Chapitre 1574: 59
Chapter 59: The Lady of light and a journey East
Summary:
Jons time in the Mansions of the Longbeards are at an end, now he must venture east to the lands of Dorwinion and secure their loyalties for the wars to come and so to must he utterly ensnare the heart of Galadriel.
Notes:
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(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Half a century had passed since Jon Snow, also known now as Baelon Targaryen, chose to dwell among the mighty Dwarves of Khazad-dûm, and he had learnt much from the children of Aulë, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby and sapphire.
After his decades spent in Durin's Halls, Jon was confident he was as great a smith as any man of Númenor; the Dwarves were harsh masters that did not suffer fools nor those too weak to learn their craft and Jon revealed in their teachings fashioning many beautiful things from metal and stone.
Loras and Robar had stayed by his side for some time before the love of Arnor called them home, and so was Jon alone in Khazad-Dûm, although sometimes Loras and Robar venture to the Dwarven kingdom and join their brother in tests of strength and arms.
At the beginning of his apprenticeship, he was joined by his lady loves and family, who were eager to gaze upon the halls of Durin and those who had not ventured there before marvelled at the vast Mansion of the Longbeard's, especially the fabled forges of the dwarves. Shiera and Sansa had begged him to procure them some jewellery in Shiera's case, Jon gifted her a necklace wrought of silvered steel and set with half a hundred sapphires and twice as many emeralds, and for his dear Sansa a tiara of silver set with seven sapphires the size of hen's eggs.
Jon had taken his loves and cousins to gaze upon the West Gate of the Kingdom. All were enraptured by its beauty of the Ithilden so much so that Shiera and Rhaella wept, Sansa and Arya could scarcely believe such beauty was wrought by mortal hands and asked Jon if he could perhaps forge a gate of such beauty alas, he was averse to tell them the secret of its creation was only known to Celebrimbor and King Narvi who had perished in the Wars against Sauron.
Arya and Rhaenys, for their part, only coveted things from the armoury, but Jon was adamant Arya claim no weapons except by leave of Glorfindel.
That deeply irritated Arya, but there was little she could do save challenge Jon to a duel, and while the young wolf had become a splendid swordswoman, Jon was far more skilful trouncing her each time.
Those constant defeats and the desire to impress her love only motivated Arya to practice with Glorfindel until her shoulder and arm were bruised a dark purple from the sparring. She wanted to teach her cousin a lesson not to disparage her just for being a woman and that she was no meek little girl; sadly, for Arya, her beloved cousin hadn't shirked from his training either.
The young Targaryen knew that the Dwarves had ever placed great value on skill at arms, particularly the wielding of hammers and axes, so when he wasn't at the forge, Jon sparred with the Everguard of King Durin he had no intention of being outmatched by his brothers in arms he couldn't bear their boasting if he had.
Alas, all good things must end, and soon his lady loves, and family desired to return to Annúminas, so with bitter tears, they bayed Jon farewell though not before his loves shared a night of passion with him.
It was a beautiful memory he wouldn't soon forget, but alas, a Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.
Although it had been many years, Jon had kept abreast of the news in Arnor, and it seemed Arya had become a splendid warrior though he doubted she could best him.
At first, the young Targaryen was grieved though his loves had cautioned him that life in the mines was no life for them for many years. Jon thought to return to Arnor, but he knew in his heart that this would be a grave insult to King Durin and so busied himself with the lore of mining and smithing, hoping to comfort his aching heart.
Though it wasn't so grim on many occasions, he was visited by Glorfindel and Lord Elrond, who were rather amused that he had lived among the dwarves so long as they weren't known for their table manners nor their cleanliness.
"It is a matter of will and perseverance; the knowledge that the Dwarves are granting me is valuable enough for me to withstand their brutal lessons even if it is a tortuous hurdle," Jon had told them with some melancholy.
Jon, for his part, had fulfilled the promise to his loves and cousins before leaving; he visited them often in Annúminas, where he was always welcomed by them with love and affection many a time, he had left them sated and happy it seems his lady loves were all too eager to welcome a dragon into their beds.
Finally, after some three decades in the forges, the dwarves began to instruct him in the fashioning of stonework's and the construction of fortresses.
The study of architecture that Jon had learned from the Númenóreans was certainly beneficial since these the Dwarves hadn't considered him a naive boy though to his regret, Jon knew his skill would never equal the Children of Aule in the fashioning of stone this did not discourage the young dragon, and soon he was deemed as a fair mansion, and when a Dwarf deems a man adequate, many know he shall be legendary.
King Durin was sure that Jon would construct great Citadels and cities in his homeland; the young dragon merely needed to refine his craft, but now the time had come for him to reward Jon's effort and return to the forges of the moon.
For his part, the blessing of long life was undoubtedly a great help in the pursuit of knowledge; Jon had not aged at all in the last fifty years, no doubt, because his life span was akin to the early Númenóreans many in the Northern Kingdom whispered that Jon and his companions were in all things more like to the Firstborn than any other of the kindreds of Men.
Though not all was peaceful, the Goblins had grown far bolder, and many a time, Jon would accompany the Dwarves into the Dimrill Dale to cleanse the gate and lands beyond; after some years, Jon constructed several watchtowers on the shores of the Celebrant and borders of the Golden wood though these towers were not some splendid edifices of marble rather rough-hewn pillars of blackened stone these served the Dwarves well. Soon even the most wearied Longbeard had admitted to the skill in their construction.
King Durin had told him that he will never be equal to his teachers in the art of stonecraft, but this merely enflamed Jon's passion he wished to prove his old friend wrong, and so he studied with such vigour many among the Longbeards thought the young Targaryen must be kin to their race in some manner or fashion.
Though not all was well in the years since his resurrection, he had become far wilder; it seemed he was more akin to the ancient northern berserkers than any knight of Westernesse.
Jon knew that since he returned from the Rooms of Command, he was changed and not just by the grace of Erú, he was far mightier than any mortal man, and none among the Noldor could best him save Glorfindel, Elrond and noble Gil-Galad.
On one of the occasions, he was working in the forges, and ill fortune befell a young smith on the gangway above an elderly dwarf had dropped his axe. The deadly blade would have come crashing down on the boy had Jon not pushed him away alas the axe bite deeply into Jon's arms, and the queerest thing happened liquid light drizzled from the wound at his arm, spattering his shirt with bright spots of gold and forming small puddles in the stone by his feet. Nevertheless, his arm hardly hurt at all, even when he pulled out the glittering axe, and as soon as the blade was gone, the wound visibly began to heal, much to the astonishment of the dwarves.
Though it was in the battles against the goblins that his blessing where indeed revealed, King Durin led his throng into the valley from the East while Jon circled so that his forces could attack from the borders of Lórien in the south. Jon and Durin cut a bloody swathe through the horde and met in the middle of the dale, where they leaned on their weapons and shared a mug of stout ale and good cheer before renewing the slaughter. However, King Durin and Jon would have vengeance as so they led their companions after the fleeing foe, plunging into the inky depths of the Goblin warrens on and down they marched, deeper than the deepest of dwarves tunnels, their only radiance the flame of Ringil and Jon's blazing eyes. They slew many a Troll and dark creatures that arose to greet them, delving ever downward into the dark heart of the mountain where man was not meant to tread. Within those dank and foetid halls, the Goblin kings were cut down from their thrones and skewered upon Jon's lance like hogs. For three days, Jon and Durin fought a path back to the light, neither ceasing to even rest drenched in the blackened blood of their enemies.
Jon also gained a great vigour of the body; it seems as if the dawn of spring lay in his heart, and none could overcome him save the stoutest of the Dwarves warriors whose own strength was akin to the mountains they called home.
With his newfound vigour, he could entertain his lady loves each time he attended them in Annúminas without wearying, leaving them wholly sated and all the more smitten with their darling dragon who made them feel as if they had crossed into Valinor.
And it seemed Jon bore the blessed hands of a healer and saved many a dwarven and elvish life during his time in Khazad-Dûm, growing especially wise in the making of poultices and herbs during those many years he would on occasion ask Lord Elrond for instruction, and the wizened elf was all too happy to aid him in his pursuit of knowledge.
The Dwarves treated him with great reverence, and many among the King's council whispered that he was perhaps immortal; though Jon knew this was false, the will of Eru men shall abide in this world but a little while and then whither as all fair things must.
No, Jon was utterly certain that he was not immortal.
That was more worrying, Jon relished his new might, but he also felt his mind change slowly; his mind and spirit wavered between man and beast, his mood was ever dour, and his ferocity in battle rather queer.
However, none of that worried Jon; what worried him was that he did not want to be considered a wild wolf akin to his Uncle Brandon and mother, but Jon could do little save mastery of his savagery and place faith in the wisdom of the elves.
After all, he was not an animal.
The thought of that phrase reminded him of Lord Elrond and the Valley of Imladris, a refuge for the weary and the oppressed, and a treasury of good counsel and wise lore settled at the edge of a narrow gorge of the Bruinen River, but well hidden in the moorlands and foothills of the Misty Mountains.
During the War of the Elves and Sauron, and as Sauron was moving against Eriador, Elrond led an army of Elves of Lindon to the region. They arrived late but were joined by a detachment out of Eregion led by Celeborn. Despite this, Sauron's armies overwhelmed the Elves, and Elrond was unable to reach Eregion. Forced northward toward the headwaters of Bruinen, Elrond established a stronghold. This became a refuge for those seeking shelter from Sauron's onslaught in Eriador, and Elrond's and Celeborn's Elves were soon joined by many fleeing the Sack of Eregion. More came as Sauron ravaged Eriador on his march toward Lindon. By the year 1700 of this age, Sauron had overrun all of Eriador, and Imladris was besieged. The siege ended when Gil-galad's forces, strengthened by the armament sent by Tar-Minastir, routed Sauron's armies and drove him out of Eriador.
Since then, Lord Elrond has ruled there with his wife the Lady Celebrian, and for the past fifty years, his beloved Lawlen and Galadriel had dwelt there in peace and comfort as Galadriel had no wish to return to Edhellond as the memories of Celeborn were far too painful, and Celebrian wouldn't be parted from her mother.
The first time Jon and the others visited the Imladris Valley some six months after they went to dwell in Khazad-Dûm, it was beautiful; the air was warm. The sound of running and falling water was loud, and the evening was filled with a faint scent of trees and flowers as if summer still lingered in Elrond's gardens.
Jon's intention was to visit his beloved elves, but he had been amazed by the beauty of the realm that the elves had built there; Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian received them with kindness, as Jon and his cousins were kin to them however distantly though some elves eyed Jon with curiosity others with contempt not doubt hearing tales of his bestial rages. Still, none dared say anything, and they were welcomed as family.
Unfortunately, not everything was well; there was a moment upon his arrival when the Lady Celebrian gazed at him intensely, and then her eyes showed something akin to suspicion and mistrust; however, it was supplanted with warmth, and she embraced him as if he were her own son.
That worried Jon; he was sure that Lady Galadriel had not told her daughter anything concerning their romance, but Jon had already heard that Celebrian was as farsighted and wise as her mother, and they could never hide their intentions from her.
Her father's death was very recent, at least for the way elves measure time; if the Lady Celebrian found out that her mother and Jon desired each other, she might behave just as Fëanor did when his father took a second wife Jon prayed to the Valar she would accept their love.
Fortunately, that did not seem to be the case; Lord Elrond's wife treated him with the same kindness, gentleness and respect as always, which for Jon was a momentary respite until the day Celebrian discovered the truth.
However, for Jon to visit that place was to visit his beloved Lalwen and Galadriel although the Lady of Light kept far from him with a look of longing upon her face Irime however, held no such reservations and would not be parted from Jon for as long as he dwelled in the valley.
Alas, not all was fair and good when they visited the house of Elrond the majesty of this place fulled a great longing for blessed Arnor in the heart of his companions, and Jon could not begrudge them that, and it was here that his companions decided to return to Annúminas.
Despite this, Jon visited the Valley frequently in the coming years to admire the beauty of Noldorian woodcraft; the Elves had constructed this place in such a way that it appeared as if the houses had merely sprung from the ground resplendent with flowers and beautiful ponds.
His time in Imladris had lit a fire in his heart, and Jon was adamant he would build a place as fair as Rivendell one day, though he didn't come to merely admire Noldorian skill.
Firstly was the wise counsel of Elrond, who had tried to rid Jon of his savagery though the Lore of the Elves offered succinct aide, and it appeared he would remain as he was for the rest of his day though it was not all grim tidings as Jon took great pleasure striding through the forest under the light of the Full Moon.
And to see his beloved Lalwen and Lady Galadriel, to gaze upon them always filled his heart with joy as if the sun had cast away the winter of his heart and given way to a fair and beautiful spring.
His sweet Lalwen always had a radiant expression like the sun when he came to Rivendell, and Jon was more than delighted to be with his beloved elf, and soon the entire valley knew that the daughter of Finwë and Indis was the consort of a mortal man.
Many had congratulated him for his good fortune though he had heard some of their whispered conversations reminding him of the path he now trod though being with his lady loves did much to draw his mind elsewhere.
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The Noldorian Princess, for her part, had greatly enjoyed spending time with her beloved dragon, just by themselves, venturing around the Valley and teaching him first-hand the traditions of her people, and in turn, Jon demonstrated in the smithies of Imladris what he had learned from Khazad-Dûm, for Írimë these were moments of great pride as her beloved dragon showed his mastery of the forge.
In Írimë's opinion, her Nin Mel had learned and matured much in his time with the Dwarves, becoming a powerful man in mind, spirit and body.
Oh, how Írimë loved to see her dragon work either building ships or minding the forge, all that labour in the forges of Khazad-Dûm had blessed Jon with a robust build, a blushing Írimë often watched him from afar the way he moved with the grace of a panther.
Oh, she a Princess of the Noldor fervently wishes to take a mortal as husband and lover she felt that desire consume her slowly but inexorably, Írimë knew that she and yet to share her beloved bed and she felt her resolve weaken soon she would ride the dragon.
She had already waited long enough.
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Jon, for his part, despite loving time with his sweet Lalwen, had another person in his thoughts in addition to her when he visited Imladris the Lady Galadriel.
All the time that had passed since Jon went to live in Khazad-dûm had caused his relations with the two maidens to change considerably. However, he remembered when his beloved took him aside one to settle the matter between them once and for all Lalwen was forthright with him; she had accepted that her lover and her niece Artanis had feelings for each other though she was not happy in the least, He could be with Galadriel if he so desired, but they must be secretive lest they draw the ire of the Noldorian nobility.
A flushed and nervous Jon did not say anything for a while and just started to stutter, but Lawlen merely struck him in the chest, not wishing to repeat herself; it was rather embarrassing.
But Jon told him that there could be nothing between him and Galadriel in a formal way because she would remain married to Lord Celeborn eternally as ordained by laws of the Noldor, but to Jon's confusion, Lalwen expression was one of anguish.
"You must speak to Artanis about that Nin Mel; it is a harrowing and private matter for her; only Artanis has the right to discuss it." Irime had told him.
Jon nodded at Lalwen's words and fiercely kissed her much to the joy of his beloved though Lady Galadriel had no knowledge of what they had discussed as she still mourned Lord Celeborn and neither wanted to burden her, although Jon had already promised the Lady of Light that he would claim her as his own one day young Targaryen knew that day was not yet, his heart told him it was fast approaching.
The love that Jon felt for Lalwen and Galadriel was the queerest he felt among his loves he did not desire them more than the rest, if that were the case, Jon would have chosen to become half-elven but rather due to the kinship between them and the customs of elves regarding marriage.
And such is the love and longing that the young Targaryen felt for both descendants of Finwë that he had begun to shape sculptures of gold in their likeness though he had destroyed several already deeming them unworthy of such beauties.
The beauty of both elves was something mystical and unattainable for any of mortal blood. Jon loved them all fiercely though he rarely saw his beloved Lawlen, much less Galadriel, so he desired them all the more.
Still, he recalled his last visit to Imladris when he and Galadriel plighted their troth.
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FLASHBACK
They were walking through the meadows, under the trees just as the moon was creeping over the oaks, Jon regaled with tales of his suffering at the hand of his Dwarven master, and this brought Galadriel some joy so much, so she even laughed heartily.
Hearing her laugh amid her grief was a great delight because the sound of her laughter was like the kiss of a summers breeze, and it filled him with great warmth; it made his heart soar to know he had brought her some small joy amid her grief.
However, Jon felt that the Lady was hiding something from him, something important even though he knew that she was pleased when he visited Rivendell, and during those fifty years, he had come to know her quite well.
Finarfin's daughter was a firm person loving and warm, free-spirited and adventurous as well as fair and humble, as well as eminently wise as even Lord Elrond who was enormously wise in his own right held her in the highest esteem, yet in Lady, Galadriel burned the flame eternal she was proud and warlike akin to a warrior goddess from some ancient saga.
In a rare moment of affection, Lady Galadriel had told him that she had been willful and rebellious in her youth, how she preferred wearing plate and mail and often carried a sword eschewing the frivolities of court and was such a nuisance her mother had told her she would send her father to the grave with worry.
The Lady of Light arched an eyebrow when reading Jon's thought, and he smiled, and so she laid a chaste kiss upon his brow, much to Jon's shock.
Galadriel made hints that she wanted to continue their stroll, and Jon followed her hoping to know more about her, at first she was relucent to tell him of her life in the blessed kingdom, and though Jon had heard the stories second hand, he felt that to hear it from Galadriel herself would be a high honour.
She was born and raised as the youngest daughter of Finarfin, the youngest son of Finwë, the High King of the Noldor and Eärwen "The Swan Maiden of Alqualondë" and though her life was one of peace and plenty. However, the words of Fëanor kindled in her heart the desire to see the lands East of Valinor and to claim a realm of her own. So she accompanied the great smith on his journey during the troubles that followed, even though she participated in the revolt of the Noldor, she fought against Fëanor in defence of her mother's kin in the Kinslaying of Alqualondë. However, the great friendship they felt for the children of Fingolfin prevented them from abandoning them since they wanted to follow their father Fingolfin and, according to the Lady herself, their Youthful pride prevented them from returning to Valinor as defeated, thereby ensuring that she too fell under the Curse of Mandos. Galadriel recounted a great deal of her life in those hours; soon, dusk gave way to night and soon, the valley was blanketed in glittering stars.
"They are beautiful, aren't they?" The Lady asked suddenly.
"Yes, My Lady though I haven't gazed much as the stars of Westeros, they are not as fair nor as bright as the gems above us," Jon said with a sigh.
"That is a pity, the starlight is a gift from Varda to all the Children of Ilúvatar to ward off the darkness it is a pity they cannot admire the majesty of the heavens as we do," Galadriel said, glancing again to Jon with a smile.
"Then Varda looked out from the height of Taniquetil and beheld the darkness of Middle-earth beneath the innumerable stars, faint and far. Then she began great labour, greatest of all the works of the Valar since their coming into Arda. First, she took the silver dews from the vats of Telperion, and therewith she made new stars and brighter against the coming of the Firstborn; wherefore she whose name out of the deeps of time and the labours of Eä was Tintallë, the Kindler, was called after by the Elves Elentári, Queen of the Stars. Carnil and Luinil, Nénar and Lumbar, Alcarinquë and Elemmírë she wrought in that time, and many other of the ancient stars she gathered together and set as signs in the heavens of Arda: Wilwarin, Telumendil, Soronúmë, and Anarríma; and Menelmacar with his shining belt, that forebodes the Last Battle that shall be at the end of days. And high in the north as a challenge to Melkor, she set the crown of seven mighty stars to swing, Valacirca, the Sickle of the Valar and sign of doom.
It is told that even as Varda ended her labours, and they were long when first Menelmacar strode up the sky, and the blue fire of Helluin flickered in the mists above the borders of the world, in that hour the Children of the Earth awoke, the Firstborn of Ilúvatar. By the starlit mere of Cuiviénen, Water of Awakening, they rose from the sleep of Ilúvatar; and while they dwelt yet silent by Cuiviénen, their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven. Therefore they have ever loved the starlight and have revered Varda Elentári above all the Valar." Jon thought, recalling his lessons with Cirdan.
"You speak truly, my Lady," said Jon enjoying the view.
"Jon…" Lady Galadriel said now, watching him intensely.
"Yes?" The young Targaryen asked curiously.
"I can feel the restlessness of your spirit, you come to Imladris to see my aunt Írimë and me, but you can for another reason I suspect why can you not speak of it with us? " The Lady asked in a reproachful tone as Jon got nervous.
"There is no point in lying; she will know," Jon thought, his heart disquiet; it was not helped by Galadriel's piercing gaze.
"What are you hoping to conceal, Jon?" Asked the Lady of Light, increasingly upset with her love of hiding things from her.
Jon just sighed.
"I ... I have not been the same since I returned from the Room's of Command," Jon said in a dark tone that distressed the beautiful elf, who quickly approached her love and took him gently by her cheek.
"Do you speak of your wolfish rage?" Galadriel asked worriedly.
Jon relented and began to tell Galadriel everything that had befallen him in Khazad-Dûm, how he had become akin to a slavering wolf eager to glut itself on the blood of his enemies of the rages that overtook him in battle and his tireless body.
The Lady of Light listened silently, and although her face remained impassive, he discerned the worry in her eyes.
When Jon spoke of the axe nearly severing his arm, Galadriel's countenance was one of worry and sadness.
"Like my beloved Lalwen, Galadriel cannot bear to see me in anguish", Jon thought nervously as he saw the anger in Galadriel's dazzling blue eyes, and it warmed his heart to know he was dear to her.
Though Jon was loathed to share the darkest of his tales, the slaughter of the goblins clans although the Goblins were filthy and hideous creatures, Jon's wroth was no dissimilar to their vices of torture and to think he could be as bestial and cruel as the Goblins filled him with fear and sadness.
That bestial side of his mind terrified and dismayed him; that part of his spirit that was now wild and dangerous Jon feared he would harm those closest to him, and soon his mind was consumed by thoughts of slaughter and bloodshed.
"I am not a beast ... I am not a beast ..." Jon said, dismayed, echoing that phrase several times, his eyes alight with fear.
Seeing her love suffer from such fear, Galadriel embraced him hoping to soothe his aching spirit.
"What consumes his soul now is not the work of the Valar not even they are so cruel as to inflict madness upon men no we were foolish trying to recall Jon before Eru deemed it right, oh what terrible affliction we have set upon my love," The Lady of the Light thought with guilt remembering the part she played in his resurrection.
Jon felt the warmth of his lady love akin to the first kiss of spring and revealed in it soon his mind was at ease and he lay there enraptured by the scent of lilacs and honeysuckle.
"Thank you, my lady," Jon said, calmer now, but at that moment, Galadriel looked at him with sadness.
"Why didn't you say any of this before?" Galadriel asked with concern knowing that the savagery that her love acquired from his wolf had not been appeased.
"Because it was not your burden to bear, my Lady, it was foolish, I know, but my loves have been beset by worry, and I had no wish to cause any of you more anguish, though I have been as I am since Isengard only now has it tried to consume my soul, and so I came here hoping the magics of Lord Elrond could soothe my heart.
"And Elrond has aided you in secret," Galadriel said, her voice biting as cold iron; she would have words with Elrond for keeping this from her.
Sensing Galadriel's anger at Elrond, Jon shook his head.
"Please, my Lady, do not be displeased with Lord Elrond; I swore him to secrecy though he thought I should tell you, but my fear and arrogance prevented silenced me so if any should deserve your ire, it is me, "said Jon expecting Galadriel's anger.
But to his surprise, the Princess of the Noldor only kissed him on the forehead and smiled slightly.
"Very well, Jon, I will not take my anger out on Elrond, but you will have to answer for your folly, my dear fool," Galadriel said with a smile and a warning look.
Jon merely nodded.
"Yes, we shall have no more secrets between us, my lady, this I swear," Jon said with a sad smile.
"What more changes have you noticed in yourself? I feel it in you each time you venture here; you are a little changed each time," Galadriel said, sadly caressing the face of her love, and Jon allowed himself to fall into her embrace once more.
"Yes, I don't just have that new wild and unbridled instinct ... My way of being, my character changes little by little, although I don't know if that's because of my wolf instincts or just my personality," Jon said with a slight laugh.
"What do you speak of?" The beautiful elf asked while Jon just sighed.
"Lord Elrond and King Durin seem to think I have less patience for foolishness, although this is mayhaps from my time among the Dwarves though I do prefer solitude akin to my wolf, "Said Jon remembering how his wolf prefers solitude even among his pack.
"What else?" Galadriel asked with some concern.
"Yes, the older Dwarves are grumbling as my jest as are sharp as a freshly wrought axe, and it seems I have insulted a great many of them," Jon said without giving value to that peculiar shift in his way of being while Galadriel arched an eyebrow and saw in Jon's memories as his lady loves had japed and jested with Jon concerning a particularly aged dwarf setting his bear alight.
"That shall not endear you to the Dwarves," thought the Lady of Light with some amusement.
"Though I have mastered my spirit in part thanks to Elrond's counsel and my teaching in the Grey Havens, I fear one day my savagery shall consume my heart, and I shall be little more than a beast clad in the flesh of a man, "Jon said with pitying hatred.
After perceiving Jon's heart was filled with self-hatred, Galadriel shed tears of regret knowing some blame rested with her.
"Jon, what ails you is no fault of your own but rather our foolishness," Galadriel said with tears in her eyes and fear in her voice as Jon looked at her with confusion.
"Lord Elrond told me of the ritual you intended for me, and I bear no ill hatred towards any of my lady", Jon said, gazing at the Lady of Light whose eyes were wet with tears.
Seeing her in such a state was too much for the young Westerosi and approaching her, he caressed her cheek, losing himself in those blue eyes that at that time shone like the stars of Queen Varda that were above them, now it was Lady Galadriel who allowed herself to be pampered by her love, closing her eyes to enjoy his caresses and after hesitating for a moment, Jon kissed her.
This was akin to their first kiss on the shores of Belfalas all those many years ago, where their hearts were promised to one another even if neither knew what Eru had planned for them a single kiss that had borne a love as great as Beren and Luthien's.
At first, Galadriel was startled by Jon's boldness, but the Lady of Light cared too little to stop it and returned his kiss with equal passion.
Soon their tongues were duelling in a furious passion as if trying to consume each other Jon showed great strength and laid Galadriel upon the soft grass, gazing into her eyes that sparkled with love and lust in equal measure, and the lady of light wrapped her arms around him so they would not be parted.
Unlike those previous kisses, this one was different, he had the overwhelming passion of his first kiss and the tenderness of the second, but he had something else love; Jon and Galadriel kissed with all the love of their heart and the passion they felt for each other when they were together before they were akin to animals consumed by desire now they wee lovers plighting their troth beneath the glittering heavens.
They paid mind to little else save for the happiness; the only thing that lived was them; they could perceive in that kiss all the love they shared, the warmth and softness of their lips, their aroma, the softness of their skin Galadriel was his queen, at that moment, the two were one, the only thing that existed in Arda was the two of them.
At that moment, they finally parted, gazing into each other's eyes as the Lady of Light played with Jon's dark curls while he merely smiled enraptured by her beauty.
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"This is wonderful," Jon said without thinking, and Galadriel just laughed and kissed him on his lips again.
"We've waited a long time for this," Galadriel said, happy to finally openly acknowledge her love for Jon.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" Jon said.
"Yes, I have fought against the truth of my heart for far too long, Jon. I thought our love sinful, but I cannot be denied any longer Celeborn death is a wound that shall take many centuries to heal, but he has freed me from our marriage so that I may not face all the ages of this world alone though I suspect he had no knowledge of the love we shared I shall stand by you Jon Snow from this day until you depart from Arda" Galadriel said with sadness in her voice, still playing with Jon's hair.
"My Lady", Jon began to say, but Galadriel silenced him with another kiss.
"Galadriel, Jon, address me by my name; at this point, it is ridiculous that you call me in such a formal way, my wild wolf," Galadriel said, her face alight with joy.
"A difficult road awaits us, Jon, although now we decide to fight for our love, I fear that this will not be readily endured among my people you desire my aunt as she desires you, and there will be many a Noble Elf who would challenge you for our hand," Galadriel said before resting her head on Jon's chest.
"I know, but for both of us, I would battle the great enemy Lalwen, and you belong to my side", Jon growled fiercely. No one would part him from Lalwen and Galadriel, not so long as there was strength left in his body.
Knowing that her beloved was willing to fight for her and her aunt unto the ending of the world filled her with fierce love and heat to pool in her most sacred place; her wolf was wild as a storm but kind as spring, and she would know he loved her just as she loved him.
"Oh, I'm again acting like a maiden in love waiting for my gallant knight," Galadriel thought with amusement as she realised the effect Jon had on her.
Only he could have reduced the Lady of Light, the daughter of Finarfin, the mightiest and fairest of all the Elves, to behave again as a young maiden in love although she had never acted that way even when he lived in Aman.
Since the noble elf in those distant times did not care much for romance, she preferred knowledge and athletic contests and was so exceptional in them that it filled her with pride to know that many considered her fair and mighty beyond her years and while she loved Celeborn he was not skilled in the arts of romance.
But with Jon, she had no need to hide her thoughts or feelings; it was a wondrous thing to share them with her wild wolf.
"It doesn't matter the trials we face; our destinies are intertwined though I do hope my vision shall come true soon". Galadriel thought as her face turned a pleasant shade of scarlet.
And so both now as lovers fell asleep that night under the stars.
END OF FLASHBACK
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After peacefully remembering his last visit to Imladris and his last meeting with his loved ones Lalwen and Galadriel, Jon's mind was drawn back to his lesson with Rafnuff the old dwarf was instructing him in the properties of various stone though it was apparent to all Jon had little interest in the dwarves lectures.
Jon liked spending time with Rafnuff since the dwarf had been his first master in Khaza-dum, though as the years passed, he was learning far less than he should; he had spent half a century among the Longbeards, and his time was coming to an end.
The Dwarves believed with amusement that when Jon accepted the invitation of King Durin that he would at most last a year, and yet the young Westerosi has been with them for half a century.
Knowing that he was the first man to accomplish such a feat filled Jon with great pride.
With that in mind, Jon took out his pipe, the same one his brothers in arms, gave him so many years ago, and leaning comfortably against one of the walls, began to smoke.
Jon had discovered his taste for smoking thanks to the Dwarves since; apparently, it was his preferred leisure activity; at first, Jon did not know whether to smoke or not since he remembered the contempt that his loved ones had for that habit; however, the curiosity of the young Targaryen was greater than the fear of angering them, and in the end, he decided to try his pipe.
It turns out that Loras and Robar were right about inhaling the smoke from that herb; it was rather enjoyable, so it became a frequent habit for Jon to accompany the dwarves when they wished for a smoke.
So Jon smoked frequently; although the young Targaryen had neither contracted breathing problems nor had his teeth become yellow, Jon thought little of it and simply assumed it was the grace of the Valar.
Something good had to come out of them because of all the fear and bitterness they have caused him in recent years.
At that moment, Jon's heard the heavy footfalls of an approaching dwarf, although Jon was more concerned about finishing his pipe, so he paid it little mind.
"Lord Baelon..." Jon turned his gaze towards the voice and saw it was a young dwarf with a yellow beard tucked into a golden belt, and very bright eyes.
"Yes...?" Jon said before blowing out several large smoke rings that flew towards the great domed ceiling.
"King Durin wishes your presence a message arrived from King Elendil the King says it was urgent," said the young dwarf, somewhat nervous as he stood before Jon of the House of Finwe.
Sighing with impatience, Jon put out his pipe, he did not like to be interrupted by anyone in his few moments of leisure, but loyalty and respect for his King remain absolute, the honour he learned from his uncle Ned Stark was something he still believed in though he was far more pragmatic than his uncle.
Jon sighed.
"Lead me to the King, boy .." Jon said, and the young dwarf merely nodded.
Jon and the young dwarf walked the corridors of Khazad-Dûm as well as up and down the galleries in the dark until they finally reached the great elevator and entered the Great Hall of King Durin, and there sat Lord Durin on his throne heated debating with his advisors in Khuzdul.
The Lord of Khazad-Dûm had not changed much over the years due to the long life of the Dwarves; however, age was beginning to catch up with him as his face already had more wrinkles on his face and his beard was more silvered, although the mighty Dwarf King still retained his strength and vigour.
"You arrived ... How were your lessons?" The King asked, and Jon smile.
"As always, fascinating and entertaining, I never tire of debating with Raffnuff about what kind of rock would be best to start building the foundations of a tower," Jon said with a smile, recalling the debate he had with his mentor, the old dwarf was comparably easy to jape with.
"Alas, I did not call you here to speak of your lessons; I bear word from Arnor it seems Elendil has a task in mind for you," The King said seriously.
"A task?" Jon asked curiously.
"Yes, it seems Elendil wishes for you to venture to Dorwinion and secure the allegiance of the Vinter Lords," King Durin said with a smile, and Jon shared it with his now usual wolfish grin.
Dorwinion, its people were descendants of the Edain and had close ties to the men of Beleriand and Eriador, as well as fast friends with the Avari elves who dwelt there. Although it can't be said with certainty, who inhabited that land. What is known is that since the First Age, many Men wandered or settled the empty lands between the Iron Hills, the Greenwood and the Inland Sea. Although that was rather intriguing, it was not what made these fertile lands of the south so famous.
Dorwinion was a lush and fertile land located on the north-western shores of the Sea of Rhûn, surrounded by the River Running. The men of Dorwinion were known for making a heady wine, which was strong enough to let even Elves get drunk and fall asleep, and their fortunes came from the trading of this wine, particularly with the realms of King Oropher and the Dwarves of the Iron hills.
Jon didn't know why his King was sending him there, but he planned to enjoy it.
"Remove that ridiculous smile from your face, boy; there are grim tidings as well," King Durin said, his face hard as stone.
"What has happened?" Jon asked, and King Durin suddenly looked every one of his two-hundred and ten years.
"Elendil received word from his sons. Mordor is stirring again," Durin said, shaking his head with regret and weariness as Jon clenched his fists in a groan.
Even though fifty years have passed, Jon still remembered the Battle of Isengard, where Lord Celeborn and himself died along with hundreds of brave men all for of the wickedness of Sauron, who aspired to slay him and seize the Palantiri of Orthanc.
Since Jon has in his heart a strong desire to take revenge on the Lord of Mordor for all the pain and misery that he brought to his beloved Galadriel and himself as he still felt guilt for the death of Celeborn.
Jon desired nothing so much as to shatter Sauron's skull with Ghal-Maraz, but he knew that this was unmanageable and that even if he succeeded, the fallen Maia would eventually return as a child born from Ilúvatar's mind cannot be murdered.
That bothered him greatly like his master Morgoth and like all plagues, there was no doubt that Sauron was difficult to exterminate.
"Have there been attacks against the Free Peoples?" Jon asked with barely contained anger.
"No, however, we shall not let the Lord of Mordor press his advantage. Gondor is girding itself for war as our my peoples," Said the old King arching an eyebrow, and Jon understood him.
"That is my mission .. King Elendil wants me to make sure that the inhabitants of Dorwinion don't ally themselves with Sauron?" Jon said, and King Durin nodded.
"The people of Dorwinion are loyal friends to the Men of Arnor, and Elendil wishes to have those oaths renewed," Durin said, returning to his throne.
"King Elendil must not be assured of the loyalty of those men if he sends me there," Jon thought sarcastically.
"If that is the will of my King, I shall see it done," Jon said with a sigh.
"And if you can bring back the copious amount of wine, all the better," Said the King laughing.
"It will be a pleasure ... I suppose I should prepare for the trip ..." Jon said, excited to return to Annúminas when he finished his mission.
"Yes, before you depart, I would request a boon from you," King Durin said with a strange smile on his face.
"What boon?" Jon asked, arching an eyebrow; he had already known King Durin long enough to know that the Dwarf King loved a good jape or jest, and Jon had fallen for several of them during his stay.
"It is of little importance, but I ask that you go to Rivendell and deliver a gift," The King said with that wicked smile.
"What gift?" Jon asked suspiciously.
"Oh, it is a trifling matter merely something Ladies Írimë and Galadriel requested of me," Said the King with amusement as he saw Jon's face light up at the notion of seeing his beloved elves.
"Very well, and I may speak with Lord Elrond concerning these lands," Jon said with a shrug.
"Yes, I'm certain Elrond shall provide wise counsel", The King murmured, knowing full well the reason why Jon would venture to Imladris.
"Very well it has been decided though I have called you here for another reason, I shall grant you a gift as a token of friendship between our people's none save your distant kin Celebrimbor has lived among my people for such a count of years," King Durin said, gesturing to one of his advisers who nodded.
"King Durin, I need no gift for my time here is far more than any man deserved," Jon said with pride.
"Bah, nonsense, your love for my people is apparent to all; never in my entire life have I seen a man so young being as stubborn as a Dwarf and your efforts to learn the skills of my kin is commendable and while your companions left these halls you remained," Durin said with a withered smile.
Jon turned his gaze to where the King's advisor had gone, and he had now returned with something of incredible beauty, the most famous work of the Mines of Khazad-Dûm, something so valuable that even a King would gladly give half of his kingdom for his own.
A shirt of mithril mail.
That chainmail was forged by the hand of King Durin himself; Jon was sure of that because it was very similar to the one he had seen so many years ago when he first set foot in the lofty mansion.
This mail was far more splendid than the one in the golden galleries that shirt of mail had been made for a dwarvish princeling while this was fashioned for a man. It was close-woven of many rings, as supple, almost as linen, cold as ice, and harder than steel. It shone like moonlit silver and was studded with white gems and upon the face was two prancing wolves.
Jon was speechless merely he gazing at his gift and marvelling at its beauty Mithril was indeed a gift of the earth.
"It's far more than I deserve," Jon said, shedding a tear at such a wonderful gift.
"Bah, You are more worthy to wear the armour of elf princes many that have looked more comely in it consider it shall be a sign of the friendship between men and dwarves," King Durin said with a kind smile.
"I would not call this protection useless, my friend; I may heal quickly though my body still aches; this shall aid me in the wars to come," Jon said with a smile and an expression of gratitude.
"Glad to hear it, we chose the direwolf because we don't feel content carving the image of a dragon into such a valuable work," the King muttered.
"The dwarvish hatred for dragons shall never fade, it seems," Jon thought with amusement.
However, Jon stopped agonising about the hatred of the dwarves towards the dragons and noticed the dwarves brought out two more shirts of mail.
One had three golden roses on a field of green his brothers' personal sigil, while the second had bronze-coloured Runes studded with what looked like black iron the sigil of House Royce; it was apparent that King Durin had listened keenly when they spoke of their homeland.
"My brothers in arms shall be pleased," Jon thought with a smile, though his heart nearly burst when the counsellors brought forth the Mithril axe that had so enamoured his beloved sister when they had first entered these halls so long ago.
"My Lord, you honour me greatly," Jon said in shock.
"HAHAHAHA indeed though your friends are rather soft men, they had stood by you for lo these many years even before you landed on these shores such loyalty should be rewarded, please tell them that the doors of my domain will also be open for them if they wish to return," said King Durin.
"And the axe of Mithril?" Jon asked, intrigued.
"Oh well, that sister of yours seem rathered enamoured of it, but I'm afraid you shall have to work in the forge for half a year to earn this Axe for your dear sister," Said the King with satisfaction.
"Rhaenys shall be overjoyed to claim another axe though perhaps I could gift it to Arya should she desire it," Jon thought, resigned to toiling in the forges so that his beloved sister might be happy.
In the end, Jon took his gifts along with those of his friends and his half-sister before bowing to the Lord of Khazad-Dûm and withdrew to his rooms when Jon had left Durin renewed his counsel.
"That young man truly is exceptional majesty," said one of the Councilors.
"Yes, I really did not expect that a young man of the race of men could learn so much from our people," Said another Counselor.
"Indeed," said King Durin with a mixture of surprise and pride to see the excellent miner, blacksmith, craftsman, goldsmith and architect that Jon had become by living for a time in his domain.
"Jon once told you that you could not match a teacher of these halls, but perhaps I spoke too harshly you shall become a remarkable smith my friend mayhaps greater than Celebrimbor," Thought the old King feeling great pride for his friend.
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For the next two days, Jon prepared for the journey to Imladris, eager to see his beloved Lawlen and Galadriel again.
Most of them were pleased that Jon was gone for a while, oh, they have great appreciation and respect for the mighty warrior, but they grew weary of his sharp tongue and sharper wit.
As for Jon received from King Durin in addition to the letter from Elendil that arrived thanks to a bird, he received a royal seal from Arnor to prove his identity as an emissary of the King of the Dunedain, it was a beautiful thing a disc carved in gold and silver with the emblem of the House of Elendil a white tree in blossom beneath seven stars.
And the mysterious commission of King Durin, two small boxes, one of gold and the other of silver sealed with the emblem of the House of Durin, the gold one was for Lalwen while the silver one was for Galadriel, despite his interest, Jon didn't dare look in the parcels lest he arouses the ire of his maidens.
When two days passed on the morning of the third, Jon had all the things necessary for the journey, only one thing remained: the means of travel.
When Jon arrived in Khazad-Dûm half a century ago, it was not only with his companions, lovers and the rest of his family but Ghost, Lady, who now led a pack of noble wolves which roamed the lands slaying any dark creatures they found.
In addition, Lord Manwë's gryphon was still following him although the haughty animal treated him better, he was not pleased with Jon's decision to dwell in Khazad-dûm a creature of the skies had no business in such a dark place, so he stayed outside to his chagrin as apparently over the years the gryphon and Ghost had become akin to rivals.
However, those two were not Jon's only companions; he was a Targaryen as well as a Stark and just as his ancestors of the Free Hold had tamed the dragons, so had he.
Erú Ilúvatar had given Jon and his family dragon's that had perished before their time each was a legend in their day and age, and it seemed these mighty beasts were pleased to be recalled from the dead.
Jon's dragon was the greatest of all the dragons Eru had summoned from the rooms of command; her scales were bronze but glittered with hues of greenish-blue, and her eyes were a dazzling shade of green Jon knew this dragon from his studies of Septon Barth he rode Vhagar, the dragon of his forebear.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone