Manwë stumbles

[alatar]

Then Manwë upon the Mountain called upon Iluvatar, and for that time the Valar laid down their government of Arda. But Iluvatar showed forth his power, and he changed the fashion of the world; and a great chasm opened in the sea between Númenor and the Deathless Lands, and the waters flowed down into it, and the noise and smoke of the cataracts went up to heaven, and the world was shaken. And all the fleets of the Númenóreans were drawn down into the abyss, and they were drowned and swallowed up for ever. But Ar-Pharazon the King and the mortal warriors that had set foot upon the land of Aman were buried under falling hills: there it is said that they lie imprisoned in the Caves of the Forgotten, until the Last Battle and the Day of Doom.

But the land of Aman and Eressea of the Eldar were taken away and removed beyond the reach of Men for ever. And Andor, the Land of Gift, Númenor of the Kings, Elenna of the Star of Earendil, was utterly destroyed. For it was nigh to the east of the great rift, and its foundations were overturned, and it fell and went down into darkness, and is no more. And there is not now upon Earth any place abiding where the memory of a time without evil is preserved. For Iluvatar cast back the Great Seas west of Middle-earth, and the Empty Lands east of it, and new lands and new seas were made; and the world was diminished, for Valinor and Eressea were taken from it into the realm of hidden things.

In an hour unlocked for by Men this doom befell, on the nine and thirtieth day since the passing of the fleets. Then suddenly fire burst from the Meneltarma, and there came a mighty wind and a tumult of the earth, and the sky reeled, and the hills slid, and Númenor went down into the sea, with all its children and its wives and its maidens and its ladies proud; and all its gardens and its balls and its towers, its tombs and its riches, and its jewels and its webs and its things painted and carven, and its lore: they vanished for ever.

It had been ages - AGES! - yet Manwë still remembered the day that the Gift was taken back. Númenor...fair Númenor, that land and people that held so much promise, the place where the Second Born of Iluvatar rose to their potential, and yet...

Surely Sauron, that foul champion of every poison that Melkor spewed, had his hand in Númenor's destruction, but he wouldn't have done so much so quickly if Men hadn't been so eager to listen to his lies. The Númenóreans were not blameless, but how deep lay their guilt, and how dark then their punishment? The First Born had shown to be just as foolish, and yet...

Manwë sight could look back to that day. Children, not more than a few years old, struggled to stay above the waters that eventually dragged them down. Flora and fauna, still stainless and innocent, were drowned as surely as those that threw their brothers onto the burning altar. On that day Manwë thought the problem too big, too subtle, too sad, to handle without guidance from Iluvatar, who knew the beginning and the end and all points in between. Manwë asked Eru to help, and so had laid down his authority of Arda, believing that Eru would put things to right, as Eru would be just and caring.

In all of the long days when Manwë and the Valar fought for control of Arda, Manwë had never sought such help as he did that day. Not when Aman was darkened, not when elf slew elf, staining the seas with blood, did he set aside his kingship. When they broke the doors of Angband and cast Morgoth into the Void, Manwë was in charge. The one time he wasn't, and the Land of the Gift, and all that was beautiful and innocent and vile and dark was destroyed. The combatants in their small ships were one thing, but what of those drowned children?

Why did Iluvatar do this?

It was then, the first time since Manwë first sang his first note, that he began to doubt The One...

***

I've always understood why Melkor couldn't be redeemed. It was in his nature, much like Saruman ages later, to continue to gnaw at the small twisted plots though they clearly led to ruin. It's been my observation that, absent some epiphanical life event-explosion, that people continue to act as they do with little variance. What I'm saying that, after a certain age (and it varies for each individual), certain behavioral patterns lock in and people use those as they go through life. A person who is a jerk may continue that lifestyle until the end, though he be friendless and yet wondering why. In other instances you see someone have some huge life event, then completely change. Sometimes this is a good thing; other times, not so much.

So, given that, why is it that we don't ever 'worry' that one day Manwë will wake up (if he ever sleeps) and turn to the dark side? Again, I never wonder about this in regards to Melkor, but the rest of them, I'm not too sure.

And note that I've wondered about this in regards to Abrahamic religions in that if a third of the angels fell with Lucifer (and they had no snake to tempt them), what would stop another third from falling sometime between now and the end of eternity?

How does Tolkien's Manwë stay faithful?