Chapter 41: Weddings

Year 250 of the Second Age, Caras Aear

Galadriel stood atop the highest tower of Artanáro's palace, looking towards the western seas.

Then she turned and looked towards Middle-Earth instead, trying to discern its vast forests and high mountains in the distance.

And then, just before she descended, she looked bellow, to the palace gardens and the coast that surrounded it.

It was, she had to admit, a thing of beauty. The white sands of the beach flowed seamlessly into the white sands of garden paths, among which trees and flowers grew. Then there were benches and arbours, and behind them, the dazzlingly white walls of the palace, carved so that it seemed almost like the gardens continued. And the palace itself, so, its reliefs almost seeming to be made of lace, so well-worked they were, and the multiple terraces, overlooking the sea. Yes, Caras Aear was a place of beauty.

She sighed as she descended the stairs. It was a place of beauty, but she still missed forests and mountains, and deep down felt the burning desire to have her own land close to these. Perhaps it was time to go on that expedition she had promised Elrond years ago.

She met him down in the gardens, finding her way among the many children who played there. There were scores of children in Lindon now, because peace and prosperity made elves desirous of giving life. "It is almost like the Second born, is it not?" Elrond said, smiling, when he reached her. "So many children, and so quickly."

"I remember this from Aman," she replied as they began to walk back. "It was like that there, for elves found their loves easily and had no reason to hesitate with bringing children into the world. Time passed slower there in many ways, of course, so children were not born so quickly, but there were more of us, too, so in numbers it looked similar. And you are right, I have not seen such a state with elves ever since we reached Middle-Earth. It fills me with joy."

"Especially given the joy it brought to Artanáro!"

Galadriel laughed and shook her head. "Not yet, but I hope he will finally stop hesitating. I understand his misgivings, but Oreth has been a full adult for a century and a half now. And it is not like Artanáro is my age."

"He is still twice Oreth's age," Elrond pointed out.

"Something that would have been a true problem had she been forty and he eighty, but Artanáro was scarcely older than she is when he became king. That should be enough to convince him she is old enough to marry. They are unnecessarily losing time, because he fears what his subjects will say. And meanwhile, the whole land is waiting with anticipation for the moment their king turns his betrothal into a marriage, wishing to finally be able to congratulate him. He has spoken of it many times already, and then suddenly he changes his mind again, fearing his personal desires are clouding his conscience!"

"I do agree with you, really, only I understand his hesitation as well. But, in any case, the symbolism of him marrying a daughter of his new kingdom is beautiful to my mind, whenever it happens. It speaks of hope."

"Yes, and of a bright future. I know what you mean. The only one left to convince is him!"

They both laughed as they entered the terrace of Elrond's chambers. It was pleasant that this was their most burning problem. The king would marry his lady love in time, and there was no hurry, so it was truly only a matter of friendly banter, trying to convince him that waiting 'another few years' was unnecessary.

"How does the library fare?" She asked.

"Most of the works we have commissioned are done," he replied. "And Artanáro was right, Erestor truly was an excellent choice for the head librarian. The only thing that worries me is that he will never wish for anyone to take any of his precious books away!"

Galadriel laughed. "I should find some time to go and talk to the young elf," she said, "when both you and Artanáro are so happy with him."

"It still surprises me that you do not know him. I mean, he left Hithlum with you, before the last battle, from what he says."

"Beloved, there were at least a thousand elves who left with me that day, and he was very young at that time, was he not?"

"Yes...barely forty, from what he said. His mother was a cousin of one of your healers, that is how they knew to go."

"Did he say which one?" Galadriel asked with interest.

"No..."

"Then I will certainly ask him. I did not know all of them as well as I should have, but I did know their names." She smiled. "And that brings us to our purpose today, even though I am afraid I will soon have nothing more to teach you about healing."

He shook his head. "I can hardly believe it. I remember you saying that you never stopped learning from Lady Melian, the whole time you lived in Doriath."

"Yes, but for one, your learn more quickly than I ever did-"

"Truly?" He asked, surprised.

"Yes. You have true natural inclination and talent for this, beloved, while I mostly have a lot of power, generally speaking, and excellent training. And also, it was merely four hundred years that I spent in Doriath. We are approaching that mark, you know."

Elrond's eyes widened. "You are right," he said. "When I hear the multitude of stories...well, it seems like the First Age lasted so long, but..."

"...but we are at almost half of its mark now. Yes. It is strange, even for me. It seems time should pass more slowly in peace, and yet...it is as with Aman a little. In joy and happiness, we do not count the days."

"Artanáro does," Elrond said with a mischievous smile.

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Galadriel did go to speak with Erestor, as soon as her healing session with Elrond was done. She found him busy at work, and when he raised his head to see who entered his library, he bowed. Galadriel wondered if it was only her impression, or if there was something a little mocking, a little ironic in that bow. "Greetings, my lady," he said, respectfully enough.

"Greetings, Erestor," she returned.

"To what do I owe this honour?"

"I have heard much about you from both Artanáro and Elrond, and so I wished to speak to you in person."

"So an honour indeed."

Galadriel tilted her head to the side. "You seem to be...less than thrilled by my presence."

"Well, I was working, but of course I am always happy to make time for the Lady Galadriel."

Galadriel was rather unpleasantly reminded of Curufinwë, but decided to persevere. Similar mannerisms did not necessarily indicate similar nature. "I will not keep you for long," she said. "I chiefly came to ask about your kin. Elrond told me that you are related to one of my healers from Hithlum, and that made me curious. Who is it?"

Erestor gave her a long, measuring look. "Brannor," he said then.

The world seem to go out of focus for a moment, and Galadriel swayed a little and had to catch herself on Erestor's desk. "I am sorry," she muttered, fighting her unexpected dizziness.

"Yes, so am I, my lady," Erestor replied in an eerily even tone. "I fought in the Third Kinslaying, you know, by his side. He died defending me."

Galadriel closed her eyes for a moment.

"I had hoped," Erestor continued, "to be a healer like him, when I was older, but alas, that possibility is now taken from me."

The Nolde frowned. "You can still become a healer, even though you have killed," she said. "Elrond has, and-"

"Yes," Erestor replied, "but has he killed elves?"

Galadriel had no answer for that.

"My father, of course," he continued, still in that same even tone, "died in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, fighting on the orders of that accursed son of Fëanáro. My uncle was killed by one of his men, and my mother sailed because of all the suffering they have caused." He paused, and gave her another long, measuring look. "What was it like, my lady, wandering in the wilderness with them for so long?"

Galadriel narrowed her eyes at him, his bitterness pulling her out of her grief a little. "You have wanted to ask me this for a long time, have you not?"

"Yes," he admitted plainly. "It is a serious question, my lady. I remember your from Hithlum enough, and trust the king and Lord Elrond enough, to not quite believe that you were on the kinslayers' side. But why did you go with them, then?"

"And what would you have me do?" She asked him archly, unable to help herself. "Fight with my cousins? Kill them?"

"Better that than have them kill others, is it not? My lady?"

She frowned at him. "I do not have to justify myself to you," she said, part of her wishing to simply leave, the other part feeling the need to explain, in honour of Brannor's memory. "Hoping that it will help to bring you peace, I will say this: Nelyafinwë was one of my best friends for hundreds of years. If there was anything I could do to avoid having to hurt him, I would."

"Even if it saved other lives?"

Galadriel had never had this confrontation with Oropher, who preferred to speak behind her back. Now, when the accusations were said to her face, and by one whose grief was not so fresh any longer, she chose to go on a little further. "I did not stand by and let them kill others," she said. "In fact, it was me who stood between them and Elwing, and them and Elros and Elrond."

"And then you went with them peacefully, my lady." It must have been some unique ability that made Erestor say 'my lady' as if it was an insult.

"Because the other choice was going to Balar and have them follow me, lead them to the last hidden settlement," Galadriel tried. "I would never do that. Or I could have stayed in the wilderness alone with the twins, but there was too much risk in that. I am powerful, but not so much that I could be sure to protect them both from any danger alone. The lands were teeming with orcs." She shook her head. This was too much like Oropher, from what she knew of Celeborn's arguments with him. "I have lived this before, and I know well that if you do not wish to believe, you will not. So just allow me to tell you one thing...it is not only that you have killed elves, what prevents you from becoming a healer. It is the hatred in your heart, too."

He laughed bitterly. "Should I love the sons of Fëanáro?"

"No. You never knew them. But let go of your hate. It was centuries ago, and your uncle is now happily walking in Aman, I am sure, for all the good deeds he has done, while the sons of Fëanáro will never be released."

"If the Valar have any justice at all, it is so," he agreed. "But-"

Just in that moment, the door opened and Artanáro strode in. Erestor immediately bowed, and Galadriel smiled.

"Elrond told me I might find you here," he said. His eyes flicked to Erestor. "Everything all right?"

Galadriel frowned for a moment, and then she realized: "You knew. You knew Erestor was Brannor's cousin."

"Yes," he admitted.

"Why did you not tell me?"

"Because I also knew about his other views."

Galadriel shook her head. "You give me too little credit. You should have known I would have wished to talk to him nevertheless."

"Yes, and I am sorry." He turned to Erestor. "I should apologize to you as well, I feel, since I gave you too little credit too. I feared you could say...something you would regret later."

"No need to apologize, my king," Erestor replied, that sarcastic smile gracing his lips again. "Your fear was not entirely unjustified."

Artanáro looked alarmed again, and turned his eyes back to Galadriel, who shook her head. "Nothing particularly offensive was said," she stated. "And perhaps I have even managed to explain some things, and issue a warning that might be heard. No harm was done."

Artanáro smiled. "That is good, for I have happy news, and I would not wish them spoiled by strife among you." He paused. "I have finally decided to set the date for the wedding."

"Oh, again?" Galadriel asked with a small laugh.

"No, it is definite this time. We have arranged it with Oreth. We will be wed next Spring Equinox."

That truly did sound hopeful. "I like the date," Galadriel said. "I assume you will want Celeborn to take care of the official aspects?"

"Yes, I already spoke to him. I do not have much real hope Oropher will come, but I have to ask him. Perhaps me having a Sindarin wife will soften him."

"I would not count on that. But Amdír, at least, will likely come."

"Perhaps he could take Amroth and Thranduil with him?"

"The chance that Oropher will let Thranduil go without him is even smaller than that he will come himself, but keep your hope, beloved."

He shook his head at her. "I have to go prepare for the council," he said, "so I do not have the time to argue with you, but do not spoil my wedding for me in advance!"

He left the library, and she went with him. Once they had relative privacy in the corridor, he added: "Perhaps after this is done with, Celeborn will finally be able to meet with Oreth without fear of sending tongues waggling."

Galadriel was amused. "Celeborn did not feel limited by the gossip in any way, and if you think it will stop because both of them will be married, well, then you are very naive for a king."

He frowned. "But...surely you are aware of what the gossip said?"

"A variety of things."

"Well, what they brought to me was that Celeborn regretted his marriage to you, and that he wished he could be with Oreth instead, and that she returned his feelings. Surely if that was true, she would not marry me?"

Galadriel smirked. "They will say that, knowing she had no chance with him, she decided she can just as well marry someone else, and why not you? That would give her queenship. Do not underestimate people's capacity for gossip."

"Do you mind?" He asked after a moment.

"On some level," she admitted. "But mostly because it offends me, I think, that people would speak so. I am so very happy that Celeborn found a good friend in Lady Oreth after so many of his family died, and the thought that they would spoil that for him if they could…I cannot bear it." She paused. "Do you mind?"

"I mind because Oreth does," he answered simply.

"Well, she is young," Galadriel allowed. "I can see why she would."

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Many noble guests arrived for the wedding. Amdír was among them, so Celeborn was happily using the opportunity to talk to his distant kin, and Galadriel found others to spend time with. Elros came with all of his sons – to Galadriel's regret, Tindómiel, who she became friendly with in her recent visits to the island, stayed behind to care for the kingdom - but there were Lord Ciryatan and his suite, too. They arrived in ornate boats, Arminas sitting with his lord, and Galadriel and Ambë welcomed them with due respect at the shore. "Rodnor is quite busy at the moment, I'm afraid," the Nolde said, "so I hope you'll make do with us."

"Of course, my lady," Lord Ciryatan replied. "It's a pleasure as always."

Arminas bowed, and as they set out, Ambë did not hesitate to step to her uncle's side and hook her arm with his, eager to talk, making Galadriel naturally fall into step with Arminas.

"How are things in Grey Havens?" She asked.

"They are well, thank you, my lady."

"Does Lord Ciryatan miss his niece much?"

"He does," Arminas conceded. "But I do my best to make it up to-" But then he paused, and looked mortified.

"What is it?" Galadriel asked him, amused.

"I should not...disclose Lord Ciryatan's private matters," he said after a moment of hesitation.

"Private matters? I know well you are friends, and I do not see why you should try to conceal it."

Arminas, however, shook his head. "Perhaps he will tell you what I mean one day," he said. "Until then, it is not my place."

"You have me intrigued now, but I will not make you uncomfortable and will not pry. Instead, tell me more about life in Grey Havens."

He smiled, still a little tense, and shrugged. "There is little enough to tell, my lady. Small groups are beginning to appear who wish to sail, something that has not happened since the very beginnings of this age. Those who have only wished to stay a little while, to witness Middle-Earth without the Enemy, are departing. I am sure you have seen the ships."

"We have," Galadriel agreed, "though we only know for certain they have not been sailing to Númenórë when they do not return." The thought of Númenórë made her swallow. "Have you had any contact with Lord Ciryatan's kin from Tol Eressea?"

"No – I have not sailed to Númenórë, and neither has he. He says that he does not wish to see the elves of Aman until he is ready to sail to Aman. He seems to consider the idea dangerous."

"He agrees with the Valar, then."

"Yes, surprising, is it not?" Arminas said, and then caught himself again.

Galadriel shook her head. "You need not be so very careful," she said. "I do not find your references to Lord Ciryatan disrespectful."

"He is my lord," Arminas replied stonily. "I should maintain my proper distance."

Galadriel sighed. She wondered if Itarillë had had to overcome this sort of obstacles too, when she first became friendly with Lord Laurefindil.

They reached the palace, and Galadriel bid goodbye to Arminas, having a few things about the new guests' presence to arrange. When she was finally free again, she went in search of Lord Ciryatan to greet him properly, and to her surprise, found him not with Ambë, but sitting in the gardens with Lord Laurefindil. "My lords," she said, "I hope I'm not interrupting?"

Lord Laurefindil shot a quick look to Lord Ciryatan, who smiled. "Not at all," he said. "Do sit with us. We were just discussing the situation of the Select in Lindon. It has become a very important topic for me, for it concerns me now."

"Does some of your kin wish to make a Select marriage?" Galadriel asked.

"No," he replied serenely. "I do."

"Oh." Galadriel was not sure what else to say. She remembered Lord Ciryatan stating that his views of the Select used to be less than favourable. What must that feel like?

"Arminas, who used to be of your brother's people, became very dear to me," he added.

"My heartfelt congratulations, then," she said, very many things suddenly falling into place and making sense. She smiled, hoping he considered it an appropriate reaction. She certainly did. "Have you set a date?"

Lord Ciryatan sighed. "We are not that far yet. Arminas dearly wishes to do so, but it is not quite so easy for me. It still feels...wrong, somehow."

Here it was, then. "But there have been Select wedding in Grey Havens in the last century or two, have they not?" Galadriel assured herself.

"Yes. I even presided over some of them. It would have been hypocritical not to, when I knew how I felt, by that time. But...it is still different, when it concerns me." Lord Ciryatan paused. "I am over five thousand years old, my lady, and for most of that time I have lived in a world where Select relationships were regarded as shameful secrets. And I'm the lord of my people, many of whom remember those years as well as I do. It won't be easy, standing in front of them and announcing that I had this – well, what many regard as disability."

"You know it isn't so, however," Galadriel pointed out. He seemed to know it now, at any rate. "Have any of your people protested the marriages that already took place?"

"There are those who are unhappy with them, yes. I believe some of them are planning to leave with Amdír, to be able to live in a 'proper realm' as they said."

Galadriel laughed, and at Lord Ciryatan's questioning look, said: "I spoke to Celeborn. Amdír told him that one of the shocks they had to work through, when they founded their kingdoms full of Silvan elves, was how completely normal Select relationships were among them. If they wanted to be accepted as rulers, they had to accept these customs in turn. He said he'd never seen Oropher so frustrated in his life."

"And King Amdír didn't mind?" Lord Laurefindil asked with interests.

"Not that much, apparently. Amdír was never quite so personally loyal to Thingol, and lived outside the capital most of his life, too. I have a sneaking suspicion that there might have been things going on in other regions of his realm that Thingol didn't know about."

Lord Ciryatan thought about it. "You may well be right," he said. "There'd have been no weddings, but it might have been a little more like Falas, with the relationships being quietly tolerated." He considered. "I believe I'll go talk to King Amdír about this, to understand the background better."

He departed, and Galadriel smiled at Lord Laurefindil. "If Lord Ciryatan marries Arminas," she said, "then hopefully it will help wipe out the rest of this silly prejudice. People respect him."

"Let us hope they will continue to do so," Lord Laurefindil muttered, but then he shook his head. "No, I do believe you are right, my lady."

"Shall we congratulate our kin, then?"

They found Arminas with Ambë, laughing together. Galadriel smiled at the picture. "Can we interrupt for a moment, to speak to the lord?" She asked.

Ambë inclined her head and watched them curiously as they turned to Arminas. "We wished to congratulate you," Galadriel said, "in place of my brother, who can no longer do so, on your upcoming marriage."

He smiled, and looked very relieved. "Thank you, my lady," he said, "I'm glad Ciryatan told you. It will free me from some conversational constraints, which I am certain you noticed. But I am not sure if congratulations on an upcoming marriage are not a little premature. I am not wholly certain it will take place."

"Oh, I am. There is no telling when – it might well take Lord Ciryatan a while to make up his mind – but it will. And the Enemy is gone now...there is no rush."

He nodded. "Yes. Well, thank you again, my lady. It was kind of you. I...miss your brothers."

She sighed. "So do I, believe me. But I have hope that Angaráto, at least, walks in Aman again, and that calms me somewhat."

"I wish there was a way to know for sure. That the elves from Tol Eressëa would speak about this."

"There might be a good reason not to. Ways of the Valar are often mysterious to us, and it could be...upsetting to find out that such as we hoped would already be released were still among the living. No, I believe it is better not knowing...but I sometimes wish we did as well."

"Come, let's not be so grim," Ambë interrupted them in Sindarin. She understood Quenya, but did not speak it, much like Celeborn. "We should be joyful! The king is getting married – finally – and my uncle finally admitted his feelings for Arminas, at least semi-publicly. These are all good news!"

"I value your support, my lady," Arminas said.

"There was never any doubt of it," Ambë replied. "You know how much I love my uncle."

"Have you known for long?" Galadriel asked curiously.

"I can see his mind, so I suspected, and the last time I was in Grey Havens, I finally confronted him about it."

"I believe your intervention had been crucial to his decision to share the nature of our relationship at least with some, and to begin contemplating marriage," Arminas added. "So I'm thankful for that, as well."

"I have some experience with waiting too long, and denying yourself love," Ambë muttered. "I would not wish it on my worst enemy."

Galadriel embraced her, and Arminas said: "Come, my lady. You said we should be more cheerful!"

"True," Ambë muttered through the tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm being hypocritical. Come, some cheerful topics, quickly!"

"Elros told me about the argument among this children about who'd come to the wedding and who'd stay at home and run the kingdom," Galadriel remembered.

"Well then," Lord Laurefindil said with a smile, "what are you waiting for, my lady?"