The Wars of the Valar by Fiondil

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Chapter 54: The Trial of the Fallen

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54: The Trial of the Fallen

It took some time for the destruction to settle. When it did all could see that Utumno was nearly in ruins. Manwë decided it was unnecessary for them to open the thin wall of dirt separating the waters of the canal from the gates of the fortress.

"Let us find our Fallen Brother first before we make any other decisions," he said and with that he clothed himself in hröa and the others followed suit.

The air was thick with sulphurous clouds and ash still, blocking out the light of the stars and the volcanoes to the north were still belching out lava, but the Ayanumuz ignored all that. Moving cautiously with their Màyar about them, they started towards the broken gates when all of a sudden there was a stirring from inside and several of the fire-demons, though not Cosmoco Námo noticed, came rushing out like a molten tide of flame, heading straight for Manwë. Eönwë, standing beside his lord carrying Manwë’s standard, cried out. He pushed the standard into Olórin’s hands and went for his sword, as did several of the other Máyar, all intent on protecting their lord.

It proved unnecessary, for even as the first of the fire-demons came near enough to use its whip, Manwë raised his own sword and spoke a Word. A flash of pure celestial lightning came forth from the point of his sword and every one of the demons cried out in pain, writhing in agony as their hröar withered in the wind and were gone.

There was absolute silence for the longest time as everyone alternated between staring at the space where the demons had been and casting surreptitious looks of awe and amazement at Manwë, who ignored them all.

"Well, shall we get on with it?" he asked no one in particular, his tone quiet and matter-of-fact.

Eönwë was the first to recover, sheathing his sword and retrieving the standard from Olórin, before turning to Manwë with a look of complete worship. "Lord, I did not know you could do that!" he exclaimed.

Manwë gave his Herald a wry grin. "Neither did I," he said.

Several eyebrows went up. "Then how...." Varda started to ask and Manwë just shrugged. "I’m not sure. I just... did it."

Námo nodded. "I had a similar experience when the first fëa arrived in my Halls. Something inside of me opened up and I suddenly just knew what I was supposed to do without really understanding how or why."

The others gave Námo looks of respect mixed with sympathy, for they knew how difficult it was for him to speak of what had happened when the first fëar started arriving in his Halls so unexpectedly.

Manwë nodded. "Yes. I think that is what happened here." He sighed and his eyes narrowed. "Well, shall we go see if our brother is receiving visitors today?" His tone was dark and serious, but they could not help but laugh at the words.

Aulë called for a wooden chest bound with mithril that he had insisted on bringing with him from Amanaphelun. Until now, he had refused to speak of its contents, saying only that what lay inside was needful for the war effort. Taking a key from around his neck, he opened the chest and for the first time the Ayanumuz beheld Angainor, the Oppressor. They stared at it in wonder as Aulë brought it forth. It was a chain and they could see that it was made from copper, silver, tin, lead, iron and gold and they felt the spells that welded them to a substance of uttermost hardness, brightness and smoothness. Between each link was another metal, an alloy that seemed to possess all the properties of the other six and many of its own. It flashed green and red depending on the angle as starlight shone upon it through the clearing smoke and clouds. There were two manacles and four fetters made from this seventh metal. The entirety glittered with a deadly beauty that sent shivers through more than one fëa.

Námo stared at the chain in growing dread. "That... that’s the chain Melkor...."

Aulë nodded. "With some improvements of my own. When Irmo brought it to me I decided to study its properties more closely. It was rather crudely made, but effective in its purpose in keeping you, Vairë and Therindë in hröa." He gave them a fierce look. "Melkor is going to regret ever having made this."

Manwë nodded. "Let us go then. Eönwë, you have charge of the Máyar, while we Ayanumuz deal with our brother. Keep an eye on Angamando. It does not appear to be as damaged as Utumno, so Aulendil may decide to attack, if only to provide a distraction while his master attempts to flee."

Eönwë bowed and immediately began issuing his own orders while the Ayanumuz, with Manwë and Aulë in the lead, made their way inside Utumno. Just beyond the gates there were narrow stairs that descended out of sight into stygian gloom. It was the only thing that appeared to have survived the impact, though many of the steps were broken and they had to take care in their descent. The way was tortuous and they passed several levels now empty of anything save the bodies of the fell creatures of Melkor’s making that had not survived the destruction. The lower they went the less destruction they encountered.

Aulë examined the stonework with professional interest, the granite pillars upholding the ceiling unadorned but solidly built. "He may be evil, but he knows how to build things to last," he muttered with a tone of approval that made more than one of his companions stifle a laugh.

Finally, they came upon a deep hall lit with flaming braziers. Several dim passages entered the chamber from different directions and the Ayanumuz warily cast about to make sure there were none of the enemy lurking in them. There was an aura of evil that surrounded them, and they could feel the dark spells that had been wrought there. Strange shapes shifted with feverish movements in and out, while giant white pythons curled and uncurled without rest about the pillars that formed an avenue down the center of the chamber. At the other end was a dais upon which stood a throne made from volcanic rock as black and unforgiving as the one who sat in it.

They had found Melkor.

Manwë gave an involuntary gasp, his expression stricken as he gazed upon his brother. Melkor was shrunken, no longer the mighty Ayanuz whom he had last seen on Dáhanigwishtelgun overlooking the desert plains of Nasarphelun. It was obvious that Melkor had bled much of his power away, leaving only a shell of what he had once been behind, though it still held more power within it than any of the Children would ever comprehend. "Oh, Brother," Manwë whispered, shock mingled with pity rising within him, "what hast thou wrought in thyself?"

Melkor sneered from his throne. "What is the matter, Brother? You do not approve? You are such naive fools, all of you!" Then he sprang to his feet, shouting in a loud voice. At once, several of his folk came through the dismal passages to his aid. Then Melkor lashed at Manwë with an iron flail that he bore, but Manwë took a step back and breathed gently upon it and its iron tassels were blown backwards.

Almost at the same time, Tulkas sprang forward and attacked Melkor, wrestling the iron flail from his grasp and throwing him down to the floor before jumping on him. Screams of rage echoed through the chamber and the pythons slithered off their pillars, making their serpentine way among the Ayanumuz. Most were destroyed by the Ayanumuz who were fending off the attack by Melkor’s other folk. The one or two that survived slithered off into the darkness. Námo noticed that none of the fire-demons or the Úmáya known as Yelur were among the attackers. It did not take long for the Ayanumuz to overwhelm the pitiful troops and then Melkor was alone again.

Tulkas snarled at a particularly underhanded maneuver from his opponent and slammed his fist that was encased in an iron gauntlet full in Melkor’s teeth. At the same time Aulë leaped forward with Angainor and began wrapping him in it while Tulkas continued to pin him down. Melkor screamed as the first link of the chain touched his skin and he attempted to escape by disincarnating, but Námo, watching it all with a dispassionate air, doubted that their Fallen Brother was even capable of going incorporeal any longer. It mattered not, for Angainor was quickly wrapped about him.

Manwë stared down at his brother and sighed. Looking at Tulkas and Aulë, he nodded. "Let us take him back to Amanaphelun to stand trial."

"What of Utumno?" Oromë asked. "Should we not have its chambers checked to see that none of Melkor’s evil spawn remain? Cosmoco and Yelur, I see, are not here and I would fain learn of their whereabouts."

"And what of Acairis?" Vairë asked suddenly. "I was surprised not to see her standing by her master’s side."

"She was not seen throughout the long siege," Námo said. "Perhaps she was never here."

"Well, we will have the Máyar search the fortress for clues of the whereabouts of the missing Úmáyar," Manwë said. Then with a nod to the others, he began climbing back to the surface.

Tulkas and Aulë hauled Melkor to his feet and dragged him up the stairs until they were outside again, the stars glowing fitfully between the ragged edges of the clouds that were slowly dispersing. Already some of the Máyar were moving to enter Utumno to check the lower vaults and caverns while the rest remained vigilant against Angamando. Then Aulë bound Melkor’s feet with the fetters and his wrists with the manacles and the metal of which they were made went red. Melkor screamed again at the touch of the metal, screams that became whimpers. Manwë stared at his brother dispassionately and only Námo guessed at the anguish hidden behind his implacable mien. "Blindfold him," he ordered and turned to give final orders to Eönwë who would remain behind to oversee the search of Utumno. Tulkas cast Melkor a wide grin as he conjured some cloth to cover Melkor’s eyes. The Fallen One began mouthing invectives again and Tulkas caused another piece of material to appear and shoved it into Melkor’s mouth.

Melkor’s bonds made it impossible for him to go incorporeal and the Ayanumuz decided not to risk transporting him any other way except to physically force him to cross the land bridge that had brought them to the Outer World. Each of them decided it would be best if they accompanied Manwë, Tulkas and Aulë with their prisoner.

"Just in case," Varda said to her spouse and he did not dispute her. In the meantime, Eönwë came to report on the findings of the Máyar.

"We have seen no sign of Aulendil, Cosmoco, Yelur, or Acairis," he told them. "We did discover a tunnel that connects the two fortresses but Angamando proved empty, or at least those parts of it that we explored. In truth, my lord, both Utumno and Angamando are labyrinths of caverns and passages. I doubt we will ever find them all.."

"Should we go ahead and flood Utumno then?" Ulmo asked, his eyes glittering in anticipation at the thought.

Manwë shook his head. "I do not see the point. We have Melkor and that is the important thing. I think we should call the Máyar home, save those still guarding the Children. If Aulendil and the others are hiding somewhere, they may seek to take revenge on the Firstborn for their master’s downfall. Until we know for sure they are safe, I want the Children guarded at all times."

"I still think Utumno and Angamando should be flooded," Ulmo said with a frown. "I hate to leave them as they are."

Manwë thought for a moment before nodding and addressing Eönwë. "Have the Máyar pile a hill of stones over Utumno to ensure that whatever may lurk in the shadows cannot escape to trouble the world. Do the same with Angamando."

"Just to be safe," Aulë said, "destroy the tunnel connecting the two fortresses."

Manwë nodded and Eönwë bowed to his lord and departed. Oromë turned to Námo, his expression grim. "Something tells me we may regret not allowing Ulmo to flood the fortresses," he said quietly so only Námo heard.

"Perhaps," Námo said gravely, "but I think we should concentrate our attention on what we plan to do with our brother and the Quendi. The doom of the one may well dictate the doom of the other."

Oromë gave him a considering look, but said nothing as the Ayanumuz continued towards Amanaphelun. They went by ways long and dark, over ice fields and across desolate tundra, with Aulë, Ulmo, Tulkas and Oromë guarding Melkor every moment. Neither Námo nor Vairë would come near him, even bound, blindfolded and gagged as he was.

"He can no longer hurt you," Manwë said sympathetically when Námo begged leave not to have to be one of Melkor’s guards.

"I know, or at least I think I know." He gave Manwë a troubled look and Manwë simply nodded.

"Why don’t you and Vairë go on ahead and check our route?" he suggested. "Since the war much of the topography in this area has changed. No sense going to all this trouble just to have the lot of us fall through a crack in the ice and drown."

Námo chuckled at the Eldest’s attempt at levity but accepted the offer being given with heartfelt gratitude. He glanced once at the chained figure standing between Tulkas and Oromë and could not suppress a shudder.

Tulkas gave him a grin. "Why don’t you spit on him?"

Námo gave him a startled look. "Wh-why would I want to do that?"

The other Ayanuz shrugged. "It might help."

Námo stared at Melkor for a long moment, then shook his head. "He’s not worth the effort," he muttered before moving away to find Vairë.

And all the while Melkor gnawed his consuming rage, having heard every word.

****

Eventually, they came to Amanaphelun and the Light of the Two Trees greeted them as a balm to their fëar. Manwë had decided earlier to hold the trial as soon as they reached their home, so they bypassed their city altogether and made their way directly to the Mahananashkad, placing Melkor in the center. "Remove his blindfold and gag," Manwë ordered as he took his throne; Tulkas complied with the order before taking his own throne, leaving Melkor alone, lying in such a way that he was facing Manwë. His lip was split and his face had a strange leer upon it from the last blow dealt him by Tulkas. For a long moment there was silence while the Ayanumuz gazed upon their brother, blinking rather stupidly at the light that was all around them. It was now the Second Mingling of the Lights and the Trees shone with all their glory. Melkor stared at them in shock, though a deep hunger began to gnaw at him and an inchoate desire rose within him, a desire that he kept carefully hidden as he lay before his brother’s feet.

Manwë finally looked up and addressed Námo. "Read the charges, my brother," he said and when Námo rose, Melkor attempted to twist his hröa so as to see him. The sneer of contempt mingled with fury and hatred that he directed at Námo nearly unnerved the Doomsman and he studiously refused to look at his nemesis, keeping his gaze resolutely on a spot just short of where Melkor lay.

"Melkor, thou standest accused of attempting to thwart the designs of thy Creator, to wit: in thine attempts at destroying Atháraphelun so that the Children would have no abode when the time of their Awakening arrived thou didst subject grievous harm upon the works of our hands, contending against us who are the lawful Guardians of Eä; and when that didst fail, thou didst attempt to overthrow our suzerainty over Atháraphelun itself, styling thyself Lord of Atháraphelun when thou didst not have the authority of lordship." He paused for a brief second and his amaranthine eyes went dark and cold as he at last shifted his gaze to look squarely at his former torturer. "And at the last thou didst foully and with malice of forethought waylay the Innocent and thou didst commit atrocities upon the Children so as to corrupt them from their original purpose of being and suborn them from their true fealty to their Creator, theirs... and thine. How dost thou plead?"

For a moment Melkor continued to sneer at Námo who was hard-pressed to maintain an impassive mien. He wanted nothing more than to kick that supercilious smile off his tormentor’s face but, clinging to the memory of Atar’s love for him, he remained unmoved. When he did not get the reaction he was looking for, Melkor frowned, then turned his attention to Manwë, replacing the sneer with a look of remorse, a look that Námo suspected was feigned. "We are brothers, thou and I," the Fallen One said, his voice seemingly contrite and humble. "Surely thou wouldst not condemn thine own brother, wouldst thou? I admit that in the past we have had our differences, but let us put such trivialities aside and be brothers once again. Release me, Manwë, and I promise thee that I shall work to heal the harm I have done to thee and to this world, yea, to all of Eä."

Manwë said nothing to this but turned to the others. "What say ye to this plea?"

"Would that he might be slain," Oromë said baldly, staring at Melkor with cold implacable fury.

"Yet that is outside our power and purview," Manwë answered, his tone mild.

"What oath could he give of his parole that we could in conscience accept or trust?" Aulë asked. "He hath not been content to accept his place in the greater scheme of things. Look how he seduced mine own Chief Máya."

"And mine," Vairë interjected.

Melkor’s expression of remorse was replaced with another sneer. "Ye may delude yourselves in believing that I seduced your precious Máyar, but in truth, they came to me, for they saw me as their true lord and master."

Vairë’s face went white and she might have risen in fury had Námo not reached out to stay her with a gentle touch. Melkor noticed and his eyes narrowed. Then his Tulkas-induced leer turned uglier. "Ah... I see my two favorite... playthings have finally become espoused. I must say, Little One, it took thee long enough, but I suppose being damaged goods...."

He got no further, for Námo was suddenly standing over him and his expression was beyond glacial as Melkor cringed before him. "Thou canst speak of me howsoever thou might wish," he said in a tone that was frightening for its very mildness, "but thou wilt never speak ill of my beloved again. She is beyond thee as the stars are beyond the reach of the Quendi and the only damaged goods I see cringeth before me."

"Enough," Manwë said. "Return to thy seat, Námo," and his tone brooked no argument. For a long moment, though, Námo continued to stand there, staring at Melkor before slowly resuming his throne.

Then Varda spoke. "I agree with Aulë that we cannot trust any oath our brother might give."

"Yet what should we do with him?" Vána asked. "To exile him to the Outer Dark I deem would be best."

"Thou meanest we should drop him off on some desolate world in another galaxy and leave him enchained for all the Ages of Eä?" Oromë enquired, looking intrigued by the idea.

"Yet to what purpose?" Manwë asked. "Should not whatever punishment we devise be for his correction and rehabilitation so that he might repent of his crimes against us and Atar?"

At this Tulkas stood, scowling. "I care not for this onslaught of words. Liefer would I have thee unchain him that I might fight him here and now. I would give him many a buffet in meed of his ill doings rather than making high debate of them."

"Peace, brother," Manwë said, hiding a smile at the impetuousness of the younger Ayanuz. "Stay thy going, for it behooves us all to be witnesses to this trial." Tulkas glowered at Melkor, who tried unsuccessfully to glower back, before resuming his throne.

"Let us forswear words for deeds then," Tulkas said and then he spoke no more during the rest of the trial, only glowering remorselessly at his enemy.

"Yet, words are all we have at this moment," Ulmo stated as he stood, "therefore I shall speak," and with that he began to catalogue all that Melkor had done against them from the moment they had entered Eä down to the present, his voice emotionless though his eyes flamed with deep ire, never removing his gaze from Melkor during his recital.

Yavanna then spoke, naming every plant that had been corrupted from its original beauty, and Oromë followed, speaking of the animals that had been twisted into unclean monsters.

"And then there is the matter of the Children," he said at the last. "They speak of the Hunter and Dark Rider and I deem that can only be Melkor or his minions, snatching unsuspecting Quendi and bearing them away to cruel torment and enslavement until they were no longer recognizable as Atar’s Children. For this deed alone, he deserves death, though I would accept eternal banishment in lieu of it."

"A pity we cannot simply throw him out of Eä itself, perhaps shove him into a pocket universe where he can do no more harm," Aulë muttered.

"Do not be too sure of that!" Melkor spat at them and as he continued to speak his voice rose in wrath. "I do not accept your authority to judge me who am the greatest of ye all. Ye fear my power, and rightly so. Do what ye will but I will find a way...."

At that point, even Manwë had had enough and with a gesture he forced the gag into Melkor’s mouth and his brother could only glare at them with futile rage.

"Only Atar hath the power to remove any of us from Eä, be they willing or unwilling," Manwë reminded them mildly as if their discussion had not been interrupted. "And so this is what I council: Whatever his deeds, Melkor is still our brother and an Ayanuz, powerful beyond measure for the future good or evil of this world. Should we not then seek his restoration rather than his destruction? We can neither kill him nor send him outside Eä, and to banish him utterly from Atháraphelun for all Time seems counterproductive."

"What then do you propose?" Varda asked.

Manwë did not answer her immediately but glanced sympathetically at Námo. "Thy Halls thou didst build believing they to were for the Second Children who will tarry but for a little while with us before Atar calleth them home. Yet, thou knowest now that that is only part of their purpose."

"Say rather, that their purpose has been altered to meet the exigencies of the moment," Námo intoned, his expression unreadable. "I still believe they were never meant for the Firstborn, save that Atar allowed him" — he pointed imperiously at Melkor — "to do what he did." He shook his head, and in spite of his resolve, tears streamed down his cheeks and his expression became one of mingled sorrow and pain. "Oh, Manwë, if only thou had been there when the first Fëa arrived. He was but a child in truth, calling for his emmë." At that, he rose, wishing only to be away from the sight of Melkor, but Irmo stood as well and stayed him, embracing him and gently rocking him, muttering softly soothing words of comfort until he was calm again and, uttering an apology to them all, he resumed his seat.

"There is no need to apologize, Námo," Manwë said with great gentleness. "Thou hast been the most wronged of all of us and so I deem it only fitting that thy Halls be put to another use as a prison."

Everyone stared at Manwë in disbelief. Námo narrowed his eyes in anger. "A prison? Thou wouldst I should turn my Halls which I created in beauty and for love of Atar and the Second Children into a place of torment such as we discovered when we did assail Melkor in his own fortress?"

"Nay," Manwë exclaimed. "But I think thy Halls are the only place where we can keep him in safety and give him time for reflection on his past deeds and future actions."

Námo’s eyes were still narrowed, but now with deep thought. Finally he nodded. "I can create a chamber from which none can escape, not even one of the Ayanumuz."

"Then are we all agreed?" Manwë asked. "We will remand our brother into Námo’s safekeeping."

"For how long?" Varda asked.

"Let us say for three ages," Manwë suggested, "at which time we will re-examine his case and he may once more sue for pardon, if he can prove to our satisfaction that he is willing to make amends for his misdeeds."

Yavanna shook her head and Tulkas continued to glower. "A perilous mercy," she said coldly. "I like it not, yet neither will I gainsay the judgment if others say yea to it."

"Then let each declare their verdict, either yea or nay, to this judgment," Manwë ordered and one by one, beginning with Varda, they stood and declared their acceptance of Manwë’s edict. Námo was the last to stand and for several seconds he did not speak, merely gazing dispassionately at the prisoner, who lay there with a sneer, though fear lurked behind it. Finally, he nodded. "Yea."

Manwë turned to Tulkas. "Let us have the prisoner on his feet to hear his doom."

Tulkas smiled as he rose and with a negligent gesture hauled Melkor to his feet, turning him to face, not Manwë, but Námo, who had remained standing. Then, Námo spoke and his tone was implacable and unforgiving.

"Melkor, thou dost stand accused of foul crimes against thy fellow Ayanumuz and against the Children and these deeds were unlawful, whether in Eä or not in Eä. Therefore this doom is now made: for three ages of the Trees thou shalt be consigned unto my Halls where thou mayest reflect upon thy deeds. In that time remember who and what thou art. But after that time this matter shall be set in peace and held redressed if thou comest unto repentance."

"As to that," Manwë said, "we will see." He gestured for Tulkas to turn Melkor to face him. "Pay heed, Brother, to the mercy of thy peers and to Atar’s mercy as well. Use the time wisely and to good purpose. Thou sayest that thou’rt the greatest of us all, and in that thou speakest true, yet thou hast squandered thy greatness in thy lust for domination. Wilt thou not turn away from thy folly and remember thy first Joy, which rests in Atar’s love for thee?"

Melkor only glared at his brother and after a moment Manwë sighed. "Take him away."

At that, Oromë stepped down from his throne and joined Tulkas with the intention of helping him escort Melkor. Námo gave Manwë a brief bow before turning his attention to Tulkas and Oromë holding a writhing Melkor between them. "Come," he said. "Our brother’s cell awaits him."

****

Liefer: Archaic English: Readily, willingly.

Meed: Archaic English: A fitting reward or recompense.

Note: Besides the Silmarillion, which at best gives only the barest description of Melkor’s defeat and trial, I drew upon the following from for inspiration: Book of Lost Tales 1, Chapter IV, ‘Of the Chaining of Melko’, HoME I, and Morgoth’s Ring, ‘The Annals of Aman, §§ 50-52’, HoME X.