Doomsman of the Valar

|| So that’s why I am kept inside Mandos. Under arrest for being too nice and cute. Damn son.

DRAT.

O, Death O, Death Won’t you spare me over til another year Well what is this that I can’t see With ice cold hands takin’ hold of me Well I am death, none can excel I’ll open the door to heaven or hell~

"A very comfortable prison with several healing outlets, but a prison nonetheless." He smirked, sparse beard twitching. "Many suffer and will continue to do so until the End." Her bread was met with a skin of miruvor as his smirk neared a smile. "Are you the faithless wife he’s always going on about? It’s nice to put a face to the broken stones in my Halls."

He was bound to his Halls by lore and the word of a King who currently had his back turned. The Vala pulled the hood of his cloak over the head of the nondescript fana he had chosen. The cloak was a thing of beauty, woven by his wife to imitate the splash of terrain colours of the day on one side and night on the other. He stepped from the abstract temporal plane of his realm, foot landing on the solid ground of somewhere in Middle Earth. Under the cover of dusk he could easily be taken for a ranger. Only the sharpest of eyes could parse the trail of flora dying under his steps, springing back to life only when he had made it a distance away.

"So…" He spoke aloud, having adopted the shape of a Firstborn of dark skin and light hair, long and notoriously bleached by the sun. His attire was simple; traveling robes and other light equipment, covered by a worn out mantle. The only embellishment a few symbols tattooed on his face and, more heavily so, across the rest of his skin. "Where were you going looking this… fancy?" 

"Justice is a cold, calculated thing. My verdicts are tempered by the kindness and mercy of others near my Realm. Estë, Nienna, Vána and my brother shoulder most of the burden of rehabilitation. They are far better equipped for it." He took a deep breath, pondering something for a moment. "I will not stop the hammers of Eregion, but I will carry messages back to my Halls should you have anything to say to your kin."

It was a comfort to know Nienna and Estë helped the souls in the Halls. The Noldo had nothing but good memories of them from the few times they had met. She startled at Namo’s offer, looking pointedly at the smoking figure until her features relaxed. He was sincere and for all her anger, she could not pass up this opportunity “Tell Carnistir I lost the dresses he made for me to an orc ambush but that thankfully no dress of his will fit an orc. Tell Makalaurë I gave his harp to Elrond to be played by a competent musician. Tell Maitimo…” She trailed off “There is too much to say and yet none of it matters really. What does the dead want with such pointless memories of mine? They can see those things in the tapestries if they choose. I have no other words for my sons but to say I love them, always and forever, and that I miss them. Anything else I doubt they want to hear”

"I will give you two choices. One, you can stand this trial with a jury of the Doomed, or two, you can spend a probationary period as one of my Psychopomps."

Slowly, he looked up once more. “I would choose, then, a time of probation.” Langon did not elaborate; there was no need, not when his mind lay open for Námo to see.

If you do not know, ask.

The fire light flickered in his tired eyes. “I know it offers no comfort, but I take no joy from housing children. Every spirit in my Halls has a mother or some other loved one mourning their loss.” The Vala’s voice was gaining a more earthly timbre, sincerity staggering from the Judge. “It is difficult to maintain objectivity between young innocents and seasoned criminals. I’ve always thought distance could make it easier.”

"I doubt you know much of joy or sorrow. Vana and Nienna are the Valar responsible for those things. Justice is your responsibility. It is said to be vengeance coupled with mercy but I don’t see much mercy in you. The healing received in your Halls for those who raged against the Valar is probably just a slow torture in the grey emptiness of a dungeon until the idea of being let out is such a glorious thing that they will love and comply with any Vala offering it" She poked the fire with a branch and a shower of little sparks flew up. The redhead’s voice was steely when she spoke "I’m glad my sons are still in the Halls. I means they have not fallen for the lie"

"Justice is a cold, calculated thing. My verdicts are tempered by the kindness and mercy of others near my Realm. Estë, Nienna, Vána and my brother shoulder most of the burden of rehabilitation. They are far better equipped for it." He took a deep breath, pondering something for a moment. "I will not stop the hammers of Eregion, but I will carry messages back to my Halls should you have anything to say to your kin."

His fingers flew to his lips, surroundings and figure returning to normal in a blink. A harsh wind rustled the branches, blowing a dark piece of hair over his wide eyes.

Nerdanel went back to her side of the fire and sat down, looking into the fire for a long time “Is that you advice then? Cast myself down the nearest shaft to die? Give up?” It would take much for her to follow on the footsteps of Maitimo but she couldn’t deny being told to do so by the Vala of death himself made the flame of her will to continue fighting vacillate greatly. Why was she around anyway? All her sons were dead and Celebrimbor had burned the bridge between them. Even if he had not, there was no chance of her fighting the Doom and Annatar both. She raised her head back up and looked at him with endless hate “Maybe I will, but I certainly won’t give you the satisfaction of being the one pushing me into your cold Halls”

The fire light flickered in his tired eyes. "I know it offers no comfort, but I take no joy from housing children. Every spirit in my Halls has a mother or some other loved one mourning their loss." The Vala's voice was gaining a more earthly timbre, sincerity staggering from the Judge. "It is difficult to maintain objectivity between young innocents and seasoned criminals. I've always thought distance could make it easier."

He scooped the tiny Caranthir from the smoke, the ethereal model pacing and tugging his hair with a childish compulsion. “Is it my job to police every act of war? If I save Eregion, what will become of the next place the darkness decides to invade? It seems the Children only desire interference when it benefits their welfare.” Moryo looked over his shoulders before pulling some knitting out of his sleeves to sit and work. “You are all but pinpricks on a vast tapestry of existence. Tell me truly why I should go now to Eregion. Why should those lives be spared over others?”

Nerdanel looked at the tiny smoke figures with fondness until she was filled with unspeakable rage that Namo so casually displayed those she had lost forever “You are crueler than I thought, to taunt me with their images when they are unreachable to me” She stepped forward and disrupted the smoke image with her arms until it was unrecognizable smoke again, forcing her rage to keep her heart from breaking

His fingers flew to his lips, surroundings and figure returning to normal in a blink. A harsh wind rustled the branches, blowing a dark piece of hair over his wide eyes.

She took a deep breath to avoid running him with her sword “Feanor created the Silmarils on his own while Annatar is influencing Telperinquar. The ruin will come from that influence rather than from his obsession. You could save Eregion, but you won’t. Not you can’t, you won’t. Because mindlessly obeying is of more value to you than our welfare”

He scooped the tiny Caranthir from the smoke, the ethereal model pacing and tugging his hair with a childish compulsion. "Is it my job to police every act of war? If I save Eregion, what will become of the next place the darkness decides to invade? It seems the Children only desire interference when it benefits their welfare." Moryo looked over his shoulders before pulling some knitting out of his sleeves to sit and work. "You are all but pinpricks on a vast tapestry of existence. Tell me truly why I should go now to Eregion. Why should those lives be spared over others?"

"Of course Eru has a sick sense of humour. Have you never seen turkeys in a lek?" He chuckled softly, the sound coarse from lack of use. "If we are to compare luck, I believe you come off worse for meeting me. I am not seeking vassals, but you are seeking…" His eyes narrowed, seeing past her physical frame to her Fëa. To everything that had happened and could potentially happen. “You are seeking that which Valinor will not provide.” He lowered his hands carefully. “I am aware of the imminent death toll this land will bear. It is not a volume I look forward to.”

  "This bounty is given freely to those who do not steal."

"I leave gifts in their places. Have you not been finding the gifts I leave in trade? Plus I asked you once and you said, "Yes sure," then waved me off."

"That is not how it works, my dear sister. Shame on you for taking advantage of my being distracted."

"I am out for a stroll of sorts." What she was seeing was a projection, a doppelganger from the temporal matrix of the Halls. "It was not my intention to find you specifically, but here we are."

  "You’re barred from the kitchens."

"What happened to the affection between us? Have I ever barred you from the comforts I offer? Have my hands not soothed the tension from your shoulders? Do you not seek relaxation in the pools of my home? You would begrudge me the bounty of your talents?" 

"This bounty is given freely to those who do not steal."

Sweet sweet delicious gems. 

"You're barred from the kitchens."

He raised his hands slowly to pull back his hood. The firelight flickered on the jackal’s head brooch pinning the woven cloth and over the lined face of the figure. “I assure you m’lady, I mean no harm here.” He was unshaven, grey peppering the dark hair that framed his face. It would be just his turn of chance that the first Child he met was the mother of the Doomed. 

"I am out for a stroll of sorts." What she was seeing was a projection, a doppelganger from the temporal matrix of the Halls. "It was not my intention to find you specifically, but here we are."

He was bound to his Halls by lore and the word of a King who currently had his back turned. The Vala pulled the hood of his cloak over the head of the nondescript fana he had chosen. The cloak was a thing of beauty, woven by his wife to imitate the splash of terrain colours of the day on one side and night on the other. He stepped from the abstract temporal plane of his realm, foot landing on the solid ground of somewhere in Middle Earth. Under the cover of dusk he could easily be taken for a ranger. Only the sharpest of eyes could parse the trail of flora dying under his steps, springing back to life only when he had made it a distance away.

From the corner of her eye, she spied a cloaked figure walking in the brush. Her hand went to her sword but she still called to the figure “It is dangerous to travel in the dark this close to the capital of Eregion. You might get shot on sight. You can share my fire until daylight is you want” When he stepped closer to the light, she saw the details of the cloak and felt the same kind of weightless feeling she got around Annatar. The traveler was definitely not one of the Children. “I hope I have not spoken too fast. Maybe you are more dangerous than a stray arrow”