Disclaimer: This ficlet is not intended to infringe on any intellectual property rights held by the Tolkien Estate or any other license holders of any aspect of the Legendarium in print or other media format. It is written solely for the enjoyment of my readers and myself and not for financial gain.
Resurrection
By Rhyselle
"I don't understand why we were to leave the scars," Estë said, stroking her fingertips over the hair of the occupant of the couch she stood next to. "Re-embodiment has always removed the evidence of injuries from the prior life."
Slightly behind her, his arm around her waist, Irmo's attention was focused on the sleeping Reborn, as he urged the fëa to awaken in the body.
On the other side of the couch, Námo did not remove his amaranthine gaze from the face of the Reborn, but Manwë looked up at the Valië. "Atar wishes it so," he said simply.
All four, as was true of the other Valar who stood behind them, appeared calm and serene. And yet, there was a sense of excitement and awe that underlay the peacefulness of the cottage in the Garden of the Reborn, and infected all in the near vicinity.
The figure on the couch stirred, breathed deeper, and then the eyes opened, to meet the waiting gaze of the suddenly kneeling Valar.
He smiled gently, and raised His hands towards them, and the brilliant light of Anar that streamed through the window of the chamber clearly illuminated the nail-prints in His wrists.