Galadriel/Celeborn
(50 years before the Lord of the Rings)
I am respected and loved, as I have been all my days. A devoted husband by my side, who is patient, who loves and endures beyond all asking.
And I am happy with these things.
I am Galadriel, the Lady of the Golden Wood.
I see much, and far, I walk with the last Elven Lords on Middle Earth.
I have much, am much, and is it thus surprising that pride shall, on occasion creep into my heart?
I must school even my thoughts, keeping my heart from my Lord Celeborn so that he will not see these sins that disgrace me.
Pride, always, first and foremost. Daughter of Finarfin, niece of Feanor, granddaughter of Finwe, could it be any different? I have always struggled, battling my cursed pride and the shadows of my famous ancestor. Rather, the lack of his shadow. Few here know my story.
I admit this here only to the stars. In my pride and cursed bitterness, when the Valar placed the Ban on the Noldor, I wished to leave forever, to stay on Middle Earth and rule a vast kingdom. Ever since Amroth fled Lothlorien, leaving my Lord and I to care for his people, I have longed for nothing more than the sun of the Undying Lands.
But always, in these latter days my pride stands before me and the place I long to be. I will wait here, if I have to, until the end of the earth.
Celeborn knows of my pride, of course, although he must think it somewhat tempered by my Exile here. He told me once, in the Hidden City, that he loved me for my strength of will (although do not mistake me, we are not shy about talking of our love for each other, and listing the ways) and when I demurred, he told me that he loved me for my heart. If only he knew the things, I struggle against.
Envy, covetousness. I covet the Enemy's Ring. I know I am not alone in this but no less does this burn my soul. I should not be like this; I should be as others see me, wise and powerful, beyond mortal emotions and failings. But these so called 'mortal failings and emotions'- I should not forget, the Elves invented them first.
I am afraid. Ever since Mithrandir came back from his journey to the Lonely Mountain, a cold finger of fear has touched my heart. He tells the story lightly enough, and it is not the dragon that chills me. It is the ring. He mentioned it lightly, assuming I suspect that it is one of the lesser rings, lost in the time when Celebrimbor was slain. I admit, so did I. So do I.
I'm just afraid...that I'll fail.
That contact even with one of the lesser rings will make me take it for my own.
(The Fellowship has just left Lothlorien)
I stood, waving farewell to our guests. "Namarie!"
I turned away, and met the cool silver eyes of my husband who regarded me silently. The smile on his lips that disappeared as he turned to our people who were gathered around, although his eyes smiled still for those who could see it.
"The guard at our borders needs replacing; they have been out many days. Send Haldir to me when the sun touches the horizon in the west."
I must talk with you.
I hear his strong voice in my mind and nod, and though his back is to me, I know he hears. We meet on Cerin Amroth, with elanor flowers all around, like a carpet of scented gold. On top of the hill, Amroth's ruined talan shone in the afternoon sun.
You have closed your mind to me.
My lord, you know why I do this thing.
You are ashamed of something.
It is not a question, and so I open my mind to him again, letting him see that which I have kept hidden.
He stares at me for a long time, his face still. I cannot read him.
Galadriel...There is a long pause, and for all my icy exterior, my heart beats faster.
You have not failed. You did today the only thing that could possibly make my love, which I already thought was endless and unbreakable, even stronger.
I look at him and there is a smile on his face, and a look he rarely shows, one of such love that I am overwhelmed. For as he says this, and I hear the truth in his voice, another truth comes to me, unbidden. Like the noise of a thousand sweet bells, like the water of Nimrodel, like the light of the Two Trees. The Ban is lifted.
He kissed me softly, passionately and then pulled away. "You are leaving."
It is not a question; he knows how much I long for Valinor, for the Undying Lands.
We understand each other, he knows I am leaving, just as I know he is staying and we will not argue, though I love him as he loves me, and neither of us wishes to part.
He journeys with me, and many of our folk follow, singing and talking in the clear morning. Elrond and Mithrandir greet us along the way, and we talk long into the night. Middle earth still calls to my husband, although for me the only charm in it now after all the long years was his presence, and that of my family, my son-in law, granddaughter and grandsons. Elrond's sons at least are coming with us, though Arwen has stayed. We near the harbour, and ahead of us slowly goes Bilbo and Frodo, both nodding on their ponies. The sea glints ahead of us and Celeborn and I fall behind. I expected him to leave me here, so firm he is in his desire to stay. We walk slowly, I can feel his heart beating and we talk silently, say those things we cannot say aloud.
He enters the harbour, stands tall by my side.
Mithrandir helps Bilbo aboard, and despite my sadness, I cannot help but smile at the pair they make. The tiny, elderly hobbit and the tall and stately wizard.
Elrond's mind brushes mine as he walks past. He is burdened with sadness and joy, like my Lady and I. She is leaving me to my forests. I am leaving her to the sea.
The white ship drew away from the docks, but I was not standing with the hobbits to see it. I am determined to stay, although the tears that sting my eyes tell me my resolve is not as firm as I'd thought. From this hilltop, I can watch the small boat as it sails out of the harbour, my white lady aboard it. Elrond's dark figure was visible beside her for a moment, but as the ship gets further away, all I can see is her.
A last thought before she disappears.
When in the springtime of the year
When the trees are crowned with leaves
When the ash and oak, and the birch and yew
Are dressed in ribbons fair
When owls call the breathless moon
In the blue veil of the night
The shadows of the trees appear
Amidst the lantern light
The songs of birds seem to fill the wood
That when the fiddler plays
All their voices can be heard
Long past their woodland days
See you in Valinor.