She saw him shiver as he surveyed the scene. Music sung in his mind – powerful and burning.
"It is a memory. Let it go." She was by his side instantly as he sank onto the sand, his hand held up as if to ward away a blow. The wind around them whistled with the strong melody of the Maia. It was part of his soul straining against the confines of his fëa. The Elven and Edain songs were much weaker, and each moved in its rhythm, pulling apart from what was once a single enterprise. The Edain song rushed ahead of the measured elven beat. "Meleth-nin, stay with me. Focus on my voice and my heart." She sank beside him on the sand. She knew that this was a dream and somehow not. The Valar sculpted this place, yet there was danger here, too. Bright light engulfed them, and she shielded her eyes. Her heart quailed for the Vala that appeared before them was not one to whom she wanted to lose Elrond.
"Child, do not hide from me." Namo bent to grasp Elrond's hands in his own. Golden light seared them. "The binding theme is much weakened." Namo sang in a deep voice, a song that bound them with such a deep and unfathomable love that it evoked tears from both elves kneeling before him. The dark Vala moved to pull something out of his robes, a thin silver circlet with three blue stones, which he slipped on Elrond's forehead before he kissed him.
"My Lord Namo," Elrond gasped in recognition. He moved to pay obeisance, but the Vala would have none of it.
"Take your time," Namo said seriously, then added almost as a humorous aside. "I would not like to see another Peredhel in Mandos. When they do heed my call, they are far too difficult to get rid of."
"I tried to help." Celebrian's voice was soft and rough and tears still streamed down her cheeks.
"You have exposed your own fëa to danger." Namo focused on the silver elf-maiden for a moment. His keen eyes saw deep into the soul before him.
"I could do no less. I will not lose my beloved." Celebrian shivered at the insight that blossomed and bent to wrap her arms around her husband.
"I am fine now, my heart." Elrond whispered to her. But Celebrian's fear did not abate, and she found the courage to voice it to Vala.
"If his fëa unravels, he may not come to your halls. He might be lost like his uncles." Anger hung in the air around Namo as if someone or something took great offense at her words.
"Do you have it within you to fight like this Elleth for her family?" Namo's words were not meant for Celebrian. Yet, he did, in effect, address her statement. "Not quite like his uncles. Their spirits are intact yet hidden in the wind." Namo turned to address the spirit that hovered just out of sight.
"Your sons sat wounded and terrified in snow colored red with blood. They fled from their enemies just as they fled from my call. They still hide in the Wind's song, too frightened to join in life again." The air next to the Vala shimmered as it emanated anger and disappointment. Elrond and Celebrian watched with dawning knowledge.
"Is it not the same with their Adar? You hide in Mandos when you could rejoin the living." Namo addressed the clandestine spirit again.
"You cannot help your sons. But do you remember your daughter? And will you not help your grandson?" Namo's voice was gentle yet cajoled the wayward spirit. "Do you not wish to rejoin this world? Can you not remember what it was to exist in bodily form?" A wispy white, almost cloud-like entity grew above Namo's shoulder. Namo raised one hand towards it. His other hand still held Elrond's firmly. Then, as the Vala rose, the soft white form settled before Elrond. Celebrian watched as her husband reached out with one hand towards the light. The light mingled with the bright part of Elrond's healing power, tinged slightly turquoise with remnants of Vilya. The ghost seemed to bristle at the exchange.
"Leave …. Stay away."It warned.
"One needs to want to be healed." Namo said gently.
"No body … no healing."The spirit shimmered.
"Souls can be wounded, too, as I have too often experienced," Elrond said gently as he studied the faint but glimmering presence. The outline was growing more focused.
"Not alike…. Not like you."The mysterious presence was content in its solitude.
"Maybe we are more alike than you know." Elrond realized that the Lord of Mandos would only have brought them together if they might be able to help each other.
"Those who stay too long in my halls often lose their will to return." Namo explained gently. "Do you have no memory of life before, Dior?"
"Well, met Dior." Elrond and Celebrian called nearly in unison. The female voice startled Dior. Namo let more of his power flow, endowing the phantom with faint features.
"Nimloth?"The phantom focused on Celebrian.
"Do you remember Nimloth? It has been far too long." Namo enticed him further. "Both of you vow to wait until the other consents to leave my halls. Your circular argument has no end." Silence met Namo's words. "You spent but nine years in marital bliss."
"Nimloth?"The spirit's one word was stronger now, filled with longing.
"She sleeps in forgetfulness yet," Namo said gently, then continued for Elrond and Celebrian. "She remembered the fall, then pushed the memories away. The horror was too much to bear. So many in my halls chose not to come forth as it means they must remember. "
"How can we help?" Elrond was immediately concerned. The spirit seemed drawn again towards him as if it were probing his spirit. Namo released Elrond's hand so that the Peredhel spirits could mingle. "You are not alone, Dior. You are not the only Peredhel." The presence that was Dior seemed indignant at first, but curiosity overcame it, and as if against its nature, it moved closer to Elrond. Feelings swelled around them: surprise and shock, anger and longing.
"Will you not help them, Dior? Will you not reclaim your existence and come forth from my halls?" Namo words were more orders than questions. Suddenly, Celebrian sensed the spirit's consent. Then power flowed from the Vala in golden rays, which illuminated the air beside him. The brilliant light fashioned a figure whose perfect alabaster features were topped with silken black hair. This could only be the famed Dior Eluchil, the beautiful son of Lúthien and Beren. The brightness of his spirit was such that Celebrian had to shade her eyes. Yet, an unmistakable resemblance existed between Elrond and this ghostly figure that reached to touch Elrond's hands.
"You? Healer?" Dior was not used to interacting with others. Celebrian watched in fear as Elrond's eyes fluttered shut. She felt him sharing memories with this being and moved to support him with her fëa.
"I always felt the Healing Arts were my calling." Elrond divulged mind to mind.
"I am no healer." Dior released Elrond's hands and turned away as memories stirred. "My fault."
"That is not how I heard it." Elrond said softly. Celebrian agreed.
"You know not." Dior scoffed.
"My parents were both there." Celebrian's voice was filled with sympathy. "You were in council and were considering options." Her voice trailed off at the memory of her Adar's anguished tale.
"I doubt any decision could have forestalled the tragedy." Namo's voice held certainty. "They may have been driven mad by the knowledge that they could no longer touch the jewel." Namo waited for Dior to digest these words. "It is in the past, Penneth. All this has been over for a long time. None of the Fëanorians can hurt your loved ones. Come, it is far past time to embrace life again." Dior sat down again and gripped Elrond's hands with his own. Songs flowed around them, each with its rhythm. Dior was surprised at the cacophony.
"Did not your Naneth teach you to combine your songs?" The strength of Dior's spirit was such that it evoked a picture of a precocious child and the lovely Lúthien before her very eyes.
"You were blessed with Lúthien far longer than Elrond and his twin were blessed with Elwing."
"Elwing!" Dior startled at his daughter's name, then lamented. "I barely taught her. She was only three when they came."
"He learned not from Elwing, having lost her too early," Namo said gently. "Your sons had even less time with their Adar." Sorrow, deep and keening, wailed on the wind. Namo paused until the sound died away and then continued in soothing tones.
"But how did you survive?" Dior picked up Elrond's hands again.
"There was," but Elrond paused, realizing Dior knew nothing of the ages that had passed while in Mandos. "Ever did I seek in nature the remnants of the Ainulindalë to help restore and refresh my spirit. Yet, hurts from war and toil have taken their toll."
"Remnants of the Ainulindalë in nature," Dior repeated, his voice soft with memory. Yes, they echo through the world. But that balance is without, and what you should seek is within. Focus on the theme of the melodies." Celebrian held her breath as Dior bent forward, then gasped as she felt Lord Namo's voice in her head.
"You must focus on the memories of his song in balance. They reside in your memories and are templated by your spirit as much as he holds you in his. In this act, together we will initiate his healing."Namo's voice gave her courage and strength. Together, they would heal Elrond's spirit, and in helping and teaching, Dior, a soul who had lost the will to return to life, would also find renewal.
Xxxxxxxxx Pelori Mountains xxxxxxxxxX
The cowering fëa was tantalizingly near. Its power reeked sickly sweet like the scent of lily blossoms in the air. Drool leaked from its mouth, and its talons twitched in anticipation of the coming meal. The brethren already feasted on the bodies of the birds ripped with such methodical and satisfying precision from the sky. Four of them had been sent to watch and wait. The prize had come, just as the master had predicted. He bent to tear a piece of warm flesh from the bloodied bird caught in its talons. Others would join them soon. Fear and horror emanated from the briar patch. He chewed slowly, the meal satisfying physical hunger and inducing horror and fear in the prey that cowered close by. Ah, such bliss to bask in his prey's anguish even as he enjoyed the conquered foes' flesh. The prize was close now. So! The Peredhel had inherited enough to shapeshift into a bird. A surprising twist! But it would not help it now. Joy burgeoned as he ripped another mouthful of food off the carcass, the feeling bursting outward as a pebble dropped in the water, sending waves rippling outward. His prey gagged. The sound sent glee coursing through him. A drop of Maiar blood! It could sense the song – a strange, nearly psychic connection that Maiar had in common. In his brethren, the song and its link were weak. Not so in his spirit! He turned towards the thicket, taking a step closer as the blood trickled cool down its chin.
"I will rip your spirit like this. You will be a satisfying feast after this small appetizer." He laughed low and menacingly. "You cannot escape."
Xxxxxxxx On the Vingilot xxxxxxxxX
The ship rose quickly and departed straight over Alqualondë. Its speed spoke of the fear that clouded Eärendil's heart. The wind whistled fast around the protective barrier that kept a blanket of air around the ship. Ahead lay the shadows of the Pelori. Somewhere beyond, Elwing had been waylaid. Archers whispered in fear and awe.
"Will arrows pass through the barriers?"
"I know not the Valar's design," Ecthelion responded when Eärendil stared out towards the mountains, obviously worried about other things. "But during the War of Wrath, arrows were not the only things fired from the deck at the enemy." Taendae, who had sailed with Eärendil during the War of Wrath, spoke of the catapults specially designed for the airship and long since dismantled.
"Yet, though dragon fire was only partly blunted by the barrier. Some of our numbers were burned." Taendae put a hand on his Lord's shoulder. All hoped never to see such a battle again.
"Please let her be well. Dear Elbereth, please watch over Elwing."Eärendil prayed as he and Ecthelion positioned Galathil's archers. Whatever foes lurked in the Pelori, they would be prepared to meet. The crew was single-minded in their quest. Eärendil and Ecthelion scanned the horizon with the naked eye and through the telescope. It was Eärendil who spied the first sign of trouble looming. At first, black smoke seemed to dance strangely in the distance towards the east. But as they drew closer, it was a battle. Two great eagles screeched as their talons and razor-sharp beaks battled a slew of only slightly smaller black raptors.
"Galathil, direct your archers." Eärendil's words had been anticipated, for archers were already poised on the starboard side.
"Have care for the eagles," Galathil shouted and aimed his bow. The first rally took only one down. The raptors heeded the ship's approach with unanticipated maneuvers. Great shrieks of anger echoed. An eagle dived sharply, two raptors nearly on his back.
"Eleven left." Galathil pointed. "Rear guard, aid the eagle below!" The archers split into three groups, each trying to track a different group of raptors.
"There is at least one on the ground." Ecthelion scanned the forest below them to assess what threat might lurk on the ground. Five raptors broke their pursuit and swung directly for the Vingilot's deck. Their swift pace and sudden dive broke through the invisible barrier that blanketed the ship.
"Archers! Keep them at bay." Eärendil shouted. His sailors pulled swords from crumbling sheaths. Sharp claws deflected several arrows, though archers quickly pulled more from their quivers as the crew wielded long blunt swords towards their flying foes. Whatever barrier Oromë and Manwë fashioned during the War of Wrath had long since crumbled, too, giving their foes free passage down onto the deck.
"Aye! Elbereth!" Sharp claws ripped Taendae's back, before the archers brought it down. No less than five arrows pierced its dark hide before it fell to its death.
"Loose!" Galathil was directed his archers. Another raptor fell, slamming into the deck with a sickening crunch. Ecthelion smote it with his sword. "Loose!" Another volley sent a third raptor plummeting downward. A horn deep and powerful sounded off their port side, leaving little doubt that the Great Hunter approached. The remaining raptors turned from the vessel, regrouping with their brethren below. One eagle battled the raptors, which sought to make an end to its fallen companion. The great horn rang deafeningly, drowning out the shrieks of the fighters. Two raptors emerged from the brush below. Their cries mingled with the others as Galathil urged his archers on. The raptors rose, realizing now that they were outnumbered. They took to the air, feeling east as below, the ground shook with the Oromë's riders. The bows of Oromë and his huntsman rang out, bringing death to yet more of the black enemies, as one shrieked in anger and dived single-minded to target the rider on the end.
"Elbereth!" Ecthelion breathed. The raptor was clearly intent on skewering the rider, yet at the last minute, a swift arrow from the Hunter himself deflected it from its intended target. The black shape fell dead at the rider's feet.
"I am in your debt yet again, my Lord." The Rider turned and bowed as the others took stock of the area.
"Have any escaped?" Oromë called. Based on the riders' replies, Ecthelion thought they had successfully countered this threat.
"Two eluded us." Eärendil called down. "They fled east at your horn's first call." Oromë curse was in no language they recognized.
"Wait, Nahar," Oromë jumped off his great steed onto the ground stained with the blood of egrets and raptors. Dark carcasses of the giant raptors lay near an eagle. Another of the great eagles landed, obviously worried about his kin. Oromë motioned one of his folk forward as he spoke to the eagle. The Hunter and horseman moved to examine the fallen bird. Then Oromë stepped back and waved up at the Vingilot.
"Eärendil, set down in the waters due west. Then come join us in the hunt."
"As you decree." Eärendil agreed, with his hand over his heart in the sign of fealty, though his whole being quaked in fear at what might await them below. Ecthelion stepped forward to place his hand on his friend's shoulder. They exchanged a grim glance before Eärendil shouted the order to their crew. It took little time for the ship to descend, landing on the crystal-clear waters of the mountain lake. Two of Oromë's warriors, Maiar, met them at the shore.
"Have they found her?" Eärendil asked as they stepped ashore.
"Nay, but the trees spoke of her transformation. My Lord awaits you. I shall stand guard with those you deem to leave here." The golden Maiar bowed, and his companion motioned them forward. Eärendil signaled to the Galathil, who summoned half his archers. Then Eärendil, Ecthelion, and some of the archers from Doriath followed the Maia through the forest while much of the crew remained to guard the Vingilot. All were alert for signs of the enemy, not wanting to be taken unaware.
"Our enemy betrays their presence with some of the Maiar songs. Fear not; we can detect it," the Maiar said. For Eärendil, the statement held little comfort. For now, his heart told him that his wife had also sensed their approach yet she had little opportunity to flee. Four huntsmen overtook them on the path, carrying a great eagle on a makeshift stretcher between them. Large claw gouges and long scratches on the eagle were crudely bandaged.
"We have healing supplies on deck," Eärendil offered. The huntsmen nodded but did not slow their pace. Galathil and Eärendil hurried up the path to the clearing where Oromë stood singing. His low and deep voice seemed to swell around them. They waited until he paused.
"My Lord Oromë?" Eärendil stepped forward. The Valar towered over him.
"She is near and yet lives. But she will not heed my call." Oromë turned to look out into the distance, towards the highest peak—Mount Taniquetil.
"She will not heed your call?" Eärendil repeated dumbly. Yet, Oromë did not respond. It was as if he was talking beyond their hearing. "Can he speak to Manwë from here? Taniquetil is so far away." Eärendil thought. Abruptly, Oromë turned.
"The young twins – Eluréd and Elurín also disregarded a call of the Valar."
"They did not heed Mandos' call." Eärendil gasped. "Yet, you said Elwing lived yet."
"Yes, though not for long, if she continues to conceal herself from us." Oromë motioned towards the tall tree. "He says the raptor injured a blindingly white egret. The bird swooned, dropping as if in free fall. Yet, she never hit the ground. She disappeared in a flash of light." Eärendil bowed thanks to the tree as he processed the Valar's words.
"She shifted her being, her shape." He realized. Yet, as far as he knew, Elwing could only assume her own shape or that of a bird.
"So, it would seem."
"Yet, where?"
"She is veiled, hidden in nature. Yet, the raptor's talons have a poison that stuns and disables." He pointed towards the briar patch. There were clear signs that the raptors sought to make inroads into the prickly brush.
"The eagle?"
"He will recover, though we will transport him to Lórien." Eärendil looked towards the other eagle, watching them silently, as one of the hunters dressed his wounds. "Tell us where your wife is." Oromë directed.
"How would I know?" Eärendil looked up in shock.
"Surely, you know her song. A wife's spirit is entwined with her husband. I can feel Vána presence if she were as close as Taniquetil."
"But you are of the Valar." Eärendil paled as his guilt assailed him. "I have not forged such a bond with Elwing. As a husband, I have failed her."
"She is here, likely in the briar," Ecthelion whispered as he laid a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "Can you hear the whispers of the trees? Come, you need to call her to assure her it is safe."
"I know not how," Eärendil whispered. His friend's shocked look slowly turned to a look of sorrow, which Eärendil interpreted as pity. Yet, it was Ecthelion who took his hand.
"Close your eyes and remember the time before you were possessed by the Silmaril. Remember your song from early in your courtship, from the first days of your marriage. This is what you should focus on." Eärendil silently prayed to Elbereth before he closed his eyes and followed Ecthelion's directions. A song swelled in his heart, and then a power, not of his making, swept through him. It was Oromë's power, he realized. Oromë projected the song that swelled in his memory. It grew and echoed around the clearing, and just as it began to die away, a soft song began in answer.
"Elwing!" He reached out. Bright white light accumulated around his hands. The light seemed to slip from trees and plants, from the briar and the grass, from all around them.
"Clever daughter of Dior." Oromë complimented. "Clever, but so very dangerous. No wonder you could elude both your enemies and your allies." A bright light flashed, and Elwing moaned and fell into his arms. The back of her dress was torn along its length and stained bright red with her blood.
"Quickly, Eärendil, we need to treat her wounds."