No Road Home

Part the Twelfth

When they stepped out onto the terrace, Windwalker shrank back in awe: Not only did the White Council stand there, but many thousand Elves stood or sat on the lawn and in the trees, even moving up onto the rocks and bluffs leading to the Calacirya, obviously awaiting the announced assembly. It suddenly struck her that Elrond's terrace had been specially constructed and situated so as to be a natural amphitheatre, and she trembled as once again his importance came home to her.

Eager to present her, Elrond started to draw her forward, but Gandalf, seeing her sudden stage fright, waved him off.

"Stay back here with the Ringbearers then, beloved," Elrond whispered, understanding. "I will come for you when you are needed."

She nodded, and remained in the corner with the Fellowship, as Elrond and Gandalf joined Celeborn, Galadriel, and Cirdan, who stood at the front of the Council.

Gandalf stepped forward. "The White Council has a matter to present to the Golodhrim," he announced. "It has come to our attention that a recent visitor to Valinor is no ordinary being. Unole Aisvi, the Windwalker, is descended of the Dunadain and the Eldar of the Grey Havens. There can be no doubt. She is the daughter of the Kings of Men and of Elves. This is how she came to set foot on our shores."

A murmur ran through the assembled elves.

"To her was given the Choice," Galadriel moved to Gandalf's side, "in the presence of the White Council, verily by Eru Himself, at the very moment of her passing from the circle of this world."

The assembly fell silent, stunned.

"Behold the result," Gandalf boomed.

Elrond swiftly retrieved Windwalker, and shyly she moved forth at his side. Awed sounds ran through the Golodhrim as they saw her.

"I say to you," Elrond called in a voice that rang out, "Elo Gwaepadir! Behold the Windwalker!"

Nervously Wind dropped to one knee, bowing low, as Elrond held her hand comfortingly. An approving murmur ran through the assemblage.

"And lo!" Galadriel proclaimed, "this very night past, Lord Elrond bore her hence, to the White Pavilion. They are wed." The murmuring shifted slightly, becoming less approving. Galadriel and Celeborn glanced at each other.

Windwalker stood, holding tightly to Elrond's hand, and smiling up at him. His eyes shone with an Elven light. "Kneel before me, beloved," he told her. Puzzled, she did so, as Frodo and Bilbo bore a velvet cushion to Elrond.

Elrond raised the intricately filigreed brow band, mate to his own, from the Ringbearers' cushion, and held it over Windwalker's head. "Here is the Lady Gwaepadir, my consort, my wife, member of the White Council, and an Elven-queen."

The crowd's murmurs turned to open dismay and disapproval. Windwalker's eyes met Elrond's and they both stopped, the crown just inches short of her brow. Elrond looked out to his people.

"You would not accept my chosen?" he asked softly, disappointment visible in his countenance.

Concerned glances went swiftly around the Council. Each member began quickly focusing on individuals in the assembly who were well known to them. Within seconds, those individuals' eyes widened. Whispers spread rapidly from them, moving through the crowd like waves upon the Sea, as important knowledge was spread.

"Indeed, it explains much --"

"Poor elleth. No wonder their sons became such effective yrch hunters..."

"He has been alone for millenia, faithful to her --"

"Look, Mitihrandir and Melian are approving it."

"So they are. Hm. If he has her permission, and Galadriel and Celeborn accept it, well.."

Many in the gathering began to nod knowingly, as understanding came at last. Still, however, a certain disapproval remained in the murmurings. Elrond and Windwalker gazed into each other's eyes, knowing the very personal news that was being spread like wildfire through the crowd; knowing too, the source of the final resistance.

At last Windwalker gave answer to the last reservation, as she rose. "Lord Elrond," she said clearly, and her tenderness, even in formality, could be heard by all, "they know that, though my appearance is different, I'm still the same person. They don't want a street urchin as your Queen. And they're right. I don't have the wisdom to help me deal with the things you handle daily."

A tiny elfling, still only toddling, found his way onto the stone flags of the terrace as Wind spoke, and made his fascinated way to the elf-woman in the turquoise robes. Windwalker felt a tug on her hem, and looked down to see the youngster. "Ah!" she exclaimed in delighted amusement, breaking off her words to a disappointed Elrond. "Tolo, hen!" She scooped the child up, resting him on her hip with a smile and a gentle touch. The little one put a hand to her face, and she kissed it tenderly, then turned back to her mate. (come, child)

"Elrond," she said softly, her voice carrying to the far corners of the crowd, "I'm happy just being with you. I don't need any fancy titles or important positions. I don't even have to be your 'wife.' Let me be your consort. Just love me for me. That's all I ever wanted in my life."

Elrond embraced her, ignoring the onlookers, pulling her head to his shoulder as the equally-smitten elf-child kissed her cheek. Gandalf smiled gently, pleased.

"You have done well, Windwalker. Again, you have chosen Love," he touched Elrond's shoulder, "and Love again." He indicated the child, then turned to the Golodhrim. "And is not that true Wisdom? Could any take better care of her people, whether Edain or Eldar? Should not she, with so great love, be Elrond's full wife, and work together with him for the Golodhrim?"

From somewhere in the assemblage, an Elven voice was raised in song. Gradually other voices took it up.

Elrond-h-Gwaepadir
Min Valinor goar.
Thenidad-en-Golodhrim,
Eglen Rel-en-Aranim,
Ah! Mellyn-en-Maiar
A en Nuryn Leben
Min beleg glas dorthar.

"What are they singing?" Gimli whispered to friend Legolas.

"After all this time, you still do not understand Sindarin?" Legolas murmured, amused. "Yet you are still here."

"I can grasp part of it," Gimli grumbled, "but those damned verb conjugations cause me to stumble each time."

"It is a song for the two of them," Legolas explained. "It says, 'Elrond and Windwalker in Valinor together. Ruler of Elves, exiled Daughter of Kings, Oh Friends of Maiar and the Five Races, in great joy they dwell.'"

"You are accepted, bereth nin," Elrond whispered to Windwalker. "I promised you, your name would never be forgotten." He settled the fillet over her brow. The song grew louder as more and more voices took it up. (my queen)

"Time for a celebration!" Gimli boomed enthusiastically, and both the Fellowship and the Council laughed.

"It is, indeed," Gandalf agreed heartily. "Let us have some fireworks!" He pointed his staff into the clear blue sky and shouted, "Naur-an-glas!" To Windwalker's joy, bright scarlet blossoms exploded in the sky, and the elfling in her arms screamed in delight. (fire for joy)

Moments later, its embarrassed mother approached, bowing low before Windwalker. Wind lifted the Elf woman with her free hand, smiling, and gave over the child.

Elrond smiled as he felt Wind press lightly against his side. His household servants spread out among the many hundreds of assembled guests, bearing trays of food and drink. Elrond embraced his wife, and they took their seats with the Council, as Maltheneldor served them.


The revelry went on late into the night, but at a reasonable hour Elrond and Windwalker retired for the evening. They lay curled together in bed, the stars of Valinor shining brightly through the skylight overhead, Elven-song floating on the breeze. Elrond drew his wife close, stroking her iridescent bare skin and idly watching it sparkle.

"Are you comfortable, my love?"

Windwalker snuggled deep into the downy mattress and comforters. "Decadently comfortable, Elrond."

He chuckled his amusement. "Are you hungry?"

"No. Just happy."

"Osda," he grinned, eyes twinkling. (good)

"Vv," she agreed. (yes)

They cuddled contentedly, caressing each other languidly.

"Elrond?"

"Yes?"

"How big is Valinor?"

"Quite large. It is a continent."

"Hm."

"What?" he asked, seeing her thoughtful expression.

"Oh, it's just funny," she told him.

"What is?"

"Now that I don't have to travel anymore?"

"Mm?"

She laughed. "I want to explore."

Elrond's laughter rang out. "And I would hazard a guess with which group."

Windwalker's eyebrows rose mischievously, those lovely arched eyebrows, Elrond thought. "Go on," she urged him. "Which?"

"I will gather the Fellowship tomorrow," he promised, "and we will plan a trip with them. But for now," he leaned over her, "I want you all to myself."

"Really?" Wind taunted him affectionately, and they watched one of Mithrandir's fireworks light up the sky over their bed.

'Really,' came Elrond's thought, as he covered his wife and they joined.

'Why are you concerned, my Elf Lord?' he heard in his mind. 'We have all the time in the World.'