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. Fíriel still belongs to Deborah. Only the Lady Aquiel belongs to me – and the enigmatic Wandering Company of Gildor.
Rating: PG, for this chapter.
Please read Warnings before the Prologue.
Author’s Notes:
Time: year 640, 3rd Age
Summary: A long-dealyed discussion finally takes place.
Originally, I planned another 60-year-jump here, sending my heroes straight to Lothlórien. But then I remembered that there was still the small matter of Galadriel’s mysterious message – the one Celebrían got in Chapter 5 (Roos) – and that she so obviously disliked. In all that excitement about Arwen’s First Choice and the blossoming love between Elrohir and the Lady Aquiel (not to mention the second-worst writer’s block of my life) I neglected to come back to the Lothlórien problem… which fact created an almost 40-year-gap of storytelling while it still remained unsolved.
Also, in Chapter 6 (Stirring of Hearts – Lalaith) Haldir came from Lothlórien with another message, this one from Amroth, the new, self-proclaimed King of the Golden Wood. Now, I didn’t want to leave both messages unopened (for the reader, at least) and unanswered for another half a century.
I needed to do something for continuity’s sake – hence this Interlude, mostly a conversation between Elrond and Celebrían (and later Arwen), about the Lórien problem and about Arwen’s ongoing relationship with Gildor Inglorion – which Elrond still very much dislikes.
So, this would be a short and rather ’’chatty’’ little part, about Elven politics and arranged marriages – you might find it boring. But it is necessary for me to go on with the story as a whole, so I humbly ask your forgiveness. <g>
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''My golden lover of sweetest music,
my golden lover with helmet of flame,
you are the one who nurtures me,
you are the one who quenches my pain.
Love that sweetens in autumn
settles by winter like wine;
like new wine in a crystal cup
fills my heart its strong radiance.
You kindle the flame of my soul,
you burn my worries in fire.
Like filth is my food without you,
like rusty water tastes my wine.''
László Nagy
(Hungarian poet – loosely translated by me. Sorry. I know I can’t do poetry, but this poem just begged to stand here at the beginning, and none of my usual benefactors understands Hungarian, so I had to do it myself.)
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INTERLUDE: FAMILY DISCUSSIONS
[The 23rd day of tuilë(1), in the year 640 of the Third Age]
Spring was fully a-blossom in the enchanted valley of Imladris, and Elven hearts were singing with joy after the long, cold winter season and the slowly awakening days of stirring. The dwellers of the valley – permanent ones and long-time guests alike – were out on the terraced fields and in the greenhouses, eager to tend to the awakened Earth in order to secure a good harvest later of for the rejuvenated seasonal year.
The most important duties, as usual fell to the Lady Arwen. As the leader of the Yavannildi(2), she had to overlook the sowing of suncorn(3), that needed not only very special care but also carefully measured enchantment to make the corn grow so far in the North. A most delicate work indeed – but not overly demanding for Arwen, who descended from Lúthien Tinúviel, the greatest of all Elven enchantresses and from the Lord of Trees who dwelt in the Golden Wood.
This year the valley was given a rare gift that very few Elves had seen in these lesser days: a new life, born into their midst. Young Tinwiel gave birth to a little daughter at the expected time, and she named her Irilde(4), to honour the Lord of the Valley and his ancestors. Elrond was moved and offered Tinwiel to remain in the valley for a few years, until the child grew strong enough to endure a longer journey, and Tinwiel and her husband Radhros thankfully accepted the generous offer.
The rest of the Wandering Company moved shortly after the birth – this time they were heading towards the South Haven, for Gildor felt the need to see his city and meet the majority of his people again, having been absent for several years. He also wanted to strengthen the small settlement’s defenses, for the Corsairs of Umbar had become reckless in the recent years(5) and he did not want to leave his small realm vulnerable.
So he took his leave from Elrond’s family (Arwen of them above all), said his farewells to the Lady Aquiel and to Lindir, whom he still considered the long-lost nephew the young elf actually was, and once again he was on the never-ending road of slow but constant travels.
’’’Tis a relief that he finally is gone’’, Elrond murmured. ’’I began to feel like a prisoner in my own home.’’
’’You should not let him corner you so easily’’, Celebrían said with a gentle smile. ’’You are old enough to be his father – and yet in your anger you offer him the most perfect target.’’
Elrond sighed. ’’I know. And I know, too, that I should learn to ignore him. Yet like a poisonous thorn in my flesh he has become, ever since the years of our youth in Lindon – and I cannot befriend the thought that even our proud, head-strong daughter yielded to him.’’
’’Then do not’’, Celebrían laughed, ’’for I am very certain that he is more of a conquest for our daughter than one she would truly love. She is testing her powers and marking their limits – that is one of the reasons she has chosen him in the first place.’’
’’How can you be so certain?’’, Elrond asked, a little bewildered. It did him little good to be one of the Wise, it seemed, when he was unable to read the heart of his own daughter – a skill that his wife mastered without the littlest of effort.
’’She has much of you in her’’, Celebrían answered with a small sigh, wondering, how her oh so wise husband could not see the small things that lay so open before him; ’’and also much of me and my father. But there is a part of her – and in her alone of all our children – that she inherited from Mother. A… hardness that no-one else in our family possesses – not even you, despite all the battles you have fought and all the pain and blood that you have seen.’’
’’What does it mean for her future life?’’, Elrond asked, for there clearly was something that wisdom and lore could not explain – only the insight of a mother into the heart of her child who had shared her body and soul for a full circle of seasons.
’’Our daughter was born to become a Queen’’, Celebrían said with a smile that had as much pain in it as it had pride; ’’one way or another. Gildor Inglorion cannot give her that, for though he might have the birthright to become a King, he has no kingdom to rule. Therefore this affair that makes you worry so much shall end on the very day Arwen finally meets the true King of her heart.’’
’’You say Arwen is triffling with his heart?’’, Elrond asked a little uncomfortable, for regardless of what he might have thought of Gildor, such a thing was considered less than honourable among Elves.
Celebrían shook her head.
’’Nay; that she would never do. Also, though Gildor seems to be in deep love, he is no fool. He very much knows what he can hope from Arwen and what he cannot. I believe he chose to take what was offered, as long as it lasts. ’Twas still better than loneliness.’’
’’When you think ’tis only a matter of time for Arwen to leave him’’, Elrond said slowly, gravely, ’’then mayhap we should speak to our daughter about those messages that came in from the Golden Wood – both of them.’’
’’We should’’, Celebrían agreed, ’’for we have delayed this conversation much too long already, and the senders of the messages might become impatient, soon.’’
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After watching the Moon rise and greeting it with the appropriate songs, Arwen and Aquiel parted company with the other young Elves of Elrond’s household and returned to the Great House.
’’Any plans for the evening?’’, Arwen asked.
Aquiel gave her a mischievous smile, grey eyes sparkling. ’’I promised Elrohir to…’’
’’…take harp lessons tonight’’, Arwen finished for her. They laughed, this being the usual excuse for the two to spend some time together, undisturbed. Playing the harp was rarely part of their activities, however.
’’That is true’’, Aquiel nodded with mock seriousness; ’’I need practice. What about you?’’
’’My parents intend to have an important talk with me’’, Arwen said with a sigh and a wry face. Aquiel gave her a sympathetic nod.
’’Ai! The ’Gildor-is-not-the-right-one-for-you’-speech again?’’
’’I know not’’, Arwen admitted. ’’Were it Father alone, I would guess so. But Mother has never been aught but supportive.’’
’’Then, I think, you cannot do aught else but go there and find out what ’tis all about’’, Aquiel commented drily.
Arwen laughed and kissed her on the cheek ere drifting off towards her parent’s bedchamber. The Lord and the Lady preferred to discuss important family matters in private rather than in Elrond’s study where all members of the household had free access.
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When Arwen entered the large room through the adjoining balcony, both her parents were sitting at the hearth where a fire still burnt low, for the spring evenings were quite chilly in the valley. Elrond seemed concerned, and from her mother she received troubled feelings – as if Celebrían had disliked the upcoming discussion in advance.
’’Sit with us, Arwen’’, her father said. ’’The Lady Celebrían and I have chosen to speak with you about a matter of some importance.’’
Arwen frowned at that. Never had her father spoken so formally to her, regardless of the importance of the matter he wanted to discuss. This sounded not good at all. Mayhap Aquel had been right, and her parents were preparing to give him the ’Gildor-is-not-the-right-one-for-you’-speech again.
She sat obediently, determined to defend her choice if necessary, and looked at her father in askance.
’’I understand that you wish to visit Lothlórien for some time’’, Elrond began. Arwen nodded.
’’That I do, Father. I have not completed my studies yet, and Grandmother has already sent me messages to remaind me of this.’’
’’Has she?’’, Elrond raised an eyebrow. ’’We have not known of this, your mother and I. And you found it not important enough to speak of it?’’
’’I assumed that she had sent the same messages to you already’’, Arwen shrugged. ’’Yet she is right. I have been tarrying too long. I should have finished my studies before my Choosing Ceremony.’’
’’And yet you chose to wait’’, said Celebrían quietly; ’’why would you do so? I very much doubt that it was for Gildor, even though he avoids Lothlórien when he can.’’
’’He does?’’, Arwen asked in surprise. ’’I know he has little love for Grandmother because of the way she handled Celebrimbor a long time ago, but many of his people belong to the Silvan folk. They certainly would like to visit the mallonrs of the Golden Woood?’’
’’For that’’, Celebrían replied, ’’one has not to enter Caras Galadhon. But seeing you in Lothlórien would require it.’’
’’True’’, Arwen admitted. ’’And yet, I have not tarried for Gildor’s sake.’’
’’Why did you tarry then?’’, Celebrían asked.
’’I wanted to become a healer first’’, Arwen said. ’’A good one. And that I could but achieve while watching Father. Having inherited the skills is a great gift of the Valar; yet ’tis not enough. I wanted to learn the lore as well. But now that I have learnt all that can be learned, I want to finish other things that I had begun earlier. And in these days Grandmother is the only one left who had learnt the skills of enchantment from Melian and Lúthien.’’
’’She is the greatest of all who still can wield Elven magic’’, Elrond agreed; ’’here is no else who could teach you better.’’
’’And yet I can become even stronger, despite of my later birth’’, Arwen said with calm certainty. ’’For I am of the blood of Melian the Maia, while she is not.’’
’’True; still, I would advice you not to remind her of that’’, said Celebrían drily. ’’She might not react to such reminder in kind.’’
’’I know that, Mother’’, Arwen laughed. ’’I know her all too well, I fear. Now, do tell me, the two of you: what is it you wanted to discuss with me?'’
’’I presume you are aware of the delicate situation in Lothlórien, that had led to tensions, ever since Amroth son of Amdír declared himself the King of the Golden Wood?’’, Elrond asked.
’’It was his brithright, was it not?’’, Arwen arched an elegant eyebrow. ’’Though Grandmother might think differently, I deem. Too accustomed she had become to ruling the Galadhrim while Prince Amroth was but a young elfling. ’Tis hard for her to step down.’’
’’It is’’, Elrond nodded. ’’But what is worse: the Galadhrim truly are divided. The greater part of them follows King Amroth, while others still want to serve the Lord of Trees. ’Tis not good for our people.’’
’’Certainly not’’, Arwen shrugged, ’’but what concern of mine might that be? I belong to Imladris, with you, not to Lothlórien.’’
’’That might change’’, Elrond replied gravely. ’’The Lady of the Wood seems to think that a marriage between you and King Amroth would solve the conflict to the mutual benefit of both parties involved.’’
’’What?!’’, Arwen leapt to her feet, with cold fury in her clear eyes. ’’Does Grandmother think she could sell me out like a horse for her own purposes? How can you even propose such thing to me, Father?’’
’’Sit down, Arwen!’’, Elrond said in an equally cold voice. ’’I do not support this plan of your grandmother; nor does the Lady of Imladris. Yet it seems that Galadriel had succeeded in at least warming King Amroth up to the idea; for he, too, sent a message, asking us to consider such a marriage – and asking you to visit his realm, in order to make your acquintance.’’
’’The way between Imladris and Lothlórien is equally long in both directions’’, Arwen said coldly. ’’If he wants to meet me, he shall be welcome in our home any time.’’
’’True’’, Celebrían smiled; ’’but would you leave your newly-won kingdom unguarded, knowing that the Lady Galadriel remains behind, trying to extend her influence over your lands, too?’’
Arwen sighed. This, of course, was very, very true.
’’Nay, I would not. Father, even if you support the proposal not – what is your advice in this? Should I go and meet the new King of Lothlórien while I visit Caras Galadhon?’’
’’I cannot tell you what to do’’, answered Elrond thoughtfully; ’’though it would do certainly no harm to accept his invitation. You are not asked to answer him yet, neither aye, nor nay. This would only be a gesture of respect and friendship – honouring the memory of his father who had fought valiantly on my side during the Last Alliance and gave his life for the defeat of Darkness. Naught else.’’
Arwen nodded; then she turned to Celebrían and looked at her in askance.
’’What say you, Mother? Are you comfortable with the thought of Amroth and I meeting – or myhap getting bound, should we choose thusly, after what had been between you and his father?’’
’’Nay, I am not’’, Celebrían replied without hesitation. ’’More than that: it makes me sick that my own mother, who thought King Amdír unworthy of my hand, would make her move to bring Amdír’s son together with my daughter, for the benefit of her own power. I wish not the heart of my only daughter to be misused as a tool for my mother’s devices.’’
Arwen nodded again, slowly. Then she turned back to her father.
’’What about you, ata? Would such a bond make you as upset as my affair with Gildor Inglorion makes you? Or more?’’
’’I wish you to bond yourself to the one whom your heart desires’’, Elrond answered gently; ’’just as your mother and I have done. I would accept any one you choose out of true love – even Gildor. My child, I only want you the same happiness your mother and I share.’’
’’Then you have no reason to worry’’, Arwen laughed; ’’for I shall never bond myself to Gildor. He is a great leader of his people, and a wonderfully gentle partner; and he is very much in love with me, just as I am with him. Yet what we share is the passion of flesh only – that and some gentle affection. He is not the one my fëa(6) would ever merge with.’’
’’Why not?’’, Elrond asked, though secretly he was very much relieved, for he wished not his old adversary to become part of their family.
’’For he had merged his fëa with an other one, long before I was even born’’, said Arwen quietly, the pain obvious in her controlled voice. ’’I know not – not for sure – who this other one might have been, but I am certain that who ever this person was, part of Gildor had died with them. For they were soul-bound, and therefore I shall never be the one he truly belongs with.’’
’’Does this disturb you greatly?’’, Celebrían asked in gentle compassion.
’’It hurts’’, Arwen admitted, ’’yet I am grateful that he did not hide this from me. I do love him – yet my heart is not yet bound, and given enough time, I shall be able to love someone else. I am certain of that. Mayhap meeting King Amroth would be beneficial for me, after all.’’
’’Make no promises ere you are certain of your own heart!’’, Elrond warned her, not entirely happy about this turn of events. Regardless of what he might think of Gildor, he hated to see his little girl (for Arwen would always remain a little girl for him) hurting.
’’Be in peace, ata’’, Arwen replied with a fond smile. ’’I would never bond myself for eternity if I were not sure that I found the right one.’’
Elrond smiled back and nodded.
’’Then we are both content’’, he answered. ’’Know this, my child: your mother and I shall always support your choices. Neither of us shall ever force you to choose for any other reason but true love.’’
’’I know that’’, Arwen said; ’’and I am grateful. I truly am. And since we all agree in the matters that are of true importance, I am willing to meet King Amroth and listen to what he has to say. As long as the choice is mine.’’
’’It is’’, Elrond said. ’’It always has been, and it always will be.’’
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Well, yeah, this ends a little abruptly, but I prefer to break up as long as I still have something to say, instead of adding a few dozen meaningless lines.<g>
In the next chapter we are all going to Lórien and make the acquintance of King Amroth. Also, everyone’s favourite Marchwarden, one Haldir is making an appearance, with his whole family, and we finally meet Celeborn and Galadriel, too.
Since this is mainly Lindir’s story, I decided to send the boy out to see a little of the world, as long as the roads still are more or less secure. Of course, Erestor would never let him go alone, reagardless of his mixed feelings towards Galadriel, so we can look forward for some wonderful conflict – or so I hope. If my muse cooperates.