The Lords of Westernesse and the Elves gather in the hidden valley to discuss the plans of battle, all the while two wolves come forth to bear their love harboured for so long.
Kindly leave a comment, and I'm pleased to say on the sixth of last month my story has reached 2 years old I thank you all for reading this long.
2 weeks later, near the Ford of Bruinen
Finally, after two weeks of travelling from Amon Sul across the countryside, they came to the edge of a narrow gorge into the River Bruinen, but this was a river well hidden in the moors, and the foothills of the Misty Mountains. But it hindered them none as they marched on good order down into the ravine, passing crumbling rock with patches and slashes of grass -green and moss- green showing where water might be, they too passed gullies so deep one could almost leap over them and bogs though not of the horrid variety these were places of lush greenery and sweet-smelling flowers.
Indeed, it was a long journey as morning passed, and afternoon came, but finally, after cresting another large slope, they were greeted by the voice of hurrying water in rocky bed at the bottom; the scent of trees was in the air; and there was a light on the valley side across the water. Jon never forgot the way as they slithered and slipped in the dusk down the steep zig zag path into the secret valley of Rivendell. The air grew warmer as they got lower, and the smell of the Pinetree's filled him with happiness. Their spirits rose as they went down and down. The trees changed to beech and oak, and here was a comfortable feeling in the twilight. The last green had almost faded out of the grass, when they came at length to an open glade not far above the banks of the stream.
'We finally arrived', Thought Jon gazing at the Last Homely House with joy in his heart; it had been many years since he had walked these lands, and he was eager to revel in their beauty once more.
'Anxious, my Wolf?' said a voice unexpectedly, and he was startled to see Galadriel next to him; still, he smiled and welcomed her company all the same.
'Aye, my Star, now we may rest for a bit and perhaps enjoy our hosts' hospitality.' Jon said, eager for a bath.
'True, but don't be so nervous my beloved fool; after all, you still have much to do before resting... a pity as I would delight in bathing with you again.' Galadriel purred, pleased that her beloved countenance reddened so swiftly as her words.
For days his Star had been rather bold; on the one hand, she was seductive, thoughtful and sweet as always, but in the depths of his beloved eyes, Jon could notice a particular anxiousness.
As if she saw to ends not yet certain… Or plotting some way to unsettle him.
'Why do I feel as if I'm being eyed by a predator?' Jon thought nervously.
'Look!' he cried... 'Welcome all to the fairest of the realms of my Kingdom,' said Gil-galad, and Jon was drawn out of his thoughts; then suddenly, a horn echoed through the valley as a company of Elves came upon them, though it seemed they hadn't foreseen their coming so swiftly.
'It seems they were sent to accompany us here, but their efforts were in vain', Jon thought as the Elves dismounted their horses and knelt before Gil-galad.
"High King Gil-galad..." said one of the elves, Erestor, one of Lord Elrond's advisors, a master of lore and perhaps the wisest of the Elves save for those most high.
"Ah, Erestor… Elrond sent you for us, did he not?" The King asked, amused when he saw the aged Elves troubled countenance.
"Gladly, your Majesty, my Lord Elrond has been preparing Imladris for your arrival, and he thought it best for us to escort you here though it seems we dallied too long," Nestor said, ashamed.
'You are forgiven, now come escort us to my Regent the journey was pleasant, but I yearn for wine and comfort', The King ordered, and Erestor nodded quickly, returning to his horse.
"Please follow us; my Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían await you in the High Hall," Erestor said, and then at once, they began their march into the valley below.
'I am anxious to see my daughter again, Jon…' Galadriel said merrily.
'I'm certain she is eager to see you, my love... let us not tarry any longer', Jon answered, gladly eager to see his adopted daughter after so long away.
The light of the clear stars burned blue in the sky, casting a silvery glow upon all it touched..., and a wholesome peace lay on the land. Erestor led them upon familiar paths until, at last, they came to the porch of Imladris and there sat Elrond and Celebrían attended by the knights of their Household; upon glimpsing the High King of the Noldor, many Elves fell to their knees while others drew horns and Silver trumpets, filling the valley with sweet melodies of the Elves, and it was at that moment that Elrond, taking his wife's hand, came forth and bowed to his King.
"My King… I welcome you now to my halls and renew my oaths of fealty ere we march to war," said the Lord of Rivendell proudly.
"My King…" Celebrían said in a melodious voice, though Jon could feel her eyes searching for her mother.
"On your feet…" The King ordered, and the Lords of Imladris obeyed, pleased to see their High Lord once more.
"Welcome, King Elendil of the Faithful long has it been since you have walked these halls," said Elrond, bowing low to the King of Arnor.
Hail, and well met at last!' said Elendil to Elrond. 'It gladdens my heart to see you once more, my Lord.'
At length, Elrond spoke. 'Hail, and well met, Elendil, son of Amandil! I welcome you here. For behold! The storm comes, and now all friends should gather together, lest each singly be destroyed.'
"Elrond… I see you have prepared… well done, my herald," said Gil-galad acknowledging his most favoured servant.
"Of course, my King, all has been made ready for your coming though I suspect you wish to rest before the Council; thusly, I have prepared the Gardens and chambers for your stay..." Elrond said, and the King nodded gratefully.
"Thank you, yes, our march has been long… A rest will be appreciated," said Gil-galad allowing his horse to be led away by the stablemasters, and Elrond nodded before his gaze fell upon them.
"Welcome, Isildur Son of Elendil, and to you, Lord Loras and Robar. I hope you find Imladris to your liking," said Elrond warmly, his eyes alight with mirth and sorrow.
'The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Elrond son of Eärendil,' said Loras. 'For is it not proper to greet those who have tarried from your halls longest firstly?'
"Loras…" Elendil growled, and at once, the youngest Tyrell shrank in fear, knowing he had angered his King.
"Well, I think it's better to go rest… We've been riding for our days, and our horses deserve grain and water," said Elendil gloomily, even he was stiff and weary from the long ride.
"Lady Celebrían..." Jon said, striding forward to greet the daughter of his beloved, who was busying herself with the pampering of his mount, which greatly pleased the hoary horse
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Jon or do you perhaps prefer Baelon? I must apologise for my disrespect, but I don't see my mother or my great-aunt with you," said Celebrían though her question was swiftly answered by the sound of mighty hooves, and there came into view the silvered carriage of Írimë.
Though the carriage came to a halt, the servants accompanying the wheelhouse made no move to open the door, grumbling. Jon knew what his beloved expected of him, so he strolled to the carriage and opened the door.
Reaching out his hand, Jon felt his dearest take his hand though as he made to hoist her out of the carriage, she lunged forward and kissed him with a fierce passion, indeed Jon thought she might continue were it not for his Star eying them evilly, so with haste he helped Írimë from the carriage and moved to offer his arm to Galadriel who accepted with a warm smile.
'Thank you, Jon, you are most courteous', said Galadriel, taking his hand and kissing his brow to the wonder of many who gathered and his embarrassment as Celebrían was watching them keenly.
'Don't fret, my Wolf, in any case, my daughter knows about us… Now I think you should help your grandmother to get down,' Galadriel said, beckoning to his grandmother, who was eyeing him expectantly.
He smiled merrily, offering his hand; Rhaella took it with a practised grace and stood beside him smiling.
"Thank you, Jon," Rhaella said, kissing him on the cheek.
"You're most welcome, grandmother," Jon said though his countenance reddened as he saw Isildur and Elendur snickering at him in jest, yet he knew rightly how to deal with them.
"My Queen…" Jon said merrily, savouring the expression of horror on Isildur's face as he saw his wife exit the carriage.
"Thank you, Prince Jon, it's very kind of you and good to see such courtesies persist in these dark days," Queen Berendreth said as her husband rushed to meet them, but she glowered and spurned him.
"I thank you, Jon", Isildur growled, but he said nothing and merely started laughing at his King's misfortune.
"That was cruel of you, Jon", His grandmother said, frowning at him.
"She is right, my Nin Mel… You act as a child sometimes," Írimë said, agreeing with his grandmother.
"By the Valar", Jon groused, displeased that his family would betray him so.
"Don't grumble so Jon, now go to our King… He shall need your advice," Rhaella said vexedly, and he groaned, watching as Galadriel went off with Celebrían.
"Naneth..." Celebrían cried, rushing to embrace her mother.
"Yendë..." Galadriel said, gladdened to see her daughter after so many years apart.
"I've missed you so, Naneth..." Celebrían said, her eyes wet with tears.
"As have I, my little Songbird..." Galadriel said, drying her daughter's tears.
"When I heard news that you had journeyed to Minas Ithil, I was frightened, thinking some foul fate would await you there," Celebrían said nervously, and Galadriel laughed softly, beginning to play with her daughter's silver hair.
"Don't fret, my daughter; there was nought to imperil me, for I did not go alone..." Galadriel said, placing a kiss upon her brow.
"Still... O, mother, It fills me with such joy to see you again," said Celebrían embracing her mother tightly.
"So do I, dear, although I am saddened our reunion should come in such unhappy times," Galadriel said wistfully, and Celebrían nodded.
"I know, Elrond and I have been wearied preparing all for your arrival; even now, my dearest turns his sights eastward, hoping to discern the enemies' movements", Celebrían answered wearily.
"You are wise, my daughter..." said Galadriel, pleased by her daughter's foresight.
It was then her daughter noticed the tiara she wore, and her eyes grew wide in amazement. 'Mother, that is a beautiful piece you wear, but I have never seen such finery. How came you by such a bauble?
"Thank you, my daughter. It was a gift and one I've grown exceedingly fond of though I do not wear it often," she said, with a smile.
Celebrían smiled. 'Oh, mother, you mustn't leave me in suspense!' she said. 'I wish to meet the creator of such a beautiful trinket!
It was then Jon had returned. "My Ladies... forgive my intrusion," said Jon bowing low in apology.
"I'm sorry, Jon, the desire to see my daughter was too great," Galadriel replied, knowing her beloved was weary from their journies.
"No, my Lady, I must apologise for interrupting your moment of happiness with your daughter, but I fear that soon there will be a Council, and your wisdom shall prove valuable", Jon said courteously.
Celebrían said nought but instead embraced him and spoke softly in his ear, "All is well, Jon… I know you long to spend time with my mother, so I made certain to prepare suitable chambers for you… Although it seems to me that my great-aunt will not be happy," and his countenance reddened once more.
'There is little doubt that she is the daughter of my Star… She enjoys japing just as much.' Jon thought as his mind rang with Galadriel's merry laugh.
"Come on then… Go and seek out Elendil. I shall make certain your chambers are ready… I understand that you and my great aunt have wed Jon," Celebrían said with an evil look that sufficed Jon with suspicion.
"What is my Lady up to?" Jon asked nervously, although, at that moment, he heard the voices of his brothers in arms calling for aid.
"I have taken a great deal of your time, and I fear I must depart; I hope you shall enjoy the time you spend with Celebrían, my lady…" said Jon warily, as his adopted daughter smiled in a manner similar to her mother when she was plotting.
"Thank you, Prince Jon… I hope to see you later…." Galadriel said lustily, caring little of their present company.
Jon nodded and bowed low before returning to join his companions.
"Celebrían, my daughter… it seems you are plotting something," said Galadriel, her voice sullen with displeasure.
"Of course, mother…" Celebrían said warily upon seeing her mother's discontent.
"In that case… I want you to help me find something among Jon's things…." Galadriel said maliciously, and Celebrían stared at her mother in bewilderment.
"Mother, has Jon offended you in some way?" Celebrían asked, noticing the cunning glint in her mother's eyes.
"Yes, he did… And I desire to repay him for his gall ... Come, my little Songbird, we are searching for a book," Galadriel said, dragging her to the place where they had left the horses and luggage.
After speaking with Elrond concerning their mustering and journey across the hinterlands, it was thought best they should rest before speaking of the war, so an escort was summoned to take their luggage and show them to their chambers.
From a way behind him, Jon could hear the grumblings of Arianne and Daenerys, who were vexed they should not spend time together; his viper seemed especially forlorn as she had hoped they might picnic by one of the many beautiful waterfalls that fed the valley.
Once all was readied, the Valley was a bustle with activity as the Men of Westernesse and Elves of Lindon began to make camp about the hinterlands and meadows below as such a host could not all reside in the Halls of Elrond.
Though there was some good fortune as, despite his long years away, Jon had the same chambers as when he first came to this valley, following the winding paths, he, at last, came upon his quarters and, upon entering, was sufficed with the sweet smell of herbs and fresh water, yet as he looked upon his room, Jon noticed much had changed in his absence.
Before, his room had a spacious bed, yes, but now it was much larger; gone too was his simple oaken closet replaced with one of great height and width, and lastly, the bookcase had been removed. No doubt it would be replaced by Lalwen's silvered mirror.
'This is the work of Celebrían,' Jon thought, as he disrobed and retrieved his pipe before sliding into the warm bath, all was silent, broken only by the soft puffs of his pipe, as he blew smoke rings into the air.
Jon had missed smoking immensely. For many years, his loved ones had made certain he could rarely indulge in the Westman's weed often times they had hidden his pipes or thrown the tobacco pouches in the Anduin; indeed, their actions had become such a commonality that the soldiery of Osgiliath japed that he was cursed by ill fortune.
So there he sat for what seemed an age, enjoying the warmth of the water and the aroma of the tobacco, but he knew Lalwen would surely be here soon, and he did not desire to hear her protests nor to discover he still had yet another smoking pipe.
He got out of the tub, stowed the tobacco and pipe, and then dressed in a simple robe. Soon he began to feel sleepy and laid upon the bed, hoping to nap before the council, yet as he began to doze, there was a banging upon his door; he wondered who it could be as Lalwen wouldn't bother knocking, nor would any of his other loved ones Jon frowned vexed that his rare moment of leisure had just been interrupted. He stood up in frustration and yanked the door open, half expecting some maid come to inform him that his presence had been ordered, but it was no maid rather, it was Sansa who seemed wholly embarrassed.
"Sansa…" Jon muttered in surprise.
"Hello... can I come in?" his cousin rasped nervously.
Jon nodded, noticing that Sansa carried something wrapped in cloth, though as she entered, she took a deep breath and glowered.
'That horrid smell! have you been smoking again!' she said. 'And do not lie, Jon. I can smell its foul odour everywhere.'
"Yes…" he admitted, unsettled as Sansa's eyes darkened angrily.
"You know I don't like that you smoke that horrid plant; nobody cares for it... The smell is repulsive," Sansa said, discomfited; he smiled, before reaching over and tussling her auburn tresses, something he knew would vex her greatly.
"Aye, but it soothes the mind and helps me to think," Jon said, amused as Sansa slapped his hand away.
"Stop treating me as a child, Jon," said Sansa, her race reddening in embarrassment.
"Now, what brings you here?" asked Jon curiously.
"I came to give you a gift, silly cousin," Sansa said, showing him the neatly wrapped package she had brought.
"Another embroidery of yours?" Jon asked with a smile as he saw Sansa turn the same shade as her hair.
Jon took the package graciously and opened it, revealing a beautiful copper coloured robe whose cuffs were sewn with silvered thread and overlaid with motifs of songbirds and flowers.
"You seldom wear doublets, so I thought to make you a robe in the Elvish fashion," said Sansa curling a lock of hair nervously.
"Oh, Sansa, it's splendid…." Jon said, embracing Sansa, who eagerly returned his affections though he flushed in embarrassment as he felt his cousin's ample breast push against his chest.
He tried to part from Sansa, but she held him tighter, burying her face in his chest.
"Sansa…" Jon moaned softly.
She made no move to leave, snuggling into his chest yet further, doubtlessly hoping to ignore the smell of tobacco and smoke.
"Come on, Sansa, I'm weary, and I know you are too…." Jon attempted to say, but Sansa stretched out, bearing herself before him though her dress left little to his imagination, and he was compelled to look away.
"So… rest, I'll tend to you while you sleep…" Sansa said, her blue eyes sparkling in mirth.
"Sansa, what's wrong?" asked Jon, his face growing redder by the moment as he saw Sansa's buxom form laid before him.
"Nothing, it's just... Just that, you scarcely spend time with Arya and me, ever occupied by governing, or Valar forbid... spending time with your women," Sansa said nervously, although her heart burned hot with jealousy.
And Jon baulked at Sansa's claim, forgetting his nervousness, he righted himself and answered as best he thought.
"I'm so sorry, Sansa, but I've… flourished among the Peoples of Middle Earth and with that comes many duties…" said Jon wisely, hoping to calm his cousin's ire.
Sansa's face grew livid, twisted with rage, and a red light was kindled in her eyes. She laughed wildly. 'And what of your women cousin?' she cried, and her voice rose in anger. 'What of them who I am forced to see parade about as if they have claim to you.'
"Ah... well, I..." Jon faltered, but at that moment he heard the door fly open, and Arya bounded into the room.
"JON!...!" Arya cried gaily but halted when she saw Sansa on his bed.
"ARYA!" Sansa bellowed, becoming angrier by the minute once more her sister had spoiled the mood.
"Arya?... Why this fuss?" Jon asked, disheartened that he would have no rest, and Arya grumbled sadly.
"I just wanted to ask you if you liked to practice with me a bit before... UGH!... You were smoking again!" Arya groaned, her nose crinkling in disgust at the heady aroma.
"Okay... I'll fetch some mint... Now tell me why you have come here?" asked Jon wearily.
"That's what I wish to know, Arya. What are you doing here?" Sansa asked, mistrusting her sister's intentions.
Though Arya glowered at her before speaking, her voice sufficed with anger. "Why are you in Jon's bed?"
"That's none of your business..." Sansa answered, returning her sister's glare.
Jon understood that Sansa and Arya were about to get into a fight with each other and decided to calm things down before they drew attention.
"Enough the two of you! How often must we repeat this dance?... No more fighting... now what do you want, Arya?" Jon asked, eyeing his cousin, who batted her eyes bashfully.
"I simply wanted to ask you to practice, but I see you're busy..." Arya said, envious of her sister.
"If that is all off with you now, go away!" Sansa said smugly.
"No, I won't go... I'll stay here", growled Arya; at that moment, she seemed less a woman and more a rabid she-wolf baring her fangs.
"I'm afraid I must decline, Arya, King Elendil will soon have need of me, and I must be ready; we will have to leave our sparring for another time, forgive me," Jon said gloomily.
"In that case, wear my gift when you go to meet with King Elendil," Sansa said with a singsong voice.
"Gift?" Arya asked when she saw the copper-coloured tunic lying next to her cousin; at once, she was filled with a fierce rage, though Arya had ever abhorred the Ladies' pastimes, she had longed to give Jon gifts just as Sansa had done, and she has never given him a gift… because she had never thought to learn something as trivial as sewing… it made her burn with envy that those women should make beautiful things for her love yet not herself.
"May I ask what have vexed you so?... You act as squabbling children fighting over a favourite toy," Jon growled though perhaps this was foolish as his cousins merely stared at him as if he had grown a second head.
"Damn fool…" Arya growled with a sigh.
At once, Sansa rose from the bed, and Jon's gaze was drawn to the sheerness of his cousin's raiment... she wasn't wearing small clothes.
"Sansa!" Jon yelled bashfully though his chastisement died when he gleaned Sansa's true intentions.
Sansa had plotted this, dressing as a flowering maiden... his own cousin was trying to seduce him.
"Sansa but what…" But he was swiftly silenced when she threw herself upon him and drew him into a heated kiss, yet he lay there astounded by his cousin's boldness as her tongue slithered into his mouth... Until, either out of excitement or perversion, he returned Sansa's kiss until she parted from him and grimaced.
"Uugghhh… The taste of that horrible plant is beyond words," Sansa growled as if she wished to vomit, yet his question died when Arya came forward and kissed him just as fiercely.
If Sansa's assault was hurried, Arya's kiss was far bolder. To make up for the disparity in their statures, Arya had cunningly thrown herself on him, straddling him so that he had little choice but to accept her tenderness; though out of the corner of his eye, Jon spied Sansa glaring at them evilly.
Though just as swiftly as it came, Arya's kiss ended. She sputtered and grimaced at the taste of the tobacco. "You must stop smoking, you damn fool..." Arya growled. 'It does little good to share if your mouth tastes as a horse's arse.'
'Why?' said Jon. 'Why, do you come to me now as brazenly as you might with fierce heart and fiercer passion!'
"Must we tell you now after all that has happened?" Sansa said, glancing at the ground.
"You're a fool," Arya croaked, her eyes wet with tears.
"But how?... How did this happen?" Jon said in bewilderment.
"Oh, my foolish cousin, don't you see? My sisterly adoration for you withered we first came to dwell in Annuminas, when you swore allegiance to King Elendil… My love for you changed, and I saw you with different eyes," Sansa said tearfully, sitting on the bed again.
"And I had loved you ever those days long past when you visited Annúminas, we trained together roamed the countryside keeping the land safe like some fairy tale I knew I would have no other save you… so I refused the love of many all for my want of you," Arya said bashfully, taking a seat beside her sister.
"By the Valar... I must, I must be cursed..." Jon said, laughing pitifully, remembering those faraway days when he came to Tol Morwen; it was there he had accepted his love for Rhaenys and Dany, yet never had he thought Sansa and Arya would hold such feelings for him, alas he hadn't known them but a few years of his boyhood, yet those days seem but a pittance in the enormity of their long lives. Still, now all was made clear their envy of his loves, the closeness they shared this bitter jealousy… was not of sisters who cared for their brother but of women in love.
"Please, Jon… say something," Sansa said nervously.
"I don't know what to tell you, Sansa… these are strange days indeed", Jon soughed.
"Say you want us… you have given your heart to many women, all of whom share your blood; why not us?" Arya asked bitterly, standing up suddenly.
"I knew nothing of their kinship to me till long after we fell in love... this is far queerer," Jon answered harshly.
'Jon!' said Sansa, taking his hand and kissing his brow. 'In our many long years together, I was courted by hundreds of knights, all good and brave as I had dreamed of as a child, but none caught my fancy. I ever likened them to you, and each was found wanting… For many years I felt revolted by the truth of my heart, but when Eru returned you to us, I resolved to bear my feelings to you, since then I have hoped beyond all sense that you should see me as one worthy of your love and one day bear my heart to you… and that moment has come!' Sansa said, her eyes alight with joy and sorrow for fear of the truth and fear still of her beloved's answer.
"Sansa…" Jon said breathlessly, and it seemed to him that her loveliness amid her grief would pierce his heart, for her love was fierce as fire.
"Aye, Jon, please... I've no talent for words like Sansa, but I love you all the same..." Arya said fearfully.
He gazed at them, wishing beyond hope he could turn them away to tell them he would never see them as more than kin, but seeing the love they bore him, he did not have the strength to reject them; to cause them such grief, yet this was not a choice made lightly.
"Sansa, Arya... I'm afraid I can't make such a choice right now... I must join the council, or my absence will surely be frowned upon... We shall speak when I am done," Jon said, glancing at his cousins sadly, and both nodded.
"Please, Jon, use my gift... I beg you," Sansa said, though her voice was lovely, it was marred by sadness.
"I shall, Sansa; I will not grieve your heart further by refusing such loveliness when it is given," Jon said and stooped to kiss her brow.
"Damned fool!" Arya yelled jealously, and Jon laughed merrily before kissing her as well.
"Go now, for my heart is restless from this truth; when all is settled, we shall speak," Jon said with great authority that Sansa and Arya didn't dare to challenge him.
"Take care, and I hope to not hear from the servants you have been quarrelling again," Jon said, and soon they had departed his chambers, though not before kissing him once more.
'By the Valar… Who now is left to confess their love then?' Jon thought bitterly.
After dressing in the elven robe Sansa knitted for him, Jon prepared to leave his chambers; he wondered where Galadriel and Lalwen had gotten to it wasn't like them to vanish.
"Fear not, my wolf, my aunt and I were merely preparing some delicacies for you," Galadriel said, suddenly appearing behind him.
"Galadriel... You frightened me," Jon said, regaining his calm; Galadriel smiled at him though her countenance swiftly soured as she plucked the mint leaves from his hand, but he said nothing, merely taking the mint back and popped the leaf under his tongue.
"Did I truly scare you?... Usually, I am unable to do so as you sense my coming, my beloved, though now your spirit is restless like a storm in the sea," Galadriel said lovingly.
"You know me too well, my Star", Jon said, kissing her hand, and Galadriel smiled.
"I know you as well as you know myself... Although sometimes I find you too unpredictable, my beloved fool," Galadriel said, latching the door once more and sitting on the bed.
"Galadriel?" Jon asked, confused.
"Jon... I am your wife, and nought in my many days has made me ever so joyful, yet it pains me to see you melancholy, come, my beloved, harken to me and soothe your spirit," Galadriel said lovingly, and so he lay upon the bed and rested his head on his beloved's lap revealing in her warmth and sweetness.
"It's been so many years since I leaned on your lap like this... I feel like I'm going to fall asleep," Jon groaned happily.
"Indeed, not since you bested the Great Worm, though forgive me for recalling such an unhappy day, my love," said Galadriel gloomily, twirling her fingers through her husband's ebon tresses.
"Do not worry yourself, my love, though I must know how come you here without others noticing?" Jon asked, delighting in the tender caress of his beloved wife.
"I asked Celebrían to have my chambers moved closest to yours; my Wolf, my daughter, gave me the rooms next to yours and instructed that they build a secret door in one of the cloakrooms so that I may see you when I wish" Galadriel replied happily.
"Apparently, the sweet Celebrían is devious as her mother," Jon said, amused, though Galadriel frowned and pinched his cheeks harshly.
'By the Valar that hurt', groaned Jon angrily.
"You deserve it for such cheek..." Galadriel said, pampering him again.
"If you say so, my Star, now tell me, where is Lalwen? And what delicacies are you talking about?" Jon asked eagerly.
"Well, my aunt was most anxious to come here first, but we thought it best to tend to our gardens; we've grown bushels of strawberries that are often baked into the cakes you enjoy so much," Galadriel said, amused as she knew how much her husband enjoyed strawberries.
"Truly?" He asked eagerly. Lalwen's strawberries were a treat he held dear since they first courted, and she was all too happy to indulge him; indeed, he thought them so sweet as she grew them with the love they shared.
"Yes, at this moment, my beloved aunt is preparing your cakes for you herself while the servants prepare meals for us, and as for your other concubines, it seems that the journey was too wearying for some; the servants told me that several of them are already abed though it seems your cousins were quite vigorous," Galadriel said vexedly though her smile did not falter.
"Did you spy on us, my Star?" Jon asked, amazed, and to his amusement, Galadriel reddened.
"It was not my intention, my foolish wolf; I came to see you and listened to them... Even their confession of love," Galadriel said, wishing bitterly that such ill fortune had not befallen her.
Jon regretted his foolishness, and reproached himself for weakness of will; he knew this would cause his beloved no end of vexation, yet he could not deny the love those two held for him. After several moments he rose again and gazed into Galadriel's eyes.
"Did you know?' Jon asked, 'Did you know that Sansa and Arya loved me?" as his beloved cast down her proud gaze.
"Of course, my beloved fool, and I'm not the only one who knows the depth of your cousins' feelings for you, my aunt and your other loves, even your brothers in arms, knew the truth; in fact, we have all known it for years the only one who didn't notice is you, which isn't a surprise," Galadriel answered with a motley of amusement and vexation as Jon reddened, but before he could respond, she returned his head to her lap.
Whatever his beloved was plotting, clearly, Galadriel didn't intend to release him anytime soon... Not that he was grumbling, mind you, as her sweet laughter filled the room.
"Thank you for caring for me as you do, my star," Jon said, taking her hands in his own and caressing them tenderly.
"I know, hearing such a confession of love from two people whom you considered family for more than a century is difficult; I need not enter your mind to glean such… Although a part of you had already decided what to do," Galadriel said wearily, and he tensed.
"I… I… I didn't…" Jon tried to say, ashamed at being caught, but Galadriel would have none of it and pinched his cheek hard.
"My beloved Foolish Wolf, long have my aunt and I known that you would share the love of many women and if such a thing displeased us, we would have simply denied you; you may take them as lovers if you wish though if you feel no love for them, it is best to tell them now rather than let them linger in darkness and doubt," Galadriel said without mercy in his voice enjoying having his Wild Wolf under his power.
"Aye, I know I'm witless in the ways of love, but I don't deserve to be treated as a scoundrel," Jon grumbled, displeased that his Star would treat him cruelly.
"Truly?... Remember your sinful crimes against my beloved aunt and against me," Galadriel said with a singsong voice preventing Jon from leaving her lap.
"What crimes?" Jon asked indignantly.
"You befouled me, Jon Snow; you seduced me and made me, Galadriel, the daughter of Finarfin the Great King of the Noldor in Aman and Eärwen Princess of the Teleri, take you as my husband, even sharing a bed with my own aunt, Does it seem so little to you? Galadriel said as her eyes glowed in mirth.
"Well, it seems that your corruption was swift for one so mighty in lineage," Jon said, but then Galadriel began to pull both cheeks hard, and he whimpered in pain.
"I hope you learn your lesson, Jon, though there is much we must speak of," Galadriel laughed merrily, and he went pale.
'What is she planning?' Jon thought fearfully.
"Oh, my Foolish Wolf, don't be so distrustful of me; my intent in coming here was simply to give you a small gift," Galadriel said, her smile wicked and mischievous.
"A gift?" Jon asked curiously.
She laughed merrily. "Well, I admit that the idea is my aunt's. She insists you appear as a true Lord of the Eldar, so I asked one of the few artisans who accompanied me to craft something for you..." Galadriel then rose to her feet and left his chambers only to reappear a moment later carrying a small oaken box which she handed to him graciously.
"Open it," Galadriel said excitedly, her eyes alight with mirth.
Inside the box was a band of silvered steel; it bore no ornament save a single ruby that shone as flame as he lay his hands upon the band, a pleasant warmth shot up his hands, and all seemed well as if spring had come again.
"Yes, for my people, silver is far more beloved than gold, and often those of mighty lineage wore silvered crowns such as those of Thingol and Elrond; considering your lineage, my aunt and I thought it best to mix silver and steel…." Galadriel said happily, pleased by the wonderment in her beloved's eyes.
"It is wonderous, my Star but will the smiths not grow suspicious? … They'll be astonished if they see me wearing it," Jon said.
"Perhaps… Although it has been so long since my aunt and I asked them to make pieces for us that they were pleased when we commissioned this diadem… But I am afraid that you are responsible for their misery as my aunt and I will call nothing fair, unless it be your gift.' Galadriel said, placing her hand on her breast and laughing.
"Thank you for your kind words, although I wear no ornament save the ring you bid me forge you," Jon said with a guileful smile, which she returned and kissed him.
"I know very well, my Foolish Wolf, but your grandmother and I think it best that you should dress as befits your lineage... you must see yourself as more than a mere Prince of the South, for you are the heir of the three houses and linage of the Elven Kings equal to Elrond and Fingolfin in might and wisdom," Galadriel said, amused when she saw Jon's bashful countenance.
"I've never had such care for such wearing such finery unless need called for it," Jon said, still caressing the diadem.
"Well, that will change, and I shall not shy away from this as others might have unless it be a day of war you shall wear the raiment's we gift you and act according to your lineage," Galadriel said and set the diadem upon his head and smiled.
"You look as a mighty Lord of the Eldar, my foolish wolf," Galadriel said lovingly.
"If you say so, my sweet Galadriel, I think we should go; the War Council should start soon... And I want to try Lalwen's strawberry tarts," Jon said, getting up and offering his hand to Galadriel, who gladly took it.
"As you wish, Jon, although I have a question for you, my beloved fool", Galadriel said, caressing his face lovingly.
"Yes?" Jon asked.
"Don't you have anything to tell me?... perhaps a good book you've stumbled upon?" Galadriel asked wickedly, delighting in her beloved's fright.
"Who told you about the book?" Jon asked, terrified, knowing very well that Galadriel would make him pay for hiding such knowledge from her.
"It was Elendil who naively revealed your treachery, my beloved. Did you truly think you might hide such a thing from me?" Galadriel asked, her voice dangerously soft as she began to drag him to her chambers.
"My sweet and merciful Star I…." Jon began, trying to justify himself, but Galadriel silenced him by placing a finger on her lips.
"No, Jon, I am afraid that for now, our minds must be focused on the War Council of our Kings but make no mistake, even though I have fulfilled my duty as a wife giving you love, comfort and guidance as well as a gift I will not forget such a slight… You will pay for such impudence, my Wolf," Galadriel said gleefully, pleased by the look of surprise on her husband's face.
"Does anyone else know?" Jon asked nervously.
"If you question if Shiera knows, not yet, but I planned to tell her and be present when she expresses her feelings to you," Galadriel said evilly, and for a moment, her wolf turned pale as silver.
"Do you want to hear my new poem about you, my Star?" Jon asked nervously as they walked to the gardens.
The light of the clear autumn evening 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.
After several minutes, Jon and Galadriel came to the porch that served as the entrance to the gardens, which was patrolled by several soldiers who, seeing Galadriel, bowed deeply and allowed them to pass though as they walked the path, a single clear bell rang out.
"That is the warning bell for the Council…." Jon said vexedly.
"Then let's pick up the pace, my Wolf. I don't like being late", Galadriel said, and he nodded with a smile.
The Council of the Last Alliance had begun.
They were welcomed to a large chamber with high glass windows and floors of silvered stone; at the centre of the room sat a great stone table; on the left sat the Elvish delegation, while the Men of Westernesse sat on the right and resting on the table were several maps of Middle Earth.
King Gil-galad was there, and seated about him were Elrond, Celebrían, Círdan and Glorfindel, while to the right of the latter sat a seafaring elf named Galdor and finally the Elf now known as Nestor who had sought them upon their coming to the valley.
Opposite him sat King Elendil, who was joined by Isildur, Elendur, Loras, Robar and lastly, his grandmother, who smiled upon seeing him though her countenance soured upon seeing Galadriel on his arm, but she hid it well.
"Finally, now, if you, please have a seat…." Ordered King Gil-galad as he motioned to the last two seats at the table at the end of the table
Following courtesy, Jon held a chair for Galadriel, seating her next to Nestor.
"Thank you, Jon," said Galadriel gratefully, her eyes alight with love.
He thought it best to seat himself next to Loras and Robar though as he sat down, Jon saw that Círdan was eyeing him with keen interest. 'Did he suspect something?' his mentor though of prodigious age, saw further and deeper than any other in Middle Earth.
"Finally... all are here; we can begin," King Elendil said wearily.
"Without the Lady Írimë?" Prince Elendur asked curiously.
"And without Arianne and the others?" Jon asked, intrigued that he didn't see any of them there.
"Forgive her, Prince Elendur, that my aunt is not a warrior and has little interest in these meetings; if she was invited to this Council, it is likely that she has decided not to attend," Galadriel said sagely.
"Furthermore, I spied Lady Írimë happily tending to her strawberry gardens," Lady Celebrían said with a smile, her gaze falling on him, while Robar and Loras sniggered in amusement.
"I didn't know Lady Írimë was so passionate about growing strawberries", Galdor said as Loras and Robar burst out laughing.
"It is not that Lady Írimë is particularly passionate about strawberries; rather, she does it for someone else," King Elendil said merrily, inclining his head towards Jon, who had turned as red as the berry he loved so dearly.
"The Lady Írimë is very proud of her garden and cares for them as if it was her own child," Lord Elrond said.
"It's true, we can ever rely on Jon to ease the tension, but now our minds must be set on other matters," King Gil-galad said with a smile.
"As for Rhaenys and the others, they wished to attend, but I thought it best they should be elsewhere lest they start a fight and delay the proceedings," said Rhaella wearily.
"So, I bid them help my sons organise our hosts; I thought that would keep everyone out of trouble," Isildur said merrily.
Jon just suppressed the urge to bang his head on the table repeatedly in embarrassment as he heard his beloved Estrella's laughter in his mind.
"Well, now… is their news from Greenwood and Lorien?" King Gil-galad asked Elrond, and he nodded.
"Yes, Kings Oropher and Amdír have sent missives to Imladris. It seems they have the wisdom to see that peace shall not be achieved until Sauron is cast down and defeated.' said Elrond wisely.
"But they won't come to Imladris?" Lord Círdan asked in astonishment.
"No,' said Elrond. 'They insist on readying themselves for war although they assure us that they will join us when the time comes,"
Yet as Elrond spoke, Jon felt a great shadow had fallen upon the Elves of the wood. 'It seems a dark gate may away them yet.' Jon thought gloomily.
While King Gil-galad shook his head, surely exasperated by the stubbornness of both monarchs to avoid cooperating with the Noldor as much as possible.
"Those two are fools, but there is little we can do save hope they shall answer when the time comes," said Gil-galad vexedly.
"I share your sentiment, my friend. But, alas, that is beyond our power; perhaps we should take stock of our men and provisions," said Elendil glancing at his grandson and Rhaella, who brought forth several hefty leather-bound tomes.
"What's that?" Loras asked, horrified by so much paperwork, no doubt remembering his time as Commander of the guard.
"They are the count of men, horses, weapons, armour and provisions of the soldiers who came from Arnor with us," Jon's grandmother said amusedly as she saw the expressions of the young Tyrell.
"According to these books, a quarter of our men only bear good ring mail, good swords and stout shields; we've only twenty thousand horses as well, counting ours, of course," Prince Elendur said pragmatically.
"In other words, we are not prepared for war even if we have organised", Robar sighed.
"Yes, that's a good way to sum up, our situation," Isildur's son said.
"And also, most of the soldiers are very green with no experience," Loras said.
"Fortunately, our soldiers aren't lacking for experience though we are fewer in number, and it has been many long years since we marched to war", Lord Glorfindel admitted sadly.
"Then our first priority will be to arm all the soldiers of our host in the fashion of our forebears," King Elendil said.
"It seems so; however, I must confess here in Imladris, we do not have enough materials to make enough weapons for such a large army, so it will be imperative to contact King Durin to get materials such as steel and iron..." said Lord Elrond and all nodded in agreement.
"Also, the number of horses will be a problem; most of the army will be infantry; we shall have to look to the men of Rhovanion to make up the difference," Glorfindel said, eyeing the maps with great interest.
"We can solve that at another time... The most important thing now is the weapons and the training of the soldiers..." King Gil-galad said.
"We have talented blacksmiths both here in Imladris and those who have come with us, and although it will be a long task to arm such a host, I feel it best we prepare as best we can," King Elendil said, glancing at him intently and Jon felt honoured by the trust his King had for him.
'It is trust well earned, my dearest wolf; our armies are fortunate to have such a smith in our ranks', Galadriel said merrily, and Jon was filled with pride.
'I thank you for your faith in me, my dearest star.' Jon answered.
"Another noteworthy issue to discuss is the number of soldiers in Imladris at the moment," Nestor said, drawing the council's attention.
"Speak clearly, Nestor", said Elrond sagely.
"My Lord Elrond, I know the importance of this war, but Imladris cannot hold so many; the fortress is too small... Many will sleep in the wild; we need to expand our halls and walls... As well as strengthen our defences should the enemy be bold enough to attack us unawares," Said Nestor bringing forth the plans he had made for the defences of the Last Homely House.
"It seems to me that it would be prudent to heed Lord Nestor's guidance and not neglect the defences of this bastion both for the safety of our troops and our people," Galadriel said suddenly, and others nodded in agreement.
'What are you up to, Galadriel?' Jon questioned nervously, but she merely giggled, and he at once knew her scheme.
She wished to take revenge for hiding Elendil's book, but before he could escape her vengeance, Lord Elrond offered his voice to the council.
"If the Lady of Belfalas believes it best, it will be wise to heed her word, and I believe it will be the best for Imladris and those of us who are sheltered here…" Lord Elrond said, who couldn't help but give a quick glance at his wife who turned away.
"And we have a great architect and builder among us…." Isildur said proudly, looking at him while Loras and Robar suddenly looked at each other and smiled.
"It's true; our brother-in-arms is not only a talented armourer and jeweller but also a great builder", Robar seconded loudly.
"The words of your son Isildur and Robar are very true, my King; Jon is wholly suited for this task," Loras said, delighting in his brothers' torment.
"I know Jon's skill with weapons and jewels, but I did not know that his skill with rock work would be held in such high esteem by you, my son," King Elendil said, stroking his beard.
"Aye, if uncle Anárion were here, he would say much the same; thanks to the skill and knowledge of Prince Jon, Osgiliath has become the grandest City of the Dúnedain in Middle Earth," Elendur said with serenity.
"In that case… do you agree, Jon? Although I would like that you attend the forges with Lord Elrond's blacksmiths, it seems that your talents are needed elsewhere…." King Elendil said, glancing at him, and he nodded.
"Yes, if it is the will of the council, I shall see it done", Jon replied, bowing low, although he was displeased, for these labours would be long and difficult.
In the same way, Jon was already beginning to plot revenge against his brothers in arms and his beloved Estrella.
'Oh, my sweet wolf, you brought this misfortune upon yourself; perhaps your weariness shall wisen you to not keep such things from me.' Galadriel said softly, but he felt the contentment of her spirit.
'I won't forget this, my Star; you can be certain even if I have to wait centuries, I shall repay this slight', Jon swore bitterly, but he was answered only by laughter.
'If you're certain, I will use my time to enjoy an interesting book I found among your maps of Gondor, my beloved fool', Galadriel said wickedly.
'My book!' Jon groaned in horror.
'Perhaps you have learned I am not one to be trifled with? Again, I have to clean up your mess… And inform Shiera of this book; I'm sure what she will be most pleased to learn you kept it from her,' Galadriel chortled.
'I've already learned a lesson; I won't keep any more secrets from you, my love… Jon promised sadly.
'I hope so, my Beloved Wolf, because if not, I shall pursue you to the boarders of Arda and beyond; you are mine you have been, since you proclaimed your eternal love, under the stars of Varda in this same Valley more than half a century ago, and it is not right that couples keep secrets' said Galadriel lovingly though her words bore the weight of centuries.
'Well, I'll have to ask Lalwen and Dany to attend with their healing touch… Jon said with satisfaction sensing Galadriel's surprise and jealousy.
'What did you say, my Wolf?' She growled.
'Yes, thanks to your machinations, my beloved, I shall toil many days and nights to see this Valley safe. But, alas, my body and spirit shall be wearied beyond measure, and none may soothe it so keenly as my beloved aunt and Lalwen. It seems your plots benefit me as well, my Star,' Jon replied merrily.
'You haven't learned your lesson yet, my Wolf… Have you?' Galadriel asked furiously.
'No, I won't keep any secrets from you again, my beloved Star; you made sure of it, but it seems that you haven't learned the lesson you ought to have during our time in the East.' Jon said proudly.
'And what lesson is that, Jon?' Galadriel asked warily.
'YOU ARE MINE, MY STAR!' Jon growled, his voice sufficed with love unbridled, and Galadriel swiftly reddened.
'My Wolf!' Galadriel said lustily, yet their moment was ruined as she felt a sharp pain from Jon's mind; it seemed her beloved's had his foot trampled.
Jon glowered at Robar furiously as he was the only one who might have done it, but his brother-in-arms shrugged and pointed towards his grandmother.
His grandmother didn't possess magic like he did, but she knew him well enough to know when he spoke through his will.
She was gazing at him, her eyes alight with jealousy and then swiftly turned away.
All Targaryen women were jealous and possessive of what they considered theirs, and his grandmother was no different.
'Okay, it will be better to wait to avoid problems, my Star…' Jon said, and Galadriel nodded, amused by Rhaella's audacity.
The Council of War lasted little more than an hour until, in the end, everyone felt that everything that was in hand at that time had been done and planned, and they were invited by Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían to a great breakfast.
As they rose and made ready to leave the council hall, they were stopped at the doorway by Lord Elrond, who seemed quite pleased.
"Jon, Lady Galadriel, Queen Rhaella, wait a moment, please…." Eärendil's son said stopping them.
"Do you wish something of me, my Lord?" Jon asked, and the Lord of Imladris nodded.
"Indeed, I was wondering if you could accompany me to a secluded place?... There is something I want to show you, and I desire to speak in private... It won't take long, I promise," Elrond said sagely.
Jon looked at his grandmother and his Star for their approval, and after a few moments, they both nodded.
"Don't be long, Jon", his grandmother sighed, no doubt wishing to spend more time with him.
Galadriel was much the same as she wondered why her son-in-law wished to speak to Jon alone.
'You better tell me what you and Elrond speak of my Wolf', Galadriel said warningly.
'Yes, my Star, I shall keep nothing from you again', Jon answered sadly, and he could hear the melodious laughter of his beloved in his mind.
'Well, in that case, after breakfast, I'll start reading Elendil's book. But your grandmother is right, don't tarry; my aunt wishes to pamper you with strawberry tarts...' Galadriel said, and he felt nought but joy and hunger at the thought of those delicious tarts.
I promise I shall be swift,' He promised before bidding his family farewell and following after Lord Elrond.
He tarried behind the Lord of Rivendell, admiring the beauty of Imladris before they came to a flight of stairs that he hadn't remembered being here on his previous visits.
'These stairs weren't here before,' Jon thought; ascending the stairs, they came to a great chamber filled with many statues and tapestries.
"Here it is... The Hall of Memories," Lord Elrond said, extending his arms, and Jon could see why it was called that...
One of the statues held in its outstretched hands the brazier of Maltagil that he had forged for Lord Elrond decades ago with the fire of Vhagar still burning merrily and bright; another bore the sceptre of Turgon that he retrieved many years past in distant Dorwinion, and finally, there was a mural of a beautiful Elf Lord clad in fair raiment's leading his kin into battle.
"It is King Finrod Felagund when he led his troops in the Dagor Bragollach, he is the brother of Lady Galadriel, and the only other save Glorfindel who was absolved from the Curse of Mandos, now according to the stories his father is walking, under the trees of Eldamar," Elrond said noticing his interest in the mural.
'He is the brother of my beloved Star, ' Jon thought, marvelling at the majesty of the most beloved son of Finwë.
"I have never been in this Hall, Lord Elrond", Jon said confusedly, he thought perhaps he had missed it during his stays here, but that could not be the case.
"No wonder I had this Hall built for you; since the King of Arda called you to Middle Earth, many relics and knowledge from the Elder Days have resurfaced, and most of them have returned to our hands; that is why I ordered this chamber built so that we may not forget our traditions," Lord Elrond said proudly.
"Thank you, Lord Elrond", Jon said sadly, and the Lord of Imladris laughed.
"No, thanks to you, Jon, if it wasn't for you, this Hall wouldn't even exist, I had the idea of building it after Lady Galadriel delivered me my Great-grandfather's sceptre and you gave me the books of the great blacksmith Enerdhil, thanks to for this I have felt closer to my father's family than I have felt in all my long life… That is why I summoned you here, to thank you," Lord Elrond said, bowing low.
"You need not thank me, Lord Elrond, for you have given me much chiefly Lòmerocco," Jon said, grateful for the mighty gift Elrond had given him.
"It was a pleasure… That horse came here as a little foal from the Anduin Valleys. He was brought by some emissaries of King Amdír along with several of his brothers as a gift… For many years he dwelt in my stables, and he would take no rider, not even myself; often times he would run free through the Valley, and none could catch save if he desired it," said Elrond looking at him, half puzzled and half amused.
"And he allowed me to tame him? Me?" Jon asked, intrigued.
"That horse is mysterious and difficult to handle, but it is of a noble lineage... Noticing his refusal to accept riders, I sent emissaries to Lorien regarding the horse, and they apprised me he was of the house of Nahar," Lord Elrond said with a sigh as Jon stepped back in surprise.
Nahar was the legendary horse ridden by Oromë, the Huntsman of the Valar. Nahar's coat was said to be white under the Sun but to shimmer in silver in the night, and his feet were shod in gold.
Jon recalled that Lalwen and Galadriel, the fire that was stricken from the hooves of Nahar was the first light that returned to Valinor.
"My steed descends from the mount of the Hunter of the Valar..." Jon whispered in wonderment; he hadn't thought his steed would be of such high linage.
As Lord Elrond nodded and smiled. "Yes, according to the legend in the Valleys of Anduin, Nahar sometimes visited the mortal mares and left them with many foals,"
"Well, Lòmerocco has courted Galadriel's mare on several occasions," Jon said, amused when he realised the similarities between his horse and himself.
"Yes, I noticed it too… Your horse makes no secret of its intentions, your horse's true parentage is a secret here in Imladris as only King Gil-galad knows of his lineage, and even he was dismayed when the horse chose you as its rider… "said Elrond recalling the bitterness of his King because he longed to have the descendant of Nahar as a mount, but the horse chose Jon.
"King Gil-galad desired Lòmerocco for himself?" Jon asked, discerning Elrond's emotions to the latter's wonder.
"I see that now you read hearts and minds better," Elrond said, eyeing him in mirth.
"Forgive me. I hadn't thought to intrude," Jon apologised with a bow.
"Yes, I shall forgive and answer your question; my King hoped to claim that horse, but he chose you and you him though you hadn't met him yet," Elrond said as Jon looked at him confused.
"What does it mean?" Jon asked carefully.
"When you and Lady Galadriel went to Dorwinion following Elendil's will, there was a moment before her departure when you visited the stables; it was only a moment, but the stable keeper noticed that Lòmerocco was watching you, and when you walked away, he tried to follow you, that was strange, and much later when I gave him to you it was in part to make certain what they had told me was true... And if it was, you did not tame that horse... Rather he chose you as his rider for some reason we don't understand yet… You are blessed, no doubt," Lord Elrond said solemnly, and Jon nodded.
"Not even King Elendil and his sons know of Lòmerocco's true nature?" Jon asked, even though he already imagined he knew the answer.
"No, unless Celebrían reveals it. I don't think even her mother and great aunt know, though it is not a secret that need be kept; you may tell them if you wish," Lord Elrond said.
"How could this horse get to Imladris? I can't believe someone would part with such a prize," Jon asked, confused.
"I agree; perhaps Amdír thought it a gift for Celebrían as she and her mother lived for a time in Lorien before the Fall of Eregion, where they were both held in high esteem by the Silvan Elves, but seldom could I glean the King of Lorien's intentions" Lord Elrond assured.
"Very well, thank you, Lord Elrond, for revealing this truth to me; I feel honoured for having entrusted me with such a noble companion", said Jon before bowing low.
"Think little of it, Jon. I owe you a far greater debt, for you have returned to us the books of Enerdhil and much more; my smiths have been beside themselves in joy and laboured greatly desiring to learn the arts of Aulë," Elrond said, and Jon laughed.
"I have no doubt those books are a great source of wisdom... though I must ask have you found any use for Dragons fire?" Jon asked, glancing at the brazier, and Lord Elrond sighed.
"Only that fire is a source of magic capable of enriching the abilities of those who use it, granting them the ability to use magic even without possessing it naturally, similar to Rings of Power… Like this one," Lord Elrond said, revealing upon his finger was a ring of gold with a great blue stone.
Jon instantly recognised it from his first lessons from Lord Círdan; Vilya, one of the Rings wrought by Celebrimbor in Eregion, also called the Sapphire Ring, the Air Ring or the Blue Ring. Vilya is the mightiest of the Three Rings of the Elves, originally given to King Gil-galad, but it seems the great King thought his herald the worthier wielder.
"Vilya, the Ring of Air, one of the Three Rings… And, like the other two, it has the power to prevent decay through the effect of time and postpone the weariness of the world, although the time has not come to use it," Elrond said wearily as if the mere fact of possessing such an artefact was exhausting.
"The bearers of the Three Rings are in Rivendell…." Jon acknowledged with fear if Sauron knew of their location, all would be lost.
"Do not allow fear into your heart, Jon; although your fears are reasonable, Sauron still can't attack us here; we'll be safe," Elrond said quickly, stowing his ring away.
"My Lord has entrusted me with a great secret, and I will not break that trust… I swear on my honour," Jon said, bowing and Elrond nodded with a smile.
"I know, I trust you, my distant kin; that is why I revealed Vilya to you... Now, back to your question regarding dragon fire... It certainly burns truer than common flame; I haven't dared to bring my ring nearer, also although I can clearly perceive the magic emanating from those flames, I cannot control it without suffering hurt myself as I do not possess the Valyrian magic that makes you and Princess Daenerys immune to fire" said the Lord of Imladris revealing his right arm where Jon could see to his horror an almost completely healed burn.
"Nevertheless, using all my willpower to ignore the heat of the flames, I managed on one occasion to use a bit of your dragon's fire to enhance my foresight... They became more powerful, even greater than Círdan's own, though that was a mere pittance; I haven't used Dragon fire since then, nor do I think I will ever do so except out of fierce need as it seems as if the Most High deemed your kin the only ones worthy of taming Dragons" Lord Elrond said sadly as if the mere memory hurt him.
"I understand, my Lord, I understand better than you imagine… It will be better to change the subject," Jon said with a sad smile, and Lord Elrond nodded.
"Or I have a better idea; let's join the others in the dining room, I'm famished, and I'm sure you are too," The Lord of Imladris said kindly, and Jon nodded.
The talk of Lòmerocco, Vilya, and Vhagar's fire had made Jon forget how hungry he was, and he followed Elrond through the halls and gardens again.
"Jon, I have a request… though I beg your pardon as it is one that might seem foolish," The son Eärendil said with some embarrassment.
"Yes?" Jon wondered curiously at the expression on the usually serene and impassive face of the Lord of Imladris.
"The silver crown Lady Galadriel wears is one of your creations, is it not?" Lord Elrond asked, and Jon nodded.
"Well, my wife Celebrían has been completely enchanted by your work and has begged me to beg a silver crown similar to her mother's…." Lord Elrond said, his countenance reddening in embarrassment.
"It will be a pleasure, my Lord, to forge a crown for your wife, although I hope that this will not arouse the ire of your Artisans according to Lady Galadriel, she, nor my beloved, have requested your artisans to make jewellery for them in a long time." Jon said with a smile while Lord Elrond smiled amused.
"We'll see Jon because I'm afraid my blacksmiths enjoy indulging Celebrían's whims…." Lord Elrond said as Jon sighed as they both walked towards the dining room, with Jon eager to taste Lalwen's delicious strawberry tarts.
His beloved sunflower would never pass up an opportunity to spend time with him, and if she hasn't seen him since they arrived in Imladris, Jon is sure it's because Lalwen is preparing a surprise for him.
Westeros (Winterfell)
In her life, Val had heard some things about Winterfell, and although she did not always pay attention to them, sometimes her curiosity was triggered, and she discreetly listened to the stories of the few explorers who returned to their homes, the last of which was Mance himself.
Stories are one thing but seeing it with your own eyes… Val could hardly believe that something like this could be built by human hands, and seeing the Castle and the town outside of it, she felt bitter envy against those kneelers while her people barely had what was necessary to subsist and even had to dig holes sometimes to keep out the cold while the luckier ones had flimsy wooden houses that gave no real warmth,
the southerners lived comfortably in stone houses.
'Although now I have a chance to live better even if I have to put up with the kneelers and their customs, and that's something considering that I almost killed some crows when I was trying to escape from the Wall, ' Val thought bitterly resigned as she listened to her nephew wail loudly.
It was night, and heavy snowfall in Wintertown turned the landscape into a frozen wasteland, albeit a pretty one compared to those North of the Wall; luckily, she and some of her people were under a stone roof with fires keeping away the cold, all while Val was currently cradling her nephew hoping to soothe his sadness.
Her beloved sister Dalla had died a few days ago… exhaustion due to childbirth as she was called by the one they called Maester, a chubby man and somewhat cowardly, however intelligent, so Val could not help but accept that he was right.
Dalla's labour began just as her army was defeated by a now-dead Southern King if what she heard was right.
One night after they had been allowed passage over the Wall, they were taken to the Castle of Winterfell; whether to die or accept servitude, they had a little inkling, but there was little they could do.
Once there, believing they had power over their people, they were taken inside the Castle, where they walked through the vast corridors. She was enamoured of the place, noticing how the Castle seemed to be hot even without fire; however, she and Dalla came to a hall where there were many fierce-looking men, at first, they looked at them with revulsion and anger, but then they looked at her with lust and desire, something she was used to.
However, she was surprised when she realised that the one who directed all those men was apparently Benjen Stark's little nephew, a boy named Rickon, although he did not look like him because the little brat had a sullen appearance and was also red-haired according to what had been said. She found out that he had an older brother who was a cripple; although many on the Wall claimed that he was some sorcerer, Val did not have time to think about it anymore because he discovered that a red-haired and haughty woman was the one who really ruled there, the mother of the child or as Val was forced to call her… Lady Catelyn Stark, Dowager Lady of Winterfell.
But by the Old Gods, Val hated that cocky, pushy bitch…
From the first moment, that despicable red-haired witch treated them both like rubbish with the excuse that they should be thankful they weren't locked in a dungeon or executed. Finally, however, they reached an agreement where their people could settle on the outskirts of Winterfell, occupying the mostly deserted town in exchange for serving as guards for the North, almost abandoned by its wars and working the land till Spring came.
So hungry, tired, and with their best fighters on the Wall, they all agreed to the terms, hoping to start a new life away from whatever had wiped out the Others.
Sometimes Val and her friend Ygritte were taken to the Castle where they could watch various soldiers train, such as a supposed Knight with golden hair who had but one hand and from what Val and Ygritte had seen, he was not doing well as the other soldiers laughed at him whenever he missed, or the sword fell from his hand.
Another of the soldiers training was a skinny boy with fine, straight hair and a thin neck who sometimes trained Benjen Stark's nephew by practising with a stick, always under the watchful eye of the largest woman Val had ever seen.
The kneelers called her Brienne of Tarth, and she was so muscular and stocky that even some of the Free Folk youths who went with them tried to steal her many times to found a new clan. Still, the woman was mighty and killed or castrated any foolhardy enough to try claiming her, but all that only made her more desirable as they all wished for children as strong and sturdy as her, and when she discovered their intentions, Brienne was half furious, half embarrassed, much to their amusement.
But among all the men of the Free Town, none wanted her more than the idiot Tormund Giantsbane who looked at her with undisguised lust when he saw her train with the soldiers or she went out to the Town alone to later tell others about a night in the village tavern she stared back at him, swearing that the Old Gods had punished stupidity in failing to recognise what a great treasure Brienne was for the mighty children she could sire.
While thinking about all that, her nephew finally calmed down and fell asleep when Val laid him down and covered the little bundle with warm sheets.
'At least he still has his father', Val thought, saddened to remember her sister's death.
Yes, Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall, was still alive; she and Dalla had mourned Mance's death when they saw him burn by order of the one whom the Kneelers called King, but seemingly the witch The red that accompanied him and her god of fire had their own purposes, and although they did not know what they were, they involved Mance.
And although she distrusts the red witch, Val had to admit that this is a good magic trick to make Mance appear as Rattleshirt, unfortunately, it did not serve to give her sister joy since Mance cannot reveal himself to others for fear of being discovered, her people were many things, but tight-lipped was not among them.
But despite all this. Val had her family, and she had never been happier until Dalla perished of fever; Mance succumbed to grief, often spending his time hunting, or drowning his sorrows in ale. Val does not blame him for hiding his pain, but if he continues like this, sooner or later, they will find out who he really is, and Mance will be killed, leaving her and her nephew alone in the world.
At that moment, the door burst open, and a blizzard entered, extinguishing the little fire that Val had managed to light; at first, she thought it was Mance, but then she realised that he was much shorter and had a shock of red hair.
"Ygritte…" Val growled angrily, covering her nephew with her body as her friend closed the door.
"Damn… I'm finally done with my job tending the stables in that damn Castle…." Ygritte cursed, and Val glared.
"I'm warning you if he wakes up, you'll take care of him..." Val threatened with a frown, and Ygritte glared at the small bundle.
"Fine, I'll keep my voice down..." Ygritte promised, averting her gaze.
"What are you doing here?" Val asked, stoking the fire, hoping the embers would roar to life again.
"I came to see how you were… Ever since your sister died, you've been alone," she said gently though Val glowered at her.
'I have a warm home, and it's not that hard to find food on this side of the Wall... I've even started to learn how to read and write thanks to the Maester," Val said, and Ygritte snorted.
"What?" Val asked, annoyed by her friend's mockery.
"Nothing, just now, you almost look like a Southern Lady…." The red-headed idiot said, and Val sighed.
"I just want to have the best possible life. I don't want to be one of those ridiculous Ladies in dresses", Val growled, looking at his sister's son.
"I know... I merely jape, I had a terrible day; I heard that the damn red-haired witch and her son are returning from the South today and the Kneelers are in a panic to make everything ready, it's not what I expected when I decided to come here" said Ygritte furious to work for others.
"I don't know, we have stone houses with fire and food, that's enough... So, for now, I have no intention of kneeling before anyone, but our people are weary, hungry and our best fighters are on the Wall..." Val said matter-of-factly, sitting down on a chair.
"For me, they can stay there, like Sixskins. I still remember that he wanted to tame us like his beasts..." Ygritte said with rancour, and Val growled at the twisted lustful man.
"That's true, but we are more vulnerable too... So, we must be careful and learn about the kneelers' lands," Val said, and Ygritte laughed.
"You sound like Mance..." The redhead acknowledged, and Val laughed too before hitting her on the head.
A month after that talk, Val was finishing gathering firewood one morning for his home when he could see in the distance a pile of rags with many emblems and men on horseback approaching.
"Banners?" Val wondered, confused as she remembered what kneelers call those rags and realised that the bloody red-haired witch Catelyn Stark must have returned to the North.
"Great... My peace is over," Val cursed, returning to her tiny house.
She was not mistaken; when all the knights arrived at the gates of Winterfell, Val and others from the Free Folk came to see what caused all the commotion.
And they weren't wrong because when that red-haired woman came out of her… Caravan? With the help of Brienne of Tarth, they dragged down another woman, only this one was in chains.
She was a woman with black hair, somewhat thin, mature and quite pretty because men already looked at her like a piece of meat that they wanted to sink their teeth into.
"Get on the ground, you damn whore..." Catelyn Stark bellowed before hitting the chained woman again, causing her to fall to the ground and covering her with mud, Catelyn looked at the crowd as if she were looking for her, and indeed it was so because upon seeing her, the red-headed bitch nodded in acknowledgement.
"Well, you're here..." Catelyn Stark said, looking at Val with hatred that, for the first time, she felt fearful though it seemed that the hatred was not meant for her; rather, the woman clapped in irons.
It was for the woman on the ground…
"Pick her up…." Catelyn barked once more before striking the woman across the face so hard it split her lip.
"Look, look at your new home, surrounded by savages… When Lord Tyrion told me about your participation in the Red Wedding, I understood why your brother was sent to the Wall, and I thought of keeping you in Winterfell in a dungeon with Walder Frey… But no, you don't deserve to even set foot in the halls of my son, the son you helped kill... Damn, ungrateful and treacherous snake, so I thought and thought, killing you is out of the question... You don't deserve the relief of death. But then, I remembered how they told me you were proud, arrogant and eager for riches and power... That's when I understood your punishment... Your punishment will be degradation..." Catelyn Stark said, looking at her with a sick smile.
"What?... What do you mean?" The fearful woman quivered.
"SILENCE WHORE!" Catelyn Stark yelled, now searching Val with her eyes.
"You! Wildling Princess, come here!" Catelyn barked, and Val was vexed, although it was more out of curiousness than fear.
"For the last time… Lady Catelyn, I am not a Princess,' Val said, peeved that she was mistaken for one of those insipid and silly women.
"That doesn't matter... I bring a gift to your people..." Catelyn Stark said, looking with pleasure as the woman's face filled with terror.
"Gift?... Don't make me laugh, that woman is very skinny, and her fingers are delicate, clearly, she never works, and she's already a little older... At most, she will only give birth to one or two children." Tormund laughed, walking towards them with a mug of ale and looking at the chained woman who was now gasping in horror.
"Maybe, maybe not... You will find out... I imagine that the prostitutes who decided to come here with you have been to your liking," Catelyn Stark said with disgust looking at the men to feel and laugh.
"What do you suggest?" Val asked curiously.
"Tell the whores that they have a new partner... A noblewoman, Sybil Spicer or Westerling, tell them that she will bring them great profits, but they should not give her any tea to prevent pregnancy," Catelyn Stark laughed as the women's face turned to one of horror.
"NO!... MERCY! MERCY!" The woman screamed, but Catelyn Stark hit her again.
"Did you have mercy on my son? You dirty traitor bitch… My son turned your daughter into a Queen, raising the precarious position of your miserable House… And you and your disgusting brother conspired to kill him when you should have kissed his feet for sparing you," Catelyn Stark said, spitting in her face.
"I did what I did for my family… Haven't you done something for yours? … You know what's wrong, but you know what's best?… Your son didn't stand a chance against Lord Tywin from the start, and you know… He put the pieces of his fall in order; my brother and I just ensured that my daughter Jeyne didn't bear him a child." The woman said, crying.
"But you knew what was going to happen, and you let us go to the Twins; you are as guilty as everyone else, but for your ingratitude, your punishment will be worse… So now you will live among the Wildlings as a broodmare… I was going to send you to the whores of Mole's town so that you were close to your brother Rolp, but that would have been counterproductive since both could conspire together again… So, you will stay here, devoid of your title and last name… You are just one more bitch" Catelyn said, getting into the caravan again.
"Damn you!... I HOPE YOUR SON BURNS IN THE SEVEN HELLS!... Since you escaped from them, I discovered you died in Walder Frey's house, witch... A demon brought you back to cause more pain and misery," Said that woman spitting blood at the caravan, and Catelyn knelt and looked at the woman with sickening joy like a lion playing with its kill.
"You are not mistaken… I was brought back to avenge my husband, son and daughters as well as to protect the two I have left and take revenge against you who brought us suffering… So, enjoy your new life as a whore and broodmare of the savages… I hope you are a better mother to them than to your daughter Jeyne" Catelyn Stark said with a sick smile as the chained woman was dragged away by free men.
"Let me go, animals!... Let me go! Don't you dare touch me!" Sybil screamed in rage.
"Now she's yours... Make her behave as you want, but I don't want her to die soon, to live a long-life bitching and giving birth," Catelyn Stark said, looking Val in the eyes, and after that, she returned to her caravan, and the doors of Winterfell opened allowing the procession to enter.
"What do we do with her?" Tormund asked, taking a sip from ale and watching the men fight for the right to "taste the woman.
"Don't ask me; I'm not interested... But they should do something with her, or those idiots will kill each other, and it's better not to let that woman escape if we don't have Catelyn Stark here yelling at us," Val said, returning home, listening as Tormund does his best to keep the rabble in line as they each wish to sample the southern fruit.