Celandine Brandybuck
The Shire
Oct 25 2022, 9:42pm
Post #1 of 1
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Galadriel in the Helcaraxë
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It's been a very long time since I've written any Tolkien fanfic, but watching the new tv series seems to have inspired me. I thought I'd share this ficlet here since it was Eledhwen on these boards who first encouraged me to write such stories, many years ago now.
During the journey through the Helcaraxë, Galadriel thinks about how she came there.
Galadriel in the Helcaraxë
Valinor in Aman was my birthplace, under the light of Telperion and Laurelin. The wind blew gentle there, the rain fell soft, the earth bloomed and bore fruit at the bidding of Yavanna. There my kin had settled, brought by Oromë from Cuiviénen to protect them from the evils of Melkor—who himself had been imprisoned for three ages, but whose servants still roamed free in the dark.
At my birth my father named me Artanis, and thus was I known in my youth and even after to many of my close kin; but my mother called me Nerwen for my stature and will. It was my cousin Maedhros who first called me Alatáriel for the radiance of my hair, and that is how most folk now know me. His father Fëanor begged me for a lock of it, but I would not give the son of Míriel a single hair, not he who had rejected his half-brothers, who but wished to love him.
In anger he left me. Much later I learned from Nerdanel his wife that the work of the Silmarils was inspirited thereby, for good or for evil; and more like for evil, from what followed later.
For when Melkor was released from his bonds, with his accomplice Ungoliant he destroyed the Two Trees, and slew the High King Finwë my father’s father, and stole the Silmarils, and then fled northward to Angband, his ancient fortress.
Great was the wrath of Fëanor for the loss of his jewels and of his father, and together with his sons he swore never to rest until he should hold the Silmarils again, and to do war on any who withheld them from him, whomsoever that might be.
The greatest part of our people followed him, even after he led them to seize the ships of the Teleri at Alqualondë and slay those who withstood that theft. Not all the host could take ship, so great were our numbers, and thus some marched northward instead—though my father Finarfin repented and returned to Valinor. Even I, who am no friend of Fëanor, have journeyed here to the Helcaraxë, the Grinding Ice well-called, for it is perilous indeed.
This waste of ice and snow and barren rock, scoured by the dry and bitter wind, is as unlike Valinor as any place could be. Our only light is that of Varda Elentári’s stars, pure and beautiful even here, yet dim compared with that of the Trees that is now lost. Daily we fight for our very lives against this land’s mindless malice, but those of us who have come thus far will not turn back. Fëanor may have abandoned us to our fate, but my brothers and I will not do likewise to our cousins. Moreover, if I bear any share in culpability for all that has happened, as I deem I do, then must I continue the pursuit of Melkor, or Morgoth as he is now called, until the Silmarils are reclaimed.
Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta!
[Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.]
"Happiness isn't happiness without a violin-playing goat."
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