Much to Artanis' disappointment, Finrod was neither shocked nor impressed by her explanation that Celeborn was building a ship to sail to Middle Earth. "I've always wondered why the Teleri have never bothered to sail east of the Skerries, even though they've still got kin stranded back on the far shore. I've asked a few captains. It seems that things always go wrong for the boldest explorers, like Galadhon, and they end up being rescued by Ossë."
"But we've got the Skerries now," Artanis protested. "And they've got water. And Celeborn isn't just thinking about wandering across the Sea for fun. He's really serious!"
"Alright," Finrod sighed. "I would like to at least find out what happened to Elw's people. They're our relatives too. But I don't want you to bring anyone else into it. Our relatives here are fun people, but some of them don't have a lot of sense. Except, we should get Dad's and the Valar's permission first."
"I figured I'd have to tell Dad. I don't want to get disowned too. But you don't want to tell Fingon? And all your friends?"
"We call him Fingon the Valiant, not Fingon-the-Particularly-Clever. He's another genius at getting into trouble, and this little venture is dangerous enough to start with. Once we've been over there and sized things up, we can come back and bring some of the others. Speaking at avoiding trouble on the first trip, let's definitely leave your friend Celebrimbor out of the loop."
"It's too late for that; he already knows. But I haven't told anyone except you. And I think Celeborn's brother, Galathil, knows, but he doesn't get out of Alqualondë very often."
"Is Celebrimbor likely to tell Fëanor?" asked Finrod anxiously.
"No," Artanis shook her head. "No, he's still afraid of getting caught for blowing up the dam."
"Good," said Finrod firmly. "Because a free ticket to Middle Earth is exactly what Fëanor wants, and I feel badly for the Dark Elves once he gets there, because they'll be getting a new high king, whether they want one or not."
"I wouldn't want him for High King!" muttered Artanis.
"Good! So just keep quiet about it."
It wasn't hard to persuade Finrod to turn aside from returning to Tirion.
" We need to go to the sea, by the mouth of the Ringnen. Olórin wants me to meet a friend of his, and it's not far from where Celeborn's lumber is," Artanis explained. "I hope they'll help us."
"Olórin probably will. And any friend of his is going to be a Maia as well." Finrod speculated. Artanis shrugged. Olórin was inscrutable enough on his own. She had no idea what sort of friends he had.
They avoided Alqualondë on the way and rode along the shore of the Sea. Artanis wondered what Celeborn was doing, and how she was going to get the lumber to him. And who Olórin's friend was. Finrod looked over at her every so often, as if he were about to say something, but remained silent.
They had almost reached the river when a couple of elves stepped out of the trees and hailed her. "You've come for... on Lord Celeborn's business, highness?"
They must be two of Celeborn's mariners, she realized, with their ragged clothes. There were others still in the woods, watching. They looked over at Finrod anxiously. He kept his expression stern, betraying nothing.
"I need to take care of something first." Artanis informed them with a confidence that she certainly didn't feel. She rode on towards the river and Finrod followed her.
The Ringnen roared out of the mountains into the sea with an enthusiasm that it probably hadn't been able to muster for centuries. A wild pony grazed near its shores, and birds twittered in the trees, but otherwise Finrod and Artanis were alone.
"A nice place to wait." Finrod ran an admiring eye over the landscape as he got off his horse.
Artanis looked around as she dismounted, then handed Finrod the reins and walked over to the pony.
The pony looked up and said, "Well, at least you've learned to be punctual." He turned to the sea and made a strange sound, something between an owl's cry and a whistle, but much deeper. An answering call came up from under the waves, and a huge, dark shape split the surface of the water. A spray of water came up from it, and it moved in towards the shore. Artanis watched in fascination and started in surprise when she realized her brother had come up behind her.
"Lord Ossë, may I present their highnesses, Prince Finrod and Princess Artanis of the Noldor," Olórin-the-pony said to the huge creature that had risen halfway above the water. At least, Artanis hoped it was half out of the water; it was enormous, a great, lumpy grey animal with beady black eyes the size of dinner plates.
"Lady Artanis," the creature said in its deep warbling voice (at least Artanis knew that that was what it said; afterwards she could not be sure that it had spoken in Quenya), "I have heard very impressive reports of you. Of course, the young man could be biased..."
"Oh." Artanis swallowed. "Is... is Celeborn alright?"
"Sound in mind and body, but he wants to go home. And after that, he wants to explore the world. And he wants... so many things. It is easy to tell that he is young." Ossë laughed, although it did not sound like laughter.
"Could you help us? Please?" Artanis asked desperately. "I've got to send him the lumber for a ship. It's already cut and everything."
"This I can do quite easily. But should I? This is what I have been wondering." Ossë settled deeper in the water and the laughter was gone from his voice now.
"Look, we aren't planning to do anything wrong! But if Celeborn doesn't have a ship, he'll be stuck on the Skerries or in Alqualondë for years! We just want to go to Middle Earth. We're going to help the elves who've been left behind or decided to stay behind or whatever it was they did..."
Ossë whistled a note of grief. "The Forsaken have weighed heavily on my heart for many, many years. But are you sure, Princess of the Noldor, that they want your help?"
"I... I can't do much here. And there's a lot I can do over there! All your family have been teaching me things that the Eldar couldn't do before we came here..."
"You are not alone in your ambitions. Your brothers, your cousins, your other kin, I have heard, all weary of waiting to take their lives in their own hands, to take charge of lands and nations of their own, to accomplish great things without the help of the Valar. Don't you see how wrong these hopes could go?"
Artanis thought of Fëanor and his speeches and shuddered.
But Ossë sighed and turned in the water. "I know you mean well, daughter of the Noldor. But what you hope for and what I foresee are very different. In many ways, it is already decided. You will do far less wrong than most. Your heart is kinder than your mind is clever or than your ambition is keen. I put my trust in kindness. I will bring your Celeborn his timber and let come what may, for I know it is too late to stop it."
He meant something other than the ship, Artanis realized, and if he knew exactly what the dark shadow he saw in her future was, he would probably tell her more. But Ossë pulled away from the shore and subsided beneath the waves.
After Artanis directed the mariners to pole their rafts, laden with boards from the Ringnen into the Sea, and watched Ossë bear them away eastwards, there was nothing left to do but wait. Over the next few months, she struggled desperately to remember what Olórin had said about waiting, but could come up with nothing but that it was hard.
When she and Finrod got back home, her mother handed her a letter. "From Galathil," she told Artanis guilelessly. Artanis took it up to her room before opening it; much as she'd hoped, it was from Celeborn rather than Galathil. It didn't say much, just that things were very dull out in the Skerries and that he hoped that her projects were going very well. He means the lumber, she thought irritably. Doesn't even ask me how I am, and he doesn't even say anything about missing me. That last was a little hard to think about. What if he really did just care about the lumber? He admired her, but, she admitted miserably to herself, what he really wanted most in all the world was his freedom, and without the ship he would never have it.
Finrod brought her strange and disturbing news a couple of days after their return. "Middle Earth might not be the place to go for a nice vacation. Melkor's gone, and Dad was saying to Mother that he would have gone back home, to his old fortresses there."
Artanis was stunned. "Did he say why?"
Finrod shrugged. "The Valar had worked out who spread the rumors that got Fëanor to attack Fingolfin, then decided that Melkor needed to come talk to them. But he stayed just one step ahead of their messenger and kept right on talking to people. And the Valar didn't bother to tell anyone that he was in trouble. Rumor has it that his last stop was Formenos, a few hours after we left."
Artanis shuddered. "Who says he's really gone?"
"Mother says that he was seen from Alqualondë, heading north and then east."
"But, that's towards the Ice. I guess you could get to Middle Earth that way..."
"If you were Valar, sure. The only elvish explorer to try that path was Galadhon. Had to turn back, obviously."
Artanis turned away. "Look, the Valar will just catch Melkor again. And this time they'll keep him chained up. And if they don't, that's all the more reason to go to Middle Earth and help the elves who were left behind."
"Maybe," Finrod watched her closely. "Still, let's wait for the Valar to get him back here before we set sail."
Celebrimbor eventually visited, but much to Artanis' frustration, knew nothing about Melkor's visit. "I saw him arrive, and I heard him leave, but he talked to Grandfather alone, made him really angry. He didn't get what he wanted, whatever that was. Good riddance to him!" He changed the subject.
Even with Melkor gone and Fëanor banished, there still seemed to be trouble among the Noldor. Artanis got home one afternoon to find her uncle Fingolfin and her cousin Fingon in the parlor holding copies of the same terrible instrument that Fëanor had threatened Fingolfin with.
"No!" said Finarfin. "I'm not making any of those and that's final!"
"But what if Melkor returns?" Fingolfin pleaded. "We'll need something to defend ourselves."
"Those aren't going to scare Melkor! And who are we going to practice on? Each other? There's been enough of that already. I can't believe you're crazy enough to..." He broke off as he saw Artanis staring at them from the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. She turned and ran up to her room. She could hear her father start shouting at Fingolfin behind her.
Olórin seemed to have vanished as completely as Melkor and none of the Valar or Maiar had time for students in those days. It was rather unfortunate, as the young Noldor, left idle and alone, returned to town to drink and argue with each other. Artanis stayed to the house as much as possible. The Vanyar had mostly emigrated to Valimar, and Artanis couldn't blame them. Celebrimbor did not return to visit, which was a relief; that relationship had grown uncomfortable.
She visited Alqualondë once with her mother, and saw with relief that the trouble did not seem to have spread there. The Teleri continued to sail their ships and wander the beaches as if nothing were wrong. Her spirits lifted further when she saw Galathil, Celeborn's brother, sitting on the doorstep of her mother's townhouse.
"Hello, Auntie!" He jumped up, smiling broadly, and ran down the stairs to greet them.
"Hello, yourself," said Eärwen dryly. "As you haven't voluntarily come to see me during any of my previous visits, I assume that you are here to see my daughter. Don't get her into any trouble." With that, she swept into the house. The servants followed with her luggage. As soon as the last of them was through the door, Galathil handed her a scroll of parchment. Artanis looked at the seal carefully before she opened it: an eight-pointed tree. That would have to be Celeborn, as she knew that Galadhon's was a ship and a star and Galathil was too young to have a signet ring.
Celeborn only wrote what what he had written last time: that the Skerries were boring but not unpleasant, that he hoped that she and her family were well, that the ship was progressing well, and that he'd return soon to bring her to Middle Earth. No mention of Celebrimbor, she was amused to note. Still no mention that he had missed her. That was less amusing, but she'd expected that too.
"So, anything romantic?" Galathil leered at her.
Artanis glared back at him and wished him great heartache once he was old enough to notice. "Don't be dumb. I don't have sails or a hull. I'm amazed that your brother even notices me."
Galathil laughed heartily at her.
A week after her return to Tirion, Finarfin found Artanis huddled in the window seat, looking out at the square in front of the house. "Enough of your moping." He clapped his hands. "Get packed, we're going to the Festival up on Taniquetil. And we're going to be late arrivals as it is."
Artanis looked up, startled. "You mean that they're going to have the Festival again this year? With all the problems?"
"Skipping it could only make things worse," her father replied briskly. "The Valar will water the wine, have lots of dances, break up fights before they start, and everyone will go home in a much better mood."
The whole of Tirion seemed to agree that the Festival was the place to be. Much to Artanis' relief, everyone was dressed for a party. The weapons she had seen the Noldor carrying around Tirion lately were nowhere to be seen. There was music in the air, and she could already see people dancing in the meadow.
Fingon came out to meet them, a wineglass in his hand. "Fëanor's here," he remarked, as he led them to the main house. "He was ordered to be. But he was spiteful about it, so he made the rest of them stay at Formenos."
"He's usually so easy to spot." Finarfin craned his neck, looking around.
"Not this time. To show everyone how much he doesn't want to be here, he's left the Silmarils at home."
Artanis sighed. Her father's prediction that this Festival would make everyone forget the troubles seemed doomed already. Then the light of the Trees went out.