AN: So, legendarium ladies April is here again, and this year, I decided to celebrate it by actually starting to post again.

I'm sorry. I cant even really say what happened. I just had a sudden bout of real life productivity, and felt like I should make use of it, since these things don't happen often, and don't last long. I'd like to say I'll make it up to you, but I'm not promising anything.

Just a reminder for those who forgot what was happening: early third age, pretty much everyone is happy - as far as elves can be happy in the third age – and all is peaceful, except some dragon movement in the East, but that was terminated by Glorfindel for now.

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Chapter 76: Movement

Year 704 of the Third Age, Lindórinand

The mellyrn were growing well and strong under the protection of the Ring of Water, and soon enough, they began to spread further and further from the hill with Galadriel's fountain, into the wider forest. It was not only an occasional mallorn that could be found away from the hill, now, it was a forest of its own created by them, permeating the original Lindórinand.

That, of course, meant some danger for the other trees, which were small and frail compared to the mellyrn.

Galadriel had asked Celeborn for help at first, and he in turn consulted some other Sindar, but none of them had experience with mellyrn, and so none of them could help.

That meant Galadriel handed her ring to Celeborn once again, and journeyed to the last remnant of the Great Forest this side of the mountains.

Treebeard came to see her soon enough. "I need your help," she said plainly.

He looked surprised, as much as he could look anything. "You didn't need my help once in all the time I have known you, my lady. And it's a long time. Even for one like me."

"You helped us in the Land of the Willows," Galadriel opposed. "You protected us."

"Aye, we helped you. That's true. But you didn't need our help. There's a difference. What is it that you need?"

"It's the trees. I have planted mellyrn in Lindórinand-"

"Mellyrn!" A smile slowly bloomed on his face. "Now there's a reason to finally heed your invitation. A reason to come to your forest. I know of those trees. I've seen the images of them in many minds. But I've never met them in person." He trailed of clearly caught in the pleasant idea of that meeting. "But what do you need help with?" He asked then. "The mellyrn are not unhappy, are they?"

"No, but the other trees could be. The mellyrn grow strong and tall, and..."

"Ah, I understand. Yes, I'll help you, to be sure. Not many Men come near this forest now. It should be safe enough to leave it in care of the others...for a time. Expect me in your forest before long."

And he did come, not too much later, before the year was through. It was a wonder for most of the elves in Linórinand, who had never seen an ent in their life, and many came to gape in spite of Galadriel's disapproval.

There were others who had better reasons to go and see him, though. Celeborn greeted Treebeard as an old acquaintance, and was glad to remember his brother and mother with him. The memories always brought grief, but also a melancholy kind of happiness that hid in joyful stories of the past that could be shared. Galadriel left him to it, and he spent several days with Treebeard.

Then, finally, it was time for the old ent to go speak with the mellyrn and the other trees.

Galadriel had intended to stay for the whole duration, but it was a slow, tedious process, and soon enough she was called away by other duties and only came to see Treebeard every few days or so, to make certain he did not need anything.

The entire negotiation took more then a month. When it was done, Treebeard waited for Galadriel to appear again, engaging in what the Nolde assumed was the tree version of small talk.

"If you'll agree," he rumbled when she came, "I'll herd the trees that are not mellyrn into one part of the forest. It'd give the great trees enough space."

"I can't decide this," Galadriel replied. "It's not my realm, and Amroth and the Silvan need to know what would happen and decide on their own."

Treebard agreed to that with an approving rumble. "Councils are a good way to decide things," he said. "Wise way. We have them too, sometimes. When important happenings are afoot."

And so Galadriel called the council and explained the situation. She had feared there would be protests that her trees were taking over the forest, but the mellyrn were too beautiful for anyone to complain.

"I wouldn't want the other trees to perish for them," Amroth said, "but if they're just to be moved, I have no objection.

"As long as they won't object to us living in the treetops," Ealc added.

This condition was related to Trebeard, who returned with the message that no, the mellyrn did not object to being lived in, and so the matter was settled and the moving of the trees began.

This was an amazing thing to watch even to Galadriel. It was slow, so very, achingly slow, and yet it was still no doubt happening and she wondered at the power behind the Shepherd of Trees, the power Lady Yavanna had invested them with, to move what was otherwise immovable.

She entire forest stopped for a week as they all watched the trees move. Celebrían, Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir came specifically for that from Rivendell, and Elrohir was fascinated.

"Can you actually see them move?" His brother asked him.

"No," Elrohir shook her head. "But when I turn away, and then I turn back, I can see that they are in a slightly different place."

Elladan shook his head. "I'm going to the mountains," he declared. "If I tried to wait here any longer, I'd grow roots, too."

He had to go alone, though, for no one else was willing to accompany him. Even Arwen, who usually had little enough interest in nature, watched intently, trying to find a way to capture it in a painting.

Elrohir, meanwhile, felt challenged by his brother and was trying to spot just the moment they moved. "It has to be possible!" He insisted. "It has to!"

Galadriel only smiled.

When it was all done, Celebrían with her children departed and mellyrn and other trees both had room to grow, Treebeard prepared to return to his forest. "Thank you for this, my lady," he said.

"You are thanking me?" She asked, amused. "It was I who needed help."

"Yes," he agreed, "but I was refreshed by seeing the mellyrn and speaking to them. A refreshment I much needed." He gave a rumbling sigh. "Did you know we lost the entwives?"

"Lost? How?"

"We don't know. They're not where they used to be. The lands where they lived were changed. We can't find them anywhere."

"None of them?"

"None."

Galadriel shook her head at a tragedy like that. "Surely you will see them again..."

"Perhaps. I don't know. The world is changing. I don't think it's in favour of ents."

"Do you want me to look into my Mirror?" She offered. "It could tell me if you'll find them, and perhaps even where they are."

Treebeard, however, shook his massive head. "No," he rumbled. "I don't want to know. What will come will come. I have to return now. I'll come back when you have more mellyrn...to herd the trees again."

Galadriel agreed, and bid him goodbye, grieved at the idea of no more ents, added to the many other losses and tragedies of the last war.

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Other travellers came to Lindórinand not long afterwards, and they were much more unexpected than Treebeard had been.

There was no evil intention in them, so Galadriel's spells let them in without her particularly noticing them, but soon a whisper started in Lindórinand, a whisper about a copper-haired elf having come to the realm, accompanied by a human woman.

It was Avorneth who brought Galadriel the news. They met at a singing competition Ealc was about to participate in, in one of the settlements out in the forest, and instead of a more customary greeting, Avorneth opened with: "Have you heard the most recent news?"

Galadriel has heard about a variety of things from the locals so far, but nothing that would warrant such enthusiasm, so she shook her head.

"It seems we have true Avari in the realm, for the first time since we came!"

"From the East?" Galadriel asked, surprised. "What are they doing here?"

"I do not know. I have only just heard that someone saw them – or him, I should say, since it is only one copper-haired elf, and a human woman with him."

Galadriel raised her eyebrows. "Nerdanel was red-headed, and so were three of her sons, and I do not think Nelyafinwë would have taken kindly to being call an Avar. So unless your sources base the news on something else..."

Avorneth shrugged. "You are right, we do not know for certain. Still, he would have to be at least partly an Avar, would he not? Lady Nerdanel's father was not a Noldo, or was he?"

That idea amused Galadriel. "He most certainly was," she replied, but then admitted: "I am less certain about his mother. She was one of those who woke first at Cuiviénen, I know that much. I suppose she was of a different clan. Certainly no one ever called her an Avar, but then, she set out for the Great Journey with the Noldor, so it would not have made sense..."

"It is interesting, at least, is it not?"

"Most certainly," Galadriel agreed, and in fact, overcome by curiosity, she searched these newcomers out soon after the competition ended.

When she arrived to the Silvan settlement where they dwelt, on the edges of the forest, she found the rumours had not been exaggerated: the elf's hair were the exact shade of copper, the sun making them shine bright red.

She had not seen such a thing since Nelyafinwë perished, and she looked now in astonishment. Avorneth was almost certainly right. He was a true Avar, not one of the Nandor she was used to seeing and who were sometimes mistakenly called that by other Eldar.

True Avar, of those who had never set out on the Great Journey.

He was sitting in the grass under an oak, a woman next to him, when Galadriel found him. He sensed her approach, and rose and turned to her.

"Greetings," she said in slow Sindarin, unsure if he spoke the language.

"Greetings," he returned, completely fluent, with a bow. "You are Lady Galadriel, if I'm not mistaken."

"Indeed," she confirmed, surprised. "And you are…?"

"Birik is my name, and this-" he pointed to the dark-haired human woman next to him, with eyes unlike any Galadriel had ever seen, who rose as well, "is my wife, Hana."

Galadriel blinked, astonished, but quickly rallied herself as much as she was able. "Welcome to our forest," she said, trying to sound friendly through her surprise. "From where do you come to us, if I may ask?"

"From many places across Middle-earth," Birik answered. "Do you wish to know where we are from, or where we lived last?"

"Both, if you don't mind sharing," she replied with a smile.

"We come from far East," he said. "I'm Nore by birth, and Hana is what you call an Easterling, I believe."

Galadriel sighed. "We Noldor like to be proud of our lore," she said, "but I have to confess that while I've at least heard of the Easterlings – though I don't know that much more, just the name and some little history – I've never heard of Nore."

"We lived by the inland sea far to the East from here," Birik explained.

"Rhun?" Galadriel asked to make sure. She did know that place from the maps.

"Yes, that's what the Sindar call it."

"How come," Galadriel wondered, "what we have the sea in our maps, but not the kingdom that lies there?"

Birik laughed. "Nore isn't a kingdom," he said.

Galadriel immediately felt ashamed for that assumption. "Of course. Forgive me. Living with the Silvan, I should know that there are other ways to live. Still, we should've had some note of you there."

His good mood receded somewhat as he replied: "I'm not surprised you didn't. Nore isn't...friendly to strangers. They wouldn't have talked to your explorers."

His expression, which had been open at the beginning of the conversation, closed off as they discussed the place where he came from, and Galadriel understood he did not wish to discuss it. Not wantign to push, she turned to Hana. "Are you from around Rhun as well?"

"Yes. That's how we met. We've lived in Greenwood for the last several centuries, though," she added.

"And what made you come here?"

"The king is moving the kingdom North. We didn't want to go – the cold doesn't suit us, and neither do the mountains – and so we chose to try our luck here."

"You wish to stay, then?" Galadriel assured herself.

"If we're allowed," Hana confirmed.

"We'd be happy to have you," Galadriel replied. Lindórinand was not generally welcoming to strangers, much like the mysterious Nore, but Greenwood elves had traditionally been the exception, given the historical ties. It was a little worse since the war, given how many inhabitants of Lindórinand blamed the Greenwood rulers for their dead, but still the custom persisted enough that they were not turned away from the borders. Besides, no one would believe Birik had anything to do with how the war went. Those with no share in Greenwood's power were still treated as friends here. And if Hana was his wife, as astonishing as that was, then she would be welcome as well.

"You should know," Birik added, "that we have two daughters, too. They're trying their luck in Gondor now, but if we decide to settle here, they'd come to live with us, I assume."

"I trust they are good people," Galadriel replied with a smile, "and so they'd be just as welcome as you."

Birik and Hana both bowed their heads in thanks.

"Do you wish to see the capital?" the Nolde asked. "I would be glad to take you there when I return, but I do not wish to shorten your pleasures here."

"There is a stage improvisation competition to take place tomorrow, I believe," Birik replied. "We'd like to stay for that. Afterwards, we'll be glad to come."

And they did, a few days later. Galadriel had a house prepared for them already, and asked them to dine with her the evening of their arrival.

"You're very good to us, my lady," Birik said when she received them at the door.

"I'll not deny," she replied, "that part of the reason is my curiosity. But I will not brother you with questions unless you wish to be asked."

Birik and Hana smiled ta each other. "Ask," he said. "We're used to it."

"I was surprised when I saw you," Galadriel admitted. "I had believed, for a very long time, that my friend Idril was the only elf to ever be granted the mercy of having her spouse gain the fate of the elves."

"Is it true, then?" Hana asked eagerly.

"Is what true?"

"That there is another elf this has happened to."

"Yes," Galadriel confirmed as she led them to the table. "She was my good friend, and a princess of one of the greatest elven realms to ever exist on this shore. He was the son and heir of one of the heads of clans of the Second-born. They married and had a son, and then, in time, they sailed West. For a long time I worried, but when our armies came from the West to fight the Enemy, I was finally secure in the knowledge that they both live in there, happy."

Birik shook his head in wonder. "This sounds like myths and fairytales to us," he said,"and yet I see you say it in complete seriousness. There are truly your people who sailed West, and who came back?"

That was the part of the story they found difficult to believe? "Surely you must have heard about that from the Sindar in Greenwood?" She asked as she poured out the wine.

"We never had many friends in that realm, to be truthful, and even less among the Sindar. We lived on the outskirts."

"Then I suppose this must be a little strange for you, yes." Galadriel smiled. "I was born in the West."

Birik stared. "Truly?"

"Yes, though we came back a long time ago," Galadriel explained and motioned for them to help themselves to the food that was on the table. Celeborn was dining with Amroth that evening. "Do you have stories about the departure for the Great Journey at all?" She asked curiously.

Birik frowned. "I'm not sure if that is what you mean, but we do have stories about those elves, at the very beginning, who left for the promised bliss of the West. Some become the Silvan, and some were never heard of again."

It sounded very grim put this way. Galadriel's smile broadened. "Well, it is us."

He considered this information. "We gathered that the Sindar were the remnants of that host, left on the shores of the impassable sea...but you are something different still, are you not? Your hair's different, and you spoke of them as if you were not one of them."

"It's true. The Sindar were left on the shore, as you said, but we, the Noldor, and the golden-haired Vanyar from whom my grandmother came, were taken across. Later, the Teleri, brothers of the Sindar, came as well. Most live happily there still, but some of us Noldor...returned."

"I am a little surprised there truly was a West to take you to. It always sounded like a place of legend. What made you return? Was it not quite the promised land the envoys spoke of?" Birik asked curiously.

"It was, at first, for most of us," Galadriel replied. "But evil came even there." She shook her head. "It's a long story. Perhaps some other time. But tell me...I've heard a mention of a legend about you some centuries ago. It spoke, also, of a brother of yours, who chose the opposite fate with Hana's sister. Is there any truth in it?"

Birik smiled a sad smile. "Gilja wasn't my brother, though he could have just as well been, by how close friends we were."

"And Mari wasn't my sister," Hana added. "She was my cousin."

"But apart from that, it's a true story," Birik confirmed. "Gilja found his Second-born bride first. He fell in love with her, and said that he'd find a way to give up his immortality to be with her. I, to my shame, did my best to convince him otherwise. He took me to meet his bride, then, to show me the error of my ways. That's how I met Hana."

"He felt ashamed," Hana continued, "for he loved me, but still didn't want to give up his life. We married nevertheless, in time, and neither of us knew what would happen. But gradually, we realized that I wasn't growing older, or not as quickly as Mari was at least. That was when Gilja told us what deal he made."

Galadriel had never expected that part to be true. "So you truly believe it was an...exchange of immortality?" She asked. It sounded very strange indeed.

"We don't know," Hana replied. "We only know that Gilja prayed that if he would die, I be allowed to live, and that's what happened."

Galadriel wanted to protest, wanted to say that surely, it could not be this easy, not when her brother had lived with his broken heart for so long because he feared the bitterest parting. But then she remembered how she had prayed for Itarillë, that she be spared, and how her friend and her husband both lived. It might have not only been for her prayer, but still...

"Yes," she said. "I suppose the power of prayer can do much."

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The very next day after her dinner with Birik and Hana, Galadriel contacted Elrond to share the news with him.

He, too, was rather incredulous.

I will have to come and see those wonders of yours, he said. There must be more behind the grace they were given.

It seemed so to me at first, too, Galadriel replied. But then, was there more behind Itarillë's grace? Why was she allowed to sail West, and why was Tuor granted that very special mercy?

I had always assumed, Elrond replied, that her grace was because if he was to be granted the elven fate, it had to be in the immortal lands. But if this Hana could be granted the same here...then why did they take my grandmother West?

Galadriel mentally shrugged. It is the Valar who grant passage West, she said, but it is only the One who could change the fate of his Child. Perhaps I am too influenced by Celeborn, but it seems to me that these wills are not always the same. The One, it seems to me, does not particularly care about where and when he chooses to change someone's fate.

It calls into question many things I have always believed about how the world works, Elrond confessed. Yes, I would very much like to speak to them.

Then come whenever you have time, and I will introduce you.

He contacted her about the very same thing the next day, though it was not yet to announce he would be coming to Lindórinand.

I told Arwen about your discovery, he said, and she has all number of questions, and insists she has to meet these wondrous newcomers as soon as possible.

You say it in such a condescending tone, Galadriel said, amused, and yet was not your own reaction exactly the same?

Elrond laughed. I suppose, he said. But you did not see her. I do not believe I have ever heard her so excited in her entire life. Elladan commented that had he known this was the way to awaken enthusiasm in her, he would have set out East to find characters from legends for her a long time ago.

The twins were not interested, then?

Well, you know them. It caught their attention, but not as much as if I told them there was a lake or a mountain of particular beauty to be found somewhere. It certainly had nothing on your moving trees. They seem fully satisfied with hearing the story from you, through me. Though, to be fair, Elrohir was a little more interested when he heard about Birik's daughters.

Galadriel chuckled. Does he feel that it is time he felt the Flame already?

I do not believe so. I believe it is merely the idea of other half-elven in the world that attracts him. He never knew any, apart from me and his siblings.

Galadriel sighed. She had never quite realized that, but it was true, of course. Elros's descendants hardly had anything of elves left in them now. It was a long time since they were counted among the half-elven.

It will be a while until the daughters come here, from what I understood, she said. They are travelling through Gondor now.

Then they have no immediate impetus to journey to you, at least. It is a good thing, for they were there very recently, and truly, we have more than enough to keep us busy here.

What do you mean?

Trouble in Arnor, he replied, clearly disgruntled. Its princes are arguing among themselves.

About?

Taxes, but I do not truly believe it matters. The actual contention between them is the preference of different parts of the realm.

Galadriel only sent him a question back, and so he continued: Annúmias is the capital, as you know, but its location is not exactly central, and less and less people live there. Fornost is the most populated city now, and its lord keeps insisting that the capital should move to follow the people. Now that, in turn, is opposed by the lord of Tharbad and the brother of the current king. He insists that too much influence would accumulate in Fornost that way, and that keeping the capital in Annúmias keeps the situation more balanced. And then the lords of the eastern part of the kingdom are contrary to everything, as is their habit. He sighed. Elladan and Elrohir have gone there many times as my envoys, trying to convince them to come to some kind of agreement, but with little success.

Well, I do not mean to insult them in any way, but...are you certain my grandsons are the ones who should be sent on diplomatic missions? I do not know if they have the right nature, especially Elladan.

She could feel him shrug. I cannot leave Rivendell as often as dealing with this personally would require, not even in these times of peace. There is always something calling my attention.

Galadriel thought about it. And what about Arwen, would she not agree to go?

I suppose that if I asked her, she would, but she does not like travelling much, and as you know, is much more interested in politics of the past that that of the present.

That was true enough. Galadriel considered the problem some more. Should I send Feliel to you? She asked.

Elrond laughed at the suggestion. I do not doubt that she would be capable enough, he replied, but unfortunately, she has no authority among the people of Arnor. No, we have to sort this out ourselves. I only hope it will not end in a kin-strife.

You fear it could go that far? Galadriel asked, alarmed.

A few years ago, I would have said it was impossible, Elrond replied. But now? I do not know.