56: Words of Comfort from a Reborn

Felicity turned onto Evergreen and Valandur directed her to the correct house. She didn’t bother to pull into the driveway but stopped in front of it while Valandur and Alex got out.

“Thank you,” Valandur said politely, leaning in to speak to her. Alex just stood staring at the house, ignoring them. He had sat quietly in the back and had refused to speak the entire time.

“Not a problem,” Felicity said cheerily, and then dropped her voice, glancing worriedly at Alex with his back turned to her. “Good luck,” she whispered to Valandur, who nodded, then straightened and closed the door. Felicity waved as she drove off.

Valandur turned to Alex, taking him by the elbow. “Come,” he said softly and led him to the front door, which opened before they reached it, and Ercassë greeted them.

“Ron’s waiting in his office,” she told them. “Here, Alex, I’ll take your coat and your bag.”

But while Alex was willing to relinquish his coat to the elleth, he clung to the bag and Valandur just smiled while Ercassë looked more troubled. At that moment, Vorondur stepped out of his office, apparently having heard them come in and came forward, gauging Alex’s condition.

“Perhaps some tea would be in order,” he said quietly to Ercassë, who nodded.

“I’ll go make some,” and she left them to themselves.

“Let’s go in my office,” Vorondur said, “and you can tell me what happened.”

But when they entered the office and found seats, Alex remained silent and the two Elves spoke quietly about other matters. Ercassë came in several minutes later and Valandur made to leave with her, wishing to give Alex and Vorondur privacy, but Alex grabbed his arm.

“Don’t leave me alone,” he begged, speaking for the first time since leaving his office.

Valandur glanced at Vorondur, whose expression was carefully neutral, but at his nod, Valandur resumed his seat. Alex did not release his hold on his arm, though. Ercassë smiled at her husband. “Let me know if you need anything,” she said, bending down to give Vorondur a kiss, which he returned. Then she was gone. For a long moment, no one spoke, but finally Vorondur looked at Valandur and said, “Perhaps you could explain what has happened.”

“We were at Alex’s office. He was working on an assignment for one of his linguistics classes. Three poems had to be analyzed.” He turned to Alex. “Show him the poems.”

Alex hesitated for a moment before opening the bag and rifling through the papers, pulling several out and handing them to Vorondur, who gave them a cursory glance. “Interesting choice of poems,” he commented. “What’s the Old English one about?”

“You can’t read it?” Alex asked in surprise.

Vorondur gave him an amused smile. “Just as I cannot read Egyptian hieroglyphics or Finnish. I may have lived a long time, Alex, and have traveled over much of this world, but I have never mastered all the languages spoken or written, nor do I think any of us can. So, what is this poem about?”

“The instructor purposely did not offer a translation,” Valandur said, “and discouraged the students to look at one. He wanted them to be able to analyze the poem simply from what they could discover without knowing what it said. However, I was curious to know, so Alex found a translation of it online. I should have had it printed out but….”

“What is the poem?” Vorondur asked, turning to his computer.

“Beowulf,” Valandur replied.

Vorondur nodded and keyed a few strokes and then glanced at the screen, comparing what was there with the sheet in his hands. “A description of a mere,” he said.

“Not just any mere, Ron, but Grendel’s mere,” Valandur corrected.

“Ah, I see.” Vorondur said with a nod, giving Alex a searching look.

“And that is what apparently set Alex off,” Valandur said, “but I think he should be the one to tell you.”

Vorondur nodded, giving his attention to Alex. “Will you tell me?” he asked softly, leaning slightly toward the Mortal.

For a moment, Alex just sat there, staring at nothing in particular. Then, in a hoarse whisper he said simply, “I died.”

“But only for a few moments,” Vorondur pointed out. “You were brought back.”

Alex, however, wasn’t listening, too lost in the memory of dying. “It was so cold,” he whispered, “so cold and dark. I couldn’t see and I couldn’t breathe and I was afraid and…”

Valandur stood and pulled Alex out of his chair, holding him close. “Shh… it’s all right, child,” he said soothingly. “It’s over with. You’re safe and you’re alive.” He turned to Vorondur. “He’s trembling like a leaf.”

Vorondur stood up. “Try to get some tea down him,” he ordered as he opened the door and called to Ercassë, who came quickly. “We need some blankets that have been warmed,” he told her.

“I’ll throw a couple into the dryer for a few minutes,” she said.

Vorondur nodded as she ran off and he turned back to see Valandur attempting to get Alex to drink the tea while still holding him. “Here, I’ll do that,” Vorondur said, taking the cup from Valandur’s hand. “You just hold him.”

“I think he’s gone into shock,” Valandur offered.

“We may need to get him into a warm shower,” Vorondur replied. “This is no good.” He put the cup down, unable to get the Mortal to drink. “Here, let me have him. Alex, look at me,” he commanded, holding the Man’s head in his hands. “That’s it… it’s going to be all right. You’re safe and there is nothing to fear. Alex?”

Alex gave a small, mewling sound of distress and his eyes filled with tears as Vorondur held him close.

Ercassë came rushing in, carrying a couple of blankets. “Here you are.”

“Let’s wrap him in these,” Vorondur ordered. “If he doesn’t stop, we’ll try a warm shower.”

They wrapped Alex in the warmed blankets, even covering his head so only his face was exposed and tried again to get him to drink some tea, but he was either unable or unwilling. He sat in the chair huddled in the blankets but he continued trembling.

“I’ll go get the shower started,” Ercassë suggested and when Vorondur nodded she left.

“Can you manage?” Vorondur asked Valandur. “I’m going to call in some reinforcements.”

“Yes, I can manage,” Valandur assured him. “Come along, Alex. We’ll get you into a nice warm shower and that will help.” He pulled the Mortal out of the chair and led him away as Vorondur went to the phone on his desk and dialed a number.

“Aurora Borealis Bookstore,” someone said at the other end.

“Hello. This is Ron Brightman. Is Quinn there?”

“Just a moment.” There was a brief pause and then Finrod was on the other end.

“What is it Ron?” he asked.

“I have Alex here. He’s in a bad way. He was reminded of his death.”

“As Bregdal?”

“No, when he was at Winterdark Tarn.”

There was a brief pause at the other end. “It is impossible for me to leave the store at this time. I am assuming you wish someone who has experienced dying to speak with Alex?”

“Something like that,” Vorondur said. “Right now we’ve got him in a warm shower, trying to bring him out of his shock, but I think it would help him if he were able to speak to someone with a similar experience. Neither I nor Val, who is here, have that experience.”

“As I said, I cannot leave, and I know Glorfindel is also busy with matters having to do with the college, a meeting with the college president. Daeron is with him. One of the other Reborn would be willing to help, though.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Vorondur said. “I—”

“Ron! We need you!” he heard Valandur call out from upstairs.

Finrod apparently had heard him. “Go,” he said. “I will see who is available and send them straight over.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Vorondur hung up the phone and headed for the stairs, making his way to the bathroom where Valandur and Ercassë were attempting to disrobe a protesting Alex, who apparently was not sanguine about losing his clothes before an elleth. “I’m here,” Vorondur said. “Holly, I spoke to Finrod. He’s sending one of the Reborn over. Would you keep an eye out for whoever comes?”

“Of course,” Ercassë said and she gave them all a knowing smile before exiting, closing the door behind her.

“Okay, Alex, she’s gone. Now, no more nonsense,” Vorondur said firmly and Alex allowed the two ellyn to help him undress and then he was in the shower. After a few minutes, his teeth stopped chattering and then his muscles relaxed and he uttered a small moan of relief. Vorondur reached in to turn the shower off and Valandur helped Alex out, handing him a towel to dry himself off. In a few minutes he was dressed and the two Elves were leading him out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

“We’ll go back to my office and talk, okay?” Vorondur suggested.

Alex nodded but did not say anything. As they entered the office, they heard the front doorbell ring. A few minutes later, Ercassë was escorting Brethorn inside. The ellon gave them a bright smile.

“Did someone call for a Reborn?” he asked.

“That was fast,” Vorondur said. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to get here so soon.”

“Gilvegil was kind enough to give me a ride over when Finrod called. I just happened to be there when he did and I said I would come.”

“Where is Gil?” Vorondur asked. “He didn’t come all the way over here just to go back again, did he?”

“No, he’s in the kitchen getting some coffee,” Ercassë said. “He said he’ll wait.”

“Good,” Vorondur said. “Hopefully we won’t be too long.”

Ercassë gave him a peck on the cheek and left. Vorondur closed the door, quietly explaining to Brethorn what had happened. Brethorn nodded and went to crouch before Alex. Vorondur remained where he could see everything and watched, curious as to how Brethorn would handle this situation. Alex just sat there looking lost and alone. Valandur gave the Reborn a welcoming smile but otherwise did not speak.

Brethorn turned his attention to the Mortal. “Hello, Alex. My name is Brethorn, though I’ve adopted the name Brian. I understand you are upset by some memories about dying.”

Alex gave him an incurious look and Brethorn continued speaking in a nonchalant manner. “I was very upset when I began remembering how I died, too, upset and angry.”

Alex frowned slightly. “Why were you angry?”

Brethorn shrugged. “I just was, and to this day I cannot say if I was angry because I had died or because I was now alive.”

“How did you die?” Alex asked.

Brethorn shook his head. “In battle. I doubt there was much left of me to bury once the orcs were finished with me.”

Alex shivered and Brethorn immediately stood and pulled the Mortal up. “Look at me, Alex,” he said with grave authority. Vorondur watched as Alex reluctantly raised his gaze to meet Brethorn’s. “I died and after many centuries abiding in Mandos I now live. You died, for however briefly, but you are alive now. You need to concentrate on that and not on your death.”

“I… so much has happened since then,” Alex said in a monotone. “I didn’t want to think about it too closely.”

“That is certainly understandable,” Brethorn said with a nod.

“But then the poem… I know it’s not the same, but it reminded me of Winterdark Tarn and what lurks there and all of a sudden, I was back there, dying all over again.”

“Shh… Alex, stay calm,” Brethorn said. “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That’s it. There’s nothing to fear here. You’re safe. You’re alive. What lurks within the tarn cannot harm you even in spirit unless you allow it.”

Vorondur decided to intervene then, moving to join the others. “You never spoke of what happened there during our sessions and I didn’t press, hoping you would speak of it on your own. I think your reaction to the poem is a sign that you need to talk about it, to someone, if not to me.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Alex said. “No one would.”

“Except someone who’s undergone a similar experience, like Brian, or Finrod or Loren,” Vorondur pointed out. “They’ve all experienced dying, Beleg and Edrahil are also Reborn. Any one of them would understand even though each experienced death differently. I would not be offended if you choose to speak with someone else about it, but you do need to speak, Alex. You need to put that experience into perspective, just as we’ve been doing with other aspects of your life.”

“When I finally went to Lórien after being released from Mandos, I was amazed to meet people who knew exactly how I felt about having died, because they had done the same,” Brethorn said. “Being able to speak of it to others helped me to come to terms with what happened. I think Vorondur is correct. You do need to speak about it and I’m a very good listener. We all are.”

“If you feel uncomfortable speaking about it to all of us, we’ll leave you and Brian alone,” Vorondur suggested.

“No, that’s not necessary,” Alex insisted and sighed, rubbing his hand across his face. “I don’t think the scariest part was actually dying. I know I was panicking, trying to reach the surface so I could breathe but then something inside me just… let go and it didn’t seem to matter anymore. It was after.”

“When you found yourself facing Lord Námo,” Brethorn said.

Alex gave him a wide-eyed stare. “How did—?”

“Child, ask any Reborn and they will tell you that coming face-to-face with the Lord of Mandos was the most frightening part of the whole process. Nothing that happened before or after quite matches the terror one feels.”

“He asked me if I wanted to be saved,” Alex said, sounding perplexed. “I didn’t know what he meant by that. I still don’t.”

Brethorn lifted an eyebrow. “Ah, well, Lord Námo is known for his questionable sense of humor.”

Valandur snorted in agreement, which caused Alex to goggle at him. “Sorry, I’ve had my own run-ins with that particular Vala,” he said. “Questionable sense of humor doesn’t even begin to tell the story.” Then he sobered. “Alex, it’s obvious that your encounter with Lord Námo has upset you…”

“You mean encounters,” Alex interrupted heatedly. “Dude’s shown up as Nate three times while I’ve been in the café. I swear, I’m never eating there again, not when Death seems to be on the menu.”

“Now that’s just plain nonsense,” Brethorn protested with a disgusted huff. “Death is not on the menu and if it hadn’t been for Lord Námo you wouldn’t be here to complain about it. Let’s not descend into…ah…” He turned to Valandur, asking something in Quenya, but it was Vorondur who answered.

“Hyperbole is the word you’re looking for and you’re right. You are not the only person to whom Lord Námo has appeared as Nate, Alex. Let’s keep our focus on what is truly troubling you.”

“I don’t know why this is upsetting me so much,” Alex said with a sigh. “Hell, do you know how many times in the last fifteen years I’ve come close to death? My last assignment before coming to Wiseman, I was shot, right here.” He pointed to a spot just above his heart. “I managed to avoid dying by an inch. That didn’t upset me nearly as much as what happened at the tarn.”

“Because what happened at the tarn was outside your frame of reference,” Vorondur pointed out. “You were lured into that tarn by whatever sleeps there. None of us have any doubt about it, which is why it is imperative that you don’t return there, at least not alone. You weren’t just drowning, Alex. You were being attacked by Evil of a kind you’ve never encountered before. That Which Lurks Below was drawn to you by your own darkness. We’ve discussed this in previous sessions and you are learning to put that darkness behind you, but there will always be a residue of it clinging to your soul, as such darkness clings to all of us in one form or another.”

“Alex, I have little knowledge of Mortals and how they approach death, which is an inevitability for them in a way that it is not for us,” Brethorn said, “but I think what happened to you, while unique in some respects, is not so unique in others. I have heard of these near-death experiences which other Mortals have had.”

“I always viewed them with some skepticism,” Alex admitted, “but now….”

“But now, the shoe is on the other foot and you cannot claim ignorance,” Vorondur said.

“I think it would be helpful for you if you come back to Edhellond and speak with the other Reborn,” Brethorn suggested.

“I agree,” Vorondur said. “Would you like that, Alex? Would you like to speak with the others who have died and now walk among the living as you do?”

Alex hesitated for a moment and then nodded. The three ellyn seemed to relax at that. “Then why don’t we collect Gil and be on our way?” Brethorn said.

“What about my car?” Alex asked. “It’s still at the college.”

“Give me your keys and Holly and I will go and pick up your car,” Vorondur replied. “She can follow me to Edhellond.”

“Okay,” Alex said and fished in his pocket for his keys, handing them to Vorondur. “Not much of a session,” he added apologetically.

“It doesn’t matter so long as we’ve helped you in some manner. We’ll set up another session for next week and perhaps you will tell me how speaking to the other Reborn helped you or not.”

Alex nodded. “I guess we can do that.”

“Good. Let’s go find Gil and Holly and get you back to Edhellond,” Vorondur said and began to usher them out of the room, but Valandur stopped them.

“There’s something I wish to ask you, Ron,” he said. “Alex, do you have a copy of the Frost poem and the sonnet? I want to show them to Ron.”

“Why?” Alex asked, looking puzzled.

“I just have a question about them and I want Ron’s opinion,” came the easy answer.

Alex fumbled in his bag and drew out a couple of sheets. “Here.”

“Thank you. Why don’t you and Brian go find Gil and we’ll be right there.”

Alex seemed reluctant to leave but Brethorn took him by the elbow and steered him out the door. Valandur closed it and faced Vorondur.

“And what is so important about these other poems?” Vorondur asked.

For an answer, Valandur shoved them into the ellon’s hands. Vorondur glanced at them quickly, then gave Valandur a sharp look.

“You find these significant?”

“Don’t you? Coupled with the section from Beowulf, does that not tell you something?”

“It tells me a great many things, none of them good,” Vorondur admitted, frowning. He paused to re-read the two poems. “He’ll need to be watched very carefully.”

Valandur nodded. “That goes without saying. I will alert Finrod and Glorfindel. They will need to be told.”

“Naturally. Just… be careful, Val. Alex is still psychologically fragile and this episode proves it.”

“I know. Well, let us get on our way. I do not want Alex to be any more suspicious about our conversation than he already is.”

“Agreed,” Vorondur said with a grin as he opened the door and they made their way to the foyer where everyone else was already congregated pulling on coats.

“Thank you, Ron. That clears it up for me,” Valandur said in a voice that was loud enough that it was heard by those at the door. “I appreciate your help.”

“Anytime, Val. You know where to find me,” Vorondur responded, following the other ellon’s lead. “Everyone set? Then we’ll see you over at Edhellond.”

“Why don’t you plan to stay for dinner?” Gilvegil suggested. “Unless you already have plans.”

“No, we don’t have any specific plans, do we?” Vorondur asked Holly.

She shook her head. “Sarah’s with Roy and the ellith are back at Edhellond so it’s just us. I was just planning some leftovers, but we can have them tomorrow.”

“Then I guess we’re staying for dinner,” Vorondur said with a smile. “We’ll see you there.”

With that they all exited the house and shortly thereafter, two cars left the driveway.