In Cavern's Shade

by Castile181

During the first age, when Beleriand itself stands on the brink of destruction and Doriath falls from the height of glory to begin its long decline, Celeborn, a Sindarin prince as quick to wisdom as he is to anger, meets Artanis, a Noldorin princess plagued by a dark secret, and they soon find themselves plunged into a world of intrigue, lies, and mystery as ties grow turbulent.

25. Chapter 25: Atonement

Atonement

Doriath: 25th Chapter

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"It is to be broken. It is to be
torn open. It is not to be
reached and come to rest in
ever. I turn against you,
I break from you, I turn to you.
We hurt, and are hurt,
and have each other for healing.
It is healing. It is never whole."

― Wendell Berry, The Collected Poems, 1957-1982

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Author's note: The next chapter will be the last of part 2! I promise that all of your hopes and dreams will come true before part 3 starts. Footnote at the bottom regarding some important canon Tolkien stuff that comes up in this chapter.

This chapter is near and dear to my heart because it deals with strip mining, also known as mountaintop removal, which has completely devastated and destroyed the community in which I was raised. Wendell Berry, who is quoted above, writes extensively about this, which is why he is one of my favorite authors. When I was formulating how I wanted to write the Sindarin culture for this story I knew that I really wanted to emphasize the theme of stewardship of nature and how important Middle Earth is to the Sindar, the Green Elves, and the Avari. I really hope I have achieved that in some way and I hope that maybe that can make people more aware of how they treat the environment.

Leeza: Thanks! I hope you will enjoy this one too! I'm really glad that Nellas came off well.

Luna: Thank you! You will see in this chapter what has happened! I am really interested to know if it is what you thought would happen. I was so surprised and excited that you guessed part of the plot.

Thanks for reading everybody! Thank you for the wonderful reviews. I really appreciate the time that it takes you to write them and they help so much in keeping me focused and motivated to write. Also, they are really valuable to me in that they help me make sure I am keeping everything going in the right direction and not making horrible mistakes! So thank you and if you have time, please review!

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"Strike this," Galadriel said, pointing, and Celeborn grit his teeth. He was frustrated and, as ever when he was frustrated, that made him ornery as an old bull. The candles were burning low now, the wax dripping onto the table, the flames nearly extinguished as they burned down into the candleholders themselves. They had been pouring over the treaty all evening, ensuring that it was ready, that it was refined, honed to perfection. But daylight would come upon them soon and, with it, the negotiations would begin. Their personal struggle, however, was exacerbating what was already a tense and frustrating situation. Oropher had given up completely, having bickered enough with the two of them, and lay fast asleep, sprawled across a settee, snoring like a dwarf.

"There is no reason to strike that phrase," he said. "I am the high prince of Beleriand. Historically, Doriath and the princes of the Sindar have…"

"They don't care, historically, what you have controlled and what you have not," Galadriel replied. "In their eyes you are the prince of that which you reign and you do not rule all of Beleriand, not anymore. The Northern lands are beyond your control. Claiming sovereignty over the lands in which the sons of Feanor rule would be a grave affront. They know that Thingol gifted them these lands and they are grateful for it but to directly state it would be to rub it in their faces, and that is something they will not appreciate."

His eyes were hard as he pondered the idea. She could see that he didn't like it at all but she had to admit he deserved some credit for at least considering the issue. She hated arguing like this, especially considering the circumstances between them, but these negotiations were already proving to be extraordinarily stressful and, besides, there was clearly something else bothering Celeborn, something she could not quite ferret out of him.

"Am I to surrender all of Sindarin tradition, Galadriel?" He asked, his words tight with agitation, tapping the end of his pen on the table, the ink spraying out in a fine black mist that coated his knuckles.

"Don't be a fool," the words were out before she could cut them off and she closed her eyes, sighing, angry at herself for having said that. She spread her hands across the draft of the treaty that lay before them. "What I mean is that…that isn't what I mean at all," she said. "We must pick our battles, Celeborn, and you know that. I needn't tell you that it is more important that we expend our energy on getting them to reform their policies than on calling you by the proper title." She was right and he had the sense not to argue with her on the point any longer.

"Would it be suitable for me to write 'High Prince of Doriath and the Falas' instead?" He asked, more than a hint of aggravation in his voice.

"Men," Galadriel sighed. "I am beginning to wonder if you are measuring the length of your titles or the length of your…"

"It isn't about that," Celeborn cut her off. "I'd beg you to recall that I do, actually, care a great deal about my kingdom."

"Celeborn, I'm sorry," Galadriel whispered reaching out to touch his hand in a consoling manner. She knew she had been wrong to say what she had, knew it wasn't productive or fair. The stress of all of this was getting to her. "I believe that would be acceptable." He penned it in. They bent over the document once more.

"This is no good," she said, pointing to the amount specified for reparations.

"What do you mean it is no good?" Celeborn asked her, clearly cross. "This is the amount that the council decided upon that we are expected to procure," he pointed to the figures. "I have some leeway regarding the other issues at hand but I have not the authority to lessen these figures and neither do you."

"Are you going to continue to be difficult?" She asked. "Because if you are then we might as well turn right around and go back to Menegroth." Celeborn grunted, which she took to mean that he would be more cooperative.

"You could explain yourself better," he retorted. "'This is no good,' how am I supposed to interpret that?"

"I understand," she said, trying to be more patient, less judgmental, "that such a direct strategy might work well with the Sindar and with the green elves, but you cannot negotiate with the Noldor in such a fashion. I observed a great deal at my father's side, and at Finrod's as well. What I am saying is that we must ask for double these figures, so double the amount of reparations. They will argue you down. If you start at the original number we may only end up with half that but if we start at double we have a reasonable chance of getting what we are hoping for."

"That seems a very silly way of conducting business," Celeborn grumbled, but he scratched out the figures and wrote the new ones in. "The world would be a whole lot simpler if people could only learn to ask for things in a plain and easy to understand manner."

"I quite agree," she said, taking mental note of the irony, "but, unfortunately, that is not the way things are, Celeborn," she sighed, "difficult work lies ahead of us in the morning and we must be suitably prepared. I will not spend all of my goodwill arguing with you. What you should be focused on instead is how you are going to approach Maedhros and Maglor." Celeborn's eyes flashed with anger.

"I am focused," he said and they sat in seething silence for a moment.

"This word is misspelled," she said, stabbing her finger at the parchment, more to break the silence than anything but it didn't really matter. They were not, after all, checking the document for spelling, but she almost wanted to annoy him.

"No it isn't," Celeborn grumbled. "That's the right way. You've just been spelling it wrong for 300 years."

"Oh," she was surprised, felt a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "Why did you say nothing to me of it?" She hissed.

"At the time I found it rather endearing," he retorted. "Now I find it rather annoying."

"Funny!" She said, "I was just thinking the same thing about you." Celeborn tossed the pen down. He was furious with himself for still being so reluctant to explain things when he knew he should, when even Nellas had admonished him for it. But he almost feared that if he opened his mouth then he would not find the strength to tell the truth, or at least not all of it.

"Look," he said, "stop acting like an elfling Galadriel. This treaty has nothing to do with whatever may have passed between us. It is about the good of Doriath and the good of your people too. Can we simply agree upon that?" Galadriel nodded, grudgingly. "Good," Celeborn said. "I know you are angry with me. I know that we are both sick, and tired, and exhausted with going over this treaty time and time again. I know that you do not particularly enjoy being around me since we argued but we have to do this. We have to set our differences aside tonight, and tomorrow, if we are to succeed. Do you think you can still work with me?"

Galadriel nodded grudgingly, she knew they could not go into that room to treat with her cousins acting as they were now. She knew she had to put her frustration with him away for one evening, for the sake of everyone else. "Yes," she said, "I can. And I apologize."

Celeborn nodded, "thank you. I apologize as well." He sounded exasperated. "Are there any other corrections that you would suggest?"

"I believe it should stand as it is," she said tersely and they both stared at it then.

"I hope this works," Celeborn said with a sigh, wearily laying his head down on the table.

"Me too," Galadriel replied, laying her head as well as she sighed. They looked at each other for a moment, both sighing and shaking their heads and, after that, they did not remember. They awoke in the early morning with bleary eyes to find that Oropher was pelting them with paper balls.

"Classless peasants," Oropher said with a grin and a laugh, "falling asleep at the table like a couple of drunks." They had certainly woken up then, starting with shock as they realized that they had indeed fallen asleep at the table and Galadriel reached out to peel a paper away from where it was stuck to Celeborn's face. It left some ink behind on his cheek and she laughed softly as he grinned, groaned, and rubbed his face. "You ought to get ready," Oropher said, "the negotiations will be beginning shortly." And, in a flurry of panic they somehow managed to make themselves presentable.

The morning was a tense affair and Galadriel barely heard the heralds announcing them as they were ushered into the negotiation chamber, so preoccupied were her thoughts, for she was beginning to doubt that Celeborn was up to this task, that she was up to it. Maedhros and Celeborn were rather a lot alike in truth, both fiercely pragmatic, both quick to anger, and Galadriel worried that Celeborn might take offense at what Maedhros would say and lose his temper, dooming this treaty. And as for herself, she wondered if she had the power to keep her own pride in check if Celeborn chose to make a decision that she did not hold with.

The council chamber was a long room and quite elegantly done in white marble veined with gray. Rich carpets decorated the floor and the majority of the room was occupied by a long table that was flanked on both sides with chairs. Though it was a beautiful room, it was a rather sparsely ornamented one and thus it spoke to Maedhros's temperament, a man who, though he appreciated the fineness of a few choice things, was first and foremost a practical man.

She looked to where he stood now beside his brother, his deep auburn hair tumbling to his shoulders in rich waves. He had been teased for those curls as a child but when he had grown to be handsome the teasing had stopped. His brow was bound with a golden circlet and he inclined his head politely to the Sindarin party before he and Maglor both sank into respectful bows. The Sindar did the same before they were all seated at the table.

Maedhros and Maglor were still perfectly polite throughout the opening pleasantries yet today they had a very business-like air about them that they had not in the past few days. And, when at last the initial matters had been discussed, and the situation of both Sindar and Noldor clearly laid out, Maedhros spoke. While she was glad that Celeborn had allowed Maedhros to lead the discussion as she had suggested, the words of her cousin startled her.

"I find it rather intrigues me that a Prince of Doriath would seek to lay claim to funds from mines in a land over which he does not rule." Galadriel could feel her heart flopping like a fish in her chest, for she had thought that it would offend Maedhros for Celeborn to lay claim over these lands and now her cousin was arguing that as Celeborn had not laid claim to them, he had no right to expect the reparations. She swallowed and glanced left to look at Celeborn but he showed no sign of being disturbed by her cousin's words. He is so like Thingol, she thought and what worries she had had quickly fled from her heart, for she could see now that, though his temper was quick, Celeborn clearly had his uncle's diplomatic acumen and could, when he so wished, maintain calm under pressure.

"Rule them? No, I do not," Celeborn said, genially, "for they were kindly given over to your rule by my King, without even the requirement of your pledge of fealty. Thus, it is not because I believe that these lands are not part of my kingdom that I do not claim them, but because if I were to claim them, that would necessitate your fealty and Doriath does not wish to usurp your authority." Silence followed his words, silence in which Maedhros seemed to realize, or else he had been given cause to recall, that he had overstepped, that Thingol had already been more generous to him than he deserved, and that Celeborn was a more formidable opponent than he had supposed.

"We have, however," Celeborn continued smoothly, "not been as satisfied as we had hoped with the management of these lands we have given over to you and in recent years much harm has come to our people as a result of this management. Indeed, the effects of clear cutting the forest have been devastating for our people and Doriath has borne the brunt of the financial burden of the reconstruction of our towns and villages in this region. It is to that end that Thingol has requested the specified sum in reparations which, I believe, is not an unreasonable request given what our people have endured."

"That may be true," Maedhros said, "and I will very readily grant that some form of compensations should be made, for it was never my intent to drive your people from their homes, nor to maim them, nor to take from them their means of livelihood. But, we also did suffer from attacks carried out by your people and, no matter how much I may think their anger justified, I cannot hold that such attacks were justified. As you well know, much of our equipment was damaged by these retaliations and much of our livestock was set loose into the wild." Galadriel found herself glad that Celeborn had spoken so plainly for Maedhros seemed to respect that. Perhaps she ought to have given her cousin more credit. Perhaps his interactions with the Sindar of this region had changed him.

"Thingol does very much regret that things came to such a point," Celeborn said. "And he does very much concede that the retaliation of our people is regrettable. Nevertheless, it seems to him very unfair that Doriath must pay for that which we did not destroy."

"Well do I understand his point of view," said Maglor then, his voice calm and musical, "for we also think it unfair that we must pay for that which the Sindar destroyed which was ours."

"And it is very reasonable for you to do so," Celeborn said. "Let us then consider that the amount of reparations to be made will be this amount we have requested less the cost of what ills have been done you by my people."

"Yet still I must say I think the amount is too high," Maedhros replied and Maglor nodded in affirmation. "I think that a cut of 50 percent minus the cost we have endured should be adequate." Galadriel sat with baited breath, hoping that Celeborn would not accept such an offer, that he would remember what she had said about haggling with the Noldor. She wanted to leap into the conversation so badly but she knew that Maedhros would not appreciate such forwardness from a woman in the midst of negotiations and so she reached beneath the table to squeeze Celeborn's knee, hoping that he would be able to interpret her meaning.

"I hope you will not think me terribly rude if I were to say that I believe that not quite fair, considering that the financial burden that has fallen on the Sindar in relation to this matter has been far greater than that which has fallen on the Noldor," Celeborn said. Galadriel nearly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Shall we compare numbers?" Maedhros asked. "It might allow us to reach a fairer settlement."

"Indeed," Celeborn said, "I believe that would be most wise." And then the other counselors drew forth the ledgers and the comparison was made.

Having seen that the loss the Sindar had endured was indeed greater, Maedhros said, "perhaps it would be more suitable for me to offer 40 percent less our losses."

"Ten less the losses," Celeborn said.

"Thirty," Maedhros replied.

"Twenty then," Celeborn replied but Maedhros would not budge and they at last settled on a reduction of 30 percent minus the losses. It was a startlingly good deal, Galadriel noted, for even though the losses would be subtracted it was still 20 percent more than they had been hoping to get and she was very glad she had advised Celeborn to raise his bid as high as she had.

They moved on then, discussing several small matters and then, at last, they came to the most important matter of them all: reformation of the mining practices at Himring and the tax that Thingol meant to impose on the profits from the mine. It was, however, Maedhros, and not the Sindarin delegation that first broached the topic.

"We wish for assurance that the Sindar will not trouble our mining operations any longer," Maedhros said, moving on the next issue. "We have no cause to want war with your people but the constant attacks, retaliation, and sabotage nearly left us with no other choice. Our deepest desire is to have friendly relations with your kingdom. Indeed, Thingol has done us a great honor by sending his crown prince to negotiate with us for never before have we received a royal party from Doriath or any sort of diplomatic contact. Yet, we seek assurances that this sort of cooperation shall continue and that any attacks carried out by the Sindar will be put to a halt."

"That is our desire as well," Celeborn said. "For we wish from here on out to have only peaceable relations with your people yet this can only be achieved through reformation of the practices you have already put in place. For if the mines continue to be utilized in the way that they have been up until this point, then our people will continue to suffer the adverse affects and they will, in such a case, doubtlessly feel the need to defend their homes and their persons."

"Well of course," Maedhros said, but he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Then I hope that you will be understanding of the fact that Thingol has seen fit to ban the practice of strip mining in all of Beleriand and would hope that…"

"Ban a practice in lands that you yourself have admitted you have no jurisdiction over," Maedhros said, interrupting the Sindarin prince. There was a glint of anger in his eyes and his nostrils flared as he let out a deep breath, leaning back in his chair with a hand on his chin.

Celeborn bristled, for he had thought that the matter of jurisdiction had been settled. Galadriel knew her cousin well enough to know what that look in his eyes meant and she knew Celeborn well enough to know what that tension in his shoulders meant and so she was quick to place a hand on Celeborn's leg beneath the table, hoping that the affect of her touch would be enough to calm him. And, wondering if it might even be possible for him to see her visions again, as he had on the night the peace began, she concentrated on his favorite places, on the bubbling brooks that ran through the Forest of Region, on the tall beeches of the Forest of Neldoreth, on the thundering rapids of the Sirion, on the sweet perfume of the pink and white magnolias that blossomed outside of Menegroth's gates in late May and, miraculously, she saw the tension drain from him and it seemed as though his mind had cleared of anger and frustration.

"That is a very valid point, my Lord Maedhros," Celeborn said and at those words Maedhros also visibly calmed. "Allow me to present the matter to you in the following fashion," the Sindarin prince continued and the Noldorin one leaned forward, intrigued. "The strip mining practices that you are currently employing are not profitable for either of us or for you. The rocks, the timber, the runoff will eventually pollute this land and make it unsuitable for living, meaning you would eventually have to relocate your people."

"Although the initial cost may higher, the use of drift mining or even slope mining would be far more sustainable in the long term. Indeed, I believe your profit would be greater and the affect on the surrounding lands would be far less severe. What is more, this would help to stop the landslides and floods that have been devastating our Sindarin villages and there would no longer be any cause for discord between our peoples. I speak from experience on this matter, for our people have long had friendly dealings with the dwarves of Belegost, who employed these practices at Mount Dolmed and when they delved the caves of Menegroth." Celeborn said and Galadriel found herself very glad that he had pointed out the benefits of such a strategy to her cousin. Maedhros was a reasonable man and so she thought that this matter would present less of an issue than the matter of the reparations had.

But Maedhros made no reply and, instead, turned and spoke to Maglor in a hushed voice. They conversed for some time and then Maedhros turned back to them. They are just as frightened of war with Doriath as we are of war with them, Galadriel thought. They will not do anything foolish. They are eager to make peace.

"I am afraid this is impossible," Maedhros said.

"Of course," Celeborn said, "we only wish to reach an agreement that is suitable for everyone." Maedhros went silent and exchanged a glance with Maglor.

"I am afraid we cannot consider it," Maedhros said, turning back to the Sindarin delegation. His face was impassive and Galadriel could not discern her cousin's thoughts but she was extraordinarily confused at his outright refusal.

"But surely your mines must be profitable, else there would not have been such haste to clear the trees in such a fashion as was done," Celeborn said and Galadriel felt her heart leap with hope. He must see something, have discerned something that she had not, for unless she was greatly mistaken, he was trying to seek out some answer, something that had given him reason for suspicion.

"Well of course they are," Maedhros said, attempting, it seemed, to remain far calmer than he felt. It was a habit so familiar to Celeborn that he must certainly, Galadriel thought, recognize it in another. At least, she hoped he had.

"And, the adoption of the new mining practices we have suggested will only serve to make them more profitable," Celeborn replied. "I would think that prospect might interest you." He did catch it! He is on to something, Galadriel though.

"Of course," Maedhros said, tight-lipped, but he looked unusually uncomfortable. Celeborn must be striking near to some truth, some reason for Maedhros's protest, Galadriel thought. But, just as she pondered the idea that but one more push from Celeborn could break Maedhros's front, her cousin spoke, saying, "but we have been speaking all morning and, certainly, everyone must be quite tired. Perhaps a recess is in order." The Noldorin prince smiled. "Shall we adjourn for the time being to eat and rest?"

"We are not fatigued if you would like to continue," Galadriel began to say. She truly believed that they could get Maedhros to budge if they debated the topic just a little bit more and she feared that any interruption in the conversation might give Maedhros time to reconsider and undo what work they had done so far.

But Celeborn cut her off, jostling her leg with his under the table and saying, "Thank you, Maedhros. That is most thoughtful of you. I was beginning to feel a bit exhausted. Shall we continue in another two hours?"

"That is perfectly agreeable," Maedhros said with a nod and, exchanging meaningless pleasantries, both parties filtered out of the room and the Sindar were ushered to a private room where they could relax and take refreshment.

"What can he be thinking?" Mablung said as soon as they had been left alone.

"Typical Noldor, thinking only of themselves," Oropher spat, crossing his arms over his chest and pacing back and forth. "They do not understand their impact on our people, on the land. If the onodrim were here they would show them all right." Galadriel gave Oropher a furtive glance but then turned her attention back to Celeborn, taking him aside as Mablung moved to pacify the younger prince.

"I am sorry," she whispered, placing her hand on his arm and looking into his eyes with concern. "I advised you not to claim these lands as your own but I fear that advice has only brought you trouble." She was surprised to find that they were filled with resolution and confidence rather than worry and concern.

"No," Celeborn shook his head, looking into his eyes with conviction, "you were right. It would have inflamed his anger if I had done so. I could see it in his eyes."

"You aren't upset with me then?" She asked, concerned, and he shook his head again.

"You saved me back there," he whispered to her, his gaze intense. "I nearly lost my temper with him. I would have doomed us all had you not had the presence of mind to stop me. The touch of your hand…I…somehow I suddenly felt as though I were walking in the forests of Doriath and my heart grew calm."

"You saw it?" Galadriel exclaimed quietly, her eyes lit with excitement as she grasped his hands. "I sent it to you – a vision. I thought, well, that night that the long peace began you and I saw the same vision, I know it! It was almost as though I could feel your emotions within myself and I thought that perhaps I could do it again, send you some sort of vision to help calm you." She squeezed his hands with joy. "It worked didn't it!"

"Yes," Celeborn said, suddenly appearing anxious, "yes, I suppose that it did." Galadriel fell silent, sensing that for some reason this displeased him. Momentarily he seemed to regain his composure and squared his shoulders. "Anyway," he said, "it was certainly a good call on your part. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Galadriel nodded. "But why did you let him stop things?" She asked "If we had just pushed a little harder, a little more, he might have caved. I worry that this recess will only harden his heart and mind against our proposition."

"He would not have caved," Celeborn said. "There was no compromise to be had there, Galadriel. That isn't the problem."

"Then what was it?" She asked. "I saw the look in your eyes, as if you had discovered something."

"Did you see the way Maedhros looked when I implied that a different method of mining the ore would be more profitable?" Celeborn asked.

"Nervous…" Galadriel began to say.

"And confused," Celeborn interrupted her in his excitement. "He does not know any other method than the one he has been using." Galadriel fell silent. "He thought he could pay us off with only the reparations, that having gotten some money we would go home and not bother him any longer. That was why he did not argue us down any lower on that matter. We got twenty percent more than we asked for and I wondered why. Surely he could have argued harder on that point but I think he hoped that, having gotten our money we would leave things be."

"How did you know?" She asked, surprised.

"I have been wondering for the longest time," Celeborn said, his eyes burning with the excitement of one who has just solved a riddle, "why they persisted even though it meant war with Doriath, why they would take such a risk. And then I also wondered why they would clear cut the forest, an expensive and dangerous task, when there were more cost efficient methods of digging the mines. It struck me all of a sudden," he said, "when he seemed to balk so horribly at the idea of drift mining. We have leverage here, Galadriel," and he seemed suddenly very excited by the idea. "That is why we cannot even get him to consider stopping, that is why he has been doing this for so long, why all of our people's requests have been ignored. He is getting at the ore by blasting the tops off the mountains because he knows no other way of mining it from the earth."

"Oh," Galadriel was surprised that Celeborn had been able to discern something about Maedhros that she had not. Then again, she reminded herself, there is a reason why he is the king's chief counselor. "But how were you able to discern his heart?" She asked.

"Because I know full well what Noldorin pride looks like," he said. Galadriel scowled at him. "Yes, it looks exactly like that," he said.

"Well then how do we proceed?" She asked. It seemed that Celeborn's characteristic decisiveness had returned to him after all these years of indecision and delay.

"I want to send some of our people here, some of the elves who worked with the dwarves of Belegost when we excavated the caves of Menegroth. They will be able to teach Maedhros's people some different methods, appropriate methods that will not devastate the surrounding land. But, of course, I must present it to him as if it is a gift or a trade rather than a favor, correct?"

Galadriel nodded. "He would think it was patronizing, insulting even," she said, "if you sent Sindar here to teach Noldor. But perhaps he would welcome the aid if it were to make his operations more profitable. I am sure that he does not wish for conflict with the Sindar. Maedhros only welcomes conflict when he can see no other way."

"Then what if I say that as the Sindar have done so much to hinder his operations here and, given that the reparations he will pay us are exceedingly generous, and furthermore, as he himself has said that he wishes for some assurance from our people that they will no longer sabotage his operations, I think it only fair that our people share in the burden of the work."

"And how will the Sindar that Thingol sends be paid?" Galadriel asked. "We cannot ask Maedhros to pay their wages."

"With the additional twenty percent of the reparations that we have received," Celeborn replied.

"That is perfect," Galadriel agreed, grasping his hands more tightly, caught up in his excitement. "He will understand exactly what it is you are offering, demonstration of methods, but he will appreciate that you have not laid his ignorance bare. But have you the authority to make such an offer?"

Celeborn shrugged, "it would be somewhat debatable," he told her, "but I have found that sometimes with the king's council it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission. And…" he paused, "I want you to be the one to propose it, Galadriel."

"Me?" She asked, surprised.

"I think they will take it better and with less suspicion coming from a Noldo," he said.

"Celeborn," she shook her head, "women have not even the right to inherit amongst the Noldor…"

"I will not follow backwards conventions," Celeborn said firmly, "even if they are the ones that Maedhros follows. You are the right person for the job, Galadriel, and I would have you do it." She swallowed and nodded.

"Then you must assist me," she whispered and he nodded his agreement and grinned. Galadriel had to work hard to suppress the grin that threatened to spread across her face and reminded herself that she was supposed to be frustrated with him for denying that he loved her. It was such a very hard thing to do because she could not help but respect how he had managed to remain focused on their shared goal despite the troubles that had awoken between them, could not help but note how well they worked in tandem, even when their hearts were at odds.

Thunder rippled through her thoughts, booming out against the great hollowness of the dark sky, creased only by the blinding white crackle of lightening that branched like a tree, illuminating the earth for brief moments in stark light. The earth was troubled tonight, rumbling, and all around Galadriel could hear the trees creaking in the breeze of the storm, the rumbling of the earth beneath her feet, almost as though it were speaking to her. In the glimpses of light she could see the leaves of the trees, the blades of grass turned up towards the heavens as though they thirsted for the rain that was about to fall. And fall it did, beginning to rain down at first softly but then growing into a great storm so loud she could hardly hear. The lightning flashed again with a thunderclap so loud she could feel the earth shake and she saw illuminated the fierce wonder on the face of the young man who stood at her side. Celeborn… she whispered in her mind. He almost seemed to crackled with the energy of the lightening itself, his hair as white as its light, as he looked out across a broad plain. It was as if life itself lived in the crack and roll of the thunder.

"I was saying that perhaps we ought to be getting back," Celeborn said, looking at her as though he wondered if she were alright.

"Oh yes, of course," she stammered, trying to collect her thoughts, to shake off the strange vision that had come over her. It hardly seemed a vision, more of a memory almost, except that the memory could not possibly be hers. It had been a while since she had last had one, but then again, it had been a while since she had spent any time around Celeborn and he, it seemed, engendered them. That was not so surprising really, considering that it was always him who she saw in the memories. Perhaps there is more to these visions of Celeborn than I thought, she mused. Perhaps these are visions of a different sort, after all, he looked at me so oddly when I told him only a few minutes ago that I had managed to calm him by means of them.

"Are you alright, Galadriel?" He asked, reaching out, touching her hand briefly and she felt a white-hot jolt run through her as though she had been struck by that selfsame lightening. She nodded in affirmation and yet she had managed to calm herself again by the time that they reached the negotiation chamber and assumed their seats. Celeborn had said that he wanted her to handle this, that she would be more able to present it to them in the proper fashion but she could feel her stomach churning. To do such a thing in Aman, amongst the Noldor at least, would have caused a veritable uproar. Maedhros flashed her a smile as he entered with his brother and she grinned back at him in return.

"I was speaking to the Prince during our recess," she said, wanting to get the first word in, "and I expressed my concern that what he asked of you just prior to our rest taking was not quite fair."

Maedhros's auburn brows shot up but he seemed intrigued rather than put off and he folded his hands, setting them upon the table before him. "How so?" He asked her.

"I found the Prince's request to be unfair on three counts," Galadriel said. "Earlier you stated that the Sindar had hindered and sabotaged your operations here," Galadriel said, feeling her confidence growing. "Though we have deducted the cost of damages done from the amount of reparations that you will pay, it still seemed unfair to me that you would receive no assistance in either money or manpower to repair what damage the Prince's people have done you." Maedhros nodded at her words, seeming pleased.

"Secondly," Galadriel continued, "the amount of reparations that you have agreed to pay to Doriath is exceptionally generous. Indeed, as you saw when we compared our ledgers earlier, the reparations you will pay exceed the financial losses that we have endured. In light of your generosity it hardly seems just to demand that your people do all the work while the Sindar do nothing to assist."

"Lastly," she said, "I have made the prince understand the cost in terms of money and labor of converting your operations from strip mining to drift mining. Given the two points that I have previously mentioned, it seems that it would be far more just if the Sindar were to assist you in doing this seeing as they are the ones making the request that you do so. With Sindarin workers here you could rest assured, as you have stated you desire, that the Sindar will no longer work to undermine your operations here."

"As the Prince mentioned earlier," she continued, "there are some citizens of Doriath who are very experienced miners, having worked with the dwarves of Belegost digging drift mines and having helped in the excavation of Menegroth when she was first built. It seems to me that if Thingol were to send these people here to assist you in the transition then it would decrease the amount of manpower and money that you yourselves would need to invest, which I believe is only fair, given how generous you have been in your offer of reparations."

Celeborn was drumming his fingertips upon the table as if he were agitated and Galadriel nearly smirked at the dissatisfaction that he was feigning, putting on a little show for Maedhros and Maglor to make them think that he had only grudgingly come to agree with her, that the sons of Feanor were triumphing over Doriath on this point.

"This sounds to me," Maedhros said, a smile on his face, turning towards Celeborn, "a very promising idea and, as you have said, a way of ensuring that no further conflict erupts between our peoples. Moreover, I particularly appreciate the idea that the Sindar will help us in putting right what they have broken." He laughed and shook his auburn head. "I must admit," he said, "at first I wondered at Thingol that he would make Galadriel his counselor, but now I find I am rather glad that he has someone who can understand the Noldorin mind and heart."

"I have always found Galadriel to be more than capable in whatever she turns her mind to," Celeborn said a bit stiffly, having taken some offense at the implications of the son of Feanor's comment.

"But," Maedhros said, addressing Celeborn now, "how shall these workers be paid? For, surely you must agree that it is not fair that I pay their wages. They are, after all, to assist me in a task that Thingol has put upon me, not something I would do of my own will if given a choice."

"The Lady Galadriel did caution me of that as well," Celeborn said, "and I believe it would be best for them to be paid out of the reparations that you will provide to us. Thus, no extra funds will be needed on your part." Maedhros nodded and turned to speak to Maglor in whispers before he turned back to Celeborn.

"In that case," he said, "I believe that we are satisfied."

"Then we also are satisfied with the deal that has been agreed upon," Celeborn replied with a polite smile. The two princes sat back as the scribes rushed forward to draw up the new treaty, their quills quickly scratching across the parchment.

"I must admit that I was worried," Maedhros said.

"And why is that?" Celeborn asked.

"I have often found myself unsettled by men who take too much advice from women," Maedhros said. "Usually they are quite weak. After all, Finarfin turned back from our quest at the behest of his wife, forsaking his kinsmen, and my father himself nearly abandoned his finest work, turning the Silmarils over to the Valar at the urging to my mother, but it was only at the last moment that he chose not to do so and, regaining his strength of heart, cleansed his mind of her words and vowed to retake what was rightfully his. For a moment I feared that you might be a man such as Galadriel's father, easily ruled by the words of women, and yet I have found you to be a worthy adversary."

Galadriel had to stomp on Celeborn's foot with as much force as she could muster to prevent him from springing from his chair and across the table to wrap his hands around her cousin's neck. She knew that Maedhros had meant it as a compliment, that he had not meant to offend, that this was not such a strange thought to men of the Noldor, but to Sindarin ears, to one who had been raised by Melian and alongside Luthien, she knew it sounded a grave insult.

"I am honored by your words," Celeborn said, seeming to have understood why she had just abused his foot so terribly, and the peace was maintained and the treaty signed and sealed before they adjourned to the festivities that awaited them.

---

"You love him," Galadriel was startled by the quiet yet familiar voice and turned to her left to see Maedhros standing there. "That silver hair…trust you to find the most Sindarin looking Sinda you could find and then fall in love with him simply to be obstinate."

"I take it you do not approve?" She asked, taking a nervous swallow of her wine. "I know that Curufin and Celegorm certainly do not so I must assume that Caranthir is of the same mind."

"And me too by association?" Maedhros asked, turning an appraising eye upon his cousin. "I may not hold with all of your views and practices but I am not my brothers, Artanis."

"Galadriel," she reminded him. "And you are all the sons of Feanor."

"Do not associate me with my younger brothers," he murmured, his eyes dark, brooding. "It is all I can do to control them these days. You must believe me when I say that your Celeborn might very well have met his end at Himlad had I not instilled in Curufin a strong fear of my wrath. Yet, my grip on them is slipping I fear. You ought to tell Finrod to take caution, Galadriel, for they dwell more closely to Nargothrond than to Himring and their thoughts of late grow dark." He took a long drink from the glass of wine he held suspended between thumb and index finger.

Maedhros shook his head as if to clear it of unpleasant thoughts. "Feanor…" he said nothing else but the silence seemed sufficient to communicate what he wished. "Tell me, Galadriel, this Thingol that you serve – would he ever thrust such an oath upon his children."

"Never," Galadriel said, shaking her head, somewhat confused, fearing that they might now be treading in dangerous territory. For a moment she had thought that she had seen a glimpse of Curufin, of Celegorm in his eyes and she reached out to touch her cousin's arm, for she sensed the hurt within him and wanted to bring him whatever small comfort she could. It seemed to quiet Maedhros and the strange, fey glint in his eyes faltered and then faded until he seemed nearly cheerful again.

"Then you are fortunate," Maedhros said. "Forgive me," he said with a small laugh and a shake of his head, "I did not mean to say any of that. I hope I have not upset you."

"Not at all," Galadriel assured him. They looked out over the celebration to see Celeborn, Dairon, and Maglor laughing together and examining some text that Dairon held.

"Nor," Maedhros continued, "did I intent to convey any disapproval over the object of your heart." His eyes lingered on Celeborn. "An unorthodox match, yes, and there are, certainly, many legitimate objections that could be raised, that I might raise, were you my sister. Such a marriage might indeed cause more grief than goodwill between Sindar and Noldor and there is, of course, the matter that he, unlike you, has a kingdom to consider. But what is done is done and cannot be changed I suppose."

"I am afraid that I do not take your meaning," Galadriel said, perplexed, sipping her wine.

"You've no need to play coy with me," Maedhros said. "Perhaps Thingol disapproves but I am your cousin and have known you since you were a babe. Surely you did not think that I would be unable to see the evidence of the bond in your eyes. It is in his eyes as well," his gaze lingered on Celeborn.

"Maedhros I am unbound," Galadriel replied, perplexed, and yet something about what he had said seemed to ring with the essence of truth, a truth that tugged like a thread upon the latent fears that were buried in her heart. "I have never known a man, nor have I made any vows." Maedhros turned to her, his eyes searching her face.

"Rushing into a vow lightly, hastily, with a heart filled with passion and devoid of wisdom can only lead to regrets," his voice was solemn. "Take it from someone who knows."

They were silent for a while in which Maedhros and Galadriel both seemed to be pondering what he had said. "Still," he said as if to make amends for any discomfort he had caused her, "I must say that the two of you ruling a kingdom side by side would be a most formidable thing indeed."

"Maedhros!" Maglor was approaching with Dairon in tow, interrupting the uncomfortable conversation. "Have a look at these songs that Dairon has kindly composed for me. Are they not splendid?" With that he thrust a songbook into his older brother's hands. Galadriel grinned as much at Maglor's excitement as she did at Maedhros's complete lack of musical acumen. Her cousin hardly seemed to know whether or not he was holding the songbook right side up.

"Now I may be able to sing, but you know full well I can hardly read this stuff," he said to Maglor. "You sing them for me so that I might be able to appreciate their beauty as it is meant to be appreciated."

"With pleasure!" Maglor replied before he and Dairon began to sing. But Galadriel had fled that place, returning to the rooms that had been appointed them. And, alone there, she sat before the mirror for many long hours, trying to discern if there was, as her cousin had said, some evidence of some bond in her eyes. But she could see nothing different about her gaze, or else she was not certain what exactly she was looking for. She clutched her trembling hands in her lap.

"It is all nonsense," she said out loud, as if this might help convince her that there was truth in what she was saying, "it is all a joke like they used to play on me when I was a child. And, besides, what does Maedhros know of bonds anyway? They are all probably having a good laugh at my expense this very moment." And yet the thought kept her awake that night, tossing and turning until at last the sun had risen and they departed for Menegroth.

They were welcomed in Menegroth like victors, with rose petals strewn upon the ground and feasts and ever so many parties. And, Celeborn knew that he had achieved his objective, an objective he had now been pursuing for centuries; not just that he had achieved it, that he had surpassed Thingol's expectations. In the months that followed he was cognizant of the fact that he ought to be overjoyed. He was living the best sort of life that Doriath could offer, had the favor of the King, never had to buy his own beer any longer, and was the recipient of many covert admiring glances from beautiful smiling ladies but he gave them not even a second thought, for when he finished with his work each day he returned to his chambers and there, in silence and solitude, the only smile that came to mind was Galadriel's.

She had been so jubilant when they completed the treaty, so very happy and it had gladdened his heart to see her so and yet he had also been able to see the sadness, sadness that he had caused, sadness born of his refusal of her love. It was the same pain that he had caused her so long ago, that terrible pain of truth deferred, of little lies building, bubbling like pus in a blister about to burst, the heartache of the terrible knowing that she loved him but that she loved the lie more and that she had chosen it every minute of every hour of every day, even when he had begged her, pleaded with her to tell it. Well did he remember how his heart had hardened against her, the cold growing so slowly like frost on a flower that had blossomed too soon until the delicate little petals were encased within coffins of ice that slowly choked away what life there had been until only a hollow husk of what had once been was left behind.

Nellas was right; he knew it. He must tell her, he knew that he must; she deserved to know. He ought to have told her earlier, before things had become so much more complicated, before her heart was at stake, before his was. But what was done was done, and, though he did not like it, he knew what he must do, just as he knew why it frightened him so horribly: it might very well cost him her love.

Her love. Galadriel whose heart was full of kindness even for those who had done her wrong, who dwelled not long on scorn and turned her thoughts instead to hope, who could endure anything and rise again, stronger than ever before. He had told Thingol that he did not wish to be a king and he did not, not unless Galadriel stood beside him as his queen. The way in which they had worked in tandem to negotiate this treaty had awakened in him a fire that was quickly burning away what doubts and fears he had had. That feeling of working in perfect harmony with another, with her – he wanted to feel that again and again, a thousand more times. So great had been his joy in their victory upon their return to Menegroth that he had wanted most ardently to consummate what lay between them just as they had consummated the treaty and he had lain awake during the days when he ought to be sleeping with wild thoughts of running to her, confessing his love for her, wedding her in that very instant.

For it seemed that he saw so clearly now what had troubled his heart and staid his hand where he would otherwise never have hesitated. When she had lain there in the houses of healing like one dead he had worried that it was Melkor who would wrap his thorny weeds about the sprout of her life and choke it out, ruin her, twist her, take what good and promise there was in her and pervert it. But now he saw that it was he himself who was taking what love she bore him in her heart and turning it to coldness, to anger, to revulsion with his delay, with the truth that he kept hidden, just as she had once done to him. Melkor's greatest weapon is fear, he had thought it as he stood over her still and dying form and yet he had been so utterly and foolishly incapable of seeing that selfsame fear in himself. Or perhaps he had merely wished not to see it.

How well did he still recall the night that he had first looked upon her with wonder and she had gazed at him in awe, the both of them caught in the fantasia of a moment in which her image had been seared into his memory, painted like a fresco onto his eyelids so that even when his eyes were tight closed he saw her there emblazoned in all that vibrant color, weaving her way amongst the stars, more radiant than the dawn itself. Her laugh – the sound of a creek in spring surrounded by the delicate pink and white of dogwood blossoms where the pungent perfume of osage fruit hung like a heavy musk in the air. Her smile was spun from sunlight, her eyes lit with an ethereal light, the exquisite fire of her soul, the kind gentleness of her heart, the compassion of the touch of her hand, her kiss, a kiss he could hardly remember now, a kiss that had driven the weariness, the sadness from his heart and ushered in joy and vitality.

It was the middle of the day and the entire palace was asleep but Celeborn sat up in bed, his heart pounding like a great war drum and his hands did not shake, nor did his mind waver in his conviction as, without care for who might see or what they might think, he ran through the corridors of his palace his footsteps echoing in the halls as the remembrance of her love echoed in his heart, the only thought in his mind that he must find her, that he would tell her everything.

Galadriel strode back to her chambers wearily, exhausted from the day's work and from the near constant parties that had followed in the months since they had returned from Himring. Despite all of the festivities she simply felt hollow, for Maedhros's words were working upon her heart, compounded by the concerns and frustrations she had already been feeling, and, though she could not fathom how it might have happened or when, she puzzled over whether what he had said about the bond was true and she spent many a fruitless hour searching her eyes for evidence of such a thing.

It was driving her near mad, for if, somehow, someway, there was some bond that lay between them then the curse that lay over her might have had an affect on Celeborn as well. During the days as she tossed and turned in her bed, unable to find sleep, she had wondered if that was what was causing his delay, if he too worried that by sharing a love he would also come to share in her doom. And though the thought brought her pain, she could not find it in her heart to blame him for having such thoughts for she would never wish that fate upon him. And, indeed, if it ever came to him having to choose between Doriath's happiness and her happiness then she most ardently hoped that he would choose Doriath over her, for that was where his heart truly lay and she wished only that his heart be glad.

But her life seemed so very empty without him, nearly devoid of humor and laughter, satisfying, certainly, for everything she had ever hoped for was coming true and, of course, that made her very happy, but it felt as though something was missing and she knew it was the void that he had left in her heart, a place he had once occupied. She knew why. He had said it himself that day they had spent together in the library. All of this had been meant to be their victory: the long peace, the treaty at Himring, the renewal of the alliance with Nargothrond, the newfound cooperation and harmony amongst their peoples. Galadriel had always thought of it that way, even though she did so unconsciously, that when this was all done she and Celeborn would sit and laugh about it together, sit and talk about it, enjoy the fruits of their labor. It was silly, she knew, but she had even imagined it, them lying in the fresh grass outside the gates of Menegroth, eating those cakes he liked so much and wondering why they had ever worried over anything at all. That dream of a victorious duet had become a song of solitude.

Yes, she could have gone to Luthien or Melian and they would have been happy to celebrate with her, but she wanted to go to Celeborn. She had planned this all with him, after all, she wanted to enjoy it with him as well. Indeed, there were so many things nowadays that, upon hearing, she would immediately think, I must tell Celeborn! How he would laugh! And then the thought that followed would always remind her that she could not.

For despite all her willingness, for all her wanting to touch him, to kiss him, to give him her love, Maedhros's words had reawoken that fear that had still been there deep down, that fear that it would only end in ruin all over again, that worry that he would fall out of love with her once more. What guarantee had she that this time it was real? And yet, at the mere thought of that her heart had begun to pound in her chest like a hammer on an anvil and so she pushed those thoughts away.

Try though she might she could not completely erase him from her mind. The treaty at Himring had only served to reinforce how very much she cared for him, how very deeply she loved him. The years without him were boring, dull, sad. And there was a creeping bitterness, a resentment, an anger growing in her that they would never have the joy she thought they so richly deserved. She sighed, feeling incredibly despondent. Doriath had entered into a golden age once more and she felt she was wasting it.

She ought to be celebrating, out drinking with her friends, participating in sporting events, doing something useful, not moping about. It did not help things that all around Menegroth every elf maid seemed to be popping out babies left and right now that they were in a time of peace. Not that Galadriel particularly liked babies, but there was something about them that made her think of renewal, of new opportunities at a time when she felt she was merely running in place and then again there was some slight envy eating away at her as she watched happy couples with their happy elflings. I will recover from this, she thought with determination. I don't need him. I'll be well enough in a while. Time does heal everything, or so they say. No, she didn't need him, but she wanted him; she had chosen him. Was she doing the right thing, or was she simply running away again? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts as she pushed her laundry ticket across the counter.

A hand closed over it with the speed and ferocity of a mousetrap and she looked up into the wickedly grinning face of Paniel and sighed. "Of course," she said, "it would be you."

"It's your lucky day Princess. I washed your clothes myself," Paniel said, looking very much like a cat that had just eaten a canary as she bustled away with the laundry ticket and returned with Galadriel's clothes. Galadriel groaned. Of course, Paniel had dyed one of her chemises a lurid shade of pink.

"Putting the reds in with my whites again I see," Galadriel said.

"Somebody has to remind you where you came from," Paniel said. "Can't have you getting all high and mighty and thinking you're better than the rest of us. Then again…if someone were to influence the king to raise our wages perhaps you might find that your whites stay whiter."

"Are you seriously attempting to bribe me?" Galadriel asked, nonplussed. She found she could not quite be mad at Paniel. Indeed, there was something almost amusing about her scheming and Galadriel wondered if this singling her out for torment had almost become some strange mark of affection.

"Oh no," Paniel shook her head, "I'm threatening you."

"You know, Paniel," Galadriel said, gathering up her clean clothes, "I do believe you missed your calling in life. You are wasted down here in the laundries. They ought to put a knife in your hand and send you to the borders. Beleriand would be cleared of orcs in a week."

"For your information," Paniel said as if she were offended by that, "I will have you know that I am rather a good laundress. I can get out any stain, stains that these peasants," she gestured at the younger laundresses who seemed to scurry about in fright of her, "could never manage to get out." Suddenly it was like a key fitting into a lock and Galadriel's mouth dropped open.

"It was you," she said adamantly. "It was you who cleaned my dancing costume that night that Saeros ruined it!"

"Nonsense," Paniel said. "I don't know what you're going on about." She turned away, marching back into the laundries, shouting threats at her subordinates but Galadriel had seen the small grin before she had turned and she knew, in her heart of hearts, that it had certainly been Paniel that had helped her that night.

"Paniel! Thank you!" She cried.

"Nobody wants your stupid apologies, Galadriel!" She heard Paniel call back, though she could no longer see her.

But her encounter with Paniel had caused her to think of Bainwen, for she was passing now near the servants' quarters on her way to her own rooms. It had been years now since she had seen her friend and the longer that trend persisted the more squeamish she grew about seeking her out. For Bainwen must be a good deal angrier with her than she had anticipated for such distance to have grown in their relationship. Goodness, Galadriel mused, it seems I can't have even one glad thought this day! And how very strange, for today was a happy day indeed. She had just secured renewal of diplomatic relations with Nargothrond, just renewed the alliance between Finrod and Thingol, just written to her brother inviting him to come visit Menegroth, informing him that Thingol wished to take council with him.

She made yet another effort to calm herself, to eliminate her bad mood, stopping in the daylit corridors, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Already the warm rays of the sun beat down on her. She hated going to sleep this late in the day for it meant she would be already exhausted when she awoke but it seemed that she was incapable of sleep this day. Her thoughts were running wild. The sound of retching greeted her ears and Galadriel's eyes snapped open.

Certainly, her ears must be deceiving her, she thought as she glanced about. She heard nothing else and so she began her trek to her lonely rooms and her cold bed once more, sighing yet again. She stopped. There it was again. She was sure of it. There was, indeed, someone retching.

"Hello?" She called quietly. She had thought this place deserted. It was a rather odd place to be anyway, halfway between the servants' quarters and the houses of healing. It was daylight as well. She could not fathom who else would still be awake, and having a tough time of it too from the sound of things.

"Hello?" She called again, looking around the corner, and she heard the retching noise again. "Is someone there?" She walked a short ways down the hall and then she saw it, or her rather, a dark haired elf woman in a nurse's uniform hidden in an alcove, vomiting into the fountain there, her white-knuckled, trembling hands gripping the rim of it. Galadriel grimaced, hoping that this particular fountain was not in any way connected to one that supplied her with water.

"Are you…is something the matter?" She approached the girl, who looked up with frightened eyes filled with tears. "Inwen!" She gasped upon recognizing the woman. They had never been particularly close, but Galadriel certainly had not forgotten her. The brunette merely took a deep shuddering breath and wiped her sleeve across her teary eyes.

"Oh Galadriel, she's going to kill me," the girl sobbed.

"Who?" Galadriel asked, tentatively touching the girl's shoulder. "Do you mean Madame Camaeneth, the chief healer? Have you made some mistake? Is she that frightful? Is it Madame Lhaineth? I know she can be strict but she isn't so horribly bad. Surely, if you explain to her whatever is the matter…"

Inwen nodded, wiping her eyes again. "I…oh, he'll hate me…" she stammered.

"He? Who? Inwen, what ever is the matter? You're not making any sense." Galadriel said but the girl began to vomit once more and the Noldo quickly gathered her hair, holding it for her and rubbing her back until the girl stopped vomiting and looked up at her with teary eyes.

"Have you nicked some of the medicine?" Galadriel asked. "Is that why you're ill?"

"No!" Inwen exclaimed, offended, her dark eyes flashing with anger. "I would never!"

"I'm sorry," Galadriel said. "It was wrong of me to assume." But Inwen seemed to collapse, as if the burden she bore had suddenly become too heavy, and Galadriel moved forward to catch her, helping her sit upon the ground.

"You're good at keeping secrets aren't you? That's what they all say anyway: you kept a secret from the King himself for two decades." She did not wait for Galadriel's reply. "Oh Galadriel, you know Prince Celeborn. Maybe you can help me. You must! Please! I'll be ruined! I…I'm with child." Inwen said and silence hung between them for the span of a few moments as Galadriel gaped, open-mouthed, at the nurse. And now she understood Maedhros's words, for there was some light in Inwen's eyes that had not been there before. She had never been given cause to take note of such a thing before, but now it occupied her thoughts with a great intensity. She struggled to calm the trembling of her hands.

"Is this not good news?" Galadriel asked at last, somewhat perplexed.

"No," the girl said, "no not at all. This wasn't supposed to happen."

"What do you mean?" Galadriel asked and the girl's face crumpled as though she were about to begin crying in earnest.

"He hates children," the girl stammered.

"Your husband?" Galadriel sought clarification, rubbing the sobbing girl's back. She had had no idea that Inwen was married and she was still very confused, for if Inwen was married then she could not fathom why she still slept in the servants' dormitory. None of the other married servants did.

"Y…yes," the girl stammered.

"Did he tell you?" Galadriel asked.

"No, but his brother did," the girl looked entirely distraught at the thought.

"But surely…it would not be possible to create an elfling if the both of you had not been willing."

"I do not know," the girl replied, shaking her head violently as she wrapped her arms around her knees. And then she looked at Galadriel hopefully saying, "do you know anything about creating an elfling?"

"Beyond the physical mechanics of it I am afraid not," Galadriel said. "I suppose that I always thought I would ask another woman when the time came, one with children of her own."

"I don't understand how…I only thought about it for the briefest of moments, that I wanted a child, that I desired that more than anything…I thought it would be more difficult to do, to create an elfling. We aren't even supposed to be married," Inwen said. "It was an accident. We…we weren't even officially courting, we couldn't, it would never have been allowed. And then…then one day…oh things just went too far and we were caught up in the moment and…and we, we bound ourselves to one another on a whim. It was foolish and stupid. And nobody knows. If they found out…oh they'd have our heads! I daren't look anyone in the eyes. If I did they would know, they would know I have married and done so without the King's consent! And, oh, Galadriel you are the only one who can help me! How fortunate that you came upon me, truly, it must be the work of Illuvatar." Things were slowly starting to fall into place but Galadriel still could not figure out exactly what had happened, nevertheless, she comforted the distraught girl, rubbing her back soothingly and wiping away her tears.

"Do not worry," Galadriel assured her. She need not ask how they had managed to accidentally bind themselves in the heat of the moment. She and Celeborn had come dangerously close on several occasions once upon a time. "If there is anyone who excels at keeping secrets it is I." That seemed to almost bring a smile to the girl's face.

"Inwen, do you love your husband?" Galadriel asked.

"Yes," Inwen replied.

"And does he love you?"

"Yes."

"Well then," Galadriel said. "That's all you need to be married, so long as you have spoken the words of Illuvatar. I mean, certainly it might be considered a little rude in more polite circles to marry without announcing your betrothal but so many of the Sindar on the borders do so and the Green Elves and Avari almost always marry in such a fashion. Indeed, there are even some Noldor who have done so, or so I have heard."

"We did speak the words of Illuvatar and make the vows before we bound ourselves," Inwen told her.

"Then you don't need the king's permission at all. That's only for Luthien and the princes and such, not for people like us. There must be some way to sort this all out."

"But I do need it, the King's permission I mean," Inwen said, looking up at Galadriel once more. "Prince Galathil is the father of my child. He is my husband."

Galadriel went slack-jawed at that and it took a few minutes for her to recoup, meanwhile, Inwen sniffled quietly. "I…well…" Galadriel stammered at last. Everything had clicked into place. It was not the right thing to say, apparently, and Inwen burst into a fresh torrent of tears.

"Thingol will exile me!" She cried. "And he will exile Galathil and my reputation shall be ruined, I will lose my position in the houses of healing! They were training me to be a surgeon, Galadriel, and now I shall lose it all! And Galathil, he will be furious with me. He despises children! I have brought ruin upon him! And what of my baby? Exile is no life for a child!"

"Inwen, Inwen!" Galadriel took the girl's face in her hands, looking into her eyes until she calmed down a bit. "Look here, there's no need to get so upset. But we must make things right, even if it is very frightening and trying to do so. An elfling needs energy from both father and mother to grow, to flourish, surely you know that from your work. It is not good for her that you and Galathil are living separately. We must remedy this situation."

"You know my child is a girl?" Inwen asked, confused. "Are you certain?"

"Oh, no, I don't think so," Galadriel stammered, confused herself as to why she had assumed that. "It was just a slip of the tongue I think." She took Inwen's hands, squeezing them. "Inwen, as you said yourself, Celeborn is my friend and I can help you, I will help you. I will speak to him on your behalf. I can explain the circumstances to him and perhaps he can give me a better idea of how you ought to approach Galathil about the matter." Inwen was silent for a while.

"Oh, but I don't want him to be angry with Galathil," Inwen murmured.

"Could things get any worse?" Galadriel sighed.

"You're really going to help me?" Inwen said, as if she could hardly believe it and Galadriel nodded. That seemed to calm the nurse down considerably and Galadriel helped her up.

"Is the nausea so bad?" Galadriel asked her and the dark-haired elf nodded.

"Yes," she said. "I have attended many pregnancies lately. Some are worse than others. I had hoped for an easy pregnancy myself but it seems I shall not be so lucky."

"It's these long years of peace," Galadriel said. "Everyone is happy and hopeful and it seems that causes people to want to make elflings." Inwen laughed and wiped away her tears.

"Let me walk you to the dormitory," Galadriel said, offering her arm to Inwen. The girl brightened a little. "And if you have any trouble at all you can come to me." Inwen nodded. They stood and, as they did so, Galadriel glanced at her own reflection in the still waters of the fountain and nearly gasped aloud in shock. It was there, in her eyes, the same light that was in Inwen's. She could see it now.

"Do you want any children, Galadriel?" Inwen asked as they walked and Galadriel struggled to force down the confused thoughts that were threatening to take over her mind.

"I suppose, one day," Galadriel said. "But I'm in no rush and, besides, I'll have to find someone to father them first."

"Celeborn will be the father." Inwen said, "I am sure of it. I still remember that night of the party – the way he looked at you with so much love. That is the way Galathil looks at me."

"Oh I don't know," Galadriel chuckled. "He's rather stubborn about it."

"Men never know what's best for them," Inwen said. "You have to tell them, and very directly."

"That is true," Galadriel laughed and then, her curiosity getting the better of her said, "by the way…the night of that party…were you and Galathil courting then?"

"Yes," Inwen said with a shy nod and Galadriel laughed.

"You know, I was wondering that night why he chose a nurse," she said and Inwen laughed.

"Oh, I was so afraid everyone would figure it out that night!" The dark-haired girl exclaimed. "I was very angry at him! But he was so content with himself and that little joke he pulled on Celeborn, telling him that you were alone and wished to confess your love to him."

"That's what he told him?" Galadriel cried. "Oh I could have killed him for that!"

"Please don't!" Inwen said with a laugh and then she shook her head as though she could not believe her own thoughts. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Whatever for?" Galadriel asked, turning to the dark-haired nurse as they walked leisurely through the corridors on their way back to the servants' chambers.

"Well, I feel I must apologize for my, for my thoughts. I know it sounds a silly thing to say. But, when you first came here Paniel told us all that you were horrid and cruel and so a great many of us feared you even more than we feared her, which is saying quite a lot. And yet I find you to be so kind. That green elf, Bainwen, she was so lonely before you became her friend and now you are offering to help me with my problem and – just the little things, little kindnesses. And then," she grinned, "the way you stood up to Paniel really put the fire in all of us. Before you came she was such a bully to all of us, but I think she is afraid of you now because she doesn't bother any of us anymore, not since you fought her that one day. Even now that you're gone she leaves us alone for the most part."

"I had no idea," Galadriel said with a laugh. But in her heart she was pondering many things, questions for which she needed answers and so, as soon as she had deposited Inwen at the servants' quarters and bid everyone there hello, she turned and began her march towards Celeborn's quarters.

As it turned out, she never made it all the way there for, in her newfound haste to find Celeborn, she rounded a corner rather more quickly than usual, colliding with precisely the elf she had been looking for, and, in their ungraceful efforts to keep from loosing their feet, Galadriel noticed he was so extraordinarily nervous that he appeared to be in danger of losing his dinner and she feared that she would have to deal with yet another vomiting Sinda. Grasping each other's arms, they at last managed to steady themselves.

"Galadriel!" Celeborn said, his voice, quick, panicked almost. He reached out, taking her by the shoulders in a firm grip, his eyes burning with resolution. "I have been looking for you!"

"What?" Galadriel asked, thoroughly confused. "Why?"

"There is something I must tell you, something very important," he said adamantly. "I must tell you now, immediately, before I lose the courage."

She stared at him blankly, "of…of course," she said, surprised, "but there is something of dire importance that I must tell you as well and I had better tell you it this very instant for it concerns most closely the well-being of your family."

"Let us go to my chambers and speak there," he said and they headed off at a near sprint and arrived at their destination quickly, whereupon Celeborn shut the door behind them. They had hardly sat down before he blurted out, "I have bound you to me!"

And, at the same time Galadriel had cried, "Galathil is married and his wife is with child!"

"What?" They both cried in unison, staring at one another in shock. Whatever they had been expecting the other to say it was certainly not what they had said.

"No you first," Celeborn urged her.

"No, you," she replied but she had hardly waited a moment before she blurted out once more, "your brother has married in secret and his wife is with child."

Celeborn repeated the words over and over in his mind, not quite understanding them though the meaning was perfectly clear. It was as if some fog hung over his head. "My…my brother?" He finally managed to splutter and Galadriel nodded. He sat for a moment longer. "My brother, Galathil is married and his wife is pregnant?" He asked. Galadriel nodded again. All of a sudden it was as though the fog lifted and Celeborn could feel his own eyebrows shooting up. He could hardly believe it. Galathil was a prankster but, of the two of them, he had always been less prone to rash actions and words than Celeborn.

"How? To whom? When?" The words tumbled out. The shock of the whole thing had overwhelmed his thoughts. "Why has he said nothing to me?" Celeborn's anxiety of a moment earlier was slowly being replaced with anger like sand filling an hourglass.

"No one knows," Galadriel said, "save you and I. It seems they have been seeing each other for a while in secret, since around the time that I returned. She is a servant, not noble born, a friend of mine, and they did not get Thingol's permission before they wed. It seems it was rather an accident, that they got carried away and went a bit further than they intended."

"A bit further?" Celeborn spluttered incredulously. Galadriel could see that vein throbbing in his temple that signaled his anger. And Celeborn had a million thoughts running through his mind. He could not help but be furious with his brother for having done such a thing, for having married without the King's consent, for having put this burden upon some pitiable girl, for having not confided in him.

"Now Celeborn, do not grow wroth with him," Galadriel chided. "Consider how very, very many times you and I nearly took things a bit too far."

"That was different!" Celeborn cried.

"It was not," Galadriel said firmly. "And besides, what good will anger do?"

"How did you…why do you know?" Celeborn asked, still perplexed.

"The poor girl has been having terrible stomach pains and nausea because of the pregnancy," Galadriel said. "I happened upon her and she told me what had happened out of hope that you could help. I used to work with her, in a way, though we practiced different trades."

"Why should they need my help?" Celeborn fumed. "They have gotten themselves into this mess. They ought to go to Thingol themselves and take care of this business."

"Celeborn," Galadriel glared at him, "have some compassion." They sat in silence for a moment while he calmed his heart and then she said, "Galathil does not yet know. She is terrified to say anything about the child to him because he despises children."

"Despises children?" Celeborn looked extraordinarily confused. "He loves them. Why would she think he despises them?"

"Oh?" Now it was Galadriel's turn to look surprised. "She said that you told her he hates them. That is why she has not told him, why she has been worrying herself sick…"

"Oh…." The look of comprehension was dawning now on Celeborn's face. "Oh…the nurse…the one from the halls of healing…what was her name?"

"Celeborn, why would you say such a thing if it was untrue?" Galadriel asked, concerned.

"It was…it was a…a tricky situation. I was not thinking clearly," he stammered, for the pieces were all coming together now. He turned to her then, looking worried. "It seems things have come full circle," he said, meeting her gaze, finding confusion in the azure depths of her eyes, "for that is exactly what I had been meaning to tell you only a few minutes earlier."

He reached out to hold her hands within his own. There was something strange in his eyes, something different…only she knew what it was now, that strange glow, and she wondered how she had not seen it before. She swallowed hard, trying to find the courage to hear his words, and he took a deep breath before he found the courage to say what he must.

"When you were sick, poisoned…" he said, "they thought that… that there was a very good chance you would pass to Mandos's halls or, that if they did manage to heal you it would only be in part, and for weeks you lay as if you were dead, never waking, the poison slowly wasting your body away. They thought you were too far gone to save…even Thingol thought so."

"Yes," she said, "So I have been told. But what does that have to do with anything? Their medicine worked and I got better. These are, after all, the best healers Middle Earth has to offer." And yet, even as she said those words she could see the profound depth of sorrow in his eyes that the memories had caused.

"No," Celeborn said. "It was I who healed you." And the silence that followed his words was so deep that Galadriel was certain she would have been able to hear a hairpin drop on the other side of Menegroth. Now it was her turn to be perplexed and Celeborn felt some odd sensation, as if his heart were turning over and over, tumbling down a hill. Her questions were clearly written on her face. "At first I did not go to heal you…I…I don't really know why I went. It is a horrible thing to say but I…wanted to see you completely destroyed. I still bore you so much anger and I…I wanted to see you powerless so that I would know that you held no power over me any longer." Galadriel shrank back from him at those words, removing her hands from his grasp as if his touch had suddenly become loathsome to her.

"And have you harbored such thoughts for me all this time while you pretended to be my friend?" She asked him, looking at him with revulsion now. "Do you wish still for my destruction?" She knew it was not true but, suddenly, she found herself frightened of him, worrying over what he might have done to her that she did not know about, disturbed by the knowledge that Maedhros had been more trustworthy than Celeborn in this instance.

"Nay!" He cried. "It is not so. I feel differently now and have so felt for a very long while. Seeing you there, like that…I could not bear it, could not tolerate seeing all of your strength sucked away and I grew repentant, I could not bear to let Morgoth have you, to let him ruin you, break you the way I had already seen so many broken. And so…I healed you." The anger in her face had lessened slightly and he took a deep breath as he continued. "It was crude magic, archaic magic, Sindarin magic, rudimentary but strong. I knew it would work, but it is forbidden, considered criminal by most."

"What did you do?" She asked, and her voice sounded far more frightened than angry now.

"Blood magic," he said, hardly daring to meet her eyes from the shame of admitting it, but somehow he found the strength within himself to do so. "I…I am no healer; I have not the art, nor the patience, nor the delicacy. I am a warrior, a taker of life, and so the only thing I could do was to take part of my own life, to put it into you. It is the only type of healing I know, but it binds the healer to the one they have healed. There are a few amongst the march wardens who have saved the lives of other wardens in such a fashion, though in those cases they were able to consent to the bond." He fell silent. "What I did…" he did not finish his sentence. They both knew the implications. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"All those years ago you asked me if I was frightened of you, if I worried that you might bewitch me with some dark elven…spell," her voice was as bitter and hard as her words, "Perhaps I should have been! You bound me to you without my consent! How can I…how can I marry? You have stolen my future from me!" She wrapped her arms around herself as though that would protect her.

"It is not a marriage bond. It is not that," he was quick to stammer, attempting to dispel her fears. "It is a bond of blood, achieved by cutting the veins, by mingling the blood and the life, not by…not by intercourse. It is rather like a familial bond, something you might share with a sibling." His heart already felt as though it had been smashed upon the cold stone of the floor and he knew that he only had himself to blame for it.

"Oh," she said simply, letting out a deep breath, and then she shook her head. "Celeborn, forgive me...I…forgot myself for a moment. What I said just now…I…I did not mean it. I know that is not your character." But confusion still churned in her heart, for she had never heard of such a thing amongst her own people and she found that she did not understand it at all. Had he told her this soon after he had done it then it would have been easier to deal with, for the intimacy between them had not yet been renewed at that point.

"The memories I know you must be seeing, perhaps you have been thinking they are visions," he said by way of explanation, "the memories of which you personally have no recollection, memories that are not yours, that is why," he said. "You are not the only one who sees them. I see them too, things I could not possibly have seen, your memories of the two trees, of Tirion, of Alqualonde. It is a …a sort of effect of the bond, almost like a marriage in that way, the shared memories. But I cannot see your thoughts, I cannot speak to you in your mind as I would be able to if it were a marriage bond."

"Celeborn…I," she shook her head as if she had no words, indeed she did not, and they sat in silence for a while before Galadriel found herself able to speak again. "It is not that I am not grateful, I am. I am grateful that you saved my life but…" She knew that she ought not put much stock in what Maedhros has said about rushing into things, for her knew nothing of the relationship between her and Celeborn, but it was because his words had agreed with the latent fears in her heart that she had not been able to dismiss them entirely. She loved Celeborn, she was sure of it, she had for many centuries. She was not rushing into this with her eyes closed, and yet the sudden news of this bond was a great shock, for now she felt that he had removed whatever choices she might otherwise have had and that was a great blow to the heart.

"Would you rather I had let you die? Is it so terrible?" He implored her, his voice thick with concern. "I had precious few choices Galadriel. I did what I could, what I thought best. I would have wished you to do the same had our positions been reversed."

"No, it isn't that," she said, and he felt her hand on his again, squeezing, reassuring. Even that slight touch meant the world to him, nearly engendered hope in his heart that perhaps all was not lost, perhaps he had not hurt her as badly as he had feared. "It is just rather a lot to wrap my head around at the moment. A bond: that is a serious thing Celeborn. Those memories of mine that you have seen…those were private, personal, and I had no choice in whether to share them with you or not. And…and I wish that I had, for I would have shared them with you of my own volition and yet the fact that I was never given that option, never even made aware of what had been done, feels rather like a violation of sorts, even knowing that your intentions were good."

"I know," he said simply and then he shook his head, a tight knot in his throat. "I am sorry, Galadriel. I owe you an apology for having kept this from you for so very long. I had so many reasons stored up in my mind as to why I had done it, all worth nothing, for the truth of it is that they all have the same root, which is fear. I don't mean to make it sound so grand…" he murmured, "It was cowardly of me, and deeply hurtful and selfish. I know that an apology is so completely inadequate…" his voice trailed off into the silence and Galadriel did nothing to fill that quiet or alleviate the tension that hung between them.

"Celeborn…" She said at last. He knew what she was going to say and he hung his head. "This means you are…you are bound to my fate now doesn't it? The doom of Mandos lies upon you as well. For, if I am understanding this correctly then this is a sort of bond of kinship…"

"Yes," he nodded. He heard her sob before he felt the tears fall to where their hands were joined and he turned, instinctively, taking her into his arms, holding her close, his own tears falling freely now too as they clung to one another.

"It was never supposed to hurt you," she sobbed. "I hoped you were free of it. I hoped you had been spared. What hope is there now? I ought never to have left Aman. How was I supposed to know what lay in wait for me? How was I supposed to know that you were here and that you are so wonderful and that I would be your destruction?"

"Galadriel," he whispered into her cheek, "had we married I would have come under the same fate."

"No," she shook her head, "my husband you would have been, but you still would not have been of my blood. I have made you one of the dispossessed," she whispered with great regret.

"I am a Moriquendi," he told her, "I was already forsaken."

"Do not call yourself that," she said, looking up at him with eyes full of tears, "you are good, and kind, and wise. There is no darkness in you. Oh Celeborn, you should not have done it. It would have been better if you had let me die and yourself been spared!" Whatever revulsion she had felt for him earlier was gone now, supplanted by the overwhelming feeling of guilt that burdened her now, born of the knowledge that he had offered up his own life so that she might live.

"No," he said, "for I would rather live but a short while with your company than an eternity in a world without you. I knew what I was doing Galadriel, I knew from the moment I decided to make the bond. I knew that I was binding myself to your fate and I did so freely, of my own volition and conscious choice."

"Why?" She cried. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because I love you, Galadriel," he said, "more than anything and for love of you I shall go even unto Mandos's halls if that is what is required of me." And she stared at him with wonder in a silence that was punctuated only by her broken and quiet sobs. His eyes too were wet and he reached up to wipe the tears away but Galadriel caught his hand and clasped it in her own.

"And here I have been so critical of your silence and delay," she said. "I thought that you did not love me but, in truth, I knew not the depth of your love. Can you ever forgive me?"

"It is I who should be begging your forgiveness," he said, "for having withheld this from you for so long."

"I would never wish my doom upon anyone," she said, "least of all you."

"For your life I can endure it," he said, "and I will."

They were silent then for a while and in that silence lay many things yet unsaid, as if all of it were too big for words and at last, heaving a great sigh, Galadriel returned to the matter at hand, saying, "but what does Galathil have to do with any of that?"

"Well that is how I gained access to you," Celeborn admitted. "I could not openly visit your hospital bed and so Galathil provided a distraction by injuring himself. Not a particularly noble thing to do, I know. The nurses tried to place him by the children's ward at first but it would have been too far from your bed for me to see you. And so I told them he did not like children and they moved him next to you instead. That nurse I was speaking to…she must be Galathil's wife."

"Yes," Galadriel laughed a small laugh as though she were trying to put their past conversation behind her, still wiping the dried salt of tears from her face. "That must be it. She is a nurse."

"Then you must tell her that Galathil does not despise children," Celeborn said, his eyes quick with worry. "Can you explain that to her for me? I think it would make things a good deal better for her."

"Yes, of course I will," Galadriel said. "You must help them Celeborn. Please, I beg you, please be their advocate to Thingol. They do love each other and there is a child to consider."

"Of course," Celeborn said, his heart softened now. "What is her name?"

"I promised that I would not tell you," Galadriel said and Celeborn nodded slowly.

"Very well," he said. "Then I shall go to Thingol straight away."

"You must wait," Galadriel said, "for Galathil does not yet know and so she must tell him. I will have her instruct Galathil to come to you once she has spoken to him of the matter and then the two of you can go to Thingol together."

"If she is not too far along perhaps a wedding ceremony can be arranged. I don't think Thingol will take it too badly," Celeborn told her. "I think we can set things right. Tell her she needn't worry." It almost felt as though he was reassuring himself that if things could be put to right for Galathil and Inwen that they could surely be put right for him and her as well.

"Yes," Galadriel said, and her voice was still shaky, weak, but he felt her thumb pressed tight against his palm. He knew what she was going to say before she said it; he knew her that well. "Celeborn," she whispered, "the matter of Inwen and Galathil I am prepared to move forward with but…but this…this other matter, this matter of what you have confessed, of the bond…of what will become of us…I need…time."

He nodded. He understood. What would have been a certain thing only a few years earlier had become so complex, so very difficult. "Of course," he said. He couldn't think of anything else to say.

"It's just…it's that I need to think…It is all rather a lot to take in." she stammered, the words tumbling out before she lapsed into silence.

"You do not owe me any explanations, nor any justifications," he said. His throat felt like sand but his words were thick with conviction. "But, whatever you would require me to do to make this right between us, whatever you need, I will do it if you only ask. Anything, Galadriel, I'll do anything you wish," he said.

"I…I will bear that in mind," she said, standing. "You did right to tell me at last, even though it took a great while, but now, what I need you to do is wait," she said and he looked up at her. She made as if to leave, her skirts rustling over the cobblestones but suddenly she turned back, having seen how horribly crushed he looked, how tears had risen in his eyes and she knew that he had risked what she had not been able to all those years ago. He had been willing to sacrifice his hopes for the sake of the truth that he owed her. "Celeborn," she whispered and he looked up, "it is only for a little while," she said, "until I understand this bond better, until all of this makes sense to me. "I can't make any promises but…" words seemed inadequate and she returned to his side, seating herself for a moment and, gently, pressed a kiss to his temple.

Celeborn turned, his forehead flush against hers, his hand cradling the back of her head and they say in the silence, the peace of a moment before he whispered softly, "may I?" She nodded against him and then felt the slightest brush of his lips against her brow. Squeezing his hand one last time she stood and was gone.

---

Footnote: Just some canonical info on marriages among elves, especially concerning what has happened here with Galathil and Inwen.

"unless they desired soon to be married and were of fitting age [over 100], the betrothal awaited the judgement of the parents of either party.

In due time the betrothal was announced at a meeting of the two houses concerned, and the betrothed gave silver rings one to another. According to the laws of the Eldar this betrothal was bound then to stand for one year at least, and it often stood for longer. During this time it could be revoked by a public return of the rings, the rings then being molten and not again used for a betrothal. [...]

But these ceremonies were not rites necessary to marriage; they were only a gracious mode by which the love of the parents was manifested, and the union was recognized which would join not only the betrothed but their two houses together. It was the act of bodily union that achieved marriage, and after which the indissoluble bond was complete. In happy days and times of peace it was held ungracious and contemptuous of kin to forgo the ceremonies, but it was at all times lawful for any of the Eldar, both being unwed, to marry thus of free consent one to another without ceremony or witness (save blessings exchanged and the naming of the Name [Illuvatar]; and the union so joined was alike indissoluble. In days of old [years of the trees, first age], in times of trouble, in flight and exile and wandering, such marriages were often made."

J.R.R. Tolkien. "Laws and Customs Among the Eldar" (LACE) Morgoth's Ring v 12 of the History of Middle Earth. Houghton Mifflin. 1993. pp 210-213.