I sort of addressed this in History in Motion, but I wanted to go more in-depth with how Elenwë might have been feeling if she had lived to make it to Middle-Earth, dealing with… Not quite a crisis of faith as I understand it, but just wondering how she could have done this.
I own nothing.
Elenwë did not budge outside of her tent at night. When they had been locked in eternal darkness on the Helcaraxë, there had been no choice. She walked beneath Rána and the stars and the immeasurable darkness, and felt diminished and vulnerable beneath it. When Vása rose in the sky and she again had a choice between light and darkness, Elenwë chose the light. If she had to abandon the stars, at least she shunned blighted darkness alongside them.
She had abandoned the stars…
I have abandoned my entire upbringing.
It was dawn in this misty land; there was fog rising over the still Lake Mithrim. Elenwë sat on the shore, strewn with smooth gray stones and grit as it was, and stared out over the waters, ignoring as best she could the bitter chill that dug into her skin like knives. At this time of the day, there were few who came to the lake—even the fishermen who cast their nets in search of fish had not come yet. She was alone.
Elenwë wondered, sometimes, if it would have been easier if she had died. She could have arrived in Alqualondë soon enough to be slain by one of the Falmari. She could have starved in Araman or been slain by Orcs at the Battle of the Lammoth as Arakáno had been. She could have drowned on the Helcaraxë.
If she had died, Elenwë would have heeded the Doomsman's call, and she would have passed into the Houses of the Dead. Even if she had to dwell in that dread realm, barely even whispered of in Taniquetil, she would have at least been in Aman. Even if Elenwë was counted one of the Exiles (though she was not a Noldo), she would have had the chance to return to her beloved lands again. She could possibly have been accepted back into the fold.
But none of this had occurred. Elenwë, a Minya, one of the faithful people who in their entirety had traveled from Cuiviénen to Aman, had followed the Noldor. As the Noldor rebelled against the Vala, as they deliberately fled from Aman, as they took the lives of their kin in Alqualondë, Elenwë had followed them. There was no blood on her hands, but she shared in their guilt, for she had defiled the peace of Aman.
It was the only way I could stay with my daughter. I would never have seen Itarillë again if I had stayed in Aman. Nor would I have ever seen Turukáno again. It was the only way I could stay with the family I have built.
Did that excuse her? Elenwë drew her cloak closer about her shoulders, swallowing hard as the watched the mist quiver and twist in the breeze. In Taniquetil, in Tirion and in Alqualondë, wives were counseled to follow their husbands, to obey them in all things. Turukáno had expected Elenwë to follow him to Endóre, and Elenwë had done so. In Taniquetil, in Tirion and in Alqualondë, mothers were counseled to cleave to their children. Turukáno was taking Itarillë from Tirion in the darkness, so Elenwë chose to stay with her child. She had only done that which was expected of a wife of mother.
However, the Eldar were counseled by the Valar to be content with Aman. They were told that Aman, the blessed realm, would provide everything they could ever need or want. With the bliss and safety of Aman, who could ever have longed for distant lands? Who would be so impertinent?
But Elenwë had known many who had been restless, longing to see lands beyond Aman even if the Valar forbade it. Her sister-in-law, many of Turukáno's cousins, and many more besides among the Noldor. They were a frustrated people, but curious and ever staring east, towards the lands that most of their number had never seen. They wished to lay eyes upon the whole world, walk the earth from shore to shore in the lands they had left behind. Why were they to be cut off from Endóre, from their cousins who had never left that land? Why could they not explore the vast unknown?
And Elenwë knew many nissi who counted themselves wife or mother or both, who had not followed the common wisdom, and had either stayed in Aman when their husbands and children departed, or left without them. Lalwen's husband had not followed her to Aman. Anairë, Eärwen and Nerdanel had refused to follow their husbands at any point. Telpalma and Eldalótë had also refused. Findaráto had begged Amarië to agree to wed so that she could follow him with no scandal, and she had all but spat in his face at the suggestion.
Elenwë had felt no curiosity for Endóre before the Darkening, and felt no curiosity for it now. Irissë protested regularly to be allowed to explore Endóre at length, but Elenwë wished to see none of it. This land was but a pale shadow of Aman. And yet, she had not refused to leave it as others had. She had not found that courage within her.
"If you leave, then I do not know you," her mother said in a low, harsh voice. "If you leave, you are not the daughter I bore. I did not travel over mountain and river and face perils great to come here, just to watch you throw it all away."
She had nothing here, and apparently nothing to return to, either.
What did it mean, for a Minya to forsake Aman?
Elenwë's people had always believed in the promises of the Valar. They had lived in the bliss of Aman, and had been blissful, indeed. Though there might have been some small undercurrents of discontent, they had never felt the unrest of the Noldor. They were content to dwell on the slopes of Taniquetil unto the breaking of the world, rarely giving any thought to the kin they had left behind in Endóre, except to hold them as misguided and inferior for not believing in that promise, or not having the courage to see the journey through to the end. Who would wish to return to such a state, groping in the dark and ever fearing for their own safety? Who would wish to be so thoroughly cut off from the Valar and the bliss of Aman?
Who would ever wish to forsake the stars?
Elenwë heard a branch snap behind her, and climbed to her feet. She was somehow unsurprised by who she saw standing at the tree line. Artanis stared at her with an indecipherable expression, remote as always, looking like a young willow tree with a trunk made from blue wool, the color of her cloak.
Elenwë was not all that familiar with Artanis. Artanis and Irissë had grown closer over their march on the Helcaraxë, so Elenwë had begun seeing and being in close proximity with her more often than usual, but this nís remained to her enigmatic. Artanis's mind was a closed book; Elenwë could draw nothing from it. But what she did have was an image rising to the surface of her mind: the torches flickering, the blood congealing on the white quays of Alqualondë, and Artanis standing by herself, sword clenched in one hand, looking more lost and small than Elenwë had ever seen her look.
"Artanis…" Elenwë gazed unsmilingly at her kinswoman, forcing herself to hold Artanis's piercing green stare. "…Do you ever feel…" She paused, frowning. "…Do you ever feel like an apostate?"
Artanis did not answer, and as Elenwë passed by her to return to the camp, she felt that green stare on her back the whole way.
Arakáno—Argon
Itarillë—Idril
Turukáno—Turgon
Findaráto—Finrod
Irissë—Aredhel
Artanis—Galadriel
Rána—the Exilic name for the Moon, signifying 'The Wanderer' (Quenya)
Vása—the Exilic name for the Sun, signifying 'The Consumer' (Quenya)
Falmari—those among the Teleri who completed the journey to Aman; the name is derived from the Quenya falma, '[crested] wave.'
Minyar—the name of the first clan of the Elves and the precursors of the Vanyar, derived from the names of Imin and Iminyë, the first Vanyar; the name still favored by many of the Vanyar in Aman (singular: Minya) (adjective form: Minyarin)
Endóre—Middle-Earth (Quenya)
Nissi—women (singular: nís)