Grace
(Amras)
We were hunters, my brother and I. In the dawn of our lives we hunted with Oromë in Valinor, and then we hunted the Silmarils that were taken from us. Nothing that we pursued could long outrun us, but still we were driven, filled with insatiable longing we did not understand.
Now we dwell together in the halls of Mandos. We have no Silmarils, but nor do we have eyes to see light, or hands to be burned. In merciful Námo's grace there is peace, sweeter than we could have ever found ourselves.
We search no longer. We are free.
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed from the beginning of this cycle to the end! It's been a lot of fun to do this, and I hope you all have enjoyed it as much as I have. -Ithiliel