Xxxxxxxxx Mithond xxxxxxxxxX
The hobbits had departed, but Celeborn, Glorfindel, and Elrohir stood at the quay watching the light glistening on the ocean as the waves murmured comfortingly. Cirdan needed to step away briefly to confer with his councilors.
"I still fear for them," Elrohir admitted. "Adar was deeply worried about Frodo. For he thought the pattern and timing of his ailments indicated some darker force."
"The black breath also still affects many more elves, men, and hobbits than I would have expected, given that Sauron was defeated over two years ago." Glorfindel gave Elrohir a pointed look. The Peredhel had the grace to blush and look away.
"Galadriel also felt that some evil still lingered and that some lost to the darkness over the ages were still trapped and unable to heed Namo's call. I think finding the lost ones is part of my task. Perhaps it is a small part of why you both were called to remain." The others gasped at Celeborn's revelations. "Maybe it is also the reason your heritage has awoken. Together, we are to root out any remaining residue of Sauron and cleanse these lands."
"Your words may hold truth, for I know not yet what my calling is. I will take solace in the fact that meditation might reveal it to me." Elrohir paused then voiced his most pressing concern. "Uinen's song diminishes. She must be traveling away from us."
"That she leaves our proximity at the same time as the ships is likely no coincidence." Glorfindel looked out over the sea. If Elrohir did not know better, he might have guessed that the legendary warrior from Gondolin could still see the ship.
"You think she follows Adar?" Concern seeped into Elrohir's voice.
"The ring bearers also spoke of the necessity of taking Celembrior's creations west, for any remnants of Sauron's power would be drawn to them."
"Drawn to them? "Elrohir cried. Is that why the Valar asked them to take the ship together? Are they still burdened with responsibilities?"
"It may be one of the reasons." Glorfindel paused, thinking of how to address the following issue delicately. "If so, Uinen and Ossë would be assigned to protect and guard their ship."
"But their songs together would be nearly deafening." Panic seeped into Elrohir's voice, for he had not yet come to terms with his shocking meeting with the sea-swept Maia.
"Fear not, Elrohir. You spoke with Mithrandir. He is aware of the situation." Celeborn reminded him.
"I am not so sure. He does not think like we do. Take my word, for we carried out several missions for him." Elrohir shook his head. "Mithrandir was intrigued by what happened but did not comprehend. I mean to say, he thought we – Adar in particular – were enigmas."
"Remember, they do not travel alone. Erestor, Cirulian, and Galadriel will watch out and advocate for Elrond. He will do the same for them andthe hobbits."
Xxxxxx The ring bearer's ship xxxxxxX
"Your heritage is ever a surprise to me. I know not how much I can teach you nor how much you can learn given the injuries to your spirit." He took Elrond's hand, and they both turned to face the ocean. "Let us answer her together."
At first, Elrond did not feeling anything. The sound of Uinen's call was so loud in his head that it disrupted all else. Focussing inward, as he did to speak mind-to-mind with Glorfindel or with his family, was also not fruitful.
"We communicate with our whole spirit." Mithrandir's voice came into his head. No, it was not Mithrandir. The spirit he sensed held remnants of a fëa not tied to a body.
"Olorin," Elrond realized at that moment that the Istari were truly handicapped, their power and spirit truncated to fit in the bodily forms built for their appointed tasks. "Was this truncation, this loss akin to an amputation? Maybe this was what drove Saruman to turn to darkness?"
"You are too kind to try to find some excuse to blunt the horror of his treachery," Olorin responded, his words rebounding throughout Elrond's whole body. "Yes, you begin to understand. Maiar are not tied to the body. It is but a shell we sometimes put on. For the Istari, it is a shell that the Valar wroth for us. In our true form, we communicate with our whole spirit. We are light, music, and thought."
"There is more than one song!" Elrond exclaimed in surprise. His heart raced as his soul brushed against such power.
"Aye, do you know how many?"
"I hear the soft song of your spirit." Elrond paused as the Istar mentally agreed. Mithrandir's song was indeed dampened by the Valar before he was sent to these lands. "Uinen's is different and in harmony with hers is another, wild and rash, her husband." Elrond realized.
"Yes, both Uinen and Ossë are near. Shall we greet them?" Mithrandir paused. The songs of welcome trembled through him, causing both a sharp pain in his chest and a deep sense of joy of reunion. The answering songs of Uinen and Ossë doubled both of these feelings. Elrond pressed his hand to his heart to deal with the pain. His knees buckled and he would have fallen were it not for the strong arms that supported him. His mind dimly registered the presence of Erestor and Galadriel.
"Stop this, Mithrandir," Galadriel commanded. "You injure him further! He is a Peredhel. Do not push him further than his spirit and hroar can stand." The songs of the Maiar – of Mithrandir, Uinen, and Ossë paused as if they bowed to the commands of this granddaughter of Finwë. Elrond gasped at the pain.
"This way," a small voice urged him. It was Frodo speaking, Elrond realized belatedly. "He should sit down." He felt them leading him backward.
"You belong with us." The wind caressed his spirit. Its call was relentless and as potent, nay more powerful than a single Maia. Where did this power come from? Was it from the spirits of those who had lost their way to Mandos? He had almost lost himself in its beguiling melody. His bond and long friendship with Glorfindel somehow drew him back. It would be easy to give himself over to it, to be engulfed and welcomed into a whole greater than himself, to never again need to make those difficult decisions alone.
"You hold my heart, Meleth-nin." The passion that he and Celebrian had once shared flared in response. He was so close to seeing her again. Of that, his heart was sure.
"She left you." A new dark voice emerged in the wind. It was of the black breath and laughed in the tones of those who had tortured him. These were the sounds associated with pain in the deep chasms of the most trying experiences over a life long-lived. "You mongrel. You are a mutant of the three kindreds, and none want to claim you truly. She will see your true spirit and reject you." The voice laughed low and guttural. "Move aside, Peredhel. You shall turn to dust like all the members of your house." He felt more than heard Frodo's gasp of pain. In that moment, he realized that countless spirits were lost in the wind. Among those was now the remnant that Sauron had forged into his ring.
"You shall not have this one." Elrond declared defiantly to the wind as he reached out with his fëa to protect Frodo. His spirit called to Elbereth for help.
"If you deny me, then you shall die." The darkness shot forward, forceful and swift as an arrow, intent on the shimmering spirits of the Peredhel and of the hobbit that he shielded.
Xxxxxxx
"An ill wind rises." Galadriel declared loudly, startling Frodo and Erestor, with whom she had been speaking. "Mithrandir, be wary!" The Peredhel showed no sign that he heeded her words. Instead, he appeared to sink and wrap his arms around the short hobbit. The Istar seemed frozen as if communing with those beyond their sight. "Mithrandir! Still something remains of the dark lord of Mordor." Galadriel cried as she reached out to buffer Frodo from some unseen force. Galadriel and Elrond combined their powers to hold off the attack.
"You shall not have this one!" Elrond declared.
It was then that Erestor sensed it plainly, so strongly related to the darkness that had buffeted Lothlórien and Imladris over the millennia. It was a piece of that darkness, still potent enough to destroy but not the nihilistic and oppressive force that ruled in Mordor.
Erestor gasped as a light flashed out seemingly from the air. Elrond and Galadriel's power gleamed brightly, and if Erestor had not imagined it, the hobbit's innate power shimmered with them. The air was dark next to their bright souls as if they had trapped whatever sought to injure them.
"A fragment of our brother's being?" Ossë had worked closely with Mairon ages ago. The turbulent Maia of the sea had once been enticed to Melkor's service.
"Is he not in Mandos?" Uinen asked as they searched for the darkness, which hid itself in the myriad of strains of the breeze.
"He had poured part of his essence into the ring. What happened to that essence when the ring was destroyed?" Mithrandir asked, even as he moved closer to the elves and Frodo.
Erestor was unaware of the Maiar's conversation. He saw a flash of white as Mithrandir ran towards the other ring bearers. Behind him, other elves gasped and moved backward as a water vortex rose from the ship's side. Shapes solidified into two entities. One was of a fierce warrior, taller and more comely than any elf. Next to him was the beautiful Maia Uinen. Her water-colored hair was woven into long braids that gave off rainbows in the sun. Erestor could not be sure what the three Maiar were doing as they stood silently around the other ring bearers. The air tingled with power. Gray smoke was forced together and concentrated into a dark mass that floated in the air in the center of the circle formed by Elrond, Galadriel, Mithrandir, Ossë, and Uinen.
"You have done well." A loud voice boomed through them. Its echo seemed to shake Erestor's teeth. "I will take that. It is not meant for you. My brother will deal with it." Erestor could not say which brother Ulmo referred to. His mind registered the Vala's presence, though what he sensed from where he knelt with his head bowed was the pure, unadulterated power of the Vala. Erestor raised his eyes momentarily to reconcile what his ears told him. The music of the sea emanated from the towering figure clothed in armor colored in the greens and blues of the sea. The famed Ulumúri horns were in one of his massive hands. The other stretched out towards them. The song beckoned nay commanded, and the dark remnant sped towards his outstretched fingers. Erestor turned away as the light flashed blindingly. He was unsure if he imagined it, but he thought he heard Ulmo whisper in his mind.
"I have called you. You are needed in the West." A hand grasped his shoulder. He pivoted to see Cirulian standing next to him.
"Erestor?" The Teleri's eyes held concern.
Xxxxxxxxx Mithlond xxxxxxxxxX
"You are pacing. I thought that was a habit of the Edain." Glorfindel noted as the silver lord paced the length of Cirdan's veranda. They had postponed their journey after Cirdan's foresight - or vision.
"It has been nearly two days."
"She will contact you as soon as she is able," Glorfindel reassured him. "Were there not many days during these last years that the tables were reversed? When you could not contact her?"
"I was incapacitated." Celeborn's voice hitched as he squeezed his hand into a fist and slowly exhaled. Glorfindel grimaced at having said exactly the wrong thing to the Sindar Lord. But to Celeborn, it seemed as if the world shifted suddenly. In the next moment, he stared into the depths of azure eyes, which he knew like his own flesh. Yet, in their depth, glinted a weariness that frightened him. He floated above her. His spirit touching hers mingling until they were one being in mind and thought and breathe.
"Meleth-nin." They spoke simultaneously, their thoughts and memories merging in a way beyond their prior experience. A moment and yet like a flash of infinity. They exhaled. He felt his spirit leak slowly from her hroar. Suddenly regaining his own separateness, he focused on their bond, gifting her all the love and strength he could spare. "Meleth-nin." The threads that bound them so tightly suddenly frayed. Wisps of vapor, clouds, and wind fluttered through him, sending waves of chills down his spine. The clouds thickened, engulfing him in a bright but impenetrable fog.
"Celeborn, heed my voice." Someone was calling him. An old voice, much older than him, admonished, "That is correct. And you should pay attention." The white fog cleared to the sight of a white beard as dark eyes assessed him.
"Cirdan," he realized abruptly. He was lying on a settee outside. The moon glinted above them. He blinked dazedly, and yet, he felt the glint of his wife's fëa against his own. Somehow, his spirit was sure their bond would not be severed when her ship entered the straight way. He gasped in awe and astonishment. "The Belain are blessed."
Xxxxxxxx
"He needs time. He will recover." Silsilalda had said. Yet, the healer's predictions did not ease Erestor's worry. He had spent the last three days caring for his friend and could not sense any change. Frodo had not come to any serious harm. It seemed that Galadriel and Elrond had taken the bulk of the attack. "How did the powers leave such battles still to his dear friends? Were there not others who could take on these burdens?" The Lady had woken a few hours ago. Her friends were ecstatic. Focusing on the still figure in the cot, he was shocked to see gray eyes looking back.
"Elrond! You are awake!" Erestor exclaimed joyously and rose to his feet. Elrond blinked dazedly but did not respond. Instead, the Peredhel rubbed his chest. Erestor knelt at the side of the cot, steadying himself as the boat shifted suddenly. "Elrond, mellon-nin, how are you feeling?" He grasped the Peredhel free hand firmly. Slowly, silver eyes focused on him. In his long life, Erestor could rarely recall being able to read his friend's thoughts and emotions. But as he concentrated on the dazed silver eyes, he felt Elrond's confusion. He could almost hear disparate melodies clashing dissonantly. Erestor had taken care of too many others under Elrond's careful tutelage over the years to let his worry show on his face. Instead, he gave a calm smile and spoke softly.
"Elrond, it is good to have you back among the waking world. You must be hungry. Can I get you anything?" Silver eyes lit with recognition.
"Erestor?" Elrond croaked, his throat dry.
"Good morning," Erestor said wryly because it was already mid-day. But there was no need to worry the weary elf. "Welcome back." When Elrond did not respond, he continued slowly. "How are you feeling?" He squeezed Elrond's hand and watched nervously as he waited for his friend to take in everything. He resolved to alert Silsilalda that Elrond was possibly having chest pains. Perhaps this was due to the stretching of his bonds to his family, which were expected to weaken when sailing; however, they were only a few days from the havens, and such effects were usually reported once ships entered the straight path.
"Thirsty," came Elrond's soft reply.
"Well that is easily remedied. Can I help you to sit up?" At Elrond's nod, he helped him to swing his legs over the side of the cot and sit up. Elrond's face had lost all color at the simple movement – but that was to be expected after such a long sleep. "These flimsy sailors' cots are only good for lying down. Come, sit at the table. I am sure Gwidian will be here soon with food." Erestor was happy to see some color return to Elrond's cheeks. They rose and crossed the room to where a small table was fastened securely to the wall. Erestor poured a cup of water for his friend and then moved to get the thermos that Silsilalda had left with the healing draught. Elrond gulped the water greedily, his parched lips welcoming the refreshment. Once he finished, Erestor refilled his glass with the healing draught. Elrond lifted the glass but paused before bringing it to his lips.
"Frodo," he whispered. His eyes glinted with concern as the memory came back. "Is Frodo alright?" Erestor reached over and squeezed the hand that lay on the table.
"Frodo is fine." Erestor said definitively. "You and Galadriel protected him from harm. How could you sense the danger when Mithrandir, Uinen and Ossë did not?"
"They helped." Elrond recalled slowly. "Galadriel and I have been fighting this enemy for two ages. We sensed it sooner."
"But they did not detect it early enough." Erestor tried to hide his displeasure, but Elrond sensed it nonetheless and gave him a small smile.
"Peace Erestor. We elves still have our abilities and powers. We must rejoice that we could prevent Frodo from suffering further injury. He has been through more than enough. The darkness that sought to injure him has departed." Elrond frowned slightly. "Though I must admit the end is somewhat hazy to me." A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Gwidian came in bearing a tray with food.
"Elrond, it is good to see you awake." She smiled as she brought the tray over. Gwidian gave her husband a pointed look. Erestor silently agreed to switch the conversation to lighter topics.
"The Valar Ulmo appeared and took the darkness away." Erestor laid his hand gently on Elrond's arm. For the Peredhel had begun to tremble ever so slightly. "He was well pleased with your efforts and with Galadriel. But let us dwell no more on those issues. We are sailing West to where many eagerly await us." He passed Elrond the plate with cheese and the last of the fresh strawberries from Mithlond.
"I wonder if we could develop a way to transport fruit without it spoiling or at least keep things fresh for longer?" Erestor smiled. "I know many who would love to have ripe berries for more of our trip."
"Perhaps there is a way to combine some of the different methods used in Imladris, Gondor, and the Havens." Elrond postulated. They were soon discussing some of the more exciting innovations that they had seen on their last journey to Gondor. Gwidian's eyes glinted in amusement as she listened to what the two Ellyn observed in Gondor. She interjected at points, for as a female, characterized by the Gondorians as one of Arwen's 'handmaids,' she had been able to access different parts of the citadel that were off-limits to the visiting 'royalty.'
"What is so amusing?" Elrond turned to her.
"It is amazing how differently we all see the world." Gwidian would have elaborated, but Silsilalda entered.
"Good day, my Lord. It is good to see you awake." The healer placed a small tray with salves and powders on the table. "May I examine you?" She held her hands out. Elrond paused, then turned to Erestor and Gwidian.
"Please grant us some privacy." He said softly, though it was clear that they were being politely dismissed. Gwidian rose and gathered the empty dishes. Erestor gave a slight bow.
"Rest and recover Mellon-nin," Erestor said before exiting the room.