Chapter Forty-Four: Fraternity and Fear
Manwë smiled in relief as the four figures in and around the bed gasped for breath, their eyes fluttering as their spirits returned to their bodies. The three Valar stepped back as the elf sat up, rather blearily. He gazed silently at Tulkas, then Mandos (who still had blood on his lips), and held his eyes on Lórien.
"Am I still dreaming?" Elrond I asked shakily.
The Dream-lord shook his head gently, a sad smile rising to his lips. "No, Elrond, you are wide awake. I'm here." He clasped his friend's hand lovingly in his own, as tears flowed down both of their faces.
The half-elf looked up, meeting the calm eyes of the three Valar who had helped him. He sent out thanks to each of them, smiling at their gentle replies.
Elrond I glanced down at a faint tickling sensation on his right shoulder. He smiled as the diminutive form of little Lórien clambered up to his collarbone. The Dream-lord himself laughed softly, saying, "There I am."
"Who told you?" the elf frowned, looking up at his friend.
"Námo did," Lórien replied calmly, interestedly watching the tiny replica of himself walk up his arm. "He has been giving me updates on occurrences here for the past seventeen hundred years. I've been delivering dreams and visions from afar, to resist… temptation."
Elrond nodded. "I see. So, I suppose we don't have too much catching up to do."
The Dream-lord frowned as Elrond I opened the top drawer of his bedside cupboard. The elf nodded to little Lórien, who leapt lightly from the real Vala's shoulder onto his hand. Elrond lowered his hand to the lip of the drawer, saying, "It's good to see you back in the game."
The miniature Dream-lord descended Elrond's fingers and stepped down into the drawer, where he was welcomed warmly by his fourteen colleagues. The tiny Morgoth snarled in silent rage.
Mandos shared a wordless look with Tulkas, and the two of them vanished softly. Manwë lingered, however, and laid a hand on Lórien's shoulder, speaking rather hesitantly as the Vala turned to him.
"Irmo," he began, "I owe you a sincere apology. I realize now that I was much mistaken in dismissing you from Elrond's trust. Had it not been for your actions tonight, he would surely have been claimed by Morgoth." He carefully met his kinsman's eyes. "I ask your forgiveness."
"And I gladly grant it to you," the Dream-lord replied graciously.
"Thank you," the Wind-lord smiled gratefully. He glanced momentarily down at Elrond I before speaking again. "I believe Elrond deserves a peaceful respite for the remainder of tonight, wouldn't you agree?"
Lórien nodded, smiling as he stretched out his right hand. "I would."
The elf couldn't help but notice how tenderly the Vala's fingers stroked his cheek before coming to rest gently upon his forehead. Elrond smiled as his comrade inquired, "Is there anything specific you would like to see?"
"Why don't we start off with our 'usual', and then you can decide from there?" Elrond I suggested.
Lórien laughed quietly, his pale blue eyes glimmering. "Very well."
----
As they stepped out onto the pale ledge above the dark whirlpool of slumber, Elrond I struck up a conversation with his friend. "What was that strange cracking noise I heard after Lord Tulkas banished Morgoth from my dream?"
The Dream-lord chuckled rather impishly. "It was an icicle striking his shoulder. I could not resist the temptation to land a blow upon him."
Elrond couldn't mask his spite. "I hope it hurt."
There was a moment of silence before the elf spoke up again, now nervous. "Sire?"
"Yes?"
Elrond I had to force his tongue to move and form his next words. "If it wasn't you who sent the nightmare, then who was it?"
The Vala hesitated slightly before answering, "It was Morgoth."
"Morgoth can send dreams?" Elrond cried in horror.
Lórien nodded. "Yes. It is your sad fate to be assailed by one who was once the mightiest of the Valar, the one with the powers of nearly all of the other Ainur together. Including mine."
The half-elf took this in slowly. Morgoth could readily march into his mind – but so could Lord Lórien. Perhaps his nights would be safer now than they had been, with the Dream-lord's protection.
Lórien smiled as they reached the edge of the protrusion. "Shall we?"
The elf nodded, swinging down and clinging to the stone with one hand. The Vala began the familiar sing-song lullaby Elrond had all but forgotten, reaching down to pluck away his fingers one by one.
Just as he was about to fall, the half-elf gazed up at Lórien and smiled.
"Thank you, my lord… for everything."
The Vala smiled back, gently pushing Elrond's forefinger away from the ledge. "Pleasant dreams, tôr nin." (my brother)
----
Elrond II awoke before dawn, frowning through the darkness. The once-merry fire in the hearth was no more than a heap of crumbling ashes. The elf sighed in annoyance, pulling his blanket tighter around his body and trying to fall asleep again. When slumber refused to grant him the favor, he sat up, stepped into a pair of slippers and proceeded to roam the dusky corridors of the sleeping haven.
It had snowed a great deal during the night; the icy white crystals lay in huge drifts in the valley. The light of the full moon made them blaze like tiny flakes of silver. A flicker of shadow upon the otherwise unmarred whiteness caught his attention; he followed it with interested eyes. It was the shadow of a dancer.
The figure of a tall woman leapt and twirled over the sparkling mounds, her feet kicking up spindrifts of powdery snow. Her hair and skirt streamed out behind her like shadowy banners in the wind; in contrast, her pale skin glowed ghostly white in the moonlight. She turned to face him, and he saw that it was Nessa.
The Valië smiled as he bowed respectfully to her, pausing momentarily and extending her hand to him. "Will you join me?"
"I would be most honored to, my lady," Elrond II replied, rising and striding toward her.
As they met, they joined hands and began a new dance. It began slowly, and increased to a rapid pace. They whirled beneath the moon and stars, their shadows mingling, skirt and nightshirt billowing as snow flew up around their silent feet.
When they came to a brief halt, Elrond was panting slightly while Nessa was tireless. The elf flushed as he apologized.
"Forgive me for not possessing your stamina, my lady."
Nessa gave a cheery laugh. "Of course."
Elrond II stared out to the east, where the horizon was beginning to turn to pale gold. "Is that the sun already?"
"It is," the Valië affirmed, following his gaze. She looked back at him, gave him a swift once-over and laughed again, good-naturedly. "You had best put on some proper clothing for today."
Elrond blushed a second time, bowing as he turned to go. "Yes, of course. Good day, my lady."
----
Seated next to himself at the breakfast table, Elrond I nudged his other half in the arm as Elrond II raised his fork to his mouth. "What were you up to last night?"
"Right before dawn, you mean? I was just dancing in the snow."
"With whom, exactly?"
Elrond II washed down his mouthful with a small sip of wine before replying, "Only the greatest dancer in all of Arda."
"Ah," Elrond I nodded. "That explains why I'm so worn-out this morning, in spite of that lovely dream I had last night."
"'Lovely'?" Elrond II repeated in disbelief. "I really hope you're not talking about… that one."
"No, no! I mean afterwards – the one Lord Lórien gave me."
Elrond II flinched in surprise as he raised his wineglass to his mouth; the goblet clicked a little against his teeth, and a few drops of the deep red liquid dripped down his chin.
"What?" he exclaimed, forcing his voice to a whisper as he reached for a handkerchief.
Elrond I frowned. "The one Lord Lórien–"
"Who?"
"You can't seriously not know!"
"You mean he's–?" Elrond II's eyes widened.
Elrond I nodded. "Yes. He's back – for good this time." The elder half-elf sighed quietly. "And I've got a lot of adjusting to do. This is the first night I've had a dream in seventeen hundred years."
"Not to mention the brotherhood thing," his godson added.
Elrond I's eyes clouded slightly. "Yes… that, too."
'The brotherhood thing' had been swimming around the half-elf's mind ever since he had been told of it by Varda. He knew that he and Lord Lórien shared deep fraternal love, as did the Dream-lord and his older brother. And that brother, Lord Mandos, felt for Elrond himself as well.
It was a strong, profound triangle, and there might have been other links in the chain: for instance, Varda, his "aunt". If all that was so, he mused, then wouldn't Lords Mandos and Lórien also be her nephews, and maybe Lady Nienna her niece? And Lord Manwë would be his uncle… the uncle he'd never had.
Elrond I sighed yet again. The thought of his mother's lost brothers made his mind coast toward Elwing herself. She was still waiting back in Mithlond. Had Lord Mandos told her that he was safe?
Fear not, she knows about your well-being, murmured Mandos' reassuring voice in his head. I have told her everything.
The half-elf sighed, relieved. Very well.
----
Elrond I floundered uselessly in a shapeless grey nothing, trying to disentangle himself from the gossamer veil of a dream. A face swam before him, its appearance changing and shifting constantly. It was fair-skinned, with pointed ears and silver hair… the eyes were pale blue… no, dark blue… no, now they were turquoise… was there a beard or not?
"Who are you?" the half-elf cried out in confusion.
The person, whoever he was, spoke in a clear, familiar voice, fraught with sorrow. "Have you forgotten me already, mellon nin?"
His vision cleared, and Elrond found himself staring at Cirdan. The shipwright gazed at him adamantly, his eyes urgent. "Follow me."
"Where to?" Elrond I asked. "There's nowhere to go!"
As though it had been itching to make a liar out of him, a road unrolled below him like a long, wide ribbon. The path seemed to stretch on for endless miles before him, but when he looked back, Elrond found that it ended just past his heels. He gave a huff of confused exasperation.
"We can't go back," Cirdan told him firmly, "only forward. Follow me."
"Where are we going?" the half-elf asked.
"You have walked this path before," the bearded elf answered cryptically. "As did I, in a former existence that is now nothing more than a fading memory. You should know."
Elrond I fell silent, and strode mutely along in his friend's footsteps, lost in a labyrinth of thought. From what he had just heard, his friend had known about his past life, and had acknowledged it carelessly. But that was impossible – he had never been told! Had he?
He risked a glance over his shoulder, noticing the road evaporate behind him with every step. He turned his eyes to the front again, seeing that the path ahead was cloaked partly in shadow, but with a great light beyond. Cirdan was unsettlingly quiet as they walked.
The shipwright halted so abruptly that Elrond walked into him. Cirdan gave a long sigh, and stepped away from the path, onto the grey void.
"I can lead you no further," he said regretfully. "You must make the rest of this journey alone."
"How?" cried Elrond I, fear bubbling in his heart. "I don't know where the road goes, I don't know what's ahead! Everything's changing! Tell me what to do!"
Cirdan smiled compassionately, giving the fearful elf a gentle hug before stepping back slightly and starting to vanish into the emptiness. "Follow in my footsteps; walk where you know I walked before."
"I don't remember where you walked!" the half-elf wailed miserably. "Please don't go!"
"Oh, Elrond…"
The shipwright's arms were around him once more, and the turquoise eyes gazed deeply into his. His voice was soft and comforting.
"You have other friends than me," he whispered. "They will be the light to help you see the path ahead. Just trust them. It will be all right… I swear this to you."
Elrond nodded mutely, burying his face in his friend's shirt as tears rolled down his face. "Thank you, mellon nin."