Chapter 60: Outrage

Year 2095 of the Second Age, Lindórinand

Silvan weddings, as it turned out, were a much more straightforward affair than either Noldorin or Sindarin ones.

There were no parents holding hands, and there were no official pronouncements by the king. The two who were getting married simply promised eternal love, loyalty and respect to each other with their friends standing witness. There was no mention of the Valar, but the One was referred to, though not by name.

The first kiss was also accompanied by loud cheers from the crowd, something no Sindarin wedding would ever tolerate.

All in all, it was not surprising Avorneth and Ealc chose to follow the Silvan custom. It was the Silvan who fought for their right to marry and live in the capital, after all. Besides, Avorneth was making a point.

There had been many changes in the realm in the last few decades. The capital moved, and it changed, too. Where there once stood only the low houses of the Doriath folk, there were now just as many flets in the treetops. Some Silvan moved to the city, desirous of making sure the king did not regress to his previous approach to them, and some young Sindar moved to the flets, too, as a mark of their sympathy for the Silvan.

Galadriel and Celeborn made a flet part of their new house. Amroth himself built one above his father's royal house atop the hill they chose as their seat.

There were also three Silvan on Amdír's council now, elected by their people, and one of them was Ealc. Galadriel had feared the council would become too large and inefficient just as Amdír had predicted, but two of his Sindar abandoned their position in protest over this change, so that cleared the matter, and made councils easier to bear. Ealc was definitely pleasanter company.

But still, prejudices lingered, as Galadriel supposed was their nature, and so for a Noldorin lady to have a Silvan wedding had a strong effect. Particularly a granddaughter of the High King. Avorneth took care to look the part, too, in spite of the simplicity of the wedding, wearing all the rich jewellery and elaborate dress one would expect from Noldorin royalty. Macalaurë's wife herself, on their wedding day in Tirion, did not look more noble than Avorneth did on this occassion.

Ealc was dressed in the usual Silvan fashion, her hair loose, the dress beautiful in its simplicity. The contrast was almost jarring to Galadriel, but she did understand the reasons behind it. Once again, Avorneth was making a point.

A point that was rather underlined by Artanáro being present at the wedding, with an entire entourage of richly dressed lords and ladies. It was the first time he had ever visited Lindórinand.

"It is a little unnatural," he observed to Galadriel after they congratulated the couple and stood to the side to allow their friends some space, "to be standing here as one of the guests, instead of officiating the marriage. Even though I suppose it would have been you to put her hand into Ealc' anyway."

"Well, you are her grandfather."

"Yes, but you know her far better, and besides, being a lady, it would have been more traditional."

Galadriel chuckled. "Because Avorneth and I both care about that so much."

"How did they meet, do you know?" Artanáro asked after a short pause.

She smiled. "Oh, yes. It was because of the rings. Ealc brought them to you, do you remember?"

"Of course. That lady is hard to forget," Artanáro said with amusement.

"If she could hear you, she would no doubt say that she was no lady, since that was a silly Noldorin invention and people were not more deserving of respect based on the family they were born into. Or something similar."

Artanáro grinned. "I am rather surprised they did not attempt to remove Amdír completely in their revolt, then."

"Oh, my impression is that most Silvan do not particularly care that he calls himself king. It is not their business, as they would say."

Now the High King seemed confused. "But I thought that was why the whole thing started, that they realized it had to be?"

"Yes, but still. The Silvan – or at least the council members I know – simply refuse the notion that someone could have as much authority as we ascribe to the king. So they keep treating Amdír like an appointed head of the council. It is...amusing, sometimes. The revolt, as you call it, was because they realized what it means to the Sindar. It does not indicate they accepted that meaning."

"I understand that, but is the fact that they have a Sindarin king at all – or any king – still not unacceptable? If they now know that the Sindar see him as ruling over them, over the Silvan?"

"Perhaps they also understand that the Sindar could not function without a king, and they understand the value of keeping the realm together in these times. They have different values, but they are certainly not stupid!"

Celebrían came to stand at their side at this moment, after curtsying to Artanáro. "Did you enjoy the wedding, my lady?" He asked her.

She smiled at him. "It was not done for me to enjoy," she replied, "but yes, it was moving. I am very happy for Avorneth."

"So am I. Do you know her wife well?"

"Relatively. They have been in love for centuries, of course, so I had enough time to get to know her. But we are very different."

That was very true. Celebrían and Ealc were in many ways like night and day. "But surely you have a number of common interests?" Artanáro said, confused again. "I know from your mother than you are a great admirer of the forest..."

Celebrían gave him one of her mildly amused looks. "And you assumed that because Ealc is Silvan, she has to be one too?"

Artanáro blinked, his confusion deepening. "Well...I would expect it, yes."

Celebrían shrugged. "She does not hate it, naturally, but...it is simply the place where she lives. She does not have the...perhaps it is because I grew up in a stone palace, and not in a forest? So I have the sort of appreciation only one who has not been surrounded by a forest their entire life can have?"

"I do not believe that is the difference," Galadriel replied. "Many Sindar from Doriath who lived outside Thousand Caves share your passion with you. You get it from your father, of course. It is a very Sindarin tradition, the love for things that grow."

"I remember your love of forests of Doriath, Aunt," Artanáro pointed out. "Do not pretend it is not your heritage as well."

"Yes," Galadriel admitted, "but then, I get it from my mother – or rather from her people, I should say, since she herself much preferred the Sea, as did most of the Teleri that went West."

"What would you call a Silvan tradition, then? If the Sindarin one is love for nature and the Sea, and ours, I suppose, would be crafting..."

"...and the Vanyarin one is words and stories and songs and lore. Well, I could not possibly speak of all Silvan in Middle-Earth, but from what I know from Lindórinand...I would say games and competitions of various kinds."

"What do you mean exactly?"

"You will see. We should go find Celeborn and Oreth – they are bound to be so wrapped up in their conversation they will miss the feast."

Artanáro smiled. "Do you blame them?"

"No, of course not." Celeborn and Oreth had not seen each other for a very long time, as both were rather unwilling to travel, and there was, after all, quite a long way to go between Lindórinand and Lindon.

The two Noldor fetched their partners and headed to the tables, where Avorneth and Ealc were just beginning to toast each other.

It did not take Artanáro long to realize what Galadriel had meant. "Is that a song competition?" He asked. "At a wedding?"

"There are always competitions," Galadriel replied.

And there were. There was a tug of war, there was a running and throwing and shooting competition, there was an obstacle course, there was a dancing competition.

Artanáro was flabbergasted.

"It is just so...so unusual," he muttered.

"Not everything has to be according to your customs," Ealc, who was just passing by, muttered.

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The discussion about wine imports from Greenwood seemed never-ending to Galadriel, who had some rather important news. But finally the conditions were settled and the council could move on to other things.

"And now to the gravest matter of today," Amdír said, turning to Galadriel.

"The rings," she explained quietly. Immediately, she had the attention of all in the room. "Celebrimbor claimed," she eadded to those present who did not know, "that apart from the lesser rings, which were really more like trinkets and are not for us to concern ourselves with, there were sixteen that are powerful enough to be relevant. Sauron helped with creating them, and he took them after he conquered Hollin. For the longest time, we had no idea where they were, but now..." She paused. "It appears that at least some of them were given to dwarves."

As she had expected, there was considerable outrage at this, and much talk about 'always knowing they could not be trusted'. After it quieted down, Ealc wondered: "How do you know?"

"King Lómi told me," she answered simply. "His grandfather was given the ring by Celebrimbor himself. That, I've known for some time." The murmur started again, about her keeping secrets. She ignored it. "However, Nordri, the head of the line of Nogrod...well, he felt jealous of the king, and so when later, Gorthaur's envoys came with the offer, he accepted one for himself and one for his friend, the head of Belegost's line. Lómi's father knew, and did not wish to speak of it, knowing too well what my reaction would have been. But I did grow suspicious of their long ages, and when their sons appeared to live equally long, I insisted on having an answer, and at length, he gave it to me. Once I knew this...it isn't easy to find information about dwarves, of course, but I did what I could and I believe that given some other news we've had, it's reasonable to I suspect the dwarven kings in the East have received rings as well."

"Dwarven kings in the East?" Rýnor asked.

Galadriel sighed. "There are seven dwarven clans in total. Three now live in Hadhodrond, after the destruction of Nogrod and Belegost. The remaining four live east of Greenwood."

The envoy from that realm nodded. "We know about them, though we aren't in contact with them."

Of course thy were not. There was no one less likely to have any contact with dwarves than Oropher.

"What other news do you base this on?" Amroth wanted to know.

"The mentions of dragons sighted in the East were discussed in this council. From what little King Lómi was willing to tell me, the rings help strongly in amassing treasure – it gives him a sense of where to find precious metals, and no one can refuse him when he is bargaining with it on his hand. He himself became much richer since he's had it. And we all know what attracts dragons..."

"Does that mean a dragon is likely to attack Hadhodrond in the near future?" Amdír asked, alarmed.

"I don't believe so," Galadriel replied. "It's deeper than other dwarven realms, and better protected. Protected by our work. The dragons won't sense the gold there, I believe."

"You believe!" The Greenwood envoy exploded. "How close are you to Hadhodrond, and how close are we to the Red Mountains! If the dragons came, we'd be destroyed, and all a fault of the naugrim! It's treason to speak to them, treason!"

Galadriel sighed. They had had a long conversation with Amdír about discussing the subject in a council with a Greenwood envoy present, but in the end, the need for the eastern Elves to know was bigger than any discomfort they might experience. That did not mean Galadriel was not irritated, especially as the distance between Greenwood and the Red Mountains was actually quite great. "Treason to whom?" She asked. "I can't commit treason to your king, as surely you know; and neither Amdír nor Gil-Galad consider it such. And allow me to remind you that if I hadn't been friendly to them, we wouldn't have discovered this at all." She paused. "Apart from the risk of dragons, it doesn't appear to be directly dangerous at the moment," she admitted unwillingly. "Gorthaur hasn't managed to bend the old king to his will in all the time he wore the ring, nor has King Lómi been broken. Dwarves aren't easily shaped to what others wish to have of them. I believe Gorthaur miscalculated in this. However...there are the nine remaining rings."

"Men?" Amdír asked.

"I fear so," Galadriel replied. "Elves wouldn't listen to him again, not even the Noldor, and he has no need to give it to some of his dark races – they're already his. But Men...I worry about Númenor. There's been some worrying news recently from that realm, and if they turned to darkness, they'd be a terrible foe to contend with."

Some of the Sindar present hesitated to believe that a realm of Men could be a danger to them, but Galadriel did not waste her time by trying to convince them. "I'll rush to Rivendell to inform Elrond," she said instead. "Think carefully on what's been said, and if you hear a word that might indicate the location of the other rings, I entreat you to share it." And hopefully Oropher would not be foolish enough to try and claim any of them for his own.

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Elrond listened to her news with a pronounced frown. "I must go to Númenórë," he said immediately when she finished, "and try to find out what I can."

"You have not noticed anything particular the last time you were there?"

"The kingdom is deteriorating further. Not in its might, but in its wisdom. The king, too, seems to be further and further from wisdom ever since he actually became king."

Galadriel frowned. "That might be precisely what it would look like if a ring or more was there. We do not know if the effect would be the same for Men as it is for dwarves, we do not even know if they have the same sort of rings. And the rings cannot be seen unless you concentrate. I could only see Lómi's ring since I knew about it, and I could see the one on the finger of the head of the Belegost line as well once I knew what I was looking for. Before, I could not. You will be looking for it, so you might be able to see it, but there is no guarantee."

"I will do what I can." He paused to think. "Could you possibly stay in Rivendell during my absence? It might be longer than usual this time."

"Perhaps not the entire time, but I will do my best to stay longer. Do you not trust Lalvon?"

"He is a good councillor, but he is not quite confident enough to run things on his own."

Or was it that Elrond did not have enough confidence in him? But she did not wish to bring that topic up again. "What about Lord Laurefindil?" She asked instead.

"He has no trouble with confidence, certainly, and I trust him with my life," he replied, "but perhaps less so with running my realm."

Galadriel laughed. "It is true," she admitted, "that ruling is not in his nature. But if you leave detailed enough instructions, he will do fine, and I will be close at hand enough to help if there is any uncertainty."

"There is likely to be less here than in Númenórë," Elrond muttered. "I was last there for Atanamir receiving the Sceptre, and it was not a pleasant experience. I will not be received warmly, if I will be received at all. But I have to try. Silmariën's descendants will see me, at any rate, but they would not be the ones to have the ring."

Galadriel pressed his hand in sympathy, well aware how it hurt him to watch his brother's children turn away from the light. "At least you will see Artanáro," she said. The king could not afford to come to Rivendell more often than every two decades or so.

"Yes, and I will give him your message. His people still go to Númenórë frequently, mainly for the sake of Silmariën's line now. They are there more often than I am. They might notice something, might already have noticed. I will ask them in detail before setting sail."

Galadriel nodded and pressed his hand again. "Have strength," she said.

Elrond departed in a few days, and Galadriel settled into making sure everything in his home was in order. She would stay four or five months, she decided, and then she would go back. It appeared Sauron was getting back on his feet, and she did not wish to leave the kingdom she now owed allegiance to alone for too long, not even if it meant Lord Laurefindil had to run Rivendell for a while.

"I hear," she told him after dinner one evening, "that Elrond does not quite trust you with his realm."

He laughed. "I would not trust myself either," he said. "I need Erestor for this kind of thing. I hope Lord Elrond will bring him back with him when he returns."

"How long since you have last seen him?"

Lord Laurefindil sighed. "A year. If I did not have enough reason to hate Sauron already, this would certainly ensure it."

"What are your estimates for this war, then? What do you believe we should do next, and what will Sauron do?"

The look he gave her was amused. "Surely you know these things better than I."

"Perhaps in some ways." She looked into her Mirror with regularity, but it did not give her many answers. "In military strategy, you are my superior."

"Yes, but then this is not truly military strategy, as the case of your realm plainly showed. It is more than that." He paused, and at her expectant look, added: "I cannot make any guesses when it comes to these matters, but as far as purely military strategy goes...if our information is correct, he will be strong enough to attack again in a few centuries, unless we do something, hinder him in some way."

"Well, the last time we tried that, Hollin paid the highest price. What if he has another plan like that ready for us?"

"We were too open last time. We need more secrecy, more caution in our preparations. He must not find out."

"Can he not find out, though?" Galadriel asked. "It is only logical, after all. He knows we know he is still there, and active as ever. He must know we would be preparing for war."

Lord Laurefindil considered this problem. "Then we will need a ruse, to make him believe something else is going on. Make him believe we are too broken by our losses to do anything. He fears you and Artanáro, my lady, and you both suffered heavily by his attack on Hollin. Let him believe that instead of being motivated for justice and vengeance, you are broken beyond repair and do not pose any more danger to him."

Galadriel thought about his suggestion. "Yes," she said. "This might actually work. I hope it is not too late to implement this plan...but yes, Sauron just might be vain enough to believe it."

Especially, she realized, as she did not renew Hollin. Her reasons would not be comprehensible to him, so lot him believe it was because her spirit was broken instead.

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She stopped to visit King Lómi on her way back to Lindórinand again. However, her reception was much less warm this time. "You told them about the rings!" Lómi said furiously, waving a letter at her. She could imagine where it came from.

"Of course I did," she replied sharply. "What did you expect? As long as it was only your ring, given to you by Celebrimbor, it was one thing. I could respect your wish to keep it secret. But your subjects, by their choice, accepted gifts from Gorthaur and made Hadhodrond a potential danger to all Middle-Earth. They also provided us with a clue to what Gorthaur is doing with the rings. I can't keep such information to myself."

"Did you truly expect them to refuse? They're shamed and humbled by the loss of their kingdoms. They saw this as a chance to reclaim some of their glory. You can hardly ask me to cast them out because of that. Besides, this was the safest option. We're mightiest of all dwarven kingdoms, and if the rings didn't go to us, they'd go somewhere else, somewhere where there¨d be more risk."

"You should also aim to be the wisest," Galadriel retorted. "Especially as you dwell next to Hollin and you knew of my troubles with Gorthaur while I was still its queen. I don't blame you for not casting your kin out, but why didn't you tell me immediately, why didn't you make it known? You had all the information you needed to understand why the rings were dangerous."

"And we used them. We gave Gorthaur nothing in return, and we use his gift for our own good. We pose no danger."

"And if dragons come upon you?" She could not help asking.

"If all dragons of Morgoth came, they wouldn't have strength enough to defeat Khazad-dûm."

Galadriel's rage flared. "Speak not of what you don't know!" She said sharply. "I've seen all of the Enemy's dragons come, and an army of Maiar was needed to bring them down. Ancalagon the Black was so great that he could make the brightest day seem like darkness, and when he fell, he broke the towers of Thangorodrim. If all of Morgoth's dragons came, all of the free peoples of Middle-Earth would perish. Only the smallest dragons are left here, and they would be enough to destroy your kingdom, once it was noticed. Secrecy is your best hope now."

The king looked away. "Forgive me, lady," he said at length. "Sometimes I...forget. I know you were here when I was born and your age remains almost unchanged, but it's still difficult to keep in mind how much lives in your memory, and that you remember the age before this one."

Galadriel gave him a slightly amused look. "I remember the age before the Sun rose for the first time, and Lady Arien was still walking in Aman, her eyes almost too bright to bear."

"As yours are, sometimes," he returned, not looking at her.

"Then you could, in truth, not have borne Lady Arien, for I am nothing but a pale shadow of even the form she took while still in Valinor."

The king chuckled unexpectedly. "If there's one phrase I'd never use to describe you, it'd be 'pale shadow'. I've never met another who burns so bright."

Ages ago, Galadriel would have seen this as praise, but for many centuries now she thought of Fëanáro at such words and trembled instead.

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While finding out where the rings of power were was a priority, it was not the only work that needed to be done to keep the peoples of Middle-Earth free from their influence. To that end, Galadriel reluctantly went to Avorneth with a task.

Reluctantly, that was, because it was barely a year after her wedding, and Galadriel wished she could give her more time to simply enjoy Ealc's company. But war was war.

"Yes, of course I will help you, Aunt," Avorneth said. "Gladly. But I am not certain if...it is what I always tell you. All I can give you are theories."

"You said the same thing when you discovered how to make the Mirror, and it works perfectly – too perfectly, I sometimes think." Some of the dark images it showed her reappeared frequently in her nightmares.

"Only after Túron made countless small adjustments that I could not have predicted in my rough draft," Avorneth pointed out. "And that is what I am saying. My theories are often wrong in small but important ways. That does not matter when they can be tested and adjusted later, by those who are capable of doing so, but we do not have any rings to test this on, do we?"

Galadriel hesitated for a moment. "Perhaps Túron or others would still manage to find some way to test it," she said then. "Will you walk with me to the Noldorin city?"

Avorneth gave her a long look, then nodded sharply and they set out.

"So," she said when they were outside the capital, "what is it that you did not wish to say in front of Ealc?"

"I apologize," Galadriel replied. "But this is something only Celeborn, Elrond and your grandfather know." She paused. "I have one of the rings."

Avorneth stared at her. "One of Sauron's rings of power?"

Galadriel was darkly amused of this echo of her conversation with King Lómi a century ago. "No," she said. "A ring like the ones Ealc carried to Lindon."

"Oh. My father left one of them with you," Avorneth realized. "I should have known."

"Would that be enough to experiment on?" Galadriel asked.

Avorneth pondered the matter. "I am not certain. I will have to think about it, and consult with Túron and others."

"It is also crucial that Sauron does not realize experiments are being done," Galadriel added. "He does not know about these rings."

Avorneth nodded. "I am aware. I will do my best."

"If it is impossible," the older elf continued, "then perhaps we could try to convince King Lómi to let you work with his ring. It would take some work, though."

"I hope he would give me some courtesy in my father's honour," Avorneth replied. Perhaps she was right. King Lómi liked Galadriel – or had, before she let the Sindar know about his ring – but the respect afforded Tyelperinquar's memory in Khazad-dûm was unmatched by any other elf.

"I will likely need more people than Túron," Avorneth continued. "Good, skilled craftsmen I can trust. I do not know those from Hollin as well as I should. When I still lived there, I was not interested enough, and now I only go to the Noldorin city rarely."

"We will ask Feliel and Túron for help, then."

Feliel welcomed them cheerfully, as was her wont.

"Two such esteemed visitors in one day," she said, "what did I do to deserve the honour? How is married life, my lady?" She added, turning to Avorneth. "Allow me to congratulate you again."

"Thank you. I am exceedingly happy."

"Who would not be, with such a charming and witty wife?" Feliel remarked, smirking.

"Might I point out that she is my wife," Avorneth said, her face serious – but there was mirth dancing in her eyes.

"Finders, keepers, I suppose," Feliel said with a laugh. Then, she finally grew serious. "I assume there was something you needed in truth?"

"We are here to consult your craftsmen, actually," Galadriel explained. "We will need recommendations for such that are both skilled and trustworthy."

"Let me call Túron, then, and we will consult. We are all at your disposal, my lady, whatever you need."

And this, this ability to be completely in earnest in spite of cheerfully joking just moments before, was the reason why Feliel was the perfect ruler of this Noldorin town, and why Galadriel would always trust her with it fully. Especially with Aseanettë by her side.

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AN: Poor Lómi had a glimpse of Galadriel's power there. It shakes a guy.

Also, there's an aesthetic to Evorneth and Elc's wedding in my "the nolde"/"the nolde verse" tag on my tumblr. I am absolutely terrible with photoshop, so it looks accordingly, but my girls were getting married. I could not not celebrate.