Narn Gil-galad by Earonn

---

Chapter 20: The War of Wrath I: Decisions

 

Curtsy: to the Ladies of restless beta-Balrogs: Ute, Mistress of (ex-)Useless Kiwis, and Fymhrisfawr-the-still-Unpronounceable. And to Vorondis for making the whole chapter(s) about the War of Wrath possible – for reasons I've explained in the 2nd A/N at the end of this chapter.

Dedicated: to all who crossed fingers for my exam.

OOO

A/N

Dear readers, please forgive me the break. Some of you know that I had to take an exam (for the Germans: the Abitur), therefore much learning had to be done. Now I'm very happy to continue the Narn – if only because Gilly recently started to kick me as often as I put my legs under the desk…

I'm well aware that the Elves in Aman talk Quenya. For the sake of legibility I've decided not to mark this in any way. All I did was to use the familiar (Sindarin) form of names in the text and the Quenya form in speech and thought. A list of both forms is given at the end of the chapter.

Vorondis: I didn't know about your feelings for Aegnor (though I should have guessed – he's everybody's darling, isn't he? g). But unfortunately rather under-represented, as well as the 'just wise shipwright with a beard'. Círdan is probably the most promising aspirant for the "most unjustly ignored Elf-award". I don't know why, perhaps evil fanfic-author(esse)s don't like bearded guys?
And you're absolutely right about Uinen's girl power.

---

 

XX – Decisions

The sound of rain against the glass was soothing in Maglor's ears.
He sat on a low bench beside a window, engrossed in the crumpled sheet of paper in his hands and smiling in silent amusement. The text was written by an untrained hand still searching for its own style, more painting then actually writing the letters. At three points a little bit of ink was smeared over the parchment. Still the message surpassed the writer's calligraphic abilities by far.
'So young and yet so bright, though he does not even know how to express what he wants to say,' Maglor thought with that proud shimmer in his eyes he always unconsciously adopted when it came to his young foster-brothers. Bright and clever, fine boys they were, just as Ambarussa had been, merry and full of mischief. Diligent students as well as diligent troublemakers.
This text Elrond had given him the night before. The young Half-elf had been nervous and self-conscious but at the same time determined to let his work be judged by the highest authority he accepted – and rightfully so, as Maglor was the most learned of Fëanor's seven sons.
It was a ballad, well worded and expressive, although young Elrond would not have understood had someone told him about the linguistic and literary figures he had used. This was a work fitting for the mind of a half-grown Elf – and the boy was merely eleven! (1)

Quick steps approached outside the study. Maglor hoped they would pass and leave him in his peaceful mood. But the door opened mercilessly and with a sigh he put the sheet aside.
An Elf entered the room, tall even for the measure of his people, overly slender and covered in dirt like Elros after playing in the rain. This man, however, had hardly jumped into puddles or built towers of mud. He was one of the border-guards and according to the expression on his face there was a problem at hand.
He bowed hastily. "My Lord, the High King – he is coming!"
Maglor rose quickly. "The High King? Here?"
"Less than a day beyond our frontiers. He wants to talk to you and the Lord Maedhros."

OOO

From the border of Maedhros' realm it was a rather pleasant ride to his fortress which lay concealed in a small valley close to the outermost foothills of the Ered Luin. Gil Galad looked up at the distant peaks, covered in snow and gleaming in the sun.
'One day I will cross these mountains', he suddenly thought with an almost frightening certainty. Not for a visit to his aunt Galadriel, there would be another reason, grave, important – but as yet veiled.

Around midday dark clouds gathered and a heavy rain poured down. Soon the High King and his companions – Argon with ten Noldorin warriors as his guard and three of Maedhros' sentries – were completely soaked.

Late in the afternoon Maglor and his distant nephew met for the first time after more than a hundred years.
The son of Fëanor eyed the arrivals closely. The young Elf he once had known was not an unimportant descendant of the House of Finarfin any longer but the High King of the Noldor, and it was said that a great part of the Western Sindar followed him, too. (2) Though Maglor could not fathom why they should take Gil Galad as a leader instead of choosing one of their own kin. Especially as this pitiful young Elf, wet to the bone and stained with the dirt of a long journey, was so unlike all his predecessors and surely resembled their sire Finwë not in the least.
But something had changed since their last meeting on Tol Sirion. Maglor could feel it, sensed it in the very fëa of his visitor. The pain in his nephew's eyes had not been there back then, nor the regret. But likewise neither the determination nor the self assurance acquired in years of leadership.
'He has been hardened by experience.' he thought. 'On Tol Sirion he was more like his father. Has he simply grown up and developed his natural dispositions? Or has his character been changed by circumstance and requirement? What would you be like, Finellach, if you could have lived in the peace of the Blessed Realm?'

Wiping the rain from his face, Gil Galad took a step forward and bowed.
"Greetings, Maglor son of Fëanor."
The tone of his voice made it an insult rather than a greeting.
"And to you, Finellach," Maglor replied equally coolly, thinking by himself, 'Do not expect me to honour you with the title of the High King.'
Some stablehand led the horses away and took care of the visitors' luggage, others handed them towels. Gil Galad dried his dark hair with a careless movement. He understood only too well what had been said – and what had not. All right then, the tension between the eldest and the youngest branch of the House of Finwë had been satisfied.
"We have to talk," he replied evenly. "Is your brother somewhere around?"
"He is not, or he would have come to greet you as is proper."
A mockingly raised brow. "How would I know? Perhaps the 'half-Sinda', as some of your brothers used to express it, is beneath his dignity. When will he return?"
"We don't expect him back this month." Maglor answered, looking over the High King's guard. He received a stern look from Argon who did not trust the sons of Fëanor at all and had most vehemently spoken against this visit. Yet Maglor did not care for this young, unknown warrior, he searched for a familiar face.
"Celebrimbor has not accompanied you?"
"No. Ever since Celegorm's words at Nargothrond he has not known if he was still allowed to call himself a member of your family. He feared to come all the way just to be refused, I think."
"Maedhros never intended anything like that." A sigh. "We should have told him."
"Yes. And persuade Curufin to send at least a message before it was too late."
"I know," Maglor replied seriously. "He is well?"
At the sound of regret and genuine care in the other's voice the High King's face softened.
"As well as one can be in these times. He asked me to give you his greetings, in case they were appreciated."
"They are. Oh yes, they are." He gestured towards the hall. "Come inside, this is no place to talk."

In the study they were welcomed by a pleasant fire. The High King looked around, then walked to the huge desk and sat down with a sigh. He took one of the countless sheets of music scattered all over the tabletop and studied it for a while.
"This is a beautiful song."
"Thank you. Had I known the purpose of your coming was composition, I would have invited some musicians."
Gil Galad chose to ignore the scoff. "You know its purpose," he replied without turning his gaze from the sheet. "Indeed, one could say that it is for family reasons. I have come for the boys."
He looked up, his face serious.
Hiding his true feelings behind a mocking smile, Maglor shook his head. "You do not expect me to give them back to you – just to have your soldiers here in Thargelion at once?"
"Don't be afraid of me, Maglor. Taking revenge will not bring back the dead of Arvernien. I won't waste the life of my warriors for such a reason."
This was a small surprise for Maglor who understood the calm character of Orodreth's son better than any of his brothers.
"Still I cannot send them back to Balar."
Gil Galad raised a brow. "You do not trust me?"
"Believe it or not – I do. But this is not a question of trust. Finellach, they are like brothers to me. Do you know what that means? Can you understand how it feels to receive a new sibling after you lost others? I have lost five, I cannot part from Elros and Elrond anymore, they are too dear to me."
Memories of a young girl peeping from under a wide coat. Huge grey eyes looking up at him, thin arms stretching to reach around his neck. A second little sister. Oh Elwing...
"I do understand, Maglor. I have loved Elwing as a sister, her sons have never been anything but nephews to me." His voice grew cold. "Still I cannot remember of having been asked before they were stolen from their home, their people and all they called family."
There was nothing his kinsman could have replied to this.

An uncomfortable silence followed. Gil Galad took a pen and restlessly turned it in his hands, watching the reflection of light on its silvery tip. He did not want to say it, still it had to be said. Finally he gave up and took a deep breath.
"Maglor, I am not trying to take them from you. Elros and Elrond carry the royal blood of both Noldor and Sindar. Should I die, they are the only ones who could so much as try to follow as my successors. Or our people will become leaderless like the Avari, shattered in tribes and little kingdoms. They are of unimaginable worth for our people and as you know, Balar is in great danger. I would rather have sent them to Galadriel but now they are here. As long as they are safe I can cope with it."
Maglor could not believe, he did not dare to believe what he had just heard.
"You want to let them stay?"
Gil Galad nodded.
"I just came to see them once again."
'So this is the irony of fate – that I have a reason to be grateful to Morgoth,' Maglor thought as he slowly nodded and walked towards the door to call for a servant.

A little later there was a rather shy knock at the door and led by one of their tutors, Elros and Elrond entered the room. As they saw the visitor, their faces lit up with joy.
"Uncle Finellach!" Elrond cried out and ran towards the High King, with Elros close behind him. Both did not even try to slow down their pace as they all but crushed into Gil Galad's embrace. He laughed and caught each of them in one arm.
"Elrond, Elros," he whispered while pressing his face into the boys' dark hair.

And at the same time when Gil Galad enjoyed the reunion with his nephews, far in the West Eärendil stepped before the Valar. In Máhanaxar, the Ring of Doom, he pleaded for the Two Kindreds, asked the Aratar's forgiveness for the Noldor and pity for the Edain, and he begged for help in their need.
Then Manwë was moved and he decided that war should be made against Morgoth again. And all the Valar rejoiced as they had felt compassion with Eru's Children for a long time already.
Only Aulë lowered his head and closed his eyes, and a single tear ran over his face. Because no one had pleaded for the Dwarves and it was not pity on his children which made the Valar turn against the Black Foe.

But all were glad to see at least one of the Silmaril again. And they marvelled at the sight of the Nauglamír to which the stone was still attached. This was one of the greatest works of the Dwarves and its beauty filled Aulë with joy and pride.

OOO

Soon Gil Galad left Thargelion again. Balar was under Círdan and Erestor's leadership and he trusted their wisdom, still sense of duty and concern for his people's safety called him back. The time left for him to spend with Elwing's children was too short anyway, no matter how many years it might last.

When he took his farewell from them, he also had to confess that most likely he would never have a chance to return. To his surprise, of the brothers it was Elros who reacted worst to the news.
"I do not want you to leave us forever, uncle. I want you back, you and mother and father!" he cried.
"Shhht," Maglor said and caressed Elros' hair in a futile attempt to comfort the boy.
Elrond, too, had tears in his eyes. But he was not as despaired as his brother. No matter what Finellach said, he had a strong feeling that they would meet again. And although Elros later called this wishful thinking, Elrond kept trusting in this premonition which had been sent, of that he was sure, by the One.

From the border of Maedhros' realm they were given guards to lead them on safe paths until the wall of Andram. One of them had belonged to the eighteen Elves that had remained on Balar after the destruction of Arvernien. He told Gil Galad about their welcome and the judgement spoken upon them.

On his way back home Gil Galad often pondered his decision. He had made it for the sake of Elros and Elrond's safety but had he the right to let them live with one of those who had killed their people? And did not Maglor also take advantage out of it, having found something Gil Galad wished to have himself again? A bond, not forged by blood nor by the union of the fëar but by free will and love alone. Why was Maglor rewarded for the atrocity of the Third Kinslaying with the love of two foster-brothers, while Gil Galad had lost Elwing forever?
'No,' the High King reprimanded himself. 'Do not begrudge him the affection he can get. His wife has chosen to remain in Aman, they will never meet again. And in the Hither Lands no one will ever love him, except for Maedhros and these children. Elrond and Elros will be safe and they will learn from one of the greatest of the Noldor. (3)
Oh Elwing, is it right? Would you agree? What is more important: to have them live with us who love them or with Maglor, safe but - but what? He loves them too, just as I have loved you, Elwing. Could you mistrust this love?'

Yet the doubts remained. Twice he was about to return and tell Maglor that he had changed his mind. And both times he restrained himself. No good companion was the High King during this journey, talking little and staring pensively into the fire every night.

Even his return brought no relief, for Gil Galad's decision to let Elros and Elrond remain in Maglor's care found little approval among the survivors of Arvernien.
"What did you expect me to do?" he rebuked those who complained. "You have asked me to take care of their safety and this I have done. Should an army be sent to bring back two children who do not even want to part from their present home? Maglor loves them and they return his feelings. What good would it bring to separate them from one they have accepted as a brother? Yes, I wish I could raise them myself, for Elwing's sons are dear to me. But not even for their sake will I start a war. And they will be safe there, a safety I cannot grant them."
Yet this matter caused a breach between the High King and the former inhabitants of the Havens, which would remain for years.

Elrond and Elros lived happily with Maglor and Maedhros in the woods of Thargelion. Together they often roamed around as free as the Avari and much did Eärendil's sons learn during these wanderings, many things they could not have learned anywhere else. Among those Eldar in Middle Earth who had seen the light of the Two Trees, Maglor and Maedhros were of the greatest, deep in lore and understanding. In these years Maglor also finished the greatest song of the Noldor, the Noldolantë, which tells of their fall and their doom.
Once they met wandering Nandor. With fascination Elrond listened to what they told him and his brother about plants, and when some years later he showed the gift of a healer, he was allowed to live with them for a while. In this time he learned much about herbs and healing, as no one knew more about this than the Laiquendi. (4)

OOO

While the Valar held council concerning the tidings Eärendil had brought, Elwing wandered along the coast of the Belegaer, her naked feet leaving faint prints in the shimmering sands. She felt forlorn without her beloved and she was frightened, not knowing the fate they might have to face.

At night she saw a soft glow over the dunes and following the direction, she came at length to the old haven of Alqualondë. There the Teleri looked upon her in wonder and awe, and she was brought before King Olwë.

"Be welcome in Valinor, child of the Outer Lands," Olwë said and bowed. He wore a wide, grey garment, adorned with ornaments of sea-creatures at its sleeves. Two clasps made of mother-of-pearl held his silver hair, his wide, grey eyes seemed to look into the far distance and, like it was frequent among the Teleri, in his voice sang the wind and the sea. "Please, tell us your name."
"My Lord, I am Elwing daughter of Dior who was the son of Lúthien of Doriath, the daughter…the daughter of your brother Elwë whom we call Thingol Greymantle." (5)
The people around murmured excitedly. Olwë stared at Elwing, remembrance and longing filling his eyes.
"You are a descendant of my brother Elwë, whom I lost so long ago? So be welcome again, niece." He stepped closer and embraced her, then held her at arm's length and affectionately studied her face. "Tell me, how does my brother fare in Middle Earth?"
"And how do our children fare?" Olwë's daughter Eärwen asked from behind. By chance she and her husband Finarfin dwelled at the court in Alqualondë at that time.
Elwing turned towards the High King and the Queen of all Noldor. Eärwen's hair bore the same colour as her father's and her eyes were of a shining grey. She wore a pale golden dress and apart from a circlet of dark silver on her brow her only jewellery was the golden ring on her finger. She was holding one of Finarfin's hands in a nervous grip, a look of anticipation on her lovely face. There was something in her expression Elwing recognised, the way she held her head, curious and questioning. She liked her from the first moment, yet was a bit at unease in the High King's presence. Finarfin looked exactly like the pictures she had seen on Balar. His hair was like spun gold, feathery-light, caught back by a small golden band, the crown of the Noldor. He wore the blue and silver of the Noldorin High Kings. His deep blue eyes looked at her friendly and full of peace, reassuring and wise, and his fëa was strong and clean like none she had ever sensed in the Hither Lands. But he was not like Gil Galad, not at all.
"Mylady, I came to know only one of them, Artanáro Finellach Gil Galad, the son of your grandson Artaher. He leads your people in Middle Earth."
Finarfin frowned. A son of Artaher being King of the Noldor, but that could only mean… Understanding the meaning of her words, he turned pale.
"My brothers…my sons…?"
And suddenly Elwing realized that the duty she had to fulfil in the Blessed Lands was no less difficult than her husband's.

The whole evening she spoke, telling the fascinated listeners all she knew about the deeds and sufferings of the Elves of the Hither Lands. And some felt pity for the Eldar and others said, at least the Noldor had not deserved any better after the First Kinslaying and all the other horrible deeds they had committed since their arrival in Middle Earth. Many Teleri asked Elwing for news about their friends and kin, and especially about Círdan who was known and dear to all of them. Patiently she assured them again and again that he had been well when last she had seen him.
Eärwen did not speak anymore, too great was her grief. All her sons, her beautiful, wonderful sons, dead! Findaráto killed by a werewolf, Angaráto and Aikanáro murdered by orcs, Artaher slain by a dragon and she could not even imagine any of these cursed creatures! Eldalotë frozen to death in the grinding ice of the Helcaraxë. And Artanis gone, maybe dead, too. What else had she to endure?
Then there was the touch of Finarfin's hand on her shoulder, warm and comforting.
"We have a great-grandson, love. At least one good came from Artaher's decision to accompany his brothers rather than to remain here."
For once his grandson Orodreth had spoken against Fëanor's call to leave Valinor and only out of love for his father and his uncles, Finrod in particular, had he left the Blessed Lands.

OOO

Long the Valar held council about Eärendil and Elwing who had set foot upon the shores of Valinor against the ban. And some said, they must not be allowed to return and others demanded that they should not be punished for their brave deed. Finally they allowed Elwing and Eärendil to choose their fate themselves. Then Eärendil bade his wife to decide for both of them. And Elwing wished to be counted among the Firstborn. For her sake Eärendil made the same choice, though he himself felt drawn towards the Secondborn.

The three mariners who had accompanied them, Falathar, Erellont and Aerandir, were given a new ship and sent out into the East and what became of them is not known. But later it was told by the seafaring folk of Numenór that they made their own choice never to return but forever crossed the waves of the Belegaer on the ship the Valar had given them, and they followed the storms to help those in peril.

Then Aulë took the Nauglamír and carefully he removed the Silmaril. And he was both joyful to touch the greatest work of his children and sad to diminish its beauty. The stone was bound to Eärendil's brow and Vingilot the Valar set into the skies. There Dior's son continued his journeys, through the endless, star-glittered spaces. (6)
When he crossed the sky for the first time, everyone in Middle Earth could see his light. The Elves took this as a message of hope sent to them by the Valar, therefore they called the new star Gil-Estel, the Star of High Hope, and it was mostly seen at dawn or sunset, gleaming in the twilight. But apart from Morgoth himself there were only three who at once recognised the Silmaril, namely those who had seen its light themselves: Maedhros, Maglor and Gil Galad, and of them only the High King knew what it meant.
The plead for pity on the Two Kindreds had reached the High Powers in Valinor.

Elwing, however, did not want to accompany Eärendil on the dark and lonely paths he followed. For her a tower was built on the shore of the Sundering Seas. Here seabirds of all kinds visited her. And as she once had been one of them, she understood their tongues and they told her about the fate of her beloved ones at the coast of Beleriand.

OOO

Then the Valar summoned the Elves of Valinor to fight on their side against the Black Foe. Finarfin led a huge host of the Noldor to the Belegaer and even more came of the Vanyar, and they followed Ingwion son of Ingwë as the High King of all Elves remained in the Blessed Lands.
Many weapons were forged, shields and swords, and arrows, and spears. It took more than two years until everything was prepared. In this time Elwing taught the Elves of Aman the Sindarin tongue as it was spoken in Beleriand. She sang songs of Doriath, recited poems from Nargothrond and told all the stories she had ever heard. And those who listened to her began to understand part of the land and its inhabitants and felt some of their love for Middle Earth themselves.

When finally the host was prepared, they were fair and terrible to behold. Their banners, worked by the dextrous hands of elven maidens, gleamed in the breeze, announcing uncounted noble families. Silver trumpets were blown when the host set out for the great battle against Morgoth.

Only the Teleri refused to take part in this war. They could neither forget nor forgive the destruction and the dead of Alqualondë the Fair. Then Elwing stepped before them and she pleaded for their help and reminded them of their kin who had remained in the lands of their birth. Her words moved their hearts and in the end they changed their minds. Still they refused to fight, but they sent ships to take the host of the Valar to Middle Earth.

There was a Teleri woman on one of these ships, with hair of dark silver and her eyes green, not grey as was common among her people. A sailor she was, loving the sea, the waves and the winds and especially all creatures that swam in the depth of the ocean. She looked forward to lay her eyes upon the shores of Middle Earth where she had been born. But the true yearning of her heart was of another kind: she longed to see Nowë again. (7)

However, she was not the only one who followed the summons out of love. Against her husband's will Eärwen, too, accompanied the army.
"Do you really believe I would remain here?" she asked. "Artanis and Artanáro are all who are left of our children. I desire to see my daughter and I want to meet Artaher's child." She turned towards Anaïre, the wife of Fingolfin, who sat beside her. "Don't you want to see the lands where your husband has lived and which to protect he fought so valiantly?"
The beautiful dark-haired Lady beside her, still tears in her eyes from the news she had heard about her husband and her children, shook her head.
"They are the lands that killed Nolofinwë and I have no intention to set foot on the cursed soil that is stained with the blood of the one I love."
Eärwen touched Anaïre's hand. "He will return to you, my friend. One day you will find yourself in his arms again. Your bond is strong, he will follow your call back to the lands of the living."
"May you never learn what it means to lose the light of your life," came the whispered answer.

OOO

The coast and inland north of Mount Taras and Turgon's old city of Vinyamar lay deserted. No one lived here, neither Man nor Elf, therefore only animals were witnesses when a white shimmer appeared on the horizon.
Soon the shimmer became the sails of white ships with their bows formed in the likeness of swans. The first of them approached the coast but still more and more became visible, until the blue ocean seemed covered with sails, and dolphins swam among them.

The ships followed the Firth of Drengist until its end in the North of Dor-Lómin. There the host of Valinor set foot unto the ground of Middle Earth under the sound of silver trumpets, unknowingly announcing their arrival in the same way as Fingolfin had done so many years ago.
They set out for north-east, crossing Hithlum and leaving the mountains and the lake of Mithrim to the right. Wherever they went they looked out for Elves but found none. Finarfin already began to fear they might be too late and that all of his people had perished. (8)
Eonwë reassured him. "Many have died in the great wars, many were killed by Morgoth's creatures, the orcs, whom you yet must learn to fear. But others survived. The Avari are hidden in the eastern woods and in the South there live Sindar and Teleri."

They crossed the Ered Wethrin at the pass of Eithel Sirion. When they went down on the eastern slopes they finally came to the springs of Sirion the Great. Far in the distance they could see the vast, burned plain of Anfauglith but here everything was green and the river sang his melodious song. Finarfin stopped, looking at the land in awe and wonder. He dismounted and sank down on a knee to touch the earth that had known his eldest son.
"Now I see the correctness in the decision to come hither," he said quietly. "This beauty is different from Aman still it touches the heart. The land calls for us, do you feel it?" he asked his wife.
Eärwen had followed her husband's example but to her it seemed as if the earth groaned in pain. At the sight of the devastated lands spreading out to the North and the East she realised that something terrible must have happened.
Manwë's herald answered to the unspoken question in her eyes. "Yes, many were killed here, in a great and terrible attack from Morgoth. But they died to defend their people. Great fame did they gain and no one more than Finrod Felagund whom they called the Beloved. He forged a bond between the Firstborn and the Secondborn that has changed and will change the fate of Arda."
The High Queen of the Noldor looked around and great sorrow was in her voice when she spoke.
"I wish I could see him. I wish I could hear his laughter again, and that he had not left his parents and the one who still loves him. I wish I knew he was happy."
Eonwë felt sympathy for this mother bemoaning her son.
"You will see him again, Eärwen, Swan-Maiden of Alqualondë. When you return to the Blessed Lands, he will await you there."
Comforted by this thought Finarfin asked, "When will we meet Artanis and Artanáro?"
"Your daughter lives far in the East beyond the mountain range of the Ered Luin, so it may take her some time until she arrives."
The High King patiently waited for more. Finally it was Eärwen who added, "And what about Artanáro?"
The herald shook his head. "The son of Artaher is not to take part in this war. A great fate lies before him, even though we cannot see it clearly yet. Too much is at stake to risk his life."

The following day Eonwë left the army and crossed the Ered Luin to call Galadriel. And he also summoned the Edain of the North. Some say, this was in order to give them a chance to atone for the fall of Men under the shadow of darkness which was supposed to have happened long ago, in the dark years before they arrived in Beleriand. Others believe it was Eru Ilúvatar's wish that all his Children should take part in the war against Morgoth.

Joyful was the reunion of Galadriel and her parents. Eärwen and Finarfin were happy to see her alive and with one she loved. They noticed with pride how their daughter Artanis had changed into a true leader of her people, for although neither she nor Celeborn had any title to bear, they were considered the Lord and the Lady of the Elves of Eriador and even the wandering Nandor accepted their rule.
One of Galadriel's followers from Doriath was a talented painter. On her request he made sketches for the High King of his lost or never known kin. Among illustrations of his sons and brothers Finarfin found a drawing of a Sindarin Elf with shimmering, dark hair. This was Helegethir, the wife of his grandson Artaher. On the picture she sat, her hands neatly folded in her lap in a gesture of calmness. But her head was slightly turned to the left as if something there had gained her interest, and her eyes were wide awake and attentive.
Then there was another drawing, of their great-granddaughter Finduilas. The artist had caught her in a dance, absorbed in the union of music and movement. Rich, golden hair flowed around her beautiful face and she was like sunlight shining through young leaves of spring.
Finally there was a young Elf, dark-haired and grey-eyed, calm and unassuming in his bearing. His head was slightly bent as if he was reading a book but the eyes were turned up to the watcher. Finarfin would not have paid much attention to him if not for the few words at the bottom of the page:
'Artanáro Finellach Gil Galad'.

OOO

Far from being more submissive than in her younger years, Galadriel openly disagreed with Eonwë to keep Gil Galad away from the war in the North.
"What right do you have to decide this for him?" she asked unwillingly.
"The fate the son of Artaher has to bear is much too important to risk his life now, daughter of the Noldor," was the Maia's answer.
"So tell him about his fate and then let him make his own choice!"
Celeborn laid a hand on his wife's arm. Inside his heart he admired her courage to oppose one of the Ainur so frankly in order to defend what she considered right. So beautiful and strong she was, like a high birch in the storm, defying even the strongest gusts.
"He is the last High King of the Noldor in the Hither Lands, love. They will need him."
More than his hand she felt the soothing touch of Celeborn's fëa on her own. He was like the root that supports the tree, reliable and strong. She turned around.
"Yes, my heart, I know. But will they need a King who cannot make his own decisions? Either Gil Galad is the King, then he deserves to be trusted in his wisdom. Is he but a child incapable of making the right decisions, he is of no use for his people."
Eonwë gave her a stern glance.
"You are still as rebellious as ever, daughter of Finarfin."
Galadriel proudly raised her head. "Artanáro has suffered more than anyone else of our family. If you think his life should not be risked in this war, convince him."
And in secret she sent a message to Balar.

OOO

Elrond watched Maglor's face with hardly concealed curiosity while the grown Elf read the letter. The young boy had seen the seal and knew it came from the High King. He wondered what his uncle might have to say, as this was the first message since Finellach's visit a couple of years ago.
Finally Maglor dropped the paper. His face was flushed, his eyes shining with a fire Elrond had never seen before.
"The Valar have come. There will be war against Morgoth."

---

Chapter End Notes

 

(1) Elrond's first attempts at literature: I've found no hint at what age Elf-children start to write. Tolkien just told us that they 'master' their language quite early in their life. Since (in Germany) children have their first writing lessons at about six I thought it's not too early for a future-wise-of-the-Eldar to show his literary gift only about five years later

(2) Gil Galad as 'High King of the Noldor': Beta-Balrog Eldrond asked me if it shouldn't be made clear that there is a difference in rank between Gil Galad and Finarfin who both bore the title 'High King'. The answer is: at this stage of the story Maglor cannot know what had happened in Aman after the Noldor left and that Finarfin is called High King of all Noldor now.

(3) Maglor's wife: according to HoME XII, 'The Peoples of Middle Earth' – 'Of Dwarves and Men', note 7 - of Fëanor's sons not only Curufin but also Maglor and Caranthir had been married.

(4) The Nandor/ Laiquendi: In the Silmarillion, chapter III 'Of the Coming of the Elves and the Captivity of Melkor', you can find more about the Nandor.

(5) Sindarin and Quenya names:
Thingol = Elwë (not a Quenya name but still the one his brother knew. 'Thingol' was invented after Elwë became King of the Sindar)
Finarfin = Arafinwë
Fingolfin = Nolofinw
Fëanor = Fëanáro
Finrod = Findaráto
Angrod = Angaráto
Actually, according to HoME XII "Peoples of Middle Earth" 'Findaráto' and 'Angaráto' are Telerin names, since Finarfin used the language of Eärwen's people. Their Quenya-form would have been 'Artafindë' and 'Artanga'. Speaking of Findaráto and Angaráto: it's assumed that Finarfin named is first two sons both 'Aráto' and only later added differentiating prefixes.
Edhellos = Eldalot
Orodreth = Artaher
Aegnor = Aikanáro
Galadriel = Artanis

Of the often numerous names (father-name, mother-name, Quenya-form, Sindarin-form, epessë etc.) I tried to use the most common. For example, 'Findaráto' and 'Angaráto' were Finrod's and Angrod's father-names, while for Aegnor I used his mother name 'Aikanáro' which he is said to have preferred – his father-name was 'Ambaráto'. An evil plot bunny bounces on my shoulder, excitedly babbling about an elven household with three children named 'Aráto'...

(6) Eärendil's star: 'Gil-Estel' is supposed to be the Venus (the morning/ evening star). Isn't his tale a lovely 'explanation' for it?

(7) Nowë: Círdan's true name (as you know, 'Círdan' is just the Sindarin word for 'shipwright').

(6) The route of the host of Aman: I've found no description which way the Elves and Maiar from Aman took towards Thangorodrim, so this is my own imagination. All we have is the note in the Silmarillion (chapter 24 'Of the Voyages of Eärendil') that "the mountains rang beneath their feet". It seems logical to me that they used the shortest route and that these mountains were the ranges around Hithlum. In chapter 13 of the Silmarillion, 'Of the Return of the Noldor' the pass at Eithel Sirion is mentioned.

2nd AN:

I see many raised eyebrows – Elves of Beleriand partaking in the War of Wrath? Well, I've read the Silmarillion as anyone else (if you're not one of 'anyone', this is a very good moment to start reading it) and from the very beginning their absence made me wonder. There's a big battle going on, lasting for decades, so the Elves of Beleriand must have learned about what was going on. Still they stayed at home? Maedhros and Maglor only coming to the army's camp when everything was over? It simply didn't fit into the impression I got from the Elves, especially the Noldor, throughout the rest of the story. The less as the Edain did take part – means: were willing and allowed to fight in the War of Wrath.
Again it has been Vorondis who pointed out a possible solution. Namely that Tolkien wrote "Of the march of the host of the Valar to the north of Middle-earth little is said in any tale; for among them went none of those Elves who had dwelt and suffered in the Hither Lands...and tidings of these things they only learned long afterwards from their kinsfolk in Aman." So one could say that the Beleriand-Elves just didn't know anything about the march but nonetheless were present at the battle itself.
Nitpicking, I know. But hopefully pardonable. You may accuse me of AU. Just bear in mind: if I had had Gilly sitting on Balar all the time we would have a chapter about the War of Wrath as follows:
"There was great war in the North but Gil Galad didn't take part. End of chapter."
I know what I prefer! ;)
gives Vorondis the War-of-Wrath-orc-cookie