Author note: Sorry it's been over 100 days since I last updated. I've missed this story so much! Also this chapter was damn hard to write, as you may see. BUT it is SO IMPORTANT. I don't want to spoil it, just read it! Thank you Shetan20, RevanOrdo7567, Anne, Certh and jazellsparrow for your recent reviews, and everyone else for still following this story after such a long time. Hopefully the next instalment won't be so goddamn difficult to construct.
Book Two - Chapter Six - Past Is Future
Keren looked up at the Lady, who stood as still as her grandmother of stone.
"Many have stood before me in this place," Galadriel said. "All needing guidance, some bound to peril, some to grief. You, daughter of Orwen, are bound to neither of these things, and yet you have chosen them of your free will."
Keren found her tongue at the unexpected words, words she had heard before from Palen. They stung her spirit, from both human and elven lips.
"Lady, I did not choose for Faramir – "
"The Prince of Ithilien has much to do with why you are here," Galadriel interrupted. "His part is not yet over. But," – the Lady began her next sentence sternly as Keren went to speak again – "he is a small part of what we shall speak of tonight. Your grief is bound not only to him, the loss of the lord you so loved, but to the loss of your mother and, in a different way, the loss of your father. As for your peril," Galadriel went on, "that you have yet to see. By choosing the path you have – a path I admit I encouraged you to take – if all goes as I have foreseen, you will face both grief and peril before the tale is ended. And yet at the end… It would be such an end, Keren, that it will be remembered for Ages upon the earth. The path towards this end you are now upon, but as if walking along a precipice. If you find the thought of that too frightening it would not be wrong of you to return home, and thus forsake your current course. But it would mean I could not foresee, I could not help you with, your future, as I have been doing all your life, nay, even before it."
"You said I have free will," Keren said after a long silence. "But you also say whatever path I choose is, in fact, decided for me. I have a choice of fates. So how is that truly free will, picking which pre-ordained future I shall live to see?"
Galadriel smiled.
"That is a question I cannot answer, not because I do not choose to, but because I know not how to. For thousands of years I have been on this Middle-Earth, and upon the Undying Lands before that, to which I shall shortly return. In all those years I have felt the brush of many fates upon me, for myself and others, and some are passed by and some are taken up. But how do we know when a decision or circumstance is truly our will? We cannot know. Even the great and the wise do not see all. Even I," she said with a slightly raised eyebrow.
Keren was silent, waiting, frustrated at this turn of events. She had been hoping for truth and certainty, not guesswork.
"But of course, you want clear answers," Galadriel said. "And some of these I can provide. I do not see all, but I have seen much. I can tell you all I know of your past, and much else besides. And, if you wish, you can look into the mirror."
She gestured to the basin at her side, and Keren thought she saw a change in the light around it, as if the air itself was silver, less translucent. She felt a sudden urge to hand the crystal, now somehow clenched in her hand, to Galadriel.
"You feel drawn to the mirror," the elf said. "That is well. We shall begin with that."
Keren watched as the Lady silently filled the ewer from the gently flowing stream three times, each time depositing the contents into the bowl. Placing the ewer back upon the pedestal, she breathed lightly across the surface of the water. Keren gasped as the water lapped at the sides of the basin, with far more power than a human breath could produce. When it stilled, it looked chill and black.
"Many things I can command the mirror to reveal," Galadriel said, "and to some I can show what they desire to see. But the mirror will also show things unbidden, and those are often stranger and more profitable than things which we wish to behold. What you will see, if you leave the mirror free to work, I cannot tell. For it shows things that were, and things that are, and things that yet may be. But which it is that he sees, even the wisest cannot tell. Do you wish to look?"
"Yes," Keren whispered without hesitation, although she was not aware that she had said it until after she had spoken.
"Very well. Do not touch the water. And do not let the crystal you hold in your hand somehow fall in. It is better perhaps to put it away now."
Keren nodded, not understanding, but not wishing any harm to come to the stone she had kept safe for so long. She placed it back in the pouch hanging from her waist, and as she did so she thought she felt a wave of encouragement from it, as if pushing her to walk towards the dark water. Obeying, she slowly approached the stone basin, and, placing her hands on the rim, peered over to look into the black.
The water was unmoving, like a sheet of glass. Stars she saw, shining high and bright in a dark night sky, but no reflection of the tree canopy above her, and her own face was not peering back at her. Instead she stared into a void of light and dark, shimmering silvers and swirling blues and black. The moon she saw, and a bright, bright star very close, making it seem brighter than anything she had seen when she had ever looked up into the night sky. It sailed by, swiftly through the water, and the more Keren looked the more it seemed to her that it was not a star, but a ship, and the starlight was coming from a male figure stood at the prow, steering its course. Closer and closer he sailed, until she could see clearly a band of silver across his brow, in the centre of which was a light so bright she could not look directly at it. His face was in shadow, but she thought she saw the pointed ears and high cheekbones of an elf. The sails on the ship unfurled as he passed, until all the sky was blocked and all Keren could see was total darkness.
Unsure whether the vision was at an end she thought about looking away, but then a small star appeared, far away and winking. Then another, and another, getting nearer and nearer and brighter and brighter. Keren realised that they were not just appearing, but being formed, and the dark shape that had begun to appear in the centre of them was not a void, but the shape of a woman, who was throwing them out into the sky. Again, she could not clearly see the lady's face, but Keren felt as if this was a good thing, and that no-one should ever see the woman in this, her true form.
Keren felt as if she was being lifted up and forwards, until she was level with the star-lady. The shadowed face smiled, black hair whirling around her head, and suddenly Keren was not up in the sky, but still looking at the same face, now much smaller, within the clear walls of her crystal. The scene was frozen, and she saw herself in her green gown, standing on the balcony in the King's House. Before her was Faramir, holding the crystal up to the starlight with one hand, his face showing a look of being taken off guard. It was the night of the royal wedding.
No, she thought. I do not want to see this.
But the scene began to play out, and she watched as they talked, then argued, and kissed fiercely – for far briefer a time than she had thought – and she watched Faramir walk away and leave her alone.
A grey mist swirled around all, and there was Faramir again, but this time it was full sunlight. Hand in hand with Eowyn he stood, and they were surrounded by flowers and people cheering, and Keren was horrified to see the round curve of Eowyn's belly, her protective hand shielding her unborn baby, which the mirror seemed to cruelly draw Keren closer to until it filled her whole vision, and she could see a silver ring gleaming upon Eowyn's hand. But quickly it pulled her back, and the hand was Palen's, and the baby was Palen's, and the smiling man was Dannor.
The mist descended and suddenly there was her friend the elf, amongst a hoard of treasure. Keren could not think where this could be, as Legolas was having to climb up piles of gold and silver, and she did not think that such treasure could exist anywhere now.
But before she could try and make sense of what she was seeing the scene changed again, and now she was stood before the oak tree at Cormallen, where they had met by moonlight for the second time, except now it was the cold light of a spring dawn. Legolas was there as he had been before, but he was sat still, almost frozen, beneath the tree, his eyes staring at nothing, with only the cold fog of his breath indicating that he was alive. The fog grew denser and larger, until once again it filled the whole basin, and this time when it cleared she could see her own pale face reflected in the water, and tree branches above her, and Galadriel behind her shoulder.
She inhaled shakily, and let out her breath so that it made the water ripple lightly, then she turned and looked up at the elf.
"So, elf-friend," the Lady said quietly. "You have seen the magic, as you would call it, of the mirror of Galadriel. It is your choice to tell me what it is you saw or no. One scene only was brought to my eyes, for I am close to the Lady of the Stars."
Keren too another deep breath, and found her voice was shaking.
"You say things I do not understand," she said. "One that I have heard before. I would like to know what everything you just said means."
Galadriel nodded. "I am not the first to call you elf-friend, this I know. Legolas, your friend of the woodland realm, has grown close to you, but could tell even at your first meeting what you were, as any elf would be able to. Another kind of magic, I suppose you would say, but to us it is like seeing that your hair and eyes are brown. What did your friend tell you of elf-friends?"
"Not much." Keren replied. "Just that the new King is one, and he had an elf-name, Estel, which means Hope. And that there had been elf-friends for many years. But he… he was not very helpful." Keren tailed off awkwardly.
"You wish to know what you have done to deserve being addressed as such?" Galadriel said, smiling now. "He perhaps was not very helpful in that? I imagine you would like to hear the tale?"
"Yes, Lady." Keren felt breathless with anticipation. "…Please."
"Would you care to sit?" Galadriel gestured towards the low stone wall topped with smooth grass, beneath the steps.
Keren, sensing that the Lady was hinting that she may need to sit down, gratefully took the suggestion, but her body remained taught and tense as she waited for the story of her past.
"You have been in the care of Haldir," the Lady began, "and I know he has told you much of your mother and grandmother. You know of your namesake, Keren, and her journey from the North, and how she bore her child here, your mother."
Keren nodded.
"And you know your mother's name was Borneth, until I named her Orwen."
Another nod.
"When your mother was here, I came to care for her very much. She had been brought into our care in such a strange way, that I felt it could not be pure chance that your grandmother was found by my people, and that your grandmother died, and Orwen was left to us to raise. This was confirmed to me when your mother began to grow into adulthood. I wished for her to stay here, but a message came to me that she must leave, and enter her own world, that of Men. But it was not for her sake, Keren. It was so that she could bring about the daughter that she would bear."
"What message? From who?"
Galadriel smiled. "You saw her in the mirror. She has many names, and you are bound to have heard one of them, in lessons or tales told in your childhood. The lady of the stars, Elbereth Gilthoniel, Varda Kementari, Tintalle."
Keren frowned, then laughed, and for the first time was afraid the Lady was actually mad.
"Elbereth? She is not real. That – that is like saying I dined with Eru himself. They are figures from stories, from before time, just our explanation of how the world came to be."
A still sadness shadowed the Lady's face.
"That is all she and her kind have become to some, but those of us who walked the earth with them, we remember them, and know that they are as real as you or I. The Valar they are called, some would call them gods or messengers, but they were created, as once all men and elves were, from the same source. They are part of this world, the same as anything or anyone upon it. And whilst they are now almost always hidden from our sight, they sometimes make themselves known by thought, or strange workings of fate, or a sign of some kind. Such a thing occurred almost thirty years ago, when your mother was about to come of age. Elbereth brought a vision to me, of a girl-child, in a green gown, bearing a crystal of pure light. And I knew that, if she was brave enough, this child would have the strength to bring about something the world had never seen. What it was, this thing, was not revealed to me. But I was commanded to tell Orwen to leave, and to send her away with the things I saw in the vision. So I and my ladies sewed the green gown, and I took a crystal from my small trove, and I sent your mother away, with Haldir, to the Men of the South, to Gondor. But she feared the crystal, and would not take it with her.
There she met your father, and news was brought to us of a marriage and a daughter, your sister Palen. But something was wrong, and your mother returned. She did not feel a closeness to her child, nor did she understand the gifts I had offered her, for they had no use in the life of a carpenter's wife. She was despairing, but I was stern with her, for she had abandoned her child and her husband, and I – after a few weeks grace – I sent her back."
"You killed her," Keren whispered.
Galadriel appeared distressed, but Keren had not finished.
"She was breaking, and your rejection broke her, and by the time I was born she did not like living anymore. She stayed alive for me and Palen, but even we weren't enough. Now I understand, now I know she was pining for her life here, Haldir told me. And you sent her away, twice."
"I sent her with love Keren, I sent her away to bring you into the world, the prophesised child. Your mother was as a daughter to me, and I vowed that, even should we never meet again, she, and all her descendants, would be family. It is in your blood Keren, in your very matter, that you are a friend to my people. And Legolas Thranduilion recognised that the moment he set eyes on you. But he was, I am sure, confused, for no-one but me, my husband and the three marchwardens know the truth, and he could not guess why such an honour had been bestowed upon you, a humble child of a city of men, who claimed she had never even seen an elf. But now you are learning the tale, and when you meet again you will be able to explain what neither of you could."
Keren was about to ask if the Lady knew when she would see Legolas again, but Galadriel went on.
"Elbereth I have said is close to me, and that closeness passes with blood also. She watches over my grand-daughter, Queen Arwen, with love and sadness, for she knew from the moment of her birth where her path was leading. She watches over any I ask her to protect, great or small, warriors or babes. I wanted your mother to know her, to not fear her, to be able to ask for her help and guidance. So I chose Tinunil with particular care. Perhaps you would like to remove it from its place of protection. Hold it in your palm, and I believe you will know my tale to be true."
The crystal felt light as air in Keren's hand as she took it from the pouch held it tentatively, her hand resting on her knee.
"Long ago in the West," Galadriel began, "far beyond the western shores of Middle-Earth, the land of Aman was populated by my people, many thousands of us, and we dwelt alongside the Valar, who we feared and loved. And they loved, and sometimes feared, us in return. For after many years we grew greedy, and proud, and vain. The elves have always been pure of heart, and whenever we fight, we fight for good, but there were years of darkness, where we so loved finding, making, creating more, and yet more, that we began to desire power above almost all things, for there was no one to match us or challenge us, as Man had not yet awakened, and the Valar were few. The finest of all our craftsmen was Feanor, my father's half-brother. He was skilled beyond any, and created the three jewels I am sure your mother told you of, the Silmarils. One sails in the sky upon the brow of Earendil, our morning star. The other two are lost, one in the caverns of the earth, and one in the sea."
Keren nodded blankly, as Galadriel recounted one of her favourite childhood tales.
"Before Feanor made these, the greatest of all his works, he practised on lesser things, and crafted hundreds upon hundreds of smaller jewels. He and I were close, to begin with, before his skill drew him to madness. He made for me many jewels at my request, and Tinunil was one. But when this stone was handed to me, curved and shaped and smoothed, I knew something was wrong. A voice, as though inside me, told me to beware, to not heed the words of my uncle. But I was young, and enamoured of his skill, of which still there has been no comparison, so I ignored the strange voice, and I followed him, along with many of my people, to Middle-Earth, the land of our fore-fathers birth. The journey was… Many perished, not all by accident or misfortune, and it was with a heavy heart I landed upon this shore. I realised we were becoming a people of lust and cruelty, and from then I severed all connections with Feanor, and I dwelt with my kin in Doriath, where I met the Lord Celeborn. I kept Tinunil a secret for many hundreds of years, and it took me almost as long to realise whose voice was speaking to me through it. I found myself seeking it whenever I had moments of shame, or grief, or doubt, over my past, over my future, over who I was. And it was when I was at my lowest I heard her voice, sweet and clear, strange and yet familiar. Elbereth, my guide, and now yours. She does not concern herself with trifling matters, she speaks only when something of great import could be affected, so when she sent me the vision of you I knew it was this stone I saw you wielding, and knew it must go to you, via your mother. And now it sits there in your palm, and I know not if it will have any further purpose. Perhaps it has completed its task by bringing you here. Now tell me, Keren, have you heard the voice of Elbereth?"
Keren felt tears pricking at her eyes, for she was so overwhelmed, and she longed not to believe it, for it was too strange, too huge, too much for her to comprehend. But true it was, she felt it to be so, she knew it to be so. She again nodded, her head bowed, and two tears dropped from her eyes to fall on her lap. She felt a cool hand upon hers, and she looked up to see the Lady kneeling before her.
"You do not have to tell me what She has said to you, or if She has spoken more than once. You may wish, like I did, to keep it entirely secret. But I will warn you, it is hard to hide such things from elves, for we are attuned to any crystals that may have the power of speech."
"Legolas knows," Keren whispered. "I have not told him, but he knows. And Faramir, I showed him. They are the only ones that know it exists, but Legolas does not know what it is to me, he only guessed I had it. And I denied it."
"That was, perhaps, wise," the Lady said. "I am sure now that a time will come when you can share the tale with him. But the Prince of Ithilien, what did he say?"
"He did not believe me, I think. Who would? He thought me mad, I am sure of it." Keren shrugged uncomfortably.
"It was brave, yet rash, to speak of it to him, and yet you know in your heart he has a part to play in all this which is not yet over. None but I know anything of it, and I know far less than you, now, for I do not know what She has said to you. But I do know that Faramir has not left the tale yet, for good or ill. But do not be afraid, for now you know who is guiding you, and She does not allow people to stray or fall, unless they wish to. And so far you have not."
Keren sniffed, and it was such a human, such a normal, sound that she chuckled.
"But wait," she said, feeling brave. "Mithrandir, I think he knows something. I do not expect I shall ever see him again, but… And I feel foolish to think he could ever be interested in the doings of someone like me. I mean, he's a wizard."
"He is now, yes," Galadriel said. "And I know he senses something, but whether he knows what I cannot say. I feel he has been watching over his friend with concern. Perhaps he is just hopeful."
Then the Lady stood, and turned to face the stream gently rippling by, leaving Keren to wonder what she meant.
"There is one more thing we must speak of, before we part," Galadriel said, her back still turned to Keren, "a gift I would give."
Keren stood, and she was impressed her legs were not wobbling.
"My lady?"
Galadriel turned.
"When your mother reached adulthood, I gifted her with a new name, one for the world of Men she was to enter. You have reached your one-and-twentieth year, and I would like to give you a name that has been waiting for you. A name for the world of Elves. Would you like that?"
"It depends what the name is," Keren tried to joke, but then she took in what the Lady had said. "What do you mean, a name that has been waiting for me?"
"When your mother left us a second time, I persuaded her to take Tinunil, and that time – I know not whether your mother heard the voice of Elbereth, or simply felt it in her heart – she took it. The green gown was still in Minas Tirith waiting for her, waiting for you."
"Wait," Keren interrupted. "What is the gown for? I wore it when I was told to, and all it has brought me is misery."
"Has it?" Galadriel asked, instead of pushing for more explanation.
"Well, I, well, um," Keren stumbled around for words. "Perhaps not all the time."
Galadriel gave her a knowing smile.
"I also told her," the Lady went on, as if there had been no interruption, "to name the next girl-child she was to bear Keren, after the mother she had never met. But I confess, although she took pleasure in the idea, I had my own motives. I apologise Keren, for seeming as if I have dictated from afar how your life would be formed, but I was simply following guidance from even further away. I still do not know to what purpose – that must only be for you to find out. In my vision, the child had a name, you Keren, had a name, that could easily be disguised as that of your grandmother's. From now on, you may use it if you wish, for you have found your past, and you remember what I told you back in Minas Tirith – your past is your future. Now you are ready to find your future, Ciraen, daughter of Orwen, beloved of Elbereth."
Author note: BOOM. I sincerely hope all those revelations were worth the wait. x