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Námo stood by the mithril-bound doors of his Halls, which opened only to admit the fëar of the dead. His elf-braided hair was crowned with asphodels, and his light of being shone brightly, but not as brightly as did that of the One who stood next to him.
Clad in purest white, the Man embraced the Vala, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Thou knowest what thou must do, my best beloved child. Rejoice that this day has come. I look forward to the day that we are all united in the Timeless Halls when all of My Themes are accomplished."
Námo reveled to be held in the arms of Love as he had never been before, for not even before the creation of Eä had Atar held him as an incarnate, and the feel of the arms around him comforted and strengthened him for the work that he had now to do.
Filled with Joy unmeasured, he stepped back from the embrace and turned towards the doors. "It is time," Námo said, and pushed the panels open to Light and Life, and bowed as the Resurrected Lord departed the Halls of the Dead on the Third Day.
A/N: This is the other half of Resurrection, which actually was in my head as a mental image long before that ficlet made itself known to me. I guess I needed the first part to make this part come clear in my head as words. He is Risen! Rejoice!
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