Chapter 22

In the Halls of Mandos…

Celebrimbor found himself standing in a deep cavern with no memory of how he arrived. Much more than this, his memories prior to being in that cavern were jumbled and confused. There was a man, a Gondorian ranger, a silver ring, and a burning eye with which he had struggled for centuries… or did he? His only solid memories, the last moments which were clear to him were of the maia Sauron, whom he had known as Annatar, torturing him to death for the creation of the elven rings under his nose and without his influence.

Annatar… Oh what a fool I was! The elven smith thought to himself. I should have known better!

And then he realized the full import of his last clear memory.

"I died? The traitor murdered me?" He asked aloud, trying to make sense of it. "But if that's true, then where am I?"

The Elven smith turned around to get a better look at his surroundings. The cavern was huge, and there were structures, and columns all around him of clearly Elven or Valar design. It was dark, but not necessarily gloomy. The best word he could find to describe it was "restful" or "calming."

"You stand in the halls of waiting, friend." Came a deep, resonant voice from nearby.

The Elf turned in the direction of the voice to see a towering figure wearing midnight blue and black robes. He was pale of skin with a snow white beard. Both wisdom and justice shone in his eyes. The figure was easily five times the Elf's own height. A dark gray hound heeled next to him, eyeing the Elf curiously, but no more.

"You stand in my halls." The figure added.

"Mandos…" Celebrimbor spoke the figure's name, knowing now in whose presence he stood, the vala judge of the dead.

"Usually, they are called the halls of waiting for the souls who come here waiting for either their afterlife or their re-embodiment among the Elves in the case of your people. But in your case, it is I who have been made to wait. I have been waiting for a very long time for you to arrive, Celebrimbor."

"My lord…" The Elf replied, bending the knee to the vala and not knowing what else to say. "I… I don't remember much of anything except fragments."

"But you remember assisting Sauron to forge the rings?" Mandos asked pointedly.

"Yes." Celebrimbor's face fell. It was not a light crime he had committed. "But I didn't know it was even him at the time. I didn't know until he revealed himself. I… I tried to fix it. I forged new rings. I tried to stop him…"

The Elf paused for a minute as his memories began to coalesce. Memories from after he died. "I did try to stop him, but in so doing I… I made things so much worse, didn't I? I became obsessed with it and nearly destroyed anyone who got in my way."

"You did." Mandos agreed, his voice grave and ominous.

"I became a bright lord to counter his darkness, but only ended up imprisoned by him. And then… and then… It's all a jumble. I remember wandering, and voices, and faces of people I think I know but I'm not sure. I wandered for… I don't even know how long." Celebrimbor said. "My soul was unable to leave the world. I was trapped there. I was tormented there…"

The Elf trailed off as it all came back to him. Had he been living, he would have wept for all that had happened to him, and all that he had done.

"What is to become of me?" The Elf asked the lord of the dead, realizing that his punishment would have to fit his crimes.

Mandos took a breath and sighed before responding. "I have spoken at length with Manwe about your particular case, especially in light of recent events. Your pride has caused a great deal of harm, not just to you, but to the entire world. We have both given your punishment a great deal of thought."

"I see." The Elven smith acknowledged, reconciling himself to the justice of the Valar.

"Our judgment is this," Mandos told him, "that nothing we can do can equal the suffering you have already incurred over these last eleven thousand years. Our judgment is that you have suffered more than was necessary. I invite you to rest here for a while, and give thanks to Iluvatar for his mercy. When all is ready, you will be re-embodied and rejoin your people in Eldamar."

"I'm free?" Celebrimbor asked in disbelief. "I'm truly free?"

"You are free." Namo replied. "Welcome home, Celebrimbor."

At the crest of the Turrialba Volcano…

In truth, those partings in the wee hours of the morning had been some of the hardest of Jim's life. Not just the parting with the Lady Arwen, but also with Eltariel, his constant bodyguard whom he had grown quite fond of as though she were a much, much older sister perhaps. They had both been waiting for Jim and Sam in the crater when the rush of wind brought the two Englishmen back to the surface.

Three ragged and empty sets of black robes lay motionless on the ground before them. The expressions on the faces of both women said everything: relief, pride, triumph, absolute joy, and also the pain of knowing they would now have to say good-bye to those they loved.

"You did it!" Eltariel had exclaimed as the two men landed on their feet. "How…?"

Arwen's own expression beamed with pride at the two men, but also understanding seeing how they had returned to the surface without their climbing gear. Jim and Sam both related everything they had experienced in Aule's Forge, and the Elven women listened with rapt attention. Both women understood Aule's message clearly. They then went quickly to gather their fellow Elves and return to the mouth of Turrialba, Jim and Sam remained there waiting and watching the skies clear above them to reveal the stars like they had rarely ever seen before.

Arwen had kissed both Jim and Sam on the cheek, and had handed Jim an envelope which she had carried with her since leaving Germany. She told him, "Give this to Aragorn when he awakens. Everything is in his name now, Cerin Amroth, the bank accounts, the investments, everything. Tell him to rule our people wisely as my husband did, and tell him he cannot do it alone."

Likewise, Eltariel gave both men a kiss on the cheek as well. To them she said, "It has been my honor. Tell my edhellen life is shorter than he thinks. Tell him to find someone who can walk his road with him."

"Shouldn't you be the one to tell him these things?" Jim asked.

"I can't. If I go to him, I may not leave. This is the best for both us." The Elf woman replied.

"We'll tell him." Sam replied for them both, his eyes beginning to well up for the finality of it all.

"I wish this didn't have to be farewell." Jim told her, his own eyes tearing up. "I wish…"

"Our task is done here." Eltariel responded. "All things must come to an end. That is the way of a mortal life. You have such fleeting time, James Frudd. Don't spend it in mourning for what you have lost. Spend it in celebration for what you have been given."

And then the whole company of Elves were surrounded by Aule's rushing wind, and then they were gone. It was only then that both Jim and Sam allowed their tears to flow freely as they watched the mouth of the volcano together.

Fifteen minutes later, as both men were still standing there they heard another familiar voice behind them, "What, they didn't wait for me? I'm not a cub anymore. It takes me a while to get anywhere you know. I won't hear the end of it from Yavanna."

Both Jim and Sam turned to see the brown wizard, Radagast coming across the crater with his staff. They had not seen him since the Mass in the church earlier that afternoon, and only knew that he was contributing to the battle in his own way as per Estel's plans.

"Oh, what's this?" Radagast asked as he saw the rivulets of salt water staining their cheeks. "Well, I suppose it is appropriate for farewells, now isn't it?"

"Aule mentioned the name Aiwendil. That's you, isn't it?" Jim asked. "He said Yavanna would be glad to have you tending her gardens again."

"Ah, well that's lovely, I…" Radagast began to respond then paused and asked, "Wait a minute. What does she think I've been doing this entire time?"

Then both Jim and Sam laughed in spite of themselves. "I really don't know." Jim responded in the midst of the mirth the wizard's question caused. "I can't imagine anyone looking after her gardens on this side of things better than you."

"Well, that's what I was saying! I…" Radagast began to speak more, but then went silent before he said. "Hmm. I will have to speak with her about it." He then added, "It will be lovely to see Gandalf again. We haven't sat down and had a smoke in ages. Quite literally."

"It's been a true honor, sir." Sam told the brown wizard, extending his hand. "The best of my life."

Radagast looked at his hand and then took it. "Oh no, dear boy. The honor has been all mine to know you both. I shall look forward to seeing you both again."

"Seeing us again?" Jim asked, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean? These farewells are only temporary, or did you forget the plan Eru pulled off under all of our noses? You remembered it earlier today in the church, at the Mass." The wizard told them, reminding them of the church service earlier.

"So we did." Sam then said, a look of understanding in his eyes.

"Yes. So we did." Jim agreed.

Satisfied, Radagast said, "Well, looks like I missed the ride. Looks like I'll have to find my own way down." He then looked at them both with a gleam in his eye and a smile on his lips as he asked them, "Can you boys keep a secret?"

They both returned puzzled expressions to him waiting for further explanation.

"I only look like an old man. I'm not one of your race after all." Radagast then told them with a mischievous smile, though to be fair it was a piece of information that did not surprise them in the slightest and they were already well aware of.

"Well, yes, of course." Jim responded, not knowing how to respond.

And then Radagast's form began to change and glow with a brilliant light as his features became younger and more handsome. His frail human frame gave way to one of a being of pure holy power as he lifted off the ground and assumed for the moment his primeval form as one of the Ainur created before the world began. The radiant being then floated above the ground and moved to hover over the mouth of the volcano for a few brief moments where he waved one last farewell to the two Englishmen. And then he descended into the depths of the mountain, and was gone.

In the encampment…

Dawn broke with golden rays of light in a clear sky over the landscape. It revealed the charred and burning remains of the camp as the army of Gondor-in-Exile tended to their wounded, burned the remaining corpses on the ground, and decided what to do with those who surrendered. The dark, thick clouds which had covered the region for weeks had mysteriously and quickly fled around two o'clock in the morning revealing the stars of the heavens in all their unfettered glory brightly shining and looking down upon those who still remained after the battle prompting some of those Elves who were among the attacking force to cry out for the sight as their primeval ancestors did, "Ea!"

Several mercenaries wondered in from the west road on foot, dazed and injured as though they had been in some pretty serious vehicle accidents. Some looked as though they had been attacked by wild animals. All of them had fantastic stories to tell of how they obtained their injuries. They went on about a forest of trees suddenly appearing on the road where there had never been any trees before, and some unseen force stopping and flipping their trucks full of men. One swore the black robed boss he had been traveling with suddenly just imploded in on himself as he watched, and his eyes told a story of terror bordering on insanity. None of them offered any resistance to the Dunedain as they were placed under guard and their wounds treated.

Jim and Sam helped out where they could, but their knowledge of first aid and tending battlefield wounds was extremely limited. When they had done all they could, they sought out Estel who was resting as comfortably as possible on the ground, his eyes closed, with a blond Numenorean woman at his side tending to him. Her right hand had been bandaged, and the pungeant sweet, basil and mint smell of the Kingsfoil essence which had been distributed to them all hung heavy in the air around both of them.

"Is he…?" Jim asked the woman, concerned for the condition in which they found their friend.

"He's only resting." She answered with a distinct German accent, clearly unwilling to leave his side. "He suffered no injury except exhaustion. He will recover."

"Exhaustion?" Sam asked in surprise.

"He fought to protect me from the wraith." The woman explained, both awe and gratitude in her voice. "I have never in my life seen anyone move as fast as he did with his sword or for as long. He fought until he couldn't move at all, and still he would not yield."

Jim smiled a little, having spent so much time with Estel he responded, "That doesn't surprise me. He's probably the finest man, the finest king I have ever met. England should be so lucky if its kings and queens were of such quality."

The woman nodded.

"Is your hand alright?" Jim then asked, gesturing to her bandaged appendage.

"It will be fine in time." She replied. "I stabbed the wraith in the back and somehow it was either burned or poisoned or both. I've treated it with the medicine Grandmother brought, and have been sipping from it as well to be sure as we were instructed. Speaking of which, where is the Lady Arwen? She will want to know about his majesty."

"She…" Jim paused for a moment, remembering his farewells. "She has gone home to be with her family." He wasn't certain how that had come across, but it was the truth nonetheless. "She asked me to deliver this envelope to Estel. Would you give it to him when he wakes up?"

"Gone home? I don't understand. All of her family is here." The woman asked even as she took the envelope for safekeeping.

"Not all of them, and they've been waiting for a very long time as I understand it." Jim answered. "She left with the other Elves for their true home just a little while ago."

The woman's face then looked grieved and saddened as the meaning of his words became real to her. She answered him, "I… I wish she would have stayed a little longer. I would like to have gotten to know her. I've never been to our family's estate. All I know of our people's history is those silly films and what my father…"

At the mention of her father, she then began to break down and tears began to flow. "My father…" She repeated. "He didn't make it out of the town last night."

"I know something of how it feels." Feeling deeply for her loss, Jim's own eyes began to well again and, looking at Sam who nodded, "It's been a difficult night for all of us. May we sit with you, at least until he wakes up?"

"Bitte." She responded in her native tongue, her voice cracking.

"My name's Jim. This is Sam." Jim told her as the two men sat down next to her and the sleeping Estel.

"Sofie. Danke." She replied.

"Tell us about your father." Sam then told her. "To pass the time."

And she began talking while they listened.

In Tirion upon Tuna in Eldamar…

Arwen and her company of recently arrived Elves had journeyed for several days upon leaving the vast, dwarf like halls of Aule's domain. He was a hospitable and gracious host, if somewhat blunt and gruff, much like the dwarves whom he had created. His consort, Yavanna, was somewhat more gentle and fair, and the Elves had felt far more at home among her gardens where they said their farewells to Aiwendil whom they had known in Middle Earth as Radagast the Brown. In truth, he seemed quite happy to be back among Yavanna's bright and growing forests. Arwen had never seen the wizard—no, she remembered, the maia—so full of joy.

They traveled east until, on the fourth day of their journey, they saw the walls of the white city of Tirion upon Tuna. The city glowed like a single pearl in moonlight as they approached, and many wept for the sight of its beauty. Its spires and towers were crowned with gold, and the sand of its pathways was made from crushed diamond so that the city was constantly glittering.

And every one of those traveling with the Elven Lady knew in their hearts that they had finally come home. But for Arwen herself, as much as she felt the city to be where she belonged as she passed through its gate alongside her companions, there was a particular homecoming she was anticipating, but did not know what to expect.

After those others who traveled with her had gone their separate ways, and only Eltariel remained by her side, after making some inquiries, they found themselves standing outside the gated entry of a large estate within the sprawling city. This was when she hesitated.

Sensing something was amiss, Eltariel asked, "My Lady, is something wrong?"

Arwen herself couldn't put her finger on it, but she was uncharacteristically uncertain. "I… I don't know. It's been so long, and they weren't expecting me to join them. We all expected our farewells at my wedding to be our last. What if…?"

Her friend and faithful servant touched her hand to Arwen's shoulder reassuringly and told her, "My Lady, they're your family. They will want to see you."

Arwen took Eltariel's hand and patted it, thankful for her words. "Yes, of course you're right. I'm just being silly." She exclaimed even as tears formed in her eyes.

She opened the wrought mithril gate, and they both passed through into a series of well kept, manicured gardens which surrounded a tall, pearlescent white manor house of elvish architecture reminiscent of the ancient cities and structures of the Noldor, but with a few touches here and there which reminded her of her childhood home at Rivendell.

As they made their way through the gardens they came upon an Elf woman with long, lustrous, platinum blond hair dressed in a white day gown. She was sitting upon a bench next to a pond with a fountain of bubbling water. Next to her was seated an Elven man with dark hair reading Sindarin poetry to the beautiful woman from a small book he held in his hands.

And Arwen's knees nearly buckled at the sight as the tears began to flow freely.

"Father? Mother?" She asked, barely able to get the words out. She had last seen her father, Lord Elrond as he took his leave at her wedding. She had last seen her mother five hundred years before that as she embarked for the West to heal her mind and heart after her imprisonment and torture by the orcs. She had not thought to ever see either of them again, and neither they her.

The man's eyes looked up from the book at the sound, as well as the woman's, to see the much younger Elf woman with dark hair like her father's. Their eyes both went wide as Elrond asked in disbelief, "Arwen? It cannot be, can it?"

"My daughter? Arwen, is it really you?" The Lady Celebrian asked, tears forming in her own eyes. "It's been so long. We thought…"

"It's me, mother. It's really me." Arwen replied, rivulets of salt water streaming down her face.

Then both Elrond and Celebrian nearly jumped up from where they had been sitting and almost ran for their daughter to embrace her. "You're here." Elrond cried, kissing her head. "I cannot believe it! You're here, and you live! We thought… We thought you had died. But how is this possible? You chose a mortal life!"

"My son, Eldarion, Atta," Arwen cried as she embraced her parents fiercely, "he brought me out of my despair. He gave me a reason to live, as did all of my descendants."

"Bless him!" Elrond exclaimed. "Bless my grandson for that, and bless all of our grandchildren for bringing you back to us."

Eltariel watched the reunion with joy, tears running down her own cheeks. Soon, she decided, it would be time to find her own family, but she had wanted to see this one last duty to the house of Celeborn and Galadriel fulfilled by restoring Arwen to hers.

In Goole, England, two weeks later…

Jim Frudd unlocked the storefront door to Cul-de-sac books at nine o'clock in the morning for the first time in months. It felt strange to him, doing something so ordinary as opening up the shop after the events of those months. It was familiar, but no longer as comforting as it once had been. If one could have compared it to a pair of well worn shoes, suddenly, the shoes had holes in them and were no longer so comfortable. Nevertheless, he opened the door and entered the shop to take stock of it. Except for a little more dust, it looked exactly the same as he had left it. Everything was exactly the same. The shop, his house, his town. Everything.

Everything except him.

Not far from where he stood inside the aged, weather beaten door, he knew Sam was starting his first shift back working for the grocery store once more. That took some explaining to get him his job back, but he hadn't been alone. Jim had been there with him, as had a sharply dressed Estel in a tailored suit more appropriate to a businessman or a politician. The Numenorean had made a point of returning to England with his two friends to ensure they could resume their lives, and spared no expense in doing so.

"You must live as you see fit, but you are both kin to me. You will both always have a house and family waiting for you at Cerin Amroth, my friends. That will never change. Not as long as I rule it." Estel had told them both on their return, and before departing.

The envelope which their tall friend had received from his Grandmother before she departed had contained a German birth certificate with his true name on it, as well as all corresponding identity documents and a German passport. There were also a number of documents related to their family's finances, Swiss bank account numbers, and lists of properties and assets which until that point, only she had truly known. Estel had informed Jim later that the true extant of his Grandmother's assets, which had all been placed in the name of "Aragorn Elessar" made the hundreds of thousands if not millions of euros she had expended in their expedition to see the ring's final destruction appear as mere pennies. Some modern nations did not have the resources that the Elven queen had compiled over the eons.

Attached to all of this was a short hand written note from her which read in Sindarin, in flowing Tengwar characters as he translated it for Jim and Sam, "No more hiding. Take these and use them wisely. Be who you were born to be, my hope. Rule our people well, and be the king Middle-Earth still needs."

It was, in fact, because of these documents that Estel had been more than influential in Sam's being able to return to his job. One of the investments Arwen had made had put Estel as the primary shareholder in the supermarket chain. Jim smiled briefly at the memory. The store manager was a decent and understanding man to begin with, but he was positively acquiescent to Estel's request and talked about promoting Sam upon learning who his friends were.

Sam was not the same man Jim knew months ago either. Just the night before, he and Rose McAllister went out on their first evening together. It was something Sam wouldn't have had the nerve to do prior to their meeting their extraordinary new friends. Two days after their return, he didn't want to let another day pass without asking her.

Jim moved deeper into his shop and then stopped once more, turning around to see everything. Everywhere he looked, he realized, he saw his aunt and uncle. It had always been their shop. Their dream. Their life. That was why he had held onto it so tightly. It then occurred to him once more, what would his uncle have said about it? It was almost funny that he had never asked himself that question before running off to the continent with Sam and Estel. Was he truly honoring their memories, or was he just clinging? And then he made the realization he hadn't before.

This shop wasn't his life. It was theirs. His uncle wouldn't have let him hear the end of it had he seen what Jim had done with what they left for him. Suddenly, the book shop was no longer comforting at all. It was cold, dark, and felt much like a tomb, a place to come and die.

Jim had been given his fill of death for a lifetime. He had literally stared it in the face.

He said one last farewell. This one to his aunt and uncle whom he imagined would finally be smiling on his newfound understanding. A mortal life was too short to not be lived.

He turned around and walked out of the book shop, locked the door, and didn't look back.

At the Jailhouse two nights later…

Jim had already been sitting at the bar for some time when Sam arrived. He had been doing a lot of thinking for the past two days, but hadn't spoken much with his best mate who had been incredibly busy since returning to work.

Sam sat down on the stool next to Jim and ordered a pint from the barkeep.

"So. How're things at the Asda?" Jim asked.

"It's insane." Sam replied, taking a sip from the frothy glass which had been placed in front of him. "Mr. Casey is training me to be an assistant manager, he's got me running all over the place and studying like mad. I honestly don't know if I'm going to survive it."

Jim smiled at that, knowing what they had both survived. "And how are things with Rose?"

Sam blushed at it as a smile crept over his face, "We're going out again tomorrow night. Turns out she had her eye on me too this whole time we'd known each other. Just that neither of us could work up the courage before now."

"You've no idea how happy that makes me for you, Sam. Really." Jim told him, taking a sip from his own ale that sat in front of him.

"What about you? How's your shop?" Sam asked.

Jim paused for just a moment before saying the words, "I'm selling the shop, Sam. And my house."

"What?" Sam nearly spurted the beer he had just sipped. "When did you decide that?" He asked as he wiped his mouth, shock and surprise in his eyes.

"About five minutes after unlocking the door and attempting to walk into the shop again." Jim answered. "I realized they've never truly been mine, and neither has that life. My aunt and uncle wanted more for me, and up until these past few months, I let them down by holding on to them so tightly."

A look of grief but also understanding passed over Sam's face as he realized what his friend was saying. "Where are you going to go? Back to Cambridge?"

"Maybe. Eventually. I don't know. I called Estel, er… Aragorn last night. He and I spoke for some time. I think, at least at first, I will take him up on his offer and go back to Cerin Amroth. He's been making plans for his people to become more openly involved in European affairs and politics as Arwen wished. He is also moving to take in the family members of those killed at Turrialba, as many as want to live there. He suggested that I could help with both in some way. He asked that I be there, and I accepted." Jim explained. "I've got to live my own life, Sam. But first I have to find out what that looks like."

"So this is what? Good-bye?" Sam asked, his voice genuinely hurt though still filled with understanding.

"Not yet. I still have to find buyers for the house and shop. That might take no little amount of time. But then, yes, I suppose it is. For now at least, but probably not forever. We'll still keep in contact over the internet, and I suppose we'll still be able to quest together on the game." Jim told him.

"The game." Sam repeated thoughtfully. "You know, the truth is, I haven't even been able to sit down and log in since we got back. It just feels weird, you know?"

"I know. I haven't either." Jim agreed.

They were both quiet for a moment before Sam said, "I'll never be able to get used to calling him 'Aragorn'. That just don't feel right either."

"I know. It will take some getting used to." Jim agreed on that point too. "But I'm glad he's settling into the name. It suits him well. As does Sofie. You know, he told me she hasn't left his side much at all since that morning. Sounds like she packed up and moved to Cerin Amroth, bringing her horses with her and everything. He sounded glad of it. Said he couldn't do any of this without her support. Honestly, I'm glad they met, even under the circumstances."

"Wait, aren't they cousins?" Sam asked, put off by the idea.

"I asked the same question. She's pretty far removed from his line, far enough to where it doesn't matter, apparently." Jim replied.

"Well, in that case, I hope it works out for the two of them. She seemed a decent woman." Sam replied. "He could do a lot worse, that's for sure."

They were quiet again as they nursed their drinks. Then Sam spoke again in a low, heartfelt voice, "I'm going to miss you, Jim. You've been the best mate I've ever had. We went to hell and back together it seemed. I'll never forget that."

"And you mine, Sam. And you mine." Jim replied.

And they continued the rest of that night drinking and remembering. Eventually, Jim did sell his house. Sam and Rose bought it as their first home together upon their wedding two months later. His bookshop was sold, but all the books within it were shipped back to Cerin Amroth in Germany where they became a part of the estate's private library collection upon Jim's arrival as the personal advisor and researcher of Aragorn Elessar, a wealthy philanthropist and humanitarian who just suddenly appeared on the political scene in Europe with a vision for a just, fair, and strong European Union the likes of which hadn't been seen before. Two years later, he would accept the seat of German Chancellor with an eye to a stronger, peaceful political and economic union throughout Europe dedicated to the welfare and benefit of all its citizens. Some hailed it as the second coming of Charlemagne, while others compared it to his fictional namesake of whom Tolkien wrote. Always he was accompanied by his wife, Sofie.

Sam eventually became the assistant manager at the Asda in Goole, and later the store manager after Mr. Casey retired. He and Rose lived in the house they bought from Jim for years, raising their three children: Eltariel, Arwen, and Gondeg whose unusual names were wondered at by all but their parents. Eventually, he ran for parliament representing Goole and won. He became a well respected, and well liked businessman and politician. And once a year, on the same night every year, he would meet up with an old friend for a pint at the jailhouse to talk not about where they had been as much as where they were and where they were going.

THE END