Chapter Text
Four out of the five women looked intently at him, nervous and scared. Their feelings were logical and understandable, since his subordinates had taken them away from their lives and homes without a warning. Some of them rather forcefully, but it was better this way. The lesser chance the Enemy had to identify the Rínawendi, the best for everyone. Sauron’s knowledge of the identities of three of them had been bad enough; they had almost been too late for two of them.
Now that Sauron had found a way to manipulate time, something only two of the Valar could do, but that Ilúvatar had strictly forbidden doing, things had changed. The rules of the game had changed and Ilúvatar alone knew how things would develop. His goal was no mystery, Mairon was out to release Melkor and wreak havoc on earth.
How things would play out before they reached that point? That was the mystery.
Maybe the Valar, in their thrones of honour and purity were unwilling to break the rules and had stood their ground up until now. However, Morgoth and Sauron were through with the rules of the game, and that eventually had forced the hand of the Valar.
All the bets were off, and he had to do the dirty work for them… but that was nothing new. He had been doing that since time was time.
He did not mind terribly, as it all was for the greater good. Not to mention it helped him keep boredom at bay.
Eönwë gritted his teeth, recalling the instructions of Manwë and Vairë.
Find those that are beyond time, whose lives the maker created for a destiny that not even Melkor can change. Be careful and fast, for the enemy will try to kill them before you can reach them. If he lays his hands on them before you do, we will never be able to recover them from darkness, and then there will be no other way than to call upon arms… and you know what that will mean.
The houses of the human kings were gone, the lines of the half-elven fully extinct in Middle-Earth after surviving for millennia and into the seventh age. Many lives were changing already, and chaos was spreading. The world was turning quickly in a place filled with darkness. Melkor’s inference in the past was slowly but steadily making itself known and dragging in the last battle closer and closer.
The Dagor Dagorath not would begin while he could do something to stop it. It was not an option… not when the world was still young and humanity had so much potential for greatness.
The small lives of these unimportant creatures mattered not when the whole balance of the universe was at stake. Sadly, right now they were all terrified… and weak. His hope for their success was incredibly low.
Ilmarë… how he wished he had her in there. She would probably be far better qualified to soothe these women around him. She always had a way with people… alas, she was not there and there was nothing to be done about it now.
Things had gone according to plan up until now. They were all in his hands and he had them in his ship, heading back to Valinor… beyond the reach of Sauron, although with his servants chasing them closely. It was no small coincidence the weather was as terrible as it was around them. They had already made the first move on the board, the Rínawendi were in his power, so it was a point for his team.
Now it was up to Ulmo and his Maiar to make sure that they reached their destination safely. Ossë was probably having a ball with the storm he was causing. As long as he did not sink them by accident, he could have all the fun he wanted.
It did not matter if they did not reach Valinor in the first step. If they just made it as far as Tol Eressëa, they would be safe and could rest. Afterward, they would continue at a gentler pace.
He ran his eyes carefully over each one of them and he felt his hopes failing even more. They were not warrior material. These creatures were not what legends were made of, trembling and whimpering as they were, huddled together on the couch.
Well, not all of them. The one staring out the window at the stormy sea outside and another one in a corner, with her arms crossed and expression of defiance, might survive this. Time would tell. These two gave him a glimpse of hope, but even then, it was a frail one.
The first one, he already knew, most likely had a clue about what this was about… but she would definitely be surprised when she found out just how deep in the mess she was. She would not take it nicely and she would fight every inch of the road. The second one, well any teenage girl who could outrun Sauron for two years, carrying a child along the way, already had his respect.
Taking a deep breath, and noticing that a few were about to have a nervous breakdown, he finally addressed them.
“A few months ago, a number of strange natural disasters have been happening all over the planet. Why are these strange, ladies? Who knows? You, Pretty Slippers, you look smart, you should know why.” He pointed with his hand at a tall olive-skinned woman who attempted to pass her uneasiness as aloofness.
“They happened in places they are not supposed to… hurricanes in Russia, earthquakes in east Canada, snowstorms in Brazil, tsunamis in Norway, that kind of stuff…” she answered in a stammering voice.
He smiled widely at her and tossed her a caramel, which she barely managed to catch, mostly on instinct. “Good girl, Miss San Cristobal.”
“Why are we here? This is illegal! This is kidnapping and I will have your skin for this! Do you know who I am?” a thin brunette with blue eyes snapped and took a step towards him.
“You are Iris Whitaker, a paediatrician, daughter to Senator Archibald Whitaker from the United States, and there is nothing your father can do about this.” He answered swiftly and she took a step back, trembling.
“This is absurd! This is utterly absurd,” a short olive-skinned woman muttered under her breathe and fell tiredly to the back of the couch, running her fingers over her eyes.
“It is, is it not, Miss Reynolds? Sorry, I know you prefer "Miss Wolfe". That such squeamish, frightened, intimidated creatures as you could change the course of history?” He told them and a few of them frowned. “My name is Eönwë, and I was ordered to bring you before the higher powers. Why is that? I cannot tell you, not allowed to. What those higher powers are, this one can tell you,” and he pointed to the woman staring at the window, “I assume you know where are we going, or I am mistaken, Astrid?”
The girl from the window turned her head to look at him.
“Yes, I know where we are going. To Aman, Valinor… the Undying Lands of Araman. What I do not understand is why? I mean, I might understand why I am here, as I am from the firstborn, but as to what are the rest of them doing here, I do not know.” Astrid answered and returned her eyes back to the window. She had long brown hair and shiny green eyes that reminded them of a snake.
Eönwë smirked before answering, “I told you already I cannot tell you, ladies. So relax and enjoy the trip as much as you can. I assure the ship is safe and that as long as you stay indoors, you will be protected. You should be thrilled Astrid, you will be seeing your mother and father very soon.” He stood straighter before adding, “Speaking of which, I hope you had left in good terms with your families because you might not see them in a long while, if ever. As for the Lady Astrid, she will be taken into her grandfather’s house while you lot are being prepared for your task. The rest of you will be taken as guests in a house, property of the Noldoran, where we can watch, train, and protect you.”
That said, Eönwë left the room and locked the door behind him.
The lot turned to look at Astrid and she felt her cheeks burn.
“I know little more than you do, I swear!” she told them defensively.
“Then what do you know?” The tall slender woman Eönwë had addressed as Pretty Slippers asked impatiently in a heavily marked accent, she had long dark hair, olive skin, and green eyes.
“About the Valar and their servants… also about their Enemy,”
“Who are you? What is your connection with these crazy people and why is your family there? Are you with them and here to supervise us? Make sure we do not do anything crazy?” Iris asked, angry, and Astrid threw her shoulders back and stood taller.
“My name is Eleniel Elrohiriel, of the house of Elrond. However, I go by Astrid, I have for a few centuries. Elrond, a high lord amongst the elves is my grandfather. Since we are headed to the lands of the elves, yes, it makes sense that my family is there, does it not?” She answered coolly.
“Did you say elves? Are not elves supposed to be tiny things with ugly suits loaded with bells that help Santa Claus?” Valerie asked, arching an eyebrow. The children, commercial version was a much better alternative than the one forming in the back of her mind, which came from legends and D&D games. Wild, warrior elves were not something that she even wanted to consider outside role play games and movies with tall gorgeous actors.
“No, trust me on that one, we are not like that.” Astrid snorted and gave them a sharp grin “Elves are tall and beautiful creatures that can be as kind as a spring afternoon or as deadly as a volcano. Immortal, wisest, and fairest of all creatures, some have called us.”
“Immortal? That is impossible! What does that even mean? Are you saying that there is no way you can die? Moreover, do you claim to be one of them as well? What is going on here?” Iris snapped, barely making any sense.
“We can be killed, but old age or disease cannot touch us nor kill us. Our bodies are stronger and more resilient than those of Humans are. Not so with some aspects of our soul.” Astrid explained
“I do not get a thing about all this! Either you tell the story in full, Miss, or you don’t tell it all.” An athletic-looking teenager in tattered jeans and shoes called from across the room and Astrid turned to look at her.
Bright blue eyes pierced her under an auburn mane and Astrid sighed and nodded. “I guess the best place to start is the very beginning, but believe me when I tell you that this is a story of the likes you have never heard before. It has been a long while since I last thought about this, so I might get some details wrong.”
Astrid closed her eyes for concentration before starting…
“In the beginning, there was Eru, the One… the Maker, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar. First, there were the children of his thoughts, who are called the Ainur, which means the “Holy Ones” and they were before anything else was created…”
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“How are they faring?” Olórin asked him as soon as Eönwë entered the main cabin and collapsed on a couch.
“Some are angry and have more bravery than wits. I believe they will need them both. Others are silent, but they all are nervous. In general… not everything might be lost. Let’s hope they can resist for one single age… just long enough for us to regroup and make a plan for an attack of our own,” he answered pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Does the Lady Astrid know already of her most peculiar lot?” Olórin asked, with a smirk.
“No, and I do not envy her. She was born too entangled in this situation for anyone to be comfortable with. I do not expect her to survive… I do not expect any of them to do so, as a matter of fact.” Eönwë mused and his companion frowned.
“Maybe she will survive, that is mostly up to her resilience and you find the most impressive resilience in the least expected places.” Olórin answered with the hint of a smile on his lips. He should know better than anyone. He had been witness of it many times over the centuries he wandered Endórë as Gandalf.
“And what makes you think Astrid will not be crushed? Alternatively, any of them… even the kindest of them, gentle Finrod, might be too much for any of them to deal with,” Eönwë snapped.
“Well, yes, their tasks will not be easy, but each one has her own kind of strength… so, yes, I believe Astrid and the rest can survive this challenge. Who knows? They might even manage to keep them all in line?”
“I pray you are correct. If I had been given a choice, I would have chosen Arwen over her niece any damned day.”
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“So these Trees, are they an allegory to the Moon and the Sun?” Iris asked, frowning and Astrid shook her head.
“They came before Isil and Anor, which are the Moon and the Sun. Then, the world was in darkness save for the stars, for the Trees gave light only to Valinor. So, once they were safe and their land protected, the Valar sat back and waited for the Children of Ilúvatar to come,” Astrid told them.
“The Children of Ilúvatar?” the athletic woman with auburn hair, Cassandra, asked.
“They are Men and Elves… although Elves, or Quendi, came to be first. Only not quite, you see, Quendi were to be the first to come, but one of the Valar, Aulë, grew impatient and created his own children: the Dwarves. Therefore, Ilúvatar confronted him and decided to give life to the dwarves, but they would have to wait for the elves to make their appearance first. Then some more hundreds of years passed when the Quendi awoke by the lake of Cuivienen.”
“Is that in Valinor?” the short olive-skinned girl, Valerie asked.
“No, it is somewhere in the east, but nobody knows where. By now I assume it has disappeared from the map. The Earth is far too different now. Anyway, the Valar finally went to war and captured Melkor, their enemy. Afterward, they guided the Quendi to Valinor, but during their journey, they became divided into a number of peoples. The three kinds that made it to Valinor were the Vanyar, who were the most devout, and the most beautiful, the Noldor, who are the wisest and the most troublesome, and the Lindar, or Teleri, who had a deep connection to the sea, and enjoyed singing above everything else. In addition, each kind had their king, Ingwë for the Vanyar, Finwë for the Noldor and Olwë for the Teleri. Those that stayed behind, and had a close relation to the Teleri, were the Sinda, and their king was Elwë, the brother of Olwë.” Astrid continued her story, “And so the main peoples of the Elves were settled. There are many peoples, but that is a far longer story, and far too complex for me to fully remember it now,”
Silence fell over them for a few minutes. Most of them were trying to process Astrid’s story, but they saw it for the most as they would any mythology. It was hard for them to feel it as something real.
“So according to you, how did the Sun and the Moon come to be?” the tall slender woman, Sarah, asked suddenly.
Astrid took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair, “That is the story of an Elf named Fëanor and his greatest creations… the Silmarilli.”