Chapter Text
She threw the tapestry to the side, rising from her stool to sweep through the Halls of Mandos.
"Love...?" Námo was sitting on his throne, eyes half-unfocused as his attention moved through his domain. "What brings you here?"
"We're taking a vacation." Vairë declared, waiting until his full attention was back on her before continuing. "Your Halls are empty enough that your Maiar can attend to it for a time."
"Where and why?" He didn't question her, instead rising from his own seat.
"Forlindon. To pick up Makalaurë." She crossed her arms when he tilted his head. "I am rather done with weaving Sad Beach Hermit-tapestries. I can barely count them anymore, these days."
"Why do I feel like you did not confer with Manwë about this?" Her black-clad spouse quirked a mouth-corner, a wide grin by his standards, offering her his arm. "Well, he is an itch on my mind as well."
"Manwë or Makalaurë?" She asked, and he did not answer. They passed through space like a curtain, sand crunching under their feet as they landed on the expansive beaches of the World of Man. At this point, the number of elves that were left was 1, which made following the feel of his fëa easy.
As they passed, the weather worsened, clouds darkening, though tellingly not a single drop fell. The sea was mirror-smooth, neither water nor wind disturbing their passage.
"Don't they have fun?" He bend over to scoop up a little crab that seemed utterly uninterested in their power, and only the edge of his wife's dress. "Oh..." They had drawn ever closer, but only now spotted the elf. "I'll be waiting here."
"Mmmhh..." Like the dawn that was being obscured by the thick sheet of grey clouds, Vairë closed in on Fëanáro's second son. "Makalaurë?" She tilted her head, sinking to the sand a few feet from him.
He was not seeing her, though his eyes were wide open.
"Tsch..." She reached for the threads that made his being, following them back to his core. "Come back, Makalaurë. Return to yourself, Kanafinwë." She was no Estë or Irmo, but she could do this at least.
He hissed softly, blinking a few times as his eyes had to re-moisturize and focus on her. It clearly took him a few moments before he made the connection between her and her identity, and he promptly scurried back some until he hit one of the large boulders that were strewn over the beach around here.
"Peace." She assured him, not moving. Behind her, Namó was a dark shape further down the beach. She was vaguely aware that he had more crabs now.
"Why...?" He croaked, tucking himself small against the boulder.
"Your brothers are reborn, and have about finished their repentance for their deeds. Is it then not right you join them?" She pointed out, not moving beside the finger trailing over a smooth stone beside her knees.
"I committed the most crimes." He countered, trying to make himself as small as possible.
"You are number 32 in amount of slain elves. Of those, 26 have been reborn and are on some part of their redemption, 19 have officially been forgiven." Her husband did not approach, or even look over, seemingly addressing the crab in his hand. "Number 129 if we count any and all followers of Morgoth."
"I..." He almost flinched back when she reached over, the knots in his hair coming undone at her touch.
"And if that does not appease you..." Namó continued, gently pouring the crab into the small pile in front of him. "As Judge of Eä, Doomsman of the Ainur... I declare thy repentance sufficient. Thou hast redeemed thyself of what crimes thou hadst done."
It was not as binding as the Oath had been, when they had felt the Song bend to accommodate. But it was a powerful declaration nonetheless, both sky and sea briefly turning choppy and darker still as every single one of the other Valar heard.
The last surviving Son of Fëanáro squeaked something, half-collapsing in on himself. She was somewhat doubtful he even realized that made him fall against her. "Really?" She swept her wide sleeves over the small form like a blanket.
"I wanted to pre-empt any attempts to bring that up." The Aratar muttered, finally looking over. "Do you have any idea how often Nerdanel comes by to check if he finally returned home, even if it needs to be through my Halls?"
She rolled her eyes, settling to let Makalaurë catch his thoughts again.