Dark Judgement 21

Dark Judgement

Part 21 - Celebrìan

Posted: September 26, 2008

*****

Maglor and I enjoy a spectacular view from the balcony of our rooms. As far as the eye can see there is the vast expanse of ocean, fringed by a wide curving beach of the purest cream coloured sand. The pink sandstone walls of the house are flecked by the shadows of the tall trees swaying gently in the seaweed and pine fragrant breeze near the edge of the balcony. Our floor, which is off limits to all but staff, is three floors above the ground at the very top of the building. The double doors lead out to a wrought iron platform adorned with rails of scroll and latticework with various leaves and fruit decoratively intertwined in the black woven metal. Inside the apartment there is a door which leads to a private garden on the roof, which is where Maglor grows hanging plants over the metal railings because it amuses him to do so.

Behind the house are formal gardens and grassy areas shaded by wide branched trees. Beyond that is a sheer wall of mountainous rock extending down to the sea like two arms embracing the ocean. This keeps the beach totally private and enclosed. No visitors from outside can accidently wander into our domain, just as no elf can escape before they are cured.

The new arrivals are brought in a covered carriage drawn by horses, through a hidden tunnel carved out of the mountain. The tunnel exists only when Manwë wishes it to, and I realised very early on that as much as the patients were captive, we were also unable to escape.

It matters not. Maglor and I think of our apartment in the pink house as our haven. He feels safe there, and I value the fact that I can be unguarded in my expression. My new master is not interested in spying on us and using whatever he gleans to score cheap, piecemeal victories; he is interested in the bigger picture. Manwë is genuinely concerned about the plight of the elves in Valinor and sympathises with their problems so that they love him. I will never understand how he is so easily able to win their hearts; he did precious little to protect them when they lived on Middle-earth. I consider that the neglect of the elves by the Valar when they lived there had a direct contributory effect on my ability to take power, and yet this one significant fact is never realised or remembered. Manwë could have crushed me in an instant and yet he chose not to. It is a sobering thought that I might have been working for him or fulfilling his plans even then, without realising it.

Maglor has changed. He is no longer the nervous elf who lived with me in those awful rooms that Nienna assigned to us. He smiles and delights in our new captivity. It is better than anything he ever expected or thought he deserved. As for myself, I know that I could never have expected such a location. I will not say that I do not deserve it because everything is relative in the end, isn’t it? If I have unwittingly done Manwe’s work on Middle-earth then I am getting no less than my due.

The breeze plays softly across my face as I stand on the balcony watching the vast expanse of water with little ships bobbing on the waves in the far distance. In reality they are huge trading galleons and cruising pleasure craft. None ever approach here and I suspect that to the ordinary eye we are not visible. My eyes shift to the tops of the trees, leaves gently rustling and swishing against the metal balcony rails. Maglor is down on the beach, wearing only a leather loin-cloth. He has his spear and is practising his aim by throwing it at a sea sponge he has positioned in the distance. According to him, he is practising so that he can go out to sea this afternoon and kill a big fish that we can barbecue in the evening.

In the meantime I put one of my famous black robes on and make my way downstairs. Manwë has called me and told me to be ready.

I knew it would happen one day but it was still a shock when it did. Manwë is standing in my office with the Lady Celebrìan. How brave she must feel standing next to my master as she spits in my face and slaps my cheek. “I hate you,” she screams at me, and then turns to Manwë. “Why have you brought me here?”

“Sauron is the cause of your problems and now he will fix it,” Manwë explains. “He is much changed and can help you manage your emotions and memories.”

“They do not need managing and I will never accept help off the one whose orcs raped and tortured me, whilst he sat watching and laughing. You ask too much,” she yells in her extreme anger.

Actually I do remember watching and laughing. I still do not feel guilt at it and think of it only as a pleasant memory. However, I have to help her because to do so will make life easier for all concerned. I feel like backhanding her face and smashing every bone. However, I am not the Lord of all evil on Middle-earth anymore and so I must play by the rules that Manwë has set out for me. I fear his punishment more than anything, as it is many times more subtle and terrible than anything Melkor could have dreamt up for me in his crude and clumsy attempts at retribution, even though they were just as effective. It still amazes me that the bitch Nienna is his wife and that none of the Valar realised the fact. They are not that clever, it seems, because even Maglor once remarked that she could well be his wife after one of her more irrational punishments of me. If he could unwittingly see this, how could they not?

Celebrìan slaps me again and kicks my shin. I do not move. She will wear herself out; her feeble attempts are an annoyance but cannot hurt me. In the end Manwë tires of her behaviour and orders her to stop. “Surely you cannot be on his side?” She is aghast at the realisation.

“I have told you before that Sauron is changed.” Manwë holds her arms down and snarls in her ear that she had better stop her behaviour before he loses his temper. “You will submit,” he says loudly in her ear as she struggles.

I touch her forehead and she howls a scream of angry animal terror before slumping forward. Manwë picks her up as if she weighs nothing and places her on the bed. “You have a way with the ladies,” he jokes and I smile.

We both draw a chair up to the head end of the bed. Manwë likes me to talk about what I am doing and seems endlessly fascinated by the process. “I have found the event where she was attacked by orcs. I think that I should lessen the memory and make her wonder if it was a dream.”

“Good idea,” Manwë agrees.

I go into Celebrian's mind and find all her secrets. How interesting. She spent much time in Lothlorien because that is where her lover was. According to her memories, she tolerated Elrond but felt nothing for him. I tell this to Manwe who says that he already knew.

“The tragedy is that Elrond adored her,” Manwë says softly.

“I do not see that changing when he comes to Valinor,” I say to him, as I probe around in her mind for more useful information.

“He has had casual flings but he desperately hopes that Celebrìan has missed him and can find it in her heart to perhaps love him just a little?” Manwë smiles and I know exactly what he means.

I adore Maglor but if he did not love me equally then I would be crushed and resume my evil ways not caring about the consequences. I would delight in making him pay for not loving me, until he drew his last breath and then I would torture his fëa until I became so tired of my own existence that I sought release from it. My love would swiftly turn into hate. Perhaps that is the danger of loving too much. Elrond must have spent hundreds of years hoping and finding his hopes constantly dashed, therefore I will give him what he most desires.

“I am lessening the memories of the orcs so that it seems like a dream that she cannot quite remember,” I say to Manwë. “I have removed her lover completely from her mind and filled it with a deep desire for her husband.” My fingers move slightly as I catch another thought travelling through her brain and turn it around.

“Master?” I ask, even though the word is a bitter taste on my tongue. “Does the lady have a soul mate before I go any further?”

“She has Elrond, but that was decided and assigned after her rape because we thought that she might stay with him,” Manwë answers.

“So be it,” I reply. “The Lady Celebrìan now has a yearning surpassing all others for the safe arrival of her husband into these lands.”

“Remove your face from her memory,” Manwë orders. “I do not want her spreading the word to other elves that you will be treating them.” He has a point. Most elves have never seen my face, not even the ones who were captive in my strongholds. However, Celebrìan has seen my face and so it makes sense to do as my master tells me.

I wake Celebrìan and she asks me who I am.

“He is my servant, dear Lady,” Manwë says taking her by the arm. “It is most strange but you and I were having a cup of tea on the terrace and you felt faint in the heat. Are you all right now?”

“I feel so embarrassed,” Celebrìan says, rolling her frog spawn eyes in a vain attempt to humour the Vala talking to her by seeming to be helpless. “It is most unlike me to react adversely to Anor’s rays.”

“It matters not,” Manwë says most agreeably. “Happily my servant knew what to do.”

Celebrìan thanks me and accepts Manwe’s offer of a carriage ride back to her home in the next village. “It was lucky that he was here,” I heard her say happily to Manwë, who chuckles because he knows the full story.

Yes indeed and you are the lucky one dear Lady. My smile is false as she waves goodbye and I wonder what it would be like, to have been the orc raping her. I am glad they hurt her. I only wish they could have killed the stupid heifer.

Maglor walks up to the terrace, excitedly shouting my name. Slung over his back is a dead swordfish. “Sauron, come and see this fish,” he calls to me. “It’s huge. It took two goes with the spear.”

The elf whom I adore is standing in the doorway with a huge grin on his face. “Look,” he says, his mouth set with a wide smile. “Isn’t it a beauty?”

“It is massive,” I tell him and walk out onto the terrace. The sun feels warm against my skin and I know that I am over dressed.

“Let us swim together,” Maglor says as he pulls me down to the beach. “We can leave the fish until afterwards.”

I run down to the sea with the one I love and wade into the water. We dive underneath and meet in the middle. It is moments like this that are precious to me. Maglor loves with the sureness and trust of an elfling. He is the one who saves me from my self, from my darker side; I have the freedom to be happy because he gives me a reason to. He makes everything all right.

He pulls me closer as the waves lap around our hips. “Having one of those introspective moments?” he asks.

I smile as he kisses me. He knows me so well.

*****

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