Time heals all wounds.
That is something only mortals could say. For us - for me - time is nothing but cruel. Time allows you to remember and it does not allow me to forget.
My blessed Valinor, where I was truly happy. A happiness that cannot be described. It went beyond the absence of pain or suffering. It was the complete unawareness that such things could exist. There I lived with my kin under the light of the Two Trees and under the grace of the Valar.
I strove to make my home here in Middle-earth into a replacement for what I lost there. But still Lothlorien is but a simple image compared to the woods of Lorien in Aman. And most of all it misses the one who dwells there: Este
Yet sometimes, when I walk at night among the trees of Caras Galadon, I can almost feel her presence again. Like she can easily appear before me and call my name, the way she did that very first time.
I was only young, though I cannot reckon it in time, when I first looked upon her on the island in the lake of Lorellin. Like most of the Elder in Valinor, I loved the tranquillity of the woods of Lorien and I would come there often to sit by the water. One day a womanly shape lying beneath a great tree caught my eye.
At first I believed it might be one of Irmo's dream visions, for something so beautiful could surely not be living. She seemed to be asleep and at first I did not want to disturb her. But her gentle face captivated me utterly and I felt frustrated being on the other side of the water.
I called out to her and she raised her head to look at me. Her eyes were lined with silver like a fresh leaf from Telperion and her hair fell around her head like water from a fountain. I knew that this was surely not one of the Elder.
Awe left me speechless and all I seemed capable of was to lift my hand in greeting. The next instant she stood there before me. She called me by my father-name and her soft voice twinkled on my skin. I knew then that she must be one of the Valar.
Her grey cloak fell back when she raised her arms to slide her fingers through my hair. Before, none but my mother had touched me so lovingly as she did then. "Like the light of Yavanna." she said.
We spoke and walked together that day. She told me her name was Este and that she was the wife of Irmo. I felt a familiarity with her that was uncommon to me, growing up among my four brothers. I talked about my home and my family, who were all known to her. I wanted to ask her many questions, but she quieted me, saying she needed to sleep again. So we parted, but only after she had agreed to see me again.
And so our meetings began. Always I would wake her and we would talk or sing. Our encounters became more frequent over time. After a while she allowed me to touch her and I found beauty in her that rivalled the very stars of Varda.
Years went by where I became less and less involved with the affairs of my people and all I lived for was to be in her secret embrace. By mutual agreement, we both kept our love hidden from others. She feared the other Valar might not accept our actions and even though I did not believe that to be so at the time, I was willing to be silent in her behalf.
I was aware that others found my silence mysterious or even just conceited, but that didn't bother me. I never imagined then that one day my secret would become so hard to bear. So it wasn't until my happiness was utterly destroyed that I told anyone else.
When I was exiled from Aman and from the love of Este, it became too hard for me to hide my grief. I became more withdrawn, which was often mistaken for arrogance, until I encountered one that I trusted enough to share my secret with.
After I had been shut out of Valinor, I came to Doriath and the city of Menegroth. There I was permitted to stay by my distant kinsmen Thingol and his wife Melian.
I dwelled in Menegroth for a while, still too isolated in my feelings to care much for the outside world and the dealings of my kin. I would walk with Melian in the woods of Doriath and she would ask me much about Valinor.
Being one of the Maiar, she perceived many things more keenly. She knew my brothers had not told the truth of our return to Middle-earth from the blessed land, which indeed they had not, albeit for different reasons than my own. It became difficult to evade her questions. She sensed my inner misery and finally confronted me with my elusiveness.
How could I, who was so desperate to share my burden, refuse the very woman who had served my lover? Who had known her more closely than anyone in middle-earth, except maybe myself.
So at last I opened my heart for her and relived those fateful events.
I had been vaguely aware of the growing unrest in Aman and especially among my fellow Noldor, but thought it not important enough to distract me from my lover's company. How wrong I was. Even Este was at times uneasy, although she did not speak to me of any foreboding. But in fact a terrible treat had been growing that came to a devastating completion.
I was at the festival with my father and brothers when Melkor appeared with Ungoliant, who poisoned the Trees and dimmed their light forever. The malice of that first darkness cannot be put into words. All I can say is that for the first time in my life I felt fear.
I could feel it not just in myself, but also in everyone around me. Fear that came from disbelief and incomprehension of what had happened. It gripped at my heart and threatened to overwhelm me. So I fled.
I had to get away to a place where I could be safe from this dread. I ran on and on through the dark, straight to the woods of Lorien and the lake of Lorellin. And there I waited. I knew that she would have to come to me. Would she not need me as much as I needed her now? We could comfort each other. She was the only one in Valinor with the power to heal this hurt.
Time seemed to last forever, but finally Este appeared before me. I wanted to flee into her arms, but she stood cold in the dim starlight. Her eyes were filled with tears, but when I reached out to wipe them away, she stepped back.
I asked her what was wrong and she told of the slaying of Finwe and how Feanor had refused the Valar the Silmarils so the light of the Trees would be gone forever. She told how the Valar sensed that darkness had grown in the hearts of all the Noldor and that great evil would come from it.
I pleaded that my heart was filled with nothing but love for her. If only she would hold me, I could endure this alien night. We could stand it together.
But she retreated, saying everything had gone too far and I should never have woken her.
My anguish at her words was overwhelming. I cried tears for the first time in my life, saying that this was not true, but still she walked away from me and would grant me no rest in her arms.
Broken I went back to Tirion and heard the words spoken there by Feanor. I recognised with a shock that Este and the Valar had been right. I had not seen it coming. How could I have been so blind to what had unfolded within my own family?
That dreadful fear rose up again in my stomach when I heard Feanor and his sons take that fateful oath. I knew it was wrong and it was foolish. I did not care for Feanor's jewels then, however great they were. In the end they were merely trinkets to hold. All I could think of was my rejection at the hands of Este. Now I felt myself truly in darkness.
The thought of staying in this scarred place was unbearable, so I was quick to join my brothers in their departure. And though I bound myself to no oath, I accepted exile by my own choice.
This I told Melian and I saw my words grieved her and we spoke no more of it.
My life moved on. I found in Celeborn a good man, whom I could trust and be with. But even he never knew me completely. We stayed together through war and peace and had our beautiful daughter, who awaits me now in the West.
Finally I will take the ship to join her there. I am about to leave the woods of Lothlorien, which will always remain a tribute to Este, and I cannot help but remember our times.
Even after ages, I can still recall the touch of her hands on me so vividly I can physically feel it. And I can still feel the pain of her last words. Have I not by the final test proven my heart to be pure?
Will she receive me now and heal my wounds? Because I know in my heart only she can. Time certainly has not done it.
Site Info
We are the home of 1292 authors from among our 2552 members. There have been 2904 reviews written about our 3820 stories consisting of 10734 chapters and 29400445 words. A special welcome to our newest member, Rosamundeb.Categories
Skin Change
Donate
Help us keep one of the oldest running LotR archives available to all. Even the smallest donation helps!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
The Library, elsewhere
Other projects
Rest by Aeneus
Story notes: In response to the Library of Moria femslash challenge. This is told from Galadriel's POV and although the story is set at the end of RotK, most of the background described can be found in The Silmarillion and a little in Unfinished Tales. Also, I've left out all the accents on names like Este, because they tend to wreak havoc when the format is changed.
