AN: I see that the last chapter started with me wishing you all pesach sameach, so...g'mar chatimah tovah.
I'm so sorry for staying away so long. I had...a very bad summer. But things seem to be a bit better now at least, so hopefully this won't be a one-off thing I and will post again with some regularity.
A quick recap for those of you who don't remember where we ended: third age, everyone is mostly happy still though Arnor already fell apart. Last chapter, the Istari came from the West, and they don't remember anything from their pasts. Galadriel recognized Olórin.
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Chapter 79: Return
Year 1066 of the Third Age, Lórinand
Something was wrong with Greenwood, and Galadriel had occasion to curse its stubborn rulers once more.
Thranduil sent no messenger warning them of the descending darkness, let alone a plea for help. Galadriel noticed it as a slight irritation beyond the eastern borders of her protection, and when she prodded more in that direction, she did not like what she saw at all.
She consulted Amroth and they dispatched messengers to Thranduil, but they received no sensible reply, and so they resorted to sending their own scouts to Greenwood.
The news they brought back were alarming.
Apparently, there was real darkness raising in the south of the forest, something more than merely a nest of orcs. The forest around was changing into a dark and unfriendly place. "There is nothing of green in there, my lady," the scouts told her. "It is, instead, full of mirk."
This was disconcerting, and merited immediate contact with Elrond.
We do not know what it is, she told him, and we need to find out.
Do you have anyone well equipped for such a mission you could send? He asked.
Regretfully, she shook her head. There were many highly skilled craftsmen and loremasters and warriors among the Noldor who lived in Lindórinand, but no especially trained rangers and scouts. Amroth's Sindar fared little better, and while the Silvan had many good scouts among them, they lacked the knowledge of lore to be able to identify whatever it would be they would encounter.
He sighed. Unfortunately, he said, I do have two who are just perfect for the job.
Why unfortunately?
Because I am speaking of Elladan and Elrohir.
Galadriel froze. You do not have to send them, she said. If my suspicions are confirmed, we might have to take council with Olórin anyway-
Your suspicions?
I fear this has something to do with Sauron, and that is Olórin's task after all. I could try and ask him to come directly, and perhaps he would help.
Yes, Elrond agreed, perhaps. But we do not even know where he is at the moment, do we? The twins are in Rivendell, and could be with you in a fortnight or only a little more. And they truly are the best for this.
Galadriel still hesitated. It was true that calling on Olórin was not a natural instinct. Since his first stay in Lindórinand, he had been there twice, but he always appeared unexpected and left when it suited him. He was and was not her friend at the same time, and she was not sure how to act around him. She would, indeed, prefer a different solution, but not one that sent her grandsons into danger.
They are a thousand years old, Elrond reminded her.
That is not my main concern, she admitted. I have watched too many of you grow not to be used to the knowledge that at some point, I have to stop protecting you so desperately. But...I worry about you, and Celebrían, should something happen. I would not wish to have any part in that.
Elrond sighed. On my head be it, then.
The company from Rivendell arrived in three weeks, and actually contained Celebrían, Arwen and Lord Laurefindil in addition to the twins.
"This is an unexpected surprise," Galadriel said with a welcoming smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"It has been a long time since I saw you, grandmother," Arwen replied primly, and then added with a smile: "And there is a number of questions about the East that occurred to me and that I felt I needed to ask Birik and Hana about…"
Galadriel laughed. "Far be it from me to ever expect that you would come only for me," she said. "Go and torture them with your questions, then. I have duties to your brothers to dispatch."
Celebrían, it turned out, came with a rather particular purpose as well. "I want to try and capture what my sons will speak of," she said. "I would prefer to see what happens in Greenwood for myself, but Elrond convinced me it was not safe. However, I want to get my sons' memories when they will still be fresh, at least."
Galadriel was surprised by this. "Exploration on the larger scale never attracted you," she said. "Why the sudden desire?"
"There is just something about the idea of a corruption of a beautiful forest that will not leave me alone," Celebrían said. "I need to capture it, to get it out of my head."
That response did not particularly calm Galadriel.
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Elladan and Elrohir returned with news as grave as, but not much more specific than, those of Amroth's scouts. They have been unable to identify the source of the darkness. Unwilling, Galadriel conceded she had to turn to Olórin.
My friend, she called, searching our Narya with her mind, I fear your task is beginning.
What tidings have reached you?
There is evil in the south of Greenwood, centered, it appears, in Amon Lanc, the old capital. Our scouts are able to tell us there is real darkness there, but it is beyond them to recognize it. Elrond could send Lord Laurefindil to investigate, but…
I agree, yes, it would be better if it was me – and with no mention of it being your idea, should Thranduil catch me there and ask. He did not intercept your scouts?
He hardly sends any patrols to that part of the forest, she explained, and they were very unobtrusive. You are likely to be less so, if you truly intend to find out what it is.
I will do my best.
Then Galadriel waited for news for weeks, and when they came, it was with Olórin in person. "You were right," he said, "Thranduil did notice me, and was very displeased. He threatened to raise an army against anyone who would attempt to use force in his forest, and when I wanted a promise he would do something about the evil in Amon Lanc himself, he replied that I had no right to demand such a thing from him, for he is the king."
"I could have predicted that answer, even without my mirror. What of your discovery?"
"There is, indeed, great evil there. Evil that...might match me in strength, in time." Galadriel was alarmed by that, and sensing this, he added: "Do not forget that I am not as strong as when you knew Olórin in Aman. I do not believe it could overpower him then, but me, here and now..."
"So you do not believe it is Sauron?"
"Do you?"
"I do not know, I have not been there!"
"Look into my mind and try to draw your conclusions. I do not remember him, though I assume I must have known him as Olórin, so it is not easy for me to make certain."
Another reason why this idea of memory loss was painfully stupid, Galadriel thought, irritated, as she examined her friend's memories. "If it is him, he must be greatly weakened," she said at last, "but then, he would be, without the ring and after that defeat. It could be one of the Ringwraiths as well. Will you examine my memories of Sauron? Perhaps that will help with our attempt at identification."
He did so, but shook his head. "He is simply too weak," he said. "I am unable to tell. If we wish to be sure, we have to wait for him to grow stronger."
She frowned. "That sounds like a very strange plan. Without wanting to discount your wisdom in the slightest, my friend, would not destroying him while he is weak perhaps be better, whether it is Sauron, a Ringwraith or something wholly different?"
He chuckled. "But what would you do with Thranduil? I do not doubt you could destroy it as it is now, but is it really worth starting a war with him?"
Galadriel groaned. "There must be some way to change his mind," she insisted.
"You would know that better than me."
"I suppose I would." She paused. "Amroth is our only hope. If he cannot convince him, then none of the other rulers possibly could. This should not be so hard. Thranduil's realm would be the first to face the danger!" She slowly exhaled. "Had I known so much evil would come from the feud between me and Oropher, I would have tried much harder to heal it..."
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Amroth, however, was not successful. "My cousin has quite lost my mind," he seethed after he returned from his personal visit to Greenwood. "I was even willing to promise him that only the Sindar and Silvan would enter his forest, even though I'm well aware many'd die that way, while you and your friends could probably take the evil out without breaking out a sweat, but he said that I was a slave to murderers and kinslayers now, and that he wouldn't trust me."
"In this particular case, it might be a good thing – you are right that many would have died, but additionally, I don't believe most of the fighters you offered would've been able to do anything about the evil at all, with the exception of those who remember Queen Melian or who saw the host of the Valar in the War of Wrath. Swords and bows are no help against the kind of shadow Mithrandir described." Galadriel despised the name elves had given Olórin – there was nothing grey about her friend of old – but he accepted it, and so she had no choice but to go along with his wishes.
"Well, I had to try everything to convince him," Amroth replied quite reasonably. Then he shook his head. "Valar, how I hate being king."
"Have you gone to see Nimrodel yet after your return?" Galadriel asked him, well aware what was the chief source of his frustration.
"No, I rushed to speak with you directly – yet another reason why I hate it so much. But I have reservations about going to her, in any case. What will she think when she sees in my mind that there is evil again, and that one of the Sindar is refusing to undo what she undoubtedly sees as our mistake?"
"You can calm her by explaining it was ours."
"There is little difference from her point of view between the Sindar and the Noldor, I found."
Galadriel laughed. "What a refreshing point of view," she said.
"It is, rather, is it not? I have to say that her different point of view if very useful, if nothing else. It puts the problems I face in a new perspective."
"Perhaps I was wrong, and she would have been a good queen." Or not an entirely disastrous one, at least. Galadriel was beginning to think that even having a Queen not well suited to the role would be preferable to having so much of Amroth's mind troubled by his inability to be with his love.
Amroth shrugged. "It matters little, as she refuses the role."
"There was no change in her approach in the course of the centuries?"
"No. She detests the whole idea of kingdoms – a point of view I can agree with, I have to say, especially since I became king."
Galadriel sighed. "I know I said I would not advise you in this, and I still refuse to, but if you truly detest it so much, I think it wise to remind you that you do still have the choice of resigning the crown. I trust you know me well enough by now to know I am not saying it to further my own ends. I simply do not wish you to be desperately unhappy. I hoped, I confess, that you would get used to your role in time, but..."
Amroth shook his head. "Kingship will never be for me, I fear. I was almost decided to leave, truth be told, before this evil appeared. Now…," he paused. "How could I leave my people when the hour of darkness approaches again? And she will need my protection as well, and I can offer more in this respect as king than as simply her husband."
"Should you not allow her to have a say in this choice?" Galadriel asked archly.
"That is pointless. She does not understand the responsibility of a king, so from her point of view, it is all straightforward enough."
"At least as regards her own protection, you should respect that," the Nolde reminded him.
"How can I? I love her."
Galadriel raised her eyebrows. "I should imagine that was the reason. Should not respect go hand in hand with love? If she decided the possible loss of your protection as king would be worth having you as a husband, that is her choice."
Amroth turned away, shaking his head. "You do not understand. You never had to face such a choice."
"Oh? You believe I never faced the temptation to restrict one of those I loved, to preserve them from danger? Artanáro, when he was young? Elrond and Elros?"
"It's not the same. You never faced this choice with Celeborn. And you are a nis, so it'd have been different still."
"How so?"
He only shook his head. "You have never met Nimrodel, have you?" He asked her.
"No. You told me I should not bother."
"And I did right. You would hate each other."
Galadriel raised one eyebrow. "I like to believe I hate no one, except for the Enemy ans Sauron."
"Not even Thranduil?" He asked with some amusement, some real curiosity.
"No," Galadriel said honestly. "Thranduil I pity, and worry over, and am angry with. Never hate – that comes from his side."
"That it does. Sometimes I'm almost surprised he hasn't attacked us yet – to his mind, you've truly became the epitome of all evil. Sometimes I think he hates you more than he does Sauron."
"It would appear so, given that he is content to let the evil grow, rather than ask me for help."
"Perhaps if you had offered it…?"
Galadriel had to laugh at this. "Do you truly believe that?" She asked.
"No," he had to admit.
"Mithrandir offered," she continued, "and was very decidedly refused, and Thranduil has no reason for a grudge against him."
"Perhaps he discovered he is your friend?"
"I don't wish to underestimate Thranduil, but reading Mithrandir's mind against his will would be very difficult to do, even if he did not guard it by Unwill." Especially given that he wore the Narya, she added for herself. Amroth knew she had one of the rings, of course, but he was not aware of the location of the other two – though she supposed he could make a very good guess as to Vilya.
"Yes, it would," Amroth agreed. "I've tried."
Galadriel laughed. "How did that go?" She asked.
"Most embarrassingly," he replied. "For me, of course."
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"You made a very good choice," Galadriel said when next she spoke to Hana and Birik, "in leaving south Greenwood. It seems there's evil breeding there."
The couple exchanged a look.
"You knew of this?" Galadriel asked shrewdly.
"We've read the signs," Birik replied after a moment's hesitation.
"The signs?"
"I don't know if you sometimes have...premonitions, vague feelings about the future," he said. "I know not everyone does, but I do. I never knew what to make of them, but..."
"My people have a traditional way of predicting the future," Hana continued for him. "It never seemed to work too well to me, but when I saw Birik's trouble, I taught him the practice, hoping it'd perhaps be of use."
"And it was," he confirmed. "With that, I can at least...well, not know what's going to happen, but at least know whether it's good or bad, and sometime I have an inkling to what my reaction should be. This time, I knew we had to leave south Greenwood."
"So that's why you came here."
"Yes, though we didn't lie – we also don't like cold, and mountains."
"This is most interesting to me," Galadriel said, putting the fact that they had not been entirely honest with her aside for the moment. "I do indeed have premonitions, as you've said, though mine are much more concrete that yours, or used to be at least. But I've never known anyone to have them without any blood of the West in them, or blood of Queen Melian at least. Who are you, Birik?"
He shrugged. "No one important. But perhaps it matters that two of my grandparents were among those who awoke at Cuiviénen?"
"Truly? So were two of mine!"
"Indeed? What were their names? Perhaps I know them from stories."
"Finwë and Olwë."
His eyes widened. "You're the granddaughter of Lost King Finwë himself? I had no idea..."
"Lost King Finwë?" She asked with interest.
"That's how he's known in out stories. One of the lost brothers, Ingwë, Finwë and Elwë."
Galadriel smiled at that. "They aren't brothers."
"I realize that now. Somehow, the knowledge that the elves who departed on the Grey Journey were of three different clans, not one, was lost in our memory."
"Given how much we forgot about you, I'm not surprised." She paused. "But why did you think of it now? What does it have to do with seeing glimpses of the future?"
"Well, my grandparents saw Oromë in person," he replied. "Surely that'd be the Light of the West I have sometimes heard mentioned in this realm? So maybe that's why I have this power."
"Perhaps," she agreed. "I never realized just what exactly it meant that your ancestors, as well as ours, were there when the elves were invited to come West. But then, all elves would have the light of the West somewhere in them, since all must have some ancestors who saw Lord Oromë..."
"It would be less marked, though, wouldn't it, through generations?"
"I'm not sure. Certainly the difference in strength between Noldor and Sindar remains even in those cases where the Noldor are the twentieth generation to be on this shore."
"Truly? That is surprising to me. In that case, I don't know what can be behind my powers. I've had them as long as I remember. They were one of the things that let me find Hana."
"I thought it was your friend?"
"Yes, but...I wouldn't have gone with him, had my premonition not strongly urged me to."
Galadriel considered this, thinking about who could have answers to this intriguing problem. "Are your grandparents still alive?" She asked at length.
"I assume so." At her surprised look, Birik added: "I haven't been back among my people since I left to be with Hana, so I don't know."
"That isn't entirely true," Hana murmured, and his face darkened.
At Galadriel's questioning look, Hana explained: "After we left Magrandoro, we thought we'd try our luck back among the Nore."
"I thought," Birik said bitterly. "I hoped."
"We both did, naively perhaps."
"My people are very happy, the happiest I've ever known," Birik said. "The price they pay for it is that they cast out anyone who breeds ill-will and discontent...and never accept any strangers. The conditions stayed the same as when I first left. I'd be welcome back...if I left Hana behind."
"But surely you could have at least spoken to your parents and grandparents?" Galadriel tried.
Birik shook his head. "By marrying Hana, I rejected the values of Nore in their mind. They had nothing more to say to me."
At Galadriel's shocked look, Hana explained: "I believe they'd have spoken to him if it was just up to them – his father, at least, and his parents – but you have to understand that Nore communities are very small. Nothing much happens there that all the others wouldn't know immediately, and they'd all feel the disapproval of others if they spoke to him."
"It reminds me a little of the Vanyar," Galadriel said slowly. "They, too, lived much together. But there was never such hostility to the outsiders...perhaps a little distrust, yes – but then they had some bad experience with marriages of their folk to other clans," she added, thinking of Finwë and grandmother Indis.
"The Vanyar is the clan who went to the West in its entirety, is it not?" Birik asked.
"Yes."
"Well, then, if it truly is a promised land, then perhaps they have nothing to be hostile about."
That was true enough, Galadriel supposed – even the turbulence of the later times had avoided them, by and large.
"I know it sounds terrible told from this side," Birik added, "and I admit I do resent it, a little, but it's also true what I say. They achieve a degree of bliss by this they wouldn't have achieved otherwise."
"Can it truly be called bliss when you aren't allowed to speak to your own child?"
"Perhaps it isn't so blissful for my parents anymore, no – but me and my friend were the only cases, in the millennium I lived there, who married outsiders. There were stories of one or two others before I was born – how it brought them ruin – but of course, I didn't listen." He smiled at Hana.
"This is how we came to Greenwood," she explained. "When we were turned away from Nore once again, we were unwilling to return East, and so turned West instead."
"It is, perhaps, the happiest we've ever been," Birik added. "I regret deeply that darkness is growing there now."
"We'll be happy here as well," Hana told him with a smile. "We'll be even happier. We are happy already, and there are marks of it being even better in Tugu."
Galadriel was at sea again, and Hana explained: "She's fallen in love."
The Nolde smiled: "That's a good thing indeed. I'm happy for your daughter."
"It's fitting, too," Birik remarked. "It was her insistence that drove us out of Magrandoro, and so, ultimately, here."
"Her insistence?"
"We lived in that realm for over two thousand years," Hana took the word, "but we were never fully accepted as one of them. They did not turn us away like Nore, no, but even after a millennium, we were still treated like strangers, and felt like strangers."
"We waited long to have children," Birik added, "for we thought to wait until we were at home in the realm. It was only after we realized we likely never would be that we decided to have them anyway."
"And they were treated like strangers too, in spite of being born in Magrandoro. It was Tugu who, after a few centuries of this, convinced us that we all of us deserved more. And she was right. We were more accepted after a century in Greenwood than we ever were in Magrandoro."
"Not that it didn't have its downsides," Hana said. "Greenwood is a much poorer realm. But that feeling of being always looked on as not belonging...in time, you find that no amount of comfort really makes up for it."
Galadriel thought of her life in Doriath, those millennia ago. She, at least, had had the comfort of being able to go see her kin ever year. She could not imagine undergoing that without pause, and if Celeborn had been even more of a stranger than she was. Birik and Hana, she thought, were stronger than any Noldorin warrior she had ever known.