As Time Unrolls by Lyra

Epilogue

Epilogue.
Revolutions

I wonder why you are still working, says the Voice in Vairë's head.

She knows that she will see no-one when turning around, yet she turns: She has been embodied for so long that it has become instinctive.
The question is justified. There is no more history to weave now, of course, so Vairë has ceased weaving. But ever since, she has been spinning, producing yarn enough for centuries of tapestry. One may well wonder why. Still...
"You wonder?" she says out loud. "Do you need to wonder, Father?"

I do not like to pry into the secret minds of my Children, the Voice of Ilúvatar says, feeling reproachful, neither those of thought nor those of flesh. So yes: I wonder.

Vairë shrugs, distracted for a moment. "You learn a thing or two from history," she says, "and one of them is that the good times never last," she says.

Nor the bad times.

"Indeed," says Vairë, "they only feel endless. What I mean is, things always come around and around again." With that, she returns her focus to her steadily revolving spindle: Turning and turning and turning as if to illustrate her point.
Why should Arda Unmarred not last? asks the voice in her head. Do you think I cannot support it forever?

"I do not doubt that you could make it last forever, Father," Vairë replies, and pointedly adds, "if you wanted."

Ah, says the Voice of Ilúvatar, and falls silent, although the Presence still remains. Vairë's hands do not visibly tremble, but her spindle is no longer running quite smoothly.

You know me well, it seems, the Voice finally says – a little grudgingly, Vairë suspects.
"As I said," she says, bowing her head, "I learned a thing or two from history."

She is relieved to find that the Voice feels amused rather than angry. That does not mean that you cannot rest while there is time, it says, and Vairë imagines a wry smile. Nor do you have to go into any new Marred World - should there be such a thing.

"I know what the job is like," Vairë retorts. "I can hardly leave it to some other poor spirit."

I could nonetheless appoint someone else.
"Yes, of course."
But you do not want me to?

A shrug from the Weaver. "I'm not sure. Just now, I don't think so. I've grown too used to it, though maybe I will grow out of it again. We'll see. How long do you think this Second Music will last – if you want to tell me?"
The Voice replies willingly. I am not certain. I have not yet figured out a good way to begin something new, you see. Middles take care of themselves, but beginnings and ends are fickle things.

Vairë suppresses a snort. "Someone will provide an opportunity sooner or later – like Melkor did."

No doubt.

Vairë stops her spindle and smiles. "When that happens," she says, "you can ask me again."

Chapter End Notes

Yeah, I suppose I don't really believe in "Happily Ever After"s forever...