Aftermath by Independence1776

Chapter 2

Galadriel looked at me as we waited with Celeborn and Ohtarë to board Finarfin’s ship. I did not wish to be near her, but my desires no longer held any sway on what occurred. She had hated my father and brothers and possibly still might. But she was also family and that bond could not be denied, all but shattered as it was. 

She finally said, “Are you relieved to be heading home?”

I glanced at her. “Are you?”

She laughed. “Father told me more, I think, of what Aman is like now than he told you.”

“You’re his daughter. Why would he spend more time with me?” I shook my head. “Neither one of us has answered the question.”

“I’m not sure there is an answer,” she replied. “Our homes here are gone. There is literally nothing left save for a little of Lindon. Yet Aman can never be the same. Neither one of us will truly fit in now. We have grown apart in more than the obvious ways.” She sighed. “Yet Eldamar is still home. I suppose I never really thought I’d see it again.”

“I know I didn’t. ‘By thine oath art exiled. The lies of Melkor thou shalt unlearn in bitterness.’ I’m not sure my father had the time. I did.” I gazed at the Telerin ships, both Finarfin’s and the multitude floating at anchor beyond. “I expected my exile to last until the world’s end. Yet I chose to travel to Valinor for judgement instead. I do not feel relief, Galadriel. I feel joy and sorrow and resignation and fear. Not terror; terror I learned in Angband. The Valar will not do to me what Morgoth did. That much I know.”

In silence, she reached out and squeezed my left hand as the Telerin captain pointed at us and waved us aboard.

*

I stood on the deck, watching the last of Middle-earth slip below the horizon, not intending on retreating inside. The plains, forests, and mountains we left behind were lands I would never know and that hurt more than a little. If the Silmarils hadn’t been stolen, I believed that my father, brothers, and I-- maybe even Mother-- would have sailed East at some point. We had never been meant to be caged. 

And here I was sailing West back into one.

Potentially a literal one. Cells no longer frightened me, not the one even the Teleri would build given the tiniest chance. I had a cabin to myself on the ship, only large enough for a bed with three drawers built into its low platform. There was a bolt on the outside of the door, newly attached and undoubtedly to be used if I ever stayed in the cabin more than the brief time it took to half-fill one of the drawers with my meager belongings-- which consisted of three sets of clothes and a reed flute-- and to put my empty, small pack in a second drawer. The Teleri could have done much worse.

I ignored the mocking laughter and the teasing when the swells on the open ocean grew larger and I leaned over the railing to lose the little bit of breakfast I had dared to eat.

It was a miserable voyage for me despite the ship’s speed and mostly calm waters. No one else in my family had suffered seasickness and Amrod had joked with me about it more than once over the years since we’d stepped foot in Beleriand. Staying in my cabin made the seasickness worse, though I did sleep locked in there most nights. Only when we sailed around Tol Eressëa into the Bay did my nausea subside.

I lifted my head to stare at the Pelóri, now many times higher, sheer-sided, and snowcapped. Finarfin had warned me the land itself had changed, but I had not expected such a drastic alteration. The Shadowy Seas and Enchanted Islands I thought would have been defense enough, given how unsettling they were even to those who were safely sailing through and by them.

I stayed at the rail as we passed under the arch of living rock into Alqualondë's harbor. A significant portion of the fleet had already returned-- though many were sailing behind us-- and there were large crowds to greet Finarfin. I knew some of the crowd saw me, given momentary silences and hard expressions, but the rest either chose not care for the time being or didn’t see me. The crew docked the ship and lowered the gangway on the opposite side of the ship from where I stood. Finarfin, Galadriel, and Celeborn were the first to disembark.

Ohtarë said nothing to me, though I could see her crossed arms out of the corner of my eye. After most of the passengers left the ship, I finally took a deep breath, pulled my pack’s strap over my left shoulder, and turned around. She fell into her usual escort position and we walked down the gangway onto the stone quay.

I was home.

And the last time I was here, I was newly a murderer.

I didn’t dare to close my eyes, not knowing what the Teleri in the crowd would do to me. But they were largely paying attention to Finarfin, who was being officially welcomed home by Olwë near the front of the quay. I swallowed, knowing that he knew well who Finarfin had brought with him; I had no doubt Eönwë would have sent word. But Galadriel was there with Celeborn. It might, might be possible to prevail upon Ohtarë to bring me directly to Valimar without involving Olwë.

A quiet voice, rather closer than I knew anyone had come given I’d remained out of the way at the end of the quay near the ship, said, “Makalaurë?”

I turned to face the speaker and dropped my bag. “Mother,” I said, my voice muffled in her shoulder as she embraced me.

“You came home.”

“I did. I’m sorry for… everything. I don’t know what will happen now.”

She pulled back and let me see her face, more careworn than I had expected to see from someone who had never left Aman. “I know you are sorry. How could you not be? But the Valar will decide.” She smiled. “I will not leave you to face them alone.”

I had no words, so I tightened my arms around her. I knew she would understand.