"Tears unnumbered ye shall shed; and the Valar will fence Valinor against you, and shut you out, so that not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains. On the House of Feanor the wrath of the Valar lieth from the West unto the uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also. Their Oath shall drive them, and yet betray them, and ever snatch away the very treasures that they have sworn to pursue. To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well; and by treason of kin unto kin, and the fear of treason, shall this come to pass. The Dispossessed shall they be for ever.
Ye have spilled the blood of your kindred unrighteously and have stained the land of Aman. For blood ye shall render blood, and beyond Aman ye shall dwell in Death's shadow. For though Eru appointed to you to die not in Ea, and no sickness may assail you, yet slain ye may be, and slain ye shall be: by weapon and by torment and by grief; and your houseless spirits shall come them to Mandos. There long shall ye abide and yearn for your bodies, and find little pity though all whom ye have slain should entreat for you. And those that endure in Middle-earth and come not to Mandos shall grow weary of the world as with a great burden, and shall wane, and become as shadows of regret before the younger race that cometh after. The Valar have spoken."
--- --- --- --- --- ---
I woke to fear and anguish, and fury. Manwe was not upon his throne as I looked up, and the others had scattered. Some were pacing, some were conversing to one another in ways I could not understand. Tulkas was closest to me - standing against a wall, staring across the room and heaving his great shoulders as his wife stood at his side and attempted to soothe him with her words whispered in his ear. Something told me this was the only thing keeping him from stalking out of the hall, but why?
I got to my feet, finding I had been abandoned upon the steps, and looked about nervously for Orome as I walked through the room. I did not dare presume I could speak to any of them who had not spoken with me, so when I could not find my father, I looked for another. "Irmo," I said, and immediately cringed, for my voice sounded like the scraping of rocks on glass compared to the fair way in which they spoke to one another. "What is the matter?" I asked, trying to make my words as liquid as possible.
"So many dreams shattered… so many lives lost…" He shook his head, and tears freely fell from his eyes into rainbow pools on the floor. "I do not understand. Why do they want so badly to leave?"
"Power… land… though, honestly, I don't understand it either," I admitted. "Have they gone to cross the ice, then?"
He looked up at me, and in those eyes, I saw his pity for them, but I saw his anger as well. He spread out his arms and said, "Come, child, I will tell you, your father may be gone for some time, and he would want you to know."
I was hesitant at first, not really wanting to know what could be worse than so many of my kin crossing the frozen sea to their deaths, but I knelt down beside him and he placed his arms around me. In a soft voice he told me what had happened, in the language they speak, but I understood every word of it. And I cried as he held me, and my heart broke when he gave their names, of those killed on either side. Among them were my parents, and I sobbed greater than I had ever before, and my tears fell into the pools on the floor, turning them black as ink.
Then was the list of kinslayers, and I could cry no more, for the same anger within him rose up in my breast as well. The last name he withheld, but he did not need speak it, for I knew what she had done. I knew, and I hated her actions, but I could never hate her.
I wanted to sleep, to discover this was a dream, but Manwe entered the hall at last, and with him his wife, my father, and a handful of others. He took up his throne, and as the blue fabric of his cloak settled upon the floor, he said, "It has been written." There were murmurs throughout the room, and Irmo hung his head.
"What is written?" I asked.
Raising his head proudly, tears gone from his cheeks, Irmo answered in a strained voice, "The Curse of the Noldor, they have named it. It was to be the lords and queens who wrote it, but some of us still had not the heart to condemn them. Or, in some cases," he said as his gaze crossed the room to Tulkas, "some thought it not harsh enough. Now it only needs to be delivered. Manwe worries; he does not call for a messenger, for he does not know if they will go beyond what is required of them. He wishes Namo were here, for he does not question Manwe's directions, but he is busy now in his halls. I doubt he thought there would ever be need for the Eldar to dwell within them."
"I should go," I said as I watched Manwe's eyes scan those in the room, perhaps trying to choose.
Irmo opened his arms once more, and I stood. Once more I felt the eyes of them all upon me as I walked to the steps of Manwe's throne and knelt before him. When I looked up, I said, "I will not bow to him this time."
Manwe's head moved down and up again once in a very slow manner, so that I was not sure if this was his answer or not. He motioned I should stand as he stood, and then embraced me, and whispered into my ear the message I was to deliver. Once again, he wavered, for he added that if any should come to regret what they had done and wished to return, be it even Feanor himself, with open arms they would be welcomed back into the hall of Manwe.
My steps were slow as I left the hall, and came into the darkness that was outside. My father was there, as was Nahar, who was to take me to them. There was a dark cloak Orome had for me as well, to disguise me from the host, and I drew it hastily over my shoulders. He said nothing as he helped me to mount, and I was still unsure of myself upon the great steed's back, but Nahar was gentle and knew where to travel, and gave me much time to think as we rode swiftly to find the host.
Indeed, as Manwe had either hoped or expected, some faltered and came back after I proclaimed their doom. Behind me they walked, heads bowed, and I did not look to see who was among them, for I knew she would not be there. I did not acknowledge Feanor as he spoke, did not show him the respect due a king, and I could feel his eyes angry against my back as I led those few who returned. He did not call out with his voice, for I believe he had some fear that by doing so, he might have lost more of his followers if they knew it was one of their own who came to deliver this message. Even with the hood drawn over my face, even with the darkened sky, he knew who had come.
'Erestor'
'Get out of my mind'
'Don't go' and then 'Join us'
I did not answer.
'I am your king'
'Not anymore'
