Aftermath by Lyra

VIII.

Finally, some sort of closure, heralding I3 (acceptance and change). Which means - Bingo?

Fëanáro was dead.

Nerdanel did not know what the protocol was in such a case. She did not know whether any such protocol existed in the first place. She had already been wont to wear grey, the colour traditionally worn by workers of metal and stone as well as a symbol of mourning. She continued to wear her wedding band, on a slender chain around her neck as usual, since rings and tools had never gone well together. She had expected that there would be a messenger from Mandos, to make official what she had already felt.
But years passed before she received word from the Valar. In the event, it was Námo himself who stood by the gate (still broken; she had seen no need to repair it). Nerdanel washed her hands, muddied from her unsatisfying gardening efforts, and asked him inside. He did not immediately speak, only watching impassively as she prepared tea that he would not drink. His dark glance passed over the child, sitting by the fireplace with her back to him, stringing beads cut from semi-precious stones onto a silk cord, back to her.
Nerdanel sat down, silent, waiting.

„A great work is at hand,“ Námo finally announced, „to preserve the memory of the Trees and restore light to the earth.“
This was not what Nerdanel had expected, and she did not know how to react. „I am glad to hear it,“ she said neutrally.
Again, Námo studied her, only speaking on when the silence had become uncomfortable. „Aulë feels that your help would be of use. Will you give it?“
She felt her eyes widen. She was almost surprised how much pleasure the request gave her: the thought of bringing a memory of light into the world was exciting, the thought of being specifically sent for was gratifying. Her fingers flexed eagerly, anticipating the work they would be allowed to do. „Yes! Of course. I will help in any way that I can.“
Námo nodded gravely. „That is good.“ A long pause. „There is another matter.“
Nerdanel's elation was replaced by a dark sense of foreboding. She did not trust herself to speak, only tilting her head attentively.
„Your late husband is in my keeping,“ Námo said. „He will not be released.“
She let out a long breath. „No. I did not expect it.“
„I mean, ever – until the end of the world.“
Unsurprised, Nerdanel nodded. „I understand.“
Námo rose. „That means,“ he said, „that you are free to marry-“ there was no mistaking the strong disapproval in his voice- „the father of that child, and become a respectable woman again.“

In spite of herself, she had to laugh: a shocked, mirthless sound. „I will do no such thing.“
His face showed no emotion, but she could physically feel his alienation. „You must be aware that your reputation has suffered from your... lapse. You would gain much if you re-entered into lawful marriage.“
She could not stop laughing, but at the same time, her eyes welled over, and she half-chuckled and half-sobbed, „But my lord, you have just told me that it will be impossible.“
Alarmed by her mother's strange mode of speaking, the child had jumped up and run over to her. In a flash of almost delightful spite, Nerdanel saw the Lord of Mandos visibly startled. But her amusement was gone as swiftly as it had come, replaced by the bitter sting of grief. The girl embraced her, and Nerdanel pulled her into her lap, trying to fight back the sobs that punctuated her speech. „Her father, Lord Námo, is not a respectable person; moreover, he is in your keeping, and as I have been told, he will not return. I really cannot ask him to make me, as you say, respectable.“
Námo did not reply, only watching her and her daughter with his dark, probing eyes. Nerdanel tried to pull herself together – for the sake of her daughter, if not for her own dignity – but now that her emotions had begun to well over, she could not contain them anymore. The tears continued to fall.

„I saw him after the Oath, for one last time,“ she cried, „I begged him to leave me at least one of my children.“ She clutched the girl close, burying her face in the silky black hair. „He did. Oh, he did, just not in the way I had thought. So you see, Lord Námo, my lapse is other than you thought. I saw him, but I could not stop him. I had his ear, and all I thought about was...“ She interrupted herself, wiping her eyes. No less upset, she continued, „There has been no other man. I never stopped loving my husband. Even when I could see what he had become, I could not stop loving him.“ She raised her head and met the Vala's inscrutable eyes, admitting what she had not, so far, admitted to herself. „Even now, I love him. That is my crime.“
Námo looked down at her, his shoulders slumped as if tired, and she thought that she could sense some pity radiating off him, although it might just as well have been a reflection of her self-pity.
„Oh, child,“ Námo said quietly. „That is not a crime. You did what you could.“ He looked as if he wanted to say more, but then he shook his head. He closed his eyes, as if deep in thought. When he opened them again, he announced, impassive once more, „Aulë will be glad to welcome you. He will explain your task to you. I trust it will give you some sense of redemption.“ He half-bowed, ready to see himself out. „Yavanna is offering to look after the child.“
„Her name,“ Nerdanel said, „is Náriel.“

Náriel was with the royal family when the Moon first rose, watching the spectacle from a balcony high on the Mindon. Nerdanel, too, had joined them for the joyous occasion. She would return to Aulë's halls the next day to continue working on the second lamp, but today had been declared a holiday so that everybody could observe and celebrate the return of light unto the world. Slowly, Tilion's vessel rose on the horizon. From this distance, only the brilliant orb of the lamp was visible, outshining the crystal and metal structure that surrounded it. As the silvery sheen flooded across the land, Nerdanel couldn't help feeling a warm glow of pride. Isil might not have the dazzling splendour of a Silmaril, but on the whole, it was rather more useful, and not likely to be claimed as anyone's private property.
There were admiring sounds and cheers from all around, and Nerdanel turned just in time to see Arafinwë let Náriel have a sip of his sparkling wine. Although the little girl grimaced, clearly not going to ask for more, Nerdanel gave her brother-in-law a reproachful stare. He unsuccesfully tried to hide his glass behind his back. „On a day like this, surely a little treat is in order,“ he mumbled in self-defense. „You're always so strict.“

Nerdanel sighed, the weariness of months of back-breaking work washing over her now that she had a moment to pause. „I would tell you that I know how to properly raise children,“ she said, „but I suppose I have not done all that well with the others.“
Arafinwë's eyes widened in alarm. „It's not your fault,“ he said in his soft voice, and even more softly, he added, „but it isn't hers, either.“
„I know,“ Nerdanel said. She turned back to the soothing sight of Tirion and the surrounding plains painted in silver, hoping that the light would at last bring healing.
Náriel ran towards her mother, putting a sticky little paw into a broad, forge-worn hand. With her other hand, she shielded her eyes against the brilliant gleam in the sky. She had never seen so bright a light, Nerdanel belatedly realised; it must be as strange and marvellous to her as the first sight of the Trees had been to the leaders of the Eldar. Now, the remainder of that light would finally shine upon Middle-earth. Even upon her lost sons.

Nerdanel squatted down next to her daughter.
„Is it true that you made the big lamp, Amil?“ Náriel asked, squeezing her hand in excitement. „It is wonderful.“
„I made,“ Nerdanel answered carefully, „some minuscule part of the vessel. The lamp is the work of many hands, and could only be achieved because we all worked together as Lord Aulë instructed us.“
She was not certain whether Náriel grasped the full meaning behind her words, but she could hope that her daughter would remember them later.
„We are making a second lamp, too,“ she went on. „But that will take a little while yet.“
„Will it be just as beautiful?“ Náriel asked, her bright grey eyes intent on her mother's face.
Nerdanel smiled and winked. „It's going to be a surprise,“ she said.
„When I am older,“ Náriel pondered, „will I be able to make such things?“
Nerdanel's heart constricted painfully for a moment, but she continued to smile. „We will see. Perhaps you will. I am looking forward to teaching you, at any rate.“
And she was. She had always liked to share her knowledge, and to see her children grow in their abilities. No matter whether Náriel's talents lay in the forge or elsewhere, discovering them would be an adventure for both of them.

No doubt it would be as rewarding as ever.

Chapter End Notes

Yeah, Námo isn't mentioning the fate of Maedhros. I would assume that he knows, but he either feels that nobody else should, or actively wants to protect Nerdanel from further bad news. Your choice, I guess.