A Return Is Not a Homecoming by grey_gazania

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Chapter 1

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Gil-galad blinked up at the stars, or what she could glimpse of them through the rustling leaves above her, and slowly sat up, delighting in the feeling of soft, cool grass against her skin - even more than that, delighting in having skin again. Looking down, the second thing she realized was that her scars and tattoos were gone; the first was that she was entirely nude, and she hurriedly drew her knees up to her chest, flushing deeply, and covered her breasts with one arm.

 

Soft laughter tinkled off to her left, and she turned to see a woman swathed in grey resting in the shadow of a willow. "It's all right, Child," the woman said, not unkindly, in recognizable Quenya, though her accent was odd to Gil-galad’s ears.  "We made your body; there's no shame in us seeing it."

 

"My lady Estë," Gil-galad breathed, averting her eyes in awe.

 

Estë stood and approached her, bending to tilt her chin up with gentle fingers. "Welcome back, Child," she said, placing a simple undyed robe next to Gil-galad. "Dress and go through the grove there; you'll find someone who is very eager to greet you." And, smiling, she turned and walked off into the shadows.

 

Gil-galad stared after her for a moment before glancing around the rest of the Garden. Satisfied that there was no one else there, she stood and pulled on the robe, and then walked barefoot through the trees, breathing in the cool air. She could make a shrewd guess at who would be waiting for her. Her father was still in the Halls of Mandos, and she’d had no siblings, but she knew in her bones that her mother would have come for her no matter what hardship the journey might have involved.

 

"Ereiniel!" Ianneth leapt up and flew to her daughter, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "Oh, love, you're back. I missed you so much."

 

"I missed you too, Nana," Gil-galad answered, clinging to Ianneth and blinking back tears. "I'm sorry I took so long."

 

"Hush." Ianneth rested her head on Gil-galad's shoulder, also teary-eyed. "You were away as long as you needed to be. And you're back now; there's no need to fret further. Sit with me?" she asked, nodding toward the ground. "I've been living in Tirion with your grandmother Anairë, but we can stay here tonight and set off in the morning."

 

"All right." The pair sat, and Gil-galad leaned against her mother, grateful for the warmth of her skin. "I was surprised you didn't go to Tol Eressëa."

 

"Well, I was in Tirion at first to be near Celebrían as she healed. But Anairë is a very kind woman, and lonely – you know none of her family has returned. It seemed cruel to leave. And we are friends. She's looking forward to getting to know you."  

 

"I didn't mean to take so long," Gil-galad explained quietly. "I wanted to be sent back to Lindon after I saw that Isildur didn't destroy the Ring, but Lord Bannoth said that my part in that fight was over, and if I could not accept even that then I surely was not ready to return to the world." She smiled wryly. "That took some time to come to terms with.  And then there were meetings with Haru and Ada and Celebrimbor and Oropher – I looked for Grandmother and Master Lassir, but they had gone to Eressëa by then – and with Maedhros." She frowned. "That was the most difficult; if I'd had to forgive him to return I don't think I'd be here yet. I’m not even certain I’ve forgiven Ada.”

 

Ianneth stroked her hair gently. "It was a long time ago, Gil-galad; I've forgiven him, even if you’re not ready to yet." She held her daughter in silence for a stretch before asking, "Do you know if he'll be returning?"

 

"Not soon, I don't think. He's still struggling with a lot of things." She leaned into Ianneth's embrace and murmured, "I missed you, Nana."

 

"I know," Ianneth answered. "I know. But you're back, and I'm here. Rest now; it's a long trip."

 

*************

 

"A bit overdone, isn't it?" Gil-galad whispered, eyeing Tirion's grand buildings with raised brows.

 

Ianneth bit back a laugh. "Shush. They like splendor here."

 

"I can see that," she muttered.

 

"Anairë's home is off from the city center by a few blocks; she's a couturier. She is also," Ianneth continued with a grin, "very clearly the source of yours and your father's energy."

 

Gil-galad smiled. "I can't wait to meet her, then. Though I think you had no small part in my liveliness yourself."

 

"Slander and calumny," Ianneth said. "I am entirely sedate." The two dissolved into laughter as they turned off of the square.

 

Anairë's house was bright and airy, surrounded by magnolias and set back from the street.  Ianneth knocked on the door, and it was opened almost at once by a lithe, dark-haired woman. "Ianneth," she said, smiling, "You are back! And you — stars above, you must be Gil-galad; you are Findekáno's spitting image."  She skipped onto the steps and drew Gil-galad into an embrace. "Welcome! Come inside; you must be cold."

 

"Thank you, Lady Anairë," Gil-galad answered, giving her a tentative hug.

 

Anairë waved a graceful hand, "Please, Haruni is fine."  She led them into the house, saying, "I've put you in the bedroom with the east window; your mother says you like to watch the moon and to rise early. There are baths drawn for you both, and after you can join me in the parlor for lunch. You've had a long trip and I'm sure you could use time to refresh yourselves."  She ushered them down a hallway and began gesturing to several doors. "This is my room; your mother is in this one here – do go in, Ianneth, while the water is hot – and you're around the corner here.  There are clothes for you in the bureau and the bathroom is through that door." She nudged Gil-galad into the room and pointed. "Your mother can show you to the parlor once you're both ready; I'll go and prepare the food." And with that she tripped lightly down the hall, leaving Gil-galad blinking after her.

 

The bath was pleasant and relaxing, and she was grateful to find breeches and a loose shirt when she looked in the bureau – likely her mother’s doing, she thought. Also in the bureau was a small, velvet-covered box that she recognized instantly: It was the box she’d used to store the set of silver hair beads that Celebrimbor had given her, more than two Ages ago. With a pang, she wondered whether her cousin had healed of his terrible hurts and been reembodied yet, and resolved to ask her mother,

 

She dressed and pulled her hair into a braid, weaving the beads in among the strands, and then padded down the hall to her mother's room. The door was open and Ianneth, clad in a smokey kirtle, was sitting before a mirror and pinning up her hair.

 

Gil-galad leaned against the doorframe. "Need help?"

 

Ianneth shook her head. "No, I'm nearly finished." She turned and smiled at Gil-galad, eyeing her clothes. "Good, they fit. I wasn't certain your measurements would be the same."

 

"They fit; thanks, Nana."

 

Ianneth nodded, pinned her last braid in place, and stood. "Now, time for lunch. I'll show you where things are."  She led the way to the parlor, where Anairë was just setting a pot of tea on a table laid out with cheese, fruit, and bread.  She smiled as they entered the room, took her seat, and said, "Join me, please."

 

They sat, and as Anairë poured tea she said, "It's wonderful to finally meet you; I've heard so much about you from your mother."

 

"It's nice to meet you, too," Gil-galad answered. "Ada used to talk about you sometimes - mostly when my tutor scolded me for fidgeting. He said it was practically a family tradition."

 

Anairë chuckled. "True enough – I think Turukáno was the only one of my children who escaped that particular trait."

 

Gil-galad smiled and began slicing a pear. "And you were a dancer, he said. The best in Valinor."

 

"A son's flattery," Anairë said, shaking her head. "I was a dancer, but I haven't been for many Ages now. Instead I've focused on my designs and commissions.  After you've settled in you should come to my studio; I know you're used to dressing in trousers, but that's hardly necessary here in Aman, and I have some blue silk that would make a lovely gown for you."

 

"That's a very kind offer, Haruni, and I thank you for it," Gil-galad said after a moment. "But I don't wear dresses. It's a matter of comfort as much as habit."

 

Anairë tsked and passed a dish of dates down the table. "Come to the studio," she said, "and we'll see if I can't convince you to adopt proper fashion."

 

A look from Ianneth silenced Gil-galad's coming argument, and she nodded reluctantly. "I'll visit. Though I make no guarantees as to whether any changing of minds shall occur."

 

"Fair enough," Anairë agreed, smiling. "Now - let's plan a trip around the city, shall we? I can show you all the important places – and the best confectionery – and you can start learning your way around."

 

*************

 

The next few weeks passed in a flurry of trips around Tirion, meeting new relatives and old friends and trying – without as much success as she would have wished – to avoid unwanted attention. Celebrimbor had yet to return from the Halls, as had Gurvadhor, but Henthael sought her out and exchanged a tearful yet joyous greeting. Maewen had settled on Tol Eressëa, and they exchanged letters and promised to meet the following month. The highlight was certainly her reunion with Erestor and Elrond, and a trip with them and Celebrían into the hills outside of Tirion. It was a welcome break from the city, and from Elrond she learned that Círdan, a fairly recent arrival from Middle-earth, was living in Alqualondë and continuing to build ships.

 

"I'd like to visit him," Gil-galad told Ianneth and Anairë the next day. "I was thinking I’d leave tomorrow; I'm not sure how long I'll stay."

 

"Shouldn't you write first?" Anairë asked.

 

"From her, he won't mind an unannounced visit," Ianneth said, reaching over and tucking some stray hair back into her daughter's braid. "And I know you’ve missed him, love. I think a visit would be good for both of you."

 

So the next morning she set out towards Alqualondë and the coast, bringing along a gift of herbs and wine. Círdan was easy enough to find when she reached the city in the early evening; the tall masts of ships were visible even from the road into the center square. From the looks of things there had been a storm; several of the ships showed signs of fresh repairs, and two still lay pulled up on the sand, their masts splintered.  A lone silver-haired figure was beside one, coiling up a long rope.

 

"Want a hand?" Gil-galad asked, grinning. "I could even lend you two."  

 

Círdan turned at her voice and answered her smile with one of his own. "There you are; I knew you'd turn up sooner or later. I'd have gone to Tirion myself, but as you can see..." He trailed off, gesturing towards the damaged ships.

 

"It's all right," Gil-galad said. "As soon as Elrond told me you were here I knew I'd have to come." She stepped forward and embraced him tightly. "It's so good to see you. Besides," she added, laughing, "if I'd stayed in Tirion any longer I think I'd have gone mad."

 

Círdan stepped back, a hand on her shoulder, and looked her up and down before smiling. "It's good to see you back – and whole. I missed you, my friend. Help me with this and then we can go to my home? And what is so maddening about Tirion?"

 

"Everything," Gil-galad said, coiling the other end of the rope. "The people, the buildings, the ridiculous society-maneuvering... Don’t get me wrong; it’s been wonderful to reunite with my mother and my friends and to meet my extended family, but the city isn’t like Mithlond. It's not home. I’m not sure it ever will be. And my grandmother is a very sweet woman, but she's determined to turn me into a lady."

 

Círdan snorted and said, "That's a losing battle if ever there was one; you spent over an Age deliberately not being a lady, and I can't imagine you'll suddenly start now."

 

"Would you want it any other way?" she asked, smiling crookedly.

 

"Of course not. In fact, I might even be able to help," he answered. "As it happens, I could use another set of hands for the next few weeks. What do you say?"

 

Gil-galad beamed and said, "It's a deal."

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Chapter End Notes

Haruni (Q.) - grandmother

 

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