The Bride's Jewel by Scribe of Mirrormere

---

Chapter 7 - After the Darkening

---

Míriel noticed the day when Indis stopped wearing her pearl, instead wearing a necklace full of dazzling jewels that Finwë had made for her. Míriel said nothing, though the thought of Indis tiring of that jewel still hurt. But Indis’s kisses were still tender, perhaps even more so in the following years.

Years had passed since the last of the children of Indis had been born. The tapestries Míriel and Faniel worked on also displayed the grandchildren of Míriel and Indis, and in some cases, even their great grandchildren.

“Soon this entire wall will be nothing but one giant portrait of this family,” Míriel laughed to Faniel, who grinned. “Think we should ask them to ease it with the begetting? I think my fingers may actually fall off!”

*

It happened unexpectedly one day - the moment Míriel would never forget. She didn’t know how it happened. For one moment they were deep at work, Míriel at her loom while Faniel pushed around a cart of freshly picked lilies, replacing any wilting lilies throughout the Halls and the annex. She was replacing a vase right behind Míriel when suddenly a wave of utter despair and terror shattered through them both. With a shriek, the vase slipped from Faniel’s hands and crashed, and the air filled with her horrified shrieking. At the same moment, panic rose in Míriel’s throat as great as a thick darkness that fell over them.

She jumped out of her seat and grabbed onto Faniel who continued to tremble and shriek. She had thought someone or something must have attack Faniel’s body, except Míriel’s own soul rattled with an intense unexplainable fear. And though the Halls of Vairë were neither brightly lit nor pitch black, it seemed it was suddenly one massive void, the darkness suffocating and crushing them.

And then she heard them. Far away, their voices traveling to the Halls of Vairë, the agonized screams and prayers of the souls in the Halls of Mandos, so loud that the Halls of Vairë shook. Straining her ears she could make out the cries for deliverance from evil.

“The shadows walk! It has begun again!”

“The Dark Hunter has come for us!”

“Melkor!,” Míriel gasped and shuddered as though invoking the name had summoned him behind them. Her protective gripped on Faniel tightened though she too trembled, the space where her heart was pounding, the panic choking her throat.

She did not know how long they remained as such. Their terror immobilized them, and they remained in this position until Míriel felt him enter his Halls.

“SILENCE!”

And everything in the Halls of Mandos and Vairë drew still, the voice of Mandos still echoing in the dark.

Míriel turned to Faniel. “Go back to your body and remain in your room, all right?”

Faniel nodded and faded out of Míriel’s arms. Míriel herself was still shaking when she got to her feet; she examined the broken vase for a moment, clearing her thoughts and stilling the pounding in her chest, then stepped out of Vairë’s Halls. She made certain Faniel was still in her room, hearing the soft weeping from the other side of the door, indicating that she was there but otherwise in no danger, then made her way into the Halls of Mandos.

She realized she had not been in Mandos’s Halls since Vairë had taken her into her service. The familiarity invoked a sadness she had not felt before, remembering how happy she was being dead while the elves in the tiny rooms lingered in their pain. There were many more now here, many she was disheartened to see, being very young. She recognized them as all being of the king who had remained in the eastern lands.

Of course. Valinor is safe from all danger, she thought, and her heart ached at the thought of what danger lie there.

One, a mere child elf with a wound that manifested as a large hole through her heart, sent Míriel running the other way in shock and horror.

Noticing the small vases of lilies, she frowned. Faniel’s comes here? How can she stand it? And where is Mandos?

Then turning a corner she ran into someone. Another spirit, one who was out of his rooms, crouched in the middle of the hall. She made to apologize but the words died in her throat when he looked up to meet her eyes.

“Finwë?”

He smiled sadly, his lips a little crooked as though he were still in pain. A ghastly deep wound ran from his throat down to his navel.

Míriel took a step back. “What happened?”

“Slain, the first in Valinor,” Finwë said. “I seem to have a record of breaking rules or being the first in this land. First to marry again, first to be slain!” His laugh, Míriel decided, was far more hollow than she ever remembered it. She got to his level and took his hand.

“Tell me everything.”

“Melkor,” he said simply, and as though she were scorched, Míriel yanked her hand away from him. She took a deep breath, then nodded for him to continue. He told her everything which led to this moment, of Fëanáro’s hatred towards Indis and her children, of his ever-growing inner fire and the feud with Ñolofinwë, Fëanáro’s friendship with Melkor and the banishment to Formenos, of the destruction of the Two Trees and the Darkening of Valinor, and to the final moments of Finwë’s life.

After he was finished, they remained in silence for the longest time. Míriel’s mind whirled, unable to comprehend everything. Indis and her children’s stories over the years did not match completely with Finwë’s account. They spoke highly of Fëanáro’s achievements and of how often Finwë was called away to help his son, but the more Míriel thought about it, the more it seemed likely the accounts were twisted as not to reveal the truth.

“They did not want to hurt me,” she said softly, and at Finwë’s confusion she elaborated. “Fëanáro never ventured with Indis to meet me. I was always told he was busy with his craft, and much loved by all. No one told me part of the reason Faniel was taken to me was because of him; not even Faniel herself told me. And I was too happy being near Indis and her family that I did not feel the lack of my son’s presence.

“But had I known, I would have come back to life, to see if I may get him to see reason. Or had requested he come see me; did he even know that was possible?”

“They were trying to remain peaceful. I thought keeping the peace meant taking his side at all times, but I fear instead of taming his fire, it only made it worse.”

“And what of Indis? Is she all right?”

“She is fine,” Finwë said. “She returned to her uncle’s house in Taniquetil when I went to live with our son in Formenos, and I believe she was safe during the time of my death.” He winced, one hand wrapped around his waist. “I did not think it would hurt so much even as a spirit. But I suppose it’s my wound to carry into this afterlife.”

“You were slain by Melkor. Whatever weapon he uses will stay with you for a while,” Míriel said then sighed. She shook her head, thinking how very much Finwë, the goofy yet kind man she fell in love with, did not deserve this. “And all for what? This Silmaril or whatever you call it.”

Finwë chuckled lightly. “That is the first I heard anyone speak of the Silmarils in light manner.” He grew quiet, as if hearing something that Míriel could not pick up on. “I must apologize for what’s about to happen to you, dear wife. But I fear I have been unkind to Indis. I was just asked by Mandos if I wished to return to my people, but I have declined. Raising Fëanáro has drained me of all my energy.

“But that is not my only reason.” He smiled at Míriel. “Remember the Stature? I am severing my marriage to Indis, not because I do not love her but because I love both you and her. Go, return to life and take her hand in marriage once more. Go to Mandos, and he will return your spirit to your body.”

“What? This is all sudden! What of Faniel?” Míriel said.

“Faniel,” Finwë repeated. “Oh, that’s right! She is here! It’s been so long since I have seen my daughter. I wonder if I can visit her. But we will figure that out later. For now, Mandos calls you.”

“No!”

To be suddenly sprung up with such an order! Míriel would have slapped Finwë, but he smiled apologetically. “Do not fret, dear wife. We cannot be in the same place. And besides, you deserve your own happiness again. Indis waits beyond the Halls.”

The full extent of Finwë’s words hit her after she finally heard Mandos’s calls, and shaking she got up and followed the voice. Past many corridors of spirits she went, her footsteps so loud she feared it would rouse the other dead. Although she had never spoken with Mandos personally at his throne, it seemed her feet were leading right to him, down halls she never remembered passing by before.

At long last the vast double doors of the throne room loomed before her. She stood before the door, her heart racing again.

Come, Mandos commanded, the words ringing in her head. There is nothing to fear.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and slipped inside.

*

Míriel awoke with a start and a groan. “Faniel, what is that damn racket?” she snapped before realizing where she was. She wasn’t resting in the Halls of Vairë or the annex, but on a bed oddly familiar, the scent of flowers nearby, and branches of willow trees swaying above her. The noise that had woken her was the sound of the river nearby, the tiny waves somehow magnified in her sleep.

She drew a heavy breath and slowly willed her body back to function, figuring out how to curl her fingers and toes, bend her knees, rise up from bed and get back on her feet. After a few wobbly first efforts, the ease of walking returned, and grabbing the long thin blanket, she wrapped it about herself as a cloak, dropping a hood over her face.

The air was chilly. Gone were the golden and silver lights of Laurelin and Telperion, though high above there was a round silvery orb, though nothing like the stars as Míriel remembered. She kept one eye on it wearily as though it might drop at any moment.

Neither Estë nor any of her servants were around, so Míriel left the gardens unseen and sought out the main roads. But having found them, knowing where to go next was difficult. Even watching the world through her loom, she was unaccustomed to the changes that had taken place on Valinor, either over time or as a result of the Melkor’s destruction of the Two Trees and the theft of the Silmarils.

She made for Finwë’s old house, but stopped herself when she remembered that he had lived in Formenos. Indis’s house would be farther west, but Míriel’s body was already tiring. She located a bench by a set of stairs and settled down to think. Her mind traveled back to Faniel just as the blanket slipped off her head.

“Míriel?”

She looked up at an elf who studied her in confusion.

“Hello,” Míriel said slowly. “Do I know you?”

The elf smiled. “It’s me, Sámien!”

“Sámien?” Míriel’s eyes widened and she shot up. “Thámien! I said I would strangle you if you ever adopted that atrocious speech of the Noldor!”

Sámien laughed as Míriel pretended to throttle her. “It is so good to see you again! So much sadness has befallen our lands.”

“I was so told,” Míriel said. “Have you seen Indis?”

“Not recently,” Sámien said. “I last saw her leaving Taniquetil, but where to I do not know.”

“Do you know how long ago that was?”

Sámien shook her head. Míriel thanked her and offered a hug before leaving. Her feet soon turned southward until she was looking up at large doors and thinking to herself, home.

She knocked and cried out for Vairë until at last the Valië took pity on her. The door opened, and Faniel stepped out, freezing when she caught sight of Míriel.

“Mother! You have a body again!” she said, then looked upwards at the beam of silvery light from above. “Oh! This is pleasant!”

Míriel pushed herself inside without another word.

“Mother, please, tell me what’s happened! Vairë told me some things, but I’ve been waiting for you to return. It’s true, then, what happened to my father?”

Míriel threw herself down at the dining table. She felt ill. Her body was in perfect health, but her heart was shattering more by the minute. Faniel sat across from her and took her hand, and Míriel dissolved into tears. She told Faniel of all that had she had learned from Finwë.

“Fëanáro had a demon’s blood in him?” Faniel asked when Míriel was done.

“We could not stop it,” Míriel said. “Half the time I doubted myself. The Valar I told could not find the tree, but they watched for any danger. And yet my son still managed to befriend the man who killed me, and he was twisted by him, and in the end lost his father as well.” She lowered her head, suddenly feeling much younger than Faniel. “A part of me wishes never having left Cuiviénen.”

“What was done was done,” Faniel said. “Perhaps this is all Eru’s greater plan? Perhaps we had to first brave a storm before we can have spring.”

Míriel considered Faniel’s words for a moment, trying to find something in it to lighten her heart, but she shook her head and heaved a heavy sigh.

“But if only Indis did not have to suffer so much for it.”

Getting to her feet, Míriel retired to the room Faniel always stayed, then took the potion and laid herself down, her spirit retreating back to the Halls of Vairë.

*

She would not come out, even after gentle coaxing from Vairë. Míriel instead convinced Vairë to keep her, as she had already settled as Vairë’s assistant in weaving tapestries of the Noldor. Her attention lay now mostly in following her son and his sons, watching with an obsession not even Vairë could pry away from her. The children and grandchildren of Indis too were the subject of her watchful eye, her heart aching as she saw more and more of how her own son’s House hurt Indis’s own, the damage spilling to Alqualondë and to the eastern lands, poisoning the very same people Míriel and Indis and Finwë had called their friends.

At some point, while she was working vigorously, there came a knock on the door.

“Míriel? Please, I need to see you.”

At the sound of Indis’s voice Míriel paused, her hands hovering over her loom before settling on her lap. She drew a deep breath and waited until Indis knocked again.

“You never told me my son hurt you so much,” Míriel said sadly as she opened the door.

“I could not bother you with it,” Indis said. “You needed to heal.”

“And what of you? You suffered all this time in silence!”

Indis shrugged. Míriel could scream.

“He was a demon child!” she said. “There was a plum, a tree so much like ours but nothing like it!” And she told of everything, unaware that Indis had taken her into her arms, the tears on both streaking their cheeks.

When Míriel was done, she broke from the embrace, looking into Indis’s eyes. “You do not hate me?”

“What was done is done,” Indis said. “Perhaps this was all for the better. Had you not come here, I would never have married Finwë and had five beautiful children and many more grandchildren. Despite some bumps and some tears here and there, I am so grateful to have experienced this.”

Míriel grinned through the tears. “You are truly Faniel’s mother.”

Indis chuckled. “I have been spending plenty of time with her and Nienna after Finwë’s death. Which has happened so long ago that…Míriel, let us marry again. Do not think of it as starting over, but continuing our journey. We will take the good with the bad and grow together from our experiences, as we’ve always done.”

“And leave Vairë? And what of Faniel?”

“You can work something out with Vairë,” Indis said. “You know where to find her. As for Faniel, the Sun’s more merciful on her than Laurelin ever was. She was able to travel and visit Taniquetil with little problem. Please, Míriel.”

Suddenly Míriel faded from Indis’s sight. Indis gasped and stepped forward, but was soon wrapped in a warm embrace.

“Let us renew our vows,” Míriel said in her ear.

*

Their wedding took place before the doors of the annex under the moonlight. While Faniel loved the Sun, Míriel and Indis preferred the scenery to be exactly as it was before on their first wedding. They had married under starlight, Míriel to Finwë under Telperion’s light, and Indis to Finwë under Laurelin’s light.

A number of the Valar and Maiar were present, particularly those who had worked with Míriel, Indis, or Faniel, and many more elves, especially those with connections to either bride. Míriel was disheartened to see what children of Indis had remained in Valinor.

“I thought you would be the one to go running off to the eastern lands,” she said teasingly to Findis, who grinned.

“My loyalties are foremost with the Valar,” she said proudly as Alcarcalimo nodded his head vigorously behind her. “And same for my husband and children and their children!”

“Save for Laurefindil,” Faniel pointed out.

Findis’s face flushed a deep red. “We will not talk about that one! Clearly the child of my son-in-law. Anyhow, now that Fëanáro’s out of the picture, this entire land is under my complete control! It will be built grander than it ever was!”

“I can help you, if you want,” Faniel said. “I’ve been making tapestries in the Halls of Vairë.”

Findis gave an excited gasp. “My apprentice! She returns!”

Míriel and Indis laughed, though their hearts ached at the absence of Írimë and Ñolofinwë. The wives of those who left were also present at the wedding. Anairë seemed a little unsure of herself among many strangers and kept close to the Valar, though Arafinwë and Eärwen also kept her company. Elemmírë, who too sat a little away from the rest, gave a gift to the brides.

“I remember you when you were just a tiny elfling getting into trouble at the Taniquetil markets,” Míriel said, smiling.

Elemmírë blushed. “I hope you did not recount that tale to Írimë.”

“Of course I did!”

Elemmírë covered her face, but Míriel and Indis sensed it was for an entirely different reason, and each of them gave her a hug and promised Írimë will return.

After Elemmírë left their side, Nerdanel approached them.

“Years back, I saw my husband take something precious away from Indis.” Seeing Indis’s hand shoot up to her neck, Nerdanel smiled. “The pearl was cracked in half. I couldn’t do much to seal it back together, but my parents and I worked on turning it into this.”

And she presented to them two necklaces perfectly forged, exact replicas of one another, and studded in the center of each was one half of the pearl. Indis’s eyes instantly filled with tears as the two accepted their gifts.

“I thought I lost this forever,” Indis said, turning the necklace in her hands and inspecting it from every angle. “It’s such a precious gift for me. Not just a wedding present, but also Míriel’s first token of friendship. I…” she wiped away a tear. “Thank you, Nerdanel!”

“Funny how things have a way of returning,” Míriel said, smiling. She and Indis took turns dressing the other with their necklace, and when they were done they shared a kiss as the attendants applauded.

The wedding celebration continued throughout the night. Faniel, who still brought lilies to the departed souls of the Halls, had good tidings concerning her father.

“He’s healing quick,” she said. “But I do not think he will be leaving the Halls. He loves it there!”

“With all those suffering elves?” Indis asked, raising an eyebrow.

Faniel smiled. “He’s spreading a lot of love everywhere! He had a lot of friends in the eastern lands, so they’ve been catching up! It’s helping him and the others!”

Míriel laughed. “Only Finwë would make a support group inside the halls of the dead! Perhaps I will stop by for a visit myself, just to see what he’s up to.”

“He’s asked Mandos if he could draw on canvas while in the Halls.”

“Oh, dear me…”

As had been their agreement before, Míriel and Indis would not remain living together, but would frequently visit one another. Indis was to remain in her uncle’s house, and Míriel to work with Vairë in her halls. Faniel was to take their tapestries and bring them to the outer world. Both were happy with the thought of living as such.

They watched the celebration while sitting on the steps outside the annex. The moon was full, and stars twinkled all the greater this night. Indis tucked closer towards Míriel, studying the stars above with a calm expression on her face.

Míriel leaned closer. “The sight above, it takes you back to Cuiviénen, doesn’t it?”

Indis nodded. “I wonder what became of our tree, and of all the people we knew there.”

“Perhaps one day one of our children or their children will come across it.”