Numberless as the Wings of Trees by Laurëalúmë  

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Chapter I. Aman Marred

Galadriel returns to Aman at the end of the Third Age and finds it much changed, just as she has changed since she left. There she is reunited with many figures from her past. 

Water is my element, from my mother's Telerin blood. Earth is the element of the Noldor, steady and unyielding. Fëanor and his people were as unyielding as adamant in their pride, Fingolfin and his as steady as stone in their resolve. Water is wayward, ever moving, ever changing. At times it is as hard and cold as the Helcaraxë, brilliant as the everlasting snow upon the slopes of Oiolossë, clear and gentle as the Celebrant, or dark and wrathful as the waves that drowned Beleriand and Númenor.

In my youth in the Blessed Realm, I often left Tirion to dwell among my mother's kin in Alqualondë. There my days were spent sailing on the starlit bay with my Telerin cousins, even as far as the dark side of Eressëa, which the light of the Trees did not touch. We never ventured out of sight of the Lonely Isle but would gaze eastward over the vastness of the open sea. One could see farther from the peaks of the Pelóri, but it was the horizon seen from the prow of a ship that stirred my heart. What was to stop us from going farther, even to Middle-earth, to see with our own eyes the great sleeping forests that our grandfathers had crossed long ago? 

As children, we gathered around Imin, Tata, and Enel, revered forefathers of the Eldar, and listened to their tales of the perils of the wide lands over the sea. In the earliest days, when the Quendi dwelt by Cuiviénen, those who ventured far from its shores rarely returned, and great shadows in the shape of fearsome beasts rose at times from the horizon, hiding the stars. Then a horn would echo off the hills like thunder, and the shadows would depart for a time. Not without reason did the Eldar undertake the long and treacherous journey across Middle-earth, the old ones would caution. Middle-earth was dangerous, and only in Aman, under the protection of the Valar, could we live in peace.

Yet had not half of the Teleri remained in the westernmost regions of the outer lands, seafarers among them? Surely, had calamity befallen, some at least would have escaped and come into the West. If they had endured, then Middle-earth must surely be safe enough for us to join them there for a time. We could always return home.                              

Having gone as far east as the ruling of the Eldar permitted, I would at other times make the long and quiet journey westward across Valinor, over the hills that bordered the plain of Valimar and through vast, quiet forests softly lit by the distant light of the Trees, until I came to the dim shores of the Outer Sea. It was held by the Eldar that, in later days, the spirits of Men departed from that strand to the Door of Night and passed out of Arda, never to return. The dark waters of Ekkaia could not bear elven ships, and so its eastern edge was, for us, the margin of the world. I would sojourn in the house of Nienna, where those who desired quiet might spend their days in contemplation. The Maidens of Nienna, Maiar and Vanyar, took vows of chastity, wore gray hooded robes, and rarely visited Eldamar. Before the great departure, few Noldor joined that order, but later, as I would learn, many of those who remained in Aman turned to Nienna in their grief, among them my aunts Nerdanel, wife of Fëanor, and Anairë, wife of Fingolfin. From the windows of that echoing house, I would gaze upon the Walls of the World beyond the water and listen to the music of Ulmo as it rose from the depths. 

Still other times, I would visit the gardens of Lórien in the full radiance of the Trees. There, at the mingling of the lights, I would bathe my feet in the lake of Estë and lie beneath the willows on its grassy banks. Strange dreams would come to me of a handsome elf lord, tall and silver-haired, and of a dark-haired elf woman lying on a bed of faded mallorn leaves in a forest withered by winter. 

 

Seven thousand years later, from the prow of a swan ship, I looked out over the black expanse of Belegaer. Ages of sea-longing in Middle-earth, faint at first but ever stronger, were sated at last. It was night, and the stars were hidden by thick clouds from which a gentle rain fell, but I paid no heed. Soon the storms of Vista would give way to the clarity of Ilmen, and I wished to breathe the rich inner air while I could. 

It will not be long now. Mithrandir approached and stood beside me in silence, resting a hand on the smooth white neck of the swan. 

I remember it as it was, I replied. That memory has sustained me through the numberless years. 

That memory will never fade, child. The ages have turned the Trees to stone, the Pelóri cast long shadows at daybreak, many Noldor wait in Mandos, and the Blessed Realm will never again be as it was. Yet the mellyrn of Oromë and the elanor of Vána will not die while the world lives, nor will the snow upon Oiolossë melt. 

I, too, have changed. 

As have I, he replied, and we laughed aloud. Artanis was the least princess of the Noldor. Galadriel the ring-bearer is the greatest elf that lives. 

The light of the Ring of Water has been quenched, I thought, brandishing Nenya.  When I declined the Master Ring, I lost all desire for power. I will mourn for Lothlórien until the End, but my only desire now is the least place among my people at the feet of the Powers.

These many centuries, I have grown to love Middle-earth, thought Mithrandir, not least the little land of the hobbits, but even as I crowned Aragorn and bequeathed my task to his line, my concern for the wide lands and those that dwell there ceased. I exist, after all, to serve the will of Eru, and my labor was finished. Yet in the hearts of you Quendi, save perhaps the Vanyar, there will always abide a love for the land of your awakening. With the passing of the Elves and the dominion of Men, Middle-earth as it was shall cease to be, and yet shall live in memory and song in Eldamar forever. His dark eyes twinkled as he turned toward me. Lothlórien will never truly die, child. 

"You begin to remember your former self, Olórin," I said aloud, returning his smile, "if you would call me child." Then I sensed it, a mighty movement of water beneath the ship. Slowly, imperceptibly to the eye, the great body of the sea began to fall away below us.

"It is beginning," I said. "The halflings should be woken." 

 

Gildor, Glorfindel, and others had gathered at the prow when Mithrandir returned with Elrond and the two hobbits. The old one held a cane in one hand and Mithrandir's hand in the other as he tottered across the deck. Frodo's hands held the crystal phial I had given him on the banks of the Anduin and the jewel given to him by Arwen beneath the White Tree in Minas Tirith. The pain of his wounds was still upon him, if ever fainter the farther we drew into the West, as was the mark of the abomination he had borne.

Far below us, the waters were parting ways, the deeps bending with the earth and the shallows lifting away from it, bearing the ship aloft.  Then, just as the first rays of dawn lit the rain behind us, we plunged into the clouds that had been overhead and could see naught but a wall of mist like silver glass. The mariners ceased their rowing and their steering as the tide of memory bore us ever forward and upward. The air was sweet, and a hopeful and mournful music like an echo of the Ainulindalë itself, could be heard across the water, not with our ears, but in our hearts.  At last, the silver curtain rolled back and we beheld afar a sight I had ached for: white shores and, beyond them, the snow-crowned peaks of the Holy Mountain glowing red in the sunrise. The sea was calm and the stars were fading in the rose-hued sky behind us. After long ages of bitter sorrow and gladness in Middle-earth, I was home. 

I turned to Elrond and saw my joy reflected in his eyes. We both loved the one who waited for us on those shores. Mithrandir's eyes shone with the youth of Olórin; soon his spirit would be freed from the agèd body that had imprisoned it for milennia. He glanced down at the hobbits, on whose shoulders his hands rested. They stared in wonder, their eyes wide and mouths agape.

"Behold the blessed land of Aman," said Mithrandir. I smiled down at Frodo. Beside the glory of the Powers, hobbits were so very little. 

 

Aman was indeed changed. Whereas before, light had streamed through the Calacyria from within Valinor and bordered the peaks of the Pelóri, now the Sun shone from without and the pearl beaches of Elendë gleamed like snow in the daylight as we passed the Isle of Eressëa and came to berthe in Alqualondë. Swift Telerin ships sailed out to greet us and many elves had gathered on the quays to see which long-sundered loved ones our ship might bring. There was Olwë my grandfather, Eärwen my mother, Finarfin my father, and with them Celebrían my daughter, whole and healed of her torment. Sweet and bitter were the tears that she and Elrond shed as they embraced, for the gladness of their reunion and the sorrow of their parting from Arwen. The hobbits were made much of, and when we had rested, a great feast was held in my grandfather's halls to honor us. The next day, a procession bore us into the Calacyria and up the green slopes of Túna. Then we entered white Tirion, city of my birth, and climbed its crystal stairs to the Mindon Eldaliéva, beneath which ancient Galathilion still flowered, fairest of living trees. There we were met by Fingolfin, resurrected, to whom my father had relinquished his rule of the Noldor, and with him were Fingon, Gil-galad, Aredhel, Turgon, Elenwë, Idril, and the man Tuor. There also were my brothers: Orodreth with his daughter Finduilas, Angrod and Aegnor, and, dearer than all the rest, Finrod, his eyes shining with gentle love and wisdom. With him was Amarië. Yet Finwë my grandfather was not among them, for he waited still with Fëanor and his sons in Mandos.

For three days we dwelt in the city as guests of the king, feasting, embracing, and telling tales of the intervening years - all save Olórin, who departed whither I could guess.  At sundown on the third day, a herald came from Valimar bearing a summons, for the Great Ones desired to look upon the ring-bearers who had rendered such service to the Kingdom of Arda. The hobbits could not endure the sheer climb up Taniquetil, and so we were to set out at dawn for the Ring of Doom. 

As we rode through the western gates of Tirion, the green plains, hills, and wooded valleys of Valinor stretched before us in their beauty. Never before had I seen the Land of the Valar as it now appeared, lit from on high. In my youth, light had always radiated outward from the midst of the land, the beams of Laurelin shining between the trunks of trees, or through leaves and blades of grass, casting long striped shadows. The light waxed, waned, and changed hue, but always from the same direction. Now the shadows danced from west to east as the Sun steered her course. She had begun her descent when we spied the golden roofs of Valimar. In that twilit moment, I recalled the mingling of the lights. Then I beheld them, Telperion and Laurelin, black and withered! The dignity and grace of their shape remained, slowly turned to stone as Mithrandir had said, but where before they had thrummed with joyful light, their branches bearing leaves and blossoms of shimmering silver and gold, now they stood silent and stark against the sky, their branches ending suddenly where they had broken and fallen away. I grieved, thinking of the fate of the mallorn trees in far Lothlórien.

The first stars appeared as we approached the Mahanáxar. Many Maiar and Vanyar had gathered on the green mound of Ezellohar. In their midst, arrayed in majesty upon their thrones, the Valar beamed at the approaching hobbits, their eyes shining with love. Beside the throne of Manwë stood Olórin, freed from his body but clothed in the guise of Gandalf. His eyes were tender. Elrond coaxed Frodo forward and knelt beside him, while a seat was brought for Bilbo. I, too, knelt, overcome, my head bowed to the earth. 

"Rise, Frodo Baggins of the fair land of the Shire," said Manwë, "tall among the heroes of the Children of Eru. Long have I watched you from afar and desired our meeting. For your courage and endurance in the fulfillment of your quest, for the burden and hardship you took upon yourself for the sake of Middle-earth, you have our thanks. Hear, Ainur and Eldar! One of the Periannath, accounted humble among the races of Arda, by his humility defeated the power of Mordor when the mighty could not. For what you have done, all Aman shall honor you. And you, Bilbo Baggins, for your part in the tale, are welcome also. It was by more than chance that the abomination came to you, that your kinsman might inherit it." 

"The shadow and the pain of that evil remain upon you both," said Varda. "From here you shall go to the gardens of Lórien, there to find rest and be healed by the care of Estë. Yet none of the Secondborn may long endure the light of the Blessed Realm, and so you shall dwell among the Eldar on Eressëa, within sight of the mountain of Manwë, until the end of your days."

"And you, Olórin," said Manwë, "for the love you bear them, shall dwell there also until that time." Olórin bowed his head and winked at the Hobbits.   

"Elrond, son of Eärendil," said Mandos, "two ages have passed since your father stood upon this mound and pleaded for the deliverance of Elves and Men in Middle-earth. You have known loss: the loss of your father and mother in the tender years of your youth, the loss of your guardians, and the loss of your wife. Greater than these are the loss of your brother and of your daughter beyond the Circles of the World. Yet know this: by Arwen's choice, Elros's line is renewed, a parting gift of the elder kindred to the younger, and the spring of the Age of Men shall be long and green. Rightly was she named Undómiel, for never again shall elven child be seen in Middle-earth. Yet the children of Elessar and Undómiel, and their children's children, shall be fair and wise.   

"Maedhros son of Fëanor remains in my halls, and Maglor shall fade, as must all Elves that remain in mortal lands. Yet you have found your wife in Aman, and your mother waits in her tower by the sea, where, at times, your father rests from his watch."

Elrond bowed reverently.

"We would look next upon she who is called the Lady of Light," said Varda.  I found that I could not raise my head and remained prostrated.

"Artanis." Hearing the oldest of my names pronounced with tenderness by her holy voice, I looked up into the light of her face, purer and more ancient than the stars.

"Did you think I could not hear when you sang to me in longing and regret beside the Celebrant," she asked, "or that I hear not all who invoke my many names? Greatest of the Eldar remaining in Middle-earth, you rejected our pardon and second summons, thinking instead to rule a realm of your own among the Moriquendi. For this, your ban was renewed. And yet, was it not thus that you could aid the Fellowship of the Ring long ages later?"

"And thou, Melkor, wilt discover all the secret thoughts of thy mind," said Ulmo, "and wilt perceive that they are but a part of the whole and tributary to its glory. The latent fruit of your pride was the safeguarding of Middle-earth. At your prompting, not ours, was the White Council formed and the effort against Sauron directed."

"Few in Middle-earth," said Aulë, "could have wielded a ring of power as you and young Elrond did to preserve the strength of the Eldar until Men were ready to inherit Arda."

"And in renouncing the abomination, your pride was cured," said Mandos. "We perceive clearly that you were meant to remain in Middle-earth until the dark power was vanquished. You are forgiven." 

"Yet you have changed, daughter of Eärwen," said another voice, and I looked into the green eyes of Yavanna. "Was I not there when you took your first steps upon the grass of Túna and when you planted your first tree? The Valar love all the Children of Eru, even those who stray into darkness, yet there are those whom each loves most, even as Olórin loves these halflings. Many times I ascended Taniquetil, and my eyes sought for you, but I have not the sight of Manwë, and the sea between us was veiled in mist. Nerwen, Man Maiden, you were named by your mother's kin, for your stature of body and mind. The numberless years, the teaching of our cousin Melyanna, and the power of your ring raised you above all the Eldar, so that you seem to Elves and Men as one of the Maiar. Yet you are not a maia, but an elf only, shorn of your ring's power. Will you find contentment here in Aman?"  Her words brought tears of love and shame to my eyes.

"I desire the least place in the Blessed Realm," I said. "Often were you in my thoughts, Kementári. When winter withered Doriath and Lórien, how I yearned for your undying grass. The Elessar stone that you sent to me by Olórin's hand I bequeathed in turn to the King of Men, that he and his descendants may always see Arda as it was in the Elder Days." 

"Then it was well given," said Yavanna, "to him and to you." 

"The hour grows late for weary hobbits," said Manwë, smiling. "A dwelling has been prepared for you in Valimar, and tomorrow you shall enter Lórien. Farewell, Bilbo and Frodo Baggins. We shall not meet again, but I will watch over you from Ilmarin."  

 

Chapter End Notes

In the next chapter, Galadriel visits the Gardens of Lórien and meets a familiar face. Together, they tie loose threads and contemplate the fate of loved ones left behind in Middle-earth. 

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