Chapter 13: Happiness

Year 53 of the Sun, Hithlum

Galadriel understood, now, why everyone she had consulted insisted they plan to stay at least two months after the wedding before relocating to Doriath.

For the first one, they did not leave the bedroom at all.

She also understood why Melian had warned her about doing anything much beyond chaste embraces and hand kissing. Once the flame was kindled properly, it would have been very hard to stop.

The wedding celebration had gone wonderfully, the feast was magnificent and the dancing glorious. Galadriel basked in the happiness of all her guests, but nothing in her memories could overshadow what came after she finally entered the same bedchamber with Celeborn.

She remembered slowly undressing, taking the jewels off one after the other, remembered letting her hair down and standing there covered only by its waves, and Celeborn's look. He had come to her, then, and kissed her on the lips for the first time, almost reverently at first. But she had no time for reverence, and she took his face between her hands and deepened the kiss, following some old instinct Eru put in their bodies. His hands were around her in an instant, and they were pressing together in a strange sort of desperation, she almost tearing his robe off. And then she felt her naked skin against his for the first time...and it was all fire.

The entire month, in fact, was spent alternating between a fire so bright Nerwen sometimes thought only Lady Arien herself could match it, and quieter, intimate moments when they laid in each others embrace, their minds connected, and whispered sweet words of love. The words of love would then, gradually, turn into a more passionate speech, and the fire would start again.

She first left the bedroom when her need to thank her uncle became too overwhelming. She idly asked the serving girl who brought them dinner if he was present in the house at the moment, but when she found out that yes, he happened to be, she could not resist. Giving Celeborn a lingering kiss, she put on a light dressing gown and headed to the guest quarters.

She found her uncle sitting with Findekáno and Itarillë, and the moment her cousin spied her, he gave her a very bright smile. "So?" He said.

"So I spent a month in the bedroom, what do you think?" She could not help but smile in her reply, however. "Uncle, I wished to talk to you," she said then.

"Of course."

They retreated to a small drawing room and he gave her a questioning look.

"I only wanted to...well, to thank you. For all the advice you have given me."

"But of course. I gather you found it useful, then?"

Her smile broadened. "Very much so." She paused, and chuckled. "Celeborn wished to thank you as well, in fact, given that your advice directly benefited him, but, well, he does not quite know you well enough to discuss something so personal."

"Well, tell him I accept his thanks by proxy. I was glad to help, in the absence of your parents..."

Nerwen shook her head. "Honestly, even had my parents been here, I would have preferred to have this conversation with you. I do not know anything about their intimate life, naturally, but I cannot help feeling that it would be somewhat less...fiery."

"Hm, you may be right there – but then again, you may not. After all, Celeborn does not seem like an overly passionate sort either, and yet from what you hint at..."

She smiled fondly at this. "Oh, but he is. Even outside the marriage bed, I mean. He dislikes it about himself and wishes he were calmer, but when the provocation is enough, he can be very passionate about things."

Ñolofinwë considered this. "Like Angaráto, then?"

"In this, yes, a little," she agreed reluctantly, "though he is different from my brother in other ways, it should be said."

"I know, beloved, do not worry." Her uncle smiled. "So you should not keep him waiting too long, otherwise he might be provoked."

Nerwen smirked in response. "Well, but I want him to be passionate now, do I not?"

But she did return to the bedchamber and made her absence up to Celeborn most diligently. However, the little talk with her uncle reminded her that she would leave her family soon, whereas Celeborn would stay by her side, and so she made herself go and talk to them more and more as time progressed, and he gradually joined her.

And now, the day of her departure came, and it was her sad task to give her farewells to all her family and friends. She stood in a very long embrace with Itarillë, who was clinging to her almost in desperation and clearly trying very hard not to. "You have always been here for me," she said. "My entire life. What am I going to do without you?"

"You are going to be perfectly fine. If there is someone I am not worried about, it is you. You are strong, and you are wise, and I taught you everything I could. And my thoughts will always be with you, beloved, always, and I will come to visit as often as I can."

Itarillë tightened the embrace once more, and then she let her cousin go.

Turukáno came after, and their farewell was much more friendly than Galadriel would have imagined mere ten weeks ago; even Irissë refrained from most of her insufferability on this occasion.

Her goodbyes to her brothers were easier, for she knew that they would visit her in Doriath from time to time, apart from her own visits to them. But then Findekáno stood before her, and Galadriel found herself at a loss for words. To distract herself, she nodded to the golden bands in this hair, ones she had noticed at the wedding already, and since then. "A new fashion?" She asked.

He smiled mildly. "I will wear them in your honour and memory from now on," he said.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she had to blink rapidly to prevent them falling. "Should I get myself some black ones?" She asked.

He laughed. "That would send entirely the wrong message," he noted.

She shook her head. "I cannot possibly express how much I shall miss you."

"I know, Nerwen, I know. You don't have to say a word. I see your heart."

"And I yours."

They held hands and touched foreheads for a while, then he sighed heavily and let her go. For a moment, the pain seemed too big to bear.

Then she noted a hand on her shoulder, and it was the king, giving her strength. "Be happy," he said. Then he smiled and added: "You can look at it as being our long-term envoy to Doriath."

"Valar, no! That would mean I would have to be extremely courteous to every member of the royal family, and that would make it all even harder."

They laughed together and shared an embrace, and then Galadriel straightened, took Celeborn's arm, and together they left the house, all of his kin behind them, on their way to Doriath.

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It could be said Galadriel was happy there. She loved her husband as deeply as one could, and that, of course, would have been quite enough to make her feel almost radiant at times. She could not get enough of the closeness to him that marriage provided, and they spent a significant amount of time in their chambers for months.

Her living conditions were comfortable as well, so there was no source of discontent in that. They were granted a large apartment not far from the royal one, with expertly carved walls and beautifully painted murals. It had been furnished by Queen Melian, and though Galadriel regretted not having the options to do it herself, she had to admit the lady's impeccable taste.

After the initial vigour of her intimacy with Celeborn calmed a little, she started to develop a sort of routine. On a usual day, she spent the mornings with the Queen, afternoons in solitude with book or art or in walks, and evenings in the company of her husband, who was busy most of each day with court politics. Some days they lunched or dined with Prince Elmo and Lady Ernil, and more rarely with Celeborn's parents.

Galadriel tried to become more integrated into the courtly life of Doriath, but it was not easy. She was regarded as an outsider, her golden hair shining among their silver and indicating her foreignness immediately, if the light she carried in her from the West had not been not enough. Those who were more kindly disposed put her, in their minds, in the same category as their Queen and Princess, helped no doubt by the amount of time Galadriel spent with the ladies: good and well-meaning, but very distant and not someone that can be talked to, or interacted with normally. But there were others who resented this marriage of the royal prince, and saw Galadriel as an intruder, as someone who had no place in Thousand Caves, or at least not so very close to the royal family. Saeros was chief among these, of course, he and his followers, and they hardly ever spoke to her beyond the barest greeting. It was only very slowly that she was beginning to do away with this dislike and suspicion, one elf at a time.

And she did feel herself removed from their concerns, interested either in the North, which no one else there was, or in Aman, of which she could only talk with the Queen. Lady Ernil was friendly enough towards her and was willing to share some of her plans – though less so to listen to Galadriel's ideas on them – but Prince Elmo was kind but distant, and then there were many who held, politically, very different opinions from hers and so made court relations complicated. Celeborn's mother was one of such people, of course, and so was Celeborn's brother, even though he showed much less interest in the topic and spent most of his time with his grandparents in Neldoreth or with his mother and the ents.

That was, in fact, where she met him most often, for she sometimes searched out the Shepherds of Trees when she walked in the forest with Celeborn. She liked talking to Treebeard occasionally – it was so very different from talking to anyone else – though she did not, at the same time, fully understand those, like Lady Gelvil or Galathil, who spent so much of their time there. The Shepherds had concerns of their own, and it seemed to Galadriel that they were, by necessity, very removed from the elven ones.

The only one who seemed to truly understand them, in her own special way, was Lúthien. She was never willing to stop by for a short moment with ents when she walked in the forest with Galadriel, but sometimes she could be encountered there by chance, and then, the Nolde knew, it always meant the Princess was spending weeks, listening to the slow speech of the Shepherds.

"But can you speak it?" Nerwen asked, the first time she came across her friend in such a manner.

"No," Lúthien replied, unfazed, "but I can understand it."

She then shooed Galadriel away, saying that she was disturbing everyone, and there was nothing for the Nolde but to return to Thousand Caves with Celeborn, musing about what she saw.

When Lúthien finally returned, many days later, Galadriel did not hesitate to ask about it again. "You never seemed to want to have anything to do with the ents!"

"No, I only never wanted to stop by when you were with me," Lúthien corrected her. "It's senseless to try and visit them in such a hasty manner. You need to have time for them."

Galadriel smiled a little. She hadn't been called hasty since she left Aman, where her father, and sometimes Lord Olórin, were apt to raise that objection against some of her actions. "Is that why Lady Gelvil and Galathil spend so much time with them?"

"I don't know. Perhaps. I never talked to them about it."

"But...they are there so often. Surely, if you go to see the Ents regularly..."

Lúthien gave her a look that seemed to indicate she doubted her sanity. "I go there to see the Ents," she replied, "not my royal relatives. I can see them in Thousand Caves."

"Certainly. And do you talk to them about it here, then?"

Lúthien hesitated. "You know I hardly talk to them."

"Yes. And to be fair, they hardly talk to anyone, but...beloved, surely it cannot be only me and your mother who you talk to when you're in the city? And Daeron," she amended.

"Don't even remind me," Lúthien said with a sigh. She did not spend time with Daeron willingly. Not because she hated him, but because she disliked elves gushing over her, and he was, in this sense, the worst offender. "But not even Galathil is immune, and Lady Gelvil never showed any interest in speaking to me. Lady Ernil does, but our interests are so very disparate we rarely ever have anything to converse about." She smiled. "My uncle is one of those closest to me among the elves, though." Then her smile turned into a smirk, and she added: "And Celeborn has been getting easier to be around, too. Your charm seems to have made him immune to mine."

Galadriel laughed at that. "It's kind of you to say so," she replied, "but I hardly measure up."

"Perhaps not in general," Lúthien replied calmly, "but to him, you certainly do."

These frequent long absences of the princess meant she was not part of of Galadriel's daily routine, but instead, she often interrupted said routine by days long walks with her friend. Lúthien was forever discovering new places she wished her to see in the forest. Galadriel went willingly enough, finding much joy in the beauty the princess showed her, though perhaps not as much as the Sindarin lady herself.

Another distraction was Ingoldo, who came about twice a year and stayed for weeks every time - he would have come more often, she knew, or stayed longer, but he could not leave his construction site abandoned all the time. On those occasions, he consulted her on many matters concerning the city and the best possible layout, and she gave what advice she could. It was not truly her expertise, but she enjoyed having a word in the planning, as she had enjoyed planning her own house those years ago. And, truth be told, it was difficult to get Ingoldo to talk about anything else these days.

It also meant she met the dwarves for the first time, the race about whose skill with the stone she had heard so much, especially from Maitimo. She had heard descriptions, of course, so she knew they were to be short and with hair on their faces, but still, the reality of them was so much stranger than she would have expected. Ingoldo brought a few of the chief architects of his city with him to Menegroth to show them in practice what he wished for, and Galadriel had a hard time ignoring her astonishment at the way they looked...until, that was, she heard them talk.

She grew up a Nolde, and while she had no interest in crafting herself, she had heard enough about it through her life to recognize experts when she saw them, and here were some of the best experts she had ever met standing before her. She waited for a pause in their conversation with Ingoldo, then asked: "Do you know, perhaps, my cousin Maedhros, Lord of Himring?"

They turned to her. "No," the one who appeared to be the eldest and whose name was Fenri answered. "It's the dwarves of Belegost who are friendly with those elves. Why do you ask?"

"My cousin spoke most highly of the art of some dwarven friends of his, so I've wondered if, perhaps, it wasn't you."

"There are many among us skilled in craft," Fenri said simply, and they returned to their conversation with Ingoldo. Galadriel stayed for some time to listen, regretting now that she never contacted dwarves to help with the building of her house, as Maitimo had recommended. Perhaps she could have achieved even greater beauty.

So Ingoldo's dwarven friends were added to her list of distractions, and it soon became his habit to always bring some with him when he came, to discuss jewels and carvings with her and hear, perhaps, some ideas for a work of beauty. She could not create them herself, but she was enough of a Nolde that she could think of them, and always rewarded the dwarves most generously when they returned with just the jewel she had described. As often, however, they brought her a creation wholly of their own, and it was equally beautiful.

Truly, it was all very pleasant, and in some ways, Doriath reminded Galadriel of her years in Aman – she was surrounded by beauty and by people she loved, and yet there was something missing, even apart from her kin. She knew what it was, and mourned the loss in the privacy of her heart. She never truly had it, but she had been much closer to it once than she was now.

Her mind often sought her relations in the North, but as close as their hearts were, it was not easy to discuss war and politics in this way, which was more suited to sharing images and memories. Nevertheless, she did her best, and sometimes when the matter was urgent, she could almost hear the thoughts of those who sought her advice as if they were speaking to her.

She stayed a whole year in Doriath before she returned to Hithlum for the first time. When she went, she went without Celeborn, and spent several months. Turukáno let his daughter go and see her dearest friend once more, and so Nerwen was given the chance to spend all of that time in close company with those who were most important to her outside of Doriath. Beside pure pleasure of their company, it entailed long strategic discussions with Findekáno and Ñolofinwë and much work with the sick who still gathered in her house, now cared for chiefly by others, under Brannor's direction. She found the time to visit the worst injuries at least, and help them with all the art she brought from Valinor.

It became a habit after a time – out of every year, she spent four months in Hithlum. Celeborn sometimes accompanied her, sometimes he did not. He liked her relations, but he never felt at home in the North and soon longed for his forest and wished to return to Doriath. As much as she loved him and missed him when she was with her kin, however, Galadriel hardly ever had this desire. She would have had to spend much longer away from that which attracted her to Thousand Caves not to feel the loss of her older friends keenly.

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It was after some years in Doriath that Nerwen suddenly felt a great alarm from all of her dear ones in the North at once. She was worried and wanted very much to know more details, but knew they did not have the time to communicate with her now. She sought the company of her husband and Lady Melian instead, and in their somewhat calming presence, passed the next several days. She wanted to go North very much, but had to accept that she did not know what the danger was and that it could lay between Doriath and the lands of her relations, and so she waited.

The moment the alarm and fear and anger turned into triumph, her insistent mind called to Findekáno, and he regaled her with visions of the great battle. She had been prepared for this eventuality, and as soon as she was sure it was safely won, she left for Hithlum without hesitation. There were going to be many injured, and her help was needed.

Healing was not the only field in which he gave assistance. Ñolofinwë called a private council, to which only his sons, Maitimo, Galadriel and Ingoldo were invited. Nerwen wished Itarillë had been there too, but knew that wish would not be heard and that her cousin did not particularly desire to be included, so she let it be.

At the beginning, before saying anything else, Ñolofinwë turned to Galadriel and asked: "Have you foreseen something?"

"This is but a faint echo of a warning," she replied. "If we are not foolish, it will be many years yet until we face ruin by the hand of the Enemy. This is a slight reminded not to get too complacent and to remember we are not safe."

She saw the frowns on Findekáno's and Ñolofinwë's faces and sighed slightly. She knew that they did not believe her when she said that all their current prosperity would be brought to ruin one day by the Enemy. Her eyes turned to Turukáno, and she was surprised to see understanding there. Once again, she had underestimated his wisdom.

"So we are safe for now?" Her uncle asked.

"As long as we make ourselves safe," she replied. "For now, we can still do so; the day will come when all our best efforts will not be enough against him."

"We need better defensible lands," Turukáno stated. "Hithlum is too open, and it is impossible to keep it defended indefinitely."

That was the Turukáno Galadriel knew. He was not wrong, strictly speaking, but it was the kind of approach she could simply not get behind. And neither, of course, could the king and his eldest son. Or Maitimo. "Go hide somewhere if you want," he said, "my brothers and I will continue defending these open lands."

"We will not abandon that where we made home," Ñolofinwë shook his head. "No, we have to simply strengthen our border guards."

"Turukáno is right that the borders are very wide," Galadriel said slowly. "In fact, those of Angamando are markedly shorter..."

"What are you thinking?" Findekáno asked, curious.

"It would a very unpleasant duty, of course," she said, "but what if, instead of strengthening our border guards, we would encircle the lands of the Enemy?"

"You want to lay siege to Angamando?" Ñolofinwë asked incredulously. That was very unlike his niece.

"No – I do not want us to really attempt to break inside. Merely prevent anything getting out."

"It makes more sense when it comes to number of soldiers we have," Ñolofinwë admitted. "But could our people take it?"

"They are the Noldor," Findekáno said firmly. "They passed through the Ice. Of course they can take it."

Ñolofinwë gave a questioning glance to Maitimo, who said: "If you agree to this plan, then we will join you in the endeavour."

The king slowly nodded. "I will have to think though the details," he said, "but it does not seem impossible to put in practice."

The council was dispersed for the day, and Galadriel felt more alive than she had for a some time.

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She stayed in the North her usual four months, helping to prepare the details of the new plan to wage war, planning patrol locations and the necessary number of soldiers, training healers to serve in the rough conditions that would be needed there. Returning to her quietly useless life in Doriath after this was a bit of a shock, but at least she had the memory to live off. Still, Queen Melian noted her upset, and tried to improve her mood by talking about Aman. They dwelt on the beauty of Tirion for some time, and on the high peaks of the Pelóri and the vastness of the land beyond them. But then Lady Melian wished to talk of the sea as it washed the coast of Aman, and Nerwen could not quite hide her pain.

"There's some woe that lies upon you and your kin," the Queen said, giving her a sharp look. "That I can see in you, but all else is hidden from me; for by no vision or thought can I perceive anything that passed or passes in the West: a shadow lies over all the land of Aman, and reaches far out over the sea. Why won't you tell me more?"

Galadriel sighed deeply. She knew the secret could not be kept forever, but she still wished for some time more. "For that woe is past," she replied, "and I'd take what joy is here left, untroubled by memory. And maybe there's woe enough yet to come, though still hope may seem bright." She never liked talking of what her sight told her as certainty in the presence of Lady Melian, even though she did so with everybody else; but surely the Maia saw as much as she did, and more, and likely understood it better. Galadriel disliked making a fool of herself.

Queen Melian gave her a hard look, something that happened rarely enough. 'Do not try to change the topic,' it seemed to say. "I believe not that the Noldor came forth as messengers of the Valar, as was said at first: not though they came in the very hour of our need. For they speak never of the Valar, nor have their high lords brought any message to Thingol, whether from Manwe, or Ulmo, or even from Olwe the King's brother, and his own folk that went over the sea. For what cause, Galadriel, were the high people of the Noldor driven forth as exiles from Aman? Or what evil lies on the sons of Feanor that they are so haughty and so fell? Do I not strike near the truth?"

Galadriel sighed again. Clearly, she would have to say something, as much as she loathed to. Queen Melian was right, of course, the behaviour of the Noldor was highly suspicious. It was also true that most others, apart from her and her brothers and Itarillë, did not like speaking of the Valar. They felt too guilty. Perhaps that was something she could start from? "Near," she said, "save that we weren't driven forth, but came of our own will, and against that of the Valar. And through great peril and in despite of the Valar for this purpose we came: to take vengeance upon Morgoth, and regain what he stole." Some of us, anyway. But Melian knew her personal reasons already.

"What he stole?"

"You have heard of Feanor, and you have heard me say that though prideful and rebellious, he was also the greatest in spirit among us. He made jewels, once, many years ago, that captured the light of the Trees." Galadriel closed her eyes for a moment, remembering her amazement when they were first uncovered, in those still blissful days. "They were things of great beauty, hallowed by Queen Varda herself, and Morgoth set his eyes on them. He came to our king Finwe's house once when Feanor was absent, and he killed the king and took the jewels and destroyed the Trees – but that you know of already. Feanor asked us to go with him to take the jewels – the Silmarils - back and avenge the king, and most of us did."

"Jewels that captured the treelight?" Longing sounded in Lady Melian's voice. "It must have been great beauty indeed."

"It was; the greatest wonder ever created by the Children of the One, I believe."

Melian was silent for a moment, and Galadriel saw that she wished very much she could lay her eyes, at least for a moment, on those memories of the light she once knew. Then she said: "Now much you tell me, and yet more I perceive. A darkness you would cast over the long road from Tirion, but I see evil there, which Thingol should learn for his guidance."

Oh, certainly. I do not particularly want to see what kind of guidance it would lend him. Nothing good for my kin would come out of it, at any rate. "Maybe," she said aloud, "but not of me."

"Your loyalty stays firmly with your father's people, doesn't it?"

"Yes, for they're those - apart from my husband – who are the closest to my heart. But I love you and Lúthien dearly, and so for you I'll say a little more: if I was to give one advice to king Elu, it'd be to beware of some of the sons of Feanor. Maedhros and Maglor have good hearts, though they might be harsh sometimes, but the rest are prideful and hot-headed, and lack compassion; and all of them are bound by a terrible oath to reclaim the Silmarils. They will stop at nothing to regain them, in the end. The rest of the Noldor, I can swear have only the best of intentions towards you. The brothers, I cannot vouch for, not in all circumstances. Go tell this to your king, and let him do with it what he may."

Then, she departed the Queen's company to seek out the trees, and her husband.