Chapter Thirty-One
Now's what we all know was coming. What bride and groom will be oblivious to- nothing running their special day of course- is an unexpected, uninvited guest- like Eris in Greek mythology, holding the golden apple- except in secrecy. But don't worry, as I said, nothing will be spoiling it for them.
"Is everything going as planned?" Annatar asked.
His black eyes were a striking contrast to the fairness of his flawless chiselled face and the gleaming brightness of his hair. But they gleamed with something else, more ominous.
"Yes Master," an orc, hidden in the shadows murmured deferentially. It twitched nervously.
"Master, what of the elven High King and his bride?"
The speaker was human.
"We shall be quiet, and thus bide our time." Annatar hissed. "And we wait."
The day dawned brightly.
Little Eleniel, was growing quickly, in mind and in body (for an elf-child). And she gurgled and giggled as her mother attempted to get her to behave.
Estela stood in front of the vanity, as her hair was combed, and gently waved, curling in places framing her face. She had taken a bath, but though she was rosy, she was also pale as she felt a strange calmness settle on her.
All her fears had apparently vanquished, and after so long, it was as if light had bathed everywhere and everyone about her. While her closest friends and the few attendants selected for her tore from chest to chest, to armoire, to the massive closet that held the wardrobe she would need as queen, Estela was silent, and her hands folded on the table.
Her bitter, miserable past had vanished. The future seemed clearer, and brighter. It was impossible to believe, so much so, she didn't dare, and yet…
Was it possible? Maltariel did her hair, stroking the gentle waves and artfully arranging the curling strands around her face. She did not even see herself in the mirror. It was Ereinion she saw, Ereinion she hoped for.
And Ereinion she feared for, in case anything should happen to him. Maltariel arranged several jewelled adamant pins in place and the beautiful diadem of mithril and moonstones and adamants. She smiled at Estela in the mirror, and fanned her cheeks, which, Estela belatedly realised, were flushed.
"Calm, now." Maltariel said cheekily. "You're almost done. Soon, it's time to put on the dress."
Everyone girlishly squealed and Estela smiled as she rose. She was pale, and nervous, yet she was calm, but exited and flushed, so…
What in Arda was happening to her?
She stood as the dusted her with a powder to keep her dry throughout the long day, and everyone held their breaths as the dress was slipped over her head, easing it gently over her hair, and lowered over the shift.
Silmiel and Maltariel spent some time, arranging the dress, making sure there were no wrinkles or anything. Galadriel came forwards and held her hand as they slipped on her shoes, ivory silk embroidered with pearls. She stroked her hair, soothing her and simultaneously smoothing her hair, before the veil was put in place. Galadriel/Artanis smiled as she handed Estela a gold ribbon.
"What's this for?" Estela asked.
"Look at the end," she instructed.
At the end, was a gorgeous elanor blossom, carved out of adamant, which Galadriel fastened to her hair- beneath the veil, it was still visible.
"Your mother's," she murmured. "Your father gave it to her but she made the ribbon to hold it in place. I wish she would be here on this day, but alas, you will have to tell her all about it someday in Valinor."
Estela stared at her, but Galadriel merely smiled, and moved on to speak with some of the attendants.
She swallowed, as the final pieces of jewellery were fastened, everything was arranged in place and they pronounced her ready to go.
Galadriel took her hand, and led her out of her rooms, attendants trailing after her, and Maltariel and Silmiel rushing out. A carpet of rose petals lay on the marble staircase, and the fragrant scent of flowers- Númenórean laurinquë and elanor, roses and myrtle. The attendants moved in front and showered petals.
The place was gleaming. The enamelled or jewelled walls were incredible, polished and shining. The priceless tapestries were thoroughly cleaned, and the paintings in their frames held not a smudge or smear of dirt or dust. Every ornament- statuette, vase, anything at all, were shown to brilliance and flowers in wonderful colours stood out, but didn't look garish. The smell wasn't overly-cloying either. She also smelled nimphredil, and saw it was among the small bouquet of myrtles and roses they gave to her to hold.
This is all so fast, and yet took centuries in the making, she thought. In fact, there were times, she was certain, this was never an option- she gave up any expectation of such a life, long before it was even an option for her to choose.
And yet, it didn't feel so wrong. Even a shieldmaiden as she was, did not feel out of place, at such a ceremony and a life, even though she knew war and grief.
The throne room was where the ceremony would take place.
She wondered who would stand in for Findekáno as he was dead, but it did not matter.
Nothing mattered, except to see him again.
The polished golden doors opened and there, in front of a crowd of well-dressed elves, men and even dwarves, stood Ereinion and Círdan (it appeared the role was his to take).
Ereinion's eyes lit up when he saw her. It was as if he was daring himself to hope. He was resplendent- magnificent, even- in blue and silver trim, with stars on his sur-coat and lighter blue tunic, bronze-coloured trousers with slight gold embroidery and a circlet of silver on his brow. It was as if he was daring himself to hope. He shone with the brilliance of a star and looked as if he such joy that he had never occurred, came upon him. Galadriel gently guided her forwards and even though Estela felt she should feel awkward at such an event, suddenly, she forgot everything- the large crowds, and suddenly restrained herself from rushing forwards to him.
When all was seated, the ceremony finally took place.
The nimphredil and laurinquë seemed to bloom further and emit fragrant scents. The elanor and vardanirianna were bright and seemed to shine with the happiness of the day as Estela and Ereinion's shining eyes met and this hand took hers. Galadriel and Círdan had pushed them gently closer together, before taking their joined hands up into the sky.
Their vows were ancient, spoken before the sun shone and the moon glowed. As if this was in Tirion instead of Middle-Earth, they spoke the ancient words.
Moonlight fell upon them, magnified by the glass of the windows.
The two swore to take each other as spouse, even should death sunder them, even in the worst of times, in any place, in any state, at any time. Nothing would tear them apart.
Galadriel's eyes actually glistened, and she smiled, but something settled about her, as well as the joy of the evening. She felt that nothing would ever sunder them, and that their joy in each other would only increase. Nothing will mar the sweetness of this marriage, she thought. So why did she feel as if something was about to occur?
But the blessing would take place and soon, it was her turn to speak.
Galadriel came forwards and intoned the words, like the vows of bride and groom, in Quenya.
"Nai Varda Tintallë laruva ellor Estela-va ar Ereinion, ar nai Eru Ilúvatar alyuva tet."
"NaiManwë Súlimo laruva ellor Ereinion-va ar Estela, ar nai Eru Ilúvatar alyuva tet." Círdan's voice joined, soon after.
Ereinion smiled, as he slid Estela's silver ring off, and slipped a gold one on her forefinger of her right hand. Estela did the same- his ring was bigger and heavier than hers.
The couple raised their hands to the sky, with Galadriel and Círdan's aid.
They pronounced the couple married.
Cheers resounded throughout the hall and for a moment Galadriel shone. Nothing marred the joy of the evening or for any moment to come.
Or so it appeared.
The celebrations began and the cheers still resounded, ringing in the couple's ears as they made their way to the Great Hall.
Just before the celebrations, Galadriel presented Ereinion with a gem- a dark blue star-sapphire which was tradition. Estela received a gift from Círdan- an emerald gem with silver stars and roses, elanor and nimphredil.
The feast delighted all present, with delicious smells and artistically-decorated dishes.
But in all honesty, Estela could remember very little of what she ate that night. All she was aware of was the warmth of his strong hand, the brightness and blue of his eyes. And the need to be in someplace private with only him.
But sadly, this new life of hers could afford no such thing. Not even when her father was the High King's grandson, did she enter such a public stage as the centre of attention.
But she saw only his eyes, and the softness and shining joy inside. And his brilliant smile.
"I hardly had enough time on my own with you," Ereinion whispered in her ear. "Let everyone else enjoy themselves, let's just leave- you and I."
"Where?" She whispered. "In the gardens." His eyes danced. She shook her head, ruefully. "You know they'll notice. They'll think it's rude, and of the High King, no less, to leave his own guests. And what will they think of me, in my first day, as your wife?"
He grinned, beaming so happily that she almost laughed. She shook her head silently and then whispered. "Maybe if they're too occupied with the wine and the dancing later on," she whispered. His hand tightened around hers. "I've been looking forward to this," he said, mock-resentfully. "You might as well indulge me."
Not too far away, Artanis/Galadriel smiled. But she saw a movement at the corner of her eye and frowned. There was something that should not be here, but was.
Not too far away either, Oropher, dressed in pale blue, laughed over a glass of wine with Amdir of Lothlórien.
Galadriel frowned. What was it?
Silmiel was crooning and playing with her infant daughter. Celebrimbor stood nearby, alternating with talking to guests and amusing the child.
The dwarves were enjoying the wine, and no one seemed to notice if they were getting rowdy or not. Amroth, son of Amdir and Nimrodel his beloved stood further away from them. The leader of the Elendili stood chatting with some of Celebrimbor's fellow craftsmen. His sister, sadly, was too ill to attend.
Nothing seemed out of place.
Galadriel frowned. Her newly-wed daughter and son-by-marriage held hands and looked happy themselves. Celeborn was discussing something with one of Círdan's elves.
There was only light. And she felt it. But she also felt… something else.
She heard laughter and music. Wine and delicacies flowed like spring water, and there was dancing. Nothing seemed wrong.
Not even the absence of the bride and groom.
Estela finally agreed to go with Ereinion, in secret, to the gardens.
Ereinion grinned as he kissed her and suddenly pulled her tightly to him. She laughed freely, like she had never done before, which only increased his joy.
Estela opened her mouth to say something before he pressed his lips to her mouth.
"Hush," he said. Ereinion produced something from his pocket, which hung on a delicate chain.
Puzzled, Estela took it, and held it to the light.
"Something for you to wear." was all Ereinion said.
Ereinion's own wedding gift to her.
She gasped when she beheld it. Not so much because of its beauty, but because of his thoughtfulness and the gesture itself. It was a pendant, shaped similarly to a crest made of gold with engravings of knots and interlocking squares, from top, bottom and sides which met into a single polished malachite gem in the centre. The beauty of the pendant was not lost on Estela, but neither did the fact that she could wear it even wearing something like armour, or anything as fine as a gown as the one she wore.
"I-" she found that she couldn't speak. "Ereinion…" She swallowed. "You didn't. "I did. For you."
Her eyes sparkled with tears. They glistened in the light of the moon and stars. Now, truly now, did she feel like the shadow that had been a part of her life, was gone. Now there was only the light of the stars- and the light in her husband's eyes.
"I love you," she whispered. There she was, unafraid, unbroken and untouched by darkness.
He smiled broadly, and underneath that smile, was the shine of tears.
"And I shall always love you." He whispered. "For all eternity, wherever in Eä, in light, darkness, sorrows and joy. Forever and completely."
But even as they kissed, they had no idea, they were being watched.
Galadriel, still inside the Great Hall, frowned. Something was not right.
Celebrimbor, dressed in scarlet velvet with gold vine-and-leaf trim and black, was laughing with a goblet of wine in hand. His wife had taken baby Eleniel to bed.
But there was something else surely.
The Lady of Light closed her eyes. Melian had taught her, centuries before, many things which some would consider magic.
She expanded her consciousness, and even peeked into the shadow world. She saw only light. Light and joy and love. But there was something else.
Something lingered on the outskirts of it all. Something was fast approaching. Like the shadows of a storm, that would soon cover the bright sky, something was very distant, but undoubtedly approaching.
She wondered what would happen and how long they would have.
The night ended with everyone too merry from drink and dancing, by the time the couple went to bed. As her mother was dead, Galadriel gave the bride her blessing for the night, and all days and nights to come. They went away, with the cheers of the crowd (most of which were so intoxicated they did not even know why they were cheering), and the blessings of their closest friends and family left alive.
Galadriel noticed the absence of the usually-present minstrel Vorondo, one of Estela's companions.
But she also noticed someone who wasn't supposed to be there.
As the couple left, Galadriel froze as she spotted someone talking to Celebrimbor.
A certain someone with hair so fair and bright it gleamed as if it were light itself- it was hard whether to say the hair was golden or silvery. But the skin was fair, and the face was slim and chiselled as if carved by Nerdanel herself. In contrast the eyes were black, but they changed to silver, then to something else- an orange-yellow, like flames, and the pupils darkened and seemingly narrowed into slits.
Annatar was there. And, yes, something by far was not right.
"How is your daughter?" Annatar asked, seemingly serene as he poured Celebrimbor another goblet-full of wine.
"Thriving," he replied happily. He swilled the wine down.
"Yes, I'm sure." Annatar replied. "With a father like you- your skill with metal is extraordinary. And I've heard that you managed to imbue certain properties into metal and gems."
"Yes, the Power-jewels," Celebrimbor replied. "Estela thinks I'm inviting trouble, but we've learnt to store energy in the gems themselves. Higher quality gems, such as diamonds are best, but gems are not always necessary for a piece of jewellery to have power to, say, produce a shield, or hide in the shadow world by turning invisible to the eyes of others. Some jewellery are able to find gems and metals themselves- the dwarves would love that," Celebrimbor laughed. "They've recently asked for my help in forging the doors of Khazad-dûm. We've so much to learn from each other."
He drank his wine again. Annatar's eyes glinted. They glowed orange-golden, but Celebrimbor failed to notice.
"I'm sure," Annatar said smoothly. "You and your cousin are wise to befriend the dwarves. Most elves think themselves too high and mighty to associate with such beings."
Celebrimbor scowled. "Most elves…. They think our family are the disgrace, but they look without kindness upon others. You know some elves hunted a whole clan of dwarves into near-extinction?"
"The petty-dwarves, am I correct? Annatar said smoothly. In all honesty, who cares what they think? In all these centuries, you were the only ones doing the real work, whereas the Wood-Elves hid away, not caring even if Middle-Earth was on the brink of destruction and every other race…" He scowled. "Who was it that stood against Morgoth? You did all the real work."
Celebrimbor drank.
"Who cares and who will protest if you do great works?" Annatar asked. "Those power-jewels… they could just be the beginning. The beginning of more… of something greater."
"Hmmm…" Celebrimbor, son of Curufin, son of Fëanor responded, drinking more from his goblet.
Galadriel watched them with wide eyes, an icy chill filling her everywhere about her person, and daring not to breathe.
But she could not just arrive on the scene and shoo Annatar away. If he truly was a Maia, sent by the Valar… she dared not think of the consequences.
Celeborn was chatting away with some lords of Lothlórien, which she did not bother to identify. Her husband, dressed in white silk with silver lamé patterns and surcoat looked distinguished, but thoroughly pleased, as if he saw nothing out of place. Thranduil and his betrothed stood murmuring to each other. The Woodland Prince was resplendent in a green surcoat embroidered with gold vines and leaves over a darker green tunic with a silver tree. His circlet caught the light as he tossed his head back and laughed carelessly with his beloved by his side. She was radiantly beautiful in emerald-green and silver. He was so carefree, so joyful with her, as if no darkness had ever entered his life, or ever will.
Apart from Galadriel, no one seemed to notice the presence of Annatar.
She turned to look for Elrond and Celebrían but saw they were nowhere to be seen. The last stages of the feast was at hand, despite the absence of the High King and his new wife. Everyone was either too tired, or too drunk to notice anything.
This did not bode well.
Inside their chamber, Estela sat at the vanity, and started plucking out the hair-pins.
"Let me do that," Ereinion said gently, and she smiled, before she removed her hands, and felt him pulling the jewelled pins, one by one, and letting her mane tumble thickly down, the texture of honey, he noted. If honey were copper-coloured. It really did look like burnished copper, touched with spun gold and woven silver. He knew where the silver came from- her Telerin mother. Possibly even her tragic foremother. The gold, he suspected came from her uncle Tyelcormo.
But her hair was rich and soft, so silky and fragrant that he found himself lost in it. He took the brush and began to brush it in long, gentle strokes, easing her scalp, burdened by a long evening of jewels.
She smiled at him.
"Would you like to change?" He asked gently. She nodded. She smiled. She stood and he kissed her, pulling her close.
This felt not only natural, but wonderful and glorious at the same time. She pulled herself to the bathroom, but not before he pulled her close to him again. She smiled, and his eyes softened as he gazed first on her, then on the pendant he gave her.
"I feel as if we must not waste anything, that we make the most of our time." Ereinion smiled, but something clouded in his eyes.
Estela felt a chill. "What do you mean?"
"It means I don't want to lose you, now that I've found you," he said simply. But there was a hidden meaning. Something was coming. And he did not want to waste a single moment with her, neither did he intend to sit idly, and allow anything to happen again.
Estela knew he was right.
Just because she found happiness, the way she never expected to, did not mean all the problems in the world had disappeared.
And as the Queen consort of the High King, her fate was forever tied to those of Middle-Earth.
Celebrimbor guzzled wine yet again. He could hold his drink, even for an elf, but the wine was dulling his senses. Just as Annatar wanted.
Soon the plan will be set, Annatar thought. I will fulfil what was intended…. And the House of Finwë and the Fëanorians most especially, will trouble me no more. Their interference is at an end.
If Gil-Galad thought that in marrying Estela, there would be no troubles, he had absolutely no idea. This was a powerful match, although it was conceived in love. But it was only phase one of the plan. Putting all the eggs in one basket made things easier, even if there were a lot of eggs.
Soon the first phase of the plan would begin. Then Estela and the High King would be dealt with from within.
And after that, came the third phase before the final part of the plan.
Númenor.
But first, they had to deal with the Fëanorians- as well as the whole House of Finwë. Only with them can they truly be defeated.
But without, all Middle-Earth, and eventually Arda, would be theirs for the taking, and Morgoth would be avenged.
But neither he nor anyone else, dark or light knew that fate, by the bidding of the All-Father, would have its say.
Thank Merin Essi ar Quenteli, for the elven wedding customs and the names! I know there was no official engagement ceremony shown, and we went forwards rather quickly all of a sudden, but I didn't want to drag this any longer than it has to, because everything has to move along! Anything really interesting or exciting will come in the next chapters. As Gandalf said in the Return of the King, "It's the deep breath before the plunge."