INNOCENCE
by Soledad
Disclaimer:
The characters, the context and the main plot belong to Professor Tolkien, whom I greatly admire. I’m only trying to fill in the gaps he so graciously left for us fanfic writers to have some fun. Only Erestor’s family belongs to me.
Rating: PG for this chapter.
Please read Warnings before the Prologue.
Author’s Notes:
Time: (641-700, 3rd Age)
Summary: Lindir and Erestor accompany Arwen and her escort on a journey to Lothlórien. There they meet some old friends – and make some new ones.
This is going to be a lengthy chapter, I fear. So ere we go on, I’d like to answer some questions I have been asked concerning this particular story.
Re: Radagast: The Istari were sent to Middle-earth with a specific purpose each. Getting involved with Elves or Men too closely would have distracted them from their true mission. In fact, Tolkien writes explicitly that Radagast did get distracted through his love to the birds and beasts. Imagine him having a family as well – he would never get anything done! Melian, the only Maia who ever intermarried with Elves, came on her own account, and in a time when the Valar regularly visited Middle-earth.
Re: Gildor: Don’t count on learning the secrets of his past, not in this story. He will get his own tale eventually (’’Born to Rule, Born too Late’’, unless I come up with a besser title); plus he will return irregularly in my Celebrimbor story (’’Sins of the Father’’) as well; you’ll have to look out and put the pieces together. <evil grin>
Re: Lindir: He will have his own Choosing Ceremony – in Chapter 9, if everything goes as I’ve planned out. In this one, both he and Erestor are still a little in the background (politics and other stuff taking over the lead), but from Chapter 8 on the story fully focuses on them again. (Or so I hope. I’m not the one in control here, you know.)
CHAPTER 7: STIRRING OF HEARTS – UNDÓMIEL
[The 11th day of tuilë, in the year 641 of the Third Age.
Despite the agreement Arwen and her parents had come to, it took her almost another year til she was ready to leave for Lothlórien for a longer time. Preparations for the long journey had to be made, important matters she had begun in Imladris had to be finished, and, above all, she had to teach the Lady Aquiel how to run things in her absence. Certainly, Celebrían could have done everything without her help, but there were certain duties that a daughter (or a substitute daughter) was due to fulfill, and it was high time for Aquiel to begin sharing the life of Elrond’s family.
It came somewhat as a shock when Elrohir stepped forth and asked for his parent’s blessings to his betrothal with the Lady Aquiel. At first Elrond was a little reluctant to give his leave – not that he would have had any objections against the young princess; in fact, he welcomed the chance to reunite the Houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin after such a long time with the bonds of matrimony – but he thought both of them much too young to bond themselves for eternity.(1)
’’I welcome you into our family,’‘ he said to Aquiel, ’’and readily would I give my blessing to your betrothal. Still, I must ask you to give yourselves more than a mere year before becoming sealed for eternity.’’
’’I agree with you, my Lord,’‘ Aquiel bowed slightly. ’’In fact, I intend to complete my studies ere founding a family, and Elrohir has agreed to wait til I am done.’’
’’Then why are you in such hurry to get betrothed?’’ Elrond asked.
’’We both feel that we have found our true soul-mate,’‘ replied Aquiel, ’’and we want to show everyone that we, indeed, belong together – even if we have decided to postpone our fulfillment for a long time.’’
’’That I can understand,’‘ Elrond nodded, ’’and I shall not stand in the way of your happiness. I only ask you to be this honest even if you should have a change of heart later.’’
’’Should that happen, I will be honest with you and your son, my Lord,’‘ said Aquiel with a smile, ’’but I am certain it will not come to that.’’
Elrond smiled back at her. ’’In that case you have our blessings – mine and those of the Lady of the Valley. We hope the two of you will be as happy as we are.’’
And so a simple betrothal ceremony had been held on the first eve of enderi(2), under the stars of Varda, and Aquiel and Elrohir now wore the unadorned silver rings that symbolized their upcoming bond, never guessing how long it would take them til they finally became sealed for eternity(3).
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
But all this was over by now, and Arwen left for Lothlórien on the second day of tuilë(4), right after the Spring Festival, with a small company of Imladris’ House Guards, led by her elder brother, Elladan, for Elrohir remained in the valley with his freshly-betrothed bride.
In his stead Erestor went, carrying important messages from the Lord and Lady of the Valley to both King Amroth and the Lady Galadriel. Celebrían sent separate messages to be given her father alone, for she was still very uncomfortable with her mother’s proposal and wanted Celeborn to make sure that Arwen would not be forced to do aught against her will.
And Erestor took Lindir with him, for he wanted his young charge to see more of Middle-earth than just the borders of Imladris. After all, Lindir had never left the valley since he had been brought there by Aiwendil.
Their road had been an easy one thus far. They crossed the Hithaeglir at the High Pass, for Elladan wanted to explore the eastern side of the mountains once again, and rode slowly along the Anduin southwards. Erestor was thankful for the route, for that way he was not forced to see the ruins of Eregion again. Though he had been there, several times in fact, since the sack of Ost-in-Edhil, the mere sight of his old home caused him violent nightmares for weeks, and that was not a thing he would have welcomed on his first long journey with Lindir.
The young Elf had matured a lot during the recent years, without losing his wide-eyed, child-like innocence; in truth, he was a grown Elf already, in all but his still somewhat backward social skills, and Erestor began to believe that – just as Celebrían had foretold – they would never make that much headway with those. But Elrond insisted that Lindir should (and would) be able to learn what he called appropriate behavior, and part of the reason that he had sent Erestor as his messenger was to send Lindir with him. Mayhap in the more formal serenity of Galadriel’s court Lindir would learn when to speak and when to remain silent, he pointed out.
For his part Erestor had doubts about that, but he enjoyed his errand nevertheless. Tuilë was beautiful this year, the weather perfect for a long, leisurely journey, and he welcomed the chance to leave Imladris for a while and simply enjoy himself, without the burden of his daily responsibilities.
Lindir seemed to enjoy the journey, too. He always loved trees and birds as well as horses, and now he could see new things that intrigued his bright and curious spirit. Additionally, he was not forced to travel with people he did not know (which was the reason he always refused to accompany Gildor Inglorion on any of his journeys); and he had Erestor with him, his personal safety guarantee, so he was happy and of high spirits all the way.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
They traveled slowly, so the spring season almost reached its end when they finally reached a long lawn of shining grass, adorned with the small golden eyes of elanor that glinted in the sunlight. The lawn ran out into a narrow tongue between bright margins: on the right and west the Silverlode flowed glittering; on the left and east Anduin, the Great River rolled its broad waters, deep and dark. On the further shores the woodland still marched on southwards as far as the eye could see, but all the banks were bleak and bare.
Elladan checked his horse and looked around, relieved.
’’We are almost there’’, he said. ’’If I remember rightly, we must be about ten miles from the main gate of Caras Galadhon.’’
Arwen nodded in agreement, and now Erestor finally understood why Elladan had chosen this unusual route. Approaching Lothlórien from the East made them able to go straight to Caras Galadhon, without crossing King Amroth’s domain first. This was not the first time that Elladan's keen sense for strategy had shown.
On the bank of the Silverlode, at some distance up from the meeting of the streams, there was a hythe of white stones and white wood. By it were moored many boats and barges. Some were brightly painted, carrying the family crest of King Amroth, shining with silver and gold and green, but most were either white or grey, in the Teleri fashion that was kept both in Edhellond and in the Grey Havens.
As soon as they reached the spot where the two rivers came together, the Elves working on their vessels saw them and came forth to greet them. Most of them were of the Silvan folk, slender and auburn-haired (though their tresses showed highlights of gold at springtime), but one of them, a young male, taller and somewhat broader-built as the others, had the ash blonde hair of Nandorin ancestors. And his features seemed very familiar to Erestor.
’’You seem to have forgotten me altogether, my good Erestor’’, the blonde Elf laughed, after the proper greeting had been spoken. ’’It has been a long time since you visited us last, yet I would hope that you still remembered.’’
That playful, teasing tone finally gave him away, and Erestor grinned widely, remembering the one or other mischief of the shared times from their youth.
’’Certainly, I do remember, Rúmil,’‘ he laughed. ’’I remember all too well the silly pranks you used to play on me. Why is it I find you with the boats? I thought you were serving in the border guard.’’
’’I have,’‘ Rúmil said, ’’but our King wanted me to guard the haven here. Orophin has taken my place in the border guard. He needs the guidance of our elder brother more than I do.’’
’’Then tis true?’‘ Erestor asked in a low voice. ’’You have sided with King Amroth, all three of you?’’
’’Could you expect aught else?’’ Rúmil answered just as quietly. ’’Haldir used to be a close friend of King Amdír and the weapons master of the Prince. Orophin and I grew up together with Amroth under Haldir’s hand – how could we turn our backs on him? Besides, he is the rightful King of Lothlórien… we are not the ones who became unfaithful.’’
He would have told other things from the look of him, but trailed off, for Elladan became impatient and urged his company to continue their way, which Erestor regretted, for he would have liked to talk to Rúmil some more.
’’We shall speak again later,’‘ he promised. ’’I have messages for your King from the Lord Elrond that I must deliver.’’
’’Then you shall find me and my brothers as well,’‘ Rúmil answered, smiling, ’’for we dwell in the high house of our king, upon Cerin Amroth, in the very heart of his realm. I shall return and tell the King and Haldir that you have arrived.’’
’’And I shall accompany you,’‘ Fíriel said, parting company with the rest of Arwen’s escort; ’’for my business is with your brother and not with the Lady of Caras Galadhon.’’
Both Elladan and Rúmil nodded in agreement, for Fíriel had only come with the company of Imladris to spend a greater length of time with Haldir than his fleeting visits in the valley would allow. Therefore he need not to enter Caras Galadhon, which she avoided when she could. Not that she feared Galadriel – there were few things that could frighten her, and the Lady of the Wood was not one of them – it was more that Galadriel disliked her greatly, for she belonged to Elrond’s past… a past of which Celebrían had not yet been part of.
Celebrían herself shared not her mother’s prejudices against Elrond’s consort of old – in truth, she respected Fíriel’s honesty and rather liked her somewhat brusque manners, and the two of them had even grown fond of each other, which pleased Celebrían greatly. For Elrond would rarely speak of his past and its sorrows, and through Fíriel the Lady of the Valley learnt more about her husband that she would have ever learnt from Elrond himself.
Now the rest of the company with Arwen and Elladan rode westwards on the lawn, away from the waters, and after some ten miles they came on a high green wall. A grey-cloaked guardian greeted them and let them pass an opening – so narrow that the horses were barely able to get through – and suddenly they came into a deep thicket of mallorn-trees, following a path that went up the hillsides, winding through rolling woodlands and silver shadows, towards the City of Trees.
Finally, they reached a road paved with white stone, that led to a green hill encircled by a green wall of great height; and the hill was thronged with mallorn-trees, taller than Erestor had ever seen; for he never came any further to the Golden Wood than its northern border. He could not even guess the height of these magnificent trees, but they stood up in the twilight like living towers of silver and gold and emerald. In their many tiered branches and amid their ever-moving leaves, now mostly dark green, spotted only here and there with the gold of the previous winter, lights were gleaming, green and gold and silver.
’’Here at last.’‘ Elladan took a deep breath, and on his fair face the joy of homecoming clearly shone; for he was a hunter by nature and loved the great forests and the life in the treetops where he could vanish more easily from prying eyes than in his father’s halls.
But the Lady Arwen’s face remained guarded and her clear grey eyes were alert, as if preparing herself for a long and hard fight.
They came to a white bridge, crossed it – and all of a sudden they stood before the great gates of the Tree City, set between the ends of the encircling wall and hung with many lamps. Elladan dismounted, knocked and spoke, and the gates swung open soundlessly and shut behind them the same way.
No guards could be seen, but Erestor felt that strange prickling in the nape of his neck that always meant that he was being watched. He turned to Lindir who stood as if rooted upon the pure gold carpet of fallen leaves, his eyes impossibly wide, listening to the far-away sound of singing that fell from above like soft, silver rain upon the leaves.
Yes, this was the place where Lindir would have grown and blossomed like a young tree planted at a mountain spring, and Erestor asked himself why Master Aiwendil never thought of bringing him here. Certainly the Lord Celeborn would have been able to tutor him just as well as Elrond and Glorfindel did, mayhap even welcomed him into his family as a fosterling.
For some reason, the thought caused a dull ache in his chest.
They passed along many paths and climbed many flights of steps, until they saw before them amid a wide lawn a fountain. It sprang high in the air and fell in a wide basin of silver, from which a white stream ran away down the hill. Graceful statues of stone, hewn into the shape of lovely Elven maidens holding shallow plates stood at the end of a white stone stairway, leading to the highest mallorn of all, standing high by.
It must have been nearly 200 feet high, and of great girth. It had no branches lower than three fathoms above its roots. In the upper branches amid the leaves many lights – gold and white and pale green – were shining. At its foot stood three tall Elves. They were clad in grey mail and from their shoulders hung long white cloaks. Erestor saw at once that they were not from the Silvan folk, but they seemed not entirely Noldor either.
Mayhap of mixed blood, he thought, These would be most likely faithful to the Lady and support her against Amroth.
’’Welcome to Caras Galadhon,’‘ their leader said, directing his words towards Arwen and Elladan. ’’The Lord and the Lady are awaiting you.’’
One of the wardens then blew a short note on a small horn, and slowly unfolding itself, a winding stairway was let down.
’’I shall go first,’‘ Elladan turned to Erestor and Lindir, “and Arwen with me. You may follow us as you wish; the others will wait down here. ’Tis a long climb, but the view is worth of it, once you are above.’’
As they passed upwards, Erestor saw many smaller flets to this side or that, some with rooms built on them; but about a hundred feet above the ground they came to a flet that was very wide – like the deck of a great ship. On it was built a house so large that almost it might have been a hall of Men upon the earth.
They entered behind Elrond’s children, and saw that they were in a chamber of oval shape, through the midst of which passed the bole of the great tree. It was filled with a soft golden light. Many Elves were seated there. The roof was a pale gold, the walls green and silver.
On two seats at the further end sat side by side the Lord and Lady of Caras Galadhon. They looked tall, even as they sat, clad entirely in white, and their eyes were shining. This was the first time that Erestor had ever seen Celeborn, though he knew that the Tree Lord had led a host to Eregion in order to save them long ago, back in the Second Age. Even if that host had been too late – later in fact than Elrond himself, who had not arrived at Ost-in-Edhil in time either – he was grateful for the ultimately failed attempt to rescue the inhabitants of the city.
As he now looked at the Lord Galathir(5) (for so Celeborn was called of old among his own people), a tall and venerable Elf-Lord he saw, with deep, wise eyes glittering darkly in his ageless face, his long, glistening hair framing his noble features like a silver cape. Those dark eyes saw in the hearts of Elves and Men, but what they saw moved the Lord of Trees to compassion, not to judgment, and Erestor at once understood whom the Lady Celebrían inherited her gentle heart from.
The Lady Galadriel, on the other hand, was no stranger to Erestor. Though a little elfling only at that time long gone when Galadriel had visited Ost-in-Edhil, he still could remember the anger and sorrow in the deep, musical voice of the Lord Celebrimbor after that visit. He had been much too young to understand what Celebrimbor and his own father had been talking about while he had tried to cut one of his very first gems to proper form (which had sadly proved to be his last one), but even now he could remember the sadness upon Celebrimbor’s noble face – a sadness and deep humiliation that had not been there before.
Now, many hundred years later, he knew, of course, what their quarrel had been about… and that Galadriel had been right, back then. Yet he also knew that she had accepted Celebrimbor’s gift after all, lacking the strength to destroy it – and that a great part of her powers had been drawn from that gift, the maker and giver of which she had humiliated more than any one else in his long life.
As Arwen and Elladan stepped into the oval-shaped chamber, both the Lord and the Lady rose from their seats and embraced them; then the Lord turned to Erestor and Lindir and bade them welcome, but the Lady Galadriel said no word, and looked long into their faces.
’’Welcome, Erestor son of Hargil,’‘ Celeborn greeted him courteously. ’’Your name is known to me, though never in all your travels have you sought my house. Still, I am glad that at least some of the people from Ost-in-Edhil survived the horrible destruction, in spite of my own tardiness.’’
’’You tried your best, my Lord,’‘ Erestor answered with a bow. ’’Tis not your fault that the Enemy struck sooner than expected. We who escaped still bless your name, along with those of Elrond, Glorfindel and Gildor Inglorion, for at least trying to come to our aid.’’
’’You are more generous than I deserve,’‘ Celeborn replied with a regretful sigh; then he turned to Lindir who had been watching him with curious eyes. ’’Welcome, Lindir of Rhosgobel. Long have I waited to meet you who had the privilege to grow up in the house of the eldest and fatherless. It is my hope that you shall share your rare gift of music with my people.’’
’’As you wish, my Lord,’‘ Lindir blushed, but held his glance steadily.
Now the Lord sat down again, and the Lady Galadriel finally turned to them, and she spoke to Erestor first. ’’I understand that you have messages for me?’’ she asked.
Erestor had to fight hard to hide his mistrust. ’’For you, Lady, for the Lord of Trees, and for King Amroth as well,’‘ he answered politely.
Galadriel arched a long, golden eyebrow, and the light in her deep blue eyes grew cold. ’’Surely there is no need to divide the messages you brought for us,’‘ she said in a tone that brooked no argument. ’’The Lord Celeborn and I have no secrets kept from each other.’
’’That I doubt not, Lady,’‘ Erestor replied in an even, emotionless voice; ’’yet I have been ordered to give some of the messages to you and some of them to the Lord of Trees; and that is what I shall do. ’Tis up to you to share them with each other. I must follow the instructions I was given.’’
Their eyes met, and their wills clashed for a moment, but Galadriel’s powers could only bend those to her will who were willing to follow her already, not one who had nurtured ill feelings towards her for half an Age.
’’You have little love for me in your heart, do you, son of Hargil?’’ she asked in a low, silky-dangerous voice.
Erestor did not back off. ’’Nay, Lady,’‘ he said, ’’I have no love for you at all. Nor does any one who had lived in the times before Ost-in-Edhil fell. Our love was for our Lord, Celebrimbor of the finest arts, whom you have to thank for more than you would ever be willing to admit.’’
It became eerily quiet in the great chamber; all the Elves waited with caught breath for Galadriel’s wrath to manifest in some horrible form. No-one had ever dared to speak thusly to the Warrior Princess of the Noldor – even less so someone of common birth, someone who descended from the foolish followers of Celebrimbor… the ones that let themselves be deceived by the Dark Lord.
Yet the Lady of Caras Galadhon contained her wrath, though her angry glare promised naught good, and turned to Lindir now, forcing herself to a benevolent tone again.
’’Welcome, Ingwil son of Duilin,’‘ she said. ’’It gladdens my heart to se that at least one of the descendants of Orodreth, my beloved brother, survived the destruction of our House.’’
She looked the youngling deep in the eyes, and Erestor began to worry, for the powers of Galadriel to easily break through the shields of most people were widely known, and he feared that Lindir might suffer permanent damage. Even Elladan shot his sister a worried glance, for every one liked Lindir, and they wanted not Galadriel to demonstrate her strength on him.
But Lindir only smiled, completely unaffected by the formidable Lady, it seemed, and said:
’’I regret to disappoint you, Lady, but though I might have been born the person you spoke of, I am not him any longer. Lindir of Rhosgobel I am called, the foster son of Radagast the Brown; and that is who I shall always remain. Gildor Inglorion, the head of Finrod’s House, has respected my choice in this; and I respectfully ask you to do the same.’’
For a moment the carefully arranged mask of Galadriel slipped and she looked truly furious and thoroughly frightening in her wrath, for she was not used to rejection. But then Celeborn’s slender hand rested soothingly upon hers, and the Lord of Trees answered in her stead in a friendly manner.
’’If Gildor was willing to give you your freedom, young Lindir, than his decision is binding upon all of Finarfin’s descendants; for he has the leadership over the House and the right to decide about the fate of the younger generations. No-one here shall ever force you to do aught that you wish not to do. I only offer you – both of you,’‘ he added, looking at Erestor,’’ – the hospitality of Caras Galadhon for the length of your stay in Lothlórien.’’
’’My sincerest thanks, Lord Celeborn,’ Erestor bowed, ’’but for my part, I have already accepted the invitation of my old friend, Haldir. As for Lindir – he is, of course, free to choose where he wants to stay. I am his tutor, not his jailer.’’
’’I wish to stay with you, Master Erestor,’‘ Lindir said at once, ere someone could have said aught.
Celeborn nodded. ’’As you wish, young one. Now, Erestor, would you hand over your messages to us ere you hurry to leave our presence?’’ he said, but his eyes were twinkling, making it clear, that – unlike his wife – he was not angry with them.
’’Certainly, my Lord.’‘Erestor accepted the mild rebuke, getting slightly red, and handed Elrond’s message tube to Galadriel and Celebrían’s to her father. ’’I am familiar with some of the messages, so if you would wish to discuss the situation of the North-kingdom of Men in more detail, I would be glad to do so.’’
’’We might,’‘ Celeborn nodded again. ’’How long do you intend to remain in Lothlórien?’’
’’I know not,’‘ Erestor answered, ’’not yet at least. It depends on Fíriel’s decision, for I was ordered to escort her back to Imladris safely. Yet if she chooses to remain here longer than one loa(6) only, I might take Lindir down Anduin in a boat and visit Edhellond with him. Gildor Inglorion repeatedly voiced his wish that we go and stay in his town with him for a while.’’
Galadriel raised a skeptic eyebrow. ’’Have you not just said that he had given up on the youngling?’’
’’Nay, Lady,’‘ Erestor replied, “I said that he respects Lindir’s choice. But he still wishes him to know his own people and the history of his family – and that is a wish Lindir has chosen to respect… mostly for he still has much to learn from the minstrels among Gildor’s people.’’
’’That sounds reasonable,’‘ Celeborn agreed. ’’At the begin of laer(7) I intend to send some boats to Edhellond anyway, to trade with Gildor’s people. You may join them, if you wish. They are due to return in the next loa only; so you shall have time enough to explore the joys of living near the Sea. Though I might not suffer from the Sea-longing the Nordor so easily fell victim to, I remember fondly the time I spent in Círdan’s realm – and I doubt not that you too shall enjoy the nearness of the Sea greatly.’’
’’Your generous offer is most thankfully accepted, my Lord,’‘ Erestor said.
’’Good,’‘ Celeborn replied with a serene smile. ’’Now, I expect you to partake of our welcome feast, held for my grandchildren tonight here in Caras Galadhon, and I wish young Lindir to show his famous talent in song and music, ere you leave us for Cerin Amroth, which the young King of the Golden Wood has chosen as his high seat.’’
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
End notes:
(1) Yes, I do know what it's said in Laws & Customs about Elven marriages. And no, I don’t care. Elves live thousands of years; at the age of 50 they still are little more than babies, no matter what the Great Maker says. So don’t start nit-picking on me. I deliberately ignore Laws & Customs here. Sorry.
(2) The Middle Days
(3) It took them very long, indeed. They were not married til after the Ring War – and not without some painful misunderstandings in-between, as you can read in my other stories (for example in ’’A Tale of Never-Ending Love’’).
(4) The spring season.
(5) Tree-lord. Name Tolkien originally planned to give Celeborn, according to ’’The Treason of Isengard’’.
(6) The seasonal year of the Elves.
(7) Sindarin name of the summer season.