Part Fourteen
Galadriel wondered if sending for Amroth had been a wise idea. She was beginning to
worry that the others might team up and ambush him. Elrond's frown grew deeper with
every passing moment. Erestor would stand behind Elrond no matter what he said. Elrond
was generally very level-headed, but in this matter Galadriel did not trust him. She knew
how deeply he had loved Nimrodel. She had known it even when she had given him her
only child.
Sometimes, in her most wistful moments, she wondered if that had been a mistake. If it
was, it was her burden to live with. She missed Celebrían more deeply than she could
express. Yet, when she looked at Arwen and her grandsons, Elladan and Elrohir, there
were no regrets. They were glorious and strong, and their hands they would shape the
future of Arda.
Celeborn's jealousy of the lost king of Lórien had entirely to do with her, and she could
see it bubbling below his surface like lava. It made her sad, as Amroth's presence stopped
Celeborn not from pursuing other lovers. She knew he had accosted Orophin the night
before. She could feel anger pulsing in Haldir when she looked at him, when his gaze
swept over her lord.
Thranduil and Celeborn had always been as thick as thieves and the King of Mirkwood
was likely to support her lord. Thranduil was jovial and generally pleasant, but he could be
mean when he desired. It had been wiser to invite him than to leave him out and face his
wrath later. He was less forgiving than Elrond. Galadriel wondered at Thranduil's
attraction to Celeborn, which pulsed inside him like a living force. It did not bother her,
for some reason.
Celeborn's returned interest in Thranduil had no intensity, despite his enthusiastic
reception of the king of Mirkwood's friendship and attentions. Galadriel knew that her lord
preferred conquest. He liked to seduce those who would not have ordinarily turned their
heads in his direction. He and Thranduil were equals, so while he enjoyed the other elf's
attentions, they held no thrill for him. Galadriel could find no jealousy for herself in that.
There were times when she had wished Celeborn would take himself off to Mirkwood and
stay there. There were other times when she wished he would pursue her once more with
the intensity that he reserved for those who deserved it not, like Haldir's brother Orophin.
Haldir she might have dismissed, but she allowed him to stay because she trusted him
above all others in this room -- at least right now. Despite the fact that he had his own
reasons for distrusting Amroth, namely Orophin's attraction to the lost king, Galadriel
knew she could rely upon him. He had an innate sense of duty few others ever possessed,
which was why she had made him Marchwarden.
Perhaps she ought to have allowed Legolas and Arwen to be present as well, she mused.
This matter sprang from before their time and did not concern them, but they were the
future of Elvenkind. Galadriel had hoped, when Arwen was born, that one day she might
see them wed. Now she knew that would never be -- not from their animosity towards
each other, which was quite unfounded in her opinion and possibly easily dispelled, but
because of the darkness she saw on the horizon.
It would be decades in coming, but it was there on the wind. She saw it every time she
looked into her mirror. Arwen and Legolas had much more danger in their futures than
what they might provide to each other. Perhaps this might be changed, somehow, but
Galadriel held out little hope that life as they all knew it could go on as it was now
infinitely. None of the others understood this. How could they?
She had spoken of her visions to Haldir in stressing the importance of guarding the
northern borders to him. He had not forgotten her words. He kept them close to his heart.
They had stolen some of his youth and levity, she thought. This saddened her, but it was
for the best. He would be a great warrior in his time.
Galadriel forced herself to concentrate on the present. The future would wait. She had the
fate of Amroth to deal with now. It was going to require all of her attention. They would
have a small amount of time before he arrived, she thought. Rúmil was not likely to find
Amroth promptly.
"You have both come for the same reason," Galadriel addressed Elrond and Thranduil,
putting one hand on each of their arms. "You wish to lay eyes on the lost king. He is here,
indeed, as you well know."
"Why did you revive him?" Elrond asked quietly.
"Should any elf be left to the suffering he faced?" Galadriel replied. "He was a prisoner of
the waters."
"But why now?" Thranduil asked, raising a curious eyebrow. "Why not centuries ago,
when he first disappeared?"
"It is for the best that he was not revived the moment he disappeared," Celeborn said
darkly. "Else he would still rule Lórien today."
"He wanted Lórien no more," Elrond countered. "He was done with it. He gave it to
Galadriel."
"And to me!"
Elrond bowed his head slightly. "And to you. He gave it up for love of Nimrodel."
"I am glad that you understand this, Elrond," Galadriel said lightly.
"Perhaps he will want it back now," Thranduil suggested. "After all, Nimrodel is gone."
Pain flashed through Elrond's eyes. His frown grew deeper, if that were possible. Galadriel
saw his hand tighten into a fist. Erestor took a step closer to him. Neither the advisor nor
Haldir spoke, knowing that it was not their place unless they were addressed.
"Amroth lives. May she not also?" he asked Thranduil politely.
"I suppose anything is possible. But were I you, Celeborn, I would still be on my guard."
"Doubt not that I am," Celeborn replied.
His pale eyes grew dark and his expression flat. His gaze met Galadriel's and her heart tore
as she knew he was looking at her like a possession. He knew that the power of Lórien
was hers, and that if she wanted, she could indeed replace him with Amroth. She only
wished that he would believe that no power in Arda would ever cause her to replace him.
She loved Celeborn, despite it all. She loved him. Had all the others not been present, she
would have told him so in that moment.
"Amroth poses no threat," she said calmly. "Not to any of us."
"Then what is his purpose?" Thranduil asked.
"His purpose is to find Nimrodel," Elrond insisted.
"So is yours, it seems," Thranduil said, smiling slightly at Elrond.
"And forget not that my daughter is your wife," Celeborn added, an edge in his voice.
"Ah, but she is in Aman now, is she not?" Thranduil said, elbowing Celeborn lightly in the
ribs. "Surely you cannot expect Elrond to lie in a cold bed forever. It is no great secret
that he has always loved Nimrodel."
"You do not understand what you speak of, Thranduil," Elrond said. He looked even more
angry now, Galadriel thought.
"Peace," she said in a commanding tone. "Do you all forget that we are the leaders of
Elvenkind? It is our duty to protect the lives and well-being of every elf. We guide them
and set an example for them. Amroth was a great king in his day. Who among us learned
nothing from him? He would never have allowed any elf to suffer -- and he has suffered
for centuries. Think you not that I would have saved him the very day that he was lost if it
was in my power!"
The other three fell silent. Haldir, Erestor, and Elrond wore inscrutable expressions, but
Celeborn looked angry and Thranduil, amused. Still, all nodded in agreement. Galadriel
looked at each of them in turn, making no secret of the fact that she was piercing their
minds and reading the contents of their hearts. Celeborn hated this power of hers. She
often wished that he had the same power and could read her own heart, since he seemed
so often to doubt her words.
"Thank you, Galadriel," Amroth said.
The ancient king of Lórien stood at the edge of the talan platform. He was dressed in a
flowing white robe that accentuated the air of nobility that would never desert him, despite
the fact that he ruled no more. How pale he still was, as if he still walked in the shadow of
death. His hair was a rich and burnished gold, but his eyes were light as a thin-stretched
sky. He was not as tall as Thranduil, Celeborn, Haldir or Erestor but he was of a height
with Elrond and herself.
It was harder to read him than the others, Galadriel thought, but still she knew that he held
a purity and goodness that had not been destroyed during his time in the sea. He was much
as he had been when she had known him long ago, though greatly weakened. He held
himself elegantly and looked at none of them with suspicion or malice.
"Lothlórien belongs to Galadriel and Celeborn. I would not have it back," he said. She
knew he had not heard their conversation, but had easily guessed what it was about. "I am
grateful to you, Galadriel, for having ended my sojourn in the sea. It has taken me days to
learn what my purpose here is. To remember."
"You wish to find Nimrodel," Elrond said.
Amroth inclined his head. "As do you."
"Perhaps you might work together in this," Galadriel suggested. "Haldir will be made
available to assist you."
"As you wish, my lady," Haldir murmured.
"I think it is a fool's errand," said Celeborn. "Where will they even begin?"
"At the beginning, of course," Galadriel said, smiling at him. "By the stream of Nimrodel,
near the Mines of Moria, where she was last seen."
"Orc country," Haldir said.
"And not far from our borders," Galadriel added. "In two days time a party shall be
formed to search for Nimrodel."
"I volunteer my services, and those of my son," said Thranduil. "I shall be very curious to
see what happens when this mysterious maiden must face both of her old lovers together."
Celeborn chuckled. Elrond did not look the least bit amused. Amroth stared hard at
Elrond, but there was only thoughtfulness in his gaze.
"She had consented to be my bride, Elrond," Amroth said softly.
"I know. I chose another myself, and have no regrets," Elrond said.
"I should hope not," Celeborn added in a threatening tone. Galadriel laid a hand on his
arm. Celeborn slipped an arm around her waist and she forced away a shiver of
excitement. He stood with her now only because of a shared love of Celebrían, nothing
more.
"Nimrodel did love you. I am not deceived in that," Amroth said. "And I am seeking
answers now -- not the maiden herself. I do not believe she still lives."
"Do not speak like that," Elrond said. "It is possible! I refuse to give up hope that she is
alive!"
"Were she alive, she would have come to Belfalas, or to Imladris, or even to Lórien. She
would have sought one or the other of us," Amroth said.
Elrond shook his head. "Surely there is some other reason."
"Surely there is," said Thranduil, "But not one you are likely to want to hear."
He elbowed Celeborn, and they both laughed. Galadriel took a step away from her lord,
frowning. Elrond looked at her thoughtfully.
"What think you, Lady Galadriel?" he asked softly. "I would have your opinion."
"Hope is the lifeblood of Elvenkind," she replied gently. "It pleases me that it has never
abandoned you, Elrond."
"I cannot say the same," Amroth said to Elrond. "Hope deserted me long ago."
Elrond stared into Amroth's eyes for a long moment. "I am sorry for you," he said at last.
Galadriel felt it was time for the council to take its leave. As it was Thranduil and
Celeborn had turned to each other to discuss the wine they might share tonight and who
else they might invite to drink it with them.
"Haldir, you will come with us, and fetch your brothers as well," Celeborn commanded.
"And my son!" Thranduil added. "Legolas has never seen a case of wine as fine as yours,
Celeborn."
"We will to the guest talan," Celeborn said thoughtfully. "Surely Legolas is there already,
and Rúmil as well."
Haldir cast a glance at Galadriel and she nodded to him slightly, dismissing him. He did
not look as thrilled as some young elves might about being asked to drink with Celeborn
and Thranduil, but she knew that he would go. It came to her why -- Legolas. The
Marchwarden harbored a secret. Galadriel smiled to herself. There was no harm in the
attraction to her eyes, though she wondered if Thranduil would feel the same way.
The three of them left the chamber, and Galadriel turned to Elrond, Erestor, and Amroth.
She wished for Elrond and Amroth to get to know each other further. A bond between
them would ease some of the tension over their shared love of the same lady.
"It would please me greatly if you would join me for a light supper," she said. "Then also
may I discuss with you tomorrow night's banquet."
"As you wish," said Elrond.
"It would be my pleasure," Amroth replied.
"And mine," Erestor murmured.
Galadriel led the way up the stairs to her chamber, where several of her ladies were laying
out food and drink. She indicated that the others should make themselves comfortable
while she stepped aside to give her maidens some instructions. Amroth and Erestor seated
themselves immediately, but Elrond looked anxious. Galadriel sent the maidens away and
as they left, Elrond strode to her side.
"The mirror," he said in a low voice. "Can you not find her in that way?"
"Ask this of me after the banquet tomorrow night," Galadriel said. "For now, let us sit
together and speak no more of those who are lost. Instead, let us learn from those who
have been returned to us."
Elrond nodded and led her back to the others.
