Chapter 77: Realms
Year 861 of the Third Age, Lindórinand
After decades of hesitation, Birik and Hana finally decided to settle in Lindórinand with finality. They had stayed in different settlements across the realm during the years, but in the end, they accepted Galadriel's invitation to live in the capital, a place that seemed to tickle Birik's curiosity.
"Your entire realm reminds me of Nore in some things," he commented, "and yet the capital, in others, makes me think of Magrandoro, and of course there are similarities to Greenwood as well."
As it frequently happened, Galadriel was a little lost in what he said. "Nore I remember to be a realm you used to live in. Is Magrandoro one as well?"
"I wouldn't call Nore a realm, exactly," he replied. "It was...or is, I suppose...Nore is its people. Where they stay at any given time is less important that who they are."
"Isn't that true of all of us?" She queried.
"Perhaps, but of them more so than of any other." He smiled, sadly. "I told you that Nore is what I'm by birth, and it's where the first millennia of my life were spent. Magrandoro, on the other hand, is a realm indeed, and we spent a long time there after we left Hana's people. The Sindar here, as you call them, are what reminds me of that, and all the royal flair."
"Is that a good thing?" He did not sound mocking, exactly, but Galadriel was not used to others regarding the Sindarin respect for royalty with understanding.
"That depends. Magrandoro is a happy realm, mostly. But we couldn't be happy there, not entirely, and that made us eventually move west instead."
Galadriel was insatiably curious about those unknown realms, but Birik and Hana offered only little on their own through the years and she did not want to pry. She had the impression they did not like remembering their past places of residence. "I hope," she said instead, "that you'll be happy here. Will you ask your daughters to come?"
"We already have," Hana replied. "They were in East Gondor last I know, so it'll take them a time to come here, but come they will."
And they did, not two months later. One had hair as jet black as Hana, tied in a very long braid, the other was copper-haired like their father. Both had their mother's eyes.
"This is Banja," Hana said, gesturing to the copper-haired nís, "our elder daughter."
She bowed deep, and Galadriel smiled at her. "Welcome to Greenwood," she said, and turned her eyes to the other young woman. "And this," Birik said, "is Tugu, our second and youngest."
The other nís bowed as well, though a little less profoundly, and then she looked around the house her parents had in the capital. "I hear," she said to Galadriel, "that you helped our parents get settled down. We're very obliged to you for your assistance and hospitality."
"It's nothing," Galadriel replied. "I'm sure your parents told you I'm driven by curiosity, chiefly, more than any selfless hospitality."
"There are worse things to be driven by," Tugu replied. "And being singled out by one of the rulers of this land is an honour, in any case."
"I'm not sure it isn't more of a curse sometimes," Galadriel remarked as Birik motioned them all deeper inside the house. "How did you find eastern Gondor?" She asked courteously.
"I'll say that I regard it as very ambitious of the kings of Gondor to call the lands theirs," Tugu replied. "In some places, they seemed to have never even heard of it, and mostly you'd find the authority of local lords respected more than that of Gondor."
"They're peaceful since Gondor came, though, or peaceful enough," her sister pointed out mildly.
"Yes, ever since Gondor slaughtered enough of the people there to eradicate whole villages, the land is very peaceful indeed," Tugu replied in bitterness.
With an uneasy glance at Hana, not wanting to offend, Galadriel said: "Well, the Easterlings did invade Gondor."
Tugu scoffed. "It's not as if Gondor was completely innocent, as if they weren't continually pushing towards the East, trying to expand into those lands. Now they have them, and they don't know what to do with them. And so many died for it, those who bore no guilt for the invasion of Gondor."
"Is this why you chose to go to Lindórinand, while your daughters tried their luck in Gondor?" Galadriel asked, turning to Hana as they all sat down in the main room.
"Yes," she admitted. "Knowing what happened recently, from the refugees of war who had arrived in Greenwood, I didn't wish to go to Gondor before I knew what the mood was...against my people."
"We've fled hate before," Birik observed. "We didn't wish to do it again."
"I hope no hate will find you here," Galadriel said, thinking a little uneasily of some of the Sindar. None of them would sneer at Hana for being from the East, that much was certain, but her being a Second born might be another matter.
"There's always some hate, everywhere," Birik replied stoically. "It only matters that there isn't enough to sour the rest."
Galadriel was saddened by this view of the world. He was right, she supposed, as far as speaking of the Arda Marred went, but still, it was grieving to her that he had such an experience of life. "If you have any trouble, don't hesitate to come to me," she told him, and his family. "I'm not all-powerful, but there's a good chance I'd be able to help, at least a little."
"We've lived in different places in our lives," Birik said, "and your realm is more open than most, with the many different cultures living together. I think it won't be too hard for us."
"It's better now than it was," Galadriel agreed, "and there¨s indeed a mix of elves here that I never knew before, but still, I don't know if I'd call it open. Go to Rivendell, if you wish to see what a truly open realm looks like, even if it's true there are no Silvan, or almost no Silvan, living there. But their door is open to everyone of good will. We guard our borders more firmly."
"You let us in," Birik pointed out.
"You're a small family, and coming from Greenwood. I'm not sure how well a bigger group of refugees, for example, would fare. And I know that if you were from somewhere else, and unknown to us, you wouldn't get across. Certainly Hana wouldn't be let in if she was without you – most people of this realm prefer not to have the Second born come, unless it's an official visit of royalty or something of the sort. Greenwood Elves, chiefly the Silvan ones, can cross our borders freely, but that's all."
Birik seemed to smile as she talked, but when she finished, his sigh sounded more sad than anything else. "You think your land's closed," he remarked. "If you knew Nore, you'd see a different meaning of the word. To us, or to me at least, this realm is open enough."
Galadriel could not quite restrain the curiosity from showing on her face at this point, and he gave another sad sigh. "Hana is why I had to leave Nore," he said. "It wasn't permitted to marry outsiders."
Galadriel could only stare. "But the Flame..."
"The Flame?" He repeated, uncomprehending.
"The love you feel for your spouse, the way you know whom to marry..."
"Ah. Well, by the teaching of my people, one could never feel that for anyone outside of Nore. That is why outside marriages were forbidden."
"But that must have been easy to disprove!" Galadriel pointed out. About a third of the Noldor, she thought, felt the Flame for someone outside the clan, and she did not think it would be that different among other groups.
"Not at all," Birik surprised her. "Our custom said that your mind was to be open to all of Nore, and closed to all others. And if your mind is closed, you can never truly feel the Flame, can you?" He shook his head. "I don't quite know, to this day, how my friend knew what he felt for Mari. Perhaps it was simply fate. But we both walked away from our people, and we were never admitted back."
Galadriel though of Singollo, and of his hatred of Beren. At first, she reflected that he would never have cast Lúthien out, but then she thought of his plot to kill Beren. It was hardly better that what Nore did to Birik, and it was just as efficient a way to ensure Lúthien did not marry this outsider Singollo disapproved of. Was it only because he was Second born, she wondered? Would it have been different had she fallen in love with a Noldo from Feanárö's host instead?
At the very least, she thought grimly, he would not have sent him for the Silmaril.
-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-
It is final now. Arnor broke into three separate kingdoms, Elrond announced one day as Galadriel was on her way from the mountains back to the capital.
The Nolde wished to restrain the bitter question that rose in her mind, but it was not possible in mind speech, and when Elrond saw her as clearly as he did. And so he heard her and answered: No, I could not prevent it.
I know you could not, beloved. Pay me no mind.
How can I, when my own guilt whispers the same.
She smiled without mirth. Should I tell you it was not your fault? She asked.
That would work better if I did not, in fact, see your mind, he commented bitterly.
She sighed. Do you know that I could see the bitterness Artanáro had against me for Narogrotto till the day he died? She asked.
But...he did not blame you. I know he did not blame you.
Rationally, no, and he always tried his hardest to push it back and pretend it did not exist, but of course a trace of that was in his mind, and I always saw it when I talked to him. You are a ruler, and as such, you make decisions and some of them do not work out. There is always guilt to go with it in your own mind, and blame in others' minds. I knew Artanáro did not truly believe it, and did not want to feel this way, and I beg you to realize the same.
Yet you never blamed me for not saving Hollin.
Galadriel laughed at that, a mirthless laugh. There was no room for anyone's blame but mine. She sighed again, feeling like they had had this discussion many times. I told you this with Númenórë already. The kingdoms of Men are not your responsibility, for all you feel protective about the descendants of your brother. You may help them when they ask, but it is their fate.
But on their fate might depend the fate of this world.
Yes, but it will be their world, not ours, very soon.
That caught Elrond off guard. What do you mean?
Can you not feel it? Galadriel asked, surprised. Few enough of us stayed, and some of those who did are leaving now, having lived in a peaceful Middle-Earth for a time. We stay because we made it possible for Sauron to have the ring, and so he is partly our responsibility – together with the heirs of Isildur. Once Sauron is gone, however, our work here will be finished and our time here over.
But...you cannot go back.
No. All the others can, though.
I have told you this before, but I will not leave you here.
Elrond, beloved, I will leave this world as well sooner or later. If I survive this age, I will fade from grief in time, however long it takes. I would not have you wait here with me for that to happen. You have a wife, and children.
She felt his anger at the powerlessness, and nodded. I know. I hate it too.
But she had her duties, and so after a moment of shared regret for both the present and the past, she bid her goodbye to Elrond, with greetings sent to Celebrían and Arwen, and went to alert Amroth.
She found him sitting with Elladan and Elrohir, who had stopped by returning from one of their many journeys around Middle-Earth, discussing the nature of trees around one particular clearing. "Your father has just contacted me," she told them. "Arnor truly broke apart."
The twins exchanged a worried, frustrated look.
"It's unlikely to affect us much, isn't it?" Amroth pointed out.
"You? Yes. Us, on the other hand..." Elrohir replied.
"Not even you," Amroth insisted. "I can partly understand why your father would be upset that his great nephews – many times over – can't agree who'll be king, but surely there's going to be little practical effect?"
"Not at the moment," Galadriel agreed, "but once darkness rises again...three kingdoms are harder to defend than one."
"But...they will be allies, won't they?" Elladan asked, disquieted.
Galadriel smiled a little sadly. "Do you remember your first age history, beloved?"
Elladan seemed unsure what she was referring to, but Elrohir asked: "Do you mean Gondolin?"
"Chiefly, yes. Officially, they weren't only allies, but subjects to the High King as well, and yet they only came to our help once."
Elladan frowned. "Glorfindel should be here," he said, "I'm sure he'd defend the honour of his homeland."
"I'm not so certain. He wasn't your teacher of lore, I expect-"
"No, Father and Erestor taught us that."
"As I thought. So you may not know his opinion on this, especially as I'm aware history isn't exactly your preferred topic and so you were unlikely to simply come across it in conversation, but...He was loyal to Turgon, but he disagreed with the king's decisions very often."
"I'm surprised he didn't stay in Aman then," Elladan muttered. "Shouldn't he have been glad to be rid of his duty?"
"Perhaps he wouldn't have returned to serve Turgon – even though I'm not quite certain of that, his devotion to duty is great. Still, I do believe that had Turgon been still alive and chose to stay, a highly unlikely scenario, it'd have been Lord Ecthelion who stayed with him, not Lord Glorfindel. But your captain was very loyal to Idril, and it was her grandson he came to serve in Middle-Earth."
"It was difficult not to be loyal to Idril," Amroth pointed out unexpectedly.
Galadriel looked at him, surprised. "I didn't think you remembered her much," she said.
"No – I was almost a child still, and in a great deal of pain. But I do remember that she was always very kind."
"Contrary to me, you mean?" Galadriel asked with a smile.
Amroth shook his head. "I was in no state to judge your behaviour. My father hated you at that time, and I simply accepted that."
"Why did Amroth's father hate you?" Elrohir asked, surprised. Apparently, Elrond had not seen it fit to tell them quite everything in his rendering of history. She was more surprised that Erestor had kept it quiet.
Amroth shifted uncomfortably, and Galadriel could see he did not wish to make it known. "Because he was in pain after losing his mother and wife on the same day. He hated many people then," he replied at length.
"That's not the whole reason, though, is it?" Elrohir asked, too observant.
"Why don't you want to tell us?" Elladan sounded a little offended.
"Perhaps some other time," Amroth said. "We should concentrate on the effects the break of Arnor will have on our realms."
Everyone present knew it for the distraction it was, but the twins let it pass for now.
"Even if it didn't have that much of a practical effect on us," Elrohir muttered, "it still touches us personally. It was our task to help them get along."
"What were you doing in Harad, then?" Amroth asked them archly.
Elrohir grimaced. "Not now," he said. "But a century or so ago, before Father judged it was a waste of time and wasn't leading anywhere."
"Well, he was right," Elladan noted. "It was an exercise in futility."
"Perhaps we were just bad at it," Elrohir pointed out. He seemed to be hit much harder by this than his brother.
Galadriel tried to cheer him up for a time, but when it proved fruitless, she finally came across something she thought would get his mind off things. "There is someone in this realm now," she said, "whom you've wanted to meet for a time."
It did not take him long to catch on. "The half-elven are here?" He asked, immediately forgetting his dismay.
"They are," Galadriel confirmed.
Without another word, Elrohir rose and left the room, Elladan just behind him. Galadriel only gave one amused and apologetic look to Amroth before she followed them.
"I do not know if they will be at home at the moment," she pointed out. "You may have to wait a time to meet them."
"We can try at least," Elrohir said impatiently.
As it happened, though, luck was with them and Banja and Tugu were both present when Galadriel knocked on the door of Birik and Hana's house. In fact, it was Tugu who opened it.
"My lady," she said. "What can I do for you?"
"Not so much for me," Galadriel replied, "but Elrond's sons are here, and I promised them I would introduce you when you arrive in Lindórinand."
Tugu raised her eyebrows. "Well, I suppose I can't make you go back on your word then," she said, sounding a little sceptical, and stepped aside.
The moment she set her eyes on the twins, though, understanding dawned in her eyes. "We've heard about the half-elven lord who ruled in the north in Gondor," she remarked. "I didn't realize he was the Elrond you meant."
"There is but one," Galadriel replied with a smile. "Elladan, Elrohir, let me introduce you to Tugu, daughter of Birik and Hana. And Tugu, these are Elladan and Elrohir, sons of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, and Celebrían my daughter."
That made Tugu raise her eyebrows even higher as she made a perfunctory bow. "I had no idea you had half-elven grandchildren, my lady," she said. "In fact, before hearing the rumours in Gondor, I had no idea about any other half-elven in the world."
"Neither did we, until grandmother told us of you," Elrohir returned. "Or rather, there were our uncle's children, but that was millennia ago."
"You've never met them, then?"
"Not those who were still counted as half-elven," Elrohir explained. "We do know their descendants."
"You do?"
Elrohir smiled a little. "You've probably at least glimpsed them at some point, too, if you were in Gondor. Kings of both Gondor and Arnor," and now a shadow crossed his face, remembering that realm would exist no more, "are from that line."
That seemed to surprise Tugu a good deal. Just then, Banja entered the room, and Tugu turned to her without any preamble, saying: "Did you know the kings of Gondor have elven blood?"
"No, I didn't," Banja replied in a mildly chiding tone, "but I fear there are more things I don't know at this point."
So another introduction was arranged. "I'd have never known it to look at them," Tugu mused then, returning to the previous topic.
"It's four thousand years since Elros' birth," Galadriel explained. "It's a very long line."
"He must have been born not long before we were," Banja observed.
Elladan's eyes widened. "You're as old as our father?"
"If your father is four millennia old, then not quite, but just a few centuries younger. Why does that astonish you so?"
"I don't know, I just….somehow assumed you'd be closer to us in age."
"And how old are you?"
"Not even a millennium," Elrohir admitted sheepishly, and Tugu laughed, amused.
"Oh, sweet innocence of childhood," she said. Then she grew more serious. "I wonder," she said, "if there would be as little trace of the elven blood in our distant cousins as there is in Gondorin kings."
"You never saw the dscendants?" Galadriel asked curiously.
"Never," Tugu confirmed. "Two millennia or so ago, when we left Magrandoro, we passed through the lands around the inland sea and we looked for them. But there were no traces left, no memory of an elven ancestry in anyone from that settlement. They forgot, or they moved away."
"You had other half-elven cousins?" Elrohir asked curiously, and Galadriel left them to share their stories. There were other duties that called her, others whom she was obliged to let know about the fate of Arnor.
Talking to Feliel could wait, but the next group Galadriel went to make aware of the situation were the dwarves of Hadhodrond. It was the only place where she still allowed herself to travel relatively freely, being close enough that her absence from Lindórinand did not exceed a day, and even the mellyrn did not begin to wither quite so quickly.
The dwarves, much like Amroth, seemed chiefly untroubled by the revelation about Arnor – Galadriel, on the other hand, was slightly troubled by what she saw in the kingdom. "You have deepened the mining shafts again, have you not?" She asked King Fili.
"Yes, for there is a wealth of mithril in them," he replied, sharp from the start. He was not her greatest friend, and of the kings of Khazad-dûm she had known, she found him amongst the most unreasonable.
"And haven't you encountered..." she hesitated. "Old things dwell deep under the mountains, servants of the Enemy that ran away before the Maiar could capture them."
"What kind of servants?"
"I don't know. I don't know which ones ran and which ones were captured or killed – the Valar did not confide in me. I only know that some ran, and that they'd be most likely to be found under the mountains."
King Fili scoffed. "We won't stop mining for such an uncertain rumour; and we haven't encountered anything peculiar yet, at any rate."
Galadriel gave the king's ring a worried glance.
"Save your judgement," he said, now with more open hostility. "Do you think I don't know you carry a ring on your finger yourself?"
"That ring, however, isn't one of those Gorthaur has touched." She saw the anger in the king's eyes and shook her head. "I'm not attempting to ask you to give it up, but I'd beg you to remember that it's been corrupted, and be careful. Your judgement regarding how far you should go might well be clouded by it."
"You, begging? That'd be a first."
"Would you have been happier if I'd ordered you?" She asked him archly, tired of his hard-headedness.
"It'd have been more in character, to be sure, and I might have finally had the reason to ban you from entrance into this kingdom."
"Is my presence so very offensive to your royal majesty?"
"The presence itself wouldn't be, perhaps, if you didn't try to tell us what to do every time you come."
"Then you can rejoice that the ring on my finger prevents me from doing that too often," she retorted. "In fact, even now I should be heading back. But, king, I try to give counsel when I'm here. That is what I do, to every elf or Man or dwarf I know. Don't see it as an offense to you, for I don't treat you very differently from my own king."
"But you should," he spat. "I'm not your younger kin, I'm the ruler of the oldest realm in Middle-Earth."
"So you are. But even the oldest realms can end one day, sad as it is, and I wouldn't wish for it to be because of a ring my own people made, under Gorthaur's guidance."
"I know how to keep my own kingdom safe. Now go, before I make good on that promise of a ban."
Galadriel left, hurrying back to Lindórinand to return her protection to it, but her mind was not calm and she only prayed that in spite of the king's sharp words, her warning was heard.