Chapter 29: Marta in Mandos

"That cat hates me."

Vairë barely looked up from her work at the sound of her husband's voice. Her expression was inscrutable.

"What makes you say that, my dear?"

Námo gave her a half-hearted glare. Half-hearted, because he also looked mildly worried.

"She stalks me. She lays in wait around corners – and then attacks when I appear. How she knows exactly where I'll be, I have no idea. But she manages it at least once a day. More often twice."

Vairë hid her amusement by tilting her head further down, pretending to need to pay close attention to where the next stitch was going.

"Have you spoken to Mairon about this?"

Námo sighed, dropping down to sit next to her.

"No. It's not his fault. He's looking after Marta perfectly, but she manages to escape him at times. It's then she stalks me. When he finds her, he's very apologetic, and polite. Too polite. I'm afraid, if I bring this up with him, it will do more harm than good to his recovery. He's finally began making progress again since she's been here. I don't want to risk jeopardising that."

Vairë nodded in understanding.

"No, we certainly don't. We've learnt it doesn't take much to cause Mairon to backslide in his healing. Having Marta around has been nothing but good for him. I don't know how we would've been able to convince him to move back into his own room otherwise. But what are you going to do about Marta, if you aren't going to take up the problem with Mairon?"

Námo looked mournful.

"There's nothing I can do. Except try and avoid walking around corners wherever possible."

Vairë put a consoling arm around him.

"You're a good man, my dear. Willing to put up with Marta's dislike of you for Mairon's sake. I don't know if anyone else would handle it as graciously as you are."

Námo sighed again, putting his own arm around Vairë.

"Which brings me to my other problem."

Vairë raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Care to share?"

Námo nodded.

"Urunírë."

"What about Urunírë? Last I heard, he was going well."

"And he is. At least, as well as can be expected."

"Then, what's the problem?"

Námo sobered even more.

"I think I'm starting to get to the root of what caused some of his issues. And, I don't like what I am finding out."

Vairë looked at him in concern.

"Is it bad?"

Námo looked grim.

"Only time will tell. But, the more I find out, the more I understand a lot of things that have happened over the last few Ages regarding the Maiar."

Now Vairë looked very worried.

"What about ours? Is this going to affect them?"

Námo shook his head, his expression softening.

"It shouldn't. Because of the way we treat them, they have no need to resort to what Urunírë has. Mairon isn't the only one currently in my care to have a distorted sense of self-worth. Or to feel that others have given up on them because they weren't good enough."

Vairë blinked.

"Oh dear. That sounds bad."

Námo nodded.

"As I said, only time will tell how bad. But that's enough about things for now. What are you knitting? You rarely knit. It's not your thing."

Vairë looked at the pile of burgundy-and-gold dyed wool in her lap with a small smile.

"I'm making a little coat for Marta."

Now it was Námo's turn to blink.

"I see. Any particular reason?"

Vairë smiled.

"I want to. Do you know how many times I've found both her and Mairon curled up in front of a fire together? While Mairon has plenty of warm clothes, I can't help thinking Marta must feel left out."

Námo's tone was wry.

"She's a cat. Cats don't wear clothes; they aren't designed to wear clothes. I highly doubt she is feeling left out because everyone else in Mandos does."

Vairë smiled serenely at her knitting.

"Maybe so, but I'm doing this for Mairon more than Marta. That's why it's in his favourite colours. He said something to me the other day about how he thinks Marta gets cold sometimes. I don't know if he was serious, but I decided making her a little coat of her own would still be a nice thing to do."

Námo looked resigned.

"Are you going to decorate it with sparkles?"

Vairë smiled at his dejection.

"No. She would just pull them all off. The coat will be made of dyed wool, nothing else. You are the only one to have the honour of millions of sparkles decorating every stitch you wear, my darling."

Vairë laughed at Námo's expression, before giving him a loving kiss on the cheek.

"Don't look so glum. You know you secretly love all that beadwork and embroidery. With your refusal to wear any colour other than black, dark blue, or dark purple, I have to lighten your outfits up somehow."

Námo looked impertinent.

"What's wrong with wearing dark colours? I like dark colours; it's what both the elves and fëar are used to seeing me in. If I turned up wearing anything else, I'd send half the living population of Valinor into my Halls from shock. I can't risk that happening. The paperwork alone would kill me."

Vairë smiled in amusement.

"And what about the fëar? How would they react?"

Námo looked mournful.

"They'd probably just laugh. Dying seems to make them lose any respect they might once have had for me."

Vairë was still smiling, though her eyes had softened.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Námo just shrugged, avoiding looking in her eyes.

"Death is an unnatural state for the Firstborn, Vairë. While I rejoice that, by the time they leave Mandos, they're no longer scared of me, I still grieve they had to come in the first place."

Vairë nodded in understanding. She knew the attitude of the living Children towards her husband pained him, though he never showed it. He loved them just as much as any other Valar, but his role as Doomsman and Judge didn't allow him to show it very often. Among the fëar, he had no such barriers. For those whom came to his Halls, he was both Doomsman and Judge, yet he was also Consoler and Comforter. He was a healer of the fëa, tasked by Eru himself with caring for the souls of those Mirroanwi who found themselves unhoused for a time.

Whether it was looking after the elves until they were ready to be re-embodied, or shepherding the mortals beyond the Circles of the World, Námo's job was very important, perhaps second only to Manwë's. Yet, this importance went by unnoticed and unappreciated by the vast majority. Though that was starting to change, as more and more elves who had been under his care were reborn. They remembered the unconditional love, and infinite patience, he'd shown them while in his Halls, and so didn't fear his grim exterior.

In fact, some of the bolder (or stupider) ones had even been known to tease him about the 'doom-and-gloom' look. Something Vairë suspected they'd picked up from Irmo during their stay in Lórien after being re-embodied. They loved him, with some even visiting him in Valmar from time to time.

The Halls of Mandos were all but impossible to find unless you had a personal invitation from its Lord or Lady.

Seeing the pensive and depressed look on the face of her Beloved, Vairë put down her knitting to wrap both arms around him.

"I know you grieve for those Eldar who land in your Halls, dear, but you do everything you can to help them while they are there. They couldn't be in better hands. The same is true for those Maiar whom have recently found themselves here. I know you will do the right thing by both Mairon and Urunírë. No matter what the 'right' thing turns out to be, you will be there to help, encourage, and comfort them every step of the way. That is, after all, what Atar designed you to do."

Námo hugged her back, closing his eyes with a sigh as tension bled out of him. No matter how down he felt, hugging his Beloved always made him feel better.

"I know. But that doesn't make my job any easier."

"Mairon, my dear. Where's Marta? I have something for her."

The copper-haired Maia looked up in surprise as Lady Vairë appeared, hastily inclining his head to her in greeting. The Valië gave him a warm smile, even as she glanced around.

"So, where is she?"

Mairon frowned as he too, checked the room.

"I swear she was here a minute ago. I'm sorry, my lady. She keeps running off for some reason. I don't know how…"

Before he could say anymore, an odd shimmer in the air announced the arrival of Lord Námo. The Vala was holding a hissing ball of fur at arm's length, which he unceremoniously dropped into Mairon's lap.

Mairon immediately clutched Marta and sat there, to stunned to even speak. Vairë started laughing hysterically at the look on her Beloved's face, going over to give him a hug. Námo, however, wasn't amused.

"She was laid in wait to ambush me. But I was forewarned, and ambushed her first." The Vala looked very pleased with himself. "That should teach you, you evil fur ball. You're not the only one who can play at this game."

Mairon bit his lip, looking down at his cat with worry as he clutched her tighter.

"W-What did she do?"

The Vala looked at him with a gentler expression.

"What she always does. Make my life hell. That cat hates me for some reason." Mairon hunched his shoulders in as he clutched Marta, suddenly fearing she would be taken away from him. Námo noticed, and sighed. "It's not your fault, Mairon. And I'm not sending her away. However, I'm also not going to just sit back and let her terrorise me. Two can play at her little game."

Vairë smiled innocently.

"What's the current score?"

Námo glared at his wife's innocent expression. She was unaffected by it, merely continuing to smile serenely at him.

"I don't know. But I won this round. Why are you here, my dear?"

In answer, Vairë turned back to Mairon with a smile.

"I finished Marta's present, and thought to give it to her. Now she is here…" The Valië pulled a wrapped parcel out of her basket, handing it to Mairon. "You can both tell me what you think."

Mairon took the parcel with an uncertain look on his face, but Vairë's smile helped settle him. He wasn't too upset by Námo's earlier reaction either. He knew the Vala wouldn't do anything to hurt them, but he really didn't like the way Marta treated him. He was trying to convince her not too, but she continued doing it. Heedless of anything he did.

Marta was still on his lap. She'd stopped glaring at Námo long enough to stick her nose into the parcel as he unwrapped it. Mairon absently scratched behind her ear, before removing the last of the paper hiding the gift. It took him a moment to realise what it was, but when he did, he smiled.

"A coat! Marta, look. Lady Vairë made you a little coat!"

Mairon held it out to the cat, who examined it loftily. To Námo's eyes, she didn't look impressed.

"And it's in my colours as well! We'll match."

Marta looked even less impressed at that, not that Mairon paid much attention, being too busy trying to put it on her. Vairë went to help him. Námo watched, a neutral expression on his face. Marta gave him a baleful look as she was manhandled into the coat, which he returned with impassiveness.

He refused to let a cat unsettle him anymore than she already had.

He tried not to let onto Mairon just how much her behaviour bothered him. She was good for the Maia, and that was all that really mattered.

"There! Don't you look adorable?"

The cat didn't look at all impressed to be called adorable, but Vairë ignored that. Fluffy bits of fur stuck out the edges of the coat, and her tail was standing straight up. She did look somewhat adorable, Námo admitted to himself. It was hard seeing her as the Ankle Terroriser she was in this moment. Mairon smiled.

"Thank you for the gift, my lady. May I – may I hug you?"

Vairë smiled, opening her arms.

"I would love that."

With a lot more care then he used with Námo, Mairon embraced the Valië. While he did, Marta's mismatched eyes met Námo's. The look in them made the Vala decide to stop walking around corners in Mandos for a while, and instead just think himself places.

That cat looked pissed.

But as soon as Mairon turned back to her, that expression disappeared so quickly, Námo almost believed he'd imagined it. In its place, Marta rubbed her head against Mairon's hand when it went to pet her.

"You're a very pretty girl, Marta. Say thank you to Lady Vairë for her gift!"

The cat meowed at Vairë, before continuing to rub against Mairon, purring. She ignored Námo, which the Valar was grateful for.

Vairë smiled.

"You are very welcome, Lady Marta. Look after it, won't you?"

The cat ignored that. Námo couldn't help thinking this gift, as happy as it made Mairon, wouldn't be lasting long if Marta had her way.

That cat was something else…

"How's Mairon doing now he has that cat?"

Námo nodded.

"He's doing better. Having her around has helped him tremendously. She gives him self-confidence, and acts as a buffer between him and the world."

"I understand you aren't so impressed with her?"

Námo glared.

"Where did you hear that?"

Manwë grinned.

"Varda may have mentioned something of the sort."

"It's not that I'm not impressed with her. It's that she doesn't like me for some reason. Makes things…interesting."

Manwë nodded.

"Varda doesn't like cats. I can't say I'm particularly fond of them either. I prefer birds. I don't know if I could let a cat into my home like you have."

"It's what Mairon needs."

"Still. I'm not sure I could do it."

"If one of your children needed it, you would."

Manwë just shrugged. An awkward silence descended on them, eventually broken by Námo.

"Are you any closer to figuring out who attacked them? I haven't found anything."

Manwë shook his head.

"Not yet, but we will. This behaviour can't be let go."

"Not to mention it could happen again to anyone."

Manwë nodded.

"That too. It's important we get to the root of this problem for multiple reasons."

"And sooner rather than later."

Námo's gaze was distant. Coming back to himself, he sighed.

"I need your help, Manwë. It's no good hoping the answer will magically appear in your path. I need solid help. From all of you. What happened threatens the very fabric of what we've built here. We can't let this go on."

Manwë agreed.

"And we won't. But no one's talking, and it's rather difficult to find out anything when that's the case. I'm working on it."

"Work harder. It's been months. There must be something out there, someone who knows something. We just need to find them."

"I've been looking into it." Manwë was starting to feel annoyed. "Are you questioning my methods?"

Námo's expression didn't change.

"Just keep looking. Two of my children were hurt by parties unknown with no provocation. I am fed up having to deal with the fallout of things that shouldn't happen to begin with."

Manwë nodded.

"I understand. We will get to the bottom of this, Námo."

"I need answers now, Manwë. Not whenever they happen to turn up. Now. How long until more drastic things happen? How long until, having got away with it once, they try something worse? How long will it take 'to get to the bottom of this'?"

Manwë had no answer for that.

END OF PART ONE

So, there is much more of this coming, Four Parts altogether so far (I hope this won't turn into five parts...), but Part Four is only three chapters existing so far, and Part Two isn't quite ready for posting yet. It's being worked on as much as Real Life permits. I aim to have it out early in the New Year.

I also want to acknowledge Coffeeranger as being invaluable in the whole process of creating these stories. So many ideas have come from chatting with them!

Thank you for all the support with Part One, and rest assured there will be more soon!