[He nods slowly - not the slowness of one who doubts, but that of one who is, in this very moment, accepting the truth. It is, after all, a truth that has lurked in the periphery of his thoughts since the moment he awoke. Something is unnatural here; this much, he has known from the beginning, by his very presence.]

[And yet, slower still, it begins to dawn on him that it may not be as unnatural nor as fearsome as he thought. Stranger than anything he has said, perhaps, is the look of near-relief, of hope, that touches his expression for a moment.]

Or it may be simpler still by far. For is it not said that even Manwë himself does not know what becomes of the souls of Men, when their bodies fail them?

Does it not seem natural that whatever passes beyond life, it would be something we would share?