Strangers in a Strange Land by My blue rose

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Chapter Seven: Doom

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Chapter Seven: Doom

 “And were you so to voyage that escaping all deceits and snares you came indeed to Aman, the Blessed Realm, little would it profit you. For it is not the land of Manwë that makes its people deathless, but the Deathless that dwell therein have hallowed the land; and there you would but wither and grow weary the sooner, as moths in a light too strong and steadfast.’” ~ The Silmarillion, Akallabêth

6th of Víresse in the Year 3316 of the Second Age, King’s Reckoning:

“We must also decide what we are to do with Salmar,” Varda broke the silence. “His role in bringing Men here cannot be overlooked.”

“I am more used to this sort of behavior from Ossë,” Ulmo sighed. “Yet he did not truly disobey me for I never thought to forbid him from assisting Men in coming here.”

“Salmar knows you would not have allowed him to aid the Men which is why he did not seek your permission before doing so,” Aulë objected. “I have had experience with my own Maiar attempting similar things. It is a subtle way of undermining your authority.”

“I do not believe that was his intent,” the Lord of Waters replied. “Salmar has much love for the Men of Andorë and I know it grieves him to see how far they have fallen.”

“It grieves us all,” Aulë retorted. “But that does not excuse his participating in something he knows you would not approve.”

“I do not believe his rebellion willful,” Ulmo said. “Salmar has always been impulsive and it is unlikely he thought through the ramifications of his actions when he helped the Men.”

“Perhaps we ought to ask him. Or shall we continue to guess at his motives?” Nienna said with some asperity.

“I cannot be the one to question him for I have always been fond of Salmar. I fear I cannot be impartial in such an inquiry,” Ulmo admitted.

“Námo ought to do the examination, ”Aulë said resolutely.

“You wish to place him on trial, beloved?” Yavanna asked, surprised.

“What crime has he committed? Ulmo himself said that Salmar did not disobey him directly,” Nienna objected. “Why are you so quick to condemn him?”

“How many deaths among the Eruhíni might have been prevented had we more swiftly judged those Maiar who did not defy us outright but nevertheless flouted our authority?” Aulë replied bitterly.

Silence reigned once more as they contemplated the Smith’s words.

“Do you think we ought to place Salmar on trial, Brother?” Irmo asked.

“It is not my place to mandate a trial,” The Lord of Mandos said formally.

“No, it is not,” The Elder King sighed. “Yet we must needs resolve this. You will act as Judge once more?”

Námo nodded and with a thought commanded Salmar to stand in the Máhanaxar. The Maia walked into the Ring confidently, yet the Valar could sense his trepidation. The Men watched from where they stood close together in the center of the circle, silently observing the Powers. When Salmar reached them, he bowed, first to Manwë and then to Ulmo. When he straightened he held his head high and clasped his hands behind his back. When the Doomsman addressed him not in ósanwe, but in Quenya, his face went white.

“Salmar, servant of Ulmo, you are charged with rebelling against your lord by bringing Men of Andorë here despite our Ban. What have you to say in your defense?”

“Herunya, I deny the charges for never have I thought to rebel against the Valar. I have always been loyal to my Lord Ulmo since he accepted me into his service,” Salmar said earnestly.

“Then why did you assist Men in their breaking of the Ban?”

“I have observed Lord Amânzîr’s family for several generations and know that they are noble Men. I knew that they came here seeking your aid and not out of a desire to attain immortality. I hoped that you would indeed hear their plead for the Elendili have suffered greatly this past yén,” Salmar replied.

“Did you know your lord would not have approved of you aiding Men in coming here?” Námo inquired.

“I did not think about what Lord Ulmo would approve of, Herunya,” the Maia admitted. “I did not even intend to aid them until they entered the Sindanórie and I realized they would either perish or fall into an enchanted sleep if I did not guide their ship clear of the islands.”

“Then your defiance was unintentional,” the Lord of Mandos observed.

“Yes, Herunya.” Salmar hesitated before continuing. “Yet perhaps I am guilty of rebellion for I believe I would have done the same, even if my lord had clearly forbade me.”

“No one is held accountable for what they might have done,” Námo replied. “You are only responsible for the deeds you have truly committed. Yet do you regret your actions, now that you know your lord would have forbidden you from guiding their ship here?”

“No, Herunya,” Salmar bowed his head. “I am pleased that you have decided to warn the Men of Númenórë.”

“Be at peace, Ulmondur,” the Vala commanded, for all could sense the distress the Maia was emanating. “We do not require your repentance in this matter. Yet what do you think your punishment ought to be for your actions?”

“I…I do not know, Herunya,” Salmar replied, looking up in confusion. “I will accept whatever you believe I deserve. Yet I ask that you do not dismiss me from my lord’s service.” He sent a pleading glance at Ulmo.

“Fear not,” Námo said. “Your disobedience was not so severe as to merit such a consequence.”

Salmar bowed low to the Lord of Mandos and then retreated to stand next to Abârôn.

“Clearly he is not guilty of rebellion,” Ulmo bespoke the Valar.

“You are satisfied?” Aulë asked Námo.

“Indeed. He is guilty, not of rebellion against his lord, but of impetuosity,” the Lord of Mandos answered.

“As your discernment has always been better than mine, I will trust your judgment,” Aulë replied ruefully.

“Yet perhaps his rashness might be curbed,” Ulmo said. “If we could devise a suitable punishment?”

“We could have him be responsible for the Men who are to remain here,” Námo suggested. “It would be a suitable lessoning, considering the nature of his actions and his love of Mortals.”

“I agree,” Manwë said.

Yet what of the other Men? What shall we do with them?” Nienna asked.

“I do not believe they deserve death…” Námo began, then stopped suddenly, his eyes unfocused.

“What have you foreseen?” Manwë asked softly.

“They shall dwell in Aman,” the Lord of Mandos said, frowning. “Yet only for a season. Here they will fade and their fëar shall flee to my Halls ere long.”

“That seems punishment enough,” Manwë said heavily.

“Indeed,” Námo replied sadly.

“You will speak their doom?” the Elder King asked.

“If I must.” the Doomsman said grimly.

Then Manwë addressed Amânzîr in Quenya. “Amandil Númendilion, Lord of Andûnië. You have been found guilty of breaking the Ban we have placed upon the Men of Númenórë. For this we sentence you to death.”

Amânzîr closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Valar valuvar,” he said softy. “Yet what of my companions?

“We do not believe their breaking of the Ban merits their deaths, Child,” Manwë replied.

“Thank you, Herunya,” Amânzîr replied gratefully.

Then Námo stood and spoke in Adûnaic so all might understand him.

“You are condemned to spend the rest of your days in Aman. Here you shall wither and grow weary both in spirit and in body. You shall not long endure in the Blessed Realm. Even so, you shall be grateful when death comes and relieves you of the burden your life will have become.” the Doomsman’s voice was as forbidding as his mien.

“Salmar,” he continued. “You are condemned to look after these Men and see to their needs while they dwell in Valinor. You shall be forced to watch them as they suffer the consequences of living in a land never intended for Mortals. This punishment is to remind you to think of the ramifications of your actions, for seldom do those responsible for misdeeds see their effect upon those beneath them.”

The Lord of Mandos sat back down and the Elder King now stood, his face solemn. “Amandil Númendilion, come here Child.”

Amânzîr obeyed and knelt before Manwë’s feet, his head bowed. The Vala stooped down, reaching out a hand to cup Amânzîr’s face. The Man flinched slightly but did not draw away, clenching his teeth and fisting his hands in the fabric at the hem of his tunic. Manwë gently lifted the Man’s head until their eyes met and the Elder King could see the fear and determination in them. Manwë removed his hand, glancing behind Amânzîr to see the three Men gazing at them with anguished expressions.

“Forgive me, Child.” the Vala whispered to Amânzîr’s mind.

“There is nothing to forgive, Herunya,” the Lord of Andûnië replied softly. “I am an old man, prepared to receive the Gift of Men.”

“Even so, be at peace,” Manwë commanded, preventing the Man from feeling frightened. Amânzîr blinked in surprised as his fear left him.

“Márienna, Eruhin. Á lelya ayanen,” the Elder King said solemnly.

Manwë once more placed his hand on Amânzîr’s head, pausing to ensure the Man felt no distress. Then, with a single thought, the Vala severed the Man’s soul from his body so swiftly he experienced no pain. Abârôn gave a cry as Amânzîr’s lifeless body slumped forward. Yet, before it fell to the ground, Manwë scooped it up into his arms. The Elder King turned and walked out of the Ring, where there suddenly appeared a bier of white marble. On it he carefully laid the body, straightening the limbs and smoothing the indigo tunic and black breeches.

Finally, Manwë passed his hand over Amânzîr’s eyes so that they closed. He bowed his head, offering a brief prayer, then returned to the Máhanaxar. The Elder King sat heavily on his throne and Varda grasped her husband’s hand, squeezing it tightly. The grief the remaining Men were unintentionally broadcasting was palpable as they wept silently, gazing at the bier. Avalôbêl had fallen to his knees; Azruzôr had a hand on his shoulder with his other arm embracing Abârôn. The Valar watched them with expressions ranging from grim to pitying.

“What are we to do with Amânzîr’s hröa?” Nienna inquired, tears falling down her own cheeks.

“Why do we not place it in the garden that once held Míriel Serindë’s hröa?” Estë proposed. “My servants may tend to it as they have before.”

“That is well,” Manwë said. “It can always be moved later, if necessary.”

“Salmar,” Ulmo said firmly, for the Maia appeared nearly as distraught as the Men standing beside him. “Take your charges to a guest room in my mansion where they might spend the night and ensure they have something to eat in the morning.”

Salmar bowed to his lord and gently led the Men out of the Máhanaxar and toward the western gates of Valmar.

“We ought to have Salmar take the Men to Lórien,” Irmo suggested. “They may dwell there until they must depart from the circles of this World. Mayhap Estë and I can delay the consequences they will incur by living here. At the very least we might ease their passing.”

“Does anyone object to this?” Manwë asked. When no one replied, he nodded. “Then the Men shall dwell in Lórien. Eönwë?”

The Maia stepped into the Ring. “Yes, my Lord?”

“Would you mind bearing Amânzîr’s hröa to the garden where Míriel Serindë’s hröa once laid?”

“It would be an honor,” Eönwë replied, bowing. The Herald approached the bier and reverently lifted the body into his arms, then vanished.

“This council is at an end,” the Elder King announced wearily. “You may leave.”

At his words, eleven of the Valar disappeared, save for Varda and Námo.

“Yes?” Manwë asked aloud.

“You did the right thing,” the Lord of Mandos said softly.

“I know,” the Elder King sighed. “Yet I feel otherwise.”

“That is the reality of living in Arda Marred. For we cannot destroy all the evil Moringotto has sown and sometimes even Justice feels ill.” With those words the Doomsman bowed and departed.

“He is right, Beloved,” Varda said. “Come, let us return to Ilmarin. I had Ilmarë serve Ingwë without us but he is no doubt wondering what is so important that we must desert him on Valanya.”

Then the Ring of Doom was empty, save for the light of the stars and the rustling of the wind.

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Chapter End Notes

Glossary

Vicegerent (English): a person exercising delegated power on behalf of a sovereign or a person regarded as an earthly representative of God, both definitions being true in the case of the Elder King

Eä (Quenya): ‘The Created World’. Also ‘universe’.

Eruhíni (Quenya): ‘Children of Eru’. Basically Men and Elves.

Elendili (Quenya) ‘Elf Friends’. Those Númenórëans who remained faithful to the Valar and maintained their friendship with the Elves.

Yén (Quenya): a unit of time used by the Elves equivalent to 144 solar years. Plural is ‘Yéni’.

Sindanórie (Quenya): name of the region on the outer feet of the Pelóri Mountains in Valinor encompassing the Enchanted Isles. Literally means ‘Grey Land’.

Ulmondur (Quenya): ‘Servant of Ulmo’.

Valar valuvar (Quenya): ‘The will of the Valar will be done.’

“…I am an old man, prepared to receive the Gift of Men”: We can’t know for certain how old Amandil is but there are some inferences that can be made. We know that Amandil is in the same generation as Ar-Pharazon because their father’s (Numendil and Tar-Palantir) grandparents were siblings. However, Ar-Pharazon was born in S.A. 3118 which makes him a year older than Amandil’s son Elendil, so Amandil must be significantly older than Ar-Pharazon. We know when Ar-Gimilzôr became king in S.A. 3102 he forced the Faithfull to relocate to the east of Númenor. We also know that prior to this the Elves gave the Palantîri to Amandil, meaning he was probably Lord of Andûnië by this time. Given how long the Lords of Andûnië lived, it is reasonable to assume that Amandil was at least a hundred years old prior S.A. 3102. This means that, by the time Amandil sets sail for Valinor in S.A. 3316, he is probably at least three hundred years old and is perhaps much older. It is not unreasonable to conclude that Amandil was over four hundred years old when he sailed.

Márienna, Eruhin.  Á lelya ayanen. (Quenya): ‘Farewell, Child of Eru. Go with reverence’. ‘Márienna’ is an archaic form of ‘namárië’ used only as an expression of farewell. Literally means, ‘to goodness’.

Hröa (Quenya): ‘body’.

Arda Marred (English): A term Tolkien used for the world (Arda) as it is tainted by the evil of Morgoth. The idea is that the world was once good but corrupted by Morgoth's rebellion. This concept is analogous to the Judeo-Christian notions of the Fall.