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On the ephemeral beauty of mortals

Summary:

Aegnor and Carnister reflect on their mortal loves while in the Halls. They say time heals all wounds, but does it really?

Whumptober - A light at the end of the tunnel

Notes:

E·phem·er·al
/əˈfem(ə)rəl/
1. Adjective - Lasting for a very short time.

No. 31 A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL
Comfort | Bedside Vigil | “You can rest now.”

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Aegnor had not left his post at the threshold of the mortal section of the Halls. He knew he would never see Andreth again, at least not in this world. That didn’t mean that wasn’t going to stop sitting there and waiting for some glimpse of her or her world, however small. 

The other fëar avoided him for the most part. Finrod had come eventually and sat next to Aegnor for a little while. But he had left the Halls after a short stay. Angrod drifted by occasionally, but he never stopped for long. He was too restless to stay put, but he also refused to leave the Halls while Aegnor remained. 

Aegnor sat there for what felt like ages, but it was hard to tell for sure. He could feel the mortal souls flowing passed him, but he could not see them. They always entered the Halls and then passed straight through them to this door. This was as far as the fëa of the Eldar were allowed to go. 

The only exception had been a silvery Maia-like fëa that accompanied Námo once beyond the doors. They were only gone for a brief moment before Námo returned with two barely visible mortal fëar in tow. Aengor had never been able to figure out what that was about, not that he had devoted much thought to it. 

He sat there grieving for his lost love and the joy he would never know. He also tried to wrestle with his own feelings. He had truly given his heart to Andreth, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t feel the pain of not being with his parents. 

Sometimes his grief fueled shorts bursts of panic and desperation where he clawed at the door, frantically trying to find a way through. He never succeeded. It only left his spirit raw and aching. He knew he would be sitting there alone forever. 

He was completely unprepared when his least favorite cousin drifted from the shadows to press against the other lintel of the threshold. 

Caranthir’s fëa was worn colorless and thin. Namo had ripped the remaining portion of the Oath away from his soul, leaving most of the edges frayed. He looked pitiful as he huddled opposite of Aegnor.  

“Carnister?” Aegnor eventually called. 

Caranthir’s head shot up. 

“Aiko?” he managed to choke out, voice weak and tired. 

“Yeah, it’s me. We make a fine pair. What are you doing here?” Aegnor asked. 

“Nothing. What are you doing here?” Caranthir demanded as defensive as ever. 

“Waiting,'' Aegnor said wistfully. 

The air grew warm as another mortal fëa passed by unseen to join Ilútivar. 

“Waiting? Waiting for what?” Caranthir squinted. 

“My heart, my love,” Aegnor sighed.

Aegnor fully expected to be mocked. He wasn't. 

“Oh,” Caranthir said softly, “Me too.”

Aegnor blinked. This was far more vulnerability than he had ever received from any of his cousins, let alone Caranthir. 

“Was she beautiful?” Aengor finally asked. 

“In her own way. She wasn’t beautiful like the Eldar, she was fierce and independent. When you made her mad, she would stumble over her words in the most adorable fashion,” Caranthir smiled slightly before sighing, “Was yours beautiful?” 

“She was, and wise too. She could give Findaráto a run for his money in philosophical debates,” Aegnor laughed fondly. 

There was a long stretch of silence between the two cousins during which two more mortal souls passed the door. 

“How did you lose her?” Caranthir finally asked. 

Aegnor closed his eyes in pain. He almost couldn't answer the simple question. 

“Aráto advised me not to pursue her. He said it would never work because she was mortal and I wasn't. I was the fool to let her go and now I have lost her,” Aegnor's voice was thick with emotion, “What about you?”

“She died in my arms. I lost her and our daughter in one night,” Caranthir swallowed thickly, “The Edain body is not meant for pregnancy. They are too fragile. The baby came three months too early. The healers couldn’t stop her bleeding. She died shortly after the birth.”

“The baby?” Aegnor almost didn’t want to know. 

“She died not an hour after her mother,” Caranthir's voice was barely audible.  

“I’m sorry. What was her name?” 

“Annitya, my little gift. I looked for her in the Halls, but I can not find her,” Caranthir admitted, turning his face away. 

It wasn’t hard to guess that he was crying. 

Aegnor slumped against the door. Undoubtedly he had felt those two fëar pass him by at some point, but he didn’t know which ones they were. 

“I am going to find them again, some day,” Caranthir eventually said with a shaky voice. 

“I tell myself that everyday,” Aegnor smiled sadly. 

Caranthir and Aegnor spent their time together at the door. Their refusal to heal was concerning to Námo. His Halls began to empty out and still they remained. Even stubborn Angrod and scarred Maedhros had left, having healed long ago. It was clear that these two would remain here for all of time to wait. 

Finally, Námo took matters into his own hands. He went to the door where they sat and crouched before them.

“Little ones, why do you wait? Don't you want to go home?” he asked gently.  

Neither fëa answered, too exhausted and grieved to fully comprehend the questions. Námo sighed. He knew that they would find no healing in his Halls. 

Ever so gently, Námo took them by the hand. They floated listlessly next to him. Námo then led them through the door that they had spent five ages of the world wishing to walk through. The change in attitude was indescribable. For the first time since their arrival, the fëar felt at peace. Námo led them through the mortal courts to the doors that lead to the Circle outside the world where Ilútivar dwelt. 

With a tremor of excitement, the two fëar went through and vanished from the world. Námo stood there for a little while. 

“I will tell your families that you are happy again and that they will see you once more, eventually,” he promised gravely before he turned around to go back to his throne room.

Notes:

I found this in my WIP fold. I have no idea when I wrote it, but hey, here it is anyway...

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