Exploring Westernesse [ Lord of the Rings x Silmarillion ]

The Weaver

When they rode up to the gatehouse, a tall Noldorin elf stood at attention. His armor was a charcoal grey, with white designs. She had never seen this kind of armor before, but she assumed it to be special for the Door Wardens of Mandos.

Elrohir, Elladan, and Míril dismounted their horses. A small stable was nearby with a woman caring for two other horses.

“Those are Maglor and Fingon’s horses,” Elladan pointed out as the walked their horses over. “I am glad they are here.”

“Welcome,” waved the woman at the stables. “I am Wilwarindë, Maia of Nessa, tender of these stables.” They noticed a large butterfly clip in her golden hair and many on her dress.

“My lady!” Elladan bowed to her. “We did not know!”

She laughed, and her laugh was beautiful. Míril couldn't help but smile along with her. “Butterfly is a suiting name for you.”

Wilwarindë smiled even wider. “Thank you. You three must be the Lady Míril, and the Lords Elladan and Elrohir. A messenger told me to expect you.”

“May we leave these horses with you then?” Elrohir handed the Maia his lead rope. “For they are not ours, but Lord Oromë's.”

“Of course.” Wilwarindë took the three lead ropes. “Head on inside the Halls. The Lady Vairë is expecting you.”

The three bowed and left the woman to care for the great horses. Míril’s heart was pounding as she walked towards the Door Warden, sweat building up on her brow. This was Mandos! The Halls of Awaiting.

“Halt,” spoke the Noldo. “Who comes here seeking entry?”

“We are Elrohir and Elladan, and Míril Fëanoriel. We come with Lady Nienna's blessing,” Elrohir bowed. “Please, allow us entry.”

“Ah,” the Noldo nodded, looking deep into their eyes. “It is you then. Head inside, but be careful to not step out of line.”

The Door Warden knocked three times on the large stone door. Slowly it heaved itself open, allowing them to enter. They were surprised to find the ceilings immeasurably high. For on the outside it had not seemed this large.

“By Elbereth,” breathed Elrohir, glancing around as he and Míril went forward. “It is enormous!”

Elladan followed them in. Together the three half elves walked forward, the massive hall extending to either side for at least a hundred feet. The entire Hall was made of grey stone, with windows spread throughout. Noldor and Vanyar, wearing the same armor as the Door Warden, stood at attention by each support column. At the very far end of the Hall was a massive gate that had two tall figures, definitely Maiar, guarding it.

As they wandered forward, a woman stood before them. She had on her face a tiny smile, one filled with pain but also joy. Her hair, dark silver, was different from other Teleri. For indeed, she was not of the Sea Elves. She was a Noldo.

“Welcome to the Halls of Mandos,” the woman nodded. “The Lady Vairë is looking forward to meeting you.”

Míril cocked her head. For to her surprise, she found that the woman’s face resembled her own in some ways. Elrohir and Elladan saw it too.

“Who are you, Lady?” Elrohir asked the question they all wanted to know.

The woman flashed the small smile once more, filled with pain and anguish, but also happiness and love. “I am Míriel Serindë, mother of Fëanor.”

Míril looked at the Noldorin woman once more, this time in understanding and curiosity. She understood now the pain on the maiden’s face, the pain she must've felt.

“But come,” Míriel shook her head. “No time for questions. The Lady is waiting for you.”

Míril was still stunned by the news that this was her foremother. She had not known Míriel had been reembodied, but here she was, walking around like she hadn't given up her life willingly, perhaps a catalyst to the downfall of Fëanor.

“Where are we going?” Elladan asked quickly as they went left towards a large gate.

Míriel spoke as she walked. “To the Hall of Weaving. Vairë will be there.”

As they passed under the great gate, Elrohir and Elladan went in front of Míril, staying close to Míriel. But Míril lagged behind, looking at the architecture and tapestries. For the entire Main Hall was decorated by tapestry after tapestry, depicting times before time, and the many ages of Arda. Some she recognized as tapestries of the Third Age, but most were unknown to her.

“Come, Míril. You will have time to explore later,” Míriel smiled a genuine smile at her, taking her hand. “Vairë is waiting.”

Míril nodded and began following again. They entered the next great hall.

“This is the Hall of Weaving. Where you were was the Hall of Stories.” Míriel gestured to the great looms and workspaces around them. “We, the Weavers of Vairë, tend to our work here.”

“What is your work, Lady Míriel?” Elrohir asked this as they passed another Weaver working.

“I weave all the tapestries pertaining to the House of Finwë.” She turned to them fondly. “I have watched you three for many years now.”

They marveled at this answer as the walked under a smaller gateway. As they walked into this new, much smaller room, they found a tall woman dressed in midnight blues and silver trim, her black hair dark as night, yet it glimmered silver in the light as she moved. Her eyes were grey-blue. She smiled at them kindly from where she sat near Maglor and Fingon, who were reclining on a couch.

“Welcome!” Vairë greeted each of them with care and by name, taking their hands in hers. “I am Vairë.”

“Lady Vairë, it is an honor,” Elrohir said as he bowed deeply before the Weaver.

The others followed his example. Elrohir was ever the most diplomatic of their trio. Míril was the least, obviously overcome in amazement, her mouth still open in shock.

Vairë raised them up. “Stand, friends. I do not desire your homage. Others greater than I might, but not me.”

“Lady, why are we here?” Elladan asked. “Is it true that Míril will be allowed to meet the heroes of old?”

“Indeed,” Vairë nodded. “And Maglor has a suggestion for your first visit.”

Maglor stood and walked up to Míril. He put his healthy hands on her shoulders and she saw his eyes fill with unshed tears. He leant down and whispered one word.

“Russandol.”