The Secret Councils of the Valar


Disclaimer: If I owned LOTR, would I be writing this? :o)

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There are things the Valar made. There are things the Valar destroyed. But what about the things the Valar kept from us?....

[Council Meeting]

The males and females of the Valar were summoned to a council held by Manwë and his spouse, Varda.

"It's one minute until the council's supposed to start and not ONE of them has arrived!" Manwë fumed, absentmindedly smoothing his robes every now and then. Wrinkles would never do.

"Relax, they'll be here..." Varda patted his arm reassuringly.

"Well, they have 30 seconds now. 30....29.....28...." Suddenly, a stampede of gods hastily, er, stampeded over and each one quickly took their respectful places in their chairs.

"3.....2....1. What is up with you?!" Manwë screamed.

"We're punctual! We don't have to be early. We're gods. We're special," Aulë said, waving his hammer around for emphasis. Those who were seated near him leaned away. "Oh oops. Forgot not to bring this along. I do this every time...."

"What are we here for? It'd better be important! I didn't get out of the Sea for nothing. I'm WET," Ulmo's dark robes were sopping wet and dripping, and his boots squelched on the shiny floor. Varda's left eye began to twitch. She only spent, what, three or four hours waxing the floor last night?

"I can see that. Anyone got a hair dryer?" Manwë sighed.

"Oh yes, I carry one in my pocket all the time," Mandos said drily.

"Do you really?" Manwë looked intrigued.



"Why don't you just blow him dry yourself. You ARE Lord of the Winds, aren't you?" Of course, Mandos had to point out the blatantly obvious. The rest of the Valar sat pensively, took in that remark, and nodded their heads while "Ahh"-ing.

"Ohh, good point," Manwë nodded and proceeded to bombard Ulmo with wind. Lots of wind.

"Can we FOCUS on the real point of this council?!" Varda yelled over the wind. The winds subsided as Manwë lowered his almighty wind-controlling hands thoughtfully.

"The refreshment afterwards?" Lorien piped up after stifling a yawn. Estë thwapped him on the head.

"NO!" Varda hissed. "Manwë, you called for this council. Tell them the purpose of being here."

"Ahem. Well, so I did. The purpose of this council is..." Manwë disappeared behind his gold, high-backed chair, then reappeared, "....should I wear midnight blue? Or cerulean?" He held up two identical-looking robes (just with different shades of blue) and flashed a smile. Silence filled the air. Crickets chirped. "Ahaha! I'm just kidding." Manwë threw the robes behind him and waited for the laughter to begin. The non-existent laughter.

"Your humor is a danger to my well-being," Mandos finally spoke up. Manwë looked confused. Mandos sighed. "You're not funny." Manwë looked dejected.

"Fine. Don't love me...."

"The REAL purpose of being here is....?" Yavanna drummed her fingers in boredom on her armrest.

"To talk about.....Sauron!" Manwë whispered dramatically.

"Didn't we decide during the last council that we'd just leave him to the hands of a cute, blue-eyed hobbit? And we would play no important role whatsoever?" Vána spoke up from the back row.

"So we did..." Manwë said thoughtfully.

"Except for me," Varda raised her index finger. "The Fellowship will pray to me a lot and sing about me."

"Oh, good plan!" and "Very clever. We'll look godly at your expense!" came from all sides.

"I....guess we're done then?" Manwë said to nobody in particular. His councils never failed to displease the gods. ONE good, efficient council. That's all he was asking for! ONE! The gods sighed in relief and began to walk out. "No. Wait! Get back in your chairs!" The gods froze in their steps and cringed. No! An early departure from an awful council. That's all they were asking for!

"We're not done yet," Varda said, to make herself look important.

"What now? I have weaving to do. A lot of it. I MADE your favorite Christmas cloak. I should be excused," Vairë said bitterly.

"....what cloak?" Manwë blinked.

"The black one..."

"Oh! You mean the dark, gloomy, depressing one?"

"Yeah, that'd be it."

"Oh, erm, of course it's my....favorite. Okay, moving on. While we're here and ended our discussion early-"

"That was a discussion?" Ulmo was still wringing out the remaining water on his robes. Now Varda's right eye began twitching.

"-SO we might as well go over the monthly figures...You know, the number of prayers we got, the amount of good godly responses, percentage of dissatisfaction..." Manwë began thumbing through a huge pile of papers that was sitting on the table next to his chair.

"I thought we were GODS," Oromë eyed the paperwork with distaste.

"But we are..." Manwë gestured to everyone.

"Isn't it our duty to just rule the world?"

"We are!"

"No one ever told me ruling the world involved math...." Oromë pouted.

"We know you failed algebra.....but! you don't have to do any hard math. You can it with us! Er, yes...." Manwë was now considering how much work it would take to go through all the papers properly.

"That 'er' was suspicious-sounding..." Oromë narrowed his eyes.

"Um, no it wasn't!"

"Yes, it was." came from everyone else's mouth.

"I suck at lying," Manwë let out a deep sigh.

"That's okay, honey. To make up for it, you can clean the floor this time," Varda patted his back.

"What? That didn't make sense," Manwë looked at her twitching eyes in confusion.

"Yes, it did." came from everyone else's mouth. Manwë glared at them.

"So, about the paperwork-"

"Oh! I hear the lunch bell. Lunch!" Nessa sprang out of her seat, a crowd of gods following her example.

"What bell? I didn't hear a..." Everyone was gone. "....bell. I hate being me," Manwë thumped his head on the table.

"Nienna?" Varda stared at the goddess who surprisingly stayed. Nienna was standing at the doorway and weeping. A lot. But that was normal. "What's wrong now?"

"The floor. It used to be so pretty. I'm so sorry!" Nienna sobbed and strode out.

"She has major issues," Varda now twitched at the puddle of tears on her precious floor.

"And everyone wonder's why she's single...." Manwë muttered.

Well, what do you think? Shall I write more?

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