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?

45. Decisions

AN: Chapters to make up for the missing updates: 2/3.

-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-

Chapter 45: Decisions

Year 635 of the Second Age, Caras Aear

"You said you'd think about my advice," Ambë observed as the king's council ended and its members slowly began to file out of the room, "but it seems you haven't taken it to heart. Almost a century has passed, and you still aren't speaking to Celebrimbor, are you?"

"No," Galadriel admitted, "not outside of council, when not strictly necessary."

"Are you still so angry?"

Galadriel shook his head. "I am angry, a little, yes, but...what you said is true," she admitted, "however, there's also a difference between our cases. Given the nature of my...disagreement with him, I simply can't be the first to go to him. Surely you see that?"

Ambë considered. "I do," she agreed. "But there must be a way..."

"If you know of one, then please, do let me know. I've been trying to solve this riddle for some years now." She wanted to continue, but noticed Gildor was hesitating by the door, apparently waiting for one of them, and so she nodded at Ambë with an implied promise to speak later and departed.

Gildor went with her, and on the way, said: "My lady, I simply wanted...well, to apologize."

"For what?"

"For...not intending to go with you to Hollin."

She gave him a surprised look. "Why should you apologize for that? Artanáro is your king. I never expected you to go."

"Yes, but...well. It was you who saved us from Narogrotto. I feel as if I owe you loyalty as well. Until now, there was no conflict, but..."

She sighed. "Gildor, I would never blame you for staying. If you ever choose to come and visit, I will be happy to see you, but do not feel obligated. Besides, someone who remembers the old days should stay on the council."

He seemed taken aback by this remark. "Lord Laurefindil will stay, will he not?"

"Almost certainly, yes. But...well. He remembers Aman as well as I do, of course, but he spent most of the First Age in Ondolindë. That experience is very different from what the rest of the Noldor lived through. Of course, Artanáro was there already for most of the biggest events, but still. In you, as in me, there is an uninterrupted memory of us fighting the long defeat in the First Age, and I do believe it is important."

Gildor smiled. "Thank you, my lady. I sometimes feel...well, a little superfluous in the council, and I am happy to hear you find me so crucial."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "There are only eight people on the king's council," she said. "Had I thought you unnecessary, I would never have suggested you. Stay here, and take care of Lindon for me."

Gildor laughed. "As my lady commands."

It had been, Galadriel mused, relatively common in the past decades for people to stop her to express their plans regarding Hollin, though more often it was to tell her they would go with her. It had started with individuals – fortunately, others who wished to go had less problematic reasons than Tyelperinquar – but soon enough, whole groups began to pledge themselves too. The first was represented by Brannor's eldest daughter, and after bowing respectfully, she had said: "We will, of course, go with you, my lady."

"We?"

"All of us that are left from your healing apprentices from Hithlum and their families."

"All?" Galadriel asked sharply.

Aseanettë blushed. "Well...not Erestor, no," she admitted. "A few others will stay with him, but...most of us will go. Our loyalty has been to you for a long time now, and we will gladly follow you to your new kingdom."

Galadriel smiled at her as she considered, not for the first time, how much people with similar experiences could differ. Aseanettë never blamed her for Brannor's death, nor did either of her sisters. But it was true that they did not fight in the Kinslaying, and they did not see Brannor die with their own eyes. "Good thing, then," she said, "that I taught Elrond all I knew about healing."

-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-

Galadriel handed Maewel her newborn daughter, now all washed and wrapped in blankets, and the princess gave her a tired smile in return. Oreth, the only other person in the room, leaned over to see her grandchild better, and Galadriel rose to give them space. Even after all her years of living among the Sindar, it was still strange to her how private they liked to keep the birth. Among the Noldor, at least Sarnel and Oreth's grandmother and great-grandmother would have been present as well, if not her husband's female relations. And from what she remembered from the Vanyar births in Aman, the entire female household always shared in the joy of new life. But the Sindar mostly liked the delivery itself to be small, and so Galadriel would respect that.

"No, Lady Galadriel, wait," the Queen said as she was leaving, however, and the Nolde stopped, surprised.

"I will go with you for a while, and let the new father take joy in his child," Oreth added, and they exited the room, nodding for Nemiron to enter.

Galadriel assumed there was a reason behind the Queen accompanying her, so she waited, knowing by now that was the best way to approach talks with Artanáro's wife.

"I...Celeborn told me what Celebrimbor accused us of," Oreth said at length, after they walked together almost all the way to the gardens.

Galadriel nodded stiffly. "I'm aware." Would Oreth attempt to apologize, after all this time, she wondered? She hoped not.

"I've also heard a remark from Amonel," the Queen continued, providing an explanation for why she was mentioning it now, "along the lines of you hoping for him to come and apologise. I wished to consult..." She hesitated. "Do you believe an apology should be demanded?"

Galadriel gave her a surprised look. "Surely that's up to you?"

Oreth gave a very small sigh. "Rodnor insists. He says that he can't bear Celebrimbor being around without ever apologizing, and yet doesn't wish to expel him from the council, so he thinks simply demanding an apology is the best solution."

"Well, it's a solution Rodnor would prefer, I can see that. It's one that suits his nature."

The Queen gave her a half-surprised, half-amused look. "Do you know that's much the same thing that I told him? I dislike confrontations and don't want to do any such thing, but, well, I don't wish to ignore his discomfort either. I considered asking Celeborn to demand an apology instead of me, but I think he refrains out of respect for your wishes. So I hoped to know your opinion. Do you believe either of us should ask for an apology?"

Galadriel considered. There was no way to answer this without sharing some more. "What exactly did Celeborn and Rodnor tell you?" She asked.

Oreth grimaced a little at having to repeat it. "That Celebrimbor believed that there's...desire between us, and that he found it appropriate to discuss with you."

Galadriel nodded. She knew this, but had wondered whether they had not shared more lately. "It was worse," she said. "There's a reason Celebrimbor believes these rumours...because it suits his own desires."

It took Oreth only a moment to understand. "I see," she said then, her expression becoming even more impenetrable than usual. "And did you demand an apology?"

"Not outright," Galadriel said slowly, "I simply made my anger obvious. I believe it should be understood without me having to say it."

Oreth inclined her head in agreement. "Yet no apology was forthcoming, not even to you?"

"No. And Amonel is right, I do wish to reconcile before I leave for Hollin, yet I simply can't be the first to come to him, not without risking that he'll misinterpret it. So while I don't think there's an obligation for you in demanding an apology, I do think that perhaps if you did so, it could prompt Celebrimbor into action, since he does seem a little contrite. But I'm hardly going to ask you to do something against your own comfort to increase my own."

Oreth frowned. "You're right that I'd feel uncomfortable, and especially after what you've told me. I feel that by rights, he should apologise to you first. Towards you, it was a direct offence." She fell silent and they walked on, through the garden to the edges of the cliffs.

"I think," she said musingly when they were overlooking the sea, "that Celebrimbor simply needs the right opportunity. A good thing one celebration of a Princess' birth is coming up."

Galadriel gave her a surprised look. "Let's go find Rodnor," the Queen suggested instead of a response, and turned back towards the palace in her usual, calmly dignified manner.

Galadriel followed, rather bewildered, and then waited while Oreth explained the situation to her husband. "We'll simply find Celebrimbor at the celebration and stage a conversation not too far from him," she finished. "It shouldn't be too complicated."

Artanáro started to reply, then noticed Galadriel's expression and said with a smile: "You didn't underestimate my wife, did you?"

"No," Galadriel replied, completely honestly, "but I didn't expect you to take such an active interest, my lady."

"Well," Oreth noted, "it solves my problem as well, or rather Rodnor's problem, which he kept asking me to solve. But I'll need your advice on what would work best as this prompting."

That, Galadriel thought, should not be too complicated. We Noldor are very straightforward, when it comes down to it. "If what I hope is true, letting him know the apology will be accepted should be enough. If it is not, then it does not matter."

Artanáro gave her a look. "You could have asked me to tell him that years ago," he said.

Before Galadriel could reply, Oreth gave her husband a pitying look. "That," she said, "would be little different from going to him herself, my love."

And so it happened that, two days later, Galadriel was standing in the feast hall having a conversation with Ambë when Tyelperinquar approached her. "My lady," he said, and nervousness was evident in his voice. "May I speak to you?"

Galadriel turned her cold eyes to him. "About?"

"I...I came to offer my sincerest apology and contrition."

A hint of warmth appeared in her tone. "Very well then," she said. "You may."

"Perhaps...somewhere more private?"

She nodded curtly, even though the idea of privacy with him at the moment was completely undesirable, and they left the feast hall and walked a little way, entering one of the many terraces.

"Well?" She said.

Tyelperinquar fell to his knees. "I have no adequate words to offer," he said, "so I can only resort to gestures. I-"

"Get up," Galadriel interrupted him with a grimace. "Not that contrition is misplaced, but I will not listen to it as you kneel."

He reluctantly rose. "As I said, there is nothing I can say to justify myself. You were right, and as soon as my anger cooled-"

"Your anger?" Galadriel's voice rose.

He flinched. "I know it was misplaced, my lady, but it...existed, and it took me some years to get over it enough to realize that I made an enormous mistake. At first, it was only the realization that as you were already married to Lord Celeborn, it was wrong to say anything along the lines of what I did, since I could not change the fact of your marriage, and so I had no right to try and spoil your happiness. Soon after that realization came others, though. The knowledge that your sharp mind would hardly miss something so substantial, as well as awareness that my personal feelings, whatever they were, were my problem, and I had no right to burden them with you."

Galadriel shook her head. "That is not necessarily true," she said. "We were friends, once at least, and as such I would have wished to know – to avoid hurting you by discussing some things, for example. If, that is, you presented the matter as a fact you wished me to know of, and not as a demand for my attention."

He lowered his head. "You are more generous than I deserve. Let me simply repeat that I am deeply, profoundly sorry for what I said. I thought about things a lot, and I also realized you were probably right about my mother."

"No, Tyelperinquar – she was right about herself. I only came to realize it sooner than you did."

"Of course. I just...there are so many things I have been wrong about while you were right." He shook his head. "It is just...such a strange experience." He laughed a weird little laugh. "I am used to being right, you know? In the forge, I mean. I am very good at craft, I would not hesitate to say that I am without a peer there...and it just made me assume that I will be right in other matters too, while in reality, it seems it is the one thing I understand, the only one thing." He smiled bitterly. "My father taught me that. It appears I listened to him more, in this and in other things, than I ever did to my mother's lessons."

"You have some reason to be hard on yourself, Tyelperinquar, but do not go too far. Do not start thinking you are like your father. You are worlds removed from him. For one, he never admitted his mistakes."

"It took me long enough!" He cried. "No, I think it will be good if I keep to the forge and all that is related to it and do not try to pretend I ever understood anything else. I would not, after all, take kindly to you walking into my workroom and telling me how to craft. I do not know why I ever thought I knew anything about these matters, really, when I spend most of my life in the forge. That does not give itself to knowing people well. My fellow smiths, those I understand, but that is all, and I will keep to them and out matters from now on."

"As you will. For a time, it is probably a good approach, anyway." Until this rather extraordinary mood cools, Galadriel thought to herself. In the long term it would certainly be better to try and actually learn to understand people more, but she did not think that should be suggested at the moment. Tyelperinquar had enough to work through.

She hesitated. "You truly came to see all of this during the last century, while before, for so long…?"

He seemed to blush a little. "Amonel might have provided some guidance in this. After I came to my senses initially, she sought me out."

Galadriel smiled. She would have to thank her friend. "Very well, then. I can see in your mind that your contrition is sincere, so I do, of course, forgive you."

He pressed her hands in gratefulness, seemingly too overcome for words for a moment. Then, however, he opened his mouth and closed it again.

"What is it?"

"Well, I only...wished to know if your forgiveness went far enough that you would allow me to go to Hollin with you."

"Tyelperinquar...is it wise? Given your feelings..."

He smiled a little sadly. "That, I believe, is the one good thing that came of this. I have seen through my infatuation. It was mostly an admiration of strength, to be truthful, rather than any true attachment to you as a person."

"I am well aware of that. The implied comparison to your mother made it all the more insulting."

He nodded. "I cringe when I think about it," he said. "If there is anything I can do, anything at all, to make this all up to you and Lord Celeborn, just tell me, please. Anything in my power – only, as I have said, I truly believe the one thing where I can be of use if craftsmanship. If I can do something for you there, I will."

Galadriel nodded. "I will think about it," she said.

-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-

It was Celeborn who told her about the plans of those from Doriath. "Most will come with us to Hollin, it seems," he said. "If Elrond was king, they'd perhaps have stayed, for they feel loyal to him still, but he isn't, and so it seems they'll choose to follow me, as the last remnants of the royal family."

"You're not counting Oropher, then, I take it?"

"Nobody's counting Oropher." But then he grew serious. "You should know, however," he said, "that many of those – especially the older generation, those who truly lived in Doriath – will follow us for...less pleasing reasons, or at least it plays a part in their decision."

"What does that mean?"

"They resent the good position of the Select at court in Lindon, and so wish to leave."

Galadriel stared. "In spite of their willingness to go, Hollin is still likely to end up a mostly Noldorin kingdom! How can they think it'll be better there, than in the predominately Sindarin Lindon?"

Celeborn sighed and sat down heavily in one of the ornamental chairs in their chambers. "Well, most of the Sindar here were born in this new kingdom already. They do not...ah...share the old values, as some would say. They grew up under the Noldorin influence. So they aren't of much use in this. And while Hollin might be very Noldorin...it won't, as far as we know, have two open Select on the royal council, and another one being effectively a ruler of his own independent subdivision." He shook his head. "The two weddings clinched their dislike, I fear. One Doriath couple actually sailed after Glorfindel's and because of it-"

"Are they in for a surprise," Galadriel muttered.

"-and I know several of Círdan's people moved out of Grey Havens after his wedding. They consider him unfit to rule."

Galadriel's eyes widened. "I had no idea...this is terrible."

"Yes. I just thought you should know that this is why some will be following us."

She almost groaned as she sat down opposite to him. "I can't forbid them, I suppose," she said, "not if I want for people to follow me at all...but I sincerely wish that whoever ends up being on our council, as many of them as possible are Select."

She even considered choosing such advisers intentionally, and had to remind herself that wisdom should be the defining characteristic. Still, at least one or two...that elf who was distant kin to Gwindor, what was her name, Feliel? She was reliable and capable, and she used to court a lady at one time if Galadriel remembered correctly, even though nothing came of it...and it seemed like there was a chance she would go with them to Hollin.

Indeed, the picture of those who would go was slowly becoming clearer. Apart from the Doriath Sindar, there would be both those who knew her from Hithlum and who left Narogrotto with her. She knew most of these people and it warmed her heart to know that, after all, she has gained some loyalty among them.

There were even a few elves originally from Ondolindë who decided to go with her, though mainly, she sensed, because building a new realm presented a great chance for their craft and because the proximity to Hadhodrond would open new opportunities. Most, however, would stay with Elrond, the grandson of their beloved princess, and their much-loved Lord Laurefindil, both of whom Galadriel would sorely miss. Tindómiel came to her to tell her they would go, though.

"Are you sure?" Galadriel asked her hesitatingly.

"Yes," the lady in question replied. "I do not feel strong ties to this kingdom, not even after the two centuries I spent here, and I cannot...being so close to Númenórë is slowly becoming torture. I try not to go there too often, as you know, but love still binds me to Elendil and his siblings and cousins...and when I am there, it is so hard not to feel bonds to their children as well, and yet I cannot bear it...I have to leave."

Galadriel frowned a little. "It will still be at least a few decades until we go," she said. "We have to finalize the plans and preparations, complete the maps, the architects are not done with their city project yet...if you feel the need to leave now-"

"Oh no, it is not quite as urgent as that. In fact, I would not mind if we waited until Eldenil's life, and that of others of his generation, nears its end. Like I said, I am bound to them by love. But...not any longer than that. Please."

Galadriel nodded, and there was a short silence. "Will you mind?" Tindómiel asked then. "Leaving Númenórë behind, I mean? I know Uncle Elrond could never do it."

"No, he could not. As for me...I will miss Silmariën, as you know. But she is the only one left there I am truly close to. Elendil sees me as an advisor, not as a friend. My brother's ring is becoming a mere symbol. I will miss those from Lindon much more bitterly."

"Perhaps Elendil saw you as more of a friend before the conflict between you."

Galadriel had insisted Elendil made his eldest daughter his heir. He had refused, rather categorically. She shook her head now. "No – he never saw me as a friend, as that was why there was conflict in the first place. He did not trust my advice."

"Well, he would have been breaking with custom," Tindómiel tried to defend him. "The people might have been angry if he was seen to do so under elven influence."

"As if it was elven custom to have female rulers. It was the Second born who had Haleth as their leader, and Silmariën would be a better queen than Meneldur, you know that." It was Silmariën who inherited the gift to rule from Amandil. It seemed to always skip a generation.

"I do," Tindómiel agreed, "but then, Meneldur is much like Elendil, so perhaps it is understandable that he wishes him to rule." She shook her head. "See? I am doing it again, getting wrapped up in the affairs of my old home. I have to go."

Galadriel nodded. "Will Quendingoldo not mind leaving Erestor behind?"

"He is sorry for that," Tindómiel admitted, "but some of his good friends from Ondolindë will be coming with us at least, so he will have some consolation. And he understands my reasoning." Tindómiel tried to smile. "Besides," she said, "so many new lands to explore!"

-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-

Much like Gildor, Elrond felt the need to apologise for not going to Hollin, something Galadriel never expected in the first place. It was then that the topic of Silmariën came up again. "I would go with you," he said, "but you know I cannot leave my brother's family. I gave my word."

Galadriel only inclined her head, having always known that, and considered the contrast to Tindómiel's approach. The Nolde rather thought it might be healthier for Elrond not to go to Númenórë so often either, since it always made him miss his brother more acutely and made him melancholic for weeks, but it was true that she had not been truly worried about him since meeting The Eldest, not even Vardamir's death sending him spiralling back, something she had been truly afraid of. It was also true he genuinely loved his brother's descendants, Elendil being like his son, and that he gave his word. And so, instead of expressing her opinion, she embraced him. "We could not all leave Artanáro at the same time," she said. "One of us would always have to stay. He needs his advisers."

"I doubt I could ever fill that role after you."

"I think you will do fine. Have you not done this for the kings of Númenórë for centuries?"

He opened his mouth to say something, then paused. "Is this about Silmariën?"

Galadriel exhaled, suddenly feeling tired. "No, it is not. I genuinely wished to assuage your fears."

"I am sorry that I did not back you, truly," he continued as if he had not heard her. "I simply feel that I should not take part of one of my family members against another."

"Elrond, I know. We have discussed this a thousand times."

"You still disagree, though." It seemed he found the idea of that troubling.

"Yes, for I believe that sometimes you need to choose sides, but it is in the past now. Elendil made his choice. It was not my intention to bring it up again."

"Forgive me. It is only that I feel guilty."

"But you do not regret it, do you?"

"...No." The one word appeared to give him great pain.

Galadriel smiled to try and encourage him. "Well then. No need for guilt."

She was not entirely certain he believed her.

Elrond staying meant, naturally, that Lord Laurefindil stayed as well. There was no need to discuss the issue, and so they did not, instead enjoying the last years in company with each other. "You are the last one here that I actually knew in Aman, Lord Laurefindil," she told him. "There will be some from the West coming with me, but none I met there. It is...strange, to think of that."

"I know what you mean, my lady," he agreed. "I would miss your company if only for this reason, and there are many others."

"Well, you have Erestor to keep you occupied now."

He laughed. "Yes, and he is a handful! But as much as I adore my husband-"

"Would he not hate to hear you declare so this publicly?"

"That is why I am doing it. As I was saying, as much as I adore him, he is...well, so young, which sounds like a terrible thing to say, and of course he has lived through a lot, but...he does not remember. Not the way we do."

"It must be strange," Galadriel mused. "Celeborn has different memories from me, of course, but...they are equally long. Erestor is barely older than Elrond!"

"Over a century older."

"As I said...barely."

They both laughed.

-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-

All of these prolonged goodbyes were bitter-sweet, but there was one departure in particular that made Galadriel think Artanáro would regret his blanket permission for all to leave for Hollin. Sarnel appeared in Galadriel's chambers one day and said: "I wish to go with you, Aunt."

"Sarnel...sit down." Galadriel gestured to a chair, taking the other one. "Are you certain? You father would miss you sorely."

"I know," she admitted, sitting very straight and tense, "but I truly feel like I have no future here. There is nothing to do for me, and in spite of my father's assurances, I know I am seen by many as...well, as odd."

"Only by some," Galadriel corrected, though she realized that as that included her own mother, sister and brother-in-law, it was felt very strongly. "You are an anomaly, so to speak, much like your grandmother."

Sarnel gave a small sigh. "That is what Father often says. It is a source of trouble to him, I believe."

Galadriel shrugged languidly. "Well, you know how your grandmother died. She was a hero, but it is still the truth that had she not been a fighter, she would have stayed alive. Your father would never ban you from doing what you love, but under the circumstances, it is quite natural that he worries. He remembers her, and every time he sees you sparring with Lord Laurefindil, I think he is seeing her in the yards in his mind's eyes. Try to understand him, but do not concern yourself with it overmuch."

"May I go with you, then?" Sarnel asked, still tense.

Galadriel was surprised by the question. People normally did not ask, they announced they would go. "You are an adult, and I would never reject you. On the contrary, I would be happy to have you, and can in fact imagine a key function or two for you in my council. But I would very much like it if you discussed it with your father. You do not need to ask his leave, for he gave a permission for all and you are an adult, but it would be good if you explained your reasons."

"Thank you, Aunt. I promise I shall."

And she clearly did, because only a few days later, Artanáro searched Galadriel out with a grave expression in his face.

"Sarnel spoke to you," she said immediately. She could see it in his mind.

"Yes. I will not stop her, and I will not ask you to, but Aunt...it hurts."

She came to embrace him, and after a moment, she asked: "Why? She does not wish to leave out of any malice towards you."

"I still feel like I have failed her as a father."

Galadriel pulled back and took his hands. "Remember," she said, "I have left my parents, too, and it was not because of any failure on their part."

"Yet you always told me they did not understand you."

"They did not, but that was not the reason I left. Perhaps if they did, the need would have been felt a little less sharply, but perhaps not. I had my uncle and cousins, after all, and it did not stop the desire. Lindon is to Sarnel what Aman was to me, it seems: she feels she cannot truly become what she wants to be here. I believe I can give her that opportunity."

Artanáro sighed. "I will miss her terribly, just as I will miss you," he said. "Will you take care of her for me, please?"

"With all my power."

He smiled sadly. "Well," he said, "that certainly should be some consolation, should it not?"

Galadriel did not reply. She thought of all those she could not protect, could not save, despite her best attempts, and like always, asked herself if she could not have done more. Hithlum, Narogrotto, Doriath, New Havens...so many fallen realms, so many dead in them, and so much guilt for her to carry.