"Mairon."

Námo's gentle voice prompted Mairon to open his eyes and look up from where he was curled up on his stomach, underneath the thick blankets of his bed at Nienna's. He followed the Vala with his eyes, but otherwise didn't move as Námo came to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to slowly stroke his hair.

"Are you alright, little one?" Námo asked quietly.

"Not really," Mairon admitted, just as softly. Námo sighed. He had known it was very likely for the little Maia's intense spiritual damage to manifest itself in an all encompassing greyness, but there was still something heartbreaking about the child curled miserably under his blankets.

"I'm sorry, little one," Námo murmured. "I wish I could take away all your pain in an instant, but I cannot."

"At least you care," Mairon said, trying to smile, which quickly turned bitter. "I'm sure almost anyone else would just think it was simply what I deserved."

"No one deserves to endure what you did, little one," Námo murmured. "No one."

"I just—it hurts and hurts until I c-can't take it anymore, and I go numb, and that's even worse…"

"Oh Mairon," Námo murmured, pulling the Maia up and into his embrace. Mairon buried his head in the Vala's chest.

"Will the pain ever stop?" he asked, plaintively and quietly.

"Yes, little one, it will," Námo assured him. "It faded the first time, did it not?"

"Yes, it did, thanks to Beren and Lúthien," Mairon admitted. "But I suppose it's like a broken bone that didn't heal right; it had to be broken open again to heal properly."

"You managed to heal surprisingly well, Mairon, but you were not in an environment conducive to healing," Námo said. "Make no mistake, you have already shown your incredible strength. Most who were treated like you were now do nothing more than dream endlessly, and most of those who escaped that fate are now eternally children. You have already healed better than would have been expected. And you will heal even better now. You will see. Someday, you will feel whole again."

"Promise?" Mairon whispered. Námo gently kissed his hair.

"Yes, little one. I promise."