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Lihan Taifun (with Shawn Daysleeper)
A soft wind rustles through the ageless willow trees in the gardens of Lórien. Most of the leaves have fallen, yet the bare branches are graceful, as beautiful and restful as they are in the flush of springtime. The cool autumn air is refreshing. Even in winter, which is coming soon, the winds will not be harsh. Nienna is aware of the crunching texture of the leaves under her feet. Being in a physical body, as she has been for much of the past few weeks, seems to magnify these external sensations. Sounds, colors, smells, textures all take on a distracting urgency. In contrast, it is much harder to perceive the true essential being of any object, or to communicate mentally with other Ainur. If she and her brother were both in their natural spirit forms, it would take no effort at all to find him. Since both in physical bodies, she continues to walk, through crackling fallen leaves, scanning with her eyes among the trees ...
“Greetings, brother.”
“Greetings my sister.”
“I will miss this garden.”
“Yes, as I will miss my etherial form, but this task is of severe importance.”
“Severe importance, indeed. I do hope I can manage the physical form. I have been practicing, but the time is short. Who knows what might be happening to the king, while we have been preparing?”
Irmo nods to his sister, "It is up to us to preserve the hope of the Children. I hope we can manage our disguise long enough to reach the Teleri King."
“Yes, we must manage that, at least. You yourself can always reach the king, in his dreams, but, walking among the Teleri, perhaps we can reach more of them.
“Yes, dreams are one thing, and as I have seen within his dreams, the horrors and visions, he may not trust his dreams so much."
“And perhaps it would be well if he did not trust them.”
Irmo nods "It will be more beneficial to reach them in a physical form. To this end, we raise their hope.”
“Yes, we must do whatever we can to keep their hope strong.”
“There is one last thing, then we will be ready to depart for Alqualondë and the world of the living. We must find names that we will bear, names in their language, that they will be able to speak, and address our bodies among them. I have chosen the name Estelin, the song of Hope.”
Nienna nods at the appropriateness of this name. “And I Apakenwë, the voice of Prophecy.”
Irmo smiles to his sister, beginning to feel emotions in this new body
Apakenwë makes a mental adjustment to her body. Her skin is paler, her hair silvery white and loose. “Do I look like one of the Children?”
“Yes my sister, you do appear as one of the Teleri.” He shifts his own body, likewise in imitation of a Teleri. His clothing is all in the blue favored by that tribe. “Is there anything else we need before we depart?”
“I have my harp. What else do we need?” She pauses, uncertain. She has, in all these ages, seldom been outside the Undying Lands. “You have been to the city, at least in dreams. Do you know where we should arrive? Somewhere so our arrival will not be seen.”
“There is a remote valley there, near the city. That valley is always shrouded in mist. It should serve as an arrival point. It is not likely we would be seen there.”
'Apakenwë' steps forward, and then drops back again. “Wait, I have lost my lower raiment already. Oh, this is going to be hard!”
'Estelin' grins, and laughs a little. “Yes this will be difficult. Managing these bodily functions is also hard.”
“Quite. We are expected to eat every day?”
“Yes, the Teleri eat a few times a day actually.”
“And breathing ... it is hard to breathe and talk at the same time.” Nonetheless, she has managed to recreate her blue skirt while talking. “Alright, I am ready. The valley of mist, brother!”
Estelin nods. “Then let us go, sister.” He takes his sisters hands and prepares to depart to Alqualondë.