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Supernova 16.4
My eyelids slowly fluttered open. I was staring up into a pristine blue sky. White cotton clouds drifted slowly along on the wind high above. I could hear the rush of gentle waves against the shore just a couple dozen meters from me. I was lying flat on my back against soft silt.
The One Ring remained on my finger. I could feel, distantly, the minds of the other Ring-Bearers. They were remote and indistinct, like I was barely perceiving them through hundreds of fathoms of water, but I could still feel them.
All but one.
Tears slowly slipped out of the corners of my eyes, sliding down my temples to become lost in my hair. The blue sky blurred above me.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, then sat up. Sand streamed down my back. My eyes drifted across the white sand, the calm waves against the shore, to my right, the green hills to my left.
Once I would have given anything to return to this place. Now I would give anything not to have come, to still be living in the world of yesterday—if only I had anything left to give.
I slowly picked myself up. White sand poured out of the joints of my armor as I stood. I looked out for a moment at the easterly shore before I turned into the West, gazing past the line where white shores gave way to green downs. Far away in the distance, white and silver towers rose interspersed with great mallorn trees.
I took a deep breath. It came out in a choked half sob. I forced myself to pick up one leg and set it in front of the other. I took one step, then more. With each it felt like I was walking away from Sophia, as I began the long, slow walk towards Tirion.
It had been uncountable thousands of years since last I had been here, but I remembered the geography as though it had been carved into my brain. I was in Eldamar, walking away from the great bay towards Calacirya and Tirion built upon the green hill of Túna.
Birds sang on the soft breeze, more musical than any on Earth. One fluttered down from the wind above, a small thing, perhaps half again the size of my fist, with plumage of rich violet and eyes like liquid gold. It settled upon my shoulder, chirping quietly in my ear.
I took a shuddering breath, tears spilling from my eyes, and kept walking. The bird stayed on my shoulder, occasionally singing a lilting melody in encouragement. The grass passed away beneath me as I walked into the West.
After what felt like hours I heard the rumble of hoofbeats upon the downs. Horses approached from the north. I swayed to a halt and turned to my right, my head gently swaying to the song of the bird on my shoulder. Three figures on horseback approached quickly, speeding directly in my direction. They had seen me before I had seen them. They reached me quickly and slowed to a trot, encircling me before coming to a stop. Three spears leveled at my head. The bird chirped indignantly.
My gaze drifted up the length of the spear directly in front of my face until my eyes met those of its wielder. "Hello, Elrond," I said.
Elrond Peredhel stared down at me, blue eyes like chips of ice. "Sauron," he growled.
"Genuinely didn't expect to be recognized that quickly," I said.
His angular eyebrows rose. "You bear an unknown Ring of Power," he said darkly, his gaze darting down to my hand. "Of the masters of Ring-Lore, only one is unaccounted for."
I lifted the Tenth Penitent to my eyes and looked at it for a moment, turning my hand before my face. "Not unknown," I said. I met his eyes again, before glancing at the hand upon his spear. There was a sapphire ring on it, its brilliance long since faded. Here in Aman, where Discord could not penetrate, it had long since diminished away into mundanity. "Just changed. But I suppose you were a Ring-Bearer. If anyone would know me, it would be you." I turned slowly, looking at the other two Elves. "I don't believe we ever met," I said, nodding at the twins. "Elladan and Elrohir, yes?"
One looked at me grimly, mouth a thin line, but the other cocked his head. "How do you even know our names?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
"I was incorporeal, not dead," I said. "I made it a point to keep tabs on my old enemies and their descendants. At least, when I could." I shrugged. "I did eventually lose track of Isildur's line, as I'm sure you all know."
The brother who had spoken to me winced. The other's jaw tightened. "Yes," said Elrond behind me. "We remember."
I frowned. "I gather I've stumbled over a nerve," I said, turning back to the father. "Sorry about that. I'm a bit out of date."
Elrond glared at me for a moment. "How have you come to be here?" he asked. "You were banished from the West."
"Clearly," I said, "I have been un-banished. Unless you think I've managed to pull the wool over the eyes of Ilúvatar."
"I am unsure which I find less likely," Elrond said darkly.
I cocked an eyebrow. "You should have more faith in Ilúvatar," I said.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. "You will come with us."
"Where to?" I asked. "I need to get to Valimar. I have news for the Valar."
"You will go where you are bade," Elrond growled.
I took a deep breath. "People are dying," I said softly. "By the thousands, perhaps the millions. I want nothing more than to lie down and never move again, but I have a duty to fulfill. I have already failed once. I must not fail again. I must speak with the Valar."
"What care you for the lives of mortal folk?" asked the dour-faced brother behind me.
The bird on my shoulder squawked angrily at him. I took a steadying breath, carefully unclenching my fists. "At a guess?" I said coldly. "More than you."
"You dare—" hissed the elf, but his father interrupted.
"Elladan," said Elrond quellingly, his eyes flinty and fixed on me. "Enough. We will take you to Tirion, where you will be tried by one who knows you better than most."
"Good," I said. "Tirion's in the right direction. Are you going to bring me on one of your horses, or am I just walking alongside?"
"You will be tied," said Elrond, nodding at Elrohir. I shrugged, turned, and offered my hands for the rope as the friendliest of the elves descended from his horse.
They bound my wrists and ankles and gagged me with a strip of cloth. I understood the gag and the hands, but tying my feet together seemed excessive. I didn't complain, partly because of the gag.
Elrond tied me to the back of his saddle like a sack and the three horses started galloping towards Tirion. I bounced uncomfortably on Elrond's charger's rump, but my armor and the padding beneath it cushioned me somewhat.
It didn't take long on horseback to reach the city. Tirion had once been a fortress, and the great walls of white stone still stood, but the massive mallorn-wood gate was wide open to us, and no guards were posted at the entry. It had been a long time since any foe had threatened any part of Aman.
Once we passed the gate, the city's inhabitants started to notice us. Many looked confused, seeing what looked like a young human strapped roughly to the saddle of one of the last great Elf-lords from the Third Age. A few faces, however, went ashen as they fell upon me, stricken with awe and terror. I recognized one or two of them myself—was that Glorfindel, staring at me across a wide marble square?
Elrond's horse came to a halt before the gates of Tirion's great keep, and the Elves dismounted, then untied my feet and pulled me from the saddle. "Walk," Elrond ordered, so I walked.
Elrond led me down into the keep's dungeon. His sons kept behind me, and I felt their wary eyes on my back. The dungeon was more well-lit than most I remembered, though to be fair, most of those dungeons had been either mine or Melkor's. They were also entirely empty, at least until we came upon a cell with particularly heavy bars and shackles against the walls. Elrond pushed the door open and held it for me. I passed him, walking past the bars and into the small room. Elladan followed me in and shackled one of my ankles to a heavy chain. Then, at long last, my gag was removed.
I met Elrond's gaze across the bars as Elladan closed the door behind him and locked me in. "You said someone would come to try me," I said. "How soon will that be?"
"He has already heard of your coming, I am sure," Elrond said. "If not, I shall fetch him. I would not be so eager to face judgement, were I you."
"Were you me," I said, "you would understand that I have already faced all the judgement that matters."
His face hardened, but he turned away without a word and stalked away. His sons followed, Elrohir giving me one backward glance of curiosity as they left.
I sighed and sat down on the small cot in the cell's corner to wait. The mattress was, of course, as plush as a cloud and warm as an embrace. Part of me wanted to curl up on it and bawl like an infant. Instead, I bowed my head and closed my eyes, breathing slow and deep as I allowed time to pass around me.
Several minutes passed in near silence. I drifted into memory and daydreams, but always I remained aware of my mission.
I had died, and I had been allowed back into the West. There was a reason, and I knew exactly what it was. It wouldn't be the first time. Glorfindel had died, and returned as an emissary. So had—
"This, I did not expect," said a soft voice from outside my cell.
My eyes slid open. I looked up and met a pair of dark blue eyes beneath bushy eyebrows. His hair was black, now, and both it and his beard were trimmed and short. Upon his finger was a dull ruby ring. The lines of age had faded from his face since last I had seen him, but I would know those eyes anywhere.
"Olórin," I whispered.
He studied me, his brow furrowed in thought. "I do not know what name I should call you," he admitted quietly. "That you are here at all tells me that the one by which I most recently knew you may no longer be yours."
"I'd like to think I've grown past Sauron," I said hoarsely. "I've gone by Mairë, lately, though I suppose that's more for you to judge. The name nearest my heart, however, is Taylor."
"Taylor." He spoke the name slowly, testing it on his tongue. "A name of Men?"
I nodded. "I didn't remember who I was for fifteen years," I said. "A long time, among them. I grew up as one of them. I am one of them, now."
He pulled up a chair which I didn't think had been there a moment before and sat, gazing at me across the bars. "You were sent to live among them," he said. It wasn't a question. "Do you know why?"
"I think I do," I said. "Partly to learn. To come back from the dark paths I'd been walking. But partly because they needed me. They need me. They need us, Olórin." I swallowed. "Dagor Dagorath has come."
His face tightened. "You are certain of this?"
"As certain as I can be without seeing Melkor in person," I said. "It's not happening exactly as was prophesied. Ungoliant's brood have multiplied in number and power. They are scattered among myriad worlds, preying on those left behind. I was born into a world one was cultivating for a harvest. He killed me. He will have started to cull my friends in my absence." I swallowed. "He already killed—someone I've come to love. I have to go back, Olórin. I have to stop him."
He was nodding slowly. "It is not my place to decide such things," he said. "But I do not think you would be here if your purpose was not true." He stood up, pulling a ring of keys from his sleeve and unlocking my cell, then tossed the ring to me to unlock my shackle. "Come," he said. "We will go to Valimar, and make your case before the Valar."
"We?" I asked, hardly daring to hope.
He nodded solemnly. "If you are right," he said, "then it must not be you alone who returns to the worlds of Men. And I believe you are. If the Valar allow it, I would join you."
My hands shook as I stood. I swallowed thickly. "Thank you."
His lips twitched into a slight smile. "Perhaps I am blinded by hope," he said. "It is an old and well-known flaw of mine. It is good to see you again, Mairo—Taylor. Even after all these ages."
"I'm sorry," I said, the words falling from my lips almost unbidden.
"It was never I you wronged," Olórin pointed out gently. "Save your regret for those who better deserve to hear it. I think we shall meet many of them in Valinor."