Dark Judgement 22

Dark Judgement

Part 22 - Fëanor and His Son

Posted: September 26, 2008

*****

Over many years, I treated just about every elf who was plagued by their memories of my intervention in their otherwise happy lives. I did my best to cure them of the memories that plagued them, even though they were safe in Valinor and seemingly well beyond my influence. I am not altruistic at all and if I were the one deciding their fate they would be left to their own devices and suffer forever more. However, it is not my decision and I remain in bondage to my Lord Manwë, who likes me to call him Master at least once a day. It is a gilded kind of slavery, where I am treated very well; however, I doubt that Manwë will ever trust me enough to completely grant me my freedom. I refuse to rehabilitate. I see his point of view that it would be better for me to eschew all evil but I still find the darkness attractive. My base desires still scream for fulfilment, and there is nothing more that I would enjoy than subjugating the hearts and minds of all who live on this island with a regime of absolute and complete terror. I am also a pragmatist. I know that those days are gone forever and that to survive, I must adapt. Maglor is the carrot that keeps me sweet. If he were taken away from me the whole island would feel my wrath, regardless of the consequences. Who would have thought that the Lord of all Evil would be willingly subdued because of his love for an elf?

Most elves were easy to cure, but there were those who were a challenge. Some were so bad that I was tempted to pronounce them as incurable and let them continue in their wickedness. Take Fëanor as an example: he was filled with intense rage and anger, and was unwilling to let go of these emotions as they had shaped his whole life. He would have made a good accomplice and in many ways he was nearly as great as I was; although, he did not gratuitously torture elves for fun, which in my opinion was somewhat of a character flaw. The devastation his stupid oath caused was on a grand scale and he really should be proud of himself. However, that is beside the point. My dilemma was that if I took away his rage and anger, then essentially I would be taking away the essence of what made him who he was. In the end, I spent much time talking to him about the various battles and his quest to regain the silmarils. Fëanor also felt much guilt when discussing his son Amras, who burnt to death because he forgot he was on board, when he set alight the ship he was on.

Manwë arranged for Amras to visit, and then he thought that it would be a good idea of all his sons to stay in the house so that all could be cured at the same time. I insisted that Maglor be exempt from seeing his family or being treated, as he had been through enough. Manwë agreed and Maglor only saw his family on social occasions. He conveniently forgot to tell them that he was married to me, and when I challenged him about it he told me that no one would believe that he had willingly married Melkor’s trusted lieutenant, plus it would cause a lot of arguments. I wonder if he is ashamed of being married to me or merely looking for a peaceful life. I am not sure but I know that I must put these thoughts into the back of my mind before they are able to grow and possibly harm our relationship.

The house was filled with elves arguing, blaming one another, yelling and fighting. In the end, I put them in shackles and chained them to the walls. Fëanor and his sons were unable to come to any agreement and so, one by one, I took them into the mind room and altered their memories. On the instruction of the despairing Manwë, I removed all memories of swearing the oath and of what the Silmarils were. There was much marrying up of fine details and the reasons for their actions, and sometimes I did not get it completely right. During this period I kept them separate so that they could not remind each other of events that others had ‘forgot’.

Fëanor was treated last and he was my biggest challenge. After much hard work, in which his mind did its best to resist my influence, his memories were altered. I refocused his anger, because Manwë and I both agreed that his anger could never be changed as it was so much a part of him.

I made him angry about unchangeable things. It irritated him to distraction that Anor’s glow was yellow and that the sky was blue. He vowed to change the colours if he could and asked his sons, in all seriousness if they would swear an oath to join him on his quest to change their colour. Manwë and I, who were spying on him through a secret porthole, nearly wet ourselves with laughter as Fëanor’s sons asked him if he was mad.

Manwë and I achieved a good working relationship. Whilst still wishing all the elves to suffer unimaginable agony and harm, I knew that to survive I had to adapt. I love evil for its own sake still, and yet I also know how to love, which I could never do before. My adoration of Melkor was a hollow exercise and I still feel betrayed by him. But, because of his betrayal, I now have Maglor and I get to look upon the day, as well as the night. There is so much more for me now. Most prized of all in my existence, is the love of my soul mate; that is a gift that so many do not enjoy. In spite of his unwillingness to tell his family of his connection to me, I know that he adores me, and he has reassured me that telling them would do no good until all memory of my evil and connection to Melkor is erased from their minds, and the minds of those whom the family associate with.

I find that I actually like Manwë. He has never treated me with the harshness a slave could expect but it is quite clear that for my own protection that I will remain one. The other Valar will not have anything to do with me, except issue the occasional death threat for when my bondage finishes. I have never told Manwë, as I can deal with any threats upon my life on my own, but if they ever threaten Maglor then it will be different. Manwë has told me that he sees everything and he has dealt with those who wish me harm; maybe he has, I see no reason to disbelieve him.

*o*o*o*o*

In the end, I had treated every elf who needed it. Manwë allowed me to go into town to treat elves there and the general population had little recollection of who I was. My skin began to glow as it had before I was seduced by Melkor, and Manwë expressed his happiness that it did so. It was not that the elves did not know who I was, but that my role in their sufferings when on Middle-earth was not seen as important anymore.

My life was spent mostly in happy seclusion with Maglor. There were no elves left to cure and so our days were spent in happy enjoyment. I asked Manwë if I would always be allowed to have the existence I now cherished or whether it would end one day.

“I do not see it ending, so long as you do not regress back into evil,” Manwë told me. “I know that you still love evil and that your mind is never free of it but you resist it with all your strength and that is good enough.”

“How did you know?” I asked softly, mentally kicking myself as soon as I said the words for my stupidity. Of course Manwë would know; he knew everything.

“Because I fight evil too,” he replied. “I do not give in as my brother did and every day is a temptation.”

“I would never have guessed,” I said and knew that he had revealed a part of himself that he normally kept hidden.

“I am The High King of everywhere. It is always easier for a ruler to court evil than to do what is right,” he said. “It is better to be loved than hated.”

“I quite liked being hated,” I said lightly.

“Would you enjoy it if Maglor hated you again?” he asked.

I shook my head. Maglor’s love is worth more than the conquest of Middle-earth ever was and I did not see that at the time.

“You sought to control the minds of all living things on Middle-earth,” Manwë said. “Perhaps you really were looking for love?”

Who knows? I do not like to think that I was so basic and I know that I truly did not care if I was loved or hated. In fact I sneered at those who loved. Maybe, I sneered because I did not have love for myself and I was jealous. One can go around forever in circles, with thoughts like that.

“We all have needs,” Manwë said softly. “Even the Lord of all the Valar has needs. I would be bereft of all existence without the love of Varda; within her radiates the light of Ilúvatar himself and she adores me.” He paused. “I can tell you this because you are changing. Your fëa is at war with the evil within yourself and I have every hope for your rehabilitation.”

Rehabilitation. Such an awful word. Yet it is heartening to know that the Lord of all that is good also has the same temptations that I do. Nienna must have had them too.

*o*o*o*o*

Over the next few thousand years my glow increased and I was able to integrate more with the local population. All knew that I was Manwe’s slave and also that I intended them no harm. If an elf became psychologically injured, for example, they became unreasonably afraid of fire after burning themselves or had nightmares, then I was the one they called. It felt good to be so trusted and dare I say it, so liked. In the end, I was able to lead a nearly normal life. Maglor and I would spend many evenings in the taverns ringing the fairy-light decorated docks, which had not seen a ship moored at the side for what seemed an eternity. We would eat our food and drink our ale, whilst looking over the smooth surface of the sea towards where a land lay that we did not know anymore. Afterwards we would take our carriage back to the pink house overlooking the water and make love.

One day our happiness which was just this side of tedium was interrupted.

A new ship was built and sailed to Middle-earth once again, for the very last time.

“You will need to treat the elves who are returning,” Manwë advised me. “Erestor is quite psychotic and will require all your talents, whereas Glorfindel will need your help afterwards, although he may not agree to submit.

“We could make him,” I replied.

“We could but I tend to think that he will be all right whether he has your input or not.” Manwë grinned and then looked serious. “Be careful of Erestor, he loves to kill and he will not think twice about trying to hurt you or Maglor. Do not let him have the freedom that you granted the other elves when they stayed at your house. I cannot underestimate how dangerous he is.”

How interesting. I knew Erestor from old. I had observed his wickedness when on Middle-earth and admired him for it. However, is there any cure for a psychopath? I have never encountered a true one in all the elves I have treated and so this may be an eye opening experience for us all.

If Erestor hurts Maglor, I will kill him.

*****

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