The Nolde, or There and Back Again

by BarbaraKaterina

This is the story of Artanis Nerwen, later known as Galadriel. The story of how she left, and how she came back, and all that happened in between. (Nolde - a female Noldo) / Do you realize, Lord Laurefindil, that of all the people present in Middle-Earth now, I have known you the longest?

36. New

AN: We made it to the end of Firs Age, yay!

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Chapter 36: New

Year 1 of the Second Age, remnants of Ossiriand

All ships have departed, and Galadriel stood alone on the beach, looking into distance, her heart aching. She asked everyone to leave her and spent many hours in silent contemplation, before finally turning back to walk to the camp.

She managed only a few steps before astonishment halted her, for there, a little down the beach from her, stood Lord Laurefindil.

She approached him, still unsure if her eyes were not deceiving her, and he bowed. "My lady," he said.

"Lord Laurefindil. You have not...departed?"

He smiled, but only very slightly. "As you can see."

"Why?" She asked bluntly.

"My lady, as you know, my loyalty has always been to the house of Turukáno. Its heirs are to be found here."

"Yet they are to be found in Aman as well."

"True, but they require my assistance rather less in Aman, would you not agree? At any rate, Ehtelion returned there to be of service to Itarillë. My choice was to remain here, to help her grandchildren – or grandson, I should say, as Lord Elros' choice will likely prevent me from helping him for long."

"Your sacrifice is...noble, my lord."

"Why? How does it differ from yours?"

She smiled bitterly, but felt no particular need to make it public that she was banned from returning. "I stayed chiefly for my own ambition," she said instead.

Lord Laurefindil, however, shook his head. "It might have been one of your chiefest motivations," he said, "but, my lady, you have not founded your own realm once you came to Middle-Earth, against everyone. Instead, you helped where you could, with advice and healing. You will forgive me if I do not see your ambition as so all-embracing, then."

She sighed. "It is more complicated than that, but I thank you for your trust, Lord Laurefindil."

They turned to walk to the camp together. "Will you not miss Itarillë?" She asked.

"I will," he admitted easily. "But while I would dare to say that we became friends during our years in Ondolindë-"

"No need to be so very careful," Galadriel interrupted him with a smile. "I know you did, and she spoke about you as a friend without reservation. The best friend she could wish for, in fact."

He inclined his head. "I am honoured," he said. "But all the same, as much as we became friends, she was my king's daughter and my princess first and foremost, and I am bound to her family by duty before I am bound to her by friendship. I am needed here more."

Galadriel gave him a look. "What did she tell you when you presented her with your reasoning."

He hesitated. "I...had not made up my mind fully when I was leaving, so I could not tell her. I wrote her a letter and sent it with my father."

Galadriel was deeply amused. She herself wrote many such letters, to all friends and family she had beyond the Sea, and had a feeling that his would be deemed about as good a substitute for his personal presence as hers would be. "You better hope that you will have a long life here," she said, "for I fear your reception in Aman will not be pleasant."

He chuckled, then grew serious. "You do not...disapprove of my choice?"

"No. How could I? I love Elros and Elrond deeply, and am happy they have faithful protection in you. And this way, I benefit from your company as well."

"Once again, I am honoured."

"I just hope she will not be too lonely," Galadriel continued. "But she has Tuor and Aunt Anairë, and her son and Elwing, and her mother must surely return soon from the Halls of Mandos...and her Vanyar friends, too, are there. Though I am not certain...well. It will be difficult in a way, I think, to renew her close friendship with those who have never left Aman."

"For her, yes," he agreed. "Those who go through the Halls are freed from the burdens of their past life in many ways, and so it is easier, but...yes, for her, it might not be. But as you have said, she has Lord Tuor by her side. And...I do not know this for certain, but something she had said leads me to believe that Lord Olórin intends to keep her company."

Galadriel's face brightened. "Truly? That is wonderful news."

"Yes. She also often walks with Lady Vána, and Lady Estë as well, as I have told you before."

Galadriel took a deep breath to calm herself. Were such things to be forever forbidden to her? "I am glad for her," she said aloud. "I am sure that in company of the Great Ladies, my absence will be borne easily."

"I do not believe so," Lord Laurefindil replied, "but more easily than without it, yes."

There was a short silence. "And Lord Ehtelion?" She asked curiously then. "Will he keep her company as well?"

"He will be loyal to her," Lord Laurefindil replied, "but he is not...a personal friend. He never has been, not to her."

"But to you, if I remember it well. Will you not miss him?"

"One more person to miss does not change my duty."

"I wish I had your resolve, Lord Laurefindil."

"I am sure you have even more, my lady. You told me some stories during the war and some I have heard elsewhere, but I do not know all. Is it true that you saved most of the healers from Hithlum?"

And so Galadriel retold that tale, trying to keep her persisting pain over the Battle of Unnumbered Tears at bay, and talking, they arrived to the tents that housed the remaining elves for now. Artanáro welcomed her. "Uncle, Lord Ciryatan, Tyelperinquar and the twins are waiting for you in the dining hall," he said, using a very noble name for the biggest tent. "They wished to discuss the future." Then he noticed Lord Laurefindil, and stared. "But I thought you have departed!" He exclaimed.

"No," the golden Noldo said, stepping forward, and knelt. "I had been here until now as a subject of High King Arafinwë, but now that I chose to stay, my loyalty is to you, my king."

Artanáro shook his head. "This is one of the things we will have to discuss," he muttered. "It is absurd that I should be king and elves such as Lord Laurefindil should kneel before me. Rise, my lord, and you are of course welcome to join us for the discussion."

They entered the tent and all present greeted them with surprise, only Tyelperinquar turned his eyes to Lord Laurefindil questioningly, and Galadriel shook her head, a little bewildered. They have never met!

"Celebrimbor," she said, "allow me to introduce Lord Glorfindel, the Chief of the House of the Golden Flower, a House sworn to Turgon and his line, and one of Gondolin's captains when it still stood."

"Lord Glorfindel? But I thought..."

"Yes; he died defending Idril's escape, and after Valar allowed him to come back from Mandos, he returned to fight the Enemy and decided to stay in Middle-Earth. And Lord Glorfindel, allow me to introduce Celebrimbor..." She hesitated a little. "Kin to me as well as to Celeborn," she finished.

Tyelperinquar smiled, a little bitterly, a little sarcastically. "At least in this tent," he said, "there should, I think, be no secrets. My father was Curufin, son of Feanor," and though Lord Laurefindil tried to mask it, Galadriel saw him recoil a little, for he knew the tales of those who survived the last two kinslayings, and the history of Lúthien and Beren. "I rejected him, however," Tyelperinquar continued, "for the way he treated King Finrod of Nargothrond and contributed to his death, as well as what he did to my mother." The idea of no secrets evidently went only so far. Not that Galadriel blamed him, and Lord Laurefindil evidently knew better than to ask. He knew the story of Irissë better than most, after all.

There was a short silence after this exchange, then Artanáro began. "So," he said, "what now?"

"Well," Galadriel said with a mischievous smile, "you should tell us. You're the king, after all."

He frowned at her, and she grew serious. "It's the truth," she said. "Until now you have mostly only held it in form, but now the time has come to assume true royal duties."

"That title," he returned, "should have been yours years ago, as I've said before. Both according to wisdom and power, no offence to Lord Turgon," he added, sending a look in Lord Laurefindil's direction.

The golden-haired elf only smiled. "My king never wanted it," he replied. His Sindarin was a little accented, but not hard to understand. "He only ever saw himself as the ruler of Gondolin. I'm not offended, because he wouldn't be."

"Thank you for your regard, Artanáro," Galadriel returned to the main point, "but that changes nothing. Some elves might follow me now, if I found a realm of my own, but I can never be regarded as the bearer of the kingship. You'd have forfeited the responsibility had you left, for my father rules beyond the sea, but here, you're the king."

"Do you truly mind so much?" Lord Laurefindil asked him.

"I don't mind being king, no – I've had the best teacher, and so I believe I'm as prepared as I can be. What I truly mind is that I believe there are those who'd be better suited for the role, my aunt chiefest among them, and they won't be given the opportunity."

"We've already discussed this when you inherited the crown, beloved," Galadriel replied. "You remind me of my uncle. He told me something similar once." She smiled at the memory.

"King Fingolfin? Truly?"

Celeborn laughed. "I see you didn't trust your aunt quite as much as you seemed to, given your surprise."

"No, it's only...if King Fingolfin felt the same way, it makes me suddenly consider myself more fit for the role."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Celeborn commented drily, "who said your Aunt ever thought he was fit for it?"

Galadriel shook her head. "Certainly the most fitting, the most competent High King we have ever had, even though you know we had our disputes. But I do hope that Rodnor might prove even better."

In response to that, her nephew could only blush.

"But this discussion is fruitless," she added. "Like Fingolfin before you, you can't change what the Noldor expect of you, and what they don't expect of me. The question is, what will you do with the kingship?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you," he admitted. "We have to start anew, and you have experience with that – as does Lord Círdan, and, I assume, Lord Glorfindel."

"Lady Galadriel is your best resource," the Noldorin lord replied. "She was the one who effectively organized the building of Hithlum, while we waged war."

"I'll of course help in any way I can, in this as in anything. Lord Círdan?"

"I as well, naturally, but I fear I'm more skilled in building ships than cities; others did that in Falas, and they're dead or gone West now."

Galadriel accepted that it was going to be chiefly her responsibility with a nod, and turning to Artanáro, asked: "Do you know where you want to settle?"

"Another thing to consult, but I've been thinking...well, I've learned to love the sea, in our years in New Havens and then at Balar. I also loved the years spent in Tol Galen, and we are now in the remnants of Ossiriand, are we not? Besides, it seems right to me to have my seat facing West, where the Light dwells. So...could I build my seat here? We could have havens nearby in one of the new gulfs," he added, turning to Lord Ciryatan.

Galadriel contemplated the idea. "I understand your reasons," she said, "and I partly agree with them, but having a seat here will also put you at a distance from all the rest of Middle-Earth, which will be behind the mountains. And yet this is where our future lies, given that we've decided to stay."

Artanáro was forced to admit that was true, and was considering the idea of a more central location, when Elros spoke. "I don't feel quite worthy," he said, "to be invited to such a wise council, but I have some news for you at least, I believe. I spoke with Lord Eönwë and he said that to those of Men who fought against the Nameless One will be given the option to live on an island that will be raised for them in the seas, halfway between Aman and Middle-earth. As far as I know, all of the surviving Edain intend to accept this offer." He looked away for a moment, and as his brother pressed his hand in support, he added: "I'm to be the king of the new land."

Galadriel masked her surprise at this decision. "That's a great honour, beloved, my congratulations," she said instead. "And it changes things, too. In light of this, I think Artanáro's idea has great merit. We'd be close to you, and in the last remnants of the lands we so loved, and facing the West. I still don't quite like how it seems we're turning our back on Middle-Earth, but we can't be everywhere, and I much prefer it to turning my back on you."

"We'll think on it in more detail later and come up with a solution," Celeborn reassured her. "But it's good to have a place to start."

"We'll need to send scouts to map these remnants of Ossiriand, to make sure we know the best place to build our new capital. That should be started as soon as possible. Once we have that, we can make all the other decisions as regards construction."

Artanáro nodded his agreement, and Lord Laurefindil said: "That is the matter of the Noldor settled, then. What of the Sindar? I don't know the royal line, who's the heir to High Kingship?"

"Elrond is," Galadriel replied immediately, but the young elf shook his head. "I shan't claim it," he said. "At any rate I don't believe I'd be well received. I've always lived with the Noldor mostly, and I have their habits, though very little actual Noldorin blood."

"But if you relinquish your claim..." Galadriel hesitated, and then she started to laugh.

"What is it?" Lord Laurefindil asked, confused, but Artanáro was smirking already too.

"Well, then the kingship'd pass to my husband," Galadriel explained. Lord Laurefindil still seemed confused, and so she continued: "Since Elros will be the king of the new land, there are no more eligible descendants of Thingol. But he had a younger brother, Lord Elmo, who died during the Sack of Doriath, together with his son, Galadhon. Galadhon was Celeborn's father."

Celeborn, however, only smiled a slightly bitter smile. "I won't claim it either, for like Elrond, I have some doubts about the reception. I'm seen by many as excessively Noldor-influenced as well."

"Are you simply going to let Oropher claim it, then?" That was a truly horrifying thought.

Celeborn frowned at the idea. "I don't believe he shall," he said slowly. "If I thought he was so inclined, I'd feel obliged to contest it, yes, but at this point I believe it'd be best if the title remained unclaimed."

He turned to Lord Ciryatan: "What do you and your people intend?"

"Well, I'll certainly not proclaim myself king," the lord said with a smile. "I'd like to build new havens on this shore, and new ships in them – given the plans I've just heard it seems it'd be under the protection of the new Noldorin realm, and I'd be very grateful if it was so."

"We'd be honoured to have you, my lord," Artanáro said respectfully.

"The question of the Sindar from Doriath remains unresolved though," Galadriel reminded them. "They've lived under Lady Ernil's authority for decades, at Balar. Now that she's gone..." Celeborn had wept over his grandmother's departure, his pain accentuated by the knowledge that he was alone now, that of his family, only Oropher and Amdír remained, and their sons. And Oropher barely spoke to him. "I believe they're used to looking to you for command in her absence," she told her husband, "but regard Elros and Elrond as an important symbol."

"Yes," he agreed. "I don't, in fact, agree with Elrond's assessment that he wouldn't be accepted." He turned to the young lord. "In my grandmother's absence, I'm the quintessential Chief Councillor. You are the king. But it's of course your prerogative to reject the title. Still, what you do will remain important for what our people decide."

"I'll stay in this new kingdom, certainly, if it's on the coast and close to my brother's realm."

"And will you ask your people to stay also?"

"They can do what they wish."

Galadriel sighed. "Beloved," she said, "I know you're not used to this role and perhaps don't desire it," so much like Itarillë, she thought, "but people wish for leadership."

"It's true, my lord," Lord Laurefindil added. "They'll look up to you."

Elrond looked around the room, and when he found agreement in all of their faces, he said: "Very well. I'll tell them that, as little of elves as is left, we should stay all together, and that I'll remain in Rodnor's realm for now and not claim the title of king, given that there are truly very few Sindar of Doriath remaining...and that I'd...wish for my people to remain with me, if that's their desire. Surely if Lord Círdan chooses to stay in Rodnor's realm as well, it won't be seen as too problematic a decision?"

"I'll try to make it easier for you," Artanáro said. "I have no ambition to call myself the king of all elves, but I'd like my realm to be like that, to not be only a Noldorin thing. Nargothrond worked that way, a little, and it was a happy kingdom for a long time."

"It was a happy kingdom, but the king and all in the council were Noldor, let's not forget that," Galadriel said. "The Sindar lived there in peace and with respect, but they never governed it. Many' will remember that if you make this comparison, and some will also say that you are, in fact, trying to become the king of all elves."

"You mean Oropher," Celeborn said. "Let's be plain. I wouldn't worry about him too much. He's mostly pitied these days, not truly listened to."

"Not in all he says," Artanáro agreed, "but still, from what Thranduil tells me...at least part of his suspicions and aversions are shared by others, and Aunt Galadriel is right that they'll rise this objection against me. It can't be helped, I suppose."

"Aren't you half Sinda, my king?" Lord Laurefindil asked. "I seem to remember hearing it somewhere..."

Artanáro chuckled. "A quarter, to be more precise," he said, "and it's clear you didn't know my supposedly Sindarin mother. She was more Noldorin than most Noldor. So was my theoretically wholly Sindarin grandfather, come to think of it."

"Well, to be fair," Galadriel said, "your supposedly Noldorin father was more Sindarin – or Telerin – than many Sindar I know, too, and so was your grandfather my brother. So claiming your Sindarin blood wouldn't be a falsehood, exactly."

"It's true that if Lord Círdan's people join us, there'll likely be more Sindar in the realm than Noldor, or at least an equal number. Hmm. I'll have to think this through."

"You'd have to decide many things in such a case," Celeborn observed. "In the matter of language, culture, customs...who would get precedence, the Noldor or the Sindar?"

"Surely that can be left to the elves in question? Anyone can follow whichever customs they want. There are no Noldor left who don't speak Sindarin, so it's not that my people wouldn't be able to speak with me or my advisers."

"But when you speak to them, what language will you speak in? And even with culture and customs, there might be problems."

"Yes," Lord Ciryatan agreed, sounding almost hesitant, something unusual with him. As if he was speaking against his will or better judgement. "In fact, I can think of one which...would almost certainly arise. There are some things that could be deemed...offensive by one part of your realm."

"Offensive? The Noldor and the Sindar have lived together in New Havens and at Balar for years. I don't believe it'd suddenly become a problem."

Lord Ciryatan gave Celeborn a long look, and the younger Sinda inclined his head with what appeared to be even more unwillingness. "I believe I know what Lord Círdan means," he said, "and it could, truly, be difficult to accept for some of the Sindar."

Galadriel was confused, and she looked into Celeborn's mind to find come clues. What she found was an image of Beleg and Mablung together. Could this be about how Select couples were more frequent among the Noldor? But how would that be offensive to anyone?

"What is this mysterious matter?" Tyelperinquar asked impatiently.

"Perhaps it's better discussed in a smaller group, or at a later date?" Lord Ciryatan suggested.

"We will, then," Artanáro said, clearly equally confused as Galadriel. Then he turned to her and asked: "And what about you, what do you plan?"

"Well, I do count myself among the Noldor, even though my husband is Sindarin."

"Don't tease me, Aunt," Artanáro said, though he was smiling.

"Very well. At this point, I'll remain here in your kingdom and help you build it. After that's done, and once you're secure in your role as king and I'm confident that you'll manage without me, I may go and find a place to have a realm of my own."

"May?" Artanáro, still smiling, shook his head. "Aunt, if you don't, I'll use my royal authority and order you to. I know your dreams."

"And when have you ever known me to respect your royal authority? Don't think it'll be any different now that you might get an actual realm," Galadriel replied, with a smile as well.

"I'd never be so presumptuous."

They all laughed, and looked at each other, and when it seemed no one had any other important matters to raise, Galadriel, Artanáro and the two Sindarin lords took themselves apart to discuss the mysterious matter.

Lord Ciryatan, who first brought it up, seemed reluctant to speak now.

"It concerns the Strange," Celeborn said at length.

"Whom?" Artanáro asked in incomprehension.

"The...I believe you call them the Select."

"Oh. I had gathered so, yes, but...what does that have to do with Sindar being offended?"

"Therein lies the crux of the problem," Celeborn muttered, looking at Lord Ciryatan as if asking for help.

"There are...different customs regarding the Select, as you say, among the Sindar and the Noldor," the lord said at length, as if every word caused him some deep pain.

"Different customs? How so?" Galadriel found this statement strange. Was it possible she never noticed? "I thought there were simply less Select among you."

"No," Lord Ciryatan said slowly, still with the same air, "I think the number is roughly equal."

"Truly?" Celeborn seemed surprised. "I, too, have always thought it was exceptional among us."

This time, Lord Ciryatan flinched as if he had been personally offended. "I've...looked into the matter a little, recently," he said then, quietly, "and I don't believe so. It's only that the reception makes it less apparent."

"Reception?" Artanáro asked. Galadriel was equally at sea.

"It isn't quite..." Lord Ciryatan paused, looked at Celeborn, and shook his head. "Forgive me," he said then, "I find that I simply can't discuss it, not like this and in the present company. Perhaps alone with the King...but it won't be necessary. I'm sure Lord Celeborn can explain to your full satisfaction." And he was gone.

Galadriel sent another confused look after him, and then transferred it to Celeborn, who took a deep breath, as if preparing to jump. "I've always avoided speaking to you about this," he said, "because it's something that simply isn't done and because...well, for other reasons, but Rodnor needs to know about the problem, that's why Lord Círdan brought it up, however difficult it's to discuss. Among the Noldor, the Select live openly together, don't they? If I understand Noldorin customs correctly, the Select among you have wedding ceremonies and are regarded just the same as any...non-Select couple."

Galadriel was very surprised by the question, and one glance in Artanáro's direction confirmed that he was no less so. "Well, they don't have children," she said, "so the expectations are somewhat different – that's why they're called the Select – but apart from that, yes."

"I thought so, yes," Celeborn replied. "Among us, they...aren't. That's why Midhel told you that Beleg and Mablung were the worst kept secret of Doriath. It's never spoken about in public, much less celebrated in this way. When I realized what those couple I saw in your mind meant for the first time, I was shocked. It took me a very long time to come to terms with it enough that, while perhaps not being as comfortable with the matter as the Noldor, I'm no longer surprised in any way when I realized two elves I know are a couple in this sense. But I had your mind to guide me. Many from Doriath won't be comfortable with the Noldorin Select weddings taking place in this new realm. There were no weddings in New Havens, so they could still pretend the couples they saw were merely friendly, but this...it could become too much."

As he spoke, Galadriel's astonishment grew. To think that there was such a great difference in her and her husband's worlds, a difference she never knew about, a difference he must have actively kept from her...it was incredible, and it was also painful to accept. Where was trust, she wondered, where was intimacy? What did us resting in each other's mind even mean if we did not share all?

And, of course even more importantly, there was the matter of the Select themselves. Why were they denied this possibility to publicly express their love? What kind of strange and unjust custom it was? She was certain it must have been born in Thingol's mind – and now she remembered that Midhel had said Thingol did not like the idea of Beleg and Mablung together, and she, naive as she was, only thought it concerned the two of them in particular – but still, even for that king, it was incomprehensible. Why would anyone be offended by a public expression of love, one that did not cross any lines of decency? Sharing a bed in public would certainly be unacceptable, but this?

But Artanáro was there in his kingly function at the moment, and it was meant to be a political conversation, not a personal or ethical one, and so she pulled herself back to the surface of her thoughts for a while and said: "What you say is a very strange notion. I mean, Select weddings aren't only a matter of the Noldor. The Vanyar and the Teleri had them as well, in Aman."

"Truly? There were Select weddings in Aman? And Select couples living openly?"

This question amused Galadriel, in spite of how she felt otherwise. "Of course. What did you think my great-aunt and Lady Elemmírë were, if not wives?"

"I had assumed...close friends," he said in wonder, and Galadriel almost laughed. "It never occurred to me...well. That could, perhaps, change the approach of many of the Sindar, but ti would still take some time for them to get used to this new idea."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to give them that," Artanáro replied. "I believe I'm reasonably willing to accommodate, but I won't be party to any injustice, and this seems to me like a glaring case of such."

Celeborn sighed. "I did expect you'd see it that way, yes," he said. "I don't even entirely disagree. I merely wished to warn you."

"Consider me warned." He seemed to wish to say more, but Galadriel touched his mind with a soft request. She truly wished to speak with Celeborn alone as soon as possible. Surely the lenghty debate about political repercussions could be saved for another time? He gave her a look, and after a small hesitation, he simply nodded at them and left.

"Why have you never told me about this?" Galadriel asked Celeborn as soon as he was gone.

He sighed. "You lived in Doriath," he said. "I know you. You wouldn't be able to remain there in peace if you knew this, and merely leaving wouldn't have been enough for you as well. You'd have wished to change it, and...it wouldn't have ended well."

"That's quite a number of assumptions to make, and all to justify not telling me something so important!" Galadriel said in some animation.

"And are any of them false?" But then Celeborn sighed, and looked away. "Perhaps I was afraid, too."

"Afraid?"

"Yes, afraid that you'd reject my whole family and culture if I told you. I only realized this years into our marriage, and I simply..."

Galadriel frowned. "I love you. I'd never reject you, nor those who are dear to you, not entirely. But this lack of trust hurts me. Our minds are open to each other, Celeborn. It must have cost you much effort to hide this in the crevices of your mind, and yet you continued to do so through the centuries?"

He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. You're right, I...I'm so sorry. I think that, in the last century or so, I was only keeping it secret because I feared admitting that I've been keeping something from you." He paused, and swallowed. "Can you forgive me?"

What an absurd question. "Of course I can forgive you." She took his hand in hers, and he kissed it. "I was...am...surprised, and hurt, but there's nothing I couldn't forgive you given enough time, my love."

"Enough time?"

"The way I feel won't simply change immediately because you told me you were sorry," she replied. "But hopefully, it will do so soon."

He embraced her, and they stood like that for a moment. Then Galadriel thought back to the Select Sindar of Doriath, who were denied a wedding ceremony or any form of recognition, and suddenly her own feeling of betrayal was a complete trifle. "To imagine," she said, shaking her head, "that injustice like this took place in the realm of Lady Melian...I asked her, once, if there were any Select couples in Doriath. She said no. Didn't she know?"

Celeborn thought about it. "Rather, I believe that she...well. The word you use concerns couples that have had a wedding, doesn't it? And there were none like that in Doriath. I can't imagine she wouldn't have known...if, as Lord Círdan says, there are so many."

"I don't know," Galadriel muttered. "I think there are many things she didn't really understand about her own realm. It's as your grandmother used to say."

She could feel the pain going through Celeborn's mind, but aloud, he only said: "Not to understand and not to know are two different things. I wonder about this...I very much wonder."

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AN: Alas for the cultural clashes that happen 500 years into your marriage.

The Noldor lived in Valinor for a very long time, so I figured there should be no room for such absurdly harmful cultural practices like homophobia to develop (I mean, sexism did develop, clearly, but still, it its mostly benevolent form and more restrained than it was in actual human societies, at least in theory). Somewhere else, on the other hand...

And, this should go without saying, but do not send me any homophobic reviews or PMs. If the presence of gay relationships makes it impossible for you to read this story, than that's your right, but I have zero interest in hearing about it in my inbox, and I won't change my mind about including it no matter what you write, so...