Fic a Day, Day 31 - Máhanaxar

[grundyscribbling]

Title: Máhanaxar

Rating: FR13

Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion

Summary:  Buffy said she’d take Maglor’s case to the Ring of Doom. Now she finally can.

Word Count:  2770

Anariel took a calming breath.This was it.

This was what she had told her grandfather she would do years ago on the shores of Middle Earth, and now she could follow through at last – not that there was all that much to do. She had finally finished meeting all the Valar individually, a task that had taken months, given Morgoth’s lovely little parting gift.

If he’d thought that would break her, he had no idea who he was dealing with.

Manwë had been the last, and now that she had met him, she could stand before the full Mahanaxar without fear – well, without fear of anything except being told no. Though she didn't really think they would refuse. After all, Namo had allowed her to not only speak with Fëanor, but to visit Makalaurë. As a kindness. (Ok, and also because he’d hoped Makalaurë might have some success at talking her out of her plan. Which might have worked if Makalaurë had the least inkling of what her plan was besides ‘destroy Morgoth’ or ever succeeded in talking her out of anything she had planned.)

Anariel, daughter of Elrond and Celebrían, step forth, came a firm voice in her head.

Eonwë, she realized. Him she hadn’t met yet. Blast. Just when she’d been looking forward to an untroubled night’s sleep.

The herald of the Elder King neither smirked nor smiled, though she had the distinct impression that he would like to do both at once. She smothered the urge to smack him or ‘accidentally’ step on his foot.

There would be time enough for that on the way out.

“Speak, child,” Manwë commanded.

“I have come to ask mercy for Makalaurë Nerdanelion... Fëanorion,” she said.

She was trying really hard to put ‘forgiving Fëanor’ into practice, and that meant giving her grandfather both his parents. She would have felt better about it had she been able to ask him his opinion on it first. He’d been pretty dubious about his father the last time they’d discussed the subject.

“What precisely is it you are asking?” Namo asked, focusing his full attention on her.

She raised her defenses reflexively before brain overruled instinct and reminded her that while the beings around her were the same kind as Morgoth, they were not him. She forced them back down, telling herself sternly to be calm.

I am safe here, she reminded herself, and not for the first time. Manwë and Ulmo raised a storm on my behalf the like of which has not been seen since the world was changed. And if Namo meant me any harm, he would have done it in his own Halls.

As she made herself relax, she could feel Estë’s worried touch, and silently reassured the Valië that she was well.

There was that, as well. She was among kin here as much as anywhere else in Aman. She hadn’t really thought about the ainurin section of the family tree before she arrived here.

“I am asking Manwë and Varda to release him from the Oath that has long been a burden to him, and you to allow him the same hope as all others in your halls, Lord Namo,” she replied. “That he may someday be rehoused and walk again among his living kin.”

Manwë and Varda didn’t look opposed – in fact, Varda looked pleased to be appealed to by name. The subject on her mind was no mystery to any of the Valar, but the Starkindler had evidently expected this to be a debate between her and Namo.

The Lord of Mandos frowned.

“There long shall ye abide and yearn for your bodies, and find little pity though all whom ye have slain should entreat for you,” he reminded her. “Those were the words of their Doom – a doom they readily and willingly accepted.”

“Yeah, about that,” Anariel said slowly. “Maybe you didn’t pay attention when we were introduced. I’m Anariel Dagnis – Slayer, not slayee. There was nothing in that Doom about ‘grandkids who also have grandparents among the slain.’ And if it makes a difference, you could think of this less as ‘entreating’ than me asking nicely.”

She smiled sweetly.

See, aunts and uncles? I’m being nice. This is the nice way.

Didn’t mean she wasn't open to trying ‘not so nice’ if nice didn’t work.

“You ask this despite all that he has done to your people?” Tulkas rumbled.

Much as she might love her new brag braids (although she had no plans to explain them to the Noldor anytime soon), Anariel had had more than enough of people demanding she choose between her kin- and by ‘people’, she meant ‘everybody, Valar included’. She was all right with the notion that she is Noldor and Lindar and mannish and ainu with a little bit of Vanyar for good measure. She’s not into trying to split herself into her constituent parts. Everyone else will just have to deal.

“Which people?” she fired back, and privately enjoyed the sight of several rather confused Valar.

Everyone always talked about the wrongs the Fëanorions did the Lindar. Funny how no one ever took into account their stunning and massive failure of leadership when it came to their own people. She’s pretty sure the Noldor have just as much right to be hacked off with them as anyone else. (Not to mention, she had a feeling family reunions were a hoot...)

 “I do not deny that he has slain kin, more than once even, but my father still calls him Atto,” she added with a shrug, hoping to stave off a more detailed discussion of the ‘who do you belong to’ issue. “He is my grandfather.”

“A princess of the Sindar not only asks mercy for the infamous Kinslayers, but claims them as kin?” Nienna asked thoughtfully.

Anariel bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood.

It was one thing to be sharp with Tulkas – they’ve been cheerfully mutually mangling each other ever since Estë, Melian, and Findis had pronounced her physically recovered enough to spar. To be fair, they hadn’t realized that she’d been wanting to spar with a Vala rather than an elf. If they had, she’s pretty sure they would still have her tucked away in Lorien. And possibly sedated. (Thankfully, elves didn’t seem to have ever invented the straitjacket.) It was quite another to snap at the Lady of Mercy.

But it did hack her off that the Valar were not only insistent on slotting her neatly in with the Sindar, they were all for punishing the Fëanorions forever when they themselves chose to wait until Eärendil showed up to beg them before they did anything about Morgoth when that was their own family mess to sort out.

The Lindar and Nandor and Avari hadn’t done anything wrong, or Men either, and they’d all had to put up with Morgoth same as the Noldor. To what purpose? To teach the erring Noldor a lesson? When Morgoth being loose to kill Finwë and steal the Silmarils was their mistake in the first place? Not to mention, how was it Morgoth qualified for mercy but Fëanor and his sons didn’t?

“She did not ask it for all the Kinslayers,” Yavanna pointed out sharply. “She asked it only for the one she has met.”

Anariel once would have chewed her lip in response to that, but she’s had a harsh apprenticeship in not showing her feelings.

“Not just for Makalaurë,” she swiftly amended.

Now she had the attention of more than Yavanna and Nienna. Oromë and Aulë had perked up, Ulmo looked interested, and both Irmo and Namo were focused on her to a degree that was unnerving.

Nearly every instinct in her screamed fight in the face of such scrutiny – particularly since the Ring of Doom being an actual ring, some of that scrutiny was coming from behind her. These days she had quite the reaction to a Vala behind her. It took all the self-control she’s learned over the years to stand her ground calmly and answer with words.

You are Anariel Dagnis, she reminded herself sternly. The power of the Slayer may have once been Morgoth’s, but you command it now and you are not him. If you react as he would want, you allow him to win. Do you want to let the First win?

She made her hands relax, so that the rest of her body would follow suit.

He. Does. Not. Win.

She will not fail now. Not when she was so close to fulfilling her promise to her grandfather. Not when she finally had real certainty that the plan she’d formulated with Willow and Xander and Tara and Anya so long ago might actually work like they’d thought.

“Who then would you speak for?” Varda asked.

“Maedhros,” she replied instantly, knowing she could not ever explain to her father how she had retrieved only one of the fathers who had raised him, much less to Nerdanel. “And Ambarussa.”

She hesitated, unsure if she could honestly speak for the others.

“What of Tyelkormo, Carnistir, and Curufinwë?” Varda asked, her expression all too knowing.

Anariel couldn’t meet her gaze for too long, because she could get lost in the infinity in those eyes.

The elves may hold Varda dearer than any other Vala, but their reverence for the Starkindler couldn’t match someone who had seen pictures from Hubble and learned that everything in the living world was made up of material born from stars. (Willow would have turned into an incoherent mass of babble if she’d ever gotten to stand in Her presence.) Without Varda, there would be nothing for Yavanna, or Aulë, or Ulmo, or even Manwë, for it was her stars that made their power and domains possible.

Varda’s look remained one of interest and mild reproof, but there was a small, secretive smile dancing at the corners of her mouth as well.

There was murmuring around the Ring, and the Valar seemed to be considering her words – and her silence.

“I offer you a bargain, Dagnis,” Namo announced at last. “If you are willing to stand surety for them, I will release them all to you in turn.”

She turned to look at the Doomsman, not sure if she had understood completely what his offer entailed.

“Surety?” she asked uncertainly. “All of them?”

“Each of the sons of Fëanaro, and even Fëanaro himself, was dear to someone in this circle,” Namo replied. “And yet, twice before have we shown mercy – once to a Vala, and once to an elf – and both times been mistaken. If you would speak for them, you will share their fate, for good or ill.  Should they break the peace of Aman again, they will be cast into the Everlasting Darkness they invoked in their Oath.”

“For good or ill,” she murmured, trying to work out the possible implications of that.

Seeing her hesitation, the Lord of Mandos added, “it is no more than you already promised for Kanafinwë Makalaurë.”

She swallowed hard. It would have been much easier to dare the Darkness if it was only for Makalaurë she hazarded herself.

She knew her grandfather. He regretted what he had done. He had turned his back on the Oath and cast away a Silmaril. He would not be foolish enough to pursue another – or to force her to choose between grandfathers. And he would be happy to never hold a sword again.

Maedhros she would risk because she trusted that he had learned his lesson about Silmarils, and that he would have enough kin in Valinor to anchor him to life and sanity. The twins had never been particularly committed to the Oath – one of them had tried to turn back, the other had never been the same again after his brother’s death. And while the Noldor might not have been told, the Sindar knew perfectly well that Caranthir had essentially committed suicide in Menegroth – not exactly the act of someone hellbent on carrying out his Oath. Those five she would take a chance on.

But Curufin? Celegorm? She did not know them, except by report, and despite the ‘odd soft spot’ for Celegorm her siblings liked to tease her about, she had no reason to trust them. To speak for them was a blind gamble. What if they were not as repentant as their older brother? Was she willing to risk taking on the fight of her life in the Void?

“She does not speak for all of them,” Aulë said shrewdly.

“Yet if she cannot grant them mercy, what hope have they?” Nienna asked. “No other among Thingol’s folk will stand for them if their beloved princess will not.”

Ulmo frowned.

“You ask her to hazard all she holds dear on elves she has never met, who slew her kin,” he rumbled.

“It is not risking all,” Oromë glowered.

“Oh?” Tulkas snorted. “The Secondborn may console themselves that Turin son of Hurin will strike the final blow, but this child has already seen what must be done. I doubt that it can be achieved outside of Arda.”

Ice crept down her spine at those words.

She saw it clearly now that he had said it. It wasn’t just that Morgoth would have the advantage in the Dark. It was that there would be too much to anchor him to other places, and to Arda in particular. She wouldn’t be able to destroy him. Merely killing him wouldn’t be enough. He’d eventually claw his way back. But if she were killed in the Void, she was pretty sure there would be no do-over, no second try. All she had was Arda.

And yet… She also knew there was no way she could ever look Nerdanel in the eye and tell her she must surrender any hope of seeing her middle sons again. Worse still, Curufin had a wife – and though Anariel did not know her, she did not like the idea of having to tell a kinswoman she had abandoned her husband. She already dreaded having to face Lindelotë, the grandmother she had yet to meet, to whom she would only be apologizing for getting her husband killed.

There was silence in the Ring of Doom.

The Valar didn’t speak – they probably didn’t need to, for they had no doubt followed her thoughts and knew how torn she was. Her heart said one thing, duty another, and there was no way to reconcile the two. She’d faced this dilemma before, a lifetime ago, and done what duty demanded. She stabbed Angel in the heart and sent him to hell to save the world.  But she hadn’t had to shred anyone else’s heart that time, just her own.

Time had no particular meaning in this place, as she struggled within herself to decide.

In the end, there was only one decision she could live with.

“Very well,” she whispered. “All of them.”

“Done,” the Elder King proclaimed.

She probably should have been scared. She’d just wagered not only her own life, but the lives of just about everyone she’s ever loved or will, on a pair of elves most of her kin think are worse than orcs. And yet – she remembered Glorfindel informing her that Curufin was her grandmother’s favorite cousin and Celegorm had taught her how to shoot.

She could always threaten to beat Curufin and Celegorm to death with their own arms. She’d discovered over the years that elves were not used to hearing such disturbingly specific threats. (Nor did they understand her explanation that a vague disclaimer was nobody’s friend. Tindomiel had better be planning on actually writing that history of California she’d been talking about on and off for years.)

Namo caught her eye.

Your sister has faith in you, the Judge told her. She already persuaded me to release one of them to her – in complete confidence that you would agree to my offer and eventually take over from her as his guarantor.

Anariel let him see all her outrage that he’d already known when she visited his halls several months ago that he intended this offer and not told her then.

What good would it have done to tell you? You would have agonized over the decision for much longer. As it is, you are more at peace with your decision than your sister was. You are not turning green.

Anariel really wanted to know who Tindomiel had liberated, but the only response she got was laughter.

You will see soon enough. Until we speak again, Slayer.

On second thought, teaching him how to be tricky just might have been a mistake.

 

Comments

[lferion]

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Yes!

[grundyscribbling]

*grins*

[wendylove]

Risking everything on the strength of her friends is pure Buffy. Risking everything on the strength of the Fëanorians is... very appropriate for a child of Elrond.

If the timelines are in sync, will Tinu get there just in time to greet Grandfather Butthead and the entire crew? Or has she already come and gone? (I can always wait until next August if I must!)

What a great way to end the month!

[grundyscribbling]

Thank you!

The only person Tinu's going to be greeting is Anariel - Namo's not about to unleash the entire crew at one time. (Partly for Anariel's sake, partly because he's not sure that wouldn't cause instant chaos.) They're going to have to wait their turns.

[sulien]

Thank you for the link, I'm all caught up now. :-D

Namo is one sneaky character, Buffy fell for it hook, line and sinker, as did I. This is definitely going to be interesting when you come back to this bit of the plot, that's for sure! I think that after all this time and all that has been said and done, though, Nerdanel won't stand by and let Celegorm get out of hand. And the same goes for Curufin's wife and probably his son Celebrimbor (if he has returned) as well.

[grundyscribbling]

You're welcome! And yay!

If Buffy had gotten a chance to talk to her little sister, this deal would in no way have come as a surprise...