Chapter Forty-Three
The next year saw the time for attacks.
Estela took Vanimelda with her from Lindon, partly because she could not bear to be parted from her child, and to keep the child safe. She intended to spend as much time with Vanimelda as she could. But the journey to Imladris made her skittish and wary of any surprise attack. She hated open spaces. She hated dark corners and shadows. In fact, she hated everything on the journey.
The arrival could have seen her weep and collapse in relief. Hardly admirable in a shieldmaiden and a queen, no less, but she feared nothing more than to lose this child. Sauron made sure of Eleniel's death, that much she was certain. And with Fëanuldon ripped from her before he was born…
Honestly, could anyone blame her?
Elrond and his twin sons Elladan and Elrohir greeted them. Celebrían stood with Arwen their young daughter. They bowed and curtsied low to the High King.
"Greetings, my lord, my lady and we welcome you gladly to Imladris." Elrond intoned. "Our home and people are honoured by your presence."
"Greetings, Elrond, Mellon-nin," Ereinion responded. He swept down from his horse.
Estela dismounted and helped Vanimelda, carrying her from the carriage where she had ridden in safety, with covered windows.
Everyone else gasped in awe and shock when they beheld the child. Whispers then erupted which were swiftly silenced.
Isildur stared in shock. No one knew Gil-Galad had a daughter, Estela bit her lip when no one saw. And of course they would stare. Vanimelda was a very conspicuous child.
Elrond knelt down to greet the little girl.
"Greetings, Elenñaltë Vanimelda Ereinioniel." He smiled. The girl smiled shyly and beautifully. "Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo."
She blushed sweetly.
She does remind you of stars, Estela thought. So naturally that greeting came to people's minds.
Estela smiled.
The attack will commence shortly, Ereinion communicated silently with Elrond by mind. Are you ready?
Elrond's eyes steeled.
He gave a brief nod and led the king inside.
Estela followed shortly with Vanimelda.
In Lindon, months later…
On the morrow, they would march.
Elves prepared for war. The sound of hammering and sizzling metal and fires blazing echoed from the forges. The horses neighed and whinnied in their impatience to get out, while stable-hands threw extra straw and checked that the supplies for the horses and those riding out on the morrow, were well-stocked. The rushing of attendants and squires, the meticulous checking and re-checking of armour, and careful packing of supplies were all observed. Everyone went about in desperation, for they could not afford to lose.
Estela watched all this from a veranda nearby. It was twilight. And the stars were already out. They didn't have long.
Dressed finally, in the garb of a shieldmaiden which she was happy about, Estela watched the preparations and noticed not the slightest thing until a small figure made her way next to her mother.
Estela looked down and saw in slight surprise.
The child's wide violet eyes were filled with awe, yet were solemn and knowing. "You look like a shieldmaiden." She said softly.
Estela wore a corselet of beautifully-moulded and patterned armour that fitted her form exceedingly well. Her cape billowed from her shoulders, creating a regal, majestic, yet ominous appearance. Her hair was tied back, braided and she had yet to wear her helm, but two graceful swords rested in their sheaths at her hips. Overall, the effect looked deadly- dangerous as the most renowned of blades, but feminine somehow. Perhaps due to the lack of bulkiness and masculine mouldings used for this set of armour. But the colours, golden-bronze and blue, matched those of Gil-Galad's and the rest of the Noldor.
She smiled sadly. "Being a shieldmaiden, by far, means I have to do more than just look the part. Same as being queen. Or anything else. Now I have to prove my worth and mettle in this storm."
"Haven't you already?" The child asked.
"Not in this war." Estela said. "And not to Sauron."
They rode. And out to Amon Sûl they went. Gil-Galad, Círdan and Estela. To meet Elendil, King of Gondor and Arnor, they went.
"Weathertop," Estela said, remembering the fortress with its watch-tower. "Amon Sûl." She turned to her husband. "Do you think that Sauron will attack there?"
"He already knows we march," Ereinion replied. "But no, he is not planning an assault, as we yet know. These lands are too well-defended. He will be occupied in other parts of these realms to worry about this one fortress. No, his attack will not be there."
Estela fell silent. All the years of her fighting, she favoured stealth. Stealth and hidden assaults. In this, Ereinion knew best. But they both knew that it was necessary to think of every possible option for their enemy and for them, when it came to warfare.
"Aiya Meldor!" The shout echoed throughout the open spaces. As was Ereinion's plan, Estela thought. If any scouts and spies were watching, they would carry this to Sauron.
"Hail, Elendil, son of Amandil and King of Gondor and Arnor," Ereinion responded. The elves saluted. The King Elendil and his knights made their way to meet Gil-Galad.
"My lord king, my lady, my lord Círdan." Elendil gave a feral grin. "We march. Shall we teach these evil beasts the danger of messing with us?"
"Aye," Ereinion laughed. "Let us go. We must make haste. But your spirit emboldens and strengthens us."
And off they went.
Out near Imladris, Elrond met them. Glorfindel, who had been sent ahead, was there as well. The host of Imladris joined with the ones led by Gil-Galad, Círdan and Elendil.
They would stay- in order for Sauron to become confused and not know when they would attack and how many would join them, the proper show was necessary. In the meantime, Estela consoled herself with the joy that Vanimelda was already there.
Dressed regally in royal purple embroidered with gold and silver and glittering sequins of the same metal, Estela's eyes narrowed. She was not in the mood to show off. And if she must, why not go as a shieldmaiden- a warrior female? Draping a shawl of lilac gauze over her, Estela summoned a smile for her wide-eyed daughter, looking breathless with awe.
"Amil," she breathed. "You look… you look…"
Estela laughed picked her up, swung her around and gave her a long kiss, making her squeal. She put her down and kissed her several more times, before enveloping her in an embrace.
"I love you, Seldë," she whispered. "I love you, so very, very much."
"I love you too, Amil," she whispers. Estela kneels down and touches the pendant she gave her.
She gazed at it for a long while, then kissed little Vanimelda again.
"Now you be good," she said. "Do as you're told, and go to sleep when it's time for you too. I'll come and see you tonight, and say goodnight, so will your father."
"Yes, Ammë," she said, nodding. Dropping one last kiss on her head, Estela swept out.
Ereinion came in to spend some time with his daughter as she was leaving, but Estela's mind quickly wandered to other things.
Had the other dwarf clans joined them? The Blacklocks and the Stonefoots sent no word. It could either be that they chose to hide away, or have sided with Sauron.
Estela closed her eyes despairingly. The amethyst and silver diadem did not rest easy on her head, even if her other jewels did. So this was what Ereinion felt. And not just him.
Finwë. And Olwë. And even her father brief as it was. And Findekáno. Even as a shieldmaiden concerned about saving others, Estela never felt this way.
She shook her head. She had to get a hold of herself!
"Come now," Ereinion said. A welcome was necessary, they needed to make new alliances- fast.
Estela sighed. "Very well, lead on Aran-nin." He smirked. Normally he would have been annoyed, but she was the annoyed one.
"What and who shall we meet in Elrond's great hall, I wonder," she mused. "And what new ways to battle Sauron shall we devise?"
And so they went off.
The meeting was fraught with arguments.
Nothing was solved.
"Silence!" Ereinion roared. He said something, which no doubt silenced them. Estela wasn't listening.
A pang went through her, as her thoughts went to her son whom she believed was safe in Valinor, but a world away, and he was unlikely to be seen for centuries, or even millennia by her- if ever- and her daughter, who was sleeping safely, blissfully unaware that she was in more danger than Eleniel had been before her death.
So much pain and sorrow. She almost smirked. But this was war. And she would fight to the last…
Unfortunately, she would have to go through a great deal of planning first.
And then there was the spy.
After a long talk, Estela excused herself and went to a store-room- empty, of course.
Imladris had no dungeons. This was a warm and welcoming place, and despite being one of the safest, and well-guarded places in Middle-Earth, elves are not inclined to crime, such as theft, robbery or murder and certainly not rape- elves were not capable of either raping or being raped- but Estela had insisted on bringing a certain someone.
It took all of her willpower not to butcher the man or torture him until he died. But all she needed to do was remind herself what the need for revenge and the blinding rage it brought along with it, did to the ones she loved and her life.
Besides, he would prove useful.
Estela went down, deep down in the cellars.
She jerked her head to the ones standing guard.
They unlocked the door, and Estela, smiling coolly, stepped inside.
Inside, was a chained Belzagar -the one who had poisoned and transfigured, possessing her son and robbing him of a life, before his first breath, and her and her husband of a son, her daughter of a brother.
Smiling icily in a way that was certain to play to everyone's greatest fears, the elven Queen smirked as her icy emerald eyes made contact with Belzagar. He gulped and could not even restrain himself.
She started playing with his mind.
Bending down, she said, "Hello Belzagar." She smiled wider. "Having a nice time?"
"I- you-" he flushed with rage. "You- you chained me- dragged me-"
"And you poisoned my son," the Queen said coolly. "And possessed my unborn boy and gave his soul and mind to Sauron. And it was Sauron who was responsible for the sinking of your island. What do you say now, do you still think Ar-Pharazôn and the King's Men invincible?"
She leaned closer. Her cool fingers stroked their way up his throat and just beneath his chin and jaw. She whispered. "And tell me, Belzagar, why should I not kill you now? Did Sauron save you? Do you think he will save you? And Morgoth- do you think he will keep your soul safe when you die? Tell me, what's to stop me from killing you, right now?"
He swallowed. She leaned even closer. "Nothing," she whispered in a way that would seriously frighten the Dark Lord himself. "Nothing at all."
"So I'll just play around, won't I?" She whispered, pulling her fingers up to stroke and play with his cheek, like a knife. "Yes, I think I shall play."
The music went merrily. People danced and clapped.
Ereinion held Vanimelda, so she could easily see her daughter was safe, despite the gawking and stares produced by her mere presence.
Estela smiled as she beheld her daughter. He danced with her, and she giggled and laughed with joy and delight. It warmed Estela to see her thus.
Estela herself went and Ereinion greeted her with a kiss and the three of them danced and played the night away, their laughter mingling with the rest. Of course there were many who were missing. Many whose absences tore deep and terrible holes within them, including the poor, sweet absent boy, presumed to be in Valinor, and the Ring-maker, his wife and child.
But they would survive. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and for once, she allowed it. Tears of sorrow and pain. Tears of joy and laughter. Tears of endurance and the triumph of survival.
Estela sat down on the bed, after putting her daughter to bed.
Ereinion was beside her and a soft lamp was lit. He was reading through reports and Estela shook and brushed out her long, waving hair. For the first time, she seemed to notice the colour. It was an unbelievably rich, burnished and shiny copper streaked with purest, finest gold and silver. She touched it, fondly. Not really seeing her own hair, but remembering. Always remembering.
Her hair was inherited from her father. Russandol, his kin called him, or copper-top. He always laughed and had always liked the epessë. He even referred it rather jokingly. The gold came from her half-Vanyarin maternal grandmother, who had streaks of her own. Her great-grandmother Istarnië, wife of Mahtan, was also gold-haired, with a strong dose of Vanyarin blood, she suspected. But the silver was her mothers.
She had good memories of her parents. The most wonderful and lovely anyone could ever ask for. And despite all the labels they stuck to her father- that was what she remembered the most- what she would never cease to remember and what she told her children. She would never let the memories slip away into darkness. Never.
She would remember the joy, the good and the light, long before the darkness. And as she touched her hair fondly, and lovingly, she knew she would remember it, even within the Halls of Mandos.
She placed her brush on the nightstand and slid her feet out of her slippers and under the covers. Ereinion smiled at her.
She touched his hand. "I love you." She said. "I'm truly, so sorry it took so long. And I'm so sorry I was such a grouch." He laughed.
He sobered. "I think we have a moment of peace for the time being. He stroked her cheek. "I truly, deeply, unendingly love you- even if I have nothing left and am no longer king."
She smiled and they kissed. "The stars are out." She said. And all she could see were happy memories.
Little Estela raced through the diamond-dust sand of the beach, giggling as she went. The grown elves that saw her, shook their heads and smiled fondly to themselves before going back to work.
She laughed as she tried to catch a tern. She missed, of course, but the tern called playfully as she giggled and jumped, trying to reach it, before finding herself lifted into the air, and shrieking with laughter, realised that it was her father, who kissed her on the cheek. The tern flew away in surprise. She giggled.
"How's my little Estela?" He asked, playfully, kissing her. "Hmmm? What are you doing, little love?"
She giggled. "Playing, Atar. Playing!"
"Ah," he kissed her firmly again. "And what are you playing little dove?"
"Just trying to catch the birdie, Atto, but you scared it away."
He laughed out loud and she grinned, hearing him laugh.
Nearby she heard her mother sigh. "Come now, Maitimo. I sent you to fetch our little one, for lunch. I didn't think you'd simply join her."
He bellowed with laughter. "Coming, my love!"
"Coming, Amil!" Estela called out to her mother.
She rushed over to their picnic lunch, after her father set her down.
She ran to her mother and kissed her, after her mother embraced her tightly.
Estela woke up and went silently to her daughter's room. She kissed the little girl in her sleep. The baby smiled.
"Precious little thing," she cooed sweetly, lovingly.
My baby. She thought. But she had two babies. And one day, she swore, they would meet each other.
One day. And one day, she would see all her loved ones in Valinor. Under the light of the sun, the moon, Laurelin, Telperion or the stars. Come what may this would happen.
But first there was a war to plan. They weren't in Imladris for a holiday.
Estela made her way to the briefing room once dressed.
"-And from there, we shall head north," One of the councillors was talking. "That is what I propose." He looked up and nodded. "My Queen."
Ereinion gave a smile when she entered the room. Estela nodded to everyone present. "Please continue," she said politely.
"I say this is too risky." Another advisor said. "Far too risky. Sauron might not expect us to take that route, but it is longer, more perilous, and with very little places for refuge. We're much too vulnerable."
"Well we cannot go eastwards," the first councillor argued. "It would be very easy for Sauron."
"And there's the fact that we have to cross the plains of Gorgoroth," another elf argued. "If we want to get to Barad-dûr. Not a short distance by far, and to say packed with orcs would be the biggest understatement. And how do we plan to face the Enemy? How would we kill him?"
"The Ring." Estela said all of a sudden. "It's made him vulnerable. It's heightened his powers to an unimaginably vast amount- but it's also his weakness. When Sauron made the Ring, he cut open his finger when the band was upon it, when the gold was still hot. He has placed a part of his fëa within it. This I am sure."
Everyone looked aghast and horrified- sickened even- and the exclamations of denial, shock and horror began. Estela let it continue for a while, before looking to her husband. "Enough!" The High King ordered.
"We need to separate the Ring from Sauron," Estela continued. "And even then it would not be enough. As long as the Ring still lives, so will Sauron. Remember Sauron is no earthly being." She warned. "He is a fallen Maia- so he does not need a physical body as much as he needs his soul. But if that part of his fëa which resides within the Ring, still lives, so will he, and he will rise again, perhaps even more terrible than before. We need to destroy it, and not by ordinary means."
Everyone looked to her. No one thought to question her.
"The Ring was made in the fires of Orodruin. It's the only place where it can be destroyed." She looked to Elrond for support. He nodded this confirmation.
There was a long silence. Finally Ereinion breathed out a sigh.
"What you say isn't easy, Estela. Even if we get past the Black Gates and into Mordor, past the plains of Gorgoroth, and through mass armies of orcs, trolls and other foul creatures, and somehow- by chance or by his decision- come across Sauron, it will not be easy to cut the Ring from his finger." He smiled bitterly. "He is, after all, the new Dark Lord."
"And if we somehow manage to do the impossible…" He shook his head.
Estela narrowed her eyes. "It is the only way. The Ring is the source of Sauron's power and life. To separate him from it, would be to destroy his physical form and power. To destroy it would be to destroy him permanently."
They all looked at her. Ereinion-Gil-Galad, the councillors and advisors, the military commanders and captains, the knights and squires of the humans, Elendil and his sons.
"It must be done," Elrond said firmly. "It is the only way." He repeated Estela's words.
Ereinion looked at Elendil. The two, after exchanging an unspoken message, seemed to agree on something. Ereinion grimaced and Elendil nodded.
"Very well, then I agree," he turned to King Elendil. "I also," Elendil seconded.
Estela turned to Elrond. "Very well, then. It is done." Elrond nodded.
Just as the others left, Ereinion took hold of her arm. "Just a minute," he said. "How did you know about the Ring hosting a part of Sauron's soul?"
Estela tilted her head. "I brought along a prisoner. And I went into his mind, like I did last time." Ereinion looked bewildered.
"What do you mean- who-" he then stopped dead. "Belzagar?" He asked, naming the man who had poisoned their son before birth.
"The very same," Estela said. "It appears Sauron has been planning this for a while, now."
Ereinion went silent again, to aghast to absorb this information. "Schemes within schemes," he whispered. "You mentioned… cutting open his finger," he said hoarsely. "Letting his soul… Was that not how he dealt with our son? Giving his blood and… a part of his soul?" Ereinion choked out disbelieving and anguished, uncharacteristic of him.
Estela said nothing.
"Now in Lindalambë," Estela said to her daughter.
Vanimelda smiled. "Ēl sīla lūmena vomentienguo!" She said. If only her maternal grandmother could be here, Estela thought wistfully, as she and her daughter carried on their conversation in Lindalambë, the language of the Telerin of Valinor.
"It sounds similar to Sindarin, does it not?" Estela asked. Vanimelda nodded. "Why is that?"
"Because Lindalambë and Sindarin both sprung from Common Telerin," Vanimelda said solemnly. "They have the same mother-language, but as both groups separated- one group leaving and set sail for Valinor, and the other remaining in the woods of Middle-Earth- so their vocabulary expanded as they invented new words and phrases for anything or anyone new they encountered, or even for the things and people they have already seen. The accents also start to change and develop new traits over time, and isolation from one another. Human languages work that way too- but elves not so much, because we are immortal, and as such find it hard to adjust to change." Estela said. Vanimelda drunk in every word.
"Does Lindalambë sound slightly closer to Quenya, than it does Sindarin?" She asked. Vanimelda nodded. "In Quenya we say, 'Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo.' In Lindalambë we say, 'Ēl sīla lūmena vomentienguo.' But in Sindarin it is 'Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn.' Sindarin also has similarities with the Avarin tongues- as the two of them, despite being entirely separate, also interacted occasionally- not too often though- the Avari do not like outsiders." Estela said. "They do not trust them. But you can easily tell, can't you? The wine, which you saw others drinking during the feast, comes from Dorwinion- an Avarin land. The name obviously had similarities with Sindarin- and Westron, the tongue of humans," Estela smiled down at her little girl who was absorbing all this like a sponge. "But my mother-name- Estela- is Lindalambë. Do you know what it means?" She asked her daughter.
Vanimelda's brow crinkled, thinking. "Hope?" She said. "It does sound like 'estel' which is Sindarin." "It does," Estela said. "And yet you observed in the greeting, 'Ēl sīla lūmena vomentienguo' that they added an 'A' sound at the end of the word 'lūmena', which in the Vanyarin and Noldorin Quenya is simply 'lumenn''. Thus my name, Estela. In Quenya, my name would be Amátirë." Estela smiled. "You're doing very well, Melda."
Melda smiled happily. Estela laughed. "I think we've practiced enough." Her mother said.
Melda pouted. "But Ammë, we're not finished yet!" She protested. Estela laughed. "Play, Melda. I heard Arwen at least needs help with her Quenya lessons. Perhaps you can introduce her to a bit of Lindalambë. I'm sure she would appreciate that." Melda nodded.
"Off you go," she gently nudged her daughter.
"She's unbelievably intelligent," a voice breathed behind her. Estela turned to see Isildur.
Estela smiled. "Yes. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have sent her off- I can call her back and have her say her proper greetings to you." She said apologetically.
Isildur's eyes widened. 'No, it's alright! Children should play at every chance they get." They both chuckled. "It's good that you use the outdoors instead of trapping her indoors with heavy volumes to memorise."
"Better for her to learn, if she is eager and interested," Estela said. "And the fresh air and open spaces is refreshing and healthy for her thought, than stuffy, cluttered classrooms."
Isildur smiled. "You never mentioned you had a daughter."
"No," Estela sighed. "I apologize for that. But if anyone so much as eavesdropped- only here in Imladris can I feel that she is safe." Isildur looked grim.
"I understand." He said. He leaned closer. "I saw many people gawking and doing whatever they can to take a good stare at her." His voice grew grim. "I've restrained them as much as I can, but an elven child- particularly the child of the High King- is an insatiable source of interest to others."
Estela too, grew grim. "I understand." She sighed. "But we cannot afford mistrust now, can we?"
"No." Isildur said. He paused. "What you said about Sauron and the One Ring," he began. "Sauron…" he couldn't find the words to express what he was saying.
"Is beyond anything you imagine," Estela said grimly. "But even if you cannot imagine it, your children will still have to live- or likely perish if he gets his way- under his power, unless we stop him."
"That is no easy task," Isildur ran a hand through his hair. He looked uncertain and fearful. "If that does happen, and we manage to separate him from his Ring, will the Ring do anything- if it does contain a piece of Sauron's soul and power… will it..." He could not finish.
Estela hesitated. "I do not know," she said regrettably. "But my advice would be to proceed as fast as one can towards Mount Doom, and to throw the Ring in the lava without even a second thought- without making eye contact at the thing."
"As quickly as possible, then." Isildur said.
"As quickly as possible," Estela agreed.
Well, I tried! Yes, I know people have been moaning on about the drama and the attitude- and I'm sorry! But wouldn't she be nothing less than a perfect Mary Sue is she was too confident, and didn't make you want to shake her?
In any case, during the War of the Last Alliance- in the first phase after the Last Alliance was formed, they spent three years in Rivendell, agreeing on tactics and strategies, and forging weapons, acquiring whatever supplies they had.
Not too much drama here! But I can't promise you it will last forever- cause something has to happen! Didn't see Glorfindel in this chapter, or much of anything, including the dreams about Celebrimbor, but the action's about to start sooner or later.