Entling
By Thalia Weaver
Chapter 15: Mandos
The Ered-Nimrais retreated ever farther into the distance, their white tops still visible from afar, topped by the gold crown of daylight. Eldarion walked quickly beside me, our mirth of the previous days having vanished, to be replaced with a grave foreboding. I did not dream, those nights, only tossed and turned, my mind filled with dark thoughts of some nameless shadow whose threatening presence seemed to lurk just beyond the horizon.
The vegetation began to thin three days after we left the mountain. Within a week, only the occasional desiccated tree or shrub still grew: the rest was a desert of strange, scorched earth that carried no memory of plant nor root; it smelled of foul things I did not wish to wonder about. There was something wrong with the land, something dire- a darkness that ran in the veins of the earth, stopping up the green life. The earth was cold beneath my feet, and I felt that cold seeping through me and into me.
Slowly, as we moved on, I felt myself weakening: every step that brought me into contact with the withering earth-that-was-not-earth sapped my strength, until finally, only a fortnight from the place I had touched Eldarion's hair in the peaceful coldness of the night, I collapsed.
"Entling!" Eldarion cried, lifting me to my feet with the worried expression I had seen him wearing often in the past weeks. "What happened?"
I felt my breath come shallow in my breast, and waited until I could muster up the strength to speak. "Nothing- it is nothing-"
But we both knew the lie, and I sank down again, too exhausted and frozen even to cry. I knew that to rise once more, to go on, would be beyond my strength.
"It is not nothing- tell me what is wrong, tell me, tell me so I may heal you-" his voice was frantic, cracking like a boy's.
"You, the son of a healer," I murmured, looking at him from behind lowered lids, too tired to keep them open anymore. "You do not recognize dying when you see it? Tell me you do not feel the death that shadows this land…"
And then I was too weak to go on, and closed my eyes, welcoming that final darkness at last.
* * *
The corridor was long- so very, very long…I ran and ran, barely noticing that above me starlight shone, that the walls seemed to contain the moonlight- only searching and searching-
*Who are you, that you cause such a disturbance here?*
I turned and caught sight of an impossibly tall figure, and two eyes like bright diamonds. His voice was like the shimmer of stars in my mind.
Please, I must find him, I must find him- do not make me stay here, I beg you-
*Yavanna's daughter? Yavanna's daughter here, in the Halls of Mandos…*
There was a faintly amused edge to his voice.
*Now, who do you seek so urgently?*
Eldarion, I cried in anguish. I would never see him again- never- never-
*Such agony,* he said, and seemed to pause in grave thought. *But you can never become mortal. Not you, Redeemer of the Shepherds…*
I want only to see him again-
*Very well. But perhaps you will not wish the same if ever we meet again, Yavanna's daughter…few may pass through these Halls unchanged.*
He touched a cool hand to my forehead, something unreadable shining in his bright eyes.
*Sleep now, and wake in his arms…*
* * *
I felt light- as though I had been flying…
* * *
My nose was wet.
I blinked, my eyelids heavy. My nose was wet; indeed my entire face was wet with tears- but not my own-
I opened my eyes. There, a few inches from my face, a red-eyed Eldarion was leaning over me, my head in his lap. His face was full of some measureless sorrow- I felt my throat constrict, looking at him. My sweet Eldarion…
He looked closer at me, and saw that my eyes were open.
"Entling?" he asked, softly, his expression that of one who barely dared hope.
"Eldarion," I said, and leaned up, kissing him hard. It lasted a long time, leaning into him, feeling his tears on my face. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and touched my face as though he could barely believe I was really there…
"Entling," he said faintly, gazing at me as though quite unsure whether to laugh or cry. "You are back."
