17: Aftermath

Oromë pointed to the unconscious ellyn. "Bring them upstairs," he ordered even as he thought himself to the loft where he found, not only Roimendil, but Námo attempting to calm a distraught Beleg. The ellon was still screaming and fighting both Maia and Vala. Námo looked up as Oromë appeared, his expression grim.

"I’m afraid I was a little hard on him," Námo said without preamble. "He didn’t want to return to his hröa, but I insisted... rather forcibly."

"Then I’ll leave you to him," Oromë said with a shake of his head. "The other five are unconscious... ah.... here we go." He turned as Aldarondur reached the head of the stairs with Sador in his arms. Behind him came Ulcruraitor with Laurendil and then Tirnotaurion with Ingwion. The three Maiar laid the elves on their beds even as Erunáro came with Glorfindel in his arms, while Finrod was being carried by Manveru. Oromë gave Námo a considering look which his brother Vala returned with a shrug.

"Manwë insisted," he said and Oromë snorted at that.

Beleg, meanwhile, had stopped screaming, which was a relief to them all, though Námo’s concerned expression did not go unnoticed by any of them. The ellon was still, almost too still in Oromë’s opinion, though he would be the first to admit he understood only the basic theories concerning re-embodiment, preferring to leave it to Námo and Irmo as the experts. "How is he?" he asked even as he gave a cursory examination to the other five ellyn to assure himself that none of them had suffered unduly, particularly Finrod and Glorfindel. He could already ‘hear’ the rather clinical debate going on between Aulë and Ulmo about the method of transference of the Mirroanwi between dimensions and what that might mean for the future.

"He’s retreated deep within himself," Námo answered with a grimace. "The shock of returning as he did was too much for him and being only recently released from Lórien his fëa is still more fragile than even Glorfindel’s."

"Will he recover?" Oromë asked with a sigh. Beleg was one of his as surely as Findaráto was the Fëanturi’s and Glorfindel was Manwë’s, though the ellon was unaware of that and would probably never be told. It grieved him that one so recently returned to Life would suffer so.

Námo gave his brother Vala an encouraging smile. "In time," he replied. "I think he will do well to be returned to Lórien for a while."

"What about the others?"

Námo stepped away from Beleg’s cot to check on the other ellyn. "Laurendil and Ingwion should recover well enough; Sador, too, though I will have some of my people keep an eye on him for a while. They’ll know what to look for if he begins to exhibit any symptoms similar to what Glorfindel was suffering every time he tried to escape his hröa."

Oromë nodded, casting a worried glance at his other protegé. Námo gave him another smile. "He’ll be fine, Oromë. Sador is stronger than most realize or give him credit for. Do not concern yourself unduly on his account."

The Lord of Forests gave the Lord of Mandos a fierce scowl. "But I do concern myself. I’ve waited too long...."

"Peace, brother," Námo said, taking Oromë into his embrace to offer him comfort. "I assure you Sador will be well, as will Beleg."

"What about Findaráto and Glorfindel, lord?" Manveru asked in the brief silence that followed.

Námo turned his attention to the Maiar, all of them exhibiting expressions of concern. He noticed with amusement that they all were hovering over their charges like a mother hen with a single chick. Ulcuraitor was even sitting on the edge of the bed where Laurendil lay, stroking the ellon’s locks as gently as any parent with their child.

"We’ll need to keep an extra eye on those two," he said with a wry grin. "Frankly, I’m surprised Manwë didn’t call out half of his People to stand guard."

Erunáro snorted with humor at the Vala’s words even as he pulled a coverlet over Glorfindel’s supine form, tenderly brushing the ellon’s hair out of his face. "Only because Lady Varda convinced him that even if all of them went unclothed it would still make for crowded conditions."

The other Maiar snickered at that and the two Valar exchanged amused looks. "So instead he sent you two," Oromë stated.

Manveru gave the Vala a nod. "We practically had to fight Eönwë and Fionwë for the honor, but Lord Manwë has sent his Herald to the Kings with the news and Fionwë is even now advising Lord Irmo to expect more charges soon and to arrange for suitable transport and escort."

Námo nodded. "I think that is a good idea. The sooner these Children are under my brother’s care the sooner they will recover. As it is, I need to address the situation with Lindorillë. She’s fading or trying to."

Oromë nodded his understanding, then gave the younger Vala a wicked grin. "And I understand you lost a bet with your sister. How’s that working out for you?"

Námo merely smirked. "So far I’ve managed to get Vorondil and Aldundil into so much trouble with my little... er... suggestions, they’ll be working out their punishments until the day after the Ending of Arda."

Oromë laughed outright and the Maiar listening smiled. "And I cannot think of a better person to keep those two occupied."

"Nienna says I have a gift for getting into trouble," Námo said with a straight face.

"Oh, tell me about it!" Oromë exclaimed with mock exasperation. "You were worse than a fifteen-year-old elfling. Do you know how many times I was tempted to just throw you into one of Varda’s Black Holes and be done with you?"

Námo gave Oromë a teasing smile. "Come now, admit it. You enjoyed chasing me all around Eä."

"Only because no one else could be bothered," Oromë rejoined with his own smile.

The two Valar exchanged meaningful looks, each knowing the worth of the other. Námo finally turned to Roimendil, his expression more grave. "Beleg is the most vulnerable of them all so you must be vigilant. He may attempt to flee his hröa when he first awakens."

"I do wish we understood the whys and wherefores of that," Oromë interrupted with a sigh. "It’s most inconvenient."

"In more ways than one," Námo said, nodding in agreement. "I will leave you now. Call if you need help."

Oromë nodded as Námo faded away. The Lord of the Hunt turned to the Maiar. "Let’s make our charges more comfortable. Leave the pendant on Glorfindel though." The Maiar nodded and silently they went about the business of divesting the ellyn of their clothes and slipping nightshirts over them before tucking them into their beds. None of the elves so much as stirred.

****

Laurendil was the first to arouse several hours later. He opened his eyes blearily, giving a small moan as the light of the afternoon sun blinded him.

"Easy now," came a soft voice. A cool cloth was placed over his eyes and he sighed in relief.

"What happened?" he managed to whisper, appalled at how weak he sounded to himself.

"Fear not! All is well." He now recognized the voice as belonging to Ulcuraitor. "Findaráto and Glorfindel are returned to us."

Laurendil struggled to sit up. "They’re here? Let me see." He pushed away the cloth covering his eyes, wincing slightly as his eyes adjusted to the light. The Maia had to steady him as he tried to rise. He staggered over to where Finrod and Glorfindel were lying, nearly falling on his face in his weakness as he attempted to lean over and touch them both to assure himself that they were truly there.

"Are they all right?" he asked.

"Yes, they are," Ulcuraitor replied, gently steering the elf back to his own bed. "They are sleeping. You’re the first to stir. Are you hungry? We have made some broth for everyone for when they wake up."

Laurendil nodded and closed his eyes as he lay back down upon his bed, giving a sigh of relief. He was suddenly exhausted and felt himself drifting. Seconds or hours later, he was never sure, Ulcuraitor woke him and helped him to sit up so he could sip on the beef broth. It tasted wonderful but he barely finished the bowl before he was falling asleep again. Ulcuraitor had just enough warning to grab the bowl out of Laurendil’s hands before he dropped it.

Ingwion was the next to awaken about an hour later. He bolted upright and then proceeded to become violently ill before any of the Maiar had time to react. There was a great deal of ‘tsking’ among them even as they helped Tirnotaurion clean him up. Ingwion merely sat there weeping in frustration and shame, but finally he was washed and dressed in a clean nightshirt and put into one of the spare beds while the Maiar dealt with the mess. Tirnotaurion kept up a soothing monologue assuring the ellon that all was well until Ingwion’s tears abated and he fell back into a fitful doze that deepened into true sleep as the Maiar sang a lullaby.

Sador did not awaken until early evening. By then Laurendil was awake again and enjoying a more substantial meal, feeling refreshed and alert. Forewarned by Ingwion’s actions, Aldarondur was immediately beside Sador with a basin just in case. Sador, however, merely moaned and rolled onto his side, clutching his head.

"Valar! What hit me?" he whimpered into his pillow.

There were soft chuckles of amusement among the Maiar and even Laurendil was able to scare up a smile. "Not what, mellon nîn, who," he said with a chuckle, "or rather two whos."

Sador cracked open an eyelid and glared at Laurendil who was actually three beds away. "What are you talking about you stupid Noldo?"

For an answer Laurendil merely pointed beyond Sador, his smile widening. The younger ellon sighed and slowly rolled over to see what Laurendil had been pointing at and nearly fell out of bed in his haste to reach his gwedyr. "Finrod! Glorfindel!"

"Easy now, child," Aldarondur admonished him as he grabbed the ellon to prevent him from falling flat on his face. "Your brothers are well. They merely sleep. Come. We have some broth for you if you are hungry."

Sador nodded, glancing at Laurendil and frowning. "Why do I get broth and he doesn’t?"

Laurendil sniffed. "Because they like me more than you."

The Maiar all laughed gaily at that and Aldarondur shook his head. "This is Laurendil’s second meal since waking," he told Sador. "Finish the broth and if you are able to keep it down, you may have something more substantial."

Sador sighed but otherwise did not protest. Soon he was sipping on the meaty broth with relish, only just realizing how famished he was. Before long though, he was fighting to stay awake. Aldarondur assured him that sleep was the best thing for him and soon he was drifting off, grumbling about Laurendil getting to stay up later as he did, much to the Maiar’s amusement. Laurendil just looked smug, though he was falling asleep himself before too many minutes went by. Soon, only the Maiar were awake.

"Well that’s three down, three to go," Roimendil said to no one in particular. The others nodded and then started laying bets as to who would wake next and under what conditions.

****

As it was, Ingwion woke again sometime after midnight. This time he did not bolt upright but allowed Tirnotaurion to help him sit up. "How are you feeling, my prince?" the Maia asked solicitously.

"Better, I think," Ingwion replied somewhat faintly leaning against the pillows propping him up.

Tirnotaurion nodded. "I have some broth if you think you can handle it."

Ingwion started to deny any wish to eat but his stomach chose then to give a loud rumble, much to his embarrassment. Tirnotaurion smiled knowingly as the elf blushed, nodding in acquiesence. Like Laurendil and Sador he sipped the soup with relish and then started falling asleep again. "But I just woke up!" he protested around a huge yawn.

"Both your hröa and fëa suffered shocks," Roimendil said as he helped Tirnotaurion tuck the elf back into bed. "Sleep is the best cure for you. Sleep and be refreshed. Tomorrow we will take you to Lórien where you may find full healing for your wounds."

"I was wounded?" Ingwion asked in confusion, trying to see if any bandages covered his body.

"In fëa only, but sometimes such are worse wounds than those that might assail the hröa. Take comfort. All will be well. Sleep now... sleep."

In spite of his attempts to remain awake, Ingwion was fast asleep in minutes. The Maiar stared at the other three elves who had yet to awaken, concern written on their fair visages, for none of these three had so much as stirred all this time. Only the fact that they could see the ellyn breathing told them that these three were still among the living.

****

Dawn found only Laurendil and Sador awake, both of them feeling strong enough to leave their beds and get properly dressed, though the Maiar refused to let them leave the lodge. Ingwion stirred about an hour later but was content to remain in his bed, eating the light breakfast offered him. At about the same time, Glorfindel uttered a sigh and without waking curled into a ball. The Maiar all rejoiced to see it. Towards noon, Oromë returned along with Irmo and Námo to see how they were all doing. By then, both Ingwion and Sador were asleep again, though the latter refused to get undressed. Laurendil was quietly reading a book downstairs, sitting beside the fire and sipping on herbal tea.

"Glorfindel stirred some hours ago but did not awaken," Manveru reported to the Valar. "Neither Findaráto nor Beleg have so much as twitched. We’re all rather worried about them."

Irmo nodded, giving the three unconscious ellyn an examination. Oromë was checking on Sador while Námo checked his own apprentice. "Well, Glorfindel is definitely in healing sleep," Irmo said to them, "but Findaráto and Beleg...." He shook his head and glanced at Námo. "You might wish to take a look at this."

"What is it?" Námo asked as he stepped over to stand beside Irmo.

Irmo didn’t answer, merely drew Námo’s attention to the two ellyn, silently bidding him to examine them not with his eyes but with his mind. *Do you see what I think I’m seeing?*

Námo’s only reaction was to raise an eyebrow. *Their fëar are.... entwined,* he said disbelievingly.

Irmo nodded. *So it would seem*.

By now Oromë had joined them. *What does that mean?* he asked in puzzlement.

Námo sighed. *The oldest Reborn and the youngest,* he replied, as if that was all the explanation needed.

*This just gets better and better,* Irmo retorted with a mirthless grin.

Námo gave his younger brother a sour look. *Obviously. Meanwhile, are you going to help me untangle them, or are you going to stand there mouthing aphorisms all day?*

Irmo and Oromë gave Námo amused looks. "What happened, brother?" Irmo asked out loud in a teasing manner. "Did Nienna catch you with your hand in the cookie jar again?"

Námo looked away, a slow blush creeping across his visage. "Something like that," he said with a sigh. "I think I’m losing my touch."

The other two Valar chuckled at that, sure that they would get the full story out of either Námo or Nienna eventually. Their Maiar attendants were very careful to keep their expressions neutral though the brightening of their eyes gave them away.

"Here or in Lórien?" Irmo asked.

"Best do it here," Námo replied. "I don’t want to lose any time. The longer their fëar remain entwined the harder it will be to separate them and the more damage to their spirits when we do."

The other two Valar nodded. Irmo sent silent orders to the Maiar and soon they were taking Glorfindel, Sador and Ingwion downstairs along with their beds. Laurendil looked up from his book in concern when he saw the Maiar bring his friends down from the loft even though they were still sleeping, but when Ulcuraitor assured him that Lord Irmo had so ordered it, he relaxed, though he was still worried about Findaráto and Beleg. "Why aren’t they being moved down here as well?" he asked the Maiar.

"Findaráto and Beleg are the only ones who have not stirred since yesterday," Tirnotaurion explained gently. "Even Glorfindel has begun to move a bit in his sleep. Lords Irmo, Námo and Oromë are trying to see if they can bring Findaráto and Beleg out of their comas. For that, though, they will need all their concentration, for it is a delicate operation. If Glorfindel, for instance, were to suddenly awaken...."

Laurendil nodded, understanding. "Will Findaráto and Beleg be all right?" he asked unable to hide his concern.

"I will not lie to you, Laurendil," Tirnotaurion said gravely. "What my lords are attempting to do can be dangerous, not only for Findaráto and Beleg, but for the Valar as well. It is important that they are not disturbed in any way."

"Well, in that case, you better move Glorfindel as far from here as possible, because when he does awaken, all of Arda will hear about it."

The Maiar all grinned, knowing full well what Laurendil meant. "Perhaps we could just move him out to the trees," Manveru offered jokingly.

"Actually, that’s not a bad idea," Laurendil said with sudden seriousness. "I wouldn’t mind getting some fresh air myself. Now that the rain has cleared, it should be dry enough to bring them outside."

A silent consultation among the Maiar that lasted but a split second was followed by nods all around. "We’ll take the beds as well and place them in the courtyard where the ground is drier," Manveru said and soon they were moving the still sleeping ellyn outside. Laurendil followed with Ulcuraitor bringing a chair along for him to sit in. Outside he found that a pavilion had been set up to provide them with shade. Three sides were open but the western wall of the pavilion was down to block the wind coming from that direction.

"This is more like it," Laurendil said with a contented sigh as he sank into his chair while Tirnotaurion tucked a light blanket around him. Ten minutes later, he, too, was fast asleep.

****

Námo and Irmo made a quick consultation while Oromë looked on, willing to lend his support if not his knowledge about what must be done.

*It’s not too dissimilar to what my People have to do whenever the fëar in Mandos end up in a pile,* Námo told them, *but these two have somehow entwined their fëar far more closely than usual. I do not understand why.*

*You said something about the oldest Reborn and the youngest,* Oromë said.

Námo nodded. *Of the four Reborn in the group, Beleg is the youngest in terms of re-embodiment, while Findaráto is the oldest. I can only surmise that in the wake of the trauma Beleg suffered when he was returned to his hröa he instinctively sought help from another and Findaráto, being the eldest and most stable must have offered his support.*

*But he was unconscious,* Oromë pointed out.

*Yes, so it must have been on an unconscious, instinctive level,* supplied Námo. *I have often remarked how the fëar of the Reborn seem to exist on a slightly different plane of existence than their fellow elves who have never died. I think we are seeing one... consequence of that difference.*

The other two Valar nodded. *So what do we do?* Irmo asked.

*Just follow my instructions,* his older brother said. *This may take a while.* With that, the Lord of Mandos began the slow and tedious process of untangling two fëar who should never have been entwined while his two brethren looked on, giving him any aid required.

Outside, under a pavilion of purest sendal, four ellyn slept, only one of whom was aware of what was transpiring in the lodge, and that only vaguely. The six Maiar ringed them, keeping silent vigil and wondering how successful their masters would be in separating Beleg’s fëa from Findaráto’s.

****

Mirroanwi: (Quenya) Plural of Mirroanwë: Incarnate, i.e. Elves and Mortals.