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The Valinor Trail, Chapter Twenty; Decision Time
Words; 2,460
Chapter Rated PG.

Disclaimer as Chapter One.


Previous chapters are here.



Chapter Twenty; Decision Time



As they walked out through the ornate open doors it was raining gently and the air smelled soft and green. The trees were thinner than Tindómë remembered from the evening they had ridden down the path of lanterns, and entered into Mandos Halls, and she could hear a waterfall and see impressive mountains over the tops of the trees.

Beside her, Haldir paused and breathed in deeply, then nodded in the direction of the sound of the waterfall. “Shall we…?” he asked.

As they walked she asked him if he agreed that it didn’t seem to be the same bit of forest.

“Well, yes,” he answered, “we are higher up, and further north.”

He didn’t seem all that surprised. She said so and was rewarded with one of his superior looks.

“Mithrandir told us that, in effect, we would not so much find Mandos Halls as Lord Námo would find us. And the exit from his halls is always in the place that is right for the newly reborn elf… so why would the door open out to the same place? His Lordship must have thought we would enjoy a little time here.”

Tindómë realised that he had just said something that he had touched on in the past, but the significance had not struck her before – she wondered if she had been a bit slow. He had said that he had walked out of Mandos and found himself in the trees near his parents’ home with Lady Galadriel. And some of the Sylvan elves, who now lived in forests and woodlands between Alqualondë and the mountains, spoke of coming from Mandos Halls to the woodlands where they found family, or friends, waiting for them… The doors between the Halls of Waiting and the outside world opened wherever they would!

How very neat. She didn’t like to admit to Haldir that she hadn’t fully understood before and so she just smiled and walked with him until they could not only hear, but also see, the waterfall. It fell about twelve feet into a small pool before the stream rushed onward between a series of rocks. It was clear that this was still the upper reaches of this particular water-course.

The rain had stopped and the sun was beginning to break through the clouds. Tindómë looked around for somewhere to spread her cloak and sit down.

“I would bathe under the fall,” Haldir said, “just for the pleasure of the water on my skin. Will you join me?”

“No. No, I really prefer my water warmer unless it is a very hot day. I just want to sit and think. There is a lot to think about.”

He nodded his understanding. “Then,” he said, “I will leave my clothes with you so they do not get so wet.”

And, so saying, he stripped and soon stood under the water, head thrown back, eyes closed.

He really looked very like Rumil in that pose. She though of the times she had watched Rumil stand like that, under such a cascade, right back to the one in Arwen’s garden where she had watched him so many years before. And she was overcome with such a wave of longing to have him here, to be able to talk to him, to hear his thoughts on all that was happening, that she wanted to cry.

After a few minutes she metaphorically shook herself. Rumil wasn’t here and she’d have to cope; after all it wouldn’t be that long, in the scheme of things, before she was back with him. She wondered what he would have thought of Lord Námo’s doom for Spike. And then she thought of her recent conversation with Haldir about her haste in asking for Spike to come to Arda without really considering the consequences.

They were the sort of thinky thoughts Rumil usually had… It was a wonder he hadn’t thought of the same problems as had Haldir. Huitho! He probably had, but hadn’t wanted to upset her. He would have accepted Spike for her sake – even though Haldir was right and the vampire would have squicked everyone who met him. When she got home she must give her beloved an extra hug for that.

She focused again on Haldir standing under the pouring water. He really was almost as beautiful as his brother. Out of the blue came the thought that Nessa would enjoy this view – and, somewhere close at hand, she thought she heard an amused female chuckle, but she might have imagined it...

She lay back, looking at the sky above the trees, and saw a rainbow.

‘A promise,’ she thought. She remembered Mom telling her the rainbow was a promise. She knew it was a false memory but it was comforting, and she gradually felt calmer, and less anxious. Whatever Spike’s decision, she had done what she could.

…………………..

In another dimension far away, at the same time, (or perhaps in another dimension merely inches away, in a very different time; only the Valar know…) Spike also was remembering a promise and deciding which was most important to him; the chance of an after-life with Buffy, or the promise he had made her…

Then there was no more time to think it through. The light in his room began to develop a green tinge and the portal reformed.

…………………..

As they walked back to the Halls Tindómë made a decision; she admitted to Haldir that he was right. She had rushed into the whole idea of bringing Spike here without really thinking it through past ‘he’s lonely and I’m the only person he has left’. She hadn’t thought of what life might be like for Spike amongst the Elves, let alone the whole idea of letting a vampire demon enter Arda.

She sort of expected him to crow, or deliver a lecture. She was rather taken aback when she got neither.

“It is the impetuosity of youth,” he said. “It is hard for me to always remember your youth, knowing that you have a son and daughter both past their majority.

“I did not face such a decision, of course, when little over a yén of age; for I am not The Key. But I was not always well composed and able to make all my decisions based on logic.”

She rather wanted to stick her tongue out at that point – but refrained!

“Rumil and Orophin were also wont to rush into situations when they were as young as you. Only their warrior training and firm leadership restrained them from unsafe actions. Behind my back they were doubtless precipitate at times.”

This time he smiled, and then continued, “I do not think it would have worked had Rumil decided to take the course of firm leadership and discipline, insisting you give up the idea at the outset…”

He probably wondered why the idea of Rumil and discipline made her blush. Or, she thought, perhaps he didn’t wonder at all.

She had expected to be anxious and stressed all through the time until Lord Námo would summons her to reopen the portal. But in the end she found it easy to walk a dream path where she lay on their bed, her wrists tied together with a leather thong looped over the point of the intricately carved bedhead designed for that very purpose, whilst Rumil’s teeth nipped her ‘adel-bein’ just hard enough for the pain to be a pleasure.

…………………..

In Alqualondë Rumil walked a very interesting dream path and awoke smiling with the need to ease himself before breaking his fast.

…………………..

Lord Námo’s study looked just as it had before but this time there was little conversation before he produced the small knife and, once again, Tindómë’s blood and the power of the Vala opened a way into that other world.

This time it was clear that Spike was waiting for them. If he chose to cross the barrier, Haldir thought, almost randomly, he really should have a proper name in Sindarin, rather than that meaningless word in some strange language. Well, it probably meant something…

“Cebir.”

Clearly Lord Námo could listen to more than one person’s thoughts at a time. But what a strange name by which to be known. Haldir tried to concentrate on the scene in front of him, rather than wondering about someone whose name meant ‘sharp pointed thing’!

“Have you made your decision?” the Doomsman asked.

“I think so,” the vampire replied. “Yes. I… I just had to weigh things up. If you are right… no, of course you must be right. As you said I’m not totally to blame for all the evil things I did, but I’m not totally blameless either, I still don’t know if I stand a chance of joining Buffy in heaven if I dust here.

“But I do know I once promised her I’d always look after Dawn, until the end of the world. And that’s Tindómë. That means you’re giving me the chance to keep my word to the woman I loved so, really, there’s no contest. As long as you promise me I can keep my promise to her, that you’re not going to shut me up in your dungeons forever or anything, then I’ve got to come through, even though it means you killing me.”

“I can, indeed, promise that you may fight at her side at the Dagor Dagorlath,” said Lord Námo.

Haldir noticed there was no absolute guarantee that Spike would be spending any time before that with The Key. But no guarantee that he would not, either.

“And who knows what plans The One has for us after that? Who can tell, when the world is undone, whether you will meet your Buffy again?”

Spike actually smiled slightly at Lord Námo. “Thank you,” he said.

Tindómë looked relieved that her sister-husband had decided to take up Lord Námo’s doom.

“Couple of minor details…” Spike went on. “The new body, when you feel I’m fit to be released into polite society… Do I get pointy ears?”

Haldir almost expected His Lordship to roll his eyes in the rather un-elven fashion that Rumil, Orophin, and others, seemed to have copied from Tindómë.

“The hröa is, to a large extent, created by the memory of the fëa,” came the reply. “But should you prefer to have elven ears, at that time, it should provide no difficulty. Neither,” he added to Haldir’s slight confusion, “should there be any difficulty with the colour of your hair – if the fëa considers the true Spike to be blond, then your new hröa will be blond.”

“Cool!” said Tindómë.

Haldir thought he really must ask her about this conversation later.

Spike gave a slightly lop-sided smile and said “Thanks,” again.

“And, if there is no demon any more, can I go out in the sun?”

“Certainly,” Lord Námo said. He was being very patient. But then, of course, he had all the time in the world.

However now he seemed to have decided the conversation had gone on long enough as his next words were “Have you anything you would wish to bring through the portal? Tindómë may keep such items for you until you are re-united.”

“Yeah. No point in most of it,” he waved towards a series of small, flat, shiny items gathered together on a table, “Even the ones that recharge themselves will give up eventually. I’ve put a few bits into a bag, though.”

“Haldir.”

He was surprised that Lord Námo addressed him; he had thought he was here purely as a witness, to explain things to Rumil and the others.

“My Lord?”

“Go through the portal and retrieve the bag. I do not wish Tindómë to enter the other dimension.”

Ah, of course – keeping the key on your own side of a door you may wish to lock quickly made sense.

And so, for a few moments only, Haldir, like his brothers before him, went beyond the bounds of Arda. The air in the other place smelled dead. He could not say he was impressed. Spike handed him a well worn bag about the size of a small saddle bag.

“Feel free to look,” he said.

Haldir was very tempted, but it seemed impolite.

“I thought,” the vampire was looking at Lord Námo, rather than Haldir, “Better a leather bag than plastic. And there are just a few books and pictures.”

The Vala nodded as if unsurprised, and told Haldir to return to his own side of the portal, whilst Spike was to remain on his.

“So,” Spike asked, “How do we do this thing? You want me to just open the curtains and wait to go up in flames?”

Haldir, commander of warriors for many, many, years, felt that there was a hint of false bravado there; just a little too much swagger. The vampire was clearly willing to immolate himself but he was not facing the prospect without trepidation. And, Haldir thought, rightly so.

“That would be unnecessarily painful for you,” Lord Námo replied, “and distressing for Tindómë. I think the more traditional method will suffice.”

“You want me to fall on my own bloody stake? You can’t expect Daw… Tindómë to stake me, and she’s the only one with practice.”

“As I understand it,” Lord Námo said, rather dryly, “the stake does not get bloody… However, Tindómë is not the only person with relevant experience.”

And in an instant, Haldir found he was holding his bow, perfectly strung, with an arrow in his hand ready to nock.

Well that was… unexpected.

He kept his face impassive, but glanced at both Spike and Tindómë. Both looked slightly surprised, but the inference was clear to them all.

“Yeah. Right. That should work,” Spike almost succeeded in sounding nonchalant.

Tindómë put a hand onto Haldir’s arm. “There is no-one I trust more to hit his heart,” she said.

Spike was taking off the garment he wore with his ‘jeans’. He spoke again.

“If she trusts you to get it right, I do. And,” he nodded towards the Vala, “I just have to listen to your voice and do what you say?”

Before Lord Námo could answer Spike turned towards Tindómë. “You absolutely sure you trust him to call me, Niblet?”

“Yes.” She answered straight away, with no hint of a doubt.

“I’d take the risk, anyway,” he said, suddenly. “This fuckin’ un-life isn’t worth living any more.”

He turned, bare-chested, towards Haldir and said “Go for it, Robin Hood.”

Haldir had no idea what, or possibly who, the vampire was talking about but the inference was obvious. He glanced quickly at Lord Námo, saw the slight nod, nocked the arrow, aimed at the vampire’s chest, drew, and loosed.


................



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