Chapter One: The Spirits
Elrond awoke slowly, and in a near-conscious state, he was amazed to find that he felt no pain. Actually, he didn't feel much of anything. He seemed to be floating, drifting like a leaf on the surface of a still pool. Perfectly tranquil.
He opened his eyes, and let out a yelp of shock. He was floating – not on water, but in the air. And where had his body gone? He scanned the ground below him, almost frantic. There was no sign of his body, nor those of his friends.
"Galadriel?" he called. His voice was like a calm summer breeze, soft and whispery. Like the wind that was sweeping around him, buffeting him back and forth.
"Elrond?"
The smooth, rippling voice seemed to be Galadriel's; it came from somewhere beneath him. Elrond glanced down, trying to steer himself toward the voice. It worked, but it took him a little while to get started. He'd have to get used to this feeling.
"Where are you?" he asked.
"Down here. Where are you?"
Elrond looked down, and saw his mother-in-law's face on the surface of a large puddle underneath him. The image shimmered under pale daylight and infrequent drips of water from above; the storm seemed to be over.
Galadriel looked confused and disoriented as she gazed skyward. "What happened?" she asked."Where are you?"
"I'm right above you," Elrond replied calmly. "Don't worry; I can't see myself either."
"How did I get here?" Galadriel asked.
"You got there the same way I got where I am," said her son-in-law. "But I do wish I knew how."
"Where is Gandalf?" inquired Galadriel.
"I'm here," a low, crackly voice replied from nearby. "In the flames."
Elrond turned, and saw a tree that had been struck by lightning. Orange flames hissed and smoked around it. And in the fire was Gandalf's face.
"What happened?" he asked. "Where are you?"
"I'm in the wind, and Galadriel is in a pool just below me," said Elrond. "And I think I might just know what happened here."
"What?" chorused his friends' voices.
"Somehow, I believe we have all become the essence of our Rings of Power," Elrond replied. "Wind, water and fire."
"What does this mean?" Galadriel wondered.
"I don't know." Elrond sighed like a rush of wind through leafy trees. "But people are going to wonder about our whereabouts when our bodies are nowhere to be found."
"You're right,"Galadriel agreed. "But how will we ever explain this?"
Elrond thought for a moment, and then slipped deftly into a passing breeze. "I'll be right back."
----
Elrond sailed invisibly through the Last Homely House, calling his daughter's name in the voice of the wind. Where could Arwen be? He glanced through doors and windows as he passed them, seeing no sign of his youngest child.
But at last he spotted her in her bedroom, reading by sunlight. Slipping in through the half-open door, Elrond swirled gracefully around his daughter's head. "Hello, Arwen."
She flinched, staring around in alarm. "Who's there? Where are you?" she demanded.
"It's your father," Elrond replied softly in her ear. "I'm right beside you."
"Prove it." Arwen's eyebrows drew together as she stared sceptically in the direction of the voice.
"How?" Elrond queried, hovering next to her ear.
"Say something only my father would know. What would you have named me if I had been male?"
"I had wanted to call you Arion," Elrond replied, "but your mother had her heart set on calling you Galadhon, after her grandfather. So that's what it would have been."
Arwen nodded understandingly, her expression relaxing. "Why can't I see you?"
"It's a long story. To make things simple, I went out in the storm last night, and I've somehow become some sort of wind-spirit. That's why I'm invisible."
Arwen considered this. "Maybe if you moved behind a curtain, I could see you."
Elrond obediently slipped behind the gauzy, lilac-coloured drapery by the window, glancing down as his body was shown standing there. He was quite relieved to see that he was (apparently) fully clothed, in the long nightshirt he had been wearing before the unnatural incident.
Arwen smiled. "There you are. But is it only you? Have others been affected?"
"I'm afraid so. Gandalf and Galadriel have been transformed as well. They are spirits of fire and water."
"Where are they?"
"They're outside," said Elrond, emerging softly from behind the curtain. "I'll take you there. Just follow the wind. Oh – and bring a candle and basin."
----
Arwen hurried after her father, following the sound of his voice on the wind. An unlit candle was in her left hand, an empty bowl in her right. She rushed gracefully over silver-edged grass, wet and glimmering from the rain.
"Just here," Elrond told her, swooping down to where a toppled tree was still flaming. The ground below was riddled with pools of rainwater. Arwen was careful not to step in any.
"Hello, Arwen," said a calm voice from a puddle by her feet.
Arwen gasped as she looked down. There was a face in the water!
"Grandmother?" she breathed in disbelief.
"Yes," Galadriel replied, smiling up at her. "Is Elrond here?"
"Of course," Elrond spoke up, gusting by her in a sudden strong wind. "Gandalf?"
"I'm still here," said the fire-spirit's voice from the blazing tree. If Arwen looked hard enough, she could see a face flickering in the fire. Gandalf's face.
"How is this possible?" she wondered aloud.
"We don't know," Elrond told her. "But that's not why I brought you here. Have you heard of anyone wondering where the three of us are?"
"No," Arwen replied. "It's just past dawn; no-one is awake yet but me. Or rather, us."
"Good," said Galadriel. "It's best we keep it that way."
"But sooner or later people are going to wonder where you all are," Arwen told him. "Elves and wizards don't simply vanish into thin air."
"Elrond did," Gandalf reminded her. "But I see your point. Someone else will find out sooner or later."
"Not if we don't give them reason to," said Elrond mysteriously.
"What do you mean?" asked Arwen.
"I mean," the wind-spirit replied, "that if everyone were to believe that the three of us were away on an excursion of sorts, they would have no reason to worry about where our bodies have disappeared to."
"You want her to tell everyone a pack of lies?" cried Gandalf.
"She won't be lying," Elrond smiled. "In fact, she will be telling the absolute truth."
Galadriel frowned. "Where will we be going?"
"Do you remember what I mentioned last night, just before this occurred?"
Gandalf caught on at once. "You can't be serious!"
"I am very serious," Elrond told him.
"The three of us, taking on a ship full of raving, drunken pirates who kill for money and pleasure?"
"You catch on quickly."
Her curiosity piqued, Galadriel couldn't help but ask, "How do you plan to accomplish all of this?"
"You'll see. Arwen, I think we should take this inside, please…"
Arwen nodded, dipping the bowl into Galadriel's pool and holding the candlewick to Gandalf's flames. Both moved gracefully into their transportation devices. Arwen carried her two comrades carefully, and Elrond breezed along ahead of her.
Entering her bedroom, Arwen set the bowl and candle down gently on her desk and sat there, gazing at the objects in puzzlement. She could feel her father behind her, playing with her hair.
"What are you doing?" she asked, trying to look over her shoulder and not disturb him at the same time.
"I'm braiding your hair," Elrond answered, busily twining her dark locks. "You should wear it up more often."
Arwen laughed. "Don't bring it anywhere near Gandalf."
"I would never dream of harming you," said Gandalf's voice from the candle flame, in a mockingly offended tone.
"What were you saying about fighting Corsairs?" Arwen asked her father.
"I have a plan to intercept the Corsairs before they get anywhere near Mithlond," the wind-spirit replied. "Perhaps before they get to Anfalas."
"How?" asked Galadriel's voice from the bowl of rainwater.
Elrond smiled invisibly. "Listen carefully…"
----
"I hope you know what you're doing, Ada," said Arwen, as she crouched nervously on the north bank of the river Bruinen. Gandalf's candle and Galadriel's bowl were in her hands.
"I know what I'm doing," Elrond reassured his daughter, swirling around in an eddy of wind. "Galadriel, Gandalf, are you ready?"
"Yes," two voices replied.
"Very well," said Elrond. "Arwen, if you would be so kind…"
Arwen nodded, picking up the bowl and tipping its contents into the river. Holding up the candle she wondered aloud, "But what will happen when…"
"I'm sure I'll be fine," said Gandalf calmly from the small flame. "Go on."
Rather hesitantly, Arwen blew out the candle. She felt a rather large twinge of guilt, but was reassured when the fire-spirit's voice whispered to her, seemingly from nowhere, "Don't worry; I'm all right."
"Where ae you?" she asked.
"Somewhere in the embers of the earth," Gandalf replied. "Wherever there is fire, that is where I will be… wherever I choose."
Arwen nodded, rising and turning to return to Rivendell. "Good luck, all of you."
"I love you, Arwen," whispered her father and grandmother simultaneously.
"I love you, too," Arwen replied. "How long will you be gone?"
"As long as it takes," Elrond sighed. "I'll miss you."
"So will I," said Arwen sadly.
Then she felt invisible arms wrap tenderly around her, and instinctively moved to hug her father back. But when she did, she felt nothing.
"Where are you?" she asked. "I can't feel you."
"Try again," he told her. "Try to see me in your mind."
She did, and was rewarded with the feeling of Elrond's robe soft against her fingers, his back and shoulders muscular beneath. She sighed. "There you are."
Elrond moved slowly away, lingering for a few moments with his hand in hers. Then he departed, whispering, "Goodbye, Arwen."
"Goodbye, Ada," she replied softly.