Bits of Elven Glass by Himring

Chapter 4

Celebrimbor undermines Galadriel's rule in Eregion, but crafts the Elessar for her.

[Posted elsewhere as "Expectations"]

Originally written for B2MeM 2012 for the prompt: women of the Silmarillion defying expectations.

‘It is not because you are a woman’, said Celebrimbor, annoyed, ‘or at least, not in the way you mean.’

He cleared his throat.

‘Listen, Artanis, I wasn’t there, of course, but I’ve heard enough stories about the Ice, stories told by those who remember, by those who crossed the Ice with you. They agree that you were marvellous during the Crossing, a natural leader, inspiring, compelling, that they owe their survival largely to you.

‘I don’t quite know what happened—as a scion of the House of Feanor, I was elsewhere, mostly, not privy to discussions—but my guess is that as soon as you arrived in Middle-earth, your brothers, your cousins, your uncle discovered that there was a War on, as if you hadn’t been perfectly aware of that to begin with, as if they ought not to have been aware of it just as much as you, as if the Helcaraxe hadn’t been as murderous as Morgoth, in its way, and they told you that War was Not For Women. The odds would have been against you in that argument—at any rate, you would have been heavily outnumbered…

‘Maybe you found that the Sindar weren’t all that much more open-minded than the Noldor on the subject, perhaps even less so, although they ought to have known better, having a Maia for their queen. Maybe you threw up your hands in disgust, left the hapless males to it, and decided to pursue other goals, other kinds of power.

‘You are very powerful now, in the ways that Melian taught you. But somehow, on some level, you must have believed what they told you about Women, although it must have been evident they did not have a clue of what they were talking about. What I am seeing, here, in Eregion, is not the Artanis who was one of the Great among the leaders of the Noldor across the Helcaraxe. What I am seeing is patchwork—a bit of Findarato one day, a bit of Nolofinwe the next, as if you cannot not do without models, but have confidence neither in yourself nor in your ability to copy any of them. On some days, you out-Feanaro Feanaro!

‘It does not suit you and it does not go down well with my people. Hailing from Nargothrond, as most of them do, they are attached to the House of Arafinwe. They are also more broad-minded than some, but they do not have a history of unquestioning obedience and will not sit still while you experiment with styles of leadership.

‘Also,’ he added, aggrieved, ‘you haven’t given Celeborn enough to do, so for want of another occupation he comes bothering me about my work. He has no sympathy or understanding for my work, and I confess his constant scepticism aggravates me.’

Celebrimbor paused for breath. Uncertainly, he eyed Galadriel’s unyielding back as she went on leaning out of the window. Almost, he lost courage, but finally went on.

‘Altariel, you do not love Eregion and its people. I do, and it saddens me to see how each day the mutual discontent grows, in your heart and in theirs. You say you that you weary of the barren stones of Eregion and long for unfading flowers and leaves, but I do not think you are ready to return to Valinor. I think maybe you will not be ready to return to Aman until you have lost your heart to Middle-earth itself, not only to a husband from Doriath, until you have found your own true home here in Ennore.’

He pulled the green stone from his pouch.

‘I have crafted a gift for you, a green stone. A long time ago, in Vinyamar, I taught Enerdhil the art of its making and he, in turn, taught me that there was more to it than I suspected. I have looked further into the matter, and I think this stone has the potential to help you in your need. When you find the place that you love, the place that is your heart’s home, it will tell you. You will see the flowers blossom and the leaves flourish around you because of your love, because it interacts with the power of the stone.’

Galadriel turned around. All this while she had made no movement, no sound. Celebrimbor, who had stubbornly refused to be cowed by her haughty silence, was shocked to see her face wet with tears.

‘Forgive me, Artanis’, he stammered, ‘I did not mean to hurt you. What do I know? I am a blithering fool. Forget what I said; it was nonsense. These are just temporary difficulties, and we’ll weather them, you’ll see.’

He hastily withdrew the proffered jewel and began to put it back in his pouch.

‘No’, said Galadriel. ‘Give it to me.’

Chapter End Notes

Note on Quenya names: Altariel=Galadriel (Noldorin Quenya; Telerin: Alatariel); Arafinwe=Finarfin; Feanaro=Feanor; Findarato=Finrod; Nolofinwe=Fingolfin.