Wolf of Numenor

by keller.blair1

Jon snow the bastard of Eddard Stark has spent the last six years in Highgarden finding true friends among the reach lords and ensnared the heart of the golden rose. His Journey shall take him to lands far from the shores of Westeros and here he shall find true kinship among the faithful. Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien sinomë maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta.

59. Love of Lothlorien and a venture East

Kindly leave a review Jon's time in the Mansions of Durin has come to an end and now he must ensare the heart of the fair lady and venture east to the lands of the Vinter Lords

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Half a century had passed since Jon Snow, also known now as Aemond Targaryen, chose to live among the Dwarves of Khazad-dûnd, and he had learnt much from the children of Aulë, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby and sapphire.

After his decades spent in Durin's Halls, Jon was confident he was as great a smith as any man of Númenor; the Dwarves were harsh masters that did not suffer fools nor those too weak to learn their craft and Jon revealed in their teachings fashioning many beautiful things from metal and stone.

Loras and Robar had stayed by his side for some time before the love of Arnor called them home, and so was Jon alone in Khazad-Dûm, although sometimes Loras and Robar venture to the Dwarven kingdom and join their brother in tests of strength and arms.

At the beginning of his apprenticeship, he was joined by his lady loves and family, who were eager to gaze upon the halls of Durin and those who had not ventured there before marvelled at the vast Mansion of the Khazâd, especially the fabled forges of the dwarves. Shiera and Sansa had begged him to procure them some jewellery in Shiera's case, Jon gifted her a necklace wrought of silvered steel and set with half a hundred sapphires and twice as many emeralds, and for his dear Sansa a tiara of silver set with seven sapphires the size of hens eggs.

Jon had taken his loves and cousins to gaze upon the West Gate of the Kingdom. All were enraptured by its beauty of the Ithilden so much so that Shiera and Rhaella wept, Sansa and Arya could scarcely believe such beauty was wrought by mortal hands and asked Jon if he could perhaps forge a gate of such beauty alas he was averse to tell them the secret of its creation was only known to Celebrimbor and King Narvi who had perished in the Wars against Sauron.

Arya and Rhaenys, for their part, only coveted things from the armoury, but Jon was adamant Arya claim no weapons except by leave of Glorfindel.

That deeply irritated Arya, but there was little she could do save challenge Jon to a duel, and while the young wolf had become a splendid swordswoman, Jon was far more skilful trouncing her each time.

Those constant defeats and the desire to impress her love only motivated Arya to practice with Glorfindel until her shoulder and arm were bruised a dark purple from the sparring. She wanted to teach her cousin a lesson not to disparage her just for being a woman and that she was no meek little girl; sadly for Arya, her beloved cousin hadn't shirked from his training either.

The young Targaryen knew that the Dwarves had ever placed great value on skill at arms, particularly the wielding of hammers and axes, so when he wasn't at the forge, Jon sparred with the Everguard of King Durin he had no intention of being outmatched by his brothers in arms he couldn't bear their boasting if he had.

Alas, all good things must end, and soon his lady loves and family desired to return to Annúminas, so with bitter tears, they bayed Jon farewell though not before his loves shared a night of passion with him.

It was a beautiful memory he wouldn't soon forget, but alas, a Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.

Although it had been many years, Jon had kept abreast of the news in Arnor, and it seemed Arya had become a splendid warrior though he doubted she could best him.

At first, the young Targaryen was grieved though his loves had cautioned him that life in the mines was no life for them for many years. Jon thought to return to Arnor, but he knew in his heart that this would be a grave insult to King Durin and so busied himself with the lore of mining and smithing, hoping to comfort his aching heart.

Though it wasn't so grim on many occasions, he was visited by Glorfindel and Lord Elrond, who were rather amused that he had lived among the dwarves so long as they weren't known for their table manners nor their cleanliness.

"It is a matter of will and perseverance; the knowledge that the Dwarves are granting me is valuable enough for me to withstand their brutal lessons even if it is a tortuous hurdle," Jon had told them with some melancholy.

Jon, for his part, had fulfilled the promise to his loves and cousins before leaving; he visited them often in Annúminas, where he was always welcomed by them with love and affection many a time he had left them sated and happy it seems his lady loves were all too eager to welcome a dragon into their beds.

Finally, after some three decades in the forges, the dwarves began to instruct him in the fashioning of stoneworks and the construction of fortresses.

The study of architecture that Jon had learned from the Númenóreans was certainly beneficial since these the Dwarves hadn't considered him a naive boy though to his regret, Jon knew his skill would never equal the Children of Aule in the fashioning of stone this did not discourage the young dragon, and soon he was deemed as a fair mansion, and when a Dwarf deems a man adequate, many know he shall be legendary.

King Durin was sure that Jon would construct great Citadels and cities in his homeland; the young dragon merely needed to refine his craft, but now the time had come for him to reward Jon's effort and return to the forges of the moon.

For his part, the blessing of long life was undoubtedly a great help in the pursuit of knowledge; Jon had not aged at all in the last fifty years, no doubt, because his life span was akin to the early Númenóreans many in the Northern Kingdom whispered that Jon and his companions were in all things more like to the Firstborn than any other of the kindreds of Men.

Though not all was peaceful, the Goblins had grown far bolder, and many a time, Jon would accompany the Dwarves into the Dimrill Dale to cleanse the gate and lands beyond; after some years, Jon constructed several watchtowers on the shores of the Celebrant and borders of the Golden wood though these towers were not some splendid edifices of marble rather rough-hewn pillars of blackened stone these served the Dwarves well. Soon even the most wearied Longbeard had admitted to the skill in their construction.

King Durin had told him that he will never be equal to his teachers in the art of stonecraft, but this merely enflamed Jon's passion he wished to prove his old friend wrong, and so he studied with such vigour many among the Longbeards thought the young Targaryen must be kin to their race in some manner or fashion.

Though not all was well in the years since his resurrection, he had become far wilder; it seemed he was more akin to the ancient northern berserkers than any knight of Westernesse.

Jon knew that since he returned from the Rooms of Command, he was changed and not just by the grace of Erú, he was far mightier than any mortal man, and none among the Noldor could best him save Glorfindel, Elrond and noble Gil-Galad.

On one of the occasions, he was working in the forges, and ill fortune befell a young smith on the gangway above an elderly dwarf had dropped his axe. The deadly blade would have come crashing down on the boy had Jon not pushed him away alas the axe bite deeply into Jon's arms, and the queerest thing happened liquid light drizzled from the wound at his arm, spattering his shirt with bright spots of gold and forming small puddles in the stone by his feet. Nevertheless, his arm hardly hurt at all, even when he pulled out the glittering axe, and as soon as the blade was gone, the wound visibly began to heal, much to the astonishment of the dwarves.

Though it was in the battles against the goblins that his blessing where indeed revealed, King Durin led his throng into the valley from the East while Jon circled so that his forces could attack from the borders of Lórien in the south. Jon and Durin cut a bloody swathe through the horde and met in the middle of the dale, where they leaned on their weapons and shared a mug of stout ale and good cheer before renewing the slaughter. However, King Durin and Jon would have vengeance as so they led their companions after the fleeing foe, plunging into the inky depths of the Goblin warrens on and down they marched, deeper than the deepest of dwarves tunnels, their only radiance the flame of Ringil and Jon's blazing eyes. They slew many a Troll and dark creatures that arose to greet them, delving ever downward into the dark heart of the mountain where man was not meant to tread. Within those dank and foetid halls, the Goblin kings were cut down from their thrones and skewered upon Jon's lance like hogs. For three days, Jon and Durin fought a path back to the light, neither ceasing to even rest drenched in the blackened blood of their enemies.

Jon also gained a great vigour of the body; it seems as if the dawn of spring lay in his heart, and none could overcome him save the stoutest of the Dwarves warriors whose own strength was akin to the mountains they called home.

With his newfound vigour, he could entertain his lady loves each time he attended them in Annúminas without wearying, leaving them wholly sated and all the more smitten with their darling dragon who made them feel as if they had crossed into Valinor.

And it seemed Jon bore the blessed hands of a healer and saved many a dwarven and elvish life during his time in Khazad-Dûm, growing especially wise in the making of poultices and herbs during those many years he would on occasion ask Lord Elrond for instruction, and the wizened elf was all too happy to aid him in his pursuit of knowledge.

The Dwarves treated him with great reverence, and many among the King's council whispered that he was perhaps immortal; though Jon knew this was false, the will of Eru men shall abide in this world but a little while and then whither as all fair things must.

No, Jon was utterly certain that he was not immortal.

That was more worrying, Jon relished his new might, but he also felt his mind change slowly; his mind and spirit wavered between man and beast, his mood was ever dour, and his ferocity in battle rather queer.

However, none of that worried Jon; what worried him was that he did not want to be considered a wild wolf akin to his Uncle Brandon and mother, but Jon could do little save mastery of his savagery and place faith in the wisdom of the elves.

After all, he was not an animal.

The thought of that phrase reminded him of Lord Elrond and the Valley of Imladris, a refuge for the weary and the oppressed, and a treasury of good counsel and wise lore settled at the edge of a narrow gorge of the Bruinen River, but well hidden in the moorlands and foothills of the Misty Mountains.

During the War of the Elves and Sauron, and as Sauron was moving against Eriador, Elrond led an army of Elves of Lindon to the region. They arrived late but were joined by a detachment out of Eregion led by Celeborn. Despite this, Sauron's armies overwhelmed the Elves, and Elrond was unable to reach Eregion. Forced northward toward the headwaters of Bruinen, Elrond established a stronghold. This became a refuge for those seeking shelter from Sauron's onslaught in Eriador, and Elrond's and Celeborn's Elves were soon joined by many fleeing the Sack of Eregion. More came as Sauron ravaged Eriador on his march toward Lindon. By the year 1700 of this age, Sauron had overrun all of Eriador, and Imladris was besieged. The siege ended when Gil-galad's forces, strengthened by the armament sent by Tar-Minastir, routed Sauron's armies and drove him out of Eriador.

Since then, Lord Elrond has ruled there with his wife the Lady Celebrian, and for the past fifty years, his beloved Lawlen and Galadriel had dwelt there in peace and comfort as Galadriel had no wish to return to Edhellond as the memories of Celeborn were far too painful, and Celebrian wouldn't be parted from her mother.

The first time Jon and the others visited the Imladris Valley some six months after they went to dwell in Khazad-Dûm, it was beautiful; the air was warm. The sound of running and falling water was loud, and the evening was filled with a faint scent of trees and flowers as if summer still lingered in Elrond's gardens.

Jon's intention was to visit his beloved elves, but he had been amazed by the beauty of the realm that the elves had built there; Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian received them with kindness, as Jon and his cousins were kin to them however distantly though some elves eyed Jon with curiosity others with contempt not doubt hearing tales of his bestial rages. Still, none dared say anything, and they were welcomed as family.

Unfortunately, not everything was well; there was a moment upon his arrival when the Lady Celebrian gazed at him intensely, and then her eyes showed something akin to suspicion and mistrust; however, it was supplanted with warmth, and she embraced him as if he were her own son.

That worried Jon; he was sure that Lady Galadriel had not told her daughter anything concerning their romance, but Jon had already heard that Celebrian was as farsighted and wise as her mother, and they could never hide their intentions from her.

Her father's death was very recent, at least for the way elves measure time; if the Lady Celebrian found out that her mother and Jon desired each other, she might behave just as Fëanor did when his father took a second wife Jon prayed to the Valar she would accept their love.

Fortunately, that did not seem to be the case; Lord Elrond's wife treated him with the same kindness, gentleness and respect as always, which for Jon was a momentary respite until the day Celebrian discovered the truth.

However, for Jon to visit that place was to visit his beloved Lalwen and Galadriel although the Lady of Light kept far from him with a look of longing upon her face Irime however, held no such reservations and would not be parted from Jon for as long as he dwelled in the valley.

Alas, not all was fair and good when they visited the house of Elrond the majesty of this place fulled a great longing for blessed Arnor in the heart of his companions, and Jon could not begrudge them that, and it was here that his companions decided to return to Annúminas.

Despite this, Jon visited the Valley frequently in the coming years to admire the beauty of Noldorian woodcraft; the Elves had constructed this place in such a way that it appeared as if the houses had merely sprung from the ground resplendent with flowers and beautiful ponds.

His time in Imladris had lit a fire in his heart, and Jon was adamant he would build a place as fair as Rivendell one day, though he didn't come to merely admire Noldorian skill.

Firstly was the wise counsel of Elrond, who had tried to rid Jon of his savagery though the Lore of the Elves offered succinct aide, and it appeared he would remain as he was for the rest of his day though it was not all grim tidings as Jon took great pleasure striding through the forest under the light of the Full Moon.

And to see his beloved Lalwen and Lady Galadriel, to gaze upon them always filled his heart with joy as if the sun had cast away the winter of his heart and given way to a fair and beautiful spring.

His sweet Lalwen always had a radiant expression like the sun when he came to Rivendell, and Jon was more than delighted to be with his beloved elf, and soon the entire valley knew that the daughter of Finwë and Indis was the consort of a mortal man.

Many had congratulated him for his good fortune though he had heard some of their whispered conversations reminding him of the path he now trod though being with his lady loves did much to draw his mind elsewhere.

The Noldorian Princess, for her part, had greatly enjoyed spending time with her beloved dragon, just by themselves, venturing around the Valley and teaching him first-hand the traditions of her people, and in turn, Jon demonstrated in the smithies of Imladris what he had learned from Khazad-Dûm, for Írimë these were moments of great pride as her beloved dragon showed his mastery of the forge.

In Írimë's opinion, her Nin Mel had learned and matured much in his time with the Dwarves, becoming a powerful man in mind, spirit and body.

Oh, how Írimë loved to see her dragon work either building ships or minding the forge, all that labour in the forges of Khazad-Dûm had blessed Jon with a robust build, a blushing Írimë often watched him from afar the way he moved with the grace of a panther.

Oh, she a Princess of the Noldor fervently wishes to take a mortal as husband and lover she felt that desire consume her slowly but inexorably, Írimë knew that she and yet to share her beloved bed and she felt her resolve weaken soon she would ride the dragon.

She had already waited long enough.

Jon, for his part, despite loving time with his sweet Lalwen, had another person in his thoughts in addition to her when he visited Imladris the Lady Galadriel.

All the time that had passed since Jon went to live in Khazad-dûm had caused his relations with the two maidens to change considerably. However, he remembered when his beloved took him aside one to settle the matter between them once and for all Lalwen was forthright with him; she had accepted that her lover and her niece Artanis had feelings for each other though she was not happy in the least, He could be with Galadriel if he so desired, but they must be secretive lest they draw the ire of the Noldorian nobility.

A flushed and nervous Jon did not say anything for a while and just started to stutter, but Lawlen merely struck him in the chest, not wishing to repeat herself; it was rather embarrassing.

But Jon told him that there could be nothing between him and Galadriel in a formal way because she would remain married to Lord Celeborn eternally as ordained by laws of the Noldor, but to Jon's confusion, Lalwen expression was one of anguish.

"You must speak to Artanis about that Nin Mel; it is a harrowing and private matter for her; only Artanis has the right to discuss it." Irime had told him.

Jon nodded at Lalwen's words and fiercely kissed her much to the joy of his beloved though Lady Galadriel had no knowledge of what they had discussed as she still mourned Lord Celeborn and neither wanted to burden her, although Jon had already promised the Lady of Light that he would claim her as his own one day young Targaryen knew that day was not yet, his heart told him it was fast approaching.

The love that Jon felt for Lalwen and Galadriel was the queerest he felt among his loves he did not desire them more than the rest, if that were the case, Jon would have chosen to become half-elven but rather due to the kinship between them and the customs of elves regarding marriage.

And such is the love and longing that the young Targaryen felt for both descendants of Finwë that he had begun to shape sculptures of gold in their likeness though he had destroyed several already deeming them unworthy of such beauties.

The beauty of both elves was something mystical and unattainable for any of mortal blood. Jon loved them all fiercely though he rarely saw his beloved Lawlen, much less Galadriel, so he desired them all the more.

Still, he recalled his last visit to Imladris when he and Galadriel plighted their troth.

FLASHBACK

They were walking through the meadows, under the trees just as the moon was creeping over the oaks, Jon regaled with tales of his suffering at the hand of his Dwarven master, and this brought Galadriel some joy so much, so she even laughed heartily.

Hearing her laugh amid her grief was a great delight because the sound of her laughter was like the kiss of a summers breeze, and it filled him with great warmth; it made his heart soar to know he had brought her some small joy amid her grief.

However, Jon felt that the Lady was hiding something from him, something important even though he knew that she was pleased when he visited Rivendell, and during those fifty years, he had come to know her quite well.

Finarfin's daughter was a firm person loving and warm, free-spirited and adventurous as well as fair and humble, as well as eminently wise as even Lord Elrond who was enormously wise in his own right held her in the highest esteem, yet in Lady, Galadriel burned the flame eternal she was proud and warlike akin to a warrior goddess from some ancient saga.

In a rare moment of affection, Lady Galadriel had told him that she had been willful and rebellious in her youth, how she preferred wearing plate and mail and often carried a sword eschewing the frivolities of court and was such a nuisance her mother had told her she would send her father with worry.

The Lady of Light arched an eyebrow when reading Jon's thought, and he smiled, and so she laid a chaste kiss upon his, much to Jon's shock.

Galadriel made hints that she wanted to continue their stroll, and Jon followed her hoping to know more about her, at first she was relucent to tell him of her life in the blessed kingdom, and though Jon had heard the stories second hand, he felt that to hear it from Galadriel herself would be a high honour.

She was born and raised as the youngest daughter of Finarfin, the youngest son of Finwë, the High King of the Noldor and Eärwen "The Swan Maiden of Alqualondë" and though her life was one of peace and plenty. However, the words of Fëanor kindled in her heart the desire to see the lands East of Valinor and to claim a realm of her own. So she accompanied the great smith on his journey during the troubles that followed, even though she participated in the revolt of the Noldor, she fought against Fëanor in defence of her mother's kin in the Kinslaying of Alqualondë. However, the great friendship they felt for the children of Fingolfin prevented them from abandoning them since they wanted to follow their father Fingolfin and, according to the Lady herself, their Youthful pride prevented them from returning to Valinor as defeated, thereby ensuring that she too fell under the Curse of Mandos. Galadriel recounted a great deal of her life in those hours; soon, dusk gave way to night and soon, the valley was blanketed in glittering stars.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?" The Lady asked suddenly.

"Yes, My Lady though I haven't gazed much as the stars of Westeros, they are not as fair nor as bright as the gems above us," Jon said with a sigh.

"That is a pity, the starlight is a gift from Varda to all the Children of Ilúvatar to ward off the darkness it is a pity they cannot admire the majesty of the heavens as we do," Galadriel said, glancing again to Jon with a smile.

"Then Varda looked out from the height of Taniquetil and beheld the darkness of Middle-earth beneath the innumerable stars, faint and far. Then she began great labour, greatest of all the works of the Valar since their coming into Arda. First, she took the silver dews from the vats of Telperion, and therewith she made new stars and brighter against the coming of the Firstborn; wherefore she whose name out of the deeps of time and the labours of Eä was Tintallë, the Kindler, was called after by the Elves Elentári, Queen of the Stars. Carnil and Luinil, Nénar and Lumbar, Alcarinquë and Elemmírë she wrought in that time, and many other of the ancient stars she gathered together and set as signs in the heavens of Arda: Wilwarin, Telumendil, Soronúmë, and Anarríma; and Menelmacar with his shining belt, that forebodes the Last Battle that shall be at the end of days. And high in the north as a challenge to Melkor, she set the crown of seven mighty stars to swing, Valacirca, the Sickle of the Valar and sign of doom.

It is told that even as Varda ended her labours, and they were long when first Menelmacar strode up the sky, and the blue fire of Helluin flickered in the mists above the borders of the world, in that hour the Children of the Earth awoke, the Firstborn of Ilúvatar. By the starlit mere of Cuiviénen, Water of Awakening, they rose from the sleep of Ilúvatar; and while they dwelt yet silent by Cuiviénen, their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven. Therefore they have ever loved the starlight and have revered Varda Elentári above all the Valar." Jon thought, recalling his lessons with Cirdan.

"You speak truly, my Lady," said Jon enjoying the view.

"Jon…" Lady Galadriel said now, watching him intensely.

"Yes?" The young Targaryen asked curiously.

"I can feel the restlessness of your spirit, you come to Imladris to see my aunt Írimë and me, but you can for another reason I suspect why can you not speak of it with us? " The Lady asked in a reproachful tone as Jon got nervous.

"There is no point in lying; she will know," Jon thought, his heart disquiet; it was not helped by Galadriel's piercing gaze.

"What are you hoping to conceal, Jon?" Asked the Lady of Light, increasingly upset with her love of hiding things from her.

Jon just sighed.

"I ... I have not been the same since I returned from the Room's of Command," Jon said in a dark tone that distressed the beautiful elf, who quickly approached her love and took him gently by her cheek.

"Do you speak of your wolfish rage?" Galadriel asked worriedly.

Jon relented and began to tell Galadriel everything that had befallen him in Khazad-Dûm, how he had become akin to a slavering wolf eager to glut itself on the blood of his enemies of the rages that overtook him in battle and his tireless body.

The Lady of Light listened silently, and although her face remained impassive, he discerned the worry in her eyes.

When Jon spoke of the axe nearly severing his arm, Galadriel's countenance was one of worry and sadness.

"Like my beloved Lalwen, Galadriel cannot bear to see me in anguish", Jon thought nervously as he saw the anger in Galadriel's dazzling blue eyes, and it warmed his heart to know he was dear to her.

Though Jon was loathed to share the darkest of his tales, the slaughter of the goblins clans although the Goblins were filthy and hideous creatures, Jon's wroth was no dissimilar to their vices of torture and to think he could be as bestial and cruel as the Goblins filled him with fear and sadness.

That bestial side of his mind terrified and dismayed him; that part of his spirit that was now wild and dangerous Jon feared he would harm those closest to him, and soon his mind was consumed by thoughts of slaughter and bloodshed.

"I am not a beast ... I am not a beast ..." Jon said, dismayed, echoing that phrase several times, his eyes alight with fear.

Seeing her love suffer from such fear, Galadriel embraced him hoping to soothe his aching spirit.

"What consumes his soul now is not the work of the Valar not even they are so cruel as to inflict madness upon men no we were foolish trying to recall Jon before Eru deemed it right, oh what terrible affliction we have set upon my love," The Lady of the Light thought with guilt remembering the part she played in his resurrection.

Jon felt the warmth of his lady love akin to the first kiss of spring and revealed in it soon his mind was at ease and he lay there enraptured by the scent of lilacs and honeysuckle.

"Thank you, my lady," Jon said, calmer now, but at that moment, Galadriel looked at him with sadness.

"Why didn't you say any of this before?" Galadriel asked with concern knowing that the savagery that her love acquired from his wolf had not been appeased.

"Because it was not your burden to bear, my Lady, it was foolish, I know, but my loves have been beset by worry, and I had no wish to cause any of you more anguish, though I have been as I am since Isengard only now has it tried to consume my soul, and so I came here hoping the magics of Lord Elrond could soothe my heart.

"And Elrond has aided you in secret," Galadriel said, her voice biting as cold iron; she would have words with Elrond for keeping this from her.

Sensing Galadriel's anger at Elrond, Jon shook his head.

"Please, my Lady, do not be displeased with Lord Elrond; I swore him to secrecy though he thought I should tell you, but my fear and arrogance prevented silenced me so if any should deserve your ire, it is me, "said Jon expecting Galadriel's anger.

But to his surprise, the Princess of the Noldor only kissed him on the forehead and smiled slightly.

"Very well, Jon, I will not take my anger out on Elrond, but you will have to answer for your folly, my dear fool," Galadriel said with a smile and a warning look.

Jon merely nodded.

"Yes, we shall have no more secrets between us, my lady, this I swear," Jon said with a sad smile.

"What more changes have you noticed in yourself? I feel it in you each time you venture here; you are a little changed each time," Galadriel said, sadly caressing the face of her love, and Jon allowed himself to fall into her embrace once more.

"Yes, I don't just have that new wild and unbridled instinct ... My way of being, my character changes little by little, although I don't know if that's because of my wolf instincts or just my personality," Jon said with a slight laugh.

"What do you speak of?" The beautiful elf asked while Jon just sighed.

"Lord Elrond and King Durin seem to think I have less patience for foolishness, although this is mayhaps from my time among the Dwarves though I do prefer solitude akin to my wolf, "Said Jon remembering how his wolf prefers solitude even among his pack.

"What else?" Galadriel asked with some concern.

"Yes, the older Dwarves are grumbling as my jest as are sharp as a freshly wrought axe, and it seems I have insulted a great many of them," Jon said without giving value to that peculiar shift in his way of being while Galadriel arched an eyebrow and saw in Jon's memories as his lady loves had japed and jested with Jon concerning a particularly aged dwarf setting his bear alight.

"That shall not endear you to the Dwarves," thought the Lady of Light with some amusement.

"Though I have mastered my spirit in part thanks to Elrond's counsel and my teaching in the Grey Havens, I fear one day my savagery shall consume my heart, and I shall be little more than a beast clad in the flesh of a man, "Jon said with pitying hatred.

After perceiving Jon's heart was filled with self-hatred, Galadriel shed tears of regret knowing some blame rested with her.

"Jon, what ails you is no fault of your own but rather our foolishness," Galadriel said with tears in her eyes and fear in her voice as Jon looked at her with confusion.

"Lord Elrond told me of the ritual you intended for me, and I bear no ill hatred towards any of my lady", Jon said, gazing at the Lady of Light whose eyes were wet with tears.

Seeing her in such a state was too much for the young Westerosi and approaching her, he caressed her cheek, losing himself in those blue eyes that at that time shone like the stars of Queen Varda that were above them, now it was Lady Galadriel who allowed herself to be pampered by her love, closing her eyes to enjoy his caresses and after hesitating for a moment, Jon kissed her.

This was akin to their first kiss on the shores of Belfalas all those many years ago, where their hearts were promised to one another even if neither knew what Eru had planned for them a single kiss that had borne a love as great as Beren and Luthien's.

At first, Galadriel was startled by Jon's boldness, but the Lady of Light cared too little to stop it and returned his kiss with equal passion.

Soon their tongues were duelling in a furious passion as if trying to consume each other Jon showed great strength and laid Galadriel upon the soft grass, gazing into her eyes that sparkled with love and lust in equal measure, and the lady of light wrapped her arms around him so they would not be parted.

Unlike those previous kisses, this one was different, he had the overwhelming passion of his first kiss and the tenderness of the second, but he had something else love; Jon and Galadriel kissed with all the love of their heart and the passion they felt for each other when they were together before they were akin to animals consumed by desire now they wee lovers plighting their troth beneath the glittering heavens.

They paid mind to little else save for the happiness; the only thing that lived was them; they could perceive in that kiss all the love they shared, the warmth and softness of their lips, their aroma, the softness of their skin Galadriel was his queen, at that moment, the two were one, the only thing that existed in Arda was the two of them.

At that moment, they finally parted, gazing into each other's eyes as the Lady of Light played with Jon's dark curls while he merely smiled enraptured by her beauty.

.

"This is wonderful," Jon said without thinking, and Galadriel just laughed and kissed him on his lips again.

"We've waited a long time for this," Galadriel said, happy to finally openly acknowledge her love for Jon.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Jon said.

"Yes, I have fought against the truth of my heart for far too long, Jon. I thought our love sinful, but I cannot be denied any longer Celeborn death is a wound that shall take many centuries to heal, but he has freed me from our marriage so that I may not face all the ages of this world alone though I suspect he had no knowledge of the love we shared I shall stand by you Jon Snow from this day until you depart from Arda" Galadriel said with sadness in her voice, still playing with Jon's hair.

"My Lady", Jon began to say, but Galadriel silenced him with another kiss.

"Galadriel, Jon, address me by my name; at this point, it is ridiculous that you call me in such a formal way, my wild wolf," Galadriel said, her face alight with joy.

"A difficult road awaits us, Jon, although now we decide to fight for our love, I fear that this will not be readily endured among my people you desire my aunt as she desires you, and there will be many a Noble Elf who would challenge you for our hand," Galadriel said before resting her head on Jon's chest.

"I know, but for both of us, I would battle the great enemy Lalwen, and you belong to my side", Jon growled fiercely. No one would part him from Lalwen and Galadriel, not so long as there was strength left in his body.

Knowing that her beloved was willing to fight for her and her aunt unto the ending of the world filled her with fierce love and heat to pool in her most sacred place; her wolf was wild as a storm but kind as spring, and she would know he loved her just as she loved him.

"Oh, I'm again acting like a maiden in love waiting for my gallant knight," Galadriel thought with amusement as she realised the effect Jon had on her.

Only he could have reduced the Lady of Light, the daughter of Finarfin, the mightiest and fairest of all the Elves, to behave again as a young maiden in love although she had never acted that way even when he lived in Aman.

Since the noble elf in those distant times did not care much for romance, she preferred knowledge and athletic contests and was so exceptional in them that it filled her with pride to know that many considered her fair and mighty beyond her years and while she loved Celeborn he was not skilled in the arts of romance.

But with Jon, she had no need to hide her thoughts or feelings; it was a wondrous thing to share them with her wild wolf.

"It doesn't matter the trials we face; our destinies are intertwined though I do hope my vision shall come true soon". Galadriel thought as her face turned a pleasant shade of scarlet.

And so both now as lovers fell asleep that night under the stars.

END OF FLASHBACK

After peacefully remembering his last visit to Imladris and his last meeting with his loved ones Lalwen and Galadriel, Jon's mind was drawn back to his lesson with Rafnuff the old dwarf was instructing him in the properties of various stone though it was apparent to all Jon had little interest in the dwarves lectures.

Jon liked spending time with Rafnuff since the dwarf had been his first master in Khaza-dum, though as the years passed, he was learning far less than he should; he had spent half a century among the Longbeards, and his time was coming to an end.

The Dwarves believed with amusement that when Jon accepted the invitation of King Durin that he would at most last a year, and yet the young Westerosi has been with them for half a century.

Knowing that he was the first man to accomplish such a feat filled Jon with great pride.

With that in mind, Jon took out his pipe, the same one his brothers in arms, gave him so many years ago, and leaning comfortably against one of the walls, began to smoke.

Jon had discovered his taste for smoking thanks to the Dwarves since; apparently, it was his preferred leisure activity; at first, Jon did not know whether to smoke or not since he remembered the contempt that his loved ones had for that habit; however, the curiosity of the young Targaryen was greater than the fear of angering them, and in the end, he decided to try his pipe.

It turns out that Loras and Robar were right about inhaling the smoke from that herb; it was rather enjoyable, so it became a frequent habit for Jon to accompany the dwarves when they wished for a smoke.

So Jon smoked frequently; although the young Targaryen had neither contracted breathing problems nor had his teeth become yellow, Jon thought little of it and simply assumed it was the grace of the Valar.

Something good had to come out of them because of all the fear and bitterness they have caused him in recent years.

At that moment, Jon's heard the heavy footfalls of an approaching dwarf, although Jon was more concerned about finishing his pipe, so he paid it little mind.

"Lord Aemond ..." Jon turned his gaze towards the voice and realised that it was a young Dwarf calling him.

"Yes..?" Jon said without looking at him as he continued smoking.

"King Durin wishes your presence a message arrived from King Elendil the King says it was urgent," Said the young dwarf, somewhat nervous as he stood before Jon of the House of Finwe.

Sighing with impatience, Jon put out his pipe because he did not like to be interrupted by anyone in his few moments of leisure, but loyalty and respect for his King remain absolute, the honour he learned from his uncle Ned Stark was something he still believed in though he was far more pragmatic than his uncle.

Jon sighed.

"Lead me to the King, boy .." Jon said, and the young dwarf merely nodded.

Jon and the young dwarf walked the corridors of Khazad-Dûm as well as up and down the galleries in the dark until they finally reached the great elevator and entered the Great Hall of King Durin, and there sat Lord Durin on his throne heated debating with his advisors in Khuzdul.

The Lord of Khazad-Dûm had not changed much over the years due to the long life of the Dwarves; however, age was beginning to catch up with him as his face already had more wrinkles on his face and his beard was more silvered, although the mighty Dwarf King still retained his strength and vigour.

"You arrived ... How were your lessons?" The King asked, and Jon smile.

"As always, fascinating and entertaining, I never tire of debating with Raffnuff about what kind of rock would be best to start building the foundations of a tower," Jon said with a smile, recalling the debate he had with his mentor, the old dwarf was comparably easy to jape with.

"Alas, I did not call you here to speak of your lessons; I bear word from Arnor it seems Elendil has a task in mind for you," The King said seriously.

"A task?" Jon asked curiously.

"Yes, it seems Elendil wishes for you to venture to Dorwinion and secure the allegiance of the Vinter Lords," King Durin said with a smile, and Jon shared it with his now usual wolfish grin.

Dorwinion, its people were descendants of the Edain and had close ties to the men of Beleriand and Eriador, as well as fast friends with the Avari elves who dwelt there. Although it can't be said with certainty, who inhabited that land. What is known is that since the First Age, many Men wandered or settled the empty lands between the Iron Hills, the Greenwood and the Inland Sea. Although that was rather intriguing, it was not what made these fertile lands of the south so famous.

Dorwinion was a lush and fertile land located on the north-western shores of the Sea of Rhûn, surrounded by the River Running. The men of Dorwinion were known for making a heady wine, which was strong enough to let even Elves get drunk and fall asleep, and their fortunes came from the trading of this wine, particularly with the realms of King Oropher and the Dwarves of the Iron hills.

Jon didn't know why his King was sending him there, but he planned to enjoy it.

"Remove that ridiculous smile from your face, boy; there are grim tidings as well," King Durin said, his face hard as stone.

"What has happened?" Jon asked, and King Durin suddenly looked every one of his two-hundred and ten years.

"Elendil received word from his sons. Mordor is stirring again," Durin said, shaking his head with regret and weariness as Jon clenched his fists in a groan.

Even though fifty years have passed, Jon still remembered the Battle of Isengard, where Lord Celeborn and himself died along with hundreds of brave men all for of the wickedness of Sauron, who aspired to slay him and seize the Palantiri of Orthanc.

Since Jon has in his heart a strong desire to take revenge on the Lord of Mordor for all the pain and misery that he brought to his beloved Galadriel and himself as he still felt guilt for the death of Celeborn.

Jon desired nothing so much as to shatter Sauron's skull with Ghal-Maraz, but he knew that this was unmanageable and that even if he succeeded, the fallen Maia would eventually return as a child born from Ilúvatar's mind cannot be murdered.

That bothered him greatly like his master Morgoth and like all plagues, there was no doubt that Sauron was difficult to exterminate.

"Have there been attacks against the Free Peoples?" Jon asked with barely contained anger.

"No, however, we shall not let the Lord of Mordor press his advantage. Gondor is girding itself for war as our my peoples," Said the old King arching an eyebrow, and Jon understood him.

"That is my mission .. King Elendil wants me to make sure that the inhabitants of Dorwinion don't ally themselves with Sauron?" Jon said, and King Durin nodded.

"The people of Dorwinion are loyal friends to the Men of Arnor, and Elendil wishes to have those oaths renewed," Durin said, returning to his throne.

"King Elendil must not be assured of the loyalty of those men if he sends me there," Jon thought sarcastically.

"If that is the will of my King, I shall see it done," Jon said with a sigh.

"And if you can bring back the copious amount of wine, all the better," Said the King laughing.

"It will be a pleasure ... I suppose I should prepare for the trip ..." Jon said, excited to return to Annúminas when he finished his mission.

"Yes, before you depart, I would request a boon from you," King Durin said with a strange smile on his face.

"What boon?" Jon asked, arching an eyebrow; he had already known King Durin long enough to know that the Dwarf King loved a good jape or jest, and Jon had fallen for several of them during his stay.

"It is of little importance, but I ask that you go to Rivendell and deliver a gift," The King said with that wicked smile.

"What gift?" Jon asked suspiciously.

"Oh, it is a trifling matter merely something Ladies Írimë and Galadriel requested of me," Said the King with amusement as he saw Jon's face light up at the notion of seeing his beloved elves.

"Very well, and I may speak with Lord Elrond concerning these lands," Jon said with a shrug.

"Yes, I'm certain Elrond shall provide wise counsel", The King murmured, knowing full well the reason why Jon would venture to Imladris.

"Very well it has been decided though I have called you here for another reason, I shall grant you a gift as a token of friendship between our people's none save your distant kin Celebrimbor has lived among my people for such a count of years," King Durin said, gesturing to one of his advisers who nodded.

"King Durin, I need no gift for my time here is far more than any man deserved," Jon said with pride.

"Bah, nonsense, your love for my people is apparent to all; never in my entire life have I seen a man so young being as stubborn as a Dwarf and your efforts to learn the skills of my kin is commendable and while your companions left these halls you remained," Durin said with a withered smile.

Jon turned his gaze to where the King's advisor had gone, and he had now returned with something of incredible beauty, the most famous work of the Mines of Khazad-Dûm, something so valuable that even a King would gladly give half of his kingdom for his own.

A shirt of mithril mail.

That chainmail was forged by the hand of King Durin himself; Jon was sure of that because it was very similar to the one he had seen so many years ago when he first set foot in the lofty mansion.

This mail was far more splendid than the one in the golden galleries that shirt of mail had been made for a dwarvish princeling while this was fashioned for a man. It was close-woven of many rings, as supple, almost as linen, cold as ice, and harder than steel. It shone like moonlit silver and was studded with white gems and upon the face was two prancing wolves.

Jon was speechless merely he gazing at his gift and marvelling at its beauty Mithril was indeed a gift of the earth.

"It's far more than I deserve," Jon said, shedding a tear at such a wonderful gift.

"Bah, You are more worthy to wear the armour of elf princes many that have looked more comely in it consider it shall be a sign of the friendship between men and dwarves," King Durin said with a kind smile.

"I would not call this protection useless, my friend; I may heal quickly though my body still aches; this shall aid me in the wars to come," Jon said with a smile and an expression of gratitude.

"Glad to hear it, we chose the direwolf because we don't feel content carving the image of a dragon into such a valuable work," the King muttered.

"The dwarvish hatred for dragons shall never fade, it seems," Jon thought with amusement.

However, Jon stopped agonising about the hatred of the dwarves towards the dragons and noticed the dwarves brought out two more shirts of mail.

One had three golden roses on a field of green his brothers' personal sigil, while the second had bronze-coloured Runes studded with what looked like black iron the sigil of House Royce; it was apparent that King Durin had listened keenly when they spoke of their homeland.

"My brothers in arms shall be pleased," Jon thought with a smile, though his heart nearly burst when the counsellors brought forth the Mithril axe that had so enamoured his beloved sister when they had first entered these halls so long ago.

"My Lord, you honour me greatly," Jon said in shock.

"HAHAHAHA indeed though your friends are rather soft men, they had stood by you for lo these many years even before you landed on these shores such loyalty should be rewarded, please tell them that the doors of my domain will also be open for them if they wish to return," said King Durin.

"And the axe of Mithril?" Jon asked, intrigued.

"Oh well, that sister of yours seem rathered enamoured of it, but I'm afraid you shall have to work in the forge for half a year to earn this Axe for your dear sister," Said the King with satisfaction.

"Rhaenys shall be overjoyed to claim another axe though perhaps I could gift it to Arya should she desire it," Jon thought, resigned to toiling in the forges so that his beloved sister might be happy.

In the end, Jon took his gifts along with those of his friends and his half-sister before bowing to the Lord of Khazad-Dûm and withdrew to his rooms when Jon had left Durin renewed his counsel.

"That young man truly is exceptional majesty," said one of the Councilors.

"Yes, I really did not expect that a young man of the race of men could learn so much from our people," Said another Counselor.

"Indeed," said King Durin with a mixture of surprise and pride to see the excellent miner, blacksmith, craftsman, goldsmith and architect that Jon had become by living for a time in his domain.

"Jon once told you that you could not match a teacher of these halls, but perhaps I spoke too harshly you shall become a remarkable smith my friend mayhaps greater than Celebrimbor," Thought the old King feeling great pride for his friend.

For the next two days, Jon prepared for the journey to Imladris, eager to see his beloved Lawlen and Galadriel again.

Most of them were pleased that Jon was gone for a while, oh, they have great appreciation and respect for the mighty warrior, but they grew weary of his sharp tongue and sharper wit.

As for Jon received from King Durin in addition to the letter from Elendil that arrived thanks to a bird, he received a royal seal from Arnor to prove his identity as an emissary of the King of the Dunedain, it was a beautiful thing a disc carved in gold and silver with the emblem of the House of Elendil a white tree in blossom beneath seven stars.

And the mysterious commission of King Durin, two small boxes, one of gold and the other of silver sealed with the emblem of the House of Durin, the gold one was for Lalwen while the silver one was for Galadriel, despite his interest, Jon didn't dare look in the parcels lest he arouses the ire of his maidens.

When two days passed on the morning of the third, Jon had all the things necessary for the journey, only one thing remained: the means of travel.

When Jon arrived in Khazad-Dûm half a century ago, it was not only with his companions, lovers and the rest of his family but Ghost, Lady, who now led a pack of noble wolves which roamed the lands slaying any dark creatures they found.

In addition, Lord Manwë's gryphon was still following him although the haughty animal treated him better, he was not pleased with Jon's decision to dwell in Khazad-dûm a creature of the skies had no business in such a dark place, so he stayed outside to his chagrin as apparently over the years the gryphon and Ghost had become akin to rivals.

However, those two were not Jon's only companions; he was a Targaryen as well as a Stark and just as his ancestors of the Free Hold had tamed the dragons, so had he.

Erú Ilúvatar had given Jon and his family that had perished before their time each was a legend in their day and age, and it seemed these mighty beasts were pleased to be recalled from the dead.

Jon's dragon was the greatest of all the dragons Eru had summoned from the rooms of command; her scales were bronze but glittered with hues of greenish-blue, and her eyes were a dazzling shade of green Jon knew this dragon from his studies of Septon Barth he rode Vhagar, the dragon of his forebear.

Vhagar was the dragon of Queen Viseyna and the mightiest she-dragon to ever live; during her long life, she was ridden by Prince Baelon Targaryen, Lady Laena Velaryon and Prince Aemond One-Eye, his namesake, and it made him unusually proud to ride the dragon of his ancestors. Vhagar was large enough that one could ride a horse down her gullet. It is said that Vhagar's breath was so hot that it could melt a knight's armour and cook him inside.

By the time of the Dance of the Dragons, Vhagar was the hardened survivor of a hundred battles, had grown almost as large as Balerion, and was the oldest and largest of the dragons in Westeros. Her roar was so mighty that it could shake the very foundations of Storm's End. No living dragon could match her for size or ferocity.

Thinking about his ancestors riding dragons, Jon thought that the relationship with her was rather complex.

Many had told Jon the beast was the first to emerge from the pyre and had chosen Jon as her rider; this dragon had not parted from him since he had dwelt in Khazad-dûm , she used to fly over the mountains looking for a way to enter the mines, but she soon contented herself with flying over the Eyries and peaks of the Mountains.

These dragons could not converse with men like the Beast of the Great Enemy, but they undoubtedly possess a keen intelligence able to understand the tongues of men and elves though it had rather queer results he had taken her to Imladris and his beloved Lawlen made some mocking jest and was met by a green ball of flame that nearly ignited her dress and the gardens.

With that, Jon understood that Vhagar did not like to be mocked; when he shared this with Lord Elrond, the noble half-elf was astonished since until then everyone deemed they were simple animals, and with curiosity, he tried to approach the dragon, but he responded by launching another small ball fire. Jon had to stroke her neck to soothe Vhagar anger. However, in the end, they hadn't a clue if the dragons had learned the tongues of men by watching them or Eru had blessed them with the knowledge.

However, as Vhagar grew, she had grown fierce and wrathful; the Dwarves recounted to Jon that dragon was hunting among the peaks reducing many a wild stag and goat to ash she had even flow far south to Harad and brought several Olpihuant calves to devour; Jon didn't think it wise to let the young dragon live in the wilds for so long and hoping to quiet the dwarves fear Jon hoped to confront his dragon.

That was a mistake.

Apparently, Jon's dragon had grown prideful as a Lannister knight and no longer allowed Jon to get close and even rent his armour with her claws though Jon would not be dissuaded, and while Vhagar was a mighty beast, he managed to subdue her with his mind and copious amount of mutton.

It seems that now the dragon understood who was in command. Although the speed with which the dragon grew could change in the future, Jon did not wish to hurt his dragon; she had become as dear to him as Ghost and the gryphon of Lord Manwë.

Sighing and coming out of his memories, as well as seeing Vhagar devour that the small Oliphaunt, Jon smiled slightly when he saw him calm and sighed, approaching his tap while his wolf and his dragon watched him with curiosity.

"Sorry, I must make haste for Imladris, Vhagar stay here and don't cause trouble, and as for you, Ghost, watch her", Jon said, stroking his direwolf's head while Vhagar contented herself with devouring her prey.

But to felt her jealously and being passed over for a creature she deemed lesser than herself.

"Don't be like that; you know I can't take you to Imladris; the elves will be terrified", Jon said apologetically, but Vhagar just blew smoke and soot in Jon's direction showing that she was upset that she could not fly with her rider.

As for Lord Manwë's gryphon, he only watched the dragon with presumption and mockery, puffing up with pride to provoke him. Jon sighed and decided to leave at once to prevent a fight between them.

"Let's go now ..." Jon said, tying his things to the gryphon and mounting the beast, and with a great gust of wind, he ascended into the clear blue sky.

"I hope everything goes well; I wonder what those parcels for Lalwen and Galadriel contain? Perhaps I should have had a smoke and some wine before departing; oh well, can't be helped," Jon thought with curiosity and then annoyance.

The journey to Imladris lasted at most a day and a half thanks to his gryphon that seemed to want to quickly reach Lord Elrond's Vale.

Though Jon knew the reason for such haste and it amused and vexed him.

"It seems that after being admired wherever he goes by the elves of Middle-earth, this gryphon developed an even more incredible princely arrogance than he had when I first met him as he expects to be treated with reverence; wherever he goes." Jon thought, irritated with his partner.

But then he saw it as beautiful as the first time he gazed upon it all those many years ago.

The Valley of Imladris, what men called Rivendell.

It was a beautiful Valley; the most ancient elves compare it to Tumlain, where Lord Elrond's great-grandfather Turgon established the City of Gondolin; Imladris was beautiful to behold, for it was cared for by the most renowned artisans among the Noldor.

In Imladris, there was a large hall with a dais and several tables for feasting. Another hall, the Hall of Fire, had a fire in it year-round with carven pillars on either side of the hearth; it was used for singing and storytelling on high days but stood empty otherwise, and people would come there alone to think and ponder his beloved Galadriel, often visited the room. Finally, the eastern side of the house had a porch where many would take counsel beside the roaring waterfalls.

Despite the incredible solidity of the fortress, Imladris was guarded against attack mainly by the magic of the Bruinen River, but Lord Elrond once told him that this was only used when Imladris was under siege as mustering such magics was tiring.

Despite being a great fortress, Elrond himself said that Rivendell was a place of peace and learning, not a stronghold of battle. So his troops, although numerous, were more limited than those of other elven lords.

Jon and his gryphon descended until they reached the gates, guarded by half a dozen spearmen clad in fine golden ramnient with high helms and stout spears of ash and oak.

Despite seeing the majestic animal many times, the elves still treated him with great reverence, and the gryphon enjoyed it much to Jon's displeasure.

Dismounting the animal, Jon went to meet the guards, who were shocked to see him. He usually sends a letter weeks before visiting Lalwen and Galadriel, but this time he did not send any due to the suddenness of his visit.

"Greetings," Jon said respectfully.

"Greetings, Jon Herenlounga. Lord Elrond did not notify us of your visit", One of the guards replied, looking spellbound at the gryphon.

"Yes, I apologize, but I have come here on the request of King Durin, so I ask you summon Lord Elrond so that I may speak with him," Jon said while the guards hastily went to find their Lord.

After a few minutes, Jon got bored and took out his pipe, starting to smoke to the annoyance of the elves who had to smell the aroma of pipe-weed; the young Targaryen continued to enjoy his pipe until he felt a group of known presences approach.

Glancing at the entrance to the fortress, Lord Elrond stood in front with his wife on his right and following them were Jon's beloveds, Lalwen and Galadriel, whose smiles shone like the sun; the quartet of Elves looked at Jon in surprise though Galadriel knew of his coming as she could sense him.

Írimë wore an exquisite emerald green dress with diamonds sewn into the bodice, and her hair was tied into an elegant braid that fell to her chest.

Galadriel, for her part, wore one of her white dresses and a tiara of silver.

However, that was despoiled when they saw Jon smoke quietly without caring for the world still in their presence, while Elrond and Celebrian looked at the young man reproachfully for acquiring that nasty Numenorean habit, Írimë and Galadriel were furious and disappointed in Jon for keeping the pipe that his brothers in arms had given him.

At that moment, Írimë regretted not having thrown it into the Anduin when she could. Though Jon seemed to care little and merely emptied the end of ashes and addressed the gathered elves.

"Greetings Lord Elrond, Lady Celebrian, Lalwen, Galadriel," Jon said, bowing and then looking at his loved ones and seeing the expression of anger on their fair faces while Jon groaned in irritation as he presumed their ire.

"Greetings Aemond Targaryen; your visit is unexpected," Elrond said smiling, feeling that Jon will be reprimanded for his new habit.

"Yes, King Elendil has asked me to journey to Dorwinion, but King Durin requested me to bring a parcel to Lalwen and Lady Galadriel, so ere satisfying my King's order, I have come here bearing his gifts," Jon said without giving importance to the matter, but the elves seemed wholly jolted.

"Yes, Should Elendil discover this, he will have you flogged," Galadriel said softly, staring her love in the eyes.

"Yes, only if he finds out I do not plan to tell him anything, my Lady", Jon said in a dry tone and a wolfish smile with a shrug.

... How shameless ... The noble elves thought.

"I see you have acquired a new habit, Nin Mel", Írimë said in a dangerous tone, and Jon only looked at her cautiously when the beautiful elf started to approach him.

"Yes, well, I was merely curious", Jon began to say, but his beloved silenced him.

"I will have none of your pleadings give me the pipe", Írimë ordered, and a reluctant Jon placed it in her hands; she then snapped it and threw it into the Bruinen below.

Jon just rolled his eyes up and tried to get closer to kiss his beloved, but she turned away from him.

"We better wait for that horrible aroma to leave your breath Nin Mel," Lalwen said with a haughty smile, much to Jon's annoyance.

Jon just sighed wearily; all the women he fell in love with were domineering and proud; his beloved Lalwen, along with Shiera and Rhaenys, were the wickedest.

"How you wound me, Nin Mel," Jon said with a false sadness while she merely smiled and laid a chaste kiss upon his cheek and then held out her arm so that he may escort her to Elrond's study.

As they walked towards the study, Elrond and Celebrian chuckled, utterly amused by the haughtiness of Irime while Galadriel began to search Jon's mind discovering something curious.

"How many of those pipes do you bring with you, my love?" Galadriel asked, her tone held some amusement.

" Six, and that wasn't the one gifted to me by Loras. I had thought you both would act rashly", Jon replied with satisfaction.

"What hinders me from telling my beloved aunt that you bring more objects of that horrible habit with you, or maybe I should break them myself, my love?" Galadriel asked haughtily.

"Nothing, but if you do it, you will make me very sad although, if you keep silent about what you discovered, you will be rewarded, my Lady," Jon said in a tender tone as if he was seducing the Lady of Light to take her to bed.

At that moment, Jon could perceive how Galadriel's dignity had faltered for a moment, and he was certain she was blushing.

"How do you plan to make up for my silence, Aemond Targaryen? " Galadriel asked in her mind, but Jon could hear faint traces of emotion in her voice, although that she called him by his real name suggested that the noble elf was resolved.

"I shall be your reward, my lady", Jon said without the slightest compunction, smiling with satisfaction.

For a few moments, Jon's mind was silent, and he believed that Galadriel had severed the connection between them, and he was worried he may have offended her.

A concerned Jon took a swift glance at Galadriel, and to his surprise, he could see the Lady of Belfalas deeply flushed.

"Explain, Aemond," Galadriel asked again, surprising Jon.

"Well, my Lady, n exchange for not telling Lalwen about the other pipes, I pledge to spend a whole day with you, from dawn until the moon rises in the sky and the stars illuminate the Valley We will go for a walk, study in the library or even practice with weapons whatever you desire, just order and I will obey you that is my proposal," Jon said, sure of his Lady's answer.

There was no response from Lady Galadriel for a few moments, but Jon was sure that she would not miss the opportunity to bond with him after spending so much time apart.

"There is no doubt that I have wolf blood," Jon thought in amusement.

"Your offer is tempting, beloved. Will, we truly be together all day, and you shall do anything I desire?" Her voice fraught with emotion

"You have my word, my Lady," Jon said with a smile, knowing that Lady Galadriel longed to spend as much time with him as possible.

"In that case, I think we have an accord; I think we shall spend tomorrow together," Galadriel thought with barely contained emotion and happiness.

Hearing it, Jon felt terrible for ruining her idyllic happiness.

"I am afraid, my Lady, that this offer is for my next visit because Lalwen had already requested that I spend the day with her", Jon muttered in fear.

At that moment, Jon felt a sharp ache in his head, as if his mind was mastered by magics far older than himself. He turned to gaze at Galadriel and saw her eyes were akin to flames wrothful and cruel.

"I'm sorry," Jon said, but Galadriel merely assaulted his mind, and he knew she was furious.

"I give you my word we shall spend a day together, my beloved it was not my intention to deceive you," Jon said, hoping that Galadriel would not tell him it will cause more pain.

"I do hope you keep your word, My dear Aemond", Said the Lady of Light in a melodious voice that was also dangerously soft, and yet Jon could perceive the unspoken threat in her words.

That made the hairs on the back of the young Targaryen's neck stand on end.

After chewing on several mint leaves at the urging of Lawlen, Elrond led them along several passages and down many steps and out into a high garden above the steep bank of the river the light of the clear autumn morning was now glowing in the valley. The noise of bubbling waters came up from the foaming riverbed. Birds were singing, and a wholesome peace lay on the land; before them was a marble plinth surrounded by fourteen chairs of white stone; it was indeed a lovely place.

But even then, Jon was still holding the arm of his beloved Lalwen, marvelling at her sweet scent and her hair shining like glittering gold Seeing her so happy and content, it was as if her beauty was magnified a thousandfold. His wild blood told him to claim her, and he was sorely tempted he had long expected to take Finwë's daughter as his lover and companion though he vowed not to do so until she desired it and Jon knew that time was near at hand though Jon indeed felt the jealously of Galadriel as well for she yearned to do away with the secret of their love and enjoy each others company.

"Now, Jon Snow, tell us what boon you come to perform on behalf of King Durin?" Elrond questioned

Hearing Lord Elrond's request, Jon only took out of his clothes two small wooden boxes; the outline could be seen of an anvil, and a hammer surmounted by a crown with seven stars could be seen on the lid. Jon noticed that Lalwen looked at them expectantly.

"I no inkling Lord Elrond. I didn't think to peer into the boxes; I only know that they are for Lalwen and Lady Galadriel."

"Oh, I do hope this is what I think it is!" Írimë asked, overjoyed that her request had been finished so quickly.

Jon noticed Lalwen's happiness and raised an eyebrow; before departing Khazad-Dûm, King Durin had given him those boxes revealing that they were the order of the Elven Ladies; Jon had been very curious about it and asked the old King that was what they had in the boxes to which the King only replied: "a few trinkets nothing more."

Jon just snorted when he heard that, to begin with, Khazad-Dûm does not make "trinkets", and if any man or dwarf had ever spoken such, he would be dismissed from Khazad-Dûm forever, the Dwarves ever critical of their work and those that weren't deemed perfect is what they traded.

But what made Jon suspect that there was something strange about this task and feared that King Durin was playing a cruel joke, despite his curiosity, he dared not open them; if they were indeed a commission from Lalwen and Galadriel, Jon did not have the right to trespass their privacy.

He decided to wait until he got to Imladris to see what the contents of the boxes were. At that moment, he put them on the table, and Lalwen quickly took them and presented the other to her niece; both elves looked inside the boxes and smiled warmly, which only fueled Jon's curiosity.

"We thank you very much, Jon, for coming here to fulfil this request from King Durin to deliver these to us despite far more pressing matters; thank you," Galadriel said with a slight bow.

At that moment, Jon's curiosity was disappointed; clearly, the Ladies did not plan to show what was inside the boxes, but whatever it is, they both look content, and for him, that was enough, just to see both Princesses of the Noldor smile the way they did when they saw the contents of the boxes that alone was worth all the gold beneath the earth.

"Well, now comes my second question how long shall you stay here?" Lord Elrond asked with a smile.

That was a good question; as much as Jon desired to savour his time with Lalwen and Galadriel, he couldn't stay long this time; by rights, he shouldn't be here, but his love for them drove his desire.

"Two days if I delay longer, I fear we may be too late as it seems the evil of Mordor is stirring again," Jon said sternly, and instantly, the room darkened, and Lord Elrond's gaze hardened.

"Yes, Isildur and Anárion have sent scouts into the lands north, and all say that smoke rises from the Mountain it has been fifty years since Sauron had been abroad, but this time, Arnor and Gondor will stand ready they do not wish to be caught unaware as with Isengard," Said Lord Elrond, gazing in the direction of Galadriel, who adopted a taciturn and gloomy countenance with her daughter embraced her.

Seeing his loved ones with that melancholic expression, Jon clenched his fists, remembering Sauron and the suffering he had caused, and Jon accidentally let out a growl that startled Lalwen and Celebrian.

"I'm sorry... I .. let go," Jon said, feeling bad that he had not controlled his anger; he did not want any of his loves to see him as a beast.

"Oh, Nin Mel", Írimë said, resuming her place at Jon side and began caressing his face with all the care and love she possessed when he felt the warmth and softness of the skin of his beloved elf Jon spirit was finally calmed.

"Thank you, Lalwen," Jon said, kissing Lalwen gently on her lips to her delight but instantly, the joy on her face disappeared to give way to sadness.

"Oh, my Nin Mel what they told me is true you fight as a beast now oh damnation and spite is it our fault," Írimë said, shedding tears of sorrow at the thought that Jon must suffer again a new torment and she did not know how to help him.

Írimë only threw herself at Jon's chest, shedding silent tears as he stroked her head; the beautiful elf had learned long ago that Jon had acquired beastly savagery after his return from the Rooms of Command after all she had witnessed this savagery when he arose from his pyre.

The fair elf learned that King Durin had thrown his large Warhammer at Jon, and Jon had shattered the haft with little strength.

In addition, Jon seemed to heal very quickly from all his injuries, which filled her with great joy as she believed that Iluvatar was protecting her love from any harm; however, she soon discovered that she was wrong; these gifts came with a terrible cost.

The savagery that Jon manifested after resurrecting did not pass but instead festered inside him, appearing in the heat of battle where he displayed strength, swiftness and vigour uncommon even among the most aged of the Noldor.

That terrified her, that was not Jon, what was wrong with him?, that was not how Glorfindel instructed him to fight his grace supplanted by bestial cunning nobility replaced by savagery.

And so Írimë was worried that the savagery and brutality that now afflicts Jon was a punishment, the punishment of the Valar for having tried to go against the natural order and retrieve Jon from the "Rooms of Command", and this was the result.

Because of her pride, she and her loved ones had already suffered the ravages of the Valar during the First Age Írimë could not bear to know that her beloved dragon now suffered from her moment of grief.

But it seemed that fate had other plans.

It seems that the time a part of Jon was inside his wolf and the experience of death and resurrection had made him that much more powerful but at a terrible price.

Despite her concern, she was proud of all he had accomplished and his renown in the Kingdom of Khazad-Dûm.

But she had no wish for Jon to suffer for her folly nor the folly of Shiera and Ashara, who had aided her.

The beautiful elf princess kissed the forehead of her beloved and leaned against his chest to Jon's surprise that he did not expect such a show of affection from Lalwen in front of Lord Elrond.

"Lalwen…" Jon said, surprised.

"Ssshh ... Nin Mel, let me try to heal your heart with my love," Írimë said sweetly.

Jon didn't say anything and touched his forehead to hers, marvelling at her sweet aroma.

"It seems you have found a way to control your rages," Elrond said with a smile.

"Yes though I may behave more like an animal, I haven't misremembered the meaning of loving, and it quiets the beast in my heart," Jon said with a sad smile kissing the head of his beloved Lalwen, bringing a smile to the beautiful elf.

"You are not a beast, Jon. I have told you this many times." Lord Elrond said, exasperated with Jon for continuing to consider himself a beast in man's skin.

"Still, don't be fooled. I am more beast than man, and no one shall be safe until I have wholly mastered my bestial side," Jon growled. Did Elrond not know the danger of these rages?

"Jon ..." Írimë said sadly, knowing that a man as honourable and noble as Jon had such a low opinion of himself.

"I'm sorry Lalwen ... But it's true, I'm not saying this just because I'm afraid of myself, I wish for your wellbeing," Jon said, giving a quick glance at Galadriel, who only shed a silent tear knowing the anguish he had been through since their last meeting.

The Lady of Light feared for her beloved, worried that at some point he would succumb to some madness with the thought of keeping them safe, and Galadriel knew they couldn't stomach losing him a second time.

"You are a strange man Jon Snow No, Aemond Targaryen," The Celebrian Lady said, speaking for the first time.

"Darling? ..." Elrond said, surprised that his wife deigned to speak she was unnaturally quiet unless it was something of great importance.

Jon just raised an eyebrow and looked at his loved daughter curiously.

"What does my Lady mean?" The young Targaryen asked curiously.

"I still remember the day when the Lords of Middle-earth, showing us the magics of your northern blood then you and your companions received the gift of long life being as long-lived as Elros himself, and now, as I have learned, you have a strength, speed and vigour that only the mightiest among the Noldor possess and you despise these gifts? Erú granted you that power for a purpose ", said Celebrian, intrigued by the contempt that Jon feels for his new gifts.

However, Jon, Galadriel and Elrond realized that in all the time they had known each other, this was the first time Celebrian asked Jon a question directly.

"Mayhaps I have behaved rashly as there are times when I do enjoy my blessings," Jon said with satisfaction as he remembered how they have aided him in his lessons.

"Such as", Lord Elrond asked with a hand on his chin.

"When the Dwarves challenged me to a drinking contest after a hard day of work in the forges," Jon said, barely holding back his laugh.

"What happened that time, Nin Mel?" Írimë asked curiously as he remained using Jon's chest as a pillow; her beloved heartbeat was soothing for the Noldorian Princess, who had to use all her willpower not to fall asleep.

"There were four Dwarves, and we drank eight casks of their finest beer, and I was the only one who remained upright," Jon said with satisfaction as the elves looked at him, confused.

"And what does that have to do with your gifts?" Elrond asked with a hand on his chin.

"That when we finished the eight casks of beer I realized that I was soberer than when I started to drink did I say I enjoyed these gifts I'm mistaken they are a nuisance", Jon mumbled with annoyance when he remembered that already He could not enjoy alcohol as before and as when recovering from his drunkenness the Dwarves accused him of cheating in the contest.

"And what did King Durin say about it?" The Celebrian Lady asked curiously.

"He was the last dwarf to fall," Jon said with a laugh as Írimë and Celebrian tried and failed to contain their laughter; Elrond only shook his head in amusement while Galadriel was happy to see her love laughing.

After the laugh ended, Jon recounted how his gifts were helpful in the forges, especially his strength.

"The younger Dwarves weren't too happy when my workmanship equalled theirs; they used to tease me," Jon said wistfully.

"Did you enjoy it?" Lalwen asked suddenly.

"We solved our differences in the proving grounds though they hadn't earned the thrashing I delt them although their parents thought that it would teach humility," Jon said without giving importance to the matter while all the elves sighed.

"You don't seem to care if you hurt someone," Celebrian asked seriously, earning a look from his mother without noticing it, and Jon sighed as he gave the daughter of his love a fierce look of reproach.

"That's why my Lady that these gifts are not to my liking; I journeyed deep into the heart of the goblin warrens with Durin at my side, and we slaughtered them like hogs none were spared, and though many dwarves fell, I felt no pity nor remorse nothing save the thrill of battle was ever in my heart, and I fear I would slay a man or elf as quickly I would an Orc. I am more akin to beast than man, and I have been glutted on the blood of many foes, and I desire yet more to test myself, "Jon barked; it was apparent to all how much he had changed.

And that greatly dismayed them that such a noble young man could kill any being without remorse hearing his beloved Írimë cry and Jon wiped away her tears though all saw his eyes were stained as well everyone knew that Jon hated his new nature and that he desired to wholly be a man once more.

"If I could relinquish these powers and speak no more of them and be as a whole man once more, I would gladly do so, but alas fate is cruel, and so now I must walk a line between man and beast nobility and savagery I am the white wolf though I wish it wasn't so," Jon said solemnly as Galadriel's daughter felt remorse for having started that conversation.

"I apologize if I offended you, Jon Snow," Celebrian said, bowing.

"You did not, my Lady; however, I do not want to speak of this bitter issue anymore," Jon said, lowering his gaze to the ground.

Nobody argued with Jon about it.

"Well, in that case, I suppose you will be hungry," Lord Elrond said with a slight smile.

Jon's eyes lit up at the thought of food; the journey, while swift was tiring, finally he would have good wine, smoked meats and strawberry tarts.

"I'm actually starving, Lord Elrond. Are there strawberry tarts?" Jon asked with an anxious expression as the four elves merely laughed.

"Of course, we have a strawberry farm since Lady Írimë told us that those cakes were your favourites", Elrond said, looking with amusement at the scarlet face of his relative.

"Elrond!" Irimë shouted, ashamed, putting her face on Jon's chest to the amusement of Jon, who merely hugged her and placed a chaste kiss upon her lips.

"My sweet Lalwen, I thank you for remembering my favourite food," Jon said, enjoying the aroma, softness and warmth of his beloved elf.

After a delicious dinner, Jon was escorted to his chambers, and after taking a hot bath, he prepared to finally rest until he was greeted with a familiar aroma.

Returning to his bed, he found Lalwen with an anxious expression on her face and noticed that her braid had come loose, leaving her beautiful hair-free while she carried the box that King Durin sent her.

"Lalwen?" Jon asked, surprised to see her because he thought she would want to rest.

At first, Írimë did not answer, merely gazing at Jon robust body, her face turning ever more scarlet.

"Well, met Nin Mel. I was expecting you," Lalwen said in a mellow tone with an anxious look.

"Hello, my dear Lalwen," Jon said, willing to play along, but deep down, he was eager to take Lalwen to his bed.

"I must admit that your time among the dwarves has done a great many things for your body," Said the beautiful elf with a predatory expression.

Jon struggled to play along with his beloved, but he wished to savour this despite her considerable age; his beloved was a maiden, and to sully her with his bestial side filled him with a feeling of anguish, so Jon mastered himself for what was to come.

"I have brought you a gift," Lalwen said happily, approaching him.

That brought Jon out of his internal struggle.

"A gift?" He asked, intrigued, and a smiling Írimë finally opened her box to show Jon its contents.

Inside lay twin medallions forged of Mithril that shone a brilliant pearl colour in the moonlight had a chain that was also made of that beautiful metal, and to Jon's surprise, his beloved elf opened them, revealing that in one there was a small portrait of himself and on the other was a portrait of herself.

His beloved elf took the latter and gently placed it on Jon's neck and then gave him a tender kiss on the lips.

"That is my gift; I asked King Durin for a small portrait of you protected with Mithril and an imperishable crystal so that the image does not decay so that I can see your face in your long absences in Khazad-Dûm, and I decided to request one for you as well," Írimë said looking at him with her eyes alight with love.

"Thank you, Nin Mel, you have given me the best gift you could have given me to see you whenever I desire so as not to suffer your absence; I can't think of anything better," Said Jon, happy to have a portrait of Lalwen with him at all times and they both kissed.

"Well actually, Nin Mel, I have another gift for you, and at the risk of looking like a vain and arrogant woman, it's even pleasanter than the first one," Írimë said, caressing Jon's face.

"Lalwen ... are you? ..." Jon asked excitedly, and his Princess nodded.

"Yes, Jon, I have made you wait for fifty years, you have been very patient with me knowing the customs of my people, but I do not want to wait any longer," She said, starting to kiss him fiercely and then begin to kiss his chest forcefully, leaving marks of love on it.

That's when they took the last step, with Jon starting to kiss his beloved elf's neck and she starting to moan into Jon's chest.

It was at that very moment when Jon, intoxicated by the scent of his beloved elf, lost to his wolfish instincts and tore Lalwen's dress to his surprise and excitement.

The beautiful Princess of the Noldor felt her modesty begin to seize her mind for a few moments but seeing Jon's eyes gazing at her with an overwhelming desire to possess her, Írimë felt great dampness on her little clothes along with the longing to surrender to her to Jon, and so she removed her chest bindings allow her breast to bounce free.

When he saw those huge and full breasts, Jon began to kiss her neck and slowly went down to Lalwen's bust, now uncovered, and began to caress and kiss it, causing his beloved to moan in satisfaction.

"Ready, Lalwen? This is merely the beginning", The young Targaryen promised with a predatory smile, and then Írimë understood.

She was his prey, and she had been captured.

"Yes, Show me my dragon more, give me more," Írimë said, choking on his own desire.

"As my Lady commands ..." Jon said smugly.

Upon consummating the act, both Jon and Lalwen remained embraced with the noble elf leaning on the chest of her dragon; she was finally a woman Jon's wife now before the law of the Eldar.

"That was ..." Írimë said happily.

"I know, Lalwen, was it worth the wait?" Jon asked, kissing her on the head.

"Completely my dragon, finally after some six-thousand years I am a real woman," Írimë said, looking at Jon with love and kissing him tenderly as fatigue had overcome her.

"It's a long wait," Jon said, chuckling, and Írimë merely smiled.

"Rest Lalwen," Jon said, stroking her hair lovingly, and she nodded, laying on Jon's chest and listening to the beat of his heart.

The beautiful elf was sighing, exhausted but wholly in love, she never imagined such pleasure, hoped they would have many children, and the passion of their love would not fade as with so many of her kindred.

"Though it will be amusing to see Rhaenys expression when she discovered what had occurred," Írimë thought with amusement before her timidness and modesty had kept her from Jons bed but no more.

Instinctively Írimë's hand went to her belly, she had not become pregnant yet, but she was anxiously awaiting the birth of her first children.

Artanis had told her about the vision she had when Jon returned from the dead, all of Jon's lovers with more than one child, even with her and her niece Artanis.

"It seems that my beloved dragon will be fruitful," Írimë thought with annoyance; however, she had already accepted the bond between Jon and Artanis when her niece confessed that her marriage to Celeborn had been annulled.

That was something terrible for Artanis, who was weeping when she confessed it, and Írimë hugged her to give her comfort that was at the beginning of her time in Imladris, and some ten years later, she and Artanis finally spoke of the love they felt for Jon. Although there were tears and screams on the part of both, they came to the judgment that it was their destiny to love him and to be both loved by him despite the laws of their people, not to mention that according to what they had learned of Jon's ancestors he could take more than one wife.

But they both knew that their people would not accept this easily.

However, Artanis had confessed that all those maidens who followed Jon to Middle-Earth would bear his child, which had shocked Irime greatly.

Even so, she and Artanis decided to keep an eye on them; they may both accept the shared love of their dragon, but both will be the dearest to him and would show support rather than hinder each other.

With those thoughts in mind, Írimë finally fell asleep.

In her bed, a satisfied Galadriel closed her connection with Jon as she struggled to catch her breath.

Jon and his beloved aunt had finally consummated their relationship by becoming one before the laws of the Eldar, and she witnessed it all to their delight.

Although she and Jon had accepted their love, they had not yet consummated it. So Galadriel still resorts to the pleasure of spying on her beloved she had done this for since they had first met, and she had no desire to stop.

But this time, it was different; she witnessed her aunt become a true woman, and she had enjoyed it.

Ever since she had seen her beloved aunt climax so many years ago after witnessing an orgy between Jon and the rest of his concubines, Galadriel had developed an unholy desire for her aunt and often dreamed of sharing Jon with her in a night of passion.

And now after this, after seeing the beautiful naked bodies of Jon and her aunt as they gave in to passion ... Galadriel affirmed two things, the first is that she longed to take her aunt Írimë as a lover and she would not be at peace with herself until he shared a bed with her and Jon.

But first, she must consummate her relationship with her dragon.

"Did he say he would go to Dorwinion? ... Mmmm ... mayhaps I shall go with him besides, I still have to give him my gift?" Galadriel thought, smiling, covering her nakedness with a white robe and gazing at the moon in silence while a plan was beginning to hatch in her head.