Chapter 40: Wishes

Year 160 of the Second age, Sea City

"Your husband is very friendly with the future queen, is he not?" Tyelperinquar asked Galadriel one day after they finished discussing some of his new ideas for lighting the palace corridors.

"Yes," she agreed. "I am very glad, too – she hardly knew anyone here when she came, and of course she has Artanáro -"

"Or will have him, at any rate," Tyelperinquar said with a smirk. "Will you have some wine?"

Galadriel rolled her eyes at him, though she nodded to the wine. "I meant to talk to, though she will likely have him as her husband too, of course, in time, as soon as he stops being stubborn. But it is better to have someone apart from your intended to keep you company. And I am happy for Celeborn as well. After his family all perished or departed, he hardly had anyone but me."

There was a short silence, in which a strange expression crossed Tyelperinquar's face as he poured out. "You should not name her our future queen is such an easy and open manner," Galadriel added. "They are not even betrothed."

"No, but you know she will be queen as well as I do," he said, handing her the goblet.

"Unless something terrible happens," she agreed as she accepted it.

Tyelperinquar smiled. "You lived too long under the shadow of the Enemy," he said as he toasted her. "These lands are free now. What could possibly happen?"

"Let us not tempt fate, shall we? But no, I agree with you, it is unlikely. They have every chance of long, happy years ahead of themselves. That is why he does not rush, you know – he has the comfort of plenty of time."

They both drank and were silent for a moment as they enjoyed the full taste, then Tyelperinquar said: "I do not understand his attempts at keeping it quiet, to be honest – he spends so much time with her all must know, in any case."

Galadriel raised her eyebrows at him. "As much time as Celeborn spends with her, perhaps?"

He said nothing to that, and she shook her head. "You should not assume an intention to marry simply because a nis and a nér spend much time together. Ask Lord Laurefindil."

"Yes, well, it is different in his case."

"Not that different. There is only one person for which you will feel the Flame. All the rest of them are going to be your friends, if you are to spend time with them at all, so truly, the chances of a couple you see together being about to marry are actually quite small, whatever their genders."

"Oh very well!" He seemed frustrated. "Do we have to speak about not-future-queen Oreth? I find her...well. Difficult to understand."

Galadriel smiled. "You would," she said, "though she is also not entirely dissimilar to your mother." Or to what Galadriel imagined Midhel had been like before Curufinwë kidnapped her, at any rate.

"And who says I did not find my mother difficult to understand? But, well. She was my mother." He sighed. "And do not pretend that you find Lady Oreth easy to talk to."

"We are not close friends, no," Galadriel admitted freely, "but then, I do realize not everyone needs to like me." She paused. "In fact, in this she reminds me of Lady Ernil a little, and Lady Gelvil even more."

He frowned. "I have never truly seen you with Lady Gelvil," he said, "but I thought you were on good terms with Lady Ernil?"

"Well, our relationship was what I would call professional. We could work together well, but she was not especially fond of me. And she had one great advantage over Lady Oreth."

"What is that?"

"She was older than me," Galadriel replied with a smile. "I am aware I can be...overbearing, at times, and Lady Ernil was in a better position to keep me in check than Lady Oreth is."

Tyelperinquar frowned. "I do not think you are overbearing at all."

"Well, I am happy to hear that, but I also believe you tend to be rather uncritical of me, so..."

"I do think you are admirable," he admitted plainly. "I do not see how anyone could not. All the things you have gone through, and yet you still remain strong and unbroken."

Galadriel sighed. "You never see the wounds, because I do not wish to burden you with them."

"I did not say unwounded," he replied, "that would be impossible after the last age, but...unbroken."

She gave him a searching look. "You do not mean it as a contrast with your mother, do you?"

He flushed. "Well, no, I mean, not quite. What I want to say is, I do understand that what she went through was terrible, but I have always known her as broken and as someone I had to take care of, to a degree, and then I met you, so very strong, and..."

"You blame her for sailing," Galadriel realized.

"So do you!" He exploded.

"No," she said with emphasis, "I do not."

"Do not lie! I heard you talk to her, I heard you tell her you thought she would be healed..."

"Yes," Galadriel agreed, "but Tyelperinquar, and this is very important, your mother was right and I was wrong. She went through something dreadful, something I cannot even imagine, and it was natural she would want to sail. It is right that she has the chance, now, to heal in Aman. If you miss her, you should have gone with her."

"I did not want to sail! I had hoped that she could, perhaps, stay a few decades for me, and then we would sail together..."

"She stayed for you for two centuries," Galadriel told him sharply. "Do not dare pretending you are the hurt party here." She paused. "I always admired the way you cared for her," she said then. "I am surprised that..."

"But that is just it, do you not see? We were always together, always, all my life, and then..." He shook his head. "I just wish she was more like you."

This pronouncement made Galadriel furious. "Listen to me," she said. "Your mother was one of the strongest people I have known in my lifetime. Those who go through pain and suffering and find the strength to go on are always the strongest, and taking the chance at healing when they finally find it does not make them weak. It pains me, pains me deeply, that you would even suggest so."

She walked away from his chambers in anger and went outside to the gardens to calm herself. Once there, the fury gradually receded, leaving only tiredness in its wake.

She was upset, and yet, was this not very similar to how Artanáro felt about her and his father? Was she more upset in this case because she had been closer to Midhel than to Artaresto, or was it because she loved Artanáro better, and so found pleasure in his preference, and only irritation in Tyelperinquar's?

She exhaled. She needed to speak with Celeborn. He, she was sure, would know.

He was not to be found in their chambers, and Galadriel spent much time unproductively caught in her own thoughts before he came and she could explain the situation.

"No," he said then, "I don't believe that's the difference. You know Rodnor better than I do, of course, but if I understand it right, he blamed his father for the bitterness he fell into, chiefly the bitterness against you...he didn't blame him for weakness in the face of tragedy."

"But is there such a great difference? Was Orodreth's bitterness not simply one of the possible natural reactions?"

"But that's the crucial difference," Celeborn argued. "That's what indicates true strength. Not how soon you can stop weeping afterwards, or how unaffected you can act in public. It's whether you allow tragedy to turn you bitter."

"Do we have any right to judge, though?" She asked him urgently. "Aren't we doing the same as Celebrimbor when we say this? We've lost many, but we still have each other. The horror of losing you..."

"That's why we have sympathy for them, for Orodreth and Oropher and the others, but that doesn't mean we don't see their faults. Look at my grandmother. The wound grandfather's loss left on her soul was clear for anyone to see, and yet she was never embittered, and until her departure always tried to make Oropher see the error of his ways." He paused, and caressed her hand. "Don't regard it as your own judgement, if it makes you feel better. Think of what my grandmother said. And trust me, the difference isn't that you love Rodnor better: it's because of this difference that you love him better."

Celeborn looked at her intently, as if willing his words to have more strength, and Galadriel returned the look, smiling slightly in gratefulness. She was not sure she believed his words, but his trust helped her, and brought some calm to her soul.

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When the ship landed in Rómenna, the royal procession was already waiting for them.

Galadriel disembarked the ship at Elrond's side, and Elros stepped forward to welcome them. "Brother," he said, embracing him, and then: "Aunt." He held her tight for a moment, muttering: "It has been too long."

"You say that every time, and my answer is still the same: It is your own fault," she laughed after he let her go.

"You know I cannot afford to be away very often."

"Of course. That is not what I mean and you know it. I could have come here much earlier."

He seemed sheepish, and Galadriel smiled at him even more brightly to make sure he understood she was not serious. She could almost hear Findekáno's voice in her head: 'Nerwen faulting someone from being too proud? I never thought I would see the day.' But then her memories turned to Fëanáro, and so she made herself return to the present.

"What news from Middle-Earth?" The king asked once they all mounted their horses and set out for the capital.

"Many and multifold, but there is only one piece of truly big news that reached us: Amdír has left Oropher to found his own kingdom," Galadriel regaled him with the newest bit of gossip.

Elros' eyes widened, and then he shook his head, apparently amused. "I know I should not laugh," he said, "but really. They pompously departed not even a century and half ago, declaring that they want nothing to do with you – though not in so many words – and now they are arguing among themselves already? More then arguing, in fact, given how far it has gone? Do you know what happened?"

"No. Our messengers only brought the bare news, and we are unlikely to get more in the near future."

"Artanáro is worried," Elrond added. "For Thranduil, naturally. I think he saw Amdír as a kind of guarantee that someone will keep an eye on him, but now Thranduil is left effectively only in his father's care."

"You are aware, are you not, brother, that Thranduil is older than us?" Elros pointed out, still amused.

Elrond frowned. "But he is not half-elven. He was barely an adult at the beginning of the war, just like we were."

"Still. I have been ruling a realm for two hundreds of years now, so I think Thranduil can take care of himself."

"If you compare yourself to Thranduil," Galadriel interjected here, "then you have a lower opinion of yourself than I have thought."

Elros raised his eyebrows. "I thought it was only Oropher you had a quarrel with?"

"Yes. I truly do not have any dislike for Thranduil, though it cannot be denied that he inherited many of his father's character traits; but more importantly, he was raised by Oropher, shaped by him, with little enough outside influence, especially since they left. I do not know him, not as an adult, but I would be very surprised if you were not incomparable."

"Because I had your noble example to guide me?" Elros asked with soft irony.

Galadriel laughed, though the question made her a little uncomfortable as well. From Artanáro, she would have simply accepted it as a joke. But with Elros, the memories of him as a child were still too fresh, too much in her mind. She tried to push them away. He was right, he was a king now, has been for some time. Perhaps seeing him in his own land would help her realize it more fully. "That, too, of course," she said aloud, in good humour, "but I meant your brother, Artanáro, even Lord Laurefindil or Celeborn. You were surrounded by people who could guide you during your young years. Thranduil...well. You know how much Oropher isolated him."

"Let us be hopeful that Artanáro's influence in Thranduil's early ears left some mark, then," Elros replied.

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Crossing Númenórë to reach the capital, Galadriel looked at the land and began, slowly, to understand.

She had only ever known the Second-born in their refugee camps and small settlements, and while she had been aware for some time that their role in the world was different, but no less valuable than that of the elves, only setting her eyes on this beautiful island drove it home.

This was what the Second-born were always meant to be.

She also realized that this was why Elros waited for so long to ask her to come, that it was not pride, not truly, or if it was, it was pride in his people, pride in what they could be when given the chance. This world Galadriel now saw was truly different, yet no less wondrous and beautiful than what she knew from Narogrotto or Thousand Caves. This was a world she understood why Elros loved.

Armentos especially was truly a place worthy of admiration, very different from Sea City and yet no less breathtaking. The royal palace itself was even more so, and after Galadriel admired Elros' tower and the White Tree, she was led inside, where Elros' family was waiting.

"Aunt Galadriel," Vardamir welcomed her, stepping out with his hands outstretched, smiling. "I am very happy to see you here. Allow me to introduce my siblings, Princess Tindómiel, Prince Manwendil and Prince Atancalar."

Setting her eyes on them, Galadriel was taken aback, nay, almost shocked. Three noble-looking young second-born bowed to her, all fully grown and with easy grace of royal blood sitting on their brows. Tindómiel and Manwendil were fair like their mother, while Atalancar, like his eldest brother, inherited Elros' colouring. Galadriel had known, theoretically, that they were all adults, but seeing it with her own eyes was another thing entirely, and it pushed her a step frther on the way to understanding.

"And I believe," Vardamir continued, "you have not yet met my betrothed? This is Lady Ailinel."

The lady he gestured to was tall for a woman and as dark-haired as he was, and seemed serious as she curtseyed. "My lady," she said.

"Lady Ailinel," Galadriel said with a nod, her head still reeling a little from all these realizations. "It is a pleasure.

"Likewise. I have heard much about you."

"And I about you," Galadriel managed to say. "I am very eager to get to know you better."

Elros, who had been watching her carefully for a time now, touched her elbow. "Come," he said, "I will lead you to your chambers, so that you have enough time to prepare for the feast."

Galadriel inclined her head. "I will meet you there again, then, Lady Ailinel," she said.

Once they were out of earshot, Elros slowed down and asked: "What is it, Aunt?"

"It is nothing, only...I am overwhelmed." She admitted. "Your realm is truly beautiful, and you were right to have me wait this long. It makes me understand many things better, and that requires some adjustments in my mind. But also...I am well aware that you took the fate of Men, Elros, but...your four children are grown men and women now, and will soon have children of their own. While to me, it seems like yesterday that I was wandering through the wilderness with you and the Feanorioni, and teaching you how to fight."

"Sometimes it seems like yesterday to me as well," he admitted. "And other times, I grow impatient with the world and wish to be free of it."

"Elros, surely-"

"No, do not worry, Aunt, I believe there are many years left to me still. Less for Adanel, though, and that weights heavily on me."

"Pray and hope, beloved. I do not know the intentions of the Valar in this, but I do know that Beren and Lúthien, at least, were granted the mercy of dying together. It might be given to you as well."

He frowned. "That would be easy enough," he said, "since I and my descendants have been granted the grace of dying when we choose. What I fear is that there will still be much to do when Adanel wishes to depart, and I will not be able to leave with her."

"You told me you believed you would be able to – and, indeed, desirous to – let go of this world. Are you beginning to doubt that?"

"No. It is responsibility I fear, not sentimental attachment. Surely you understand that, Aunt?"

"Do you not trust your children?"

"Not as much as I feel I should." He shook his head. "How did you do it, simply letting Artanáro become the ruler? I understand now how difficult it must have been."

"Easier for me than for you, I believe. It was never my kingdom. Yes," she added, contemplating the problem, "looking at it from this point of view, letting my own kingdom pass into another's hands would seem like an almost impossible feat to me. But then, it is not a situation the elves can find themselves in under usual circumstances. I am not sure I can help you here, beloved. The only thing my wisdom tells me is that perhaps the weariness of the world that is supposed to come with age for you will make even that easier. Perhaps you will tire of governing."

Elros gave a dry laugh. "I sometimes tire of it already!"

They walked in silence for a moment, then he said: "So what do you think? Of Ailinel, I mean?"

Galadriel gave him an amused look. "We barely had enough time to exchange greetings before you took me away."

He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry," he said. "It is only that I worry."

"Well, I do understand she is not your kind of person – she seems very serious, and very different from Adanel – but surely she is a good match for Vardamir?"

"That is what I worry about. It is not that she is not the bride I would have chosen, but...well, Vardamir does not feel the Flame."

Galadriel raised her eyebrows. "Well, you knew that was likely to happen."

"Yes, but...what if he chooses wrong? I never had to ask myself this question, and you know it is of monumental importance in his case."

"I would venture to say that choosing a spouse is monumental in everyone's case."

"You know what I mean," he retorted a little impatiently. "It will determine his fate. He could still choose to be judged with the elves. If he marries Ailiniel, he and all of his descendants will be counted among Men, unless perhaps if one of them marries an elf. This is the last generation that has the choice."

Galadriel gave him a sharp look. "Elros," she said, "did you want him to marry an elf?"

He exhaled. "Perhaps I did," he admitted. "You know about my doubts as regards his suitability as king, and if he simply married an elf, it would have been solved. He would have given up the crown, naturally, and accepted the elven fate. He would have felt the Flame, so there would have been no need to worry about this being the right choice. And given his close friendship with Elrond, I thought it could suit him. As it is...what if he is throwing away his immortality for a woman only to find out he did not choose well?"

"Throwing it away?" Galadriel was shocked, and worried. "Surely you do not mean that...our fates are two equal choices, Elros."

"Do you truly think so?" He asked archly.

"You do! You told me yourself that you were not afraid of death!"

He exhaled. "Not for myself, no. But to think of my children dying...well, that is a different thing entirely.

"Do you have a reason to believe Vardamir will not be happy with the fate of Men? Is he so different from your people? Surely you must know that they would not fare well in immortality."

"I do. Though I ask myself...why is that? Is that because our minds are not strong enough for it?"

"Do you regret your choice?" Galadriel asked in fear.

He shook his head. "Perhaps it is truly only that I am not able to free myself from the values of my elvish upbringing."

She sighed, and pressed his hand. "Then trust your wife in this. How does she feel?"

"Oh, Adanel is perfectly content with Vardamir's choice. But then she has such a happy nature that she is content with most things." He gave her a slightly sad smile. "So did I, once upon a time. Kingship brings too many worries."

"Come," Galadriel said. "Your son is getting married in a month, and I will have you glad by the time the celebration takes place."

This task, however, proved to be more complicated than she had expected. Elros was very busy, and so most days, the situation was the precise opposite: it was him who was arranging for entertainment for her, as if it was her who needed cheering.

On one such occasion, a few days after her arrival, Princess Tindómiel was sent to her to accompany her to Eldalondë to show her the apparently very beautiful bay and harbour.

"They sent me," she declared cheerfully as they set out, "because out of them all, I am the only one who leaves Armenos with any regularity. Really, I think I know every inch of the Bay of Eldanna. It is, beyond a doubt, the most beautiful place on this island, and I go there often."

"Do you like travelling, then?" Galadriel asked politely, thinking fleetingly of Irissë, even though this princess of Men, with blond hair, rosy cheeks and eyes like early morning sky, could not look any less like her had she tried.

"Well...I like exploring," Tindómiel replied. "I like discovering new things, be they beautiful places or new exciting books or...anything, truly. I hope to one day know the rest of this island as well as I know Armenos and Bay of Eldanna, and then I hope to go to Middle-Earth as well."

"It would perhaps help in this," Galadriel pointed out with a smile, "if you did not repeatedly go to Eldanna."

Tindómiel laughed. "You are right, of course, esteemed Aunt," she said. "But, well, it is so very beautiful."

It was. Galadriel was left speechless when she saw it, for while the rest of Númenórë was as beautiful as any elven realm in Middle-Earth, the bay of Eldanna was more, it was Aman outside of Aman, and it was staggering. She felt, for a moment, as if she was back in the West, back in her young years of innocence. There even, if she saw rightly, were some mellyrn growing there.

The Valar have truly rewarded the Second born well for their steadfastedness.

Galadriel had to fight the desire to simply stay there, to never leave, to enjoy the blessed state of this land. It was not meant for you, she had to tell herself. You are here merely as a guest. You will have to leave again, because this is theirs, and you will not take it from them.

"I find it curious that you have havens here," she said, forcing herself to concentrate on something outside of her desire to stay. "I mean, as far as I know, you are not allowed to sail West…?"

"No," Tindómiel agreed, "but elves from the West have come to us a few times."

Galadriel turned around so quickly she almost fell off her horse. "Elves from the west come to see you here?" She asked, shocked.

"Well...as I have said, it only happened as few times, just thrice as far as I can remember...and they are not from Valinor proper, but rather from Tol Eressëa, if I understand the situation..."

"But they could...if they wanted, elves from the West could come here?" The visions of seeing her mother again, both of her parents, truly, or Itarillë and Elwing...it was making her drunk with hope.

Tindómiel frowned. "Father talked about this once, but I do not remember it very well, since it was not truly important to me. If I recall correctly, he said that they the Valar do not wish for the elves who have close kin or friends here to meet with them on our island, so they only let those from Tol Eressëa come. The elves who have been reembodied are banned outright from leaving Aman, I think, and the rest are strongly discouraged at least. That was how Father explained why his parents will not come. They would be disobeying the Valar, he said. I remember that it seemed strange to me – I mean, he was their child."

Galadriel could hardly hear what Tindómiel was saying, her head was spinning from the hope she had gained and lost again. "They barely knew them," she said in a daze. "Elwing and Ardamírë, I mean. They barely knew their children before they were separated. It is not the same as you and your parents."

Tindómiel replied something, but Galadriel was too lost in her thoughts. Of course the Valar would wish to punish her in this way as well, of course they would not allow her parents to even meet with her, and of course her parents would never disobey them. If it was Ñolofinwë, she could not help but think, he would come, no matter how much he was discouraged. But then again, precisely because of this, it was Ñolofinwë and not her father who was now in the Halls of Mandos, with no chance of coming to see her, and no knowledge of when he would be released.

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AN: I was thinking, well, Dior the Half-Elven married Nimloth the Full Elf, and their child was still counted as Half-Elven. So if the two kindreds are truly to be seen as equal, when Elros the Half-Elven marries Adanel the Full Human, their child should still be counted as Half Elven as well. But since it clearly isn't a "one drop policy" kind of deal – the last kings of Númenor obviously had no choice between the two fates – I decided that this would be the last generation when there'd a choice, unless relativized by another "cross-species" marriage. I mean, Half-Elven Elros marries a full human, so if his quarter-elven son then marries another human, their children and their descendands will be fully human, no questions asked. But if his quarter-elven son married an elf, well, then their child would be back to half-elven. An the same for Elrond's line: Elladan still had a choice, being quarter-human, but if he marries an elf, then their children will be pure elves, no questions asked. Arwen's children with Aragorn should still get a choice by this logic, and be counted as half-elven.

I do realize that the actual story sounds more like it went away after just one generation in case of Men, but that really seems to sort of privilege elvenkind in a way I seriously dislike, so...

Oh and because I'm super productive when a deadline approaches, there is another story on my tumblr, this one about Idril and writing the hymn to Elbereth. barbarakaterina. tumblr post/143686476233 (or, if you don't feel like copying the numbers, just look into the 'the nolde verse' tag.)