[Durelin]

A sticky, moist cloud glittered in front of his face, and he was half aware of it clinging to his skin. What lay beyond the cloud was misty, and this haze enveloped him in calmness. Jordo blinked, but the cloud did not go away. He was aware of pain, but mainly he felt a numbness that ached in knowledge of injury. But it was the pain of a separate body from his mind, which acknowledged pain, and put it into a simple feeling that the man recognized, and knew well. The cloud that physically surrounded him seemed to penetrate him mentally. His brain felt wrapped in a fogginess. But it its distorted way of thinking found a rather abstract thought somewhere. His mind had been so controlled by outer and inner forces, but in its current confusion, it found a kind of freedom. For the first time in his life, he made the connection between his mind and the pain he felt. He was musing in his mind, a broken one, one that did not have the same amount of defense against seemingly illogical thoughts. He heard and saw nothing but what was in his head.

Jordo stood still, afraid to move for the moment, in the Tunnel and all its unnaturalness. He shivered as a small droplet of some liquid fell in between his neck and shoulder blade. This seemingly shook his head into a more thorough consciousness. Noticing everyone around him gone, he ventured moving, and made his way toward a light that made the mist before his eyes glitter and shimmer. He felt strange to be finding beauty in that Tunnel, but he was not afraid. For a moment, thought a fleeting one, all his former fear was even forgotten. And the ability to fear did not seem such a simple one. Without fear weighing them down, he brought his arms up, and his hands went to his face. He felt tiny points adhere to his skin. Knowing this feeling, Jordo should have been afraid. The Tunnel was something to be feared, and this ‘mist’ before his face was the very essence of that tunnel. He tore it with a passionate disgust. Rather than a frightened squeak as the webbing was pulled off his face, he growled. A strange feeling, this was, but Jordo quickly decided that he liked it.

Upon emerging from that smoky world behind the web, the man was surprised to find the calmness he had felt was not secluded to that world. He realized that he was on a ledge, where everyone was gathered, and he was out of Her pit. The light that shown, a shock after his time spent in the supernatural darkness of the Tunnel, was welcomed with a smile. What he felt inside was such a relief, was so warming when compared to the fear he normally was a prisoner to, that smiling became a logical expression. He refused to close his eyes, no matter the pain the brightness – brightness when compared to the deep darkness of Shelob’s hole – of the light caused. He stared into the sky surrounding them, and his eyes wanted not to see the ash and flame as anything but a relief. But it seemed he was back, back to where they had began, back to where and when he was so afraid. He stared at the looming tower of Barad-Dûr until he heard speaking that distracted him. Only two voices could tear him away from such brilliance, and those were the elves’. Raeis was speaking. Was she speaking to Jordo? In a blur, he turned to look toward where the voice was coming from. At first the man thought he saw dark green eyes looking at him. Morgoroth sat with his cloak around him, and Jordo felt the immortal’s eyes upon him. He blinked, and still it seemed they looked at him, and he was forced to look away. He felt that old feeling, that cold emptiness, threaten to take over the new one that filled him with a certain warmth and comfort.

Turning away brought him to stare into another pair of eyes, these dark blue and kind, yet still the eyes of an immortal. He was able to hold this gaze for a moment. His mind having finally found something to focus on, he was able to hear what was being said.

“Jordo? How do you feel?” He lost the will to hold Raeis’s gaze. Looking down at his feet, the uneasiness built up again inside of him, scaring him to silence. But then that caring voice spoke again, seeming so very familiar. “Are you feeling well, Jordo?” He looked up once more into those eyes, he searched in them for the strength to speak. Why he searched in them, he did not know. But he knew he did not wish to search himself.

“Yes.” He found something in them. And in the smile that now played on Raeis’s face he saw just what the familiarity in the elf was. Her face of kindness and concern was his mother’s face. No more fear… What had his mother taught him to say? “Thank you,” he said smiling, expectant of some kind of reward. A smile was enough. The little boy was being good, and he felt good inside.