Plead

Canon compliant AU.  The words of a single woman set in motion a chain reaction which alters the fate of Arda for all of time.  More stuff about Númenor, which is surprising because, as I've said before, I really don't care much for Númenor.  On the other hand, more characterization!  And it's a vala I've never written before!  I find that exciting, even if thou dost not, my dear readers, whoever thou art.  The others (sans Mandos) need more love.  Takes place in Valinor (probably on Taniquetil) in the Second Age.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Silmarillion

Pairings: only background

Characters: Varda, Tar-Míriel, Manwë (mentions the Valar, Morgoth, Eru, Ar-Pharazôn, Amandil, Sauron, Elendil, Isildur and Anárion)

Warning: canon-compliant AU, precognition, deities, human sacrifices, devil worship, hinted non-con, nonconsensual marriage, sensitive ideology

Song: Afterglow

Words: 1,329
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plead (verb): to make a plea of a specified nature; to argue for or against a claim; to entreat or appeal earnestly
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/plead

It was not oft any longer that the prayers of the people of Númenor reached the ears of the Valar.  From afar, the stars had carried tidings of the dark doings of those blessed people--of the taint spreading across their culture as a doomed shadow of the Fall.  Of their worship of the Darkness and its master cast into the Void.

They now offered their words to selfish, lustful ears of greed and slaughtered sacrifices upon the altar of sacrilegious temples in Melkor's name.  The blood of innocents and virgins flowed like bubbling rivers over marble stairs, spilling upon the grass and sickening the blades with its curse until the land itself seemed to wither in illness, its glory falling to rubble day by day as a dying bloom without water and sunlight.

But, though most of the people held onto their jealous hatred and followed their King without question into the abyss, there were some who remained loyal.

There were some yet pleading for mercy and repentance in the name of the Valar and the One.

As the beautiful dark-haired queen lingering upon the stone steps of Meneltarma was, her eyes cast upwards in supplication, gazing upon Manwë's broad domain and Varda's most glorious creation with subtle, powerful belief.  Her sweet voice echoed through the open sky and writhed its way into the heart of the Queen of the Valar, resonating in sorrow and fragile hope, a single point of light breaking the wide expanse of blackness.

Little prayers every night kept that light from going out. 

For her distant cousin--Amandil of the Faithful--who was her sole friend and confident in a court dominated by sin.  For his children and grandchildren and all his followers who held onto their devotion to Eru Ilúvatar even when the King's decrees threatened to end their lives in fire and shame.

For her vast people--even those who had lost their way in the labyrinth of Mairon's deceit and trickery.  Soft whispers dedicated to purifying those wandering souls and bringing them back into the light without harm and without punishment.

Even were there prayers for her husband, whom once she had loved and who had taken her as wife against her will, stolen her birthright and destroyed the country so beloved in her heart with his arrogance and lust for power.  She whispered for his mind to be cleared of the cobwebs of wicked design, for him to see the error in his ways and repent upon the summit of their sacred peak.

But, for all the stars carried across the vast expanses of the world these little words, they were not pleas that could be granted from the graciousness of the heart of a single vala, no matter her status as Queen and governance over the heavenly bodies.

She was but one Power of the world amongst many.

And she needed help if any soul upon the accursed isle of Númenor was to be salvaged.

She daren't let her last wishes fall to ruin.  Not when there was yet something to be done to halt this nightmare and bring back the light.

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Thus she found herself pleading for the amnesty of the forsaken people in their stead before the throne of her husband, the Lord of all of Arda.

"Please..."

His hesitant silence was damning.

"There is naught that I can do," Manwë insisted. "Her people were foolish and envious.  They followed the wrong path knowing that they went against our Father in the hopes of gaining immortality, and they must pay the price for their transgressions."

"And those who still follow faithfully the word of our Father--even on pain of death for themselves and their kin and their families!--should they, too, be damned eternally?"

Sapphire eyes were regretful, but not forgiving and not yielding. "Varda..."

"Thou dost know of what I speak!" And he did.  They both did.  For at least that much of the Song was clear in the eyes of all their brethren, playing out in a cosmic drama.  It was in His hands now, and He would punish them, smite them down from their summit and drown out their rebellion until all the peoples of Númenor--regardless of blood and faith and devotion--were but corpses to be cradled by the ocean until they rotted into dust.

Until everything Tar-Míriel loved and sang for and cried for was destroyed utterly and irrevocably.  Along with her.  Taken into the bosom of the sea.

"I know..." Manwë met her eyes with his, two glowing gazes clashing--her overwhelming brilliance to the endless blue fields--and holding in a standstill. "What wouldst thou have me do, my love?"

"I would have thee pray with me and plead with me in their favor, husband." And she would not release his eyes, would not allow him to look away and push the fates of those fleeting mortal beings from his mind as one swats aside annoying insects from the air.  Would not allow him to forget those who did not kneel at his throne day-in and day-out singing the praises of his majesty in heavenly voices with perfectly sculpted faces and waves of spun golden hair.

She wanted--needed--for him to understand her plight.  And she knew compassion was not his gift, for he needed strength and patience and fortitude above all else.  Yet in this, she needed, too, his adamantine will to never give up, to cling to faith without question.  It was his word that would reach the ears of their Father.

Her fingers grasped his, coolness to sun-kissed warmth, and her lips met his palm. "Please... Please, at least speak with Him on their behalf."

And when could he ever deny her, his beloved spouse?  Perhaps it was unfair to use her charms and her soft, whispering entreaties to sway her husband to her cause, but Varda would not feel remorse for doing what was right.  For saving the lives of those few who still looked to her stars for guidance and reassurance in these darkening days filled with distant strife and horror lingering on the horizon.

She would do her best to protect them and watch over them.  Would do her best to save those who were brave enough to lay themselves in the palm of her hand and be taken away, trusting in her to hold them fast and shield them from malice and ill will beyond their control and sight.

Trusting her to watch over what was most important and beloved in their mind's eye and heart's depths.

It had been and always would be her place--her purpose.  Perhaps she held no governance over vast fields and flowers, or over the earth's deep veins, or over the raging tides of the oceans.  Neither over dreams nor the future nor the past nor even sorrow and healing and free-spirited joy.  But she had this, her gift and her pleasure.

And if only she could see a smile of relief upon one woman's sorrowful visage in the face of challenging atrocities and destruction, Varda knew it would be worth the effort.  Worth touching those fleeting human lives which burned so brightly but fluttered into darkness so quickly.

When those sky-eyes lightened and that frown helplessly bent to her will, she knew she had won the first battle of the war.  Knew that there was a chance that those prayers and pleas spoken upon the celestial lights of her greatest work of art would not be in vain.  That some lost souls might be saved, if they were indeed true to their word and their beliefs.

Knew that she had not yet let her most faithful follower down in her time of greatest need.

And that was worth all the long years of holding the shuddering darkness at bay.
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I had intended for this to originally be more about Tar-Míriel and less about Varda, but it took off and ran away with me clinging to its back for dear life.  But then, I live for the unexpected twists and turns that these prompts throw my way.  Half the fun is learning the truths about the characters I never realized before.  Now, the Valar are always tricky.  They're always distant and one-sided and it drives me nuts.

Manwë and Varda in particular always seem to go one of two ways: pure goodness or pure evil.  Much as I enjoy Spiced_Wine's work, I do not like the stereotypical "evil deity" Valar incarnations, who are selfish and greedy and far too like Artemis from the Dark-Hunter series.  Likewise, I dislike the distant perfection and the supposed omnipresence they seem to adopt, because if anyone has that spark of "perfect" it would be Eru and not his creations.  None of the Valar and maiar are perfect--as I'm certain Morgoth and Sauron demonstrate quite blatantly.  Thus, they need characterization, or they become flat two-dimensional things.

And now I completely love Varda and see her as the "Victorian woman" who sits around manipulating from the background, who seems bright and distant like a star but really does care about even insignificant humans who live for only a blink of an eye.  Oh jeez, you can tell it's late when I spout metaphors in the AN.

As for the song, it's one of my favorites and I chose it because it reminds me of the stars.  Seriously.  It makes me think of sitting in the wet grass in the middle of the night, staring up at the sky and pondering.  Thus I present to thee Afterglow by Yasuharu Takanashi from the Naruto Shippuuden Movie 2 OST.  Love, love, love this song so much (and if you hang in the Naruto Soundtrack neighborhood, look up Guidepost--it continues the gorgeous violin theme from the end).

Cough... I think that's enough blabbering for one light.