Before the dawn he went away
In Elder Days and Here and Now
Oh, he thinks as Nienna smiles at Bella, his teacher reaching out to welcome his friend into her embrace, I'm dreaming.
(It's a good dream, so he doesn't struggle against it.)
He bows again before Nienna, who smiles – again! - when Bella grins as she curtsies, and Gerontius, who's also here in the waistcoat he wore at that last splendid birthday party, bows and asks if 'M'lady would care to tread a measure?'
He lets Bella take his arm to pull him over to the walls, so that he can tell her things about the people and stories painted in each alcove.
He points to the ceiling, watching her awed joy at the thousands of stars spangled in Queen Varda's hair.
He takes cups and gets wine for them both; she sips hers and makes a face while he remembers and savours the taste.
Bella lets him pull her out onto the floor where a Hobbiton tune (of all things) is starting up, to join the dancers taking their places.
He catches glimpses of faces he once knew – or who Olórin once knew, really, but also faces that blinked in and out of the time that he's spent in this Third Age of the world.
Elves, Dwarves, Ents, Men, Hobbits flash into his sight and away again as Bella laughs.
He can't tell what height he is any longer; how strange that he can look her in the eye.
He's flying out from Bella's hands and she's flying out from his until suddenly they've spilled on the floor, (not gasping for breath because it's a good dream) and laughing, and Bella hugs him close.
They're on their feet again and dancing a dance that Olórin saw once, when she who is now Galadriel but who was once Artanis – and still is Artanis, and somewhere here probably – danced with her eldest brother in the days of the Trees, all leaps and bounds.
Gerontius joins them, swinging Nienna around as if she were a Hobbit lass, the Lady of Mercy still smiling!
Now they're giving their feet a rest as they slump on a bench and he's tired, his head's resting on Bella's shoulder and ever so slightly on her breast and she strokes his curls (curls? It's a dream) as they watch the worlds and peoples go by.
Let us stay like this forever.
He doesn't know how they got there, but Bella's talking to someone else and he's watching as Melkor reels in Mairon.
(In the world outside the dream, he can't remember ever talking to Mairon. This does not mean they truly never spoke, merely that Olórin - that was - perhaps thought it was best that he - who is now - should not remember, lest the possibilities drive him mad with regret.)
Mairon is beautifully innocent and Melkor is beautifully not, and Mairon listens to Melkor with all his attention, with all his heart, and if anyone else was watching with the knowledge that…whoever he is right now, held, they'd see the Ainur is close to being lost.
Melkor's hand reaches up to rest on Mairon's shoulder. Fingers squeeze. Mairon's eyes are near closed now in thought or lust, his lips parted, his face shows a trance of total willing surrender, of utter desire.
He's gasping when Melkor releases him and sweeps away.
He gapes after him.
This is a dream that's turning from good to bad; he squeezes Bella's arm and steps away from her, toward Mairon.
He reaches Mairon just as the elder spirit turns to look at him, forcing a smile where smiles had always come easily before.
"Well met, little brother," he says (they're not kindred in that sense, he doesn't think, not like Manwë and Melkor, but it's a tender regard and it's still there, there's still hope)
"Brother, please, ware of Melkor."
He grabs at Marion's sleeve before he can turn away and the elder frowns; why is Mairon so tall and he so small?
"Please don't listen to him, don't go with him, Mairon, please, listen to me, he'll destroy you."
Mairon is smiling more readily now but shaking his head, gently pulling his sleeve away, "I thank you for your concern, little brother, truly I do,"
he slips away and runs,
"but my fate is my own."
He calls shouts screams after Mairon "He'll destroy you and you'll destroy everything, come back, come back, come back."
When he wakes up that morning sore and near weeping, Bella comes over from where she's cooking breakfast with some tea. She sits beside him for a while as they drink it, and Bella pats him on the back as she remarks "I think it's going to be a beautiful day."
Mairon was Sauron's name before he entered Melkor's service. Did his corruption really happen like this? Who knows (unlikely, bless Tolkien's Catholic sensibilities) but it makes for an interesting image.