Chapter 49: Marriage
Year 990 of the Second Age, Hollin
"So we are...reasonably certain we are safe now?" Celeborn tried to assure himself.
"As safe as we can be," Galadriel amended.
"Sauron is still out there," Sarnel added, mostly for the benefit of the rest of the council rather than for Celeborn, "but our forces combined with Aldarion's did manage to limit his powers and possibilities enough that, as long as we stay vigilant, we do not have to fear for our immediate safety. It would be wise to start preparing our army as well as we can for the decisive attack."
"The dwarves gave me some ideas," Tyelperinquar said, "about improving our armour and weapons, and of course we will try to make as many mithril pieces we can."
He frowned as he said the last, and Galadriel turned to him in question. "What is it?"
He sighed. "It is a constant argument with the current king of Khazad-dûm," he said. "How much mithril should be devoted to our own defence, and how much should go to trade. King Durin does not feel the danger as so imminent, I am afraid."
"Or rather, he sees the possible profit as more imminent," Tavoron drawled.
Galadriel sighed. She had placed Tavoron on her council because he was widely respected among the more conservative of the Sindar, the circles she suspected followed her to Hollin chiefly because of their prejudice against the Select. It was meant as a peace offering, but she never stopped regretting it since. He was contrary to anything to do with dwarves, he was contrary to anything Feliel suggested, he was, in general, just contrary and divisive. She wished she could replace him without offending hundreds of her people. The rest of the council is filled with your favourites, she told herself. Surely you can tolerate this one exception? "The dwarves have a good reason to be less afraid of war than we do," she said. "Their kingdom is much easier to defend. I will speak to the king about it when next I visit Khazad-dûm. He is reasonable, and I am sure he will be open to discussion."
"I have some difficulty imagining that," Tavoron muttered. Even Celeborn looked doubtful, and Galadriel gave him an exasperated look.
"I might have something for you to bargain with," Tyelperinquar said musingly. "I have been experimenting with a new kind of mixture, one that could be used for secret writings and codes, as well as simple decoration. I believe it is almost ready."
"What kind of mixture?"
"Well, it is a mix of mithril in an acidic base that-"
Celeborn raised his hand. "No details, please."
Tyelperinquar grinned a little. "Very well. At any rate, the effect is that the writing done with this mixture is only seen in the light of stars. We have also been working on an improved mechanism for passwords and codes with Narvi, and I believe these two things could be combined. I could, perhaps, do things like create an offensive trap reacting to the name of Sauron, or to black speech. I believe the dwarves would be interested in this technology. Narvi certainly looked like he would give his right arm for it when I merely hinted as to its possibilities."
Galadriel nodded. "I can imagine so, yes. I will mention it to King Durin. This might just be the bargaining chip we needed to tip the balance. Is there any other matter?"
No one on the council had anything, and so Galadriel dismissed them and retreated to her own chambers with Celeborn at her side. She poured wine to them both and they sat at the terrace, overlooking their realm. It truly did seem like they would have safety for at least a few centuries, enough to prepare the final strike.
Celeborn took a deep breath, and when Galadriel turned to him, gave her a serious look. "My love," he said, "as you said, we are as safe as we can be, now. I do not want to push you, and yet..."
She nodded. She had been expecting this. "Yes," she agreed, "I know. I promised, and I'll deliver on that promise. We'll have a child. Only...well, only wait until after Sarnel's wedding, please, and once that excitement is over, I'll gladly open myself to that possibility."
He reached out to caress her arms. "I just feel like you're only doing this to please me, love, and..."
"And what? It doesn't mean it's wrong. You want a child, I don't, but I promised you we'll have one. I can hardly change my mind now without it being a betrayal, can I? And I'm sure that once the child comes into being, I'll love it as much as you will. It's only that I don't...feel it missing from my life, now. But I got my kingdom, you have a right to your child."
He pressed her hands, but he still looked troubled.
For herself, Galadriel felt conflicted. She knew, on some level, that she was tarrying. She was inventing reasons to postpone motherhood, which seemed unfair to Celeborn, and yet...he was right. She was the one who would pay the highest price for it, so surely she had the right to some reluctance? If there had been no threat of Sauron, perhaps she would have asked him to wait a few centuries still, in the hope that her wishes would change, a hope she knew was very unlikely to come true. But as it was...just as Sauron had served as an excuse a century ago, he now served as a catalyst. The safety would not be forever, and she did not wish for her child to grow up in the middle of a war. No, she told herself firmly. Sarnel's wedding, and then I will take care of all other matters – visit Númenórë and Lindon, and Lindórinand and Hadhodrond, to give myself time to stay here afterwards...and once this is done, I will have a child. No more excuses.
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Sarnel pressed Galadriel's hand in excitement. "They are coming!"
Galadriel smiled at this atypical enthusiasm from the princess. But truth be told, there was some cause for excitement in this case, for not since her coronation had Hollin had so many noble visitors. The High King and Queen were coming, along with their older daughter and her family, and with them was Elrond and Lord Laurefindil. Out of those most esteemed in Lindon, only Lord Ciryatan and Ambë stayed behind, because though they were regretful about it, someone had to keep watch over the realm.
The discussion about where the wedding should take place had been a long one. Artanáro wished, naturally enough, to marry his daughter from his own house, but Sarnel was almost as headstrong as her aunt and she insisted she wished to be wed in Hollin, in honour of its queen and the position she held at court. After many long talks with both his daughter and Galadriel, Artanáro finally gave in.
Now the procession appeared at the edge of the valley, and Galadriel and Sarnel rode to meet it. "I am afraid," Sarnel said on the way, "that my sister will try to change my mind again."
Galadriel raised her eyebrows. "On the eve of your wedding?"
"You underestimate her stubbornness."
"Does Maewel...have a reason to dislike Tyelperinquar?" Galadriel did not know how better to ask whether she knew about the beliefs he used to held about Oreth, without spelling the unpleasant reality out.
Sarnel frowned at the reminder of that. "Oh no. Not as far as I know, anyway. She never said anything. I think it is not even about Tyelperinquar, not truly. Maewel just hoped I would come back to Lindon."
"Well, that is touching, is it not? She does not like being parted from you."
"I suppose. But I would appreciate it more if she actually respected what I want. It is not as if I try to convince her to move to Hollin. It is...tiring."
Galadriel smiled encouragingly. "I have no fear about your ability to withstand her attempts."
"Of course, but it will make me feel guilty nevertheless. Why can she live a life that is so perfectly pleasing to our parents, and I cannot?"
The queen shook her head. "Do not believe that you are displeasing your father, beloved. He worries about you and misses you, but he is very proud of you. Perhaps he neglects to tell you as often as you wish he did, for fear of encouraging you too much, but it is still true."
"Not so my mother."
Galadriel gave her a short look and slowed her horse to gain more time to talk. "I will not lie to you, so why do you ask me this? You know very well your mother does not understand you, as much as she loves you. Yes, it is inconceivable to her that you would wish to leave the sea and the calm, quiet life you had in Lindon. Do not be bitter about it, instead, be thankful you have at least one parent who does understand. It is your father for you, and her mother for your sister."
"It is both of my parents for my sister."
Galadriel gave chuckled drily at the idea. "Your father loves her dearly, and is glad she stays close to him, but he does not truly understand her, do not be mistaken."
Sarnel gave her a surprised look at this. "Why do you think so? That seems very strange to me – he understands mother, does he not, and Maewel is so much like her."
"Understanding between two that are married is of a strange kind." A small smile was playing around Galadriel's lips. "You will see it fully once you marry Tyelperinquar, but I expect you know some of it already. They become part of each other, always in the other's mind, and so they know the other intimately, and yet most couples I know are very unlike each other, at least in some ways. Very often, you understand your spouse as you understand something foreign that you learned to know well, but you understand your friends as you understand something intimately familiar and close to you."
"But why could you not get to know someone else so foreign, apart from your spouse, well enough to truly understand them?"
"Perhaps because no bond but the marriage one is enough to make it possible? I do not know the secrets of The One's mind, beloved, I only speak from experience."
"Only?" Sarnel laughed. "I would be hard pressed to find someone more experienced than you in the whole of Middle-Earth."
"There are some among the Sindar who are much older than me. Lord Ciryatan foremost among them."
"Older, yes, but more experienced? You have lived through so much, Aunt..."
Yes, Galadriel thought, I have. But I am not so certain it is a reason for admiration.
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It was not a very surprising realization for Galadriel that she was Tyelperinquar's closest relation in Middle-Earth, but it was more difficult to come to terms with the fact that he was, after Artanáro, her closest relation as well. So many were gone...
But this was not the time to dwell on it, and so Galadriel turned her mind to the cheerful occasion at hand as she watched the bridal party approach from the edge of the valley. The time they had picked was truly perfect, all of the flowers of Hollin in bloom, the sky bright blue, and the birds of the valley singing the wedding song for the bride and groom. Sarnel looked beautiful, too. Her dress was much like her: simple yet elegant, made in white and grey to make her look like a beautiful creature of pure light, her silver hair shining in the sun. It was fashioned into braids vaguely reminiscent of the warrior ones, thus honouring her profession. Tyelperinquar made her jewels of platinum and diamonds to go with the dress, glittering brightly in the sun. There was no Star crowning those jewels, though, and realizing this always made Galadriel feel slight discomfort. Of course, Sarnel herself had assured her husband-to-be she did not need one. She was not one to love jewels overmuch, and while she admired it in Galadriel's crown, she said it would have been wasted on her. And it was true that the simplicity of the cut Tyelperinquar chose for her jewels suited her very well.
It was also true, however, that Tyelperinquar would have likely found it very hard to make another one, and so Galadriel sometimes wondered whether Sarnel knew that and if that was why she said what she said, and whether Tyelperinquar felt guilty about it. When she asked him, though, he denied it, and when she offered to take the Star of Hollin from her crown to give it to his wife, he had sharply refused. Galadriel did not see what else she could do.
She put those thoughts away as she walked behind him to welcome the bridal party. Instead, melancholy intruded as she felt a touch of sadness upon looking at him in his dark blue clothes. Attempting to claim his Noldorin heritage without associating with his father, Tyelperinquar left out the Feanorion red and kept only to blue and the silver star in his official robes, and seeing him like that made Galadriel remember Findekáno, and Turukáno as well, something she did more rarely. But he had looked equally handsome on his wedding day, ages ago in Aman. Stop, she told herself firmly. This is a day for joy.
She took Tyelperinquar's hand and put it in Sarnel's, held by her father – another memory surfaced, this time of Artaresto's wedding, where the parental roles have been switched too. That had been a happy time as well, in spite of the tragedy that followed. It was important, she thought, not to forget the good for the tragedy that came afterwards. She was very happy now, yes, but she missed her loved ones, and it would not do to forget the happy years with them just because they were gone. The memory of them should not inspire sadness.
Tyelperinquar and Sarnel said their vows, and as at every wedding, Galadriel remembered her own and pressed Celeborn's hand in happy memory. He returned the gesture, giving her a small smile before returning his gaze to the newly-weds.
Artanáro stepped out then, along with Galadriel, to pronounce them husband and wife. She had wanted to cede to honour solely to him, as the High King, but he had argued that since the wedding was taking place in her realm, he could not usurp it. So it ended up with a compromise, one that she suspected pleased the newly-weds as well.
When the officialities were done, and a song was sung in praise of all the Valar, Galadriel turned to Sarnel to wish her well and embrace her. Next, she turned to Tyelperinquar, at whom she looked seriously. "You know how much I care about Sarnel," she said. "Do your best."
"And will you forgive me," he replied cheekily, "if I do not do my best because of you, but because of her?"
"That would be even better," Galadriel returned with a laugh, glad to see him in such a free mood.
After well-wishing was over, the guests drifted to the many tables laden with the best foods to be found in Middle-Earth. Galadriel's official seat was between Tyelperinquar and Celeborn, but it did not take long for all to mix and sit where they willed to even as some headed directly to the dance floor. Soon, Galadriel found herself there with Lord Laurefindil. "How go things in Lindon?" She asked as they moved with grace among the other dancers.
"I am sure you have been informed by the king already, my lady," he replied.
"Yes, but then, he speaks of the things that are most important to him – and to the realm. You might offer a different perspective."
"Well, I can tell you that the army is doing reasonably well – as well as can be expected under the circumstances, I suppose. It is a little hard to motivate the soldiers, since we have not made the seriousness of the threat in the East public, but apart from that, they train hard and are decent fighters." He sighed. "It is, of course, difficult for me not to compare them to the Guard of Ondolindë, but...that is fruitless. I do not have a single elf from the West in my ranks."
"Not a single one?"
"No. They do not wish to join. I trust that if we were in true danger, they would fight, but...well. Regular army with scheduled trainings and patrols is something else entirely."
Galadriel nodded. "And what about your more private matters?" She asked. "How is life with Erestor continuing?"
He chuckled. "Being with him on the council is...interesting. You know, I suppose, that we do not always agree-"
"Indeed. It seems to me you are one of the many couples where the One put his Flame into two of very different nature."
"And opinions! I can now personally attest that the Flame is no barrier to almost boundless irritation."
Galadriel laughed. "I always imagined," she said, "that being boundlessly irritating was one of Erestor's main attractions, for you."
"Perhaps you are right," Lord Laurefindil admitted, "but then, the council needs to get things done occasionally, too, and our endless arguments do not always help that. I think the king is beginning to suspect we are a little self-indulgent in them."
"And are you?"
He only laughed.
After the dance ended, he accompanied her to the table, where Galadriel sat down next to Tindómiel. "You look a little...morose," she observed. She did not like seeing that. Tindómiel was happier and livelier in Hollin than she had been in Lindon, and mindful of her promise to Elros, Galadriel dreaded any setback.
"I would say," Tindómiel agreed with emphasis that was reassuring. "There are some of Quendingoldo's relations among Artanáro's escort, and, well..."
"The unpleasant ones?"
"Yes. The ones who were part of the reason why I wished to go to Hollin. You would think that being a king's daughter and kin to both you and Artanáro would make me good enough, but no, clearly, to some, nothing can ever wash away the taint of Second born blood. What do you think that second cousin twice removed or whatever she is bothered me about?"
"Children?" Galadriel asked, reaching for the jar of wine that stood on the table to replenish their glasses, sensing it would be needed.
"Yes! I do not understand why people cannot mind their own business. I had hoped that you had merely neglected to notify us of the birth, she mimicked, but I see the omission goes deeper. As if Quendingoldo desperately longed for children and I was malevolently withholding them from him!"
Galadriel shifted uncomfortably in her chair at this statement. "So I take it neither of you have changed your mind, then?" She said.
"No! Neither he nor I want children, so I really do not see why we should have them."
"It would certainly be foolish under such circumstances. Did you tell her so?"
"Many times, in fact, even while still in Lindon. I am just so tired of this already. 'The purpose of the Flame is that the One intends us to have children', she says. What is she, a Doriath Sinda?"
"Now, now, no need to be offensive. You know Celeborn would never tell you anything of the sort," Galadriel chided even as she remembered, with even more discomfort, Celeborn telling her precisely that some centuries ago.
"No," Tindómiel replied, "but I would not put it past Tavoron. He seems he could be best friends with this...well. No matter. I apologize. I am just so...well, so angry. Do people bother you with the same thing?"
Galadriel hesitated for the smallest of moments. "Not often," she said then. "There are not enough left who would really dare."
Tindómiel laughed at that. "That must be useful," she said. "I should learn to make people scared of me as well."
"You are scary enough – but Quendingoldo's cousin is hundreds of years older than you. That gives her distinct advantage." Galadriel smiled. "I can talk to her if you want me to."
"No, I do not wish to make it seem like I cannot fight my own battles. I will simply partake of wine for a moment, to calm myself. Normally I would rant at Quendingoldo, but you know that Erestor came with Laurefindil and he is deep in a discussion about something with his friend. I do not wish to disturb him."
"Of course." Galadriel fell silent, watching Tindómiel drink wine. Yes, she said to herself, when neither of them wants children, it would be foolishness. But in my case, it is an obligation.
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Later in the evening, she found Artanáro. "How are you holding up?" She asked him with a smile.
"I would describe my feelings as extremely mixed," he returned jokingly, but then added in a serious tone: "Of course I am very happy for her."
"I know you are. I, as well."
"You must be very happy for more than that reason today," he replied. "The feast is magnificent, the music is enchanting and the city is beautiful. Under your advice and indirect leadership, we have managed to gradually push Sauron back-"
"Thanks very much also to your daughter's planning," Galadriel pointed out.
"Yes, but still. You have achieved everything you have wanted."
A slight shiver ran through Galadriel, like a first hint of a premonition. It seemed almost blasphemous to say so. But it was also true. "I am very happy," she conceded. "The realm blooms. Our relations with Amdír are back to being cordial-"
"Not enough to come here, I can see."
"To Curufinwë's son's wedding? There are limits to every forgiveness."
"He is also his cousin."
"Yes, but still. You know they never got on very well. I did not expect him here, and neither did Tyelperinquar. But we visit each other often, and Oropher has actually deigned to grant Celeborn an audience the last few times he appeared in Greenwood. And our relations with the dwarves, too, are as good as can be."
Artanáro shook his head. "One thing I will never understand," he muttered.
"I probably could not either, if I had not spent those years with Nelyafinwë and Macalaurë. It taught me something about forgiveness. And working together truly is beneficial – have you seen some of the things Tyelperinquar makes with them?"
"Not yet, but he promised to show us a wondrous door."
A small smiled played around Galadriel's mouth. "Mhm. Should have done it before the wedding. As it is, you will have to wait quite a time to see it."
"I tried to hint as much to him, but I do not believe he understood."
"No – one never can, can one, before the wedding night?"
Artanáro smiled in response. "Well, you have to admit it is never discussed in any kind of detail, so how are they supposed to know, poor souls?"
"Do you wonder at this? Do you have words to describe lying with your wife?"
"No – and I do not believe I would ever publicly use them even if I did."
"The married bards never do," she agreed.
Elrond joined them in this moment, and Galadriel sought to change the topic. "I hope," she said, "that you will find some time to look over our library while you are here."
"Why – do you believe you have books I do not know?"
"Certainly, for Quendingoldo managed to somehow convince some of our craftsmen to allow for the process of their work to be written down, but probably not any you would be interested in, I grant you that. But perhaps you could determine which volumes are sorely lacking here, and send us copies from Caras Aear."
Elrond gave her an amused look. "Surely you can do it just as well yourself, Aunt."
"Yes, but why when I have you here?" She teased in response, but then added: "You know you have a better idea what volumes are to be found in the Lindon library. I know what stories are missing, what subjects, but you will know what books."
Elrond slowly nodded his agreement.
"What news from Númenórë?" Galadriel asked as Artanáro excused himself for a moment.
Elrond frowned. "Not good. Queen Erendis died a few years ago...it seems by drowning. By...drowning herself."
Galadriel's eyes widened. "But that is terrible! Why?"
"Despair," Elrond said shortly, and shook his head. "It was just as Aldarion was returning from another voyage. He is...well, his kingship is going about as badly as we have expected it would."
Galadriel nodded. "I saw him recently, have I not told you? It might," she swallowed at the thought, "have actually been on the journey upon the return from which his wife drowned. I was in the Great Forest to see the Ents, and I had some complains about trees being cut down in the south by people coming from the West, so I went there. It turned out he was rebuilding and expanding his havens there, and he was using the trees from the Great Forest without any discrimination." She shook her head. "It took a very long time to even explain to him who Ents were, and why he had to respect them. He was extremely reluctant, and I feared it would take one of his man being hurt by them to understand. In the end, he saw reason and some form of agreement was reached. I hope he will follow it. I worry about him a little: the trees there are not friendly, and the Ents have little reason to have sympathy for him. But I was surprised to see him there. I had hoped that after becoming king, he would limit his sailing to Lindon."
Elrond shook his head. "He will never limit his sailing in any way, I fear. He is a great mariner and would be a great general, I trust, but as king… I see him more often in Middle-Earth than when I go to Númenórë, and while he, personally, does much good for Middle-Earth, he is not suited to directing anything. He cannot choose good men and delegate responsibility, he wants to do everything in person. I am beginning to wish I had listened to you when you urged me to support Silmariën's claim." He chuckled humourlessly. "I should have known you would be right in the end. Why do I even bother?"
Galadriel gave him a look. "You know I find no joy in it."
"Yes, and I apologize. At any rate, my opposition seems even more absurd at the moment, for Aldarion only has the one daughter, as you know, and from what he told me, he intends to change the laws to make her Queen. If the same had been done two generations ago, we could have avoided this whole mess...now I fear a grim future for Númenórë. Certainly I am losing my influence there. As I said, Aldarion is barely present and his daughter does not care for me. She is looking for a husband at this point in time, but as much as I tried to help her in this, she does not listen to any advice and firmly believes she knows best. The death of her mother, too, traumatized her deeply. There is little positive influence left in court since Silmariën's death. Her son, of course, is a just and honourable man, but he lives in Andúnië and rarely ever comes to the capital – for understandable reasons, given the atmosphere there. Even I go there less often that I used to now, only once every few years...with Aldarion coming to Middle-Earth so often, it's not as crucial anymore, and I have little personal reason to."
Artanáro came back at this moment, and said: "I sense you are badmouthing my friend Aldarion! I cannot in good conscience let that pass."
Galadriel raised her eyebrow at him, and he smiled. "Oh very well, I concede that he should never have become king. But he is good in many other things he does. And it reminds me – I have a gift for you, from him," he added, turning to Galadriel.
"Truly?" The Queen raised a sceptical brow. She was quite certain Aldarion loathed her.
"Well, not exactly. It was a gift to me, actually, but...he brought me mellyrn seeds from Númenórë. They do not, however, grow in Lindon. I had hoped they might do better by the mountains. Not that I know much about it, but the soil should be better for this here, should it not?"
Mellyrn? Galadriel stared, scarcely daring to believe it. She had not seen those trees outside of Aman or Númenórë, and her heart ached at the mere thought of walking among them again, in her realm, somewhere where she could stay, where they would not cause her to feel regret for having to abandon them again soon.
But she should not be too hopeful – not everything that grew in the West could flourish in Middle-Earth. So aloud, she said: "Probably. I shall ask Celeborn." She smiled. "But if you hoped this gift would make me think more kindly about Aldarion, you should not have been so truthful."
Artanáro smiled. "But he is a good man," he insisted.
"The tale of his marriage belies your words."
"That is the other thing he never should have done – married Erendis."
Galadriel thought of Tindómiel, and what she had said. Even those who loved Aldarion seemed to agree on this. However, Elrond, at Artanáro's side, made a soft sound that made the High King turn to him. "You do not agree?" He questioned.
"No, I do. It is only...it is not easy for the Second born, having no Flame of the One as we do."
There was a mournful silence as they all remembered Elros' grief and worry over his children.
"Come, why are we talking of failed marriages now of all days?" Artanáro asked then. "Let us go and join the dance and music. By daughter just married an elf she loves, and we are in the beautiful, blooming realm of Hollin during its noontide, and there is nothing but joy and glory around us, all centered around its perfect Queen! Let us drink to her health!"
But as Galadriel drank and rose to follow them to the dance floor, she felt another small echo of a premonition. For she remembered the noontide of Valinor, and she remembered, too, what came after.
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AN: Yes, I am saying that elves do not have porn. Shocking, I know. But porn, even written porn, in a world where everyone only ever sleeps with their spouse just seems weird. Maybe private smutty poetry, only for one's partner's eyes/ears?
Boundless irritation as an attraction is a shout-out to Flawed and Fair, one of the best fanfictions in the history of mankind.