Summary:
The love of the dragon and star is discovered by the High King, and soon they march to Amon-Sul to await Gil-galad while across the Great Sea a Dragon demands fealty from the Lords of Westeros.
Notes:
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Chapter Text
Almost two years had passed since the Westerosi had gone to the North, but those days of peace would soon be at an end, for they would soon march on Amun-Sul to meet Gil-galad and the Noldor and from there march southward to the aid of Gondor.
Indeed life in Annúminas became much the same as it was in Osgiliath Jon often headed the training of soldiers and forging of weapons while his kin set about making themselves useful. Arya aided Loras in the City Watch, Shiera and Ashara had taken on new healers, even Sansa had reopened her sewing house to make comfortable uniforms and leathers for the soldiers.
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He spent many days in the forges toiling before the anvil fashioning weapons of great beauty, and fairest gems for his lady loves until, at last, he was visited by Loras and Robar. They bid the finest arms wrought by his hammer for the coming war, commonly if one were so bold as to order him, Jon would refuse, but he could never deny his oldest friends such a boon and so he set hammer to the anvil and endeavoured to make blades of Valyrian steel for the both of them.
Loras's blade was a Greatsword of remarkable beauty; The blade itself was of a greenish hue that glittered as the leaves of spring in the light of the forge, its grip and guard carven with many curling vines and flowers whose petals were gems and the pommel forged from a single yellowish topaz shaped to resemble the three roses of his brothers' surcoat in days long past.
For Robar's sword, he remembered House Royce had once possessed a Valyrian steel blade Lamentation.
Ser Willam Royce wielded the sword during the Dance with Dragons. However, the sword was torn from Willam's hand when he was killed during the Ride of the Seven. With Willam's death, the sword was taken from his corpse and was never found again.
There was little mention of Lamentation's appearance save runes ran down the blade, so he fashioned a sword both broad and powerful with a single fuller along its length traced with the devices of the First men, the guard of bronzed steel and the grip wrapped in rich blackened leather; the pommel was wrought from a single piece of bronze circled in dwarvish runes; it was a worthy blade for a Runic Lord.
When he had given his brothers in arms their blades, they were so astounded Jon thought they might try and kiss him; indeed, he was adamant the only thing thwarting them was the presence of Lady Andreth and Rhaenys.
He too forged barding for Lòmerocco and Calithiliel fashioned from glittering Noldorian steel such was their beauty they shone as the stars; similarly, their caparisons were exceedingly beautiful sewn silvered and golden silk, his bearing the dragon of Targaryen while his Star proudly displayed the glimmering sun of Finarfin.
Galadriel was greatly pleased by his gifts and would've rewarded him had it not been for the presence of her ladies-in-waiting and the guards of the household.
Although when Rhaenys discovered that the Lady of Light was granted such a gift, his sister bid him fashion barding for her steed, rather an odd request as his sister cared little for fighting on horseback, Arianne and Arya made similar pleas, so he set to work once more, and each horse was akin to the mounts of Elder days.
Alas, all was not of merriment King Elendil had summoned him to the Chamber of the Palantir, he knew he would one day have to account for his boldness, but Jon had hoped beyond foolishness that none should be brought to light ere the war ended.
Still, he had known it for the best lest it came to light before they marched and the relations between the Noldor and Dúnedain were riven beyond restoration; Jon well knew he may lose all respect in the eyes of Elves and men, but he had cared little for he would not forsake his beloved elves, he was a dragon of Targaryen and answered to none save the Valar.
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Flashback.
Jon walked down the winding halls of the King's Palace, Elendil had summoned him to the chamber of the Palantir, and he knew well the reason, yet as he finally reached the door, Jon was surprised to find it ajar.
Offering a prayer to the Valar, Jon knocked thrice upon the wooden door and was welcomed by the King's voice.
"Come in…" The King said, and he entered the chambers though with a great sense of dread, not knowing what awaited him.
The Palantir's chamber was, as he remembered, a room of marble and gold with constellations of sapphire and diamonds; in the centre of the room upon its plinth of stone, sat the Stone of Annúminas.
Beside the stone of jet stood Elendil hand outstretched, his face dour, undoubtedly exerting his will upon the stone.
"You summoned me, my King", Jon said gloomily.
"Aye, close and secure the door. Be swift!" Growled the King, not bothering to meet his gaze; he quickly did as Elendil bid though wondered why the King demanded such secrecy none may ascend the stairs save by his command.
Nought was said for what felt an Age Elendil stood there stiff as stone peering into the Palantir. Indeed, he began to wonder if his King had merely wished to frighten him; then, at last Elendil turned to face him, his countenance dour.
"Is all well in the South, my King? Has something gone sour with the defence of Osgiliath?" Jon asked, eager to hear from Anárion.
"No, Anárion is well though Orodruin has burst into flame, and he has sent word of scores of Easterlings and other foul creatures marching through Ithilien towards the Black Gate," Said Elendil gravely, and Jon's countenance darkened.
"Shall we march south?" Jon asked, concerned.
"No.." said Elendil bluntly.
"No?" Jon asked, unsure if he heard his King rightly.
"No, unfortunately, the Palantir's reach is long though I dare not peer into the Ithil stone not while it is in the enemies keeping, so we shall wait until our host is united with Gil-galad," Elendil said grimly.
"I understand…" He conceded, yet perhaps he should not have spoken, for when he met Elendil's gaze, Jon felt as if he were a boy again being chastised for some wrongdoing.
"Yes, Sauron shall be dealt with in time though I shall speak no more of the Lord of Mordor; he is not the reason I summoned you here." Said Elendil, and a flash of anger crossed his face when his eyes fell upon the ring of Maltagil, which proudly bore the sunburst of Finarfin.
Jon merely nodded, knowing what was to come.
"Since the day of our first meeting, there was something about you, you were, but a boy yet stood lofty as a Lord of Westernesse; this was proven by your wisdom and might yet also your desire for women,' said Elendil his voice cold as iron. 'So, I shall ask you plainly, Jon, how was it that the greatest and wisest of the Noldor betrayed the laws of her people?... forsaking her husband, who will one day depart the Halls of Mandos,'
"She did not betray him, my love…Galadriel did not betray Lord Celeborn…He asked the Valar to annul their marriage so that she could love and marry again…" Jon said, his voice growing in power and authority. Much to the amazement of Elendil, who looked at him in bewilderment.
"Has her marriage truly been annulled?" said Elendil in astonishment.
"So, it was... The Valar summoned Galadriel in a dream to convey Lord Celeborn's decision to annul their marriage; it was shortly after my resurrection and departure to Khazad-dûm," Jon said, recalling those years when his life was abundantly complicated.
"Why did you not speak of this before?" harsh as an old raven's, Elendil's voice sounded in his ears, and Jon knew his Lord was wholly displeased to have been lied to these many years, yet he must remain strong and so continued.
"It was not my place to speak of such things, my King... it was a time of misery for Galadriel... and myself..." Jon said, his heart heavy with grief, knowing the part he had played in the Elven Lords' end.
Seeing the melancholy in his knight's eyes, Elendil's gaze softened, understanding that the many long years had done little to quiet the pain of losing Celeborn.
"Though many long years have passed since that day... Therefore, my King, I will recount to you the story of Galadriel and I as best I can tell it," Jon said earnestly.
"Jon, I ask you to speak truly... Did you love her? Did you love the Lady Galadriel while she was wed to Celeborn?" Elendil questioned, and to his sorrow, Jon nodded.
"I have loved my Star since I slew the Worm those many years ago", Jon answered in part pride and sorrow.
"What?" Elendil asked in disbelief, and Jon merely smiled at his shock.
And so, Jon began to recite the tale of himself and Galadriel, some parts of which were wholly new to Elendil, and he listened with astonishment as his young friend recounted all his adventures with the Lady of Light, at full length. He did not omit a single detail. Indeed, Elendil wagered his Knight would've spoken of their journies in East had if he had been allowed; but He raised his hand bidding Jon finish.
"And thus, we have been together ever since none save my family, and hers knew of our love until now at least," Jon said, reaching down the front of his tunic and revealing the silvered medallions he carried.
'Mithril', Elendil muttered in astonishment; his awe turned to stupefaction when Jon opened the left locket revealing five tresses of gold yet richer and more radiant, touched by some memory of the starlike silver there were none in Arda who possessed such loveliness save one Elf.
He could not speak; it was as if the world had been rid of sound, merely looking from Jon to his medallion several times, hoping it was a mere jape and Jon would laugh at any moment, but none came then Elendil truly knew his servant spoke no falsehood.
Truly fate was strange, for this young man had ensnared the hearts of not one but two princesses of such lofty standing that many would fight wars even for but a favour; he knew the Elves held marriage as the most sacred declaration of love, and there was no doubt in Elendil's mind that when the Noldor learned of this their wroth would be terrible to behold.
"Do you know the hardships you shall face once the Noldor discover your duplicity in wedding both princesses?" Elendil asked, bringing his hands to his head.
"Yes…I know very well…And I care little I've fought dragons, and Orcs! I've fought the cruel Easterlings, and the Nazgul themselves! I crossed swords with Glorfindel, the Lord of Golden Flowers! I have stood before the throne of Manwe and did not cower. None shall keep me from my loves, not Sauron, not Gil-galad, not even if Finarfin himself crossed the sea to part us," And for a moment, Elendil swore Jon had grown in stature, his eyes flickering like flame, and a crown of light rested upon his brow, as if Manwe himself had crowned the boy with the flame eternal.
"I don't know if you say such foolish things because you're a fool or in love… Although those are far too similar for my liking," Elendil said, looking at the ring of Maltagil once more.
'Soon Gil-galad and Finarfin shall learn of their union, and then Jon…My heart tells me that you must prove your worth before him, and all those characters from the legends of old' Elendil thought with a strange feeling in his heart about him. Jon's future.
"I'd wager you and Gil-galad would tell I am foolish," Jon said with a slight smile.
"And I wouldn't hesitate to name you thus…I simply hope that Gil-galad doesn't discover this shortly, or you shan't have to concern yourself with talk of war…Either that or you'll have to find another way to please your lovers," Elendil said good-naturedly, and Jon grimaced.
"Yes, I have that same feeling, though…My beloved Lalwen and Galadriel confessed to me long ago that King Gil-galad always intended Lalwen to become my consort," Jon said to Elendil's surprise.
"You speak truly?" Elendil asked in surprise though he quickly understood that this was the reason his friend had allowed Lady Írimë to accompany the Westerosi.
'He desires a new Union of Elves and Men; well, my friend…it seems your schemes have borne fruit though not n the way you intended', Elendil thought, guessing his friends' true intentions.
"I can hardly believe your…Fortune, Baelon Targaryen…You bear the love of two Princesses of the Noldor, one being Galadriel herself…Fortune or damnation, I don't know what awaits you when the Eldar learn of this, but it shall be a prickly path…The Eldar don't abide change readily," Elendil said gravely, placing a hand on Jon's shoulder.
"To what end this may lead, I cannot say; even in Westeros, the customs of my forbears caused many issues though I swear by my life that we shall not trouble you, my King, nor any of your realms. On the contrary, we merely wish happiness even if the Noldor will struggle to bear it," Jon said grimly.
"At least you're aware of that, although I'm afraid there's little, I can do to help you, and even less now… what a problem you and your Ladies have gotten us all into… Elves are uncompromising as the Dwarves; even if they don't desire to confess it, you mustn't speak a word of this to anyone until the war is over…' said Elendil sternly. 'You must reveal your relationship yourselves; the Noldor shall take great offence to their traditions should they discover otherwise,"
"I…I know our love shall not be secreted evermore," Jon said, choosing his words carefully.
"Don't mistake me, Jon... I can no more command you than I can order the Anduin flow upstream, yet I hope you shall take what I've said to heart lest the reputations of Galadriel and Írimë are diminished," Elendil said gravely, and Jon nodded.
"I…I won't let that happen, even if I must bear the blame and say I compelled them to love me," Jon said as Elendil chuckled.
"I doubt any Man or Elf may compel them to any end…Don't be so naive, Jon, although perhaps that's why they hold you so dear," Elendil said amusedly.
"Yes, they repeatedly tell me that I am their foolish wolf," Jon said, and the King laughed once more.
"Aye, I've seen, and yet you go out of your way to gift them jewels and objects of great beauty like Lady Írimë's Maltagil necklace and Lady Galadriel's crown of silver…." Elendil said, departing the room with Jon following swiftly behind.
"Yes, as Prince Elendur wisely said, the wrath of women can be subdued with fine gems, and in the case of Noldorian women, that bears truth", Jon soughed, knowing the love Galadriel and Lalwen held for his creations.
'Hold a moment, Jon. I have a gift for you,' said Elendil turning to him.
"A gift?" Jon asked, intrigued.
'For you, my most devoted servant and loremaster,' Elendil said to him, 'I have only a small gift.' He put into his hand a book of reddish leather, and upon it face written in Adûnaic scripts was the title Akallabêth. 'This book tells of the Downfall of Numenor, ' Jon muttered in astonishment.
'It tells of the histories of our peoples beginning with Edain's departure from Middle-earth and the reigns of each King beginning with Elros Tar-Minyatur and ending with the Kingship of Ar-Pharazôn as well as the sundering of our people and lastly the coming of Sauron and the fall of our home' Elendil said eyes flicked with tears.
"My King... tis it not cruel to relieve such tragedy," Jon said sadly, but Elendil silenced him.
"No…It is needed; the study of Númenor's history has been suppressed in our realms many see it as a vain pursuit, breeding only hopeless regret; alas, the young know not what we lost while the old forget the true name of Númenor was Elenna-nórë, Land of Gift and so I have penned this account so that all may learn from it I too speak of the pride that Ar-Pharazôn possessed and that of his impious armada as well as divine punishment Eru visited upon him for his arrogance and treachery," Elendil said with a melancholy solemnity, no doubt remembering all Númenóreans relinquished for their last King.
He gazed longingly at the book admiring the soft leather bindings and the silvered lettering, and when he opened it, Jon was astonished, for it was written in thin Quenya script that many save the eldest of Middle earth had forgotten.
"It's…Glorious," Jon said, and Elendil laughed heartily.
"Aye, one I gift to you, and its twin I sent south with Isildur for safe keeping," Elendil said proudly, and Jon's eye widened in wonderment.
"My...My King, if so, I'm afraid I can't accept your gift...a thing of such worth should be held in the treasure hordes of the Elves of the West," Jon said humbly, though in his heart there was a fierce desire to read the tome before returning it.
"Of course, you shall accept and read it, for my heart tells me that you will spread this tale to distant lands in the years ahead," Elendil said sagely.
"As my King commands," Jon said, opening the book again, and Elendil soughed angrily.
'No wonder his concubines treat him like a fool.' Thought the Great King of the Dúnedain, knowing that his young counsellor would devote the remainder of the day to reading the tome, perhaps shirking his duties.
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From that day on, King Elendil's relations with Lalwen and Galadriel were of a sterner nature, his King had the good sense not to repudiate either of them; alas, Galadriel was discontented by the King's impertinence even if his words held merit, there was little they could do to conceal their love from the Elves especially as they desired to have children.
Though not all was bad, Jon greatly valued his King's gift, spending much of his free time reading the book, especially enjoying the chapters concerning the founding of Númenor by Elros as well as the many deeds of Tar-Minastir.
However, He hid the book from others... especially from Galadriel and Shiera, as they enjoyed reading immensely, he knew if they discovered it, they would demand to borrow it, and Valar knows he wouldn't see it again for many years.
Of course, Jon intended to lend them the book only that he would do so when he was done with it, though Jon had noticed that his loved ones were eyeing him carefully as if they had gleaned his true intentions. Indeed, more than once, he was forced to defend his mind to avoid the occasional prying of Lalwen and Galadriel, yet this merely enflamed their curiosity so much so that, after the seventh time, Galadriel then plainly asked him if he was hiding something; fortunately, duties called him away, and they spoke no more on the subject.
Although he knew Galadriel and Shiera would make him pay for not sharing King Elendil's gift with them... Undoubtedly, he had become akin to a dragon, hoarding what he desired above all knowledge.
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Thus life turned bittersweet as they were drawn apart by the duties of war; He spent many days in the forges or drilling the soldiers while Loras and Robar journeyed to the backcountries to scour the lands of beast and brigands who had long been in service of the Enemy, they seldom had time for each other but knew the days of strife would be long and cruel so best to make the most of what they did have.
Yet after many months of great toil, it was time to leave Arnor... On the morning of November fifteenth, in the Three thousandth four hundredth thirty-first year of the Second Age, just as the sun rose on the shores of Evendim, emissaries from King Gil-galad arrived, proclaiming their lord was keen to march and would meet them at Amon Sûl.
The time had come the armies of the Dúnedain, and the Eldar would march together as in the days of old to cast down the Dark Lord.
King Elendil rose from his throne and ordered all the hosts be marshalled, and just as the Great King ordered, so it was done, and at once, the horns of the North rang clear, for the men of the sea were going to war.
All that remained was to decide their route to Amon Sûl; after much talk, it was determined the best course was the Great Eastern Road that ran from the Grey Havens to Imladris, marching at doubled swiftness so they would reach the tower in two weeks rather than three.
And so, with all their plans in order, they began their march from Annúminas, marching onward to the greatest battle of the Age, one the minstrels would sing of as the War of the Last Alliance.
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Despite the shortness of leagues between Annúminas and Amon Sûl and the swiftness of their march, the journey was unhurried the armies of Arnor were vast and covered the land from North to South, and there were too few horses, so many travelled on foot.
His Lalwen chose to travel in a covered wheelhouse, even offering him shelter inside, but he refused, preferring to ride alongside the men and Galadriel, who trotted alongside him on her snowy mare. Guilelessly, Írimë said nothing and bid them farewell, but those who knew her could tell the Princess was displeased though none more so than Jon himself, who knew that they would seldom have privacy from prying eyes during the march.
In this way, they had begun their journey to Amon Sûl, each night the fields of Arnor were dotted with the tents of many princes and captains such as had not been seen since the Elder Days often times he would find himself in the war tent of his King sharing news of the South Kingdom and their strategies of war.
Often Galadriel was a guest of honour and shared her wisdom and foresight with the Dúnedain ever by his side just as she had done for Celeborn, though none save Elendil and Isildur knew the true reason for their closeness, it was not overlooked by the Dúnedain that the relationship between their Lord and the Lady of Light seemed callous with the nought but courtesy preventing hostility.
Indeed, Galadriel often spoke to Jon of Elendil's coldness and how it displeased her that he would draw such attention to their marriage; in the end, she accepted Elendil's words as true... when Sauron had been cast down, and peace lay before them she would declare their love before Elves and Men damned the consequence.
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"Aaahhh…Thank you, Lalwen," Jon said wearily as his beloved attempted to release the knots from his legs and back after two days of hard riding.
"You're welcome, Nin Mel," Írimë said merrily.
"By the Valar", Rhaenys growled angrily, wholly displeased her chiefest rival was tending to her beloved brother's wants as if she were his true wife.
"How about Nin Mel?... Are you feeling better?" Lalwen asked, kneading his shoulders with deft hands while he groaned in appreciation.
"Much better... The King's War Councils are more and more frequent, my beloved Sunflower," Jon said, noticing his sisters' displeasure when he praised Írimë's tenderness.
His sister's vexation was shared by Arianne, Dany, Shiera and Ashara, who had come to visit him only to discover he was with Írimë.
It was already the hour of the wolf, and all the noble Ladies had gone to bathe in the nearby stream, leaving themselves fresh and smelling of sweet aromatic oils, and each wore delicate gowns that did little to hide their buxom forms from his prying eyes.
"I am gladdened, my love... now rest," Lalwen said, concluding her massage by laying his head in her soft lap.
"Thank you..." Jon groaned happily, but at that moment, Rhaenys appeared before him, her eyes mischievous though before he could question her, his sister grasped his foot and slowly kneaded the muscles from heel to hem.
"Aaahh…Rhaenys," Jon grunted in shock as he hadn't an inkling that his sister was so skilled with her hands.
"You see, little brother, your elven witch is not the only one who knows how to alleviate your weariness and hurt..." Rhaenys said, looking at Írimë with sufficiency while she only looked at her coldly.
"Enough, cousin, the moon is high; I desire to sleep peacefully..." Arianne said in a calming fashion; although her eyes betrayed her envy, it had been some three days since her time with him, and Rhaenys, ever prideful, cast down her eyes and continued with her own ministrations.
"Aaah, Rhaenys, dear sister...I didn't know you possessed such skill" He groaned, delighted by the deftness of his sister's touch; it seemed despite all her time spent in the yard, her hands were still velvety as silk.
"That would be thanks to me; Rhaenys sought me out days ago eager to learn the arts of healing..." Daenerys said, laying her needles aside and glowering at her niece.
"Daenerys!" Rhaenys growled in embarrassment.
"Sshhh, hush girl...Your grandmother is still asleep," Shiera grumbled before stowing her book and blowing out the candle. Fortunately, his grandmother didn't stir though Rhaenys face reddened as she hoped to hide her embarrassment.
"Jon, dear... Do you know when we will arrive at Amon Sûl?... I'm tired of this march," Ashara yawned, laying her head on Shiera's breast.
"Yes, my White Wolf...Tell me it won't be long now," Seconded Arianne pleadingly as she crawled towards him, revealing her ample bosom and buxom form, much to his delight.
"Don't worry, Ari, I spoke with Elendil earlier; we shall arrive at the Tower tomorrow around noon should nothing hinder our path", Jon groaned, struggling to master his lust as Rhaenys and Lalwen's tender touches soothed his aching body.
"Oh, thank the Valar..." Arianne purred, drawing nearer to him, yet her way was suddenly barred by Rhaenys and Lalwen, who seemed to have found common cause in spiting his viper.
"Keep back, cousin... you've had your time," Rhaenys growled.
"I rarely agree with Rhaenys but begone Arianne..." Írimë seconded as Arianne frowned and rose from the bed while Ashara, Shiera and Daenerys giggled at her ill fortune.
"Fine, but I won't forget this…" Arianne growled, yet swifter than they could notice; she slithered through their embrace and kissed him before slinking away.
"Arianne!" Írimë and Rhaenys bellowed simultaneously before glancing at each other dismayed they had found common cause.
"Oh, Jon, it seems Loras, and Robar are wholly enamoured of your gifts," Shiera said softly, tenderly caressing Ashara's ebon tresses.
"I have no doubt, my silver dragon, though their Houses are renowned neither bore a sword of Valyrian make though in the case of House Royce it was no fault of their own as Lamentation was lost a century ago, and now they may leave me in peace for no gift can surpass such blades," Jon said enjoying Rhaenys massage even with his head lying on Lalwen's lap who was playing with his hair.
"Yes, but it seems you've been thoughtless, my beloved brute…." Shiera muttered enviously.
"I know, my dragon forgive me; I had meant to fashion you more jewels, but other thoughts occupy my mind," Jon glancing at Shiera wearily.
"We know, dear, don't worry yourself with such trivialities," Ashara said, glowering at Shiera, who merely smiled in delight.
"Don't fret, Jon; you have given us enough jewels for a lifetime", said Daenerys mirthfully, not looking up from her knitting.
"Well, actually…" Shiera began to say, but she was swiftly silenced by Ashara, who glowered at her.
"Let us rest, my love", Ashara growled, denying Shiera the chance to speak.
"The King has ordered that after assembling in Amon Sûl, we will leave for Imladris...There I will be able to forge for you...I will..." Jon murmured wearily before falling asleep.
" It seems our wolf could not stave off dreams much longer, " said Arianne, yawning.
"He's not the only one," Daenerys seconded, placing her thread and needles on the side table.
"Sleep well, Nin Mel", Írimë whispered, caressing her husband's face as he succumbed to weariness.
"Aahhh…Jon seems so lovely when he sleeps," Ashara said, not moving from Shiera's bosom.
"Aye, until he wakes and begins speaking," said Shiera amusedly.
"Do not be so cruel, Shiera! Jon faces far too much for one so young," Daenerys growled angrily, displeased with Shiera's cheek.
"We know Daenerys… We're merely having a bit of fun at the expense of our wolf," Arianne said sleepily.
"How is your dear niece Írimë?" Rhaenys asked rudely; Írimë's countenance soured at the young Targaryen's lack of courtesy, but she relented.
"In her tent, surely jealous of me and longing to lay with our beloved fool," Lalwen said with satisfaction to the merriment of all present.
"Well, the Lady of Light can't always win…." Shiera said happily. Indeed, the thought of humbling the Lady of Light amused her greatly.
"Oh, my niece won't accept this lightly, and I'm certain she'll wish to punish us in some fashion...Although it's not our fault, but such is Artanis's pride," Írimë moaned.
"The Wisest Lady of the Noldor is akin to…." Ashara began.
"A capricious and desirous girl…Yes, I thought that Artanis would have wisened with the long count of years, but it seems that our beloved blooms happiness in those dearest to him yet likewise makes them act as foolish as himself," Írimë said, caressing Jon's face lovingly.
They all nodded in agreement before each girl went to their personal cots, and Írimë blew out the last candle and soon, each was fast asleep, wondering what the next day might bring.
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It was already mid-day when they drew near ... a grey-green bank, leading up like a bridge onto the northward slope of the hill, and that is when they saw it rising proudly from the ring of hills Amon Sûl the Tower and its walls were... splendid, both carved from whitish stone that shone like a pearl of silver in the midmorning sun. Truly they had not seen an edifice of such loveliness save Orthanc in the South, and lovely though the tower might be, the true treasure lay inside one of the Seven Seer Stones brought from Númenor.
"We have arrived…." King Elendil said, halting his horse as the soldiers scurried about setting up a suitable camp.
"It seems we arrived first," Isildur said, seeing no sign of Gil-galad or his host.
"So, it seems," Jon said, dismounting his horse before moving to aid Galadriel off of hers.
"I give thanks for such courtesy, Jon," she said, kissing him softly on the cheek; commonly, Jon would welcome such affections were it not for the Elves and Men eyeing him queerly.
'It's merely a harmless kiss on the cheek, my Foolish Wolf; none could glean much from that' She chortled merrily, enjoying her beloved's embarrassment.
'There is nothing harmless about you, my beloved Star!' Jon replied, not fooled by her words, and Galadriel laughed once again.
'Ah, you are growing wiser, my Wolf; remember that today I finally have you for myself….' She purred though their tender exchange was ruined by her beloved's cousin.
"Jon!" Arya cried before barrelling into him; indeed, Galadriel would have found this amusing had the foolish girl not ruined her moment with Jon.
"Arya!" Jon cursed, angered that she would interrupt his spare moments with Galadriel.
"It's your fault, King Elendil bids that you aid Isildur in the making of the camp though it seems you were distracted," Arya growled, eyeing Galadriel evilly; Galadriel merely smiled at the young Stark's cheek, leaning forward, she whispered in the girl's ear.
"I'm afraid it's too late young wolf...Jon belongs to me, he may love others too, but my aunt and I are the dearest in his heart, though that honour shall be mine alone soon enough..." Galadriel said before kissing Arya on the forehead, much to the girls' vexation.
"Oh, by the Valar", Arya said though before she could further her grievances, he took her by the cheek.
"Thank you, Arya; I'll aid Isildur as soon as I'm able. Now, make yourself useful lest I have you tend the baggage train!" Jon said, enjoying the look of horror that marred his cousin's face.
'Oh, my foolish Wolf, you are slow to forgive', Galadriel said, amused.
'Much as you are my precious Star…Well, my love, I'm afraid we must be parted for now… Jon said gloomily, and she was likened to her husband in mood.
For she, the wisest of the Noldor had fallen hopelessly in love. Jon was dearer to her than air and water; some may think it obsession, but she cared little; nothing would see her parted from her beloved wolf, though they must be patient if their love hoped to bloom evergreen.
After Jon departed with Arya following close behind, Galadriel sought for her Captains Gailben, Pethrion and Narwion, who, upon seeing her, prostrated themselves.
"My Lady…" Narwion said.
"The Dúnedain are making camp, take the men and help them…King Gil-galad will be here soon," Galadriel ordered, and the three nodded.
"As my Lady commands..." Gailben said before leading his compatriots to aid the Dúnedain in whatever they might need.
Certain now her men aided the Dúnedain, the Lady of Light strolled towards the tower. After half an hour's plodding climb, Galadriel reached the crown of the hill... where she was welcomed by the guards of the tower; upon peering into their thoughts, she learned Elendil had forbidden all but his closest kin from entry; however, upon seeing her, the guard made no motion to bar her way.
As she passed them, the guard bowed low and opened the large oaken doors.
"Would you like me to escort you to the King, my Lady?" asked the elder of the two.
"That won't be necessary…You can continue your duty, Sers," Galadriel said, gladdened by their courtesy; the men nodded and opened the large door allowing her entry into the towers hall.
The Tower of Amon Sûl was impressive upon first glance; yet the interior was homelier with several bed chambers and the great hall, yet there too was great beauty in the tower, for at the end of the long hall was a winding stair of silvered stone, they spiralled upward to the summit of the tower where the Palantir sat... it seemed it was time that she spoke with the High King herself whether it would be for good or ill she could only guess.
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Upon reaching the summit, Galadriel, saw all round below her a wide prospect, for the most part of lands empty and featureless, except for patches of woodland away to the south, beyond which they caught here and there the glint of distant water. Beneath her on this southern side there ran like a ribbon the Great Road, coming out of the West and winding up and down, until it faded behind a ridge of dark land to the east. Following its line eastward with her eyes she saw the Mountains: the nearer foothills were brown and sombre; behind them stood taller shapes of grey, and behind those again were high white peaks glimmering among the clouds, yet she had little time to appreciate the beauty of the land her attention drawn to the sole occupant of the chamber.
Elendil, who stood before the seeing stone deep in thought, no doubt searching for the coming of the Noldorian host, nought was said for several minutes until, at last, Elendil opened his eyes and turned to address her.
"Gil-galad and his troops are very close... They will be here at nightfall... But that is not why you are here; I knew you would seek me out, My Lady," Elendil said.
"This conversation was long coming, yet other perils have demanded our attention, but you know what we shall speak of…." Galadriel said impassively, and Elendil nodded.
"Jon…" answered Elendil and Galadriel nodded.
"You are the first person besides Celebrian to whom I admit my love for my Wolf..." Galadriel said with a sad smile, while Elendil arched an eyebrow upon hearing her nickname for his knight.
"I dreaded this day since I first learned of your love though I don't know what you wish of me, my Lady. I have no intention of revealing your relationship if that is your fear; I am merely worried about Jon's safety when your kin discover this... they shall demand satisfaction for such a slight, and I'd wager the closeness of our people will be broken…." Elendil sighed, and Galadriel cast down her proud eyes.
"You speak truthfully and wisely, Son of Amandil, and your fears are well founded; my people do not accept change readily.' Galadriel said, 'but I can't restrain what I feel;Valar knows that I tried... I truly tried, but my heart could not be denied,"
In that moment, Elendil pitied her truly to love one so fiercely that it goes against the very laws the Valar ordained; it was as the tale of Beren and Lúthien come again romance forbidden least one proves their worth though his knight had proved his many times over Elendil could do little save offer comfort and counsel.
"Jon told me the story of your affair. I shall not beg you relieve such hardships, my Lady. I shall not be so quick to deal out death and judgment, he knows well the peril such love shall bring, and there is nought I could say to dissuade him from this," Elendil said, striding towards the stairs,
"Jon is loyal to you... He will carry out any order you give him..." said Galadriel, and the High King laughed mightily.
"Yes, but all true loyalty always has an end, that is known by all of us who refused to join King Ar-Pharazôn's folly when he declared war on the Valar; no, even if I ordered he to be parted from you, he would challenge me for Lordship of the Dúnedain," Elendil answered, and Galadriel smiled knowing how dearly her wolf loved her.
'Oh, my foolish Wolf, on our journey through the Sea of Rhûn, when you retrieved those treasures from its depths, you underestimated my love for you, and now I see the same was true of you,' Galadriel thought, shedding tears of happiness as her love for her wolf blossomed as the Stars.
"I hope this exchange has been helpful to you, my Lady Galadriel, although I don't know what comfort I may offer you," Elendil said, noticing that the Lady's eyes were moist, and she laughed.
"You have helped me more than you imagine, son of Amandil, and I know my secret is in good hands… I thank you for your discretion," Galadriel said.
"It is an honour to aid the wisest and greatest of the Noldor, my Lady; now, if you don't mind, I would like to ask you if you enjoyed reading my book," Elendil asked curiously, and Galadriel was bewildered.
'Book?... Galadriel thought, peering into Elendil's mind, she discovered that the High King had gifted her beloved a book concerning the histories of Númenor, and Jon hadn't thought to share it with her.
'That heedless fool…I shall have to repay him for such cheek,' Galadriel thought wickedly, wondering how best to punish her dearest.
"The book I gave Jon my Lady...didn't he tell you?" Elendil asked naively, and Galadriel's countenance hardened.
"Jon must have forgotten", The Lady of Light replied, thinking about how to punish Jon until she conceived the perfect idea.
'Requesting him to reinforce the walls of Imladris was a mere jape, but this cannot go unanswered, oh, my beloved, I shall reward you for such cheek.' Galadriel thought, a wicked smile coming to her face.
"If I may, my Lady…You have changed…." Elendil said, still escorting her down the stairs, pulling Galadriel out of her thoughts.
"Is that true?" Galadriel asked, feigning ignorance, although she knew perfectly well what Elendil spoke of.
"Yes, since I was a child and learned about the High Elves of the West, it was inevitable that many of the wise spoke of the fair maiden of light, a Lady with incomparable grace and wisdom that belied your youth," said Elendil happily.
"It is an honour that I am held in such high esteem by your people," Galadriel said merrily, pleased by the High King's praise.
"And yet when I met you, you seemed greater than a mere Elf as if one of the Maiar in mortal form..." Elendil said somewhat sadly while Galadriel laughed.
"And now, what do you think of me?" Galadriel asked amusedly.
"That you are more… more human, you joke and jape more than before, foretelling your opinions is easier, and in you shines a radiant light like that of the sun… Now I realise… It is the face of a woman in love…" said Elendil sagely.
"I didn't think my feelings were so obvious... But you're right, Son of Amandil, meeting Jon has allowed me to heal my spirit, a spirit afflicted by pain and loss" Galadriel continued laughing with tears in her eyes, feeling a liberating peace.
"My Lady…I never…I never believed that Jon's influence could change you so greatly…." Elendil said, surprised that Galadriel would speak so boldly. At that moment, he finally understood the profundity of Galadriel's love for Jon; there was too a calmness in her heart to declare her love at last after so long, even if it was to himself who had disapproved of such a union.
"My darling fool seems to have the talent to renew the spirits of the weary and downtrodden just as he did mine, but it seems to me that we should speak of other concerns; now tell me about the book you penned..." Galadriel said, beaming with joy, knowing that she and Jon would have Elendil's support; the Great King smiled and began to tell her of all he had written though she only half listened, pondering how best to punish her love for hiding such knowledge from her.
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After several hours midday gave way to evening, and at last, the camp was finished, a sea of many thousands of tents that stretched all around the base of the Watchtower and just as dinner had begun, the night was filled with the sounding of many horns sweet and thunderous was there sound like the falling of heavy snows upon the mountain, and all knew the Elves of Lindon had come.
At that moment Galadriel had been knitting another tunic for her beloved. Yet, as the horns sounded, she swiftly stashed the garment and dawned a tunic of silvery white, she too clad herself in the raiment's her wolf had gifted her; pleased by her appearance Galadriel made to leave, yet her gaze fell upon the chest that housed the Silmaril her heart told her that the sacred jewel would have a role to play tonight and that its light should shine upon this meeting.
Swiftly leaving the tent, Galadriel made her way to the assemblage of lords; upon seeing her, the stewards ushered her over to where her aunt stood beside Jon; it seemed that Elendil had thought her beloved much be by his side a true honour by all reckoning. As for the others, Loras and Robar stood just behind her beloved while his relations were further back though she could discern their displeasure and being shunted so far from the front.
At last, the Dúnedain saw them out of the westward gloam they rode clad in rich panoplies that shone like silver in moonlight; their swords shone as stars, and their lances were long and keen, and as they drew near, all could hear the fair voices of the Noldorin singing the hymns of war.
There came Glorfindel, and Círdan wielding his axe, but before all came, Gil-galad clad in bright plate with silvered helm in his hand was Aeglos that shone as fallen snow and his shield overlaid with silver and set with a device of white stars, shone from afar like a star in sunlight or moonlight.
Galadriel could feel how happiness welled up in her Wolf's heart when he saw Círdan and Glorfindel once more; the first had been a father to him for many years while the latter was a brother in all but blood.
At that moment, Gil-galad dismounted his horse, as did Glorfindel and Círdan, who followed their king in greeting the Númenóreans.
"Welcome, friends…" Elendil said, raising Narsil in salute, a gesture Gil-galad returned with Aeglos.
"It's been a while, my friend", Gil-galad answered, gladdened to see his oldest friend.
"For you maybe…yet the years weigh heavily upon me," Elendil said amusedly.
"I know, and it's a shame to be reunited during such dark days..." Gil-galad said, looking at Isildur with compassion, no doubt knowing what had happened in Minas Ithil.
"Aye, that is why I summoned you; what Sauron has done must not go unanswered though it is little to do with revenge," Elendil said, and Gil-galad nodded.
"I would not have come if I did not believe in the rightness of this war. Sauron must be cast down as his master was, only then will the peoples of Middle-earth know true peace," Gil-galad replied firmly, and they all nodded.
"There is much to speak, but I am sure that even you and yours are weary from the long journey; we have prepared food and water for those that need it," Elendil said courteously, and Gil-galad smiled.
"Your courtesy is appreciated, my friend, but I believe we should speak of the war before such comforts are afforded, " said Gil-galad, and Elendil laughed heartily.
"I expected nothing less from you, my friend…Come, let us share meat and ale before we speak of such dark business as I suspect we are not the only ones who wish to talk," Elendil said, glancing at Glorfindel, Jon and Círdan,
"Come on, Isildur and Elendur shall accompany us..." Elendil said, leaving the Westerosi to reunite with their first host while Gil-galad came before them to offer his well wishes,
"Suilad," The three said at the same time.
"It is a pleasure to see you again, my dear relatives, Lady Galadriel and Lady Írimë," Gil-galad said happily.
"Hello, dear nephew," said his aunt Írimë laughing melodiously before bowing.
"King Gil-galad." Galadriel greeted him happily.
"I still find it strange that you have decided to live in Osgiliath with your aunt Írimë and the Westerosi, my Lady", said Gil-galad, and she sensed his suspicious, but it seems their king hadn't an inkling that his scheming had worked though not in the way he intended.
'If only he knew that not one bloodline of Peredhil would be sired, but two', Galadriel thought with satisfaction.
"I have found that living with the Atani, teaching and instructing them a way of coping with the decline of the world…." Galadriel said in a singsong voice, and her aunt snorted while Gil-galad stared at her confounded, but the old king merely laughed.
"In that case, I'll beg your pardon as I must speak with Elendil; there is much to do", Said Gil-galad with a slight smile and both bowed, yet their countenance hardened as they saw Shiera and Rhaenys clinging to their wolf, even now the fools had the cheek to turn and sneer at her for stealing Jon from under her nose.
Striding over with purpose, she knew she could not separate them without causing scandal... Although she would like to fill the mind of that insolent woman with nightmares, Galadriel knew that Jon would be furious with her.
Seeing them approach, Círdan and Glorfindel bowed low.
"My Ladies…" They both said at the same time.
"Lord Glorfindel...Lord Círdan," Galadriel said happily ignoring Shiera's haughty smile.
"My heart rejoices to see you again, Lady Galadriel." said the shipbuilder with a slight frown, and she noted that Círdan gleaned her displeasure with Shiera as well as the fact that she was wearing various jewels, and for a moment, she cursed her foolishness as she was never known for such finery yet save in mourning or love and it seems the Shipwright saw further than any.
'Círdan sees further than anyone in Middle-earth, even more than I…His powers of foresight rival Melians' Galadriel acknowledged with some trepidation of Círdan's powers as she made a silent plea to Jon and, to her delight, her wolf gleaned her intentions giving Shiera a look of anger, and the foolish dragon knew she had overstepped in such company.
'Thank you, my Wolf', Galadriel thought.
'No problem, my Star,' Jon thought, amused by the foolishness of it all indeed, Galadriel would've joined him in merriment, yet she remembered that Jon had kept the tome of Elendil from her and his punishment was yet due.
'Just wait, Jon, you'll never keep secrets from me again, my beloved,' Galadriel thought, amused as she listened to Jon, Loras, and Robar converse with Círdan and Glorfindel after a century apart.
"It's been far too long, my noble Lords," Jon said, bowing low to the Elven Lords while his family followed suit.
"Indeed, my dear boys.., but I'm afraid my domains are much duller and quieter since you departed," Círdan said wistfully.
"Don't worry, Master; Jon will sing again tonight!" Loras said unexpectedly, and the others nodded as Jon nodded, happy to indulge his oldest friend in Middle Earth.
"Oh…That would be wonderful," Círdan said happily, no doubt longing for the voice of his best bard.
'And I know what song would be perfect to begin the night' Galadriel thought, happily as she hadn't heard it in many years.
"I hope you haven't neglected your weapons training," Glorfindel said with a smile.
"Not at all, master, and I haven't forgotten that there is a duel due..." Jon said boldly, and all looked at him as if he'd grown a second head.
"My, you have become confident Jon, haughty I would even say," Glorfindel said, who was no longer smiling, but Jon laughed.
"Nay, it is not so, master. I merely desire to test my skill at arms against yours though I have little hope for victory," Jon said, and all were gladdened that arrogance had not claimed the prince.
"In that case, I gladly accept your challenge. Let's see how much you have improved," Glorfindel said with an unnerving smile.
"Thank you, Master, although I think we shall have to wait until these dark days have passed..." Jon said, and his old mentor nodded in agreement.
"I see that you are not only an even more splendid fighter than I remember, but you have also become wise," Glorfindel said proudly.
"Don't shower him with praise, master! His head is too swollen," Loras soughed.
"Yes, one more compliment and his head could crush his body," Robar seconded, and all laughed merrily while Jon reddened in shame.
"Both of you will pay for this", Jon angrily swore.
"Oh, little brother, you know these fools speak only in jealousy," Rhaenys said, laughing heartily.
"Hey!" Loras and Robar shouted at the same time.
"How I have missed these merry fools…." Círdan said wistfully as he watched his former protégés fight like children.
"Aye, I had grown fond of scolding them each morning; now I must endure sycophants and fools," Glorfindel said gloomily.
"Time may pass, but memories shall always endure," said her aunt, who was glowering at Rhaenys, and Galadriel was of the same mind as Írimë, and so she hoped to end the reunion swiftly as able.
"This had been a happy reunion, but I fear we shall have to conclude it. I think the Dúnedain have dinner ready, and then our Kings shall wish to speak of the war." Galadriel said grimly, and they all nodded.
"Your words are full of wisdom, my Lady," said Círdan eyeing her warily as if he suspected something.
'It seems Círdan's gaze is keen indeed to see the truth of my heart,' Galadriel thought nervously; although she wasn't startled by it, soon all would know.
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For the next few hours, all could rest and make merry with the Elves and Men drinking and japing, telling stories of happier days, hoping to forget the dark ones that lay ahead.
After a respectable dinner, Elendil and Gil-galad, in the company of their advisors and kin, adjourned to the great hall of Amon Sûl; gone were the comfortable furnishings, and in their place, a great oaken table and chairs were brought forth as well as wine and maps.
All was made ready, and at last, the council of the Last Alliance began.
"And at last, we can begin our business," Elendil said, seating himself opposite Gil-galad.
"Consolidating such a vast army takes time, but even with that, we are not ready… There is still much to be done before we can march to the Black Gate…." Gil-galad said morosely.
"It's true, though, our hosts are mighty; the march shall be long, and there are such difficulties in provisioning an assemblage such as this, we must too consider the best path to take whether to march through Endenwaith or over the Mountains," said Elendil sagely.
"Is Lord Elrond not with you, your Majesty?" Isildur asked politely.
"Elrond is already aware of our meeting and is preparing Imladris to receive our combined host" Gil-galad answered, and Isildur nodded and returned to his seat.
"What do you think of all this, Jon?" Elendil asked, and the entire chamber fell silent, eyeing her beloved wolf who had said nought, merely gazing at the maps laid before them.
"Long will this war be, and the great host that has been assembled is fairer and more splendid in arms than any that has since been seen in Middle-earth, and none greater has been mustered since the host of the Valar went against Thangorodrim... Yet it would be foolish to march as we do now, for we have nought that make cast down the Black gate nor do we know what Evils may be bred in the pits of Mordor," answered Jon solemnly and Galadriel felt proud of her beloved although she immediately realised that Jon had had a vision of the future thanks to his Foresight.
'My Wolf speaks as a faithful Lord of Elder Days…Although I would like to know what he saw…' Thought Galadriel as she acknowledged that her beloved is now truly worthy of being counted among the Lords of Middle earth.
"What about your dragons?" Ciryon asked angrily.
"Our dragons have never wanted to enter Mordor, surely one of Sauron's dark sorceries, for no matter how hard we have tried, they have never taken us further than the Ephel Dúath. Whenever we think we will fly over Mordor, they turn around as if something repelled them, I have tried to seek my dragons' council, but Vhagar does not answer my queries; they shall not enter that shadowed land," Jon said sadly. It was then Arya stepped forward.
"And why must we wait? Why not march south now and bring the Lord of Mordor to battle? we can win without dragons." Said the naive girl, and at first, none thought to answer her until Isildur spoke.
"I wish it were that simple, Lady Arya... But one may not simply walk into Mordor," Isildur said.
'That would be no new counsel,' said Arya. 'What should we have to fear from mere gates and plains of ash?'
"Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep; the Dark Lord is always on his throne, attentive and vigilant, nothing ever happens in his kingdom without his knowledge. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust; the very air you breathe is a poisonous fume... No, my Lady, your cousin speaks rightly to march upon the Dark Tower with nought but strength in arms would be folly," Isildur said fearfully, and indeed Arya herself went pale as death, filled with a terrible fear of the black lands and their dread lords.
"Even so, there will be no peace until the Enemy is defeated; we must find a way to enter Mordor and challenge Sauron before the very gates of Barad-dûr if necessary", Elendil replied, rising from his chair.
"Then let the following words seal this..." Elendil began, but she raised her hand, demanding silence.
"Lady Galadriel?" asked the High King of the Dúnedain.
"Artanis?" Her Írimë asked curiously, but she did not answer, instead bringing forth the strong box and opened it; at once, the chamber was filled with an eternal radiance, and many Elves wept in joy and sorrow, knowing the source of that light.
"A Silmaril..." Cried one of the Elves in terror; it seemed he knew well the stories of his people and the woe brought about by the gem.
"What is your purpose, my Lady? Why did you reveal your treasure to others?" King Gil-galad asked.
"The following words that are spoken in this chamber will be remembered by the following Ages and will be sealed in the name of the Most High, so they must be illuminated by the sacred light that shone in the Blessed Realm before the sun first rose,' said Galadriel holding the gem high above her head bathing the chamber in the radiance of Valinor.
'So be it, my beloved Galadriel…' Jon said happily, and Galadriel smiled, pleased that her beloved would support her in this.
Elendil then stood forth and drew his sword glittering bright in the Light of the Silmaril. He then spoke in a great voice, "So be it then, may Erú Ilúvatar witness this oath, for it shall be kept until our deaths. Hear now all peoples who bow not to the Shadow in the East, I, Elendil the High King of Arnor and Gondor, King of all the Dúnedain and vow in my own name and on behalf of the Faithful of Númenor that between us and the Noldor of the West there shall be friendship for ever: their enemies shall be our enemies, their need shall be our need, and whatsoever evil, or threat, or assault may come upon them we will aid them to the utmost end of our strength. This vow shall descend to my heirs, all such as may come after me in our new land, and let them keep it in faith unbroken, lest the Shadow fall upon them and they become accursed.
Gil-galad then made his answer, drawing himself to his full height and holding Aeglos aloft "I, King Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor, accept the words of Elendil Son of Amandil and may our friendship endure long after our count of days; in this light and by the name of Erú Ilúvatar, I swear now to throw down the enemy of our people and those who would seek the favour of the Dark Tower remain cursed in the shadows far from the light of Eldamar."
'We shall never see an alliance of such like again', Galadriel thought, placing the Silmaril back in the strong box, leaving the chamber illuminated by the light of the torches though many groused being denied the light of the blessed kingdom for a few moments, all was silent, and then the halls once more erupted into celebration.
"Bring the wine and beer!" The soldiers of the Dúnedain began to shout happily to the amusement of many Eldar.
"We need a bard!" Someone yelled, and soon their eyes fell to Jon, who seemed to have not heard them, yet as he tried to depart, his way was barred.
"Where are you going, Nin Mel?... You have an obligation," said her aunt mockingly
"Lalwen…Please…" Jon tried to plead to everyone's amusement.
"No dear nephew, sing," Daenerys said merrily.
"Please, Jon…" said Sansa, her eyes pleading.
"Sansa…" Jon said sadly, his Wolf ready to go down.
"Sing, you damned fool," Arya chortled happily.
"Come, little brother... You just make a fool of yourself..." Rhaenys said evilly.
Jon desperately looked to his grandmother for aid, yet Rhaella merely smiled and seemed to be waiting for him to begin.
"Here, my White Wolf," Arianne said, presenting him a plain harp, and he saw that all about him were friends and family eager for him to perform.
"Sing, Jon, please I've spent a century without hearing you sing," Círdan requested, and he nodded, knowing that he couldn't deny anything to his former mentor.
'Wait a moment, my love, please…' Galadriel said swiftly.
'What's wrong, my Star?" Jon asked curiously.
'Please, I ask you to start the performance with the song dearest to my heart, one that you composed yourself…Namárië…' Galadriel said mischievously, and to her amusement, her wolf reddened.
'But my Star!' Jon started to say, but she silenced him.
'Please, my Wolf, it has been too long since I have heard such beauty', said Galadriel merrily, and he nodded.
'You know that I can't deny you or the others anything, my Star' Jon said, and she laughed.
'I know, now you should begin as the other may grow impatient.' Galadriel said proudly.
'Yes, I know… Jon grunted and began to play the melody he composed for her half a century ago, the song dearest to her heart… Jon's beautiful voice rang clear as the summer's wind filled the hearts of the Noldor with a fierce love of home; indeed, some swore they heard the wailing of the gulls and the call of the sea.
Though not all were pleased by the song, her aunt and Shiera glowered at her evilly, knowing well the meaning of the song, thinking her responsible.
Something she did not deny, glancing at them definitely; Jon was hers alone, and they shall be content that she shares him.
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Westeros, King's Landing.
"Come on, it's time", her uncle Brynden growled at her and her brother Edmure who only nodded in disgust.
'No matter who sits in that hideous chair, this filthy City continues to reek of shit, sweat and piss,' Catelyn thought, disgusted by the fetid stench of the city that wafted into the open windows of the Red Keep.
The time had finally come; just a few months after Victarion's rebellion was crushed and the North claimed Lordship over the Wildlings, King Aegon VI had dispatched ravens to the North, the Vale and the Riverlands, calling the Lords of Winterfell, The Eyrie and Riverrun to appear before the Iron Throne to swear fealty to preserve the King's Peace.
At first, she didn't know if she should bend the knee to a Targaryen, considering the role her family played in Robert's rebellion, but Catelyn was weary of war and death; she had lost her husband, son, daughters even her own life as well, she no longer cared for the Game only desiring to see Bran safe and her Rickon ruling the North from Winterfell as his father and grandfather did before him... She was not interested in seeing him become King as happened with Robb and even less so if the rumours of Aegon's sorceries were true and so they would kneel.
As expected, some Lords like Umber, Glover Tallhart and Norrey did not wish to see the North subject to the whims of the Crown again, but she would hear none of their grumblings; fortunately, Reed, Karstark, Manderly and Mormont saw sense.
So she and her son Rickon were escorted by her uncle Brynden, Brienne, Greatjon and fifty knights from White Harbor to swear allegiance to the new King. They were also accompanied by her nephew Robin, who was forced to attend despite his ailing health.
With her nephew came Lord Yohn Royce, who acted as his regent, the knight Lyn Corbray accompanied by his old squire Mychel Redfort, Ser Wallace Waynwood and other knights from various Houses of the Vale but also Harrold Hardyng, Robert's heir who went to the Court by decision of his tutor Anya Waynwood so that he could become familiar with the Lords of the Kingdom and finally, Ysilla Royce who was asked to accompany her husband to be though Catelyn could tell the girl wished to be anywhere else.
Last in her company was her brother Edmure who was accompanied by some half a hundred knights, among whom were his friends Lymond Goodbrook, Patrek Mallister, Marq Piper and the youngest son of Lord Vance.
Her brother Edmure was clad in silver plate and mail and a cloak of red and blue, while little Rickon and Robert were dressed in doublets worthy of little Lords with gold and silver brooches.
For the occasion, Catelyn had trimmed her son's hair to take away from the rugged appearance he had had since returning from Skagos; although his bold mood and restless spirit yet remained, it seemed too her nephew had improved under the tutelage of Yohn Royce he was shrewder and whined less, but the poor boy was still sickly.
Though there was little time for contemplation as she and her kin were swiftly ushered into the Great Hall by a throng of Gold Cloaks who seemed wholly unable to deal with the number of Lords gathered.
Many years had passed since Catelyn had entered the Great Hall, not since the days of the Greyjoy rebellion, and if her memory served rightly, in those years, the hall was adorned with hunting tapestries, but it seems the young dragon had little care for hunting, gone were the tapestries and animals pelts replaced with the skulls of the great beast that made the Targaryens rightly feared.
She could distinguish many of the nobles in attendance, chiefly made up of Stormlanders and the Dornish though this was to be expected as they had won Aegon his throne. But, to her amazement, there were a few Westermen among the gathered lords; Catelyn had assumed that no Westermen would remain at court save the Imp after the disastrous reign of his sister.
To Catelyn's further wonderment, the Halls were lined with Sigils of the Great Houses, the Stark Direwolf, the Tully Trout, the Baratheon Stag, the Tyrell Golden Rose, the Martell Sun and Spear, the Lannister Lion, the Falcon of the Arryn and rather than the Kraken of Greyjoy, there hung the hammer of Ironmaker.
As for Asha, well…That girl owes a debt to the North, one she knows she must pay, or Catelyn will return her to her Lord Husband.
It was then she saw him at the far end of the hall seated upon the Iron throne was the King of Westeros; he seemed a typical Targaryen, young, vigorous, robust, and handsome clad in a suit of fine plate and upon his brow was a circlet of blackened steel set with square cut rubies.
A crown that she remembers from her lessons... The crown of Aegon the Conqueror, the same one that had been lost in Dorne after the death of the young Dragon.
'He certainly looks like a true Targaryen…' Catelyn admitted, and about the King were the Knights of the Kingsguard thought the seven swords only numbered three at the moment and none she knew save Barristan the old who no doubt led them.
There were also the members of his Council, a man she recognised as Jon Connington, the Lord of Griffin's Roost; pinned upon the breast of his silken doublet was a brooch of silver denoting him as the King's Hand.
Next was the Grand Maester, who Catelyn had never seen before. He was bull-necked and strong-jawed, short and squat with enormous hands, a broad chest and his belly hard, no doubt from drinking ale. His hair was stark white and grew out of his nose and ears; Catelyn could see his nose had been broken more than once; there too was Lord Yronwood and two Stormlanders, but when she saw who stood beside Connington, her face went pale.
Tyrion Lannister, the Master of Laws, a forced ally but the only ally in the Court at the time.
As they approached the throne, there was barred by Connington, and the dishevelled Grand Maester took a swig from a hip flask before addressing them gruffly. "You stand in the presence of Aegon of House Targaryen, the Sixth with the Name, the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Kingdom," and the young King rose from his throne and strolled forward to greet them.
"Welcome..." King Aegon said in a kindly tone, yet his eyes betrayed the contempt he held towards Edmure and Brienne. Indeed, she desired to slap the boy but knew it best to smile and return the false courtesies.
"It is an honour, Your Majesty", Catelyn said, kneeling as did the Lords and knights who accompanied them, although many have done so reluctantly.
"You have been summoned here to pledge fealty to King Aegon, and in exchange for preserving the King's peace, you will all be forgiven for the role their Houses played in the Rebellion," Connington said, and Greatjon seemed to want to seize him for the Lord Last Hearth had noticed the mocking manners of the Hand.
"What did we do?... The Mad King burned our Lord alive and hanged his heir, without trial..." Greatjon said furiously, standing in front of Rickon.
"It's true, my grandfather was an evil man who died as he deserved after all the death and chaos he brought to the Kingdom, and for that, I ask your forgiveness in the name of the Crown", The King acknowledged, bowing slightly, his words sounded sincere, but Catelyn could still feel the mockery and smugness flowing from him like a stream.
'How long has he been rehearsing? He behaves as if he has nothing to fear from our Houses, are the rumours about him true? Does he possess some form of magic? He doesn't look like a sorcerer…' Catelyn wondered worriedly, this boy was far too arrogant for his own good, but there was little they could do.
"The past is the past; it's better to leave it that way..." Yohn Royce said in a conciliatory tone.
"Indeed, we are here to keep the King's peace, not risk war," The Imp seconded.
"In that case, let's get this over with," Edmure said vexedly.
"It's true; we've suffered for the machinations of fools but let us put an end to such cruelties", Catelyn acknowledged taking her son from her shoulders and whispering in his ears.
"It's true, my Lady..." King Aegon said rudely, looking at her scars, something that embarrassed her greatly, a reminder of the betrayals she had suffered and all she had lost, but this was not the time to cower, so she mastered herself and turned to Rickon
"Do it like we practised..." Catelyn said, forgetting her contempt for her new King and Rickon bowed low.
"I, Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell, swear fealty to King Aegon VI of House Targaryen."
Edmure was the last, but he had swiftly soured on this new King for speaking to his sister as a beggar.
"I, Edmure Tully, Lord of Riverrun, swear fealty to King Aegon VI of House Targaryen," his brother said, barely containing his hatred.
Cheering filled the Great Hall, and Catelyn felt a bitter taste in her mouth as she remembered Robb and his struggle to free the North from the Crown, she felt that she had failed him, but they had no choice.
"Splendid…My Lords, my Lady…Come, we have prepared a proper reception and rooms suitable for your station…I also have a gift for you and your men Lady Catelyn may regard as an offer of peace," said Aegon with satisfaction.
"Thank you, Majesty," Catelyn said, forcing a smile although she was intrigued by the gift.
She hadn't liked this new King at all; he was undoubtedly arrogant and contemptuous, akin to Theon Greyjoy, and it seems he still held them in contempt for the Rebellion.
But he or one of his Councillors had sent the Houses responsible for the Red Wedding to the Wall and sent Walder Frey to Winterfell to face judgement... So at least, he seems to weigh the Kingdom's needs against his individual interests.
For now…
'What will that gift be?' She thought.
Notes:
Thanks to great_red