QUARREL: Confronting Námo

SUMMARY: Thranduil has issues with Lord Námo. A sequel of sorts to my ‘Legolas in Mandos’ tale told in two parts: Playing Chess With Lord Námo and Ab ’Urth. This one is for Ces because she asked.

WARNING: The usual warning about eating and drinking while reading applies.

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So, there I was, quietly enjoying the festivities with my beloved. It was the Eruhantalë, one of the few times we Valar bother to intermingle with the Eldar and join them in giving thanks to Atar for the fruits of the land and for our existence. It is generally a joyous occasion and I look forward to it every year. It’s the one time of the year when I can stop being the Lord of Mandos, though most of the Eldar still don’t see me as anything but, even when I’m not wearing black. Today, for instance, I was wearing a tunic of deep blue crushed velvet.

Anyway, I was just about to dig into a Tol Eressëan crab cake (they know how to do them right) when my beloved bespoke me.

*Don’t look now, love, but there’s trouble heading your way.* Her tone was one of amusement rather than distress.

I looked up and nearly choked on the piece of crab in my mouth. Damn! Why did he have to choose today of all days for this confrontation? Oh, I knew it was coming. From the moment Thranduil stepped off the grey ship onto the quay of Avallonë I knew this day would come. Typical of the Elf that he waited ten years before seeking me out.

Thranduil, late of Eryn Lasgalen, was indeed a force to be reckoned with, and he came towards me with a determined look in his eyes that definitely spelled trouble. Well, if it was trouble he was looking for, trouble he would get. I put up with Glorfindel in my Halls for a millennium, I could easily deal with this particular ellon for five minutes. I kept the smile of amusement off my face when I noticed young Legolas reluctantly trailing behind his atar, looking for all the world as if he would rather be dead... again.

"I would speak with you, Lord Námo," Thranduil said as he neared and all conversations around us stopped.

"Thranduil," was all I said in acknowledgment, deciding to let the ellon make the first move in our little game, for game it was and we both knew it.

"You have a lot of nerve, Vala, keeping my son from me."

Well, that was quick and to the point. I handed my plate of food to Vairë who smiled at me. That smile got me every time and I had the feeling that after the festivities we would be doing some celebrating of our own. I turned back to the still fuming Elf.

"In what way did I keep your son from you, Thranduil? He seems to be standing right next to you."

"You summoned him to Mandos!" Thranduil exclaimed angrily.

"And so?" I replied with all the imperious arrogance I could muster. "He died, Oropherion, so of course I summoned him."

"What business did you have killing him in the first place?"

"Ada, please...." Legolas tried to say, but his atar waved him off.

"Well?"

I gave Legolas a sympathetic look. He was clearly embarrassed by his atar’s histrionics. I gave Thranduil my most intimidating stare. Naturally, he didn’t take the hint. I vaguely wondered if the ellon wasn’t somehow related to Fëanáro, he was that obstinate.

*Actually, I think Fëanáro could take lessons from this one,* Manwë bespoke me and I had to laugh, though none of the Elves heard me.

"I didn’t kill him, Child," I explained and smiled inwardly as Thranduil started at the term. "I leave the manner of your deaths to you. Legolas was quite capable of getting himself killed, in a rather spectacularly messy way as I recall, without my help."

Now poor Legolas cringed and looked as if he wished the earth would open up and swallow him. Thranduil gave his son a puzzled look. "You never did say just how you died?"

Legolas looked up and gave his atar stare for stare. "Nor will I speak of it here, Adar. I still do not know how you even learned about it, for I never mentioned it to you."

Thranduil smirked. I really wanted to smack him upside his head but began counting backwards from a thousand to keep from indulging myself.

*That’s it, dear, keep your temper,* Vairë said soothingly. *You don’t want to scare Thranduil into your Halls, do you?*

*Atar forbid!* came a reply from Maranwë, my Chief Maia. I could almost see him smiling. *Glorfindel was bad enough, but if Thranduil shows up in Mandos, lord, I’m changing allegiance.*

*If Thranduil shows up in my Halls, I’m moving out myself,* I quipped and there was laughter from my fellow Valar.

"One of your people sent me a report of all that happened," Thranduil said to his son.

"You mean one of your spies," Legolas interjected with a scowl.

Thranduil shrugged, not denying the accusation. "The only thing he failed to do was to explain just how you died," was all he said.

Well, that put a different light on the subject. I decided to enter into the fray again.

"Regardless, Thranduil, I do not see what quarrel you have with me. Legolas lives, thanks to Elessar. What’s your complaint against me then?"

"If you knew you were going to release my son from your... care, why did you keep him in Mandos at all? Why go through the charade...."

"It was no charade, Oropherion," I stated coldly, "though truly I would have sent your son back sooner had he but kept his mouth shut."

"What do you mean?" the king asked, clearly puzzled by my words.

I smiled and made sure it wasn’t a pleasant one. Legolas actually turned an interesting shade of green. Thranduil glared at his son. "What does he mean?"

Legolas just shook his head, clearly unable or unwilling to answer, knowing how stupid he would look if he explained. I decided to relieve him of the burden by answering Thranduil myself.

"He accused me of not being terrifying enough. In fact, he seemed to think your interrogations were more frightening than my own." I gave him my warmest smile, which was not all that warm. "I decided to prove him wrong." I turned to Legolas, still looking green around the gills. "And I did prove you wrong, didn’t I, Child?"

Legolas swallowed nervously and nodded. I gave Thranduil my own smirk.

"You see. If you want to blame anyone, blame your own son. If he’d kept his mouth shut I would have sent him back without him undergoing Judgment, but as he didn’t, it took a Mortal to reclaim him from me. You should be grateful, Thranduil, that Legolas had such a staunch friend who actually challenged me to a duel for your son’s life."

"Hmph," was the king’s only reply, clearly not willing to concede the point.

I sighed inwardly, wishing I could just give him the Wrath-of-Mandos treatment, but knowing full well that doing so would probably be counterproductive. I might scare half the population of Eldamar into my Halls and then I would be up to my eyeballs with paperwork for the next millennium trying to sort them all out.

*Never mind having to find rooms for them all,* Irmo said with a snicker. I sent him my best glare but he just laughed all the harder.

"Ada, please," Legolas pleaded. "It is well. I do not blame Lord Námo for my own stupidity. Let it go. You’re ruining the festivities."

Thranduil turned to his son, a look of grief on his face. "I nearly lost you," he whispered. "I watched my own adar die and so many of our people over the long years of retreat from Sauron. The thought of nearly losing you as well...." he shook his head. "I couldn’t have borne it. I would have died of grief."

Legolas took his atar into his embrace. "Oh, Ada, I’m so sorry. But I’m alive and well and there is no reason to grieve for what did not happen."

"But it did happen," Thranduil protested. "Don’t you see? You died, if only for a short time. You died and I wasn’t there...." He started weeping softly and now I understood what his true motive was in confronting me.

"Thranduil," I said as gently as I could. He turned to look at me. "Death comes unexpectedly, when it comes at all. There is no way to predict it or the manner in which it will occur. Your son is a warrior, as are you. You know the risk that is taken by any who carry a sword or a bow into battle. Through a series of unfortunate circumstances Legolas died. Yet, he lives again because of the love of one Man who would not give him up to me without a fight. Elessar fought valiantly for your son’s soul and you should be rejoicing in that rather than haranguing me about it."

That seemed to deflate the Elf a bit and he actually nodded. Then he glared at me again, his tears gone. "All well and good, but I’m still not satisfied with the explanations. I want to know how Legolas died, and I want to know here and now."

I sighed and gave Legolas a glance. The poor ellon was ready to faint. I turned back to Thranduil and did the only thing I could think of... I lied. "Your son died as a warrior, Thranduil, protecting his comrades from the enemy."

Well that wasn’t strictly a lie I decided, for Legolas had been doing just that when his little accident occurred. It wasn’t the ellon’s fault that when he actually did die his ‘enemy’ was a tree limb and not the flying monster wreaking havoc with Elessar’s army.

"Now, why don’t you go and enjoy the rest of the festival with your family?" I suggested, clearly done with this little confrontation. There was a Tol Eressëan crab cake with my name on it and this silly Elf was keeping me from it.

*Not silly,* Vairë admonished me. *Just a concerned atar.*

*He waited ten years for this,* I rejoined. *Had he come to me immediately....*

*That he waited this long to speak with you is a point in his favor,* Manwë interjected. *It shows that he has learned restraint, something Oropher never learned until it was too late for him.*

I nodded, feeling more sympathetic towards the Sinda. "Your son lives, Thranduil, and your own adar has been returned to you. Rejoice in that and let there be peace between us. Legolas does not blame me for what happened and neither should you."

Thranduil just nodded without speaking and I figured the conversation was finally over when Legolas gave me a nervous look, swallowing visibly. "Is there something you wish to ask me, Thranduilion?"

"I... I was just wondering, lord... If Aragorn had lost the game... would he really have died as well?"

Thranduil’s eyebrows went up at his son’s question and I could see he was as interested in the answer as was Legolas. For a long moment I just gazed upon father and son and then I smiled. "Why, Legolas, that would be telling, wouldn’t it?" No way was I going to admit that the game had been rigged from the beginning. That was my little secret.

*Can’t be a secret if we all know about it,* came Varda’s amused words.

*You don’t count,* I retorted, mentally sticking out my tongue at her. My fellow Valar just laughed. Ignoring the surprised looks on the two ellyn’s faces and deciding the conversation was truly done and over with, I turned to my beloved Vairë, giving her a smile and a wink as I retrieved my plate and bit into the crab cake I’d been enjoying before being so rudely interrupted.

Hmmm.... yes. Those Tol Eressëans really knew how to do them right.

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Eruhantalë: Thanksgiving to Eru.