Lillianna lovingly pulled out her father’s care-worn, leather-bound book and set it on the table before her. She gently smoothed her hand across the cover, as if it were an old and dear friend. Indeed to her it was, for it was one of the only remaining tangible memories from her father whom she had never known. Galadriel sat beside her and smiled at her adoptive daughter’s reverence for her father’s possession. The value of it was beyond comprehension, and its recovery was indeed a marvel. Lillianna scanned the contents briefly. They were mostly a collection of different observations on herbal uses and other plant-life. Yet something peculiar caught her attention. At the back there a number of pages that were not attached to the main portion of the book, as though they had been hastily written and put inside the book for safe keeping. She pulled the pages out carefully and saw that it was a journal entry of her father.
“What is it Lillianna?” Galadriel asked when Lillianna’s eyes grew wide at this discovery. “What is that you hold?”
“It looks to be a personal record written by my father... Yet I do not understand. The title is thus: ‘Of Maegwen and Esgal’. I have no memory of such persons. Do you know of whom he speaks? Were they friends of my parents?”
At this news Galadriel was taken aback, for she knew indeed the story of the two individuals, and she did not know that Verdan himself had written down his encounter with them. She paused for a moment, and a look of sadness penetrated her eyes.
“Yes. I do know of them. They were drows, forsaken elves, whom your father yearned to help. Their tale is bittersweet, and I do not know it to the full, since I was hardly involved in its weaving. Those were dark times, you understand. Perhaps this account of your father’s will shed further light upon it.”
Lillianna nodded solemnly and together they read the long lost inscriptions of Verdan son of Ilmare.
It is the year 3354 of the second age, and I will write this tale of my task given to me faithfully. As to why I do such, I do not know. There has been a bitter gnawing in the back of my mind that all will not turn out well in these turn of events, and perhaps my account will enlighten those as to what has happened in this world. I write this from the security of my hiding place, and yet you do not know the reason for my hiding. Let me now inform you of thus.
Recent events now suggest an air of felicity between the normally estranged races of elves and dwarves. Both now have the common desire to restore the world to its former glory before it was broken, and the dwarves of Durin and the elves of Eregion(of whom I largely associate with) have built a grand stone city underneath the mountains. The doors of Khaza-dum were engraved by Celebrimbor himself to signify this new friendship. Celebrimbor proclaimed it was because of my long labors with the dwarves that this alliance between our two races has come to pass. Such praise I hardly know if I deserve, but I am indeed grateful for it. I confess I am rather cynical of such felicity in times that are still uncertain. If there is such trust, why was I sent to survey the land between Eregion and Khaza-dum for suspicious persons from the North? In my humble opinion, I would think it best to keep a wary eye on the East. For it is there that the threat in my mind originates. I do not trust Celebrimbor’s mentor, “Annatar” as he so calls himself. He is far too zealous to involve himself in the woes of the elves, and far too eager to share his knowledge on the crafting of the rings of power. Yet no one is of equal mind with me on this matter except Gil-galad and Elrond. However, it is they who cautioned me to remain quiet on this matter and to grant the request I fulfill now, much to my displeasure. Though I have not been in this world long, already I feel burdened by it. My own dear Nimloriel is with child, and I would have nothing more than to be near her in these troublesome times. Yet to entertain such gloomy thoughts is foolish, and I have always said so. To focus on the task at hand is what I must do, and perhaps all my forebodings are for naught. It would do me well to meditate on the wise words of my dear wife to me before I left.
“Be not uneasy my love.” she said “for your faith in not yourself has always seen you through. Is there any reason for that to change, even when such a circumstance would seem so loathsome?”
Forbid it not to be that I should loose faith in the one who sent me. Dear Nimloriel, how often do you prove yourself the priceless treasure you are to me! Heaven knows I do not deserve you.
It is late and I must not tarry longer. I will write when I have more news.
The third day of my task:
My accounts have not been entirely faithful I’m afraid because of the lack of interesting news to report and the severe weather conditions. Summer is well on her way and autumn will no doubt be coming behind her soon. I daresay the terrible wind I am experiencing is a sign of that change. I think I shall be forced to retreat to underground routes which will hinder the carrying out of my duties. I shall not stay there long. I can not disclose where I am. If the enemy was to find this inscription it would be grievous for us. The wind is picking up more. Alas, I shall fall out of this tree if I am not in shelter soon.
Later that day:
I am safe now inside one of the numerous caves in these mountains while the wind outside refuses to subside. I know of many caves here because of the dwarves, yet this one is unfamiliar. It would appear to be not large on first glance, but through the light of my mother’s pendant, I am finding numerous alcoves that escaped my notice before. On the back wall the stone is unusually soft. It is a puzzling enigma and I think I shall explore it more. Namely I am curious because there is no stench of orcs in this cave – quite unusual. What lays in deeper chambers my mind dares not imagine.
Fourth or fifth day of my task:
I am not sure of the exact date because it is difficult to tell when daylight begins or ends when one is spending their time in a continually dark cave. Exploring it has been my chief exercise, for now a dangerous thunderstorm (I believe) rages outside.
I have made an extraordinary discovery since I wrote the previous two lines, and now I feel inclined to write it down. I found that a portion of the wall gives way when one applies a good deal of force to it and lead to a passage way that is lit – shockingly enough – by torches! This was most mind boggling and I was curious to find who inhabited this cavern. I know for sure now it is not orcs – they despise light in all its forms. I followed the torches, believing the inhabitants to most likely be dwarves. I came to a divide in the path (where I am now), and decided to record these strange happenings. Until I find further evidence to suggest otherwise, I shall continue to assume that this is indeed a home of dwarves. Yet I am most puzzled by it all. I know all the dwarves in this area and I am certainly not aware of any of them telling me of this dwelling place. The walls have unusual inscriptions on them (ones I cannot read), but it is certainly not dwarvish! It almost looks like a form of Sindarin, but for this I cannot be certain, and it would be ludicrous to believe elves would inhabit this hole!
I am hesitant to move on, for I don’t want to loose my way, but the more adventurous and curious part of me demands the answers to my nagging questions. I suppose I could mark the place where I am for future reference. If there is need for alarm in these mountains, I should be aware of it. I do not sense a threat yet, but what of that which remains unexplored? I shall have to see.
Some time later:
Nothing new that I should find would seem alarming after what I have witnessed. I can scarce believe it myself, but I am standing right in front of the cause of my disbelief. (Or rather, above it) The passage on the left from the divide (I don't know what inclined me to take that way. Perhaps a gentle prodding by Manwe or Varda?) lead for about an hour around curves, and the passage steadily got lighter as I went further. I supposed I was coming to the earth's surface, but obviously I have not done so. Well, not entirely. I am standing at the verge of a small valley. I assume that I am west of the mountains, but I cannot be too sure of this. The only thing I know is that I have never heard of or seen this place before. There is a forest that takes up nearly all of the valley floor and a small stream that runs down my side of the mountain, along the valley, and over to the other side. I am by a waterfall caused by this stream and a well-worn path leads down from my feet to the bottom. The sky is rather clouded, yet nothing inhabits it. There is a dreadful calm that I find depressing. Someone lives here - most likely in that forest - and I must know who. I am too visible up here. I must find a secure hiding place. I am determined to have my questions answered, for indeed they have nearly doubled by this new find.
Nightfall under cover of a rock formation:
At last I find who lives in this valley. After several hours of patient waiting and observing the different wildlife that lives here (not anything different from the rest of the world, thankfully), I am rewarded with a glimpse of my allusive inhabitants. I was surprised - but not wholly shocked - to find that they are elves. I don't know how many of them yet, for I have only seen a male and a female. I have not yet been able to hear their speech, but they look as though they are silvan elves, or "dark elves" - those who have not seen the light of the two trees of Valinor. Yet elves of this kind are not unusual. In fact, they nearly occupy all of the elves in Lothlorien and Greenwood. Nearly all of the "light elves" left for Valinor years ago before I washed upon these shores. Yet there are still some who remain. Gil-galad and Galadriel are highest among their number. So why are these elves estranged from those of their race? They may be drow – forsaken elves. That might be the most plausible explanation. They have a very proud demeanor - the woman especially. Though I am nearly a league away, I can clearly see thus. It is obvious they desire to shut themselves from the world. I wonder if I should consider myself pretentious enough to approach them. They should not consider me a threat since I come alone. But I wonder if they would think that I was attempting to spy on them? I should hope not, for I should despair to loose their trust before I had time to earn it. They may happen to be of the kin of Tingon and Oropher of Greenwood, and so by that we would not be so wholly strangers. However, common sense bids me to remain in my present position to see if there is more than one of them. Yet I cannot forget the reason for my journey to these mountains in the first place.
In the forest of the valley on an unknown date:
I have just heard the most extraordinary tale, and I would scarce believe it myself, except for the fact that I was told it by the very people who experienced it. (I am sure you have already guessed who they are) They have allowed me to record it for further purposes unknown at the present. It has been nearly a week since I have written anything, and the reason has been mainly that I was so enraptured by the story of these two people. I am afraid my scouting mission has failed, but I have not come on this trail for naught, as you will soon see. But I see that I am straying from the point, as Maegwen has so kindly shown me from her peeks over my shoulder. (Which I consider more amusing than obnoxious)
As you may have already guessed, Maegwen is the name of the elf woman I was watching from the cover of my rock. Esgal (the other elf) and her were at first very cautious and suspicious of me when I was bold enough to approach them. Such a reaction I was well expecting, but I knew I had to try to earn their trust. When I came closer to Esgal, I found that he was much shorter than normal elves and his eyes were darker – a deep green to be exact. (Much like Nimloriel in fact, although hers are lighter, like the brightest, most brilliant emerald.) They were somber with wisdom learned from many past experiences and hardships. He had a careful way of hiding his ears by his long and unruly dark hair. I shall explain why he did this later. His face was grim and marked with many scars, as though he was a warrior from a recent battle. He wore a very dark cloak that hid his clothes underneath it, but allowed for his arms to pass through slits in the side. In his right hand he carried scythe of some sort that was polished with great care. He held it warningly on his side, in preparation for any sudden actions of aggression from me. His left hand was hidden in the folds of his cloak, and I surmised there was a weapon in that hand hidden from my notice. When I felt no fear from Esgal, I drew nearer, and Maegwen covered her face with her long, draping cloak of silvery grey. She slipped behind Esgal in apprehension; an icy, cold gaze shone through her hood, and there I saw within the depths of her soul. Too sorrowful it was for me to understand at the time, yet I pitied her immensely at that moment. I found that she was nearly the same height as him, if not taller, and this was another thing that tickled my mind with confusion. But at the time I was mostly focusing on how I might prove that I was not an enemy. I told them who I was, and left out the truth that I was here on a scouting mission. I did tell them that I got lost in the cave, and when I came to their valley, I was intrigued and wanted to know who was here. As I was talking, Esgal looked at me in a more curious than suspicious way. For a moment after I was done telling my tale, we merely surveyed one another, trying to find out if each of us was dangerous. I suppose he knew I wasn’t telling him everything, but that didn’t seem to bother him much. In fact, I was surprised at how quickly he seemed to trust me, for the grip on his scythe relaxed a bit and he spoke to Maegwen softly. He turned to me; the look in his eyes was overflowing with pain.
“Stranger”, he said, “Do not be put on guard by our grim presence. It has been long since one of your kind has talked to us kindly. I see you are much different than that of your kind, and if you wish to find your way out of this valley then I will tell you. I will only ask of you one thing, that you do not reveal our presence to anyone in the outside world.”
I nodded in silence and wanted to ask more, but I thought it best to wait until further trust was established. I answered him in the most convincing manner I could.
“It would be grievous for me to trespass on the privacy of two people who have showed me that kindness, but can you not understand my curiosity in to knowing more of your tale?”
He did not answer me then, but turned his face to the ground. Maegwen, however, came up behind him and faced me with her cold presence. Her eyes were like that of most elves – a bright blue - but they were full of respite. Her voice was harsh and cynical as she addressed me.
“My half-brother would be a fool to trust anyone anymore, especially one whose tone reeks of simple-minded condescension. We do not want your pity. We only want peace. Leave us with your slyly concealed insults, and your false claims of hope – so many in this world have given us that already.”
She was about to turn and leave me with this refute, but I stopped her dead in her tracks with my commanding tone. I did not want to leave empty handed, and I was not about to let this willful maiden deprive me of my answers.
“But I am not of this world.” I said truthfully, and I held out my pendant to her as proof. She looked at me fearfully now, though I did not speak cruelly. I knew questions must have been racing in both of their minds. “Would you deny me the chance to heal your hearts, as it is clear they have both been broken? I am a healer, and I was not sent to this valley in vain. Let not the power of my mother, Ilmare frighten or turn you away. I am sure many have treated you wrongly, but would you judge me by their actions?”
My mother must have had a hand in my speech, for they looked at me now in immense wonder, and Esgal even dropped his scythe in amazement. This sort of action was always uncomfortable with me, since I did not want to seem an incarnation of valerian power on earth, but at least I knew he respected me. Esgal approached me and put his hand on my shoulder – an elven gesture of acceptance.
“My friend,” He said as his eyes starting to brim with tears, “You are welcome in my house. I did not know who you really were. If you wish it, I will tell you the tale no other person has heard, and then you can see how you will perceive me.”
I returned the gesture and followed him and Maegwen (who now looked at me with shining eyes – something that worried me little at the present) into the forest.
Back at their small hut, I was refreshed and Esgal told me their names, and then asked if I wanted to know everything thing about them. I answered yes, and he heaved a tired sigh, as though he was preparing for a great ordeal. It began as thus:
“It is a rather sad and dreary tale, Verdan, but I can see you are firm in your resolve to hear it. Perhaps you are used to tales ridden with woe, but mine may stand out in your mind. You may have already guessed that I am a half-elf, and that me and my half-sister are drow – forsaken elves. We were cast out of the presence of our people for no small matter. But that comes later. Let me start at the very beginning.” He closed his eyes and spoke in a low, haunting voice as he retold the past.
“My mother was named Nerthaniel, and she lived in the realm of Doriath under the great king Thingol towards the end of the first age. As you know, the lands were divided at that time, and soon Doriath was overtaken by the tide of evil. My mother escaped the peril, but had to watch her brother be left alone in the fires had havoc that ensued in that once fair valley. It wounded her greatly, for her brother was her dearest friend and protector. She was but 100 years old at that time. When King Oropher started his kingdom in Greenwood, he let her come and live in that realm, and later he had one of his chief advisors, Galdor, act as a protector, for her parents had been killed in the sack of Doriath. He later fell in love with her, and though she did not fully love him, she consented to wed him, for she did not want to be left alone in the world again. They had a daughter, Maegwen, who sits before you. When she did not fully heal from the ordeal of the birth of Maegwen, my mother was told to travel to Rivendell where she would rest and try to restore her soul. Little did they realize her real injuries were far too deep to be healed by elven arts. Now in that time, Morgoth was defeated by the hosts of the Valar, but there were still many servants under his power by his chief servant, Sauron. He was controlling the minds of some men in the northeast. They made their living by plundering and reeking havoc on peaceful villages. Unfortunately, my mother’s small traveling party was also another one of their targets. She was taken, beaten, and raped in their small camp, and would have passed away if it weren’t for scouts from Rivendell who tracked the raiding party. They sent news to Galdor of what happened, and were expecting him to take her back to Greenwood, but no news was heard for a long time. When he finally reached them, he simply said this:
‘This is very unfortunate, but you must realize that this soiled dove cannot live in respect in these lands anymore. I would hate for her to bear so much sorrow.’ And I have proof of this here.” He held up a small piece of parchment to signify he was telling the truth. His face was dark and his voice reeked with disdain.
“Of course he didn’t want his prized reputation to be shattered by this misfortune, yet I did not know of this for a long time. The elves at Rivendell were shocked and saddened by this, and when they tried to find him again, he disappeared, taking the daughter Maegwen with him. This left the elves at Rivendell with a predicament. Should they take my mother and risk their being found out by the men who attacked? And what of the child, the half elf that was to be born? As you know, the rape of elven women by men is considered the most horrid and brutal crime someone could ever commit, for the mother loses her immortality unwillingly. It also puts a mark on the child. Forever will it be known as a product of hate and evil. There were some who had pity on my mother, and some who merely shook their heads in shame. They all didn’t want me, though. There was discussion for a long time over this, and so in that time, I was born. Unfortunately, the strain of another child birth was too much for my mother, and so the elves there never had to decide whether they should keep her. Before she died, she gave me a name. Galen, she called me, for my green eyes, and I was told that she held me very tightly as she died, as though she was not willingly giving me up to the care of others. After that, I knew not the feeling of true, untainted love, and I was not told of my mother’s name for me or intimate details of her past. I lived there only for a little while, for I knew I was not wanted there. I found out why by my own means. It angered me that they would consider my mother above them, just because she was not royalty, and it angered me even more that they would blame me for something that was beyond my control. I could not help who I was. Would anyone willingly want to have the mark of a half-elf laid upon them? It might mean something if the union of my parents had been in love, but I had no such luxury. I knew I had to leave. There was no way I would belong in such a place. The only gift they gave me was the only name I knew – Esgal – which means “hidden”, for I was a secret they desperately wanted to keep hidden. I was hot headed and brash at the time, something that would case me great pain. I escaped Rivendell when I was 50, old enough to leave, and was determined to find my mother’s rapist. I went too far east, having a crude sense of direction, and there Sauron’s forces found me. They demanded to know where I came from to which I told them nothing. I was not so cruel as to betray helpless people to the clutches of Sauron. So they took me as their slave. For many years I lived among them, and many times they beat me and tortured me to try to find where I came from. But I told them nothing. The hate boiled in my soul. I didn’t think I deserved any of this, and I cursed the elves and everyone else for all the wrongs they did to me. The orcs there mocked me for my pointed ears, and they at one point cut off the points, for they found them “atrocious” in their sight.”
Here he pulled back his hair and showed the evidence of his cruel past. I confess I cringed a little at the sight, and wondered if some way I might repair them. But I nodded for him to continue his story.
“A gruesome bit of work, aren’t they?” He said when he noticed my slight cringe, “They didn’t know I was only half elf, but now I would belong to neither race, for my face had been maimed beyond repair. I still spoke no more than I needed, and I planned my revenge on them in secret. I don’t know how long I stayed with them. The years went by painfully. My patience(for I had learned that the hard way) paid off one day when I was sent with the orcs to attack the forest of Greenwood, for Oropher’s kingdom had grown great in this time. I pretended to play along until we got to the edge of the forest. At the break of day, I slipped from under their notice(for there were elvish qualities I still had), and went to alert the king of the attack on his kingdom. The guards nearly killed me until I spoke to them in broken elvish. (for it had been awhile since I had spoken it willingly) Then they approached me cautiously, and it was clear they questioned my sanity, due of course to my rugged appearance. However, I was quite determined in my mission so I told them that I had valuable information concerning the safety of their king’s realm, and that I needed to speak to him personally. I could care less what they thought of me when they reluctantly agreed to grant my request. They asked me of my name, and I gave it to them. As I waited for them to return, my optimism started to sink lower at the prospect of the king actually listening and heeding my words. They returned rather quickly (much to my delight) and said that the king would see me, though it sounded like they couldn’t believe the very words they had just spoken. This surprised me beyond belief, and my face clearly showed it no doubt. I thought perhaps that maybe this king of elves was different from the others I had known. They showed me into his hall and there I beheld Oropher the Great with more interest than I thought I would have shown. He, on the other hand, was vastly interested in me. His face turned white at my presence, as though he had seen a spirit, and I later found out why. I didn’t notice this at first, for I was much too enraptured with the sight of the heavenly creature who sat on his left. She was the most beautiful elf or human I had ever seen, and it had been long since I had beheld any sort of beauty. The sight of her seemed to melt all my weariness away. I still remember the way she seemed to radiate like the sun in her white gown of shining satin, her hair white-golden like the dawn of a new day and falling about her shoulders like a waterfall. She turned her eyes towards me, and I beheld the most brilliant jewels in my lifetime. They were the brightest, clearest green. My eyes were like a cesspool compared to the sea of emerald hers were. It was then that I was incapable of all speech when she smiled a welcome at me, and my heart felt a new kind of pain, though I knew I was reaching for something I could not have.”
It was here that my pen stopped writing as he spoke these things, for he was painting the perfect picture of Nimloriel! I remember being shocked beyond reason and a little apprehensive. Nimloriel never told me of Esgal, and when I heard this news, my heart quivered with anxiousness for her. I decided not to let him know of our marriage, as it was clear he was very much in love with her still. (Not that anyone other than myself falling in love with her should be surprising) I wanted to keep his confidence.
“You are talking of the princess Nimloriel, then?” I asked harmlessly. He came out of his trance and gave me a look of half-surprise.
“You know her, then?”
“I do, in fact. She is very lovely.” I wondered if he could sense the protectiveness underneath the calm in my voice. He sighed quietly as I said this,
“Yes....she is very much so. And she is high above me in the world. Yet I shall never meet another like her.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked innocently.
“You shall soon see, my friend.” He said as he returned to his tale.
“As I said before, Oropher was greatly interested in me, and he allowed me to have a private audience with him. I was pleased, but his son, Thranduil was not. He, like everyone else I had met, did not trust me, and I guess I could understand why. He seemed to think me a spy, but I did not need to fear his ideal threats, for I had proof of my innocence. I planned to warn them and then leave as soon as possible. Where I might go, I had no inclination, but I wanted to regain the lost years of my life among the orcs, but fate it would seem had other plans. I told Oropher of the orcs’ plans, evidenced by the crude map the orcs had drawn of his kingdom that I had stolen. It was enough to convince him. He thanked me gratefully, and then asked of my history. I told him all about escaping Rivendell to find my mother’s rapist and of being a slave to the orcs. He seemed not surprised when I was telling him all this, and he nodded his head during different parts of my tale.
‘How strange for you to end up here. The lost son of Nerthaniel returns from the grave!’ He said as he eyed me, ‘I knew you looked like her when you came in, and there was no mistaking your strange name.’
I was now officially confused and demanded to know what he meant.
‘You knew my mother? Why did no one tell me of this?’ His voice was a lot calmer than mine,
‘Yes I knew her. She lived in this forest. I suppose no one told you because they wanted to protect you.’
I found this to be highly unlikely. ‘But that is in the past, you have saved many lives of my people with this news of the orcs assault. And for that, you may have a citizenship here, if you so desire.’
I figured I could stay here for now to try to find out more of my mother, even if no one here other than the king trusted me. I needed a rest anyway. The orcs were defeated, and when Oropher told of my help to them, more people were willing to let me stay there, even if they thought I was a little strange. They probably thought me orcish, because I had lived with them so long. Thranduil and I were civil to each other, but no more than civil. I suppose he didn’t approve of the way I looked at the maiden with the shining green eyes. I found out who she was soon. After the victory over the orcs, Nimloriel came up to thank me. I had been walking with Thranduil and she surprised us both.
‘Good sir.’ She said in her low, musical voice. ‘I never got to thank you personally for what you did for us, we are forever in your debt. I am afraid I know your name, but you do not know mine. I am Nimloriel, daughter of Prince Tingon.’ She bowed politely to me, and didn’t seem to notice the scars on my face. I was almost too abashed to reply. But I did, in fact, find my voice.
‘I know as much, my lady. Your cousin, Thranduil, has told me who you are, and I guessed when I first looked upon you that such a heavenly creature could not help but be of royalty.’ It seemed as though she always had a smile on her face, and she was the first person I had met who didn’t form an opinion of me by what she had heard. I tried to stay away from her, though, because I didn’t want her father to think me trying to do her harm, or to ruin her good name. Instead, I focused on trying to find out about my mother. I found out little at the time. Oropher and Tingon were very sly in the way they kept out the truth, and it angered me greatly, though I did not show it. I wondered what they tried to hide. The only person I knew who would probably help me was Nimloriel. She approached me one day and offered her friendship and I gladly took it. I had not had a friend in a long time, and I told her so.
‘But how can that be? Everyone needs and desires a friend.’ She asked me with her eyes full of concern. There was pity in them, and I hungered for it. I usually turned away pity from people, for I knew they did not truly want to help me. From Nimloriel it was different, it was like she understood me. I told her everything that happened in my life, including how I felt about it. I always felt it wise never to let your feelings show on something, as it would make you vulnerable. But I could not help it with her. She listened to me eagerly, and seemed to believe my account. She was angry when I was finished.
‘Why would the people of Rivendell do such a thing to your mother? There has to be more to it than what we know. Oh the horrible pride of my own race. Can’t they see it was there downfall? I know I’m certainly not one to judge them for their actions, since I have unbearable pride of my own, but can’t they see what I see in you, Esgal?’ She stopped and then looked at me closely. Her hands came to my face and she held them there gently as she looked into my eyes.
‘They even give you a name that carries sorrow in it. From now on, I shall not call you Esgal, but Galen. You have the deepest green eyes. No one wants to be sundered, no matter their situation in life.’ She let her hands fall from my face, much to my dismay, for I have never been touched in such a gentle way before. I was almost immune to it. My heart grew taut again, and I struggled to tear my eyes from her gaze.
‘And no one wants to choose which race to belong to, especially when they feel they belong to neither.’ I’ll never forget her response to me.
‘Perhaps I can make you change your mind about that.’ I looked at her questionably. ‘I want to help you find out your past, so that you can have what everyone denied you – the knowledge of who you truly are.’
It was impossible for her to suggest. I probably had to find out by desperate means, and having another involved in my troubles would be too dangerous.
‘No, Nimloriel, you are too hasty to suggest that. You may be cast out of your home for helping me.’
‘There is no way you can order me to do anything, Galen. I follow the convictions of my own conscience, and if I find myself in trouble, I will have no one to blame but myself. Besides, what is so wrong about someone trying to find out secrets of the past, even if no one else wishes them to be found out?’
‘But how shall you find out what you do not know?’
Several days passed, and I waited anxiously in my own quarters for any news. A couple days later, she came to me with her eyes alit with discovery.
‘Galen, I have found out your past! But, please do not do something you might regret when you hear it. I knew that my father and my uncle would not tell me anything different than what you received from them, so I knew that it was easier to ask someone else who might have known about you. Imareth is the chief handmaiden to my aunt, and she was my governess when I was young, and like a mother to me since it was long ago that my own mother died. I asked her casually about you, and explained the situation at hand. She is a very wise and considerate person, so she told me where I could find secret records my uncle made during the times of your mother. While my uncle and father were having a private counsel, I stole into my uncle’s personal library and found the records Imareth told me about. They contain information more alarming than I thought.’
She showed me the records and proceeded to tell me everything without hesitation. I heard about Galdor and his marriage to my mother. I saw the note which contained the refusal of my mother to return to Greenwood after she was captured, and I saw the birth record of my half-sister, Maegwen. I was numb with shock. I could not believe so much had been withheld from me. Nimloriel was equally indignant.
‘The atrocities pile higher and higher. I cannot believe this Galdor was so insufferable. My uncle concealed the knowledge that there was any person named Maegwen ever born – only a select few ever knew - and it looks like he actually pardoned Galdor for refusing your mother’s safe return here! Imareth told me later that she had personally taken care of Maegwen while Nerthaniel was on her way to Rivendell, and she saw Galdor take Maegwen away one day in great hastiness. She was sworn never to tell of his deed, and she figured all was well because of Oropher’s allowance in letting him leave where he wished. This is abominable!! How could he do such a thing?’
‘I know why.’ I answered distantly, ‘Galdor wanted no blemish on him. He knew that he did not adequately protect my mother when she was traveling to Rivendell and he wanted some way to cleanse his guilty conscience. Did anyone know where he went?’
Nimloriel shook her head sadly,
‘I’m not even sure my uncle knew, remember it says that Galdor left, but to an unknown destination.’
‘But not many people knew of this.’
‘It appears to be that way.’
I was determined to find out, and now that I knew the truth, I would hunt down Galdor and make him amend for this pain he caused my mother and me. I told Nimloriel I would approach the king about it, even if it meant my banishment forever from the forest. She tried to persuade me to leave quietly, and nearly begged me to do so, but I would not be moved. I loved her dearly, but I knew she didn’t return the feeling, and since I would never be able to marry her, I thought it best to leave her out of everything. I would pretend as though I had stolen the evidence of my past. My soul was weary with all these troubles, but I knew I would never have a peaceful life. I didn’t know what to think or believe anymore. I only knew I didn’t deserve the comforts and luxuries everyone else had.
I did approach Oropher, and presented him with my case. He was indignant of course that I had obtained these things, and tried to reason with me. He told me that that Galdor was disillusioned with pain when he heard the news of her capture, and didn’t know what to do. I refuted that very strongly, saying that he was drowned in the guiltiness of his conscience and knew he would never again have the dignity of his unstained reputation. There Oropher, Thranduil, and Tingon tried me with treason, saying that I was acting out of selfish desire. This may have been so, but they never took one moment to truly understand why I did as I did. I was but a half-elf, a weakling to them. I wanted to curse them to the ground, but instead I told them I would find Galdor with or without their help, and bring back my half-sister. They couldn’t deny my freedom to do as I will. Because of this, I was banished from Greenwood and labeled as a drow, forever to carry the mark of disdain. I knew as much would happen, but then I was faced with a new burden. I knew I would never see Nimloriel again. They would never allow me to come near her. I grew disheartened, but Nimloriel barged into the room at that moment. Her eyes were lit with fire and she spoke with a raging vehemence. She told them that stealing the documents were not my fault, and that she had assisted me. She boldly told them of their indifference and tried to lift the ban off of me. But even her resolute presence would not move them, and I suppose they thought she was mad. They sent me away and I will always remember the last thing she said to me.
‘Do not fear Galen, you will find what you desire. My friendship will go with you always.’
I whispered that I loved her, and her eyes grew very wide. I probably shouldn’t have told her, but I could not help it. She had to know how much she meant to me. From then on my heart was darkened, and I wandered around blindly in the world. I did not know how I would find Galdor, but slowly I found my own ways to discover information. When I was a boy, I had always warmed to animals greater than to humans, for I seemed to understand their ways better, and I knew that animals never betrayed their trust. I learned their language, and when I was among the orcs, the birds often came and gave me fruit as a friendship offering. In my wanderings, I came across the great eagles and befriended them. Once, I rescued a young hatchling who had fallen from his eyrie and was about to be consumed by a warg. I killed the warg and returned the baby to its mother. Her name was Mithlim. She promised to fulfill my debt, and so I asked her to survey the land for any news of a Galdor and an elven girl named Maegwen. I described them for her, and she set off one day in search of any news. She came back a week later and told me thus,
‘I visited the grey havens and asked of these persons you told me of. They live there in peace, and keep to themselves. You will have to convince them to let you in, for they are very protective of their havens.’ She told me where it was and I thanked her a thousand times for her help. I arrived one day and found a girl outside tending to her horse. She had dark hair and was very tall. I knew this had to be Maegwen. My journey had nearly come to its end.”
Here he stopped and allowed for Maegwen to tell her part of the tale. When I looked at her, she smiled shyly as she began.
“I suppose now you want to hear about how I came to be a part of this play. Very well, I shall. But first, you must take a glance back in my past, as Galen has done for you.” And so the maiden who had been so quiet during our meeting now lifted her bright blue eyes and spoke in a gentle, soft voice as she told her tale. Whatever harshness I might have felt come from her on our first meeting was now completely dissolved.
“As you know, my Lord, I grew up by the sea and loved it dearly. My father was never keen on the idea of me traveling far from home, and that was suitable for me, for I assumed that there was nothing else I could ever want in the world.
Many travelers came to my home. Many of them were elves who were sailing over to distant lands because they were weary of the world. I often wondered why they were so, and I never fully understood because I was so locked in a world of complacency. Yet it was my greatest delight to hear them tell their stories, whether they were filled with woe, or full of mystery. Those stories were my only window to the outside world and those people were living capsules of time. They were living proof of our history which seemed so much like a myth for those who never experienced it. Yet this did not make me want anything more than I already had, or so I thought.
One of the travelers I met was a human named Haben, who had come from the ruins of his home in a place called Nargathrond, and was looking for a new beginning. His affability with elves was due mainly to being among them at Nargathrond, so he had no problems in being involved with us at the havens. He was the first human I had ever met, and his family became the first human friends I would have. I was closest to his granddaughter Tirzah, and many of my own kindred scolded me for that.
“You’ll regret this friendship, Maegwen.” They always said, but I was too preoccupied with intrigue over these new people to mind their words. Tirzah was the dearest friend I have ever had. She laughed like the lark, and her exuberance for life was unceasing. She gave new insight on things I had never considered before. Her whole family was so different than anyone around me. I found myself longing for their same freedom from the cares of the world. For the first time in my life I was discontent with what I had. I envied Tirzah’s mortality, and she in turn envied what I had. She would go on and on about how I was so much more talented, beautiful, and wise than her, and how it was unfair how she could never amount to anything I did. (Which I thought was quite absurd. Tirzah was very beautiful and full of talent she never admitted to.) Anyway, we both had this turmoil of the soul – longing for something we could not have without ever admitting to it. I wanted to be a mortal so I could die as they do. I didn’t want to leave my family, but that subject of death and dying was unknown and mystical to me. I mentioned it in passing to my father and he grew terribly frightened. I can understand how he would be so, but I did not expect from him the action he took. I was old in the world’s terms, but very naïve in my own culture. I had much to learn, and I would learn it whether I wanted to or not.
My father then exercised his extreme sense of protection for me and ordered that Haden and his family (which had grown quite large) to leave the havens, though they had become good friends in the time they were there. They complied with him with little complaint, but I was mortified that my father would do such a thing and that it would be condoned by the other elves. What I knew of the world told me that it was not a safe place to life. I was terrified that I would loose Tirzah forever. She was not frightened, however, and she promised to come see me again.
‘Maegwen my sister, you are always in my heart. When I see you again, I’ll guarantee that I’ll be a better archer, and maybe then I will have the skill worthy of your competition.’ Those were her last words to me before she left, and she was dearer than a sister to me. I entertained her small hope, though somehow I knew.”
Maegwen dropped her gaze and from the corner of her eye, a solitary tear ran slowly down her stoic face. “I knew” She began again “That eternity would be how long I would have to wait until I saw her again.” She took a deep breath before going on.
“The news came fast. Haden’s traveling party was attacked by wargs on the way up North. We were told there were signs of a long struggle with the wargs, but when they were discovered, there was no one alive to tell for sure what happened. Not one person was alive.”
Here the poor lady could bear it no more, and she buried her face in her hands while she wept quietly. I pitied her immensely, but I was always uncomfortable in the presence of a lady shedding tears, so I thought to ease her in whatever way I could. I pulled out my wife’s handkerchief and offered it to her. She smiled and thanked me.
“You prove, then, that you really are gentle to the core, my Lord.” She said.
“Anyone would have done the same, Maegwen. And my name is Verdan if you don’t mind.” I said simply as I tried to comfort her. She nodded and then recovered enough to finish her story.
“I then felt the deepest pain I had ever known. I had lost my dearest friend, and I considered it came about because of my father. I blamed him too much for things beyond his control, even though he was very somber about the decision he’d made. He apologized to me, saying that he had made so many mistakes in the past. I was confused at that, but took no heed. I wanted to live no more, and since I could not do that, I decided to leave the home I had loved for so long. I left in secret to some caves I knew were refuges of many animals who had lost their homes, and I had befriended them in earlier times when they ventured far enough away to come visit the elves at the havens. I stayed there for awhile, though I felt remorse over blaming my father for the sorrows of my life. It would not too long until I fully understood how much my life had changed from that moment.
One day a raven told me that a strange visitor was roaming the land near my home. Rumors had been spread by the larger birds that he was looking for me, and I was curious, though I did not fully believe them. I arrived just before he did, and there he found me as though I were waiting for him. He was unlike anyone I had ever seen before, and I had seen a great many of people. He looked almost familiar, and then the stories the birds had been telling me came to my head - stories of a lone half-elf who walked the wilds in search of his lost soul. I wondered if they were true. He approached me and asked if I was Maegwen. I said yes, and he told me his name and that he had been looking for me and my father for quite some time. I offered him shelter, but then wondered if I was wise in doing so because I had run away from my home. I did not know if my father would receive me.
“Why do you hesitate? Do I frighten you so?” he asked me, and I could sense the pain in his voice as though he had been rejected all his life.
“No good sir, it’s just that I have run away from home and have recently returned. I have my own problems to sort out and it involves my father’s forgiveness….something I feel he may not have.” Esgal was surprised, but he then said,
“Then we have much in common…more so than I thought.”
And there Esgal told me of his past, about what my father did to our mother, how my father took me away, and why Esgal was condemned as a drow. I didn’t know whether to be believe him or not, but there was something in the way he spoke. It was so sincere, so full of pain. He showed me too the evidence of what happened and I at first could not believe the claims he made against my father, but in the back of my mind I was reminded of the times he spent wandering the halls muttering things I could not hear. I paid little heed to it then, but now everything was different. I was determined to find out the truth. I went into the library and found my father deep in meditation. His book on the desk he was leaning over was wet as though from tears. He looked up at me and got up immediately to embrace me. I knew then, that he had forgiveness for me.
“Father, you will forgive what I have done, won’t you?” I pleaded as I hugged him in return.
“Of course my daughter…nothing will ever make me turn away you.” He saw Esgal behind me and released me quickly in fear. It was like he knew him somehow. Esgal then confronted him with his account and demanded to know why he took me away. There was nothing my father could do, he admitted to everything Esgal said. I could not believe it. I didn’t want to think my father was so cruel. He looked so beaten and guilt stricken. I wanted to comfort him, but he pushed me away. Esgal did not condemn him as I thought he would, but asked if I could live with him if I so desired. Of course my father refused, but I put in my own word. I still loved my father, but my confidence in him was now shattered. He said that he regretted the decision he made about our mother, but felt he could do nothing to remedy it. He thought Esgal had died. Then he told us that Esgal’s real name was Galen, given to him by our mother.”
“It was then that I was truly amazed, for that was the same name Nimloriel gave me.” Esgal said.
Maegwen nodded and continued on.
“Galdor surrendered me at that moment, though he knew he was breaking a law by harboring Esgal and by allowing me to go with him.
‘You will both be drow now. You must understand that you will be all alone. I wish everything would have been different.’ He said. I felt so much pity for him, and I told him I would love him always, despite the mistakes he had made. I no longer harbored hate for what happened to Tirzah. He said the only thing that could heal him was returning to the blessed realm, so that night we both watched him sail away forever. No one save us and Cirdan knew of his going. We knew now that we would be alone in the world. But now an unbreakable bond had formed between us. And there was no denying that. So we came here, and you are the only one who has found their way in here.”
“And we see now” Esgal said “That you did not come here by chance.”
I could barely think of what to say, I was taken aback by everything.
“Why do you not call yourself Galen, Esgal?” I asked curiously
“Simply because it would bring too much pain in remembering Nimloriel and my mother. I would never forget Nimloriel, but I would never know if she ever loved me. I often wondered if….if she ever married, but I knew that I would never know for sure. ”
I was moved beyond words with this whole tale, and so I decided to tell him everything.
“Perhaps you can know. Nimloriel is very fine. In fact, she is about to give birth to her first child. I hope to see them both soon.”
Esgal looked at me with deep understanding and respect.
“I knew that she always deserved a person like you. She is happy then?”
“Very much so, as am I. I am very happy to be the one to give her the love and protection she deserves.”
“As long as the world is ready to receive us.”
Lillianna wrinkled her brow in confusion.
“It just ends like that.” she said as she sighed in exasperation, “Now I shall never know what became of them.”
She looked over at Galadriel whose eyes were closed and her face downward.
“I never knew they went through so much. They never said anything about their misfortunes.” She opened her eyes and faced Lillianna,
“I will tell you what happened after this account. We were vastly worried when Verdan didn’t send word within that week’s time, and we were afraid Nimloriel would have to give birth to a fatherless child. But it turned out to be not so. He came to Greenwood with Maegwen and Esgal and asked for a pardon on their behalf. He told Oropher they had helped him when he was there, and that they did not do any great evil in this world. Their past was unknown to anyone save Nimloriel, Tingon, Thranduil, and Oropher. Everyone else thought them mysterious and aloof. They wished only for acceptance, they said, and I remember I heard that Nimloriel offered for them to live in Greenwood. They declined however, and decided to live by the havens, for Maegwen missed the sea. I met them once, but only once and after they departed to the havens, they were never seen again. Perhaps they were allowed to sail over the sea by the grace of Manwe, or maybe Esgal decided to be of the race of men, and traveled over to Numenor. No one except Verdan and Nimloriel knew what became of them. One thing I did know, was that Esgal felt the burden of his love for Nimloriel too strong to remain near her. He gave her a ring, though, so that she would not forget him. I found that very moving, and knew that his heart had been healed by her friendship. It is amazing how much the heart can endure.”
Lillianna listened in awe at the story of these two people, and nodded when Galadriel said her last words.
“It is indeed.”
She clutched the book very close to her chest, as if it were bringing her closer to the father she never knew and the lives he touched while upon this earth.
