Not For Arda

[Curufin]

Findaráto could hold his anger in no longer.

'Do you forsake that part of your family as well? Your kin, and then your name? Nay, I shall not call you by an epessë given to you by your Sindar consort! Shall he convince you to see Quenya as an evil as Elwë has already tried to do? Had you married him honourably, perhaps things would be different, but you have insulted your family in the way that you have gone about this - me in particular. I am the eldest of the House of Arafinwë, and as such, deserved at least the respect to be consulted in this matter. If he is so honourable, why has he not come? Why is he not by your side? I should never have sent Amárië into danger alone, if indeed danger does exist in these woods.'

[Willow Oran]

She had gone too far, she knew and the idea that it would be a very, very long time before her brothers forgave her and that she might have doomed Celeborn sent a stabbing ache throughout her, bringing tears to her eyes. She fought them back, a display of sadness at this point would only incense Findarato (how had she managed to so misspeak that she had angered him this badly?) and Aikanáro further. She hung her head, wondering briefly if their joy had for Celeborn also been forced to fade into despair, "I did not mean it that way," she said softly, turning from them, "And you know I am not helpless."

[Curufin]

Findaráto went to her, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him. His grip on her shoulders was tighter than he meant it, and he loosened it slightly. His jaw was set in anger, an expression few had ever seen on his face.

'Why?? Why have you done this?? I do not understand you, or your reasoning. You do not contact me for a month, and then come to me wiht this news. Did you not trust me? You have always sought my counsel before, and you know that I would have been glad to give it. Have I ever not been?'

He raised one hand and brushed her hair behind one ear.

'I am glad that you have found love, my sister, it is truly all that I could have wished for you. But the way you have gone about it...' He closed his eyes and shook his head. 'It is not the way of our people to rush into marriage, and as Aikanáro says, marriage in such uncertain times is unwise. Do you wish to suffer my heartbreak, being sundered indefinitely from the one you love? For although our lives will last as long as Arda, one of our kindred, being slain, returns eventually to the Blessed Realm, while we remain here, banished.'

He sighed, running his hands through his hair in a nervous gesture that he had not used since childhood. He took a deep breath, and for a moment his eyes were far distant, before he returned, a bit calmer, but no less pleased, his voice a bit flat.

'Amárië chastises me for being too harsh, and for being too protective. She gives her blessing.'

It was clear from his tone that he did not agree.

'How did I fail my family so badly?' he asked miserably.

He sat heavily on a chair, burying his face against his knees, and covering his head with his hands, for once unsure of what to do, and feeling lost.

[Willow Oran]

"Failed?" Galadriel rushed to kneel beside him, "No, Findaráto, no, you have failed no one. Hear me fully. I did not avoid your counsel, for I know that had we asked, you would have given your blessing.

But, had we asked, it would not have been only you whose blessing or censure we invited, and there are many among our kin who would wholly disapprove, and then not only I would be dishonored in their eyes for marrying him, you would also be so for granting permission.

Celeborn faced a similar situation in Doriath, thus we decided to beg
pardon rather than permission, for at least now none who object can prevent us."

She rested her forehead against his and took his hands, bringing them down between them, "As for the rest, I spoke the truth before. Brother, you have ever known me to take strange risks, be not amazed now but realize that I would rather know, if he should die, that he waits there for me in the hope that our exile might be ended."

[Curufin]

Findaráto kissed her forehead tenderly, but his jaw did not completely relax, nor the darkness completely leave his eyes.

'That is a strange logic, sister. It seems to me that he could have waited for you just as easily were you not married.'

He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

'I am dissapointed, sister. Dissapointed that you did not trust me enough to come to me with this, for I do not accept your excuse in that matter. Who is to condemn you for marrying the man you love, or me for allowing it? The Eldar know that our hearts choose who they will, and that the match of our fëa is not one we decide for ourselves. I believe that you knew what you were doing was wrong, and that was why you acted in such secrecy. If you did not fear the consequences, you would not have avoided them so.'

He sighed again, and kissed her hands, then stood, running his hands through his hair yet again, both at the same time. Then, tiredly motioning to both of his siblings, he exited the great hall, heading in the direction of his chambers.

'Come, it is best that we talk in private.'

Entering his chambers, he sat heavily in a padded chair.

'Speak, sister, tell us everything we were not told in the Great Hall. I want to hear all the details.'

[Willow Oran]

Galadriel took the chair nearest to his and sat slowly, repressing the sudden sensation of vertigo brought on by the long ride here with little pause for food or sleep and now the too rushed, emotional... she supposed it qualified as an argument now, such as she hadn't had with her eldest brother in centuries.
Taking a deep breath she thought back to the beginning of the tale, he wanted details, hm?

"First, my brothers," she said, "I will ask your forgiveness for doubting you. That was wrong of me and had I been thinking more carefully as regards our family, I would have seen just how much of a misjudgement it was. Now for the rest:
The last letter I wrote to you was sent from Hithlum, for I was visiting there at the time and that is where this starts.
You know that though I have dwelt mainly in Doriath, as a student of Melian's, these past years I have made it habit to periodically visit our Uncle and cousin at Hithlum. This year, because of the mounting dangers on the road, Melian insisted Celeborn accompany me as a protector and, I suspect, as an eye on Fingolfin's court.
He and I have long been close friends, we had spoken of engagment, but not yet committed and to eachother's company we had no objection, until reaching Hithlum.
I would not say that our Uncle blamed Doriath when he heard of Aredhel's disappearance, but that event has certainly put more strain on the relations between him and Thingol than there was previously.
Not a day after I sent you the letter saying I had arrived there safely, the High King, through some gossip, caught wind of the fact that Celeborn and I were of a mind to become engaged and brother, if there is any among are kin who can disapprove and act on it, it is he.
He ordered that Celeborn leave, very insultingly, and forbid me to return to Doriath. You may guess my reaction to that!
We left that night and would have come here, but we did not know if you had been sent messangers, and if you had, what light they would have presented us in.
Even now, hearing that we are lawfully, if not honorably, wedded by mutual decision, you ordered our brother to hunt him down.
If Fingolfin had sent you word that we had run away together and made it sound as though Celeborn were a villain what welcome could I have expected for us?
We wedded on the outskirts of Doriath and while you say that it was rash and foolish in these times I love him well, once accepted we together form a strong political alliance, and now, even should he die, I have a measure of independence from the commands and prejudices of our kinsmen which I did not have unwed."
She finished defiantly and sat back in her chair, waiting for her brothers to respond, and hoping that she would not again have to re-form her argument.

[Curufin]

Findaráto was quiet for some time, staring thoughtfully into the opposite wall, letting her words and their meaning make their full impact. When finally he spoke, he had regained control of his emotions, although his displeasure was still evident.

'I suppose there is little good to be found in displaying our displeasure, as it is clear that it matters little to you. You have always been obstinant and convinced of the superiority of your own opinion, and I doubt at this late date that the counsel of an elder brother would have any effect. I would not have stood in the way of your marriage had you gone about it in an honourable way. I might have spoken to you of my concern, but you know I would not forbid you to do something you dearly wished to do. But as your brother, and the patriarch of this family, I should have been given that honour. But there is nothing to be done for it now. You are married, and the Eldar have not the ability to turn back the hand of time.'

He pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

'You are, of course, welcome to say. In fact I shall be offended even more if you do not stay for at least a fortnight.'

Findaráto rose tiredly, for once feeling his years.

[Willow Oran]

"Yet your displeasure does matter and you approval even more," Galadriel said softly, also rising, "Or I would have informed you the cowards way, by letter, or not at all. I will stay here as long as I am welcome, at least until I know that Celeborn has returned from the Dreadful Valley alive. When he seeks me here, will you welcome him as a kinsman? Assure me either yea or nay and I will go to rest."

[Curufin]

'I am not certain I can give you my approval, or my assurance that I can love Celeborn as kin. I could, of course, say the words to please you, but I do not believe that is what you would want. I can, however, give you my acceptance. I may little like your decision, and dislike your tactics any more, but it is of no use to me to deny that it is legal, and it is done.'

Findaráto looked deeply exhausted, in a way that was far more than physical. He looked as if the cares of the world were about to crush him beneath their weight.

[Willow Oran]

Little though Galadriel liked to leave her brother looking so while knowing it was largely her fault, she knew that there was nothing she could say now that might relieve his mind.

"Findaráto," she said, rising, "Aikanáro. I am going to rest now. Aikanáro, do not let our brother weary himself further this night-"

She stopped, though for a moment it seemed as if she might say more, and then left, touching each of them lightly on the arm as she did.

Long though it had been since she had dwelt in Nargothrond, she had no doubt that Findaráto would have kept her quarters exactly as she had left them and when she reached them, she smiled, briefly, to see that it was so.
Closing the door softly, Galadriel crossed the room and collapsed on the bed, finally allowing exhaustion to take hold.
Yet the room seemed to breed restlessness in her. This was wrong. She should not be alone here, alone the bed seemed too soft, too big, as if it might swallow her and the rest of the room was no better. Had she really been the one to choose the bright brocades, to carve those unsubtle reliefs?
Galadriel shivered, everywhere, remenants of Artanis and here, as it had been in Hithlum, as it had been everywhere, they threatened to crush her.
She had not told her brothers that. She could not.
That hurried, blissful week, when they had been alone in Brethil... she had felt able to breathe then and now she longed for Celeborn to return in hopes that with his presence she would recover that feeling of freedom that had brought forth Galadriel.

For the present... this room had to change.

A frenzy of furious rearrangment later and the now-unadorned walls glimmered almost grey, the flecks of quartz throughout the rock of the ceiling reflected the single candle she had left lit, giving a poor, primative imitation of stars and stretched out on the thick rug, with the floor firm beneath and a single blanket over her, she could pretend enough to sleep.

[Curufin]

Findaráto sat alone in his room for some time, his arms crossed across his chest, staring at the pile of parchments and books on his desk. His golden hair had fallen loose around his face - still a youthful face but for the depth and wisdom in his eyes - and without thinking he reached up and pulled a small silver locket on a chain around his neck out from under his tunic, and lifted it to his lips, kissing it softly, then clasping it tightly in his hand. He closed his eyes, his memories returning to that day...

Tirion was in chaos. The darkness was oppressive, and unlike anything they had ever known. Weapons were being prepared, partings were being made, tears were being shed. There was sorrow in the Blessed Realm to an extent that just a few years before had seemed impossible. Yet while other wives had wept and begged their spouses not to go, he remembered Amárië standing silently behind his mother as he had embraced Earwen.

Amárië. She had been so strong that day, standing there, holding back the tears, making him proud. He could see her sorrow in her eyes, but she did not weep. After he was done embracing his mother, she had stepped forward, and put her tiny, delicate hands in his, looking up at him.

'My Findaráto,' she had said softly, her voice holding strong in spite of her emotions.

'Beloved Amárië,' he had replied. 'I - '

She had covered his mouth gently with her hand, then moved it to run her fingers through his hair.

'The time for words is past.'

And then she had put the locket - containing a lock of her hair - around his neck, where it had remained.

'Go, my love. Your father awaits.'

And she had stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

'Inye harya estel an elva melmë, Findaráto. Á harya estel!'

And then she had let him go, and he had left, not looking back, for he knew that if he had, he never would have been able to leave her there...

The candle was burning low when Findaráto finally left his memories behind. He stood, pacing his room. Was he right to condemn what his sister had found? Should he not simply be happy for her? For Artanis and Aikanáro both?

And yet...

And yet?

Aikanáro, perhaps, had found himself in a terrible situation, one for which he had no comforting words. To marry one of the Atani...he knew there was no precedent, and knew through vague foresight that such a match could only occur for reasons of the highest Doom.

But Artanis -

She had found love.

Continuing to pace, he remembered the years in Tirion, those few precious years when he had woke every morning to see Amárië gazing at him, and had fallen asleep holding her safe in his arms. They were brief, but in that brief time he had lived several lifetimes of joy. Could he begrudge that to a beloved sister? Could he be angry that her fëa had found its match? He remembered when he had first seen Amárië at his grandfather's palace at Alqualondë, accompanying her mother, a singer. He could no more have resisted those feelings than he could have stopped breathing.

Artanis was not to blame for who she chose to fall in love with. It was a horrible time, but that was not her choice, either. And there was always hope that they could be happy.

Á harya estel!

Sighing, he remembered his reaction with disgust. He had reacted like a child, a foolish child who thought more of the insult dealt him than his sister's feelings. He would have to apologize.

He glanced at a clock on the wall.

She would likely still be awake.

Hurrying down the chambers to her room, he rapped softly on the door.

'Artanis, it is Findaráto,' he said more gently than before. 'May I speak with you?'

[Willow Oran]

'Artanis, it is Findaráto,' he said more gently than before. 'May I speak with you?'

Galadriel was curled in the middle of the floor and on the verge of a restless sleep when Findaráto's gentle call brought her blinking back into the waking world.

She didn't answer, but sat up, staring at the door as though it was no barrier at all between Findaráto and her glare. She would not answer to that name, could not, anymore than she could sleep in a room designed for it.

'Galadriel!' she thought fiercely, 'You may enter when you call me by name.'

[Curufin]

Findaráto knocked again, a bit more firmly this time.

'Sister, are you within? I hope that we might speak.'

[Aikanáro]

Aikanáro had returned to Findaráto's chambers when asked, but to his sister he had said not another word since her outburst over her name, simply listened to the explanations she gave them, to Findaráto's dismayed responses. It was better that he did not interrupt, he told himself, for he could not trust himself to keep his temper, and that would surely serve only to make matters worse.

Her husband he might be, but Celeborn would have no kinsman's welcome from him, not with the way they had gone about this. There was Findaráto, his soft words at odds with the strain evident in him, the weariness in his eyes. He took this upon himself, Aikanáro supposed, though there was nothing any of them could have done to predict or to prevent it.

He watched, then, his frown deepening as his disapproval grew. Artanis spoke of independence, and that he did not understand, for she was as free as any of them, and a new name or taking a spouse did not release her from what she owed her kin by right and by custom. She would realize this soon enough, he hoped. It was a folly, to place too much faith in symbols. When he had first called himself Aegnor, in the Sindarin fashion, did it make him other than what he was? Not at all, he reckoned, but this too he said nothing of.

It was only when Artanis addressed him directly that he muttered, 'It will not be my doing if he does, sister,' and again gave her a dark look, as if he was half in mind to hunt down Celeborn anyway, regardless of Findaráto's change of heart. But then she left them, and to his brother Aikanáro said, 'She is right in one thing, and one only, that we ought to converse no longer tonight, we are both in need of rest.' Everything else could wait.


As it happened, though, Aikanáro could find no rest either that evening, for his brother's words and the thought of Andreth kept him wakeful, and so he walked again through the dimly-lit halls, deep in contemplation of both his own situation and his sister's, and finding no answers.

[Willow Oran]

'Sister, are you within? I hope that we might speak.'

Galadriel hesitated. He sounded as though he might have been willing to apologize... if she angered him again through stubborness he might stay angry even longer. She would not take that chance.

Standing, she faced the door, 'It is unlocked, Findaráto," she replied, sighing, 'Come in.'

[Curufin]

Findaráto entered, and clasped his hands behind his back. Before he had a chance to say anything, however, the words stuck in his throat as he surveyed the 'changes' she had made to the room. Findaráto quite liked order and neatness, and the chaos that seemed to have overtaken her room disturbed him.

'What has happened to your room? Did you do this? Why?'

[Willow Oran]

Galadriel blushed, realizing what the room must look like to his eyes, and nodded, "I couldn't sleep," she said, hoping he wouldn't ask further, "It was too bright."

[Curufin]

'Too bright?' he raised an eyebrow. 'Artanis, I live in a cave.'

Shaking his head, he seated himself in the chair at her desk and looked at her.

'I should have not been so harsh on you in there. However, it was thoughtless of you not to let your family know before such a thing occurred.' He paused, as if trying to decide how to word the next bit.

'I am happy that you have found love. Love is a precious thing, and to be treasured when it is found.' He hesitated. 'But finding love does not change who you are. You want us to call you by this new name, and that is well. But as our brother said, that doesn't change your integral identity. Is Felagund different from Finrod or Findaráto? If I started using the Ñoldorin Quenya version of my name, Artafindë, it still would not change who I am. It is the same for you, Artanis. You may favour this new name, and in time Aikanáro and I will likely use it. But you cannot insist that we throw away thousands of years of habit in a few moments. You are our sister Artanis, and you must not be offended if we call you that. We knew you long before your husband did, and deserve at least the respect of that kinship.'

After a pregnant pause, he continued.

'But the most important part, sister, is that I love you dearly, and always shall, and you know that I cannot stay angry at you for long, no matter what your crime may be.'

[Willow Oran]

Galadriel relaxed, letting go of the anger she had been clutching to her as one would a shield, as she listened to her brother. This speech, full of gentle philosophy rather than anger, was Findaráto's and it soothed her thoughts into greater clarity.

Sitting down on the bed she pondered her reply, for she had assigned the change in her name greater value than perhaps it deserved, yet though her brother's argument made sense, it did not override her own feelings on the matter.
"I will not be angry," she said finally, "If you call me Artanis, so long as it is from fond habit, and not from spite. However, Galadriel will endure far past Artanis..." This last had a slight ring of foresight and Galadriel trailed off, looking down at the floor, "It may be," she continued softly, "That Galadriel will be all I have left of love soon, for as I told you, Celeborn was called away unforseen to fight the Children of Ungoliant in Nan Dungortheb, and Doriath had too few men to spare for such a mission. I fear they will be lost and I will be widowed after only a week."

[Curufin]

Which is why it would have been better to wait... Findaráto thought, but he did not voice his opinion.

'I see,' he said instead, steepling his hands. 'I hope for your sake that he returns safely. There has been too much misery for the Eldar in recent times, and I do hope that it will spare you.'

He paused, looking at her for a long, searching moment.

'Are you happy in your marriage, sister? Do you truly love this Celeborn? I do not know why you did not speak fondly of him before, and I feel remiss that I did not know long ago.'

He smiled at her fondly.

'You knew of my love for Amárië before I did myself.'