparently had forgotten much of his life before his capture and the memories were only beginning to surface. Sometimes he was at a loss as to what to do even when Maranwë or one of the other Máyar patiently explained the situation. There was a level of frustration that seemed to build up at these times and when the level reached a certain point Manwë would step in and order Námo and his Máyar to rest. It became a game for the Máyar to then start listing the pros and cons of sleeping in a particular star. Some even got up the nerve to argue with Námo over their lord’s own selection and Maranwë was secretly pleased at this, for Námo showed better humor and was less likely to argue with Manwë about it.

Not that it was always smooth sailing. At one point they were seeing to a certain quadrant of Eä that was somewhat further from their home galaxy than they had previously gone with their lord. Perhaps beginning to feel hemmed in by all who guarded him, Námo’s aura went from pure violet to deep red in a nanosecond without any warning or provocation and he started lashing out at all who were there, sending electromagnetic bolts of energy into Irmo and several of the Máyar standing nearest to him. None of the bolts actually hurt anyone, they were more stunned by the viciousness of the attack rather than by any pain they might have felt. Maranwë, especially, felt the brunt of his lord’s anger and was dismayed. Almost before anyone else could react, Aulë, Ulmo and Oromë suddenly emerged and converged on Námo, holding him down by the strength of their Wills. Námo started screaming and thrashing about. The Máyar, once they were recovered, looked on in shock and horror, not knowing what to do. Manwë came then, along with Varda and Estë. The latter two took the Máyar aside to give them assurances and comfort while the Eldest handled Námo. Irmo, once he recovered from his own shock, joined his fellow Ayanumuz in holding Námo down.

"Do not let up your hold on him for a second," Manwë commanded the others calmly.

"We haven’t seen one of these fits in some time," Aulë said, almost clinically, for in truth, the combined Wills of the three Máhanumaz was more than enough to keep Námo in place without overtaxing any of them. Irmo’s additional aid was, in fact, quite unnecessary, but the others welcomed it, recognizing the younger Ayanuz’s need to help.

"What brought it on?" Manwë asked.

Irmo, still recovering from the attack and already feeling fatigued with the strain of helping to constrain his brother, answered wearily. "I don’t know. One minute we’re discussing the need to move some of the dark matter here to another quadrant of Eä and the next thing we know he explodes."

"Rest you, Little Brother," Aulë said not unkindly. "We have this one under control. We thank you for your help, but you are obviously in pain yourself."

"Aulë is correct, Irmo," Estë said, coming to them. "Come, let me check you over. You need to rest for a time and restore your energy."

Irmo reluctantly agreed but only after the Máhanumaz assured him that they had things well in hand, being careful to praise him for the quickness in which he called for help in spite of being stunned by the energy bolts. Manwë further assured him that all was well and no blame was attached to him for what had happened. Estë cast Manwë a grateful look at that last statement, knowing full well that Irmo would blame himself for not anticipating Námo’s actions.

In the meantime, Námo’s tantrum continued, though not with its original force. Manwë did nothing to stay it, merely waiting patiently until at last Námo subsided, the orange-red hue of his rage flickering back towards a royal violet that signified his normal state of emotional calmness. When the last of his thrashings and screaming subsided and he became still, Manwë silently ordered the others away. Námo did not move and now his aura was tinged with yellow, his thought processes showing confusion. He became aware of Manwë standing near him.

"Wh-what’s wrong?" he asked almost fearfully.

"You attacked your brother and your Máyar," Manwë answered, deciding that telling Námo the bald truth was the best course to take.

Námo stared at him in disbelief. "No," he whispered, shaking in denial. "No, oh no, oh no...."

"Námo, look at me," Manwë commanded quietly, his tone brooking no denial.

It took some time for Námo to comply but finally he did. For a time, Manwë merely stared at the younger Ayanuz, seeing the sense of shame, guilt and fear roiling within him. He ached for this child but knew he could not show any sympathy as yet until he got to the bottom of it all.

"Why did you attack your brethren?" Manwë finally asked.

Námo’s answer was nearly inaudible. "He... he was hurting me... he was hu-hurting me... I didn’t want him to hurt me anymore... you pro-promised he wouldn’t hurt me anymore...."

Manwë sighed, and sent a silent plea to Atar for help, but Atar’s only response was to send him a wave of love. It was not what he’d hoped for but he welcomed the warmth of Atar’s regard nonetheless.

Námo, in the meantime was weeping again, practically crawling before Manwë and pleading. "Pl-please don’t hurt me... I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I didn’t mean it... please don’t..."

"Oh, child," Manwë said compassionately as he stooped down and gathered Námo into his embrace. "None of us want to hurt you. Hush now, all is well. You must have had a very bad memory surface and felt threatened."

"He was hurting me... he was...."

"Shhh. I know he was," Manwë whispered, "but he’s not hurting you now, is he?" Námo’s aura brightened a bit, indicating agreement with Manwë’s words. "Then you are safe. Come, you should not be here." With that, he gave a command for all the others to follow and, carefully encompassing Námo’s mind with his own, thought them back to their own galaxy. Then, he ordered Maranwë to find them a suitable star and soon Námo was wrapping himself around the core of a blue-white giant. Irmo gently rocked the core to help his brother relax while Námo’s Máyar stood around and sang him to sleep.

Those looking on from outside noticed how the star’s luminosity would brighten and then dim in rhythm with Irmo’s rocking.

****

Once he was assured that Námo was asleep, Manwë joined the other Ayanumuz.

"Do you know what set him off?" Varda asked with concern.

"Do any of you recognize where they were?" Manwë asked his own question.

"I do," Oromë answered, his normally bright orange aura darkening somewhat. "It’s near where he and I fled the time we encountered Melkor in Varda’s star nursery."

"I thought you fled to our own galaxy," Varda countered.

Oromë’s aura went towards yellow, indicating denial. "That’s where we finally ended up," he explained, "but first we hid in a red giant." He gave them the coordinates and all could see that the star was very close to where Námo had had his attack. "He barely allowed me to hold him through the spasms of disgust he was feeling at the time."

"Then you think the proximity of the place triggered the memory?" Estë asked.

"Possibly," Manwë conceded. "We just don’t know enough of how all this works. He’s suppressed much of his memories, even the good ones. Atar has told me it was necessary for him to forget all so he could accept all. I did not understand at first, but now I think I’m beginning to."

"He’s not asked after Vairë, except that one time," Varda said, her expression one of concern, "and then he seemed to simply accept her absence as a matter of course."

"I do not think he’s remembered the way he feels about her," Oromë offered. "Perhaps the emotions he might feel are too close to what he feels towards Melkor but for a different reason."

The other Ayanumuz gazed upon Oromë with some wonder and respect. Manwë nodded. "You see further into our brother’s fëa than I suspect even Irmo does, my son. I imagine that in this regard you are correct."

"I had thought to summon Vairë and Nienna back," Varda said, "for I was hoping that Vairë’s presence would help with Námo’s healing, but now I’m not so sure."

"I think you are wise not to, beloved," Manwë replied with a warm smile for his spouse. "Námo has too many other emotions to deal with right now."

"Yet, to deny Vairë, Nienna or their Máyar their rightful places beside us as we labor towards the building of Atháraphelun," Ulmo suggested, "does not sit well with me, with any of us."

"I know," Manwë sighed. "I think, however, in this we must allow Námo to make the first move. When he himself asks after Vairë, then, I believe, he will be ready to deal with the emotions attached to her memory."

"He still needs to release Vairë’s Máyar back to her," Yavanna pointed out. "There’s been no formal ceremony of redemption. Technically, they still belong to Námo, though we have allowed them to go with Vairë."

"Yes," Manwë agreed, "but let us deal with that later. When Vairë returns will be time enough for all to be restored to their proper spheres. In the meantime, let us endeavor to prevent a repeat of what just happened." He turned to Oromë. "You know better than any those places in Eä where Námo might feel threatened by a memory. Mark them and give their coordinates to Maranwë."

Oromë bowed. "It shall be as you say, lord."

"I think we should take some time for relaxation," Estë said. "I can sense that many among us are still upset and distraught. Some time in play, without Námo this time, might be in order."

The others nodded and smiled, for play with Námo tended to be somewhat frenetic. Soon, all were dispersed to pursue their favorite pastimes, leaving Manwë and Varda to themselves.

"This is going to be harder than any of us anticipated," Varda finally said as the two settled on a nearby world that orbited a yellow dwarf star and incarnated so they could swim in the planet’s one ocean.

"We’ll survive," Manwë opined with a wry grin as they entered the warm waters, "though I grant you, it’ll be a near thing."

Varda smiled, then her eyes glinted with mischief and before Manwë could avoid it, she was pushing him into the surf. He came up sputtering and laughing and went to grab her. When he finally did catch up with her on one of the beaches of a small island in the middle of the ocean, it was because she wanted to be caught. After that, all thoughts of Námo and their concerns for him fled as they enjoyed each other’s company.