This is a complete and total rewrite of Out of Mandos, since I found the other one lacking, and refreshed my memory after reading Silm again, thus I created this one. The old version is still on the site for now, and will remain so for a little while. I want your opinions, should I continue the old version, or this? As soon as I decide, with the gracious help of you excellent readers, I shall either take one or the other down. Thanks. :)
Out of Mandos; The Vow Restored
Glorfindel's POV
Mandos echoes with the sounds of the spirits passing through its ever-long halls. Many call out for to Nienna for strength, and some call out to Namo for mercy. My companion and I however, are silent in our thoughts, and move not from where our ethereal forms stand. We can feel a change within the halls, we can feel it in the core of our beings, and we know that change is coming for us.
My companion finally turns to me, his ever patient blue eyes sparkling with hope, for he and a few others have held on to such hope of being released from our memories, from our prison, to walk again among the living, and those that survived us. I, however, would have long since surrendered hope, had the memory of the vision the Valar had sent me ere I died not plague me constantly. The hazy vision of a child with raven hair, and stormy gray eyes has been with me since I fell with the Balrog, and torments me constantly.
'Glorfindel, do you not hear that?' he asks softly, his voice echoing in my mind, for we had no voices as we are of the dead.
I hear the clear sound of footsteps within the halls, footsteps that we both know well. Namo has come, and I can feel our time is at hand.
"I do, Ecthelion," I whisper, and we wait.
He comes upon us, and the halls seem to fade in his presence. Eyes as black as the night without stars looked upon us, and I suppress a shudder at the weight of knowledge that they seem to place upon me. Another flash of the child, tall and strong, filters through my mind's eye, and I wondered if he is connected to the Lord of Mandos's approach.
"I have wish to speak with both of you," Namo says.
"Speak, hir nin," Ecthelion speaks up, sensing my own unwillingness.
Namo nods, and the halls fade entirely, leaving us within an endless space of gray.
"Do you remember your deaths?" he asks quietly, and I shudder once more as Ecthelion nods.
My companion only remembers his death, and he remembers it being more pleasant then how I felt it as. I felt his death, saw his pale form fall into the King's fountain with the Balrog upon him. I remember the waters turning red with their blood. I remember the emptiness that had come when his soul fled to Mandos. And of my own death, I can still distantly feel the flames melting the flesh from me, ripping my soul from my body... Namo's voice snaps me from my thoughts.
"Those who you gave your lives for have lived on to bare children, and of those the fate of Arda now rests upon," Namo says softly.
Another flash, the child older, stronger, wiser, a light shining from his soul. A brief smile, seemingly directed to me, gray eyes shimmering as if holding a secret. Again being ripped away by Namo's voice.
"I'm sure you have both felt your duty incomplete, especially you, Glorfindel," Namo says, turning knowing eyes to me.
I nod again, unable to say anything, my mind still lingering with that last image.
"So we of the Valar have decided to give you a chance to return, but the choice does not linger with you," Namo continues.
Yet again my mind is pulled away, crossing off to find the child again, fully grown, an adult now, with someone who looks identical to he who I am drawn to. I can tell who is the one I have had visions of though, for in his eyes shimmer the birth of true wisdom, and the sorrow of the Elder is within his face, while the other is still bright with life, like of the second born, men, though wisdom is also beginning in his eyes.
"The children," I mummer, pulling myself from my thoughts.
Ecthelion looks at me knowingly, for he too has seen the child, or should it be children? I do not know, but I feel our fates are bond to theirs.
"Yes, the children will decide your fates," Namo said softly, and raised his hand.
The air shimmered above his hand, folding and condensing into an image of two young Elves, just into their adulthood, standing together in front of an Elven king, weathered by time and pain, yet strong and hail temperament was in his fair face.
"They choose this night what their fates will be. Either they will choose to live on as Elder or die as men. And with their choice, your fates will be sealed," Namo said, then was silently as one of the dark haired Elves spoke, and I knew it was not mine, though my heart clenched with echoed pain as his words came forth.
"I have thought long on this, King Gil-galad, far longer then ever I intended. It will pain me, far more then I shall ever know, for I shall be separated from all that I know, and love," he glances briefly at his twin, then finished in a near whisper, "Yet, I choose to be of the Edain, and die as such, for I wish to know what is beyond the circle of the world, and the Edain need guidance, which none of the Elder race can offer."
The King, who I now knew as Fingon's son, nodded, a slight grieved look upon his face, "As expected, Elros. May you be satisfied with your choice," Gil-galad said softly, then turned to the other, my Elfling, or should I say Elf?, "What of your choice, Elrond?"
He pauses, though he is not uncertain, I can feel his decision in my soul, and I know not whether to cry or rejoice.
"Though my heart yearns to follow my brother onwards, I fear I will not travel his path, for my own lies upon a different road," Elrond says, and takes a deep breath, "I choose to be counted among the Elves, for I feel that there will be need for me before the end."
Then the vision goes dark, and disappears. Glancing at Ecthelion, I see there are tears in his delicate blue eyes, and my heart weeps for him, though I know not why, until Namo speaks up, his voice grave and heavy with knowledge.
"And so it is, and so your fates are sealed, for once they will be separated, until the time at hand," he says, and the pain in my heart grows with each word, "As Elros has chosen mortality, Ecthelion is to remain in the halls until his death, for Elros will have no need of his guardian. But you, Glorfindel," he centers his gaze on me, "You shall journey forth back into Arda, and shall take your place at your charges side, to defend and protect his soul from the evils to come, for fate will not be kind to him. He has chosen this for you, yet you must decide if you will follow through."
I nod, my heart trembling in grief in pain. I turn to Ecthelion, my soul brother, my charge and true friend in our lives past. We have never truly been apart, yet Namo asks me to choose to separate from him. Could I truly do it?
Ecthelion sees the battle within me through his tears, and smiles wanly as he lays a hand on my heart, "Though we will be separate for a while, our hearts and souls will forever be connected. Have no fear, dear friend, for you shall see me again."
I place a hand upon his, knowing his words are true, but it does not ease the pain, "I know, yet my heart grieves."
"As does mine, and that is only what is to be expected. Would we not grieve and be considered of the true dead in soul? Nay, we are alive in our true forms, and we do grieve, but only for a little while, for even an age or two is not so long between us," Ecthelion says, and I nod, my heart resigned to what I must do, I cannot leave the child to his dark fate, thus I must separate from my brother. It is a sacrifice that I must give, and it is a pain I must bear.
Turning to Namo, I nod again, this time in consent, for my throat is too tight to give out the words.
"So be it. Return to life, Glorfindel of old, and remember within the depths of your soul, when all else has been washed away in your rebirth, your destiny is entwined with Idril's grandson's, and even your vow binds you ever to his side," Namo says, then raises his hand.
A pain unlike any I have ever felt grows within me, becoming a maddening fire with in moments. Flinching from even Ecthelion's touch, I fall to my knees as darkness descends upon my mind. Images run through my mind, too fast to even grasp as they fly through me like water in a raging river. I do not scream, for the pain is too great for even that. Then a swift and brutal pain comes to my suffering soul, like if something dear was being torn from me, and just before I lose all sight and mind, I see Ecthelion's dear blue eyes, streaming tears of pain for me, and for him. Then all is black.
Out of Mandos; The Vow Restored
Glorfindel's POV
Mandos echoes with the sounds of the spirits passing through its ever-long halls. Many call out for to Nienna for strength, and some call out to Namo for mercy. My companion and I however, are silent in our thoughts, and move not from where our ethereal forms stand. We can feel a change within the halls, we can feel it in the core of our beings, and we know that change is coming for us.
My companion finally turns to me, his ever patient blue eyes sparkling with hope, for he and a few others have held on to such hope of being released from our memories, from our prison, to walk again among the living, and those that survived us. I, however, would have long since surrendered hope, had the memory of the vision the Valar had sent me ere I died not plague me constantly. The hazy vision of a child with raven hair, and stormy gray eyes has been with me since I fell with the Balrog, and torments me constantly.
'Glorfindel, do you not hear that?' he asks softly, his voice echoing in my mind, for we had no voices as we are of the dead.
I hear the clear sound of footsteps within the halls, footsteps that we both know well. Namo has come, and I can feel our time is at hand.
"I do, Ecthelion," I whisper, and we wait.
He comes upon us, and the halls seem to fade in his presence. Eyes as black as the night without stars looked upon us, and I suppress a shudder at the weight of knowledge that they seem to place upon me. Another flash of the child, tall and strong, filters through my mind's eye, and I wondered if he is connected to the Lord of Mandos's approach.
"I have wish to speak with both of you," Namo says.
"Speak, hir nin," Ecthelion speaks up, sensing my own unwillingness.
Namo nods, and the halls fade entirely, leaving us within an endless space of gray.
"Do you remember your deaths?" he asks quietly, and I shudder once more as Ecthelion nods.
My companion only remembers his death, and he remembers it being more pleasant then how I felt it as. I felt his death, saw his pale form fall into the King's fountain with the Balrog upon him. I remember the waters turning red with their blood. I remember the emptiness that had come when his soul fled to Mandos. And of my own death, I can still distantly feel the flames melting the flesh from me, ripping my soul from my body... Namo's voice snaps me from my thoughts.
"Those who you gave your lives for have lived on to bare children, and of those the fate of Arda now rests upon," Namo says softly.
Another flash, the child older, stronger, wiser, a light shining from his soul. A brief smile, seemingly directed to me, gray eyes shimmering as if holding a secret. Again being ripped away by Namo's voice.
"I'm sure you have both felt your duty incomplete, especially you, Glorfindel," Namo says, turning knowing eyes to me.
I nod again, unable to say anything, my mind still lingering with that last image.
"So we of the Valar have decided to give you a chance to return, but the choice does not linger with you," Namo continues.
Yet again my mind is pulled away, crossing off to find the child again, fully grown, an adult now, with someone who looks identical to he who I am drawn to. I can tell who is the one I have had visions of though, for in his eyes shimmer the birth of true wisdom, and the sorrow of the Elder is within his face, while the other is still bright with life, like of the second born, men, though wisdom is also beginning in his eyes.
"The children," I mummer, pulling myself from my thoughts.
Ecthelion looks at me knowingly, for he too has seen the child, or should it be children? I do not know, but I feel our fates are bond to theirs.
"Yes, the children will decide your fates," Namo said softly, and raised his hand.
The air shimmered above his hand, folding and condensing into an image of two young Elves, just into their adulthood, standing together in front of an Elven king, weathered by time and pain, yet strong and hail temperament was in his fair face.
"They choose this night what their fates will be. Either they will choose to live on as Elder or die as men. And with their choice, your fates will be sealed," Namo said, then was silently as one of the dark haired Elves spoke, and I knew it was not mine, though my heart clenched with echoed pain as his words came forth.
"I have thought long on this, King Gil-galad, far longer then ever I intended. It will pain me, far more then I shall ever know, for I shall be separated from all that I know, and love," he glances briefly at his twin, then finished in a near whisper, "Yet, I choose to be of the Edain, and die as such, for I wish to know what is beyond the circle of the world, and the Edain need guidance, which none of the Elder race can offer."
The King, who I now knew as Fingon's son, nodded, a slight grieved look upon his face, "As expected, Elros. May you be satisfied with your choice," Gil-galad said softly, then turned to the other, my Elfling, or should I say Elf?, "What of your choice, Elrond?"
He pauses, though he is not uncertain, I can feel his decision in my soul, and I know not whether to cry or rejoice.
"Though my heart yearns to follow my brother onwards, I fear I will not travel his path, for my own lies upon a different road," Elrond says, and takes a deep breath, "I choose to be counted among the Elves, for I feel that there will be need for me before the end."
Then the vision goes dark, and disappears. Glancing at Ecthelion, I see there are tears in his delicate blue eyes, and my heart weeps for him, though I know not why, until Namo speaks up, his voice grave and heavy with knowledge.
"And so it is, and so your fates are sealed, for once they will be separated, until the time at hand," he says, and the pain in my heart grows with each word, "As Elros has chosen mortality, Ecthelion is to remain in the halls until his death, for Elros will have no need of his guardian. But you, Glorfindel," he centers his gaze on me, "You shall journey forth back into Arda, and shall take your place at your charges side, to defend and protect his soul from the evils to come, for fate will not be kind to him. He has chosen this for you, yet you must decide if you will follow through."
I nod, my heart trembling in grief in pain. I turn to Ecthelion, my soul brother, my charge and true friend in our lives past. We have never truly been apart, yet Namo asks me to choose to separate from him. Could I truly do it?
Ecthelion sees the battle within me through his tears, and smiles wanly as he lays a hand on my heart, "Though we will be separate for a while, our hearts and souls will forever be connected. Have no fear, dear friend, for you shall see me again."
I place a hand upon his, knowing his words are true, but it does not ease the pain, "I know, yet my heart grieves."
"As does mine, and that is only what is to be expected. Would we not grieve and be considered of the true dead in soul? Nay, we are alive in our true forms, and we do grieve, but only for a little while, for even an age or two is not so long between us," Ecthelion says, and I nod, my heart resigned to what I must do, I cannot leave the child to his dark fate, thus I must separate from my brother. It is a sacrifice that I must give, and it is a pain I must bear.
Turning to Namo, I nod again, this time in consent, for my throat is too tight to give out the words.
"So be it. Return to life, Glorfindel of old, and remember within the depths of your soul, when all else has been washed away in your rebirth, your destiny is entwined with Idril's grandson's, and even your vow binds you ever to his side," Namo says, then raises his hand.
A pain unlike any I have ever felt grows within me, becoming a maddening fire with in moments. Flinching from even Ecthelion's touch, I fall to my knees as darkness descends upon my mind. Images run through my mind, too fast to even grasp as they fly through me like water in a raging river. I do not scream, for the pain is too great for even that. Then a swift and brutal pain comes to my suffering soul, like if something dear was being torn from me, and just before I lose all sight and mind, I see Ecthelion's dear blue eyes, streaming tears of pain for me, and for him. Then all is black.