Author's Notes/Disclaimers: Another drumroll please for this chapter! Since returning from my international trip I have been slammed with work and other events. Today is actually my birthday—this is my gift to you! At any rate, the usual: anything recognizable belongs to Tolkien, the rest is my creation. The Quenyan lyrics for the selection from Into the West taken from elvish-org-gwaith-tothewest-htm (each - being a DOT; website address). Elvish words from The Council of Elrond website. Artanis is Galadriel's true name in Noldorin. As always, please read and REVIEW!

Morifinwiel's Return

As Námo spoke, I felt hot tears falling from my eyes. I recalled my grandsire Fëanor in all his glory as Prince of the Noldor: standing tall against the glow of his furnace, dark hair framing his face, gray eyes alight with the pride of his work. He took such pleasure and delight from his tireless smithy work, constructing many things. Fëanor would teach me his craft, pleased I took interest in his work. I was happy he was proud of me. I adored and worshipped him as an elfling, loved him for his fierce spirit and pride. He was not afraid of anyone or anything.

Lady Nerdanel was always there in his smithy, working alongside him. I often stole away to watch them at work and to observe their relationship. They were always together, content with each other's company. They did not have to speak; just to be in one another's presence was enough for them. At times my grandsire would feign complete focus on his work, but his gaze would be fixed upon his wife. His eyes would light up whenever she turned to face him, and her breath would catch in her throat when their eyes met. Even Beren and Lúthien's love does not compare to what my grandparents had.

I have wanted Fëanor and Nerdanel's passion and devotion in a relationship for as long as I can remember. It is what I felt towards Thranduil, what I hoped he would reciprocate. We did share that...until he learned of my true heritage.

Perhaps I am not so very different from my mother. Unlike me, she did not lie: she ceased to believe in herself or anyone else...Yet who am I to judge? I am the liar. At least she did not betray my father's trust like I betrayed Thranduil's faith in me. In this I am like my father and grandsire—we all share a habit of reaching our goals through devious methods. The sins of my parents passed onto me, and I judged them harshly for their actions—only to repeat them myself...

Námo's stern gaze brought me out of my reverie. I had not thought much of Fëanor since hearing of his death thousands of years ago, and when I did, my emotions were torn between hate and love. However, as the sweet memories of old rushed back, I felt a slight pang of sadness that someone as free-spirited as he was now locked away like a feral beast-despite knowing that he was there for a valid reason.

"Nanyë nyérinqua (I am sad)...," I whispered to my grandsire, echoing Námo as I addressed him from afar, causing the Valar to stare at me once more. "The fire of your spirit ravished your wisdom, blinded you from the correct path. I fear that I will never be able to have new, sweet memories of you. My thoughts about you of late have only borne ill will, but now I pity you slightly. It seems that I am like you: we are destined to follow our passions, and in doing so we become blinded by our desires. We stop at nothing to gain what we want. This passionate drive of our fear has led to your downfall and mine...

"But your legacy of creating beautiful masterpieces must live on. I shall return to Endorenna to prove that the strength of our great and noble Noldorin House—the House of Fëanor—is not easily overcome. It was we Noldor who built the greatest cities in Endorenna, just as we built the greatest cities in Valinor. I will ensure that our heritage continues through me. Our traditions will not die so long as I live.

"Forevermore when I recall you, I will think of the joyous times we shared in your smithy. I will recall fondly your handsome face, your the tall stance, and the proud manner in which you conducted yourself. Tenn' omentielva enta (until our next meeting)!"

The Valar continued staring at me as if I had forgotten something. Images of my mother swam before my eyes, and I felt as if the Valar had willed them upon me.

"Mother...I cannot pretend that your abandonment has not affected me, that it has not made me hate you with vivid fierceness," I began, speaking aloud very slowly. "I did hate you...at first. But now I realize that you were simply naive. You fell in love with the idea of being wedded to a Fëanorian without realizing the cost that you would pay. You sought the glory and prestige of being the wife of a Fëanorian without considering their fierceness, wrought by the passion of following their hearts and pride. I do not think you were ever truly in love with Father.

"When you realized this, it was far too late, so you withdrew from your daughters because we reminded you of your union to a man you did not fully love and understand. The thought of returning home and confessing what you had done—marrying a man out of false ambition and then abandoning your daughters out of weakness and shame-was too much for you to bear, so you isolated yourself.

"It seems that for all my likeness to my father and grandsire, this is the one trait that I inherited from you: a blindness of the heart. I truly believed that Thranduil would forgive me for deceiving him about my past. I did not appreciate his feelings, his pride. And now here I am, ruined, because I fell in love with the idea of being in love with him. It is my curse, my burden to bear.

"But I lie to myself! Melinyel, Thranduil (I love you, Thranduil)! I love your pride, your arrogance, the manner in which you conduct yourself. You exude power and authority in a way similar to my kin. I will not deny that the Noldor, particularly the Fëanorians, have always commanded and expected reverence from and sovereignty over others in all aspects of their lives. This is what I am, and what I crave in my spouse.

"As harsh and dominating as Thranduil may seem to the world, to those he loves, he is truly tender, kind, and loyal. The days I spent with him were my happiest...he was my Fëanor, and I felt like his Lady Nerdanel—for it is their love that I have always coveted and yearned for myself. But for my own arrogance, I would be at Thranduil's side now...

"Mother, Vanië does not bode well on the hither shores. She is like you: of gentle nature and soft constitution. Her spirit lies in peace and tranquility. Vanië must return to you, for she will be a great comfort.

"She and I have had a great falling out; I have not been there for her like I should have, have not cared for her like she needed. Vanië reminds me of you with her constant brooding—and so I abandoned her like you did us. Perhaps indeed I am not so very different from you after all!

"Sadly, I cannot return to Valinor, to you, to my birthplace, for many reasons. The most important of them is that I do not feel a connection to Valinor like I once did. Your abandonment accounts for part of these feelings, as well as my shame and guilt over the Kinslaying. When Vanië returns to you, I will have her explain everything by showing you my enchanted journal. Though I long ago dreamed of coming back to my first home, it is no longer suitable for me. There is no life for me in the Blessed Realm. I do not expect you to understand or appreciate why; I just need you to accept this decree of fate. I sincerely hope that you have found peace at last."

No sooner had I finished bidding farewell to my mother than I felt hot tears on my cheeks. My mother's face flashed before me, with her innocent eyes and the silk-soft blonde hair I had envied since I was an elfling. I felt a surge of intense grief and knew that my message had been relayed to her. I was now ready to return to my body.

"I am ready now," I stated aloud to the Valar.

The image of Mandos and the gathered Valar before me was starting to fade. It was Manwë's voice that I heard last:

"Go now, child, and return to the land that you love. Know that I will continue to watch over you. Return to your body in peace, and with all of our blessings. May you find that which you truly desire and deserve. Namarië, Vanimë Morifinwiel."

Námo's abode began to disappear before my eyes. First, the edges of the hall dwindled slowly until all I could see were the five Valar. Before, I could see their faces clearly, but now all that was visible were five figures shrouded in mist. A faint aura of light emanated from each of them, and I could still feel their power enveloping me.

I had heard stories of mortals who had been summoned to Mandos, and upon seeing the Valar, only came upon veiled figures of light. Had I now become like these Atani (Men)? Was I no longer afforded the honor of seeing the Valar since I had decided to remain in Endorenna? Was I now banned from all connections to my home, including beholding the Valar as I once did?

Then there was a flash of light so bright that all I could see was white before me. A chill gradually poured into me, starting from my head and slowly creeping down into my toes. The cold was so intense it reminded me of the Helcaraxë. Was I meant to cross it once more, my final proof to the Valar that I truly intended to stay in Endorenna? fëar gripped me then, as I knew that I would not be able to find my way through the icy, treacherous pass alone. I would roam the Helcaraxë until Time ended, just as my grandsire was meant to stay in Mandos. The sins of my fathers were upon me. The Valar were testing me one final time.

The white light began to dissipate slowly. Through the rays of light I imagined a figure standing ahead of me. As my eyes began to focus, I realized that there was indeed someone present. Golden hair and a shimmering white gown—Lady Galadriel was waiting for me. She held a harp and was singing the same song that Nienna had sung:

"A Caita carelya ammelda ar moiana (Lay down your sweet and weary head)

Lanta i lómë, utúlielyë tiëo mettanna (Night is falling; you have to come to journey's end)

A lorë si, ar óla len i epë tuller (Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before)

Entë yaitar hrestallo pella (They are calling from across a distant shore)

"Man cenilyë eccaianna? (What can you see on the horizon?)
Manen i maiwi ninqui yaitar? (Why do the white gulls call?)
Arta i Eär Isil néca amorta (Across the sea a pale moon rises)
Ciryar utúlier an yulu le márelya (The ships have come to carry you home)
Rómen ahyuva ve hyellë telpina(And all will turn to silver glass)
i cála nenissë, ilyë fëar autar (A light on the water, all souls pass)

"I Estel vinta ambarenna lómëo (Hope fades into the world of night)
Ter fuini lantala, pella enyalië ar lúmë (Through shadows falling out of memory and time)
Áva quetë: "Si utúlielwë mettanna" (Do not say: "We have come now to the end")
Hresta ninquë yáma, elyë ar inyë ata ómentuvalwë (White shores are calling, you and I will meet again)"

"Artanis, what brings you...wherever we are?" I said, rising slowly and shakily to my feet.

She did not respond immediately. She placed the harp on the grass beside her. In several bounds she had cleared the distance between us and wrapped her strong arms around my waist. She then helped me reach an ornately carved stone bench and eased me into a sitting position on it.

"Oh, my dear, it is wonderful that you have returned!" she said, smiling through silver tears.

I was confused, unsure of where we were, though our surroundings looked vaguely familiar to me. The white light had gone away, and I found myself sitting in a forest. Galadriel still did not answer me, instead fussing over my hair. Again, I asked:

"Artanis, where are we?"

The slight sharpness of my voice caught her attention.

"Do you not recognize this place?" she asked.

I looked around more carefully at the lush, green clearing. Birds sang and flitted through the trees. Small animals scurried about; one tiny brown rabbit stopped and sniffed curiously at us before continuing on its way. Its delicate pink nose crinkled as it sniffed, bright eyes watching us carefully. I sensed an aura of hidden authority, of concealment almost: there was great magic and power here.

"It cannot be...this place was destroyed eons ago..." I whispered, not daring to believe what I felt so strongly in my heart.

"Do you doubt your own memory of this place you treasure so dearly?" Galadriel said, her fingers deftly twisting my unruly hair into a braid.

"Doriath no longer exists! This is unreal!"

"Your mind and heart have not forgotten Doriath; you see through them now that which you miss most. This is as real as when you are fully awake. You have been through much, and were granted your wish. Your body is resting; your mind is providing a calm environment to restore vitality to it. When we rest, unlike mortals, our minds lie in waking dreams. Your body, in an attempt to regain its former strength, has been forced into a dream-state in order to heal. Do not fight this, Vanimë. Relax...Ease your fëa (spirit)."

As Galadriel spoke, I allowed myself to become calm. Her last sentence surprised me, however, so I turned to face her.

Her face, though ageless, was not as radiant as I recalled. To mortals, the subtle differences would be undetectable, but to the edhil (elves) they were noticeable. Her eyes gave away how weary she was. For one rare, unguarded moment, I was able to clearly evaluate just how exhausted and worn out she was-yet in the next instant it was gone. Galadriel's protective wall had gone back up again.

How could she have known what had happened to me? I was in Mandos, a place removed from the reaches and thoughts of all who live.

"Is there naught that you do not know?" I asked. "Is nothing secret from you?"

Galadriel smiled then, a calculated smile that relayed a great sense of pride.

"I have been afforded a wealth of knowledge that others cannot hope to gain," she replied slowly. "But for this situation, what helped me was the connection I feel to you. As you struggled in fëa (spirit) and hroa (body), your fëa called out to those you hold dear. Thus I was able to discern much through your thoughts and emotions."

"Tell me, did I make the right choice? What would you have done?" I implored her.

Galadriel's hands faltered as she finished braiding my hair. The light returned to her eyes, and once more I felt the divide fall away from her thoughts. I was able to perceive her mind again. There was a great sadness and longing for Valinor, her home. Her heart had grown heavy with the cares of the Galadhrim, the centuries of strife to keep evil at bay. She wanted to go back West, to Valinor, to rest and seek peace. She no longer sought to rule, to have her own dominion. Her only fear was the Valar's opinion of her: whether or not they would grant her pardon and clemency to return home.

"There is no right or wrong choice in this case, my dear. There is only what is best for you," she said. "You cannot compare yourself with me. We are so very different. You have suffered tragedies and hardships far worse than mine. You were forced to journey here; you had no free will in the matter. Both of your parents left you and your sister, Vanië, to fend for yourselves. You had to look after her, as well as yourself, which was no easy task. Creating new lives to bury your shameful past must have been terrible. It is no wonder that you have desired to be loved, to have stability for once. But alas, even love has proven detrimental for you. I cannot imagine what I would have done..."

"You would have been truthful; you would not have let pride and deceit be your ruin," I replied.

Galadriel laughed, laughed until her entire body shook from her laughter. I had not see her in such a state for countless years. Her eyes glowed with happiness as she spoke to me:

"My dear Vanimë, do you forget that I am a Noldo like you? I have my pride, the pride of being a Noldo. It is within our very nature; it is something that we cannot hide. From the moment we are born, we Noldo elflings are taught to honor our heritage, to not let fear dominate our hearts. We defend our nobility and lineage with such fierceness that to those who do not know us, we appear harsh and unkind-but it is only the passion of our blood that drives us so. Our kin, yours particularly, have created marvelous wonders that are still revered and spoken highly of to this day. Being a Noldo is a fortuitous privilege not bestowed upon all.

"There is no shame in declaring your ancestry. What you did wrong was to lie to Thranduil for so long about your real nature. You knew deep within your soul that he would react negatively when he found out the truth about you-but you were torn between preserving those blissful moments with him and the risk of losing him forever. The fact that you lied about being Noldorin is the very reason you find yourself where you are now. Had Thranduil not felt threatened by you as he clung to the past, events would have turned out very differently. Of this I am certain. Alas, though, Eru has willed what He has willed to pass. Verily, He lets nothing pass that is without purpose. Trust in Him."

I was quiet for a few moments before saying, "There are times when I feel alone, as if no one is able to understand me, and that despite everything I have done, Thranduil is the only one who will ever appreciate me."

Galadriel did not answer for several minutes, and her silence was eerie and haunting. I felt that she was hesitant about revealing something to me. Finally, she spoke:

"At times I feel distant from my husband because I am a Noldo, but I know that he loves me...Sometimes, though, I wonder what he truly thinks...Finding someone you are comfortable with and who appreciates you is not easy: I myself was fortunate to have met my Lord...But do not worry yourself with me! Focus on healing!" Galadriel said, patting my hands gently. I felt honored to have seen a vulnerable side of her.

She paused for a few moments before resuming, closing her mind from me at last:

"I understand why you chose to remain in Endorenna. Perhaps you have endured more than others; perhaps you have more guilt and shame than others-or perhaps these things are only your perception. In the end, you must choose what will make you whole."

She stepped away from me then, looking me over, before giving a little nod as if satisfied. She motioned for me to stand next to a small pool of water. Confused yet again, I followed her directions.

"We Eldar are meant to endure until Time ends. Otherwise we fade and diminish. You have done this; you have begun to fade. Now you must stop-stop punishing yourself for what is past, what you could not and cannot control. There is nothing for you to prove; the Valar have pardoned and blessed you. You must return to Life."

With her finals words, the pool shimmered around my image. A light I had not seen since leaving Valinor emanated around me. I felt less weighted down by my troubles, freer.

"The Vanimë I know is full of songs and laughter, dances under moon and starlight. She delights all she meets, dazzles the hearts of men, and her desires know no boundaries. She is as proud as she is kind, as mirthful as she is serious. She is a true Fëanorian, Noldorin princess. She deserves to be her true self without fear," Galadriel said. "Vanimë, let go of Amorith. She has served you well in your time of need, but she cannot continue to exist. If you must access her, do so only when necessary. Amorith is not your true self, Vanimë Morifinwiel."

The pool's surface rippled violently. My image twisted and turned several times before the water stood still again. When I finally looked down, anxious of what I would discover, the reflection staring back at me was one I had not seen in centuries: a softer countenance with hidden pride and bright, shining eyes; most importantly, the Light of Aman was issuing from my face—the Two Trees' Light.

"Essenya Vanimë Morifinwiel (Vanimë Morifinwiel is my name)," I said, using the words of my mother tongue. "I have come back to be with the one I truly love, the one who deserves me. The Valar have pardoned me. I have nothing to be ashamed of, save that I have denied myself true happiness for many years. But no longer."

The Lady of Light was quiet, looking at me with a sad half-smile. Taking both my hands in hers, she clasped them tightly.

"Vanimë, I must caution you to be wary with your heart and with the promises you make to yourself and others. Though we all crave love, it is best to be with the one who loves you completely. Do not aspire for love so desperately that you give yourself to anyone who is seeking you. Doing so means that you will waste all of Time trying to be a man's beloved, trying to achieve his dreams, but failing because you have altered yourself beyond recall. You are a Noldo—the one who loves you must not dampen your fëa. Remember that well when the time comes."

Then, just as mysteriously as she had come, Galadriel vanished, leaving me to ponder her words, echoing Nienna's final statement to me: "You will wed the one who has truly captured your heart and soul."