Chapter 72: Beginnings
Year 109 of the Third Age, Lindórinand
Galadriel knocked on the door of Celebrían's flet, and after being asked to enter, found her daughter in Avorneth's company. "I need to speak with you, beloved," she said, and Avorneth, understanding immediately, left without bothering with an excuse.
"What is it, Mother?" Celebrían asked once they were alone.
"It is about the wedding." Galadriel hesitated. She had put off this conversation for a very long time, knowing there was great potential for pain in it both for her and for Celebrían, but now there was no more time left. I dread this more than I dread Sauron, she realized, amused, and that made it easier to ask: "Do you wish for me to put your hand in Elrond's, or do you want Celeborn to do it?"
Celebrían looked at her calmly. "You wish to lead Elrond," she stated.
Galadriel exhaled. "I do," she admitted, "but I would not as much as consider it if I did not, at the same time, think you would prefer your father to be the one to give you away. You are my daughter, Celebrían, and I love you. This is your birthright, should you wish to claim it."
"And so you would leave Elrond without any support on his wedding day?" Celebrían asked archly.
Galadriel gave her daughter a hard look. "Do not try to trap me. If it came to it, I would hold both of your hands and join them together, but that is not what you want, is it?"
"No," Celebrían admitted, still in that same, serene tone.
"Then you will be given away by Celeborn?" Galadriel reassured herself.
"I will."
Galadriel found this end of the conversation deeply unsatisfactory, but somehow there was nothing else to say. She looked at her daughter for a long moment, but Celebrían was silent, and so Galadriel left, hoping Avorneth would return soon.
On her way back to her own house, she searched for Elrond's mind through the ring of water on her finger. Your future wife, she said when she found him, is sometimes very difficult to deal with. You should be prepared.
Have you agreed, then?
Yes. I will give you away.
She could feel his relief, and then his mind turned questioning. Difficult in what way? He asked.
In response, Galadriel showed him the scene in her memory. The way the rings strengthened mind speech was one of their most useful properties – she could communicate more easily with everyone now, but with the other ring bearers, she spoke at any distance as easily as if she stood face to face with them and talked aloud.
Do not blame her, Elrond said gently after he finished watching. I believe she feels guilty for preferring Celeborn to do it, even though she knows traditionally it is supposed to be you. That she tries to shift the blame for that on you...well, it is not, perhaps, a very honest thing to do, but…
Galadriel shook her head. It is not shifting blame, she said, it is justification. If I wish to lead you, then there is no blame for her in being led by Celeborn. I only wish she knew there would not be any even was she marrying someone else.
And have you told her so?
Galadriel sighed. No.
She could feel the sadness in Elrond's mind. I do not understand, he said, the love bond between the two of you. I can feel it there, from both sides, but...I do not understand.
No, Galadriel agreed, you would not. There are some things I will not tell even to you, beloved, and without them, you cannot understand.
Are you not worried Celebrían will tell me?
That made Galadriel smile, though it was a sad, bitter smile. She does not know either, she replied.
That left Elrond speechless, and so Galadriel continued her original argument: If she ever asks you about it, tell her I do not begrudge her her relationship to her father. Sarnel was led by her father as well, for she was closer to him. If something, I blame the tradition for pretending it always has to be the mother the daughter is closer to, and father for sons. I think Angaráto wished it could have been our mother who gave him away, but he did not want to hurt Father, and he was the first of us to marry…
And who gave you away, Aunt? Elrond asked curiously.
Have I never told you? No one. We both were without guidance on our wedding day. It was my wish.
Elrond laughed. I should have known it would be so, he said.
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The night of the wedding arrived, and Galadriel found herself preparing to lead Elrond up to the hill in front of the royal house, where Celebrían was already waiting. The bride was dressed in silver, grey and white and the moon shone in her hair, making her seem one of Varda's stars. Her father was behind her, and he looked like one of the mellyrn that grew by Galadriel's fountain.
Galadriel looked upon them and smiled. They were beautiful, both of them, and the wordless, flawless understanding between them was almost visible as they stood there, waiting, Celeborn in mute support of his daughter.
Elrond approached, dressed in deep burgundy himself, and Galadriel took his hand – it was shaking slightly – and led him to put it in Celebrían's, held by Celeborn.
The mutual love she felt in that moment, of everyone present, was so deep and unwavering that she almost staggered, overwhelmed. There was power in that moment, power fed by the two rings involved and by the participants themselves, who had enough of it, and power and love swirled together in a mix so strong that Galadriel had not known such a thing before. And then, when Celebrían and Elrond said her vows as she looked into Celeborn's eyes and they echoed them in their minds, the power surged and Galadriel could feel the visions press on her mind, shapeless as ever.
"What is it, my love?" Celeborn asked, noticing her distraction, immediately after Amroth pronounced Elrond and Celebrían husband and wife.
"Later," she murmured and went to offer her congratulations. Elrond noticed her distraction too, and she sighed, not wishing to burden him on his wedding day. "After you emerge from your bedchamber – in a month or so – I will explain," she told him, laughing, and ignored Celebrían's irritated look. Had Celeborn not been her husband, she might have thought her daughter incapable of enough passion for that, but as it was, she knew perfectly well that the Sindar, at least some of them, could be the perfect illustration of the saying that still water ran deep.
The celebration was loud and joyful, as it should be. With the help of the new kingdoms of Men, they had been able to clear the lands of any remaining orcs and so almost all from Rivendell were present, free deom their guard duty at least for a time. Some from Gondor and Arnor have deigned to come, too – not the kings themselves, but Arnor sent the king's heir, Prince Eldacar, and Gondor sent the king's grandson, Eärendil.
The latter made Galadriel feel a mix of longing and anger every time his name was mentioned. She did not understand the habit of the Second-born to wholly name their children after those that came before them. There were only two cases she knew of like that among the elves, Curufinwë and her own brother. And in both cases, it was because they were judged to be so much like their fathers that the name was justified.
She knew she could not faultthem for what was their own tradition. While King Elendil of Gondor and Arnor always reminded her of the Elendil she had known in Númenórë, she could hardly blame his heirs for the pain it caused her. That did not, however, made it any easier to accept.
Eärendil was not some princeling of Gondor, he was the son of her dearest friend and husband of Elwing who was almost like a daughter to her, and every evening when the Silmaril he carried appeared in the sky, Galadriel spoke to him.
Now that she had the ring, it was easier that ever to reach greater distances, and while she could not quite hear Ardamírë speak back, she did sense enough to know that he heard her and reacted to what she said, and sometimes, she had flashes of memories and feelings from him.
Calling the young prince of Gondor by this name was unacceptable.
Fortunately, she did not have to speak to him much apart from giving him the initial welcome, and she was enough of a politician to manage to be courteous and not to show how his name hurt her. She was glad to be away, however, and to find solace with Lord Laurefindil, who did not hesitate to ask her to dance.
"Why are you not leading Erestor onto the floor instead of me?" She asked him in good humour.
"He is only willing to dance when forced by threats of physical violence," Lord Laurefindil replied. "I do sometimes employ them, but it seemed wrong at a wedding."
Galadriel laughed. "Even among all the opposites I have seen joined by the Flame of the One," she said, "you just might be the most blatant case."
"It only seems so to you because you do not like my husband," Lord Laurefindil said good-naturedly.
She frowned at him. "I disliked Singollo a good deal more than I do your husband," she said, "and I was a closer friend to Lady Melian than I am to you, and I still saw the contrast between them as less."
"Erestor would be wounded, I am sure, that he does not have the first place in your dislike," Lord Laurefindil retorted with a laugh. "What were they like?" He asked then.
"Singollo and Lady Melian?"
He nodded.
"She was...well, you were born in Aman. Have you ever gone to see Lady Estë?"
"Not much, to my shame."
"That is a pity, for Queen Melian was much like that lady, and with something of Lady Yavanna in her too – or so I believe, since I never knew that Valië well. She was kind and patient and wise, with infinite tolerance for her husband's pecularities and not enough interest in the more day to day matters of the kingdom. Much of what a queen would normally do was done by Celeborn's grandmother."
"And the king?" He enquired, curiosity evident in his voice.
Galadriel sighed. "I find it hard to say a kind word about Singollo. He loved his wife and daughter, I suppose, in his own way – though not in any way I recognized, for there was very little respect in that love. He cared about his blood ties, that might be best what I can say about him. When he learned of the first kinslaying, it hurt him deeply, and not only because he had been deceived."
There was a pause as the dance led them away from each other, and when they met again, Lord Laurefindil said: "It is strange, is it not? I never knew King Olwë much, but from what I heard, he was very different."
"Yes, but then, is that truly so strange? I was more like my cousin than like any of my brothers, and they were each very different from each other, for all the love that was between them."
"You are right. Kin by blood and kin by character are not, frequently, the same thing at all."
After the one dance, Lord Laurefindil returned to Erestor and Galadriel went to speak with other esteemed guests present at the celebration. Feliel caught her attention, wishing to introduce a new singer that came to prominence through one of the Silvan competitions, and Galadriel was obliged to listen for a time before others claimed her.
Once the newlyweds have quietly slipped away, though, she took Celeborn's hand and led him in the direction of her fountain. "What's wrong, my love?" He asked.
"Nothing's wrong," she replied. "Just...The fate of the world is locked in this marriage. I could see it shifting as they said their vows."
He frowned. "Is this the way you felt when you saw the Silmarils?"
"Not entirely, though it's not dissimilar either. I believe their marriage will be very happy, and a child from it will change the world."
They were silent until they reached the fountain, and Galadriel poured some water from it into a basin, breathed at it and took a look.
"What is it? What do you see?" Celeborn asked when she did not answer for a long time.
"I don't understand," she said slowly. "I see a new king being crowned in Gondor, but I don't know what that has to do with either Elrond or Celebrían. It's hardly going to be their son! Besides, he was clearly a Man."
Celeborn took her in her arms. "Don't worry about it now," he said. "You say you feel they'll be happy together, and that's all that should matter on their wedding day."
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Galadriel had not been far off – it did take the newlyweds almost a month to be seen in public again. As soon as they appeared, however, Elrond sought Galadriel out, first to thank her for all the advice she had given him, and then to ask about her distraction on the night of the wedding.
"Come see for yourself," she offered. "I had a hint of a premonition, and with it the knowledge that the fate of Middle-Earth is somehow connected to your marriage. I think it is in a good way, too, but I do not understand what the Mirror shows me."
"Then I am very doubtful that I will."
"It might show you something else," Galadriel pointed out.
However, it did not. "A coronation in Gondor?" He frowned. "That is hardly changing the world, is it?"
"Yes, for one, and for another, what does that have to do with you?"
"I can imagine that – they are my brother's family, after all. I might be somewhat involved in educating the new king, for example – me and Celebrían both. But why would that be so important...do we know when this happens?"
"Unless there were any clues in your vision, then no." Galadriel made herself smile. "Do not worry about it now. It seems a good thing, and if it should pass, it will. You should return to Celebrían, I am sure she misses you already."
"Oh, I doubt that. She wished to see her father and Avorneth, and it will take her a while to talk to them properly."
"In that case, we have time to talk as well." She smiled at him again, more genuinely this time. "Are you happy?"
"Very much so. You were right, marriage is not something that can be described. I...I do not want to blaspheme, but sometimes it seems like I could almost feel the presence of The One between us."
"It does not only seem so. You know He is there."
Elrond smiled. "Well, He is everywhere," he pointed out.
"In a manner of speaking, yes, but more so in your marriage – in every marriage, as long as it was made freely and with love."
"Are there any other kinds of marriages?" Elrond wondered idly.
"I am thinking about Irissë," Galadriel admitted. "No one truly knows how her marriage happened, but she must have been willing at least to a degree, otherwise she would have faded. It is suspected, however, that Eol ensured her willingness by spells and deceit. What does that mean, then? Was it a true marriage in the eyes of the One?"
"Surely not."
"But they laid together – they had a son together. That is what truly makes a marriage. How could it not be? And yet, at the same time, how could it be? And what about Midhel?"
"Midhel?"
It was only then that Galadriel remembered she had never told Elrond that story in full. She sighed. "Do you remember her?"
"Very little. She was Tyelperinquar's mother, was she not? I recall a sad lady in the Isle of Balar..."
"Yes. She had good reasons for her sadness. I know more about the circumstances of her marriage than I do about Irissë's, and...it was a prison to her, a prison that nearly broke her spirit, and that made her sail West as soon as she could."
Elrond looked horrified, as he should be, and by way of an explanation, Galadriel added: "She was forced into it by a threat of violence. But she had a child, too. If lying together makes a marriage, how does the One look upon that, them? And what about their futures?"
"Futures?"
"Yes. Midhel is In the West, and Irissë might have left the Halls of Mandos by now, but what about Eol, will he ever be allowed to? Fëanáro will not, I am certain enough of that. Are Eol's sins of the same magnitude? He attempted to kill his own son, and killed his wife instead. Surely that kind of kinslaying is enough to ensure the same fate? Or Curufinwë's cruelty?"
Elrond looked at her for a moment. "It seems to truly weigh on your mind."
"It does," she admitted. "As far as we know, Grandfather Finwë was the only one allowed to marry again, yet there are at least three who, it seems to me, should be granted the same right: Aunt Nerdanel, Midhel and Irissë."
"Surely they will be, then? If King Finwë was?"
"That is what I cannot puzzle out. On one hand, yes, if my grandfather was granted that much simply because his wife died and refused to return, than surely Irissë, at least, who has been so cruelly betrayed by her so-called husband, should have the same chance. On the other hand...as far as I understand it, the fact that Míriel had the choice and refused to return to Finwë was crucial in their decision. Effectively, she gave him up. Eol might not do so with Irissë, however, and then what? Will she be forced to spend the rest of the ages of the world alone?"
"I am certain the Valar would not be so unjust."
Galadriel sighed. She had raised Elrond in trust of the Lords of the West – in more trust than she herself had. She did not regret it, for he did not deserve to have her bitterness, but it also meant he could hardly understand her now. "I hope not, as well. At any rate, I did not wish to cloud your newly married time by those dark thoughts. Forgive me."
He smiled slightly. "There is nothing to forgive, you know I enjoy discussing these things with you."
"You have strange taste, then!"
He looked a little sheepish at that. "Not specifically unhappy marriages, I admit," he said, "but the Valar and the One and the fates of the world. These are the rare moments when I am truly looking forward to Aman-" He paused. "Provided you come with us, of course."
"You might wait a long time, then."
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Any worries Galadriel had that Celebrían might have the same kind of selfishness in her she herself did disappeared when she learned that her daughter was pregnant, scarcely two decades after the wedding.
It was Elrond who let her know, naturally, through the rings. The first she felt from him was an absolute explosion of joy, one to equal only what he had felt during the wedding ceremony. She had an idea about what caused it, but it took a long while before he found the time to confirm her supposition.
I have the best news, he said just as she was about to start working on some organization issues for Amroth. Your daughter is expecting our first child.
Galadriel's feelings were mixed upon this announcement, and unfortunately, Elrond's phrasing made it impossible to mask it entirely. Through the rings, she was unable to stop the thought I would not call that the best news from escaping.
Why not? Elrond asked her, surprised and confused.
Forgive me, beloved. I did not mean for you to hear it.
Nevertheless, you did think it. Why?
I am happy that my daughter is expecting a child that she and you both look forward to and welcome to the world.
That is good to hear, but then I never doubted you would be, and it does not answer my question.
Galadriel sighed. Do you remember, she asked, how I once told you there were but three things I would not show you in my mind?
Yes.
This is the fourth one. Do not ask me about this, Elrond, for I will never tell you.
She felt the short answering pain in his mind and said, It is not like that.
I know. Forgive me. This is...well, I did not mean for you to hear this.
Will it help if I tell you that not even Celeborn knows?
That clearly shocked Elrond. But I thought… There was a long pause. Is this the same thing you told me not even Celebrían knows about, and that you would not tell me?
Please, beloved…
Forgive me. I will not pry.
I seem to have an unfortunate tendency to ruin the happiest moments of your life. First your weddings, with my premonitions and worries, then the announcement that your first child is to come into the world with my secrets…
You are instrumental in all the happiest moments of my life, Aunt. Do not doubt that.
Do not let Celebrían hear that, she might not be too happy to.
Elrond only sighed in response.
I am happy for you, though, I truly am, Galadriel reiterated. Can you sense anything about the child?
No. Would you look into the Mirror?
I can, but are you certain you want me to? Sometimes it is better not to know.
You would find out sooner or later, and if it is something dark, I would not leave you to carry the burden alone. Yes, I want to know.
And so Galadriel went, and looked, and took great care to hide her fears and worries about her daughter's safety deep inside her before she contacted Elrond again, letting only her joy show. It is not a child, Elrond, she told him with a smile. It is children.
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For elven nisi, childbirth did not normally present the danger it did for those of Men, but twins were a different case. Twins always meant a potential danger for the mother, during pregnancy and in labour both.
Galadriel, she had to admit, was worried.
She remembered well how hard the drain was for her when she was carrying one child, and the knowledge that her own daughter would have to give twice as much, and that she likely had less to give from...it was alarming.
She knew the story of Míriel too well, and too well remembered what grief it led to.
She tried to be hopeful, she tried to think of Aunt Nerdanel more, the lady who had gone through six pregnancies, one of them with twins, and still had fire enough left to stand up to her husband.
But she had heard rumours too, back those milennia ago in Aman, about how Nerdanel's statues were never quite as good or as frequently made after she had children as before them. She herself had been sometimes compared, by those who remembered her, to "young Nerdanel, before she married". And so not even the memory of Nerdanel gave her as much hope as it should have.
She tried to warn Elrond without alarming him. He was an excellent healer, after all, and was aware of most of the dangers himself, so she only gently reminded him and then went to Rivendell when the time came for the birth itself.
Lindórinand could do without her and the protection the ring provided for a while. If something happened to Celebrían while she was not by her side, she would never forgive herself.
Amroth was understanding enough when she told him she wished to leave, only asked her not to tarry too long after the children were born and everyone's health was ensured. He was more confident now in his role of the king, after the century he had to get used to it, but he was still as unhappy with it as ever. "If only my own people wouldn't see it as betrayal," he had told her, "I'd leave the rule to Celeborn and you and just go."
"Go where?" She asked him.
"I don't even know myself. Perhaps travel, perhaps go live with Thranduil for a time, try to help him. Just...away from the royal house, where everything reminds me of my father."
As it was, he at least spent as much time as he could on walks in the forest, and Galadriel and Celeborn both being absent at the same time would force him to give much more of it to his royal duties. And so Galadriel promised to come back as soon as possible.
She could sense Celebrían welcomed her with mixed feelings in Rivendell, or even stronger mixed feelings than was usual.
"Elrond is a capable healer, Mother," she said. "I am sure everything would have gone smoothly."
"He is also a new father," Galadriel replied. "Even he might get flustered under such circumstances. Besides, you know he has never sat in for a birth. It is, traditionally, work for the nisi."
"I want him there with me."
"Yes, I am aware."
Celebrían seemed to wait for something more, and Galadriel sighed. "I do not object," she said, "not that I think it would stop you. Perhaps if he was not a healer, I would have – the birth is not a pretty thing to look at, and not all neri could bear it easily – but he is one. He has been called to assists when there were unforeseen complications after birth enough times. Being present will do him no harm."
"But you want to be in charge." It was not a question.
"It was Elrond who asked me for that, because of my superior experience with childbirth. But it will be you, chiefly, who is in charge."
Celebrían scoffed, and Galadriel sighed again.
She did not wish to argue. She could sense that Celebrían had noticed certain nervousness the healers around her felt, and as a result, the new mother was a little worried herself, and masking it by being more contrary towards Galadriel than usual, just as before the wedding.
The Nolde smiled a little to herself as she went to talk to Elrond. Celeborn insisted Celebrían did not have his faults, but sometimes, they did shine through a little.
When the birth itself came, however, Celebrían was done with complaining, and followed all the advice Galadriel gave on increasing her comfort and making the matter quicker. The birth of twins was never going to be easy, or short.
It took several hours for the first child to come to the world, a boy who, as far as could be told from a newborn baby, was a spitting image of his father. Elrond took him from Galadriel immediately, and in that moment of respite, Celebrían held her son and Galadriel busied herself elsewhere to give them some privacy.
Soon enough, however, Elrond took the child from his wife to wash him and wrap him, as Celebrían prepared for more labour. No name was forthcoming, Galadriel noticed. She was not truly surprised. She did not expect Celebrían to follow the Noldorin naming tradition. In all she did and how she lived, except the regard for royal authority, Celebrían was a Sinda.
Elrond took care of the first child and handed him out of the room to Celeborn, who was waiting for just such occasion. Then, Celebrían needed their help again.
"How long, Mother?" She asked at one point, exhausted. The birth might not be as dangerous for elves as it was for the Second-born, but it was no less hard work.
"Not long," Galadriel reassured her. "I can see the child already. Just a while more. Have strength, beloved. Have strength."
And, true to her words, not long after the second son came into the world as well, and after setting eyes on him, Celebrían fell into grateful, exhausted sleep.
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AN: I just can't write bliss. This was supposed to be a chapter about how happy Elrond and Celebrían are together, and instead, I ended up effectively discussing rape in Middle-Earth and the chances of dying in childbirth. Go figure.