I could not resist a final final chapter
)()()()()(
122 FA, off Mithlond, Ethuil the 13th, 3:14:52 PM
On the poop deck of the Limlug Breguril leaned into the strong body of the ellon standing at her side. Her arm rested on his shoulder, pulling the not much shorter male closer. The afternoon land breeze was pushing the vessel westwards and raised a fantail of golden hair behind the man. As it was a warm day Breguril dispensed with a wimple and her scalp bounced off sunlight like a mirror. She had gone to an atani barber that morning for a shave – she wanted to look her shocking best upon arrival at the Undying Lands.
The pair gazed upon the hills of Lindon growing smaller with the distance, the horizon still enclosed by the Ered Luin. The tallest peaks still had their caps of snow, not to melt before mid Laer.
The ellon patted Breguril's hand and gave a reassuring grunt.
- So, this shit ends now ... – the elf maid whispered into the wind.
Celeborn again grunted, agreeing with his step-daughter's summary of seven and a half thousand years of their lives.
A few days later, Tor Eressea
While other elves trickled over the gangplank onto the land, Breguril and Celeborn were intercepted before disembarking by a Higher Being. A majestic looking elf, with a foot over the elleth and glowing like two Glorfindels, had intercepted them. The two Exiles went down on their right knees and muttered:
- Lord Eönwë ...
- Long time no see ...
- Indeed – you have come before me later than you should have, later than you could have, but you have to come to stand before me at just the right time!
- ? - And I thought Mithrandir was bad – passed the mind of the irreverent Noldo Princess.
As if hearing her unspoken words Manwë's Herald winced but did not say anything and turned to Celeborn.
- Teleporno, you could have returned after the War of Wrath, yet you chose your spouse, your spouse's pride over the return. Nevertheles, your selfless service ...
Breguril's attention was drawn to the loud, happy voices of various reunions on the quay. Ignoring Eönwë's blah-blah she straightened her back to get a better look over the railing, seeking out kin.
YES!
There she was – Mother! And Uncle Finrod!
She stifled a SQUEE on seeing Celebrian! Plus a gaggle of Noldor and Lindar and Vanyar nobility, mostly relatives, awaiting Celebron and her. After a second glance failed to reveal any Feanorians amongst them she smiled and waved discreetly and grinned seeing one of the ellith – going by childhood memories either her grand or great-grandmother – faint.
An irritated AHEM throat clearing made her turn her attention to Lord Eönwë again.
)()()()()()()(
Earwën was beside herself in excitement! With Nerwen busy with her husband – the two intertwined like steel rods in a forge welded blade and both with suspiciously glistening eyes – and Írimë propping up Índis, Earwen trudged towards the gangplank to meet her grand-daughter. The yelling from the deck above indicated that – as Teleporno had put it – Breguril was negotiating the terms of her quarantine on Tol Eressea* with Manwë's Herald.
She quietly thanked the Valar for Galadriel's prescience – she had recommended taking smelling salts which helped them revive the family matriarch – Indis had not taken well to Breguril's lack of hair. Earwen had not taken it well either but actually listening to Nerwen's words about Breguril she had prepared herself for such an atrocious sight. Hair was an issue which could be addressed later. She wanted to see the girl she remembered with ribbons in her hair, with pigtails over her ears, chasing butterflies in pretty dresses reaching just below the knee, as still became an elfling of 20 summers, a posse in her hand.
Earwen froze in her tracks once Breguril took a few long strides and strode down the pier in her direction. Nerwen had said that her elder daughter was big but this still had not prepared her for what the red-headed little doll with pigtails had grown into. She was enormous – if Nerwen had been almost outrageously tall for an elleth, Breguril had bettered her by a head. What scars! And what breasts and hips!
GASP!
Little Breguril was wearing breeches! And sword! After raising her hand to her lips Earwen, undaunted, extended her arms to embrace the last of her kin* to come to Valinor. The motherliness of Breguril's figure and aura could also be left for later.
What had struck her were Breguril's eyes. Earwen was no stranger to the haunted eyes of veterans, to eyes that had seen too much and for too long – she had seen them many, many times - first on faces of those who had returned from the War of Wrath, then on the faces of Exiles or the various Moriquendi who had survived the Wars in Beleriand and passed through the quarantine of Tol Eressea. Then on other newcomers to Valinor. On Celebrian. And finally on her own daughter, now known as Galadriel. Earwen had cried when she had seen the world weariness, the tiredness in her daughter's eyes. Nerwen looked as if she had been carrying the burdens of whole Arda on her shoulders for tens of yeni! Yet Breguril looked worse!
Besides the typical "seen too much" and weariness there was Rage! Blood lust? Something akin to the fire in the eyes of hunters when sport with dangerous game in the Pelori Mountains had been particularly hair rising. Was there truth to what Nerwen had claimed about Breguril's sire after all? That it had been – but it was unthinkable – Feanor? An attempt at breaching this topic with Galadriel had led her daughter to give such a stink eye in return that she dared not ask again. Held her grudges well, that one. As to Breguril - well, frankly, she looked half mad, in the deranged meaning of the word.
Her arms grasped empty air as she was shoved back by a palm placed non gently on her chest. Awkwardly stepping back as not to lose balance but tripping over the hem and falling on her bum she gasped as she saw the rage in the eyes above the mouth snarling:
- You did not believe mum!
)()()()()()()(
A year later, entrance to Halls of Mandos.
- Are you sure of what you want?
- Yes! – came the barked response.
And Breguril – by this time banned from all three royal courts and whom even purely Avari communities were giving wary looks, passed onto the Halls of Mandos. With no wars and banned from begetting children out of wedlock to keep her temper down, she often turned violent on those who had wronged her and hers in the First Age. Thus Galadriel's Secret daughter was to remain in there until the Dagor Dagorath when she would be needed. Ironically, this was the fate of Feanor as well.
AN:
* I follow Tolkien's scribbles on table napkins where Tol Eressea was used as a quarantine area for Exiles returning after the War of Wrath. To free them from "taint" or whatnot. I see all newcomers being processed in similar manner, some kept on the island to "cool down". Breguril was unleashed upon Aman, however.
* In my AU Elrohir has already returned, while Elladan – now a Man - is Lord of the Crags in Rivendell
Credits;
Earwen - Galadriel's mum, Breguril's grandma
Nerwen/Artanis - other names for Gladdy
Indis - Galadriel's grandma, Breguril's great-grandma
Eonwe - a Maia
Celebrian and Breguril were besties before she married (cross out as appropriate) "that prick"/"Elrond the Wise"