2: The Beauty of the Night

I remember little of those first days of Life. My hröa proved uncooperative and all had to be done for me, which I found truly embarrassing. Tindomerel and Olórin, however, treated me with nothing but love and respect, pooh-hooing my distress, reminding me that I was newly Reborn and such were the natural consequences of having been long separated from a physical body. Those first days are a blur, for in truth there was little for me to do but lie there and try to make the necessary connections between my hröa and my fëa and the endless monotony of those days have made it impossible for me to separate out one event from another.

What I recall most clearly, though, is my first experience with night....

****

Finrod was surprised to find that he had slept for most of the first day of his new life, Tindomerel rousing him every once in a while to sip on some broth or water. When he woke completely, the sun was shining through the window of the small one-room cottage that apparently was now his home, at least for a time. He still could not move except to turn his head ever so slightly. He found himself staring into the eyes of another Maia.

"Ah, you’re awake. Good, good. Tindomerel told me you might not remember me. So, let me introduce myself. I am Olórin of the People of Manwë, though I occasionally help Lord Námo out from time to time."

The Maia smiled warmly and Finrod blinked. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but again, the memory proved elusive and he was left with a gnawing sense of frustration. It must have registered somehow in his expression, for Olórin leaned down and brushed a hand through his hair, the motion soothing and familiar. Finrod could feel himself grow calmer with every stroke.

"No need to worry, child," the Maia said gently. "The memories will come when they will. Do not force them." He straightened up and patted the ellon on the head in a paternal manner. "Now, after I’ve cleaned you up, I’ll give you some breakfast."

For the next hour or so (Finrod had some difficulty still in gauging the passage of time), Olórin busied himself with washing him and tending to his other personal needs, slipping a clean nightshirt over his frame. When it was time to eat, the Maia helped him to sit up. Olórin brought forth a steaming bowl of porridge and started to spoon-feed him. Finrod, however, eyed the spoon and its contents with some suspicion and refused to open his mouth.

"Come now, child," the Maia said in an amused tone, "I know your memory is somewhat suspect at the moment, but I doubt me that you’ve completely forgotten about eating. Open up, now. That’s it."

Finrod reluctantly let Olórin push the spoon into his mouth and then he felt his eyes widen as the warm sensation of the porridge slid down his throat. He found himself trembling with overwhelming delight and when the Maia offered a second spoonful, he opened his mouth as wide as he could manage, eager to experience this new sensation again, demanding with his eyes for Olórin to hurry up with the next spoonful.

Olórin laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Easy now, young Findaráto. There’s no need to rush. Take it slowly. Your body still must get used to the idea of food and we don’t want you to be sick."

Finrod wasn’t sure what the Maia was talking about and didn’t care. He only wanted the wonderful sensation to go on and on. He was rather disappointed when the bowl was finally empty and Olórin stood up.

"That’s enough for now, my friend," he said, giving the ellon a fond smile. "We don’t want to overdo it your first time. Now, why don’t you see if you can move a finger or wiggle your toes. The sooner you start working at the connections the sooner you’ll be out of that bed."

Finrod sighed and leaned back into his pillows and concentrated on moving the index finger of his right hand. It was slow, tedious work and he felt sweat beading down his face with the effort. In the end though, nothing moved and his disappointment and frustration was great. When, some hours later, Olórin brought him some soup and bread for his second meal, he did not even want to eat, lost as he was in misery.

"Now, now," the Maia chided gently. "It’s going to take time. Have some of this soup. You need to build up your strength. I’m sure by tomorrow things will be different."

So he dutifully ate the soup, which in its own way was just as delicious as the porridge he had eaten earlier. By the time he was finished, he was in a better frame of mind. He was feeling tired now and as Olórin took away the tray, he settled down and fell asleep.

When he woke again it was dark. There was no light anywhere and he started to panic, screaming in terror, though he did not understand why, and so his terror was increased with the not knowing. Suddenly, two Maiar were with him and a bedside candle was lit, but still he screamed and began thrashing about, unable or unwilling to hear them calling to him, trying to calm him. Finally, Olórin scooped him out of the bed, covers and all, and strode out of the cottage.

Almost at once, his screaming stopped as he found himself gazing in wonder up into the velvety blackness of night to see small twinkling lights. He was not sure what they were but their beauty, beyond anything he could remember experiencing before, seemingly untouched by the small doings of those in Arda, smote him and he could not take his eyes off them.

"Ah..." he heard Olórin say. "Do you remember the stars, child?"

Stars. Those were stars. Oh, he was so delighted to know what they were. He wasn’t sure if he remembered them, but it didn’t matter. He knew of them now. He lay quiescent in the Maia’s arms, his eyes constantly moving as he gazed adoringly at the twinkling lights above him. He heard their remote, cold song, and a tremor swept through him. Something deep within him struggled to burst forth and with great effort (though he was not conscious of it) he tried to speak.

"E...el...nee...." His voice sounded odd, hoarse, as if long unused and his tongue felt thick and uncooperative, but he spoke and the Maia understood.

"Very good," Olórin said, giving him a pleased smile. "That’s very good. You see? You’re making progress already. Few are able to speak so soon after re-embodiment. Yes, my dear Elf. Eleni. Can you say it again? El...en...ee." The Maia enunciated the word slowly and clearly.

"El...nee...."

He frowned, knowing he had not said the word correctly, but the effort to speak before had left him feeling faint and dizzy. He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling defeated.

"That’s all right, child," Olórin said gently. "We’ll work on it tomorrow. Now, would you like to stay out here and watch the stars for a little while longer?"

Finrod opened his eyes and gurgled something that the Maia took as a ‘yes’. Olórin looked up and Finrod now sensed the presence of another. Turning his head slightly, he saw it was Tindomerel.

"Bring his bed out here, would you?" Olórin asked his fellow Maia. "It looks as if our latest Reborn wishes to become better acquainted with the stars."

Tindomerel smiled and went to do as Olórin bade. In minutes his sleeping couch was being placed outside, near the door. Olórin placed him back into bed, plumping the pillows and rearranging the covers. All the while, Finrod lay there, staring up into the heavens, a contented smile on his face.

He did not fall asleep again until the last star had faded from sight and Anar rose in glorious splendor to announce the new day.

****

Fëa: (Quenya) Spirit, soul.

Ellon: (Eldarin) Male Elf.

Eleni: (Quenya) Plural of elen: Star.