"There's something else I must tell you," said Trina after a pause. "My story here. After seeing Ilúvatar, I tried to return to the world. I wanted to find you, face to face… but it wasn't time yet. We didn't have the strength to coexist separately in the physical realm. Only now, as our power has grown, is that finally becoming possible."
"So, will we be able to see each other outside the dream?" Miquella asked, intrigued.
"Very soon… yes. In fact, I tried to reach you many times through the dream world. This is the first time I've truly succeeded." (Trina)
"That will be… very interesting. I'm looking forward to it," said Miquella with a faint smile.
"So am I… but as I was saying," continued Trina, "even though I couldn't exist in the physical world at the same time as you, that didn't mean I couldn't exist at another time… in an era before you had even arrived. Through the dream world, I reached the past — long before our coming to Arda."
"You were in Valinor? With the Valar?" (Miquella)
"I first met Mandos… not exactly the most sociable one. Then Manwë and Varda, later Ulmo, Yavanna, Aulë... They all looked at me with curiosity: I was a stranger, an existence not shaped by the Creator. Yet they did not reject me. I spoke with them, witnessed Arda's history — its birth, its growth, its unfolding…" (Trina)
"So that's why Yavanna trusted me — why she believed I would join her cause against the Greater Will. Though… I'm not sure I deserve that trust. I don't know what you told them, but I'm no longer who I once was. Using you as a reference might not be the best way to measure my principles." (Miquella)
"I know…" Trina answered softly. "I'm not the same either. We both went through the baptism and the transformation of soul's fusion. I separated from you only partially… and even so, we both changed."
Miquella looked at Trina and stood up, moving closer. He reached out to touch her chest — slight, but there. Trina, like a perfect reflection in a mirror, did the same: her hand sought and caressed Miquella's chest. They remained like that, tracing the shape of one another without the faintest trace of shame, bound by the tactility of their identical forms.
"Perhaps you're right…" he whispered, never breaking eye contact.
"I'm as right as you are…" replied Trina, locking her gaze with his other half. "But that wasn't my only journey through time. Through the dream world, I gained access to something greater… to this world's multiverse."
Miquella stared in awe, his fingers still resting against her skin. Curiosity mixed with a dawning, unsettling understanding.
"Multiverse?" (Miquella)
"Haven't you noticed?" Trina's smile was almost enigmatic. "This isn't like the movies, or even the books… because this world is just one variable among infinite others. There are countless realities, different versions of the same events. The only truly unique being is Eru Ilúvatar — the one conscious of all worlds at once. It was in one of those infinite worlds that we arrived… and this is the one the Greater Will managed to touch. But if She wins here, She'll reach the others as well."
Miquella nodded slowly, finally understanding something that had lingered in his thoughts since his arrival. "I suppose that's why the people here aren't exactly like the actors who portrayed them… though some are quite close."
"Most of them, yes," Trina replied with a hint of irony, before her tone softened. "Do you remember your dream? The one you wrote down in the notebook, when you awoke with the arrow in your hand?"
"Yes… that arrow. Were you the one behind it?" (Miquella)
Trina nodded gently. "I thought we might meet in dreams — perhaps at another point in time or space — but it didn't work as I hoped. Part of us merged again, though not in the way I intended."
"Why was it all so confusing? I barely remember any details… I had to write down what little I could recall."
"Do mortals ever remember their dreams clearly?" she asked, smiling faintly — a question that needed no answer.
"I suppose not."
"Using the dream realm to travel when you possessed only a fraction of our power was… reckless. Your consciousness drifted into that plane, our bodies joined for a brief instant, but in the end, we couldn't see each other. You remembered everything as it happened, but upon waking, those memories faded. Still… it wasn't all in vain." (Trina)
"What do you mean by 'not in vain'?"
"I learned a great deal," Trina said, crossing her arms thoughtfully. "I discovered that I cannot change reality — not in the absolute sense. I can't directly alter the past. But in the multiverse… with the dark energy that flows between worlds… some things can be done."
Miquella studied her closely. "What did you try to do?"
"At first, I tried to rewrite history — to give us a better beginning. I attempted to prevent the creation of the Rings of Power…" She paused, lowering her gaze. "But I failed. Every time I tried, I was rejected, pulled back into the dream world — again and again. Until I understood my limits. I couldn't stop their existence… but I could change small details."
"Details?" (Miquella)
"Yes. Once, the nine rings of Men and the seven of Dwarves were identical. Now… each set bears distinct traits. Small variations that might change their fate. I didn't prevent their creation — I just made them different."
"And does that actually help… aside from making them prettier?" Miquella asked with a half-smile.
"It was mostly an experiment," Trina shrugged. "A beginning. I also made a few minor adjustments to Aulë's works among the Dwarves — nothing significant, just some aesthetic details in a group from the Grey Mountains. Oh, and tell me, have you met those Dwarven women, Filián and Kilian?"
"Yes, them too? Their gender is a result of…" (Miquella)
"Yes, because of what we did in that alternate timeline — it merged with this one. We can keep introducing small alterations in other versions of the world to affect our own. However, we're forbidden to completely break the history that preceded our arrival, as if major changes were too unstable to be absorbed. We also can't travel beyond that starting point — the moment we first entered this world — as if two versions of us couldn't coexist at once. That's why I never risk going into the future." (Trina)
"And that arrow? It was strange to wake up with it, even though I remembered it vividly from the dream. That physical object was the only fracture in reality that made me doubt whether it had been just a dream. That's why I worked so hard to write everything down." (Miquella)
"And you were right," Trina nodded. "That arrow was the first reward. The Black Arrow — the very one that would slay Smaug in that universe… much like the one in the books, but not the same as in the films."
"No wonder it seemed smaller than I remembered." (Miquella)
"We can bring certain objects from those interdimensional journeys," Trina explained, stepping closer. "Not much, of course. That arrow was the only tangible help I could send you then. But it set a precedent… proof that we can grow stronger without resorting to the sacrifices of the Ring. This world is full of relics, artifacts, and treasures that could aid us against our enemies."
"That sounds quite good…" Miquella replied with a soft smile.
"And besides," Trina added, her tone calm but playfully teasing, "there are many beautiful, brave, and exquisite women you could meet in those temporal journeys."
Miquella raised an amused brow. "Now that sounds even better. But… could we bring them with us?"
"For now… we've at least managed to see each other, and that's a good start," said Trina gently. "Maybe next time you'll remember more clearly what we lived through in the past. Perhaps not everything — we did travel through time more than once, after all — but from now on, things may begin to change."
"I'll be waiting for that moment," Miquella replied, his calm gaze filled with longing for those fractured dreams.
Trina lowered her eyes briefly, weighing the gravity of her own words. "I think we should end for today. Though time in the dream world is infinite… you need to wake up. I know how much we both long to reunite with our sister."
Miquella stepped closer, unwilling to let the moment fade. "Will I be able to see you out there?"
Trina shook her head softly. "Not yet… but you'll feel me beside you. You'll hear my voice, and in time I'll be able to manifest more fully. At first, I'll only be a shadow, a presence… almost like a ghost. But the day will come," she said, lifting her hand to brush his, "when our bodies will touch — not only in dreams, but also in the physical world."
They slowly withdrew their hands, stepping back in perfect sync, their eyes still locked together.
"I don't want to say goodbye… but it comforts me to know you're with me. I don't think I'll ever feel alone again, as long as you're near… yet there's still one thing I want…"
Trina nodded, as if reading his mind like an open book. Then, in perfect unison, both let their clothes fall, revealing their naked forms before each other. They looked — youthful, yet divine in their beauty, like newly sculpted celestial beings.
"I'm pretty as a girl," said Miquella.
"I'm pretty as a boy," added Trina.
Then, step by step, they closed the distance between them. Their bodies met, arms entwining in a tender embrace. Their lips joined in a paradoxical kiss, while their hands explored each other's bodies. The contact grew more fervent, the passion deeper.
And in that kiss — that union of "conceptual twins" — darkness consumed them both as the dream world dissolved.
...
Miquella felt pain again — exhaustion, thirst, and fatigue. His body begged to fall once more into the painless dream, that sanctuary of oblivion.
He opened his eyes slowly, recognizing the place bit by bit. The air was thick with the scent of blood around them… but above it all was another aroma — warm, familiar, and deeply comforting: the scent of his sister, Malenia. Before him, that vivid red hair, so emblematic of their lineage, confirmed she was there.
Without hesitation, Miquella embraced the towering figure of over two meters thirty, burying himself against her chest in wordless joy. And at that same moment, he felt another joy within him — distinct, yet inseparably his own: Trina was there too. He could sense her, feel her thoughts and emotions intertwined with his. They were one again. Words were unnecessary — they already knew each other's hearts.
It was a true family reunion. That day, Miquella had regained two of his kin, though many more remained to be found. Now he understood it all was part of a greater game — a divine war from which he could not escape. He would be one of the many kings upon that celestial board, ready to give everything: whether to defy the Greater Will, to earn his place before Ilúvatar… or simply to bring his family together once more.
Miquella would play this divine game. And this time, he would not allow himself to lose.