Chapter Eleven: Cross Purposes
Year 51 of the first Age, Hithlum
It had been agreed in Doriath that the wedding would be in four years – hopefully enough for Galadriel to say goodbye to the northern lands at least a little decently – and that she would make another visit to Thousand Caves in the meantime. Given that she would be moving there, the wedding was to take place in Hithlum, so that Celeborn saw it at least once before he married her and also to allow her a proper, celebratory farewell.
Ñolofinwë offered his own house for the wedding, and so did Findekáno and Ingoldo, but after all due consideration, Galadriel choose her own home. She would miss it dearly, and it was made precisely according to her wishes – so what more perfect place could she possibly wish for?
In view of such early departure of her dearest friend, Itarillë for once overcame her distaste of abandoning her father and moved to Galadriel's house for the remainder of the time she had in the North. They talked for long hours and sang together, but were often disturbed, as the bride's brothers, Findekáno and the king himself now came over much more frequently than what had been usual, with the knowledge that one of their dearest would soon be taken from them.
On one such visit, the king stood on the terrace of Nerwen's house with his niece, and taking her hands, he said: "I am afraid."
Such words were not heard often form the High King of Noldor, so she turned her surprised eyes to him and asked: "Of what?"
"Of staying in the North without your advice. I have come to rely on you, more than I perhaps realized. The times are peaceful now, but it will not last, and I fear the time will come when you will be more sorely missed than I can imagine."
"You know I am always just a thought away, uncle," she muttered.
"And you know it is not the same as talking in person, or you would not mourn your departure," he replied with a small and not very cheerful smile. "I can convey the basic news, and you can perhaps send me your thoughts on what, roughly, should be done in return, but for when we need to discuss things in detail...not even husband and wife are quite close enough to achieve that with thought-sharing, usually, let alone the two of us."
"If you have need of me, you have but to call," she tried to reassure.
"And if I have always need of you?" Her uncle asked.
She closed her eyes, and he sighed and turned his head away. "No," he said, "I apologize. I do not want to give my own burdens to you. You deserve happiness."
"Should I have asked Celeborn to move here?" She enquired.
Ñolofinwë shook his head. "You are respected and cherished in Doriath, but he would not be quite so much so here. He would not be happy, and it could destroy your marriage. Do not forget that you were going to the forest kingdom regularly even before you met him. The place has some consolation for you apart from him; he would have none here."
"Do you believe he would not learn to love it here?" Hithlum was not as beautiful as Doriath, it was true, but it had its own harsh beauty. And the mountains were a sight.
"I do not know him, but I think growing up in the peace and bliss of Doriath, it would be hard for him to adjust. By all means, come as often as you can after you marry, and perhaps you will find that he loves the Noldorin lands – but do not hold out too much hope."
Nerwen sighed. "When I first felt something for him, I believed it was a test from the One – could I let go of my pride and my desire for power to follow the love he offered me? Now, I feel like I am betraying my people."
"Never think that," Ñolofinwë said sharply. "If nothing else, those same people respect you and go to you for advice and help, but none of them would choose you as their ruler, their queen."
She raised her eyes to him: "Is my bitterness so easy to spot?" She asked.
"My child, do not forget that you talked to me of your desires for a kingdom of your own long before we left Aman. And I am still wise enough to see that you would be at least as good a ruler as I am. But hearts of Elves are their own, and they are not ready to follow a nis. I can see the injustice of it as clearly as you can."
Galadriel refrained from pointing out how hypocritical that was of her Uncle, and instead, said: "I am the youngest child of a youngest brother. It would not have been different had I been a ner."
"Yet all of your brothers have households of their own, do they not?"
Nerwen stared at him. She did not wish to argue, not now, but this was truly too much. "Because you granted them lands, while you granted none to me!" She said, with some force.
It was his turn to stare. "You are well aware that it is the other way round! Because they each had a following, I granted them lands."
"You told me that there was simply no room for me, that there was not enough space, because they all needed to have their share, including the sons of Fëanáro!"
"Beloved, did you really think it was because I thought you were less deserving of them?" He asked in shock. "No. Never. It was because I knew not enough elves would be willing to follow you there, and we cannot afford to have lands unprotected in this dangerous world."
Galadriel looked into his eyes and saw only truth in them, and the assumptions of the last half a century fell into ruins around her. She blinked to hold back tears, and embraced him fiercely, suddenly bitterly ashamed of ever believing such a thing of her most beloved uncle. "I am sorry for misjudging you," she muttered in a choked voice, "but why did you not tell me? You only spoke about not having enough lands at out disposal..."
"Because we do not!" He replied, pulling back a little to look her in the eyes. "If Elwë had allowed us some well-protected area inlands, I would have given it to you without hesitation. And I would have given you land if there were no other noble princes the people could follow. But as it was...I knew each of them had their following, as least a small one, and so had to be given some lands. You, on the other hand, did not, and so I could not give you precedence over them, as much as I wished to..."
Galadriel exhaled, a breath she seemed to had been holding for fifty years of the Sun, flooded with relief. "It had seemed so unfair to me, when I remembered all those talks and I thought, how could he forget about me?" She said, the tears threatening to overflow again.
"I never could, beloved. How could you even think so? It never occurred to me...did you not see my mind?"
Nerwen closed her eyes, the shame mounting, taking over the relief. "I think...I think bitterness and anger clouded my sight – precisely the failure I am so apt to scold others for!"
He tightened the embrace once again. "Do not be so hard on yourself," he said. "It was the one thing you have always wanted, escaping you once again. You had some reason to be angry."
"Perhaps. That does not mean I should not have acted more reasonably."
He knew better than to argue with her. They stood there in silence for some time, then he returned to their previous topic of conversation. "Do not feel guilty abound abandoning these people," he said, "but do not feel bitter towards them either, and do not forget them."
"I never could," she returned.
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Ingoldo had been rather lacking in his usual calm during his talks to Nerwen ever since Lord Ulmo had visited him in a dream, and so she took him with her when she returned to Doriath. It was a good thing he got on so well with Elwë, really, because she had no time for anyone but Celeborn. Lúthien had been a little disappointed that Galadriel would not accompany her to see that beautiful cluster of niphredil that grew close to where Esgalduin joined Sirion, but seemed to have more understanding for the Flame than she had for other reasons Nerwen normally offered when she did not feel like accompanying the Sindarin princess, and simply wished her enjoyment with a smile before she departed herself. Lady Melian, of course, was entirely full of understanding and noted that they would have all the time they wanted to be together soon enough. But Aikanáro, who always found himself bored quite soon when they visited Doriath, would have minded, and Nerwen was happy Ingoldo did not.
It was, however, also why she was caught completely by surprise one day when her brother found her in the halls of Thousand Caves – it was late evening and she had just returned form another long walk among the trees with Celeborn – and said: "I am going to build a city like this."
"What?" His sister said, rather undignified.
"I have had a desire to build some well fortified city for quite some time now," he replied, taking her hand and leading her to his chambers, "ever since that dream."
"Yes, I know," she nodded. She thought it a very sound idea – the peace could not last, as she had been telling everyone in the Noldorin councils for years now, without any visible effect. "But why a city like this one?"
"Because it is perfect for defence!" Ingoldo said with enthusiasm. "A city hidden in caves – you cannot come in by any other way than by the door, and that can easily be well guarded, and we can make the admission road difficult as well – no bridge like here. I mean, Elwë can afford it, he has Queen Melian's protection around his entire realm, but without it, we have to make it more difficult...to prepare for harder times..." They reached the door to his rooms and he paused as he opened it. Once they were inside, he headed to the chairs by the fireplace and continued: "I mentioned my general plans to our great-uncle, and he gave me leave to settle in Beleriand and recommended me an area not far from here. Because I have another reason for this, my dear sister, one that I have not told you of: I want to be at hand for you."
Galadriel walked to where he sat and stood above him, pressing his hand, trying to ignore the bitterness she felt at her brother having leave to settle in a place which would have ensured she could have a realm of her own, had it been offered to her. To Ingoldo, it would be just a nicer place to rule. To her, it would have been everything. Aloud, she only said: "Tol Sirion is not far from here."
He shook his head and tugged at her hand to make her sit. "It is not simply about distance. It is a long way through unprotected lands to Tol Sirion – remember that Brethil is not included in the Girdle of Melian. I want to have a realm that will share borders with Doriath, so that when you come to visit me, you can do so in complete safety, and alone if you wish to."
Nerwen was simultaneously touched and a little irritated at her brother's usual overprotectiveness. "How does such a vast land go together with the tight protection you have planned?" She asked with a smile.
"In these days of peace, I can afford to control vast lands and clear them from the Enemy's creatures. When the darker days you keep foretelling – and I sense them too – come, we will be able to pull back to safety," he explained, gesticulating vividly with his hands.
She nodded. "That is a good plan," she said. "So tell me, where is the lands to be?"
He rose and rummaged at his desk for a while, bringing back a map and putting it on her lap. "The city would be on Narog, where it goes through Taur-en-Faroth," he said, pointing.
Nerwen stared. "So far south?"
"Why are you so alarmed, dear sister?" He asked with a smile, sitting back down.
"It is very far from our brothers and uncle, in case you needed help," she pointed out. "And also..."
"Yes?"
"I had hoped all of my friends would be in the North," she admitted, "so that when I returned home, I would find you all there. But now you will be in a different realm altogether, and far."
He reached out to squeeze her knee lightly. "As to the first, I am confident that with our uncle's leave, I will have enough Elves to defend the lands I want to defend. As to the second, do not worry – it will be many years until the city is ready, and before it is, I will be often in Doriath, asking for advice and craftsmen. Afterwards, it will be up to you to decide where you want to spend your time, but I can promise you a place by my side as the lady of the new realm whenever you do come."
She pressed the hand he kept on her knee, grateful and aware at the same time that he brother did not realize that that was not what she wanted. He thought he was fulfilling her wish of a realm of her own, or as close to it as possible, while this was perhaps further from it than her house in Hithlum. Lately, the differences between them were felt less, but now it opened again like a chasm before her. She did not say anything, however, merely asked: "And Tol Sirion?"
He sat back in his chair. "I will leave it to Artaresto."
Nerwen had another opportunity to stare. "To Artaresto?" She asked. "Why?"
"Well, I had considered Aikanáro, but I do not think it would be wise to let him rule without the calming influence of Angaráto."
She thought about this. "You are probably right," she conceded, "but perhaps you could send Aikanáro and Artaresto to Tol Sirion? Angaráto and Eldalótë would be fully able to rule Dorthonion..."
"And do you believe Artaresto would be forceful enough to curb Aikanáro's wilder ideas?" Ingoldo asked with raised eyebrows.
"Angaráto is not forceful either," Nerwen pointed out.
"True, but it is still something different to hear criticism of your suggestions from your older brother and from your nephew who is not even half a millenium old."
As if you would know, she thought. Aloud, she said: "And yet you think that nephew is ready to rule a land on his own."
Her brother shrugged languidly. "I will leave some of my advisers with him, and I will install him there while I build my new city, during which time I will still be coming back and teaching him. I believe he can learn."
Galadriel sighed. This was, of course, a bone of contention between them. Ingoldo was convinced that wisdom was all that mattered in a ruler, she thought a degree of fire and strength was needed as well, especially in hard times like these. Artaresto did have a degree of stubbornness deep inside – more of it than his father, in fact – but it only came to the surface in the matters that he considered absolutely crucial. "I hope you will leave him the sort of advisers he needs, at least," she said.
He smiled. "Well, you can always visit him." He considered. "Yes, perhaps you should travel north all the same."
She looked at him in some astonishment. "Brother, Itarillë, Findekáno and Ñolofinwë live in the North, apart from all my other friends and kin. Of course I would have to go North."
He sighed. "I wish I could simply ask them all to come to my realm, when you want to see them. I do not like the idea of you travelling though unprotected lands without your brothers."
At this, she laughed incredulously. "Do you think me defenceless?"
"No. But all of us would give our lives to protect you; without us, who will give their life?" He knew as well as she did Celeborn was unlikely to be travelling with her every time.
Her laughed disappeared, and she rose to embraced him awkwardly, standing above him. "I swear I will be careful," she said after she let him go. "I will take large entourages with me."
"Do," he said, taking a hold of her hand when she made to return to her chair. "That is another reason I want my new realm to be safe and close – such journeys requite time and preparation. If you are ever unhappy here, I want you to have the possibility to simple flee at a moment's notice, directly to me, without hesitation. You mean the world to me, sister."
Galadriel tightened the embrace, feeling guilty, as she often did, for loving others more than her brother.
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She sought out Celeborn the next day, after the morning meal, and walking among the trees, she told him what she learned from her brother the previous evening.
He smiled. "Your brother doesn't seem to trust me much."
She shook her head. "Rather, I think it's because he knows of my...objections to your king. He's aware it could become difficult for me to stay in his court, and is offering me an easy way out."
"And what happens to me in this scenario?" He asked archly.
"My brother would welcome you, of course, but I think he isn't sure you'd want to come." She shrugged. "And in any case it'd only be for a short time, just for me to have a small reprieve."
"Why do you expect King Elu's company could become so hard to bear? Is it only because of the way he treats his wife?"
She sighed. "No." How to explain? "He reminds me of Feanor sometimes, in some ways," she said simply.
He pulled away. "Isn't that a little harsh?"
Of course, her half-uncle was just the murderer from her stories to Celeborn. She reached out for his hand. "Feanor wasn't always all bad either. At the beginning, he was proud and short-tempered, yes, but not truly fell. He darkened only with time. I fear the same might happen to your king, though Lady Melian may prevent it, of course. But Feanor would never have turned wholly bad if that which he loved wasn't taken from him. It's mainly if something like this happened that I can imagine a dark fate for Elu."
Celeborn's forehead creased with worry. "What do you see, Galadriel?"
She sighed. "Only very unclearly, but...Queen Melian will never leave him, and no one has the power to separate them. Lúthien, on the other hand...it's in the nature of things that daughters leave their fathers in time. That is where I sense the danger – when she falls in love."
"But surely if it was true flame of the One, he wouldn't..." Celeborn said hopefully.
Galadriel almost laughed. "Yes, if – but unfortunately, there hasn't been a way invented yet to tell from the outside, and so this is the question fathers all around Arda ask themselves when their daughters fall in love, and the excuse they use if they don't want to give consent to the marriage...what if it isn't real? I've seen it too many times in Noldorin courts, and I used to have understanding for it. Now, I have very little left. If they trust their daughters only a little, they know they'd be able to tell – after all, the fathers have felt it themselves, and know it's unmistakeable. Before I felt the Flame myself, I thought it was perhaps unclear and difficult to decipher, but it isn't."
Celeborn smiled. "But then your inner sight is very clear."
Galadriel stayed serious. "All of the daughters always said the same thing: that they were certain. None of them admitted any doubts, and I saw into their hearts – they weren't lying. I think it's part of the nature of the Flame, that when you clear all obstacles from its way, it burns so brightly it can't be mistaken for anything else, and nothing else is similar to it."
Her betrothed considered this. "It's true that before you told me of the tragedies in Aman, I wasn't sure if it was merely an admiration I felt for you, similar to what I've felt for others, or something else. After, it became completely obvious. So I believe you're right after all, my lady – but perhaps the fathers do not know that."
"They don't want to know it," Galadriel said irritably. "There've been nine cases in the last six years, up in the North, and always I came forward with this argument...and always they refused to listen. It's not only the lovers' heart that can be clouded into not seeing the truth."
Celeborn pressed her hand in hope of giving comfort. "Let's hope, then, that when this happens, Queen Melian will clear our king's sight."
"Yes, that is where I draw hope from as well."
They headed back to Thousand Caves, for they had promised to meet Celeborn's family for midday meal. Galadriel had spoken to his parents only once since her engagement, and relatively briefly, to receive congratulations and agree on the wedding date and place. Now Lady Ernil had apparently made them agree on a meal together, and Nerwen was rather curious about how it would turn out, with so many people who preferred solitude gathered together.
They entered Prince Elmo's chambers, where the meal was to take place, and were welcomed by his wife. "Oh, you're here, good," she said. "Gilernil and Aelon arrived as well, I didn't dare to hope they'd come..."
Galadriel, too, was astonished. She had not met Celeborn's other grandparents yet – they lived in north Neldoreth and rarely came to Thousand Caves.
Lady Ernil ushered the engaged couple inside the sitting room and took care of the introductions. "I have heard," Lord Aelon said after that was done, "that you're a friend to our princess. Do you accompany her to the forest?"
"I do. It'd be difficult being fer friend and not doing that," Galadriel said with a small smile.
"Quite," Lord Aelon replied like Lúthien was not something he was interested in discussing at all. "She goes to Neldoreth often, doesn't she?"
"Oh, yes, I believe it's her favourite part of Doriath."
"And yours?" He asked sharply, and Galadriel realized they have arrived at the heart of the matter.
She hesitated. "It's...hard for me to choose in such a way. I think I like particular places, a bend in a riven, a clearing..."
"But surely you know if you prefer beech trees to holly trees?" He sounded almost irritable now.
"Oh hush," Lady Gilernil spoke for the first time, quietly. "One can love the entire realm without preference, can one not?"
"Certainly," Nerwen replied, thrown a little off balance by this entire conversation.
"It'd be much nicer in this kingdom if more did, in fact," Celeborn's mother joined them. "I've heard the Ents had to deal with a disrespectful border guard once again. I don't understand how someone who lives in a woodland realm can have so little regard for the actual trees that make up the forest!"
"Well, my dear," Lady Ernil said in a tone of patience worn thin, "this land needs to be protected from dangers rather more grim than some broken branches, so..."
"Surely it's not too much to ask to-"
Galadriel withdrew from that conversation, to find Celeborn and Prince Elmo talking quietly to the side. Celeborn's father sat a short distance from them, with a look in his eyes that said his mind wandered somewhere quite different and he did not wish to be disturbed, so Galadriel joined her betrothed instead.
"Are they arguing again?" Prince Elmo asked with a small smile.
"Well..." Galadriel hesitated.
Celeborn laughed. "You don't have to be afraid of saying it how it is," he said. "Grandmother Ernil and Mother can rarely go without arguing at least once when they are in a room – their political opinions are very different. There's no bad blood, though, don't worry. As for grandfather Aelon, well, he has the habit of rubbing everyone the wrong way, but I'd expect grandmother Gilernil to...ah, yes, here she comes."
Lady Gilernil disentangled herself from the conversation and joined them. "I apologize," she said, in the direction of Galadriel.
Before the Noldorin lady could reply, Prince Elmo said: "Gilernil, dear, there's no reason to. I know my wife and your daughter enough to know it was mainly their work. Come sit with us and tell us the news of Neldoreth."
They talked quite pleasantly of the forest in spring, with niphredil in bloom and tree leaves green, for a long while before the rest of the family rejoined them.
"I apologize," Lady Ernil said quietly to Galadriel, unknowingly echoing Celeborn's other grandmother. "I swear my son's wife brings out the worst in me. It's opinions like hers that make it impossible to push any sensible options through in the king's council."
"Are you on the council, then?" Galadriel asked, surprised.
Lady Ernil laughed at that. "No, of course not. I thought you knew our king? My husband is, though, and we agree on most things – except how often his brother is truly insufferable. More often than not, however, he's the lonely voice of reason there."
"Truly? What does he promote, then? Who is the opposition?" Strangely enough, she had never talked about the politics of Doriath with anyone before – Lady Melian, in spite of being the Queen, was hardly concerned about it, and there were always other things to talk about with Celeborn.
"Well, we are close to Beleg, the Chief Marchwarden," Lady Ernil replied, and when Galadriel did not look like that helped her at all, she elaborated: "We believe that the best defence of this realm is sometimes offence as well, not allowing the Enemy to gain strength. However, the King is surrounded by people like Saeros, who insist that our first duty is to protect people inside Doriath and we cannot afford to deflect any resources to anything else, and those of Gelvil's way of thinking, who seem to believe plants are more important than Elves and any operation that would be a danger to them has to be stopped. Fortunately Galadhon could not be persuaded to care about politics for a kingdom, so at least I'm spared the indignity of having to set my husband against our son in the councils."
Galadriel was so interested in the topic that she had not noticed that Celeborn had started listening to his grandmother halfway through. "My father mightn't have been so averse to politics if it didn't mean being torn between his wife and mother," he said now with a smile. "I know I certainly find it difficult to keep to my middle ground, and that's one reason I'm glad I was never offered a place in the council."
"Beloved," Lady Ernil said with an ironic smile, "not being in the council keeps you away from politics about as much as it does me."
Celeborn laughed, and Galadriel contentedly thought that there would certainly be enough things to keep her occupied in Doriath in years to come.
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AN: I swear I didn't intend to turn Celeborn's family into a comic relief Thanksgiving dinner kind of thing. It just happened.