Chapter Text
The visitors were no more than a handful, younger Elves of Lórien and beyond, either newly returned or brought by tales of second chances in a fading world from other elven realms. They seemed respectful, almost shy as they observed from behind Galadriel and the two elven maidens she had on her arms, young she-elves looking alike like twins would. Annatar stood as they entered the space. Among them was a dark-haired Elf scarcely beyond adulthood by Elven standards. He carried himself with the curiosity of someone who had grown up hearing about a world that no longer existed. His name was Rhovandir, born during the years of Lórien when empty levels had become more common than crowded ones. Unlike many of the older Elves he remembered little of the Golden Woods at its height and therefore carried fewer certainties about what it should be like so while the others hesitated Rhovandir did not. His grey eyes moved between Galadriel and Annatar several times before curiosity finally overcame caution and he spoke first surging forward from the side, “you are the one the forest listens to.”
Annatar’s gaze shifted to him, “I am the one it ceased to rely upon,” he corrected.
Rhovandir blinked as that was clearly not the answer he had expected. “But it follows your guidance.”
“No,” Annatar's expression remained calm, “it learned from me.”
The younger Elf frowned thoughtfully, “that sounds similar.”
Annatar regarded him for a moment longer, “no the distinction is important.”
The visitors exchanged glances recalibrating their expectations. Among them stood a silver-haired elleth named Nimril, older than Rhovandir by some centuries and one of the few who had remained in Lórien through much of its decline rather than departing West. She had spent years helping to maintain the empty halls and abandoned walkways while wondering whether anyone would ever return. “Are you Lórien's Lord now?”
“No I am not its lord, I was simply a reference it stopped needing.”
That answer did not satisfy anyone entirely. Galadriel watched them carefully noting the shift in their posture to more confusion. One of the twins let go of the Lady of Light to address him, “you are not what our parents told us to expect before they left us,” she looked at her sister.
Annatar’s expression softened into acknowledgment, “your parents were likely accurate at the time.”
Galadriel seemed to look at the two with more warmth than the others, “Hal this is Lothíriel and her sister Nimwen, daughters of Arwen Undómiel. They arrived in Lórien not long ago.”
The two young women inclined their heads politely. Though twins they were not identical. Lothíriel carried herself with the open curiosity that had prompted her question, her grey eyes bright with interest and little inclination to hide it. Nimwen was quieter, more observant watching Annatar with the same careful attention she had inherited from her mother. At the mention of Arwen something gentler entered Annatar’s expression, “Elrond's granddaughters,” he observed.
“And Estel's daughters,” Lothíriel added immediately.
To Galadriel's amusement, that made him smile, “I’d imagine they would insist on equal recognition.”
“They would.” The room relaxed slightly as Nimwen agreed. The twins had grown up hearing stories of the great figures of the Third Age. To them Galadriel had always been a grandmother spoken of with reverence, Elrond was family, Gandalf was a legend while Sauron had been a Shadow safely defeated before their birth. Yet the elf standing before them did not resemble any story they had been told.
Lothíriel frowned, “you saved Lórien not to be its Lord?”
Annatar looked uncomfortable, “I attempted to prevent its further decline because your great grandmother thinks Elvenkind still has a lot to live for in the beauty that is this world and so do I.”
Nimwen's gaze drifted towards the windows where the golden leaves moved in the breeze, “so you are saying that the stories have not caught up with your truth yet?”
Annatar looked genuinely uncertain how to respond and Galadriel found the reaction endearing. “You do not need certainty from him. The truth about what is here now will become evident soon.”
“So if Lorien no longer needs you and you haven’t claimed it, then would you be willing to depart from the realm and leave it to be governed by a council of my peers?” It was Lothiriel challanging him.”
He looked at Galadriel somewhat taken aback so the Noldorin answered first, “you go I go with you,” she appeased him immediately anticipating his biggest qualms about leaving. She didn’t seem surprised by the twins’ request either, “if anything is amiss you could always send for me,” she squeezed her descendants’ hands.
tbc