"We thought – at least Olwë and Arafinwë thought – that Eärendil and Elwing needed to meet their son first. They will be arriving shortly." Finrod had told her. It took but one look at Elwing to convince Galadriel of this wisdom as she watched the golden glow pass from Elwing the White into Elrond's form. Galadriel closed her eyes and concentrated on her daughter. Though she could not spare any healing strength to aid Elrond, she could revel in her daughter's spirit's robust, healthy, and recovered song. Eärwen monitored the scene carefully, as did Finrod.
Elwing's eyes were wet with tears of joy. Her son's spirit had recognized her and must have reached for their bond. But perspiration yet beaded on Elrond's creased brow. Celebrian sought to calm the confusion in her spouse's drug-clouded thoughts. She felt the all too familiar chill of the black breath. Part of his mind latched on to their prior conversation about the treacherous blue wizard. Memory sparked. She felt him stiffen at the images these words evoked. The memories were choking. She tried not to cry out at the image of her beloved lying prone at the feet the Istar whose threatening eyes left no doubt as to his intentions for the thick silver needle. Elrond glanced at his wrists, which bled sluggishly over the heavy twine that secured them to stakes. Celebrian felt Elwing's wordless cry. Of course, her healer Mother-in-law could also sense the black breath.
"Elrond, Meleth-nin, leave the past behind."Celebrian ignored the shocked gasps from the others in the room. "Meleth, we are together in Alqualondë. Your parents are here. Can you not feel your Naneth's loving spirit? They only wish for your health and happiness." She felt Elwing's spirit swell at these simple words. Could her Mother-in-law also need love and encouragement?
"It was our discussion that spurred these memories. His spirit senses us on some level, although he does not yet have the strength to wake." Celebrian explained in anguish. She reached out for his spirit, bending her thoughts to his dreams and gifting him a new image. "Perhaps we could again be Tinumán and Undómiel, a wandering elven couple exploring these new lands." If her husband was not in such distress, she might have laughed at the shocked look of those gathered even as she rejoiced as she felt Elrond's spirit struggle and finally break free from the darkness. She gently maneuvered herself from sitting to lying next to him. Her head rested near his shoulder, and her arm was carefully positioned below his bandage. Then she closed her eyes and shut out all but her beloved's spirit, mingling with the ragged bands of his mixed heritage. The combined love of her Naneth and Uncle poured into her and helped strengthen her resolve. Elwing's lullaby wove a protective layer around the couple's shared dream path.
Once she was sure that her granddaughter and her spouse were in healing sleep, Eärwen motioned to her son and to Eärendil. A silent glance between Eärwen and Elwing was all that was necessary to convey their thoughts. Elwing would stay and watch over the precious couple, while Eärwen would guide her own daughter to rest. Indeed, Galadriel startled as her Mother pulled her from the seat.
"I should stay," Galadriel began wearily.
"Nay, dear heart, you too must rest." Eärwen deftly guided her from the bedroom to the sitting room, where Eärendil and Finrod were already speaking to newcomers. Eärwen nodded to her husband, who was at his daughter's side an instant later.
"Come sit, dear heart," Arafinwë's voice was hypnotic, and to his amusement, all those present took seats either at the table or on the settee.
"You have not lost your touch." Eärwen's voice echoed in his mind, amused.
"Only with small children or those weary from their journey," Arafinwë answered silently.
"Gil-Galad, pour a restorative." Arafinwë directed. His daughter's eyes widened as she turned to her nephew. Although technically Gil-Galad was her great-nephew, Arafinwë knew that for much of an age, both had little family in Middle Earth, and they had grown very close.
"Ereinion—I heard, but," Galadriel gasped and shuddered. Her eyes turned glassy as she froze without drawing another breath. Gil-Galad bent and placed his hands on her cheeks, staring resolutely into her eyes. His wife, Indiriel, stepped up and placed her hands on Galadriel's shoulders. As leaders of Tol Eressëa, they had seen many arrive who suffered from the black breath and had learned well what needed to be done.
"Leave these dark dreams behind." Gil-Galad seemed to grow in stature as his words rang with authority. "The darkness has no claim on you. Come with me into the light." Galadriel drew a gasping breath, but each one afterward was less strained. Gil-Galad glanced quickly at the Noldoran. An uptick of Arafinwë's brow indicated they would discuss this incident privately afterward. Gil-Galad nodded his head slightly at the wordless summons. Galadriel's movement caught his attention. Her exquisite fingers reached up to cover Gil-Galad's even as her other hand moved to grasp Indiriel's.
"Ereinion…. Indiriel," she whispered softly. Tears flowed down her porcelain cheeks.
"Ah, dear Aunt, you have spent too much of yourself in the far lands." Gil-Galad bent and kissed her brow. "Recovery will take time."
"But perhaps we have a surprise for you." Indiriel's lips curved upwards as her lilting voice teased. Gil-Galad's Queen had been with him just five hundred years before death parted them. Galadriel looked upon her sweet face with joy.
"So long … I prayed you had been reborn and were happy here."
"Imagine my joy to meet your and Celeborn's much wished-for daughter. Now, imagine our joy that you can meet our daughter." She moved aside to reveal a silver-haired Elfling, who could be no more than ten years of the sun. "Gilwen, beloved, meet your Adar's great Aunt Galadriel." The little one smiled shyly and clung to her Nana's leg. Galadriel squeezed Indiriel's hand tightly like a lifeline. Eärwen pushed a chair forward so Indiriel could sit next to Galadriel. She swept her daughter into her arms as she glided gracefully into the chair.
"Aunt Galadriel?" The Elfling repeated in wonder as she stroked the white ball of fur in her arms. "The Lady of Light?" Galadriel ghosted her hand across the child's head in stunned awe.
"What stories have you been telling your daughter?" Galadriel raised an elegant brow. Indiriel laughed as Gil-Galad replied.
"My daughter loves tales of adventure," the former King from Lindon shrugged nonchalantly. Besides, the refuges bring many tales to Tol Eressëa of their beloved Lady of Light. Once you are well, you must visit us often."
"And who is this?" Galadriel extended her hand to greet the kitten, which Gilwen happily held.
"This is one of Catty's kittens. I helped care for the kittens. Ada thinks she will be a perfect friend for Uncle Elrond. When can I meet him?" Galadriel raised a brow as the child declared this. The little one stopped talking long enough to take a breath and then pointed to the pattern of copper dots near the white kitten's neck. "See her necklace. I named her Russigil."
"This precocious child is definitely yours," Galadriel whispered softly. Gil-Galad laughed and swept his precious daughter up into his arms.
Xxxxxxx Later that day xxxxxxX
Dinner was a quiet affair, considering how many of them were gathered. Afterward, Gil-Galad motioned to Arafinwë, who had explicitly requested a private meeting. The intriguing hobbit, Bilbo, while elderly, became unusually animated after the evening meal and was currently entertaining the others, although his nephew, Frodo, was absent.
"I believe we can slip away for a few moments," Gil-Galad said as they made their way towards the hall.
"Not quite alone." Observed Arafinwë.
"What? Am I not wanted, Adar?" Finrod gave an exaggerated show of indignation. His father smiled and shook his head as the three proceeded to the Shell room. Although initially a children's playroom, the Shell room had long since been outfitted as a place for relaxation. Comfortable chairs and gaming tables were in front of a long open veranda facing the ocean. Arafinwë stood momentarily contemplating the rising of bright Ithil before turning to Gil-Galad.
"How are things in Tol Eressëa? Were there any problems thus far in absorbing this last flux of immigrants?" Arafinwë and Finrod often visited the island. The capital city was a bustling metropolitan teeming with elves from all backgrounds. Indeed, many of the reborn were drawn there, for they felt more comfortable among its diverse population. Still, conflicts and crime sometimes broke the peace. Gil-Galad and Indiriel were adept at diffusing volatile situations.
"We are still in the initial period of happy reunions." Gil-Galad paused, "although many require healing. Overcrowding and shortages are persistent. But no one is complaining yet, for many are celebrating the arrival of loved ones."
"But nothing that you can not handle." Finrod's comment was something in between a statement and a question.
"Each group of immigrants complains that their needs and interests are not represented, resulting in an undercurrent of animosity." Gil-Galad paused as if mulling something over. "Hostility only comes out into the open when the issue of clearing more land arises. Tol Eressëa is a finite island. We need to plan better for use of public lands, and it may come that some private lands will need to be acquired for the good of all."
"I assume that will not be popular."
"Not in the least."
"Can we encourage repatriation to Aman?" Arafinwë suggested.
"But you must be careful not to seem to favor one group over the others." Finrod pointed out.
"The Imladhrim favor a rule by a council where members are chosen based to represent the population and include specific seats for the minority groups."
"Celebrian was surprised that we did not guarantee representation for our ethnic minorities in Tirion." Arafinwë smiled at the memory. "We, in turn, were surprised to hear that Dúnedain sat on the council in Imladris."
"Imladris was much smaller than Tol Eressëa is now. Their way of rotating representatives so that no single elf or man or woman, for that matter, sat on the council indefinitely seems somehow unstable to me. I can not fathom how such a system would work on a large scale."
"I confer with a council." Arafinwë pointed out.
"But laws and rules ultimately are your decision."
"Yet, by all accounts, Imladris was a model of stability in a tumultuous age." Finrod smiled. "You might find out more and see if some of their ideas might be helpful or altered to placate the situation on the island." Gil-Galad nodded thoughtfully. Silence stretched for a few minutes before Arafinwë voiced his primary concern.
"What shocked you when you saw my daughter this afternoon? It was not only the black breath that you sensed." Arafinwë's expression was inscrutable. Finrod watched them dispassionately, almost clinically, like the healer he was. "You see many arrivals who have suffered from the black breath. You even experienced it yourself."
"You were expecting the ring bearers to all suffer from it." Finrod's voice was soft. "We all did." Gil-Galad moved to the bar and poured himself a cordial. He offered one to Arafinwë, but the Noldoran declined. Gil-Galad took a sip.
"It is hard to explain." He began. "For a long time, Galadriel was my closest kin." He paused and took another sip. "She helped and taught me much in those early days on Balar. I began to recognize her approach – to hear the song of her spirit long before she entered a room."
"Her spirit is injured, damaged," Finrod said with certainty.
"Not only that." Gil-Galad paused. "If I had not seen her with my own eyes, I would not have recognized her spirit as it is. It has changed so much as to be unrecognizable. Did you?" he waved his hand as if to erase that thought. When she arrived, did you sense how altered her spirit was?"
"We all grow and change with time." Arafinwë walked over to the bar and poured a cordial for himself and his son. "It is in our nature to learn and progress."
"But this is different." Gil-Galad knew with certainty. "I feel something similar with Elrond as well. Is it due to the rings? I only possessed them a short time." Gil-Galad studied Finrod and Arafinwë, then rose at their continued silence and crossed the room. He looked out at the ocean before turning and addressing them once more. "You know this. I am not telling you something you have not already guessed.
"Yes, we sense the change as well." Finrod stood. "But it is subtle, and we have not seen my sister in two ages."
"It is not subtle." Gil-Galad bristled.
"Maybe from your perspective." Arafinwë swirled the liquid in his glass. "She stepped off the ship in great need of our help. We gave and are giving all the aid we can. But whether I may or may not have noticed the changes is moot, for Celeborn talked of his fears in a letter to us. He told of the subtle shifts in her spirit over the years of wielding Nenya. As her spouse, he could feel the pull and the slow transformation of her fëa. But the real injuries came in the last few years when she helped to throw down Dol Guldur and, surprisingly, when she left Lothlórien for the final time." Arafinwë took a sip.
"What did Celebrimbor craft?" Gil-Galad shook his head.
"The rings were borne far longer than he foresaw." Finrod hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I sense that even the Valar were surprised by the power imbued in the three. As for Galadriel and Elrond, reestablishing the bonds of family is helping to begin the healing process. But to truly heal, we may need to take them to Lórien. Even there, the question of what comes after healing will remain. They are both changed – as is Olórin, even if we understand little of the Maia. I do not think the songs of their spirits will revert to what they were before."
"We are not static beings." Arafinwe reminded them. "We all grow, develop, and change. It is important that we do so."
"And the little hobbits? We have taken them from their kin." Gil-Galad worried.
"That was their choice. I predict they will find healing in Lórien." Finrod raised his glass. The three of them toasted to the future – with all its joys and challenges. Voices and laughter sounded in the hall as the hobbit, Olwë, and the rest of the family approached.
Xxxxxxx Several Days later xxxxxxxX
"Why is he not waking? The surgery was successful?" Indiriel whispered to her husband. They kept a vigil over Elrond as Eärwen had strategically arranged for Gilwen to coax Celebrian outside for a short walk. Gil-Galad's daughter was a joyful, inquisitive force of nature.
"He responds in spirit. But his spirit is injured and not in tune with itself or his hröa." Gil-Galad smiled sadly as he gently grasped Elrond's hand. "As Celebrian observed, I sometimes feel part of his spirit surrounding us and rejoicing at our presence. But I also sense confusion and pain. The black breath still has some hold."
"Was there not an incident on the ship where remnants of Sauron's fëa moved to attack the ring bearer?" Indiriel's question was rhetorical, serving only to remind him.
"You think trying to reconnect will trigger memories of the last time he saw you." Indiriel squeezed her husband's hand, knowing full well what his last moments in Middle Earth had been like.
"He was close enough to witness everything yet too far to intervene." Gil-Galad pushed the errant dark strand away from Elrond's face. Elwing, among others, noted that Elrond managed a few words thus far and only when someone directed their full attention towards him. Surgery to repair his heart had further damaged his fëa.
"Your last time together was indeed horrific, but you had over an age together. You can focus on a different time and push those later images away."
"Finrod commented that was not dissimilar to those newly re-embodied. My recollections of those early days are vague apart from the Maiar who offered encouragement and hope." Finrod was more skilled at healing but did not have a strong connection to Elrond as they did. Gil-Galad and Indiriel had cared for Elrond after he had left Himring.
"Mine are similar." Gil-Galad smiled at his wife in thanks, an idea already forming in his head. He turned his thoughts inward, seeking the remnants of the bonds of kinship that he had nurtured with Elrond from the end of the first age until his own death in Mordor.
"Elrond, mellon-nin, Indiriel, and I are waiting for you to awake. We rejoice in your arrival." Gil-Galad called. He was surprised when the connection drew him away into a vortex of shadow. Was this what was left of Elrond's consciousness? It was as if he was floating on gray clouds. He heard the wind whistle forlorn without a discernible melody.
"Tinuman! Tinuman! Shall we continue our bet? It is too bad Glorfindel did not accompany you West. For it was ever amusing that he did not detect our deception." Gil-Galad called out. The scene around him wavered and shook, morphing from nondescript clouds into the landscape of Mordor. Elrond had recognized him, and in response, his mind brought forth their last moment together. Gil-Galad had to catch himself from coughing in the foul air. Sauron laughed and turned towards the High King. The air around the ring crackled and glowed with a sickeningly blood-red aura. Gil-Galad looked away. He did not need to see what would happen next. He had been there. He looked at the tall, imposing Peredhel brandish Hadhafang to the detriment of another foe.
"No! Ereinion!" Elrond desperately cried and, in the next instant, threw his dagger with all his might towards the dark figure. Elrond impaled his sword through the next foe and continued in his desperate attempt to move forward.
"It is not real. Elrond! This dream, this memory, is from the past. " Gil-Galad shuddered and closed his eyes, shutting out the smoking remnants. Gil-Galad started singing the hymn to Elbereth. As his voice grew stronger, the landscape shimmered, brightening and giving way to the beach by Mithlond. Waves sang on the shores in the distance. But the essences that swirl about him were locked in an eternal battle.
"I have known you for far too long not to know these are the components of your being." Gil-Galad recognized the rushing spirit of the Edain that strained to solve and forge urgently. There was also the song of his elven nature, measured, wise, and in tune with nature. The dazzling and dangerous light of the Maia blazed and wavered in a dichotomy of duty and the acts of creation. "Yet, this last one burns brighter than before. Did coming to these lands foster that ancient shred of the Ainur that burns inside you? Or conversely, did the long years cause the slow demise of the other two? Where is the overarching melody of your song that cemented these parts into a coherent alliance into your fëa? Nearly four thousand years were we friends. I can only delve into memory and try to voice what I remember into a song." Gil-Galad focused on the song as he remembered it.
"Elrond, mellon-nin, look into your fëa and feel our connection." He felt the presence of another, at least one, maybe more, although no one appeared. As he focused on the nearby presence, he noted the songs – disparate and pained, straining to survive. "Mellon-nin, I can feel you fighting to survive to heal. Let me help you. By the grace of the Valar, I have been reborn." He held out his hand as he concentrated on Elrond's song. The air next to him shimmered as the components swirled together and took shape. Elrond's exquisite silver eyes were wet with tears.
"Ereinion," was all he whispered mind-to-mind. Gil-Galad reached out to him, surprised that there was substance to the shapes in this mindscape plane of existence.
"Yes, it is, I, dear one. Indiriel and I are alive and well. We will see you back to health." Gil-Galad sent out his thoughts, focusing on the binding song of Elrond's spirit. He fought to keep these rushing melodies together. For already, it seemed as if the three were unraveling again. The music he remembered had evolved as Elrond weathered the ages and wielded Vilya. "Mellon-nin, rest and recover but do not take too long. Know that you are still needed to forge a peaceful future in these lands. There is work yet to be accomplished. Duty lies ahead, but also a life of love with your dear Celebrian and more. Will you be the student again to learn the lore of these lands and the scholar to teach on the lands you left behind? There are new realms here to explore and to keep you busy for ages." Elrond's form shimmered but then grew stronger as another being appeared by his side.
"Lady Melian," Gil-Galad recognized the Maia from his time in Lórien. He also saw Elrond grimace and close his eyes.
"Your presence somehow hurts him." Gil-Galad sensed a burning sensation.
"Yes, I do not understand why that should happen." With a wave of her hand, the world before him vanished. Gil-Galad again found himself sitting at Elrond's bedside. He was clutching the Peredhel's hand. Melian stood tracing a finger along Elrond's brow.
"You healed him in Hovaspind in the first age."
"Yes, I healed his head injury. But that was before the major battles between our Ainur and those of Morgoth."
"Both Peredhil were injured by the battle fury of the Ainur. But Elrond's spirit was later injured by the dangerous task I set him to in the last Alliance." Gil-Galad mused. "Were these injuries further aggravated by Vilya?"
"There are things which even we do not know. What I can say for certain is that the presence of other Maiar is a double-edged sword for him – bringing both comfort and pain and perhaps strengthening only part of his spirit, thus hindering his recovery. I will speak with my Lord Irmo. It may be that some of these wounds will only heal in Lórien."
"The song of his spirit is altered and its balance disturbed. When he was but a youth, his Maia heritage blossomed. He struggled to integrate and unite his Maia song within his spirit." Gil-Galad's observation led Melian to turn her full gaze towards him. The light of the stars shone in her eyes. "His spirit can not survive until it finds a new balance."
"You are correct. His spirit is in flux, each part battling to establish a balance – if a fluxional one, which can sustain him."
"He will not heal until then."
"Yes, the process will not be easy. Perhaps, as you witnessed before, he will need to be protected from the influence of other Maiar and from being overwhelmed by too many others." Melian paused, her eyes full of sympathy as she read the depth of Gil-Galad's concern. "Do not despair, Gil-Galad. I sense healing here - healing augmented by the love of family and friends. You have done well, child." He felt her hand ghost his face, and she was gone in a gust of wind.
Xxxxxxxx Several days later xxxxxxX
She felt him shiver and saw a grimace mar his handsome face. After the healers had taken out the sutures, he had succumbed to sleep. They thought it best to leave the wound open to the air for a while, but he was cold.
"Elrond, beloved, awaken." She gently stroked his cheek and kissed his brow. "Meleth-nin, leave those dark dreams behind." She smiled as his silver eyes brightened, although she sensed confusion in his thoughts.
"Elrond, are you in pain? Do you want a sip of willow-bark tea?" She caught his hand before he could touch his chest. "The healers removed the stitches this morning. Do you remember?" Elrond nodded.
"Celebrian," he whispered as he caressed her hand. His gaze was full of love. She ran her hands lovingly through his hair.
"The first successful heart operation. Who would have guessed?" Celebrian ghosted her hand over the scar as she prayed to Iluvatar that he still lived. Then she reached for the salve, carefully spreading it over the site of the incision and covering it with a light bandage. It would take time, but the scar would fade and disappear.
"I am shocked that such a thing could be done," Elrond spoke mind-to-mind, for it was much less taxing for him. Still, she was concerned that he said so little.
"Maybe you will need to return and be a student again." She teased him as she helped him sit up. "I did marry a Lore Master. Perhaps you will need to renew your credentials." She eased a silk undershirt over his head, then helped to guide his arms into the rich blue tunic that was lovingly embroidered with the silver emblems of Imladris. She buttoned the tunic up and then kissed him again. "You look more like the handsome elf I wed now." He smoothed the hair away from his eyes, then ruefully admitted.
"Perhaps you are a bit mistaken. I think I am missing at least thirty pounds." He looked down at his sleep pants in amusement.
"No one will notice." Her laughter rang like melodious bells. They both knew that was absurd. Gil-Galad would notice. "Are you feeling up to walking out to the sitting room? Ereinion and his family are coming soon." She guided him to the table. He was winded by the simple exertion. Orange clementines and red grapes cheerfully adorned the side of a plate filled with cheeses and sweetmeats. He did not reach for refreshment, instead closing his eyes and breathing heavily. She could feel his spirit waver. She began to brush and braid his hair, humming a melody while she worked. She felt him relax slightly under her touch, but he did not open his eyes. A knock sounded at the door, but it opened before she could respond.
"Ereinion, come in," Celebrian said softly, amused that the former King had not changed in some ways. Elrond did not look up, though he trembled under her touch. Ereinion Gil-Galad entered with his wife Indiriel and their daughter Gilwen.
"Nana, he is awake! Finally!" The little one declared.
"Do not cry, Uncle Elrond. I brought you a kitten." Gilwen bounced over. Her Naneth caught her before she could jump on her 'Uncle.' It was easier for the little one to label close family as aunts and uncles. "Her name is Russigil." She thrust the kitten into Elrond's lap as Indiriel brushed the tears from his eyes. The kitten hid in the folds of Elrond's tunic, obviously happy to escape Gilwen's care.
"It is wonderful to see you, dear heart." Indiriel kissed him.
"Ada says you will play on the beach with me. He says you do not mind having your feet buried in the sand." Gilwen chattered on. Elrond looked abruptly up at Ereinion, who smiled slyly and whispered.
"Payback," Gil-Galad whispered, then spoke more audibly. "Did I tell you how Elrond and Elros?"
"Buried you up to your chin!" Gilwen shrieked in excitement. Even Gil-Galad grimaced. Indiriel swept her daughter up in her arms.
"Come, Sweetie, Falmatar will take us to the shell cottage." She laughed at her daughter's look of glee and waved goodbye. In the silence that followed Gilwen's exit, Gil-Galad began to sing softly but then stronger as Celebrian joined in the winter song of renewal. They were heartened as they felt Elrond's spirit calm. Gil-Galad smiled smugly as the Peredhel stroked the white kitten's fur. The kitten purred softly in contentment. Healing might be slow, but they had time in abundance.