Child of the Stars

Cirdan hadn’t been entirely ignorant about what was behind the changes in Middle Earth. Ulmo often communicated with him. He certainly had noticed the effects of it. Instead of elves with the overwhelming need to sail west, more were content to stay. The sea-call was there, just quieter. More of an offering than a demand. The one he heard tended to be a suggestion, because of his determination not to leave until the last elf wanting to sail had.

He knew what that meant, and when it happened he wept. Those he feared were long lost had finally gone home. No longer did that weight of failure lay heavy on his shoulders. Part of the sea-call was of course to let elves know they were welcome back in Valinor. Yet it was also the incessant and increasing cry out for those that were missing. The lost ones that Cirdan never found. So he wept tears of remembered grief, released pain, and the quiet relief that they had been found.

While it was perhaps not entirely fair of him to keep this knowledge to himself, Ulmo had suggested that it would be for the best. Too much, too soon, too many people interested in the one that had managed this miraculous deed would not be good for the young one. Yet he doubted that the truth would remain hidden for long. Not with the life that was resurging in the land, sea and air. The waters had a clarity and were vibrant with sea life to a level he had not seen in a long time. Lands growing lush with plant life and all manners of creatures of the air flourishing.

When the missive arrived that the gathering had started ahead of schedule, he was far from surprised. While he rarely left Lindon these days, for this, he would. If for nothing else but to see the grandson of his foster-son Gil-Galad. Cirdan both owed that child his thanks, but also wanted to see this tie to his family. It would likely be a long time before he saw his son again. So he started out right away.

The signs of renewal continued to be evident as he crossed the land between Lindon and Imladris. A small smile rested on his face as he took in the signs of the victory of the light. For that is what this was. A victory against the forces that would tear this world apart to try and remake it in a cursed and corrupted version of itself. Cirdan’s journey was smooth and they quickly found themselves entering Imladris. Entering into a rather benign kind of chaos.

They had managed to arrive on the eve of the begetting day for the young one. A pity they had not known that part in advance or he would have brought a better gift for the elfling. Still at least he had brought something. Even with that excitement, his arrival did not go unnoticed, or without a stir of activity. Enough so that it drew attention.

“You really do have a beard!” The young voice startled some of his group but not Cirdan. He simply went to one knee so the young one did not have to crane his neck to see him properly. “That I do, and I see you do indeed bear the device of my foster-son. A star shines upon the hour of our meeting little one.” Raven-dark hair and jewel green eyes, an striking look. He could see signs of Gil-Galad here in his features, and in the curiosity evident in his gaze.

“My heart rejoices to meet you at last,” camp the prompt reply. “Grandfather told me stories about you. He loves you, I can tell.” The answer made the old elf smile. He could tell there were others on the side handling the logistics for his group and he would let them. Much more important to pay attention to the elfling in front of him. “And I love him.”

What he could see of the young one was utterly fascinating. Cirdan had many gifts and all showed this young one as a bright shining star, which fit the name Ulmo had told him. It showed both his strength and his sorrows. The many ties to people that cared, the family that loved, and the many potential paths he might travel. They could do great things once grown.

“Oh, I need to show you my boat! You like boats right?” The enthusiasm was endearing. “I do, but I was not aware you had one? You did not come through my harbors.” The grin he got in response held a touch of mischief. “That’s because I didn’t. Atar helped Aule build a boat to get across the sea and then the eagles brought both us and the boat to Imladris.”

His eyebrows winged up in surprise. Well apparently Ulmo didn’t tell him everything. Knowing his old friend and his sense of humor, that did not surprise him at all. So he stood and offered his hand to the young one. Yes there may be others that wanted his attention but this was far more important. “Show me.”

Gilriant had plenty of fun taking Cirdan down to see his boat. Legolas was kind enough to go get Maglor to join them. Having a hand in building it he was sure the shipwright would have questions for his Atar. Plus the prince of the Greenwood had yet to see it. Harry was pretty sure his friend didn’t have a huge interest in boats but this one was pretty cool and worth seeing. So they all went to where it had been stored.

Since he didn’t use it all the time they did bring it to a dry storage. That and because almost all the craftspeople wanted to examine it, typically multiple times. Maglor ended up being asked to come and answer questions multiple times. Especially from the ones that had served the house of Feanor. Hadn’t that been a bit of a shock when they realized that there were indeed some in Imladris.

In retrospect, it wasn’t that surprising that those of the House of Feanor that were left in Middle Earth ended up settling here. A son of the house ruled here. It was also a place where any and all were welcome. So while Maglor felt self-conscious when there were visitors here, which was often, it had helped him to relax by degrees. It wasn’t publicly bandied about, but more for the refugee’s comfort than anything else. There were both craftspeople and fierce fighters. All folded within the settlement that was Imladris.

Boat building wasn’t something that hugely interested Gilriant, but the people were. He was happy to chatter with them and ask questions. Sticking close to his new maybe relative of sorts? That could always be figured out later. What was interesting is that this was one new person that had not been shocked to see him here. Legolas looked a little overwhelmed but that wasn’t that odd.

The woodland elf had slowly been getting used to the differences in the place. Maybe he didn’t explore much on prior visits. Or maybe it was just that chaos tended to follow Harry on a level Legolas had yet to experience. Fun chaos anyways the elfling liked to think. Either way the ellon was paying attention to everything. It was kind of fun to see his reactions.

“Fascinating, so you say this all sped the boat onwards and kept to a set course?” Cirdan was going over the combination of runes and quenya inscribed into the boat and then empowered. “Yes!” Gilriant answered cheerfully, even though he had absolutely nothing to do with the actual boat building. He was at least there for that part. “It went just straight ahead and was really fast. Though I think Ulmo helped some with the fast part in the water.”

A slight smile was on Cirdan’s face. “My lord Ulmo is helpful with ships crossing the waters. He also seems to have a bit of a sense of humor.” Well that certainly gave Gilriant a clue as to the lack of shock on the old elf’s part. “Did he tell you about me then?” Now that question got just about everyone’s attention. “That he did.” The expression on the shipwright’s face further softened. “And that I owe you many thanks for bringing my friends home.”

Gilriant shook his head and shifted over to grab on to Maglor. “No you don’t. There was no way I was going to just leave them there. Not when I needed to leave too.” Cirdan watched the young one’s movements with evident acute interest. “I beg to differ, I certainly do. Even if you needed to leave yourself, you still put forth the effort and were the reason they could come home. So you have my thanks.” When the elfling grabbed on to Maglor with both hands, the bard bent down to scoop the young one up.

“I just did what anyone else that could have done it would do.” Gilriant insisted, latching on again this time to Maglor’s shirt with both hands. This kind of praise made him uncomfortable. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. Regardless of that, you still did it. Thus have my thanks.” There was a faint line of concern on Cirdan’s face at the young one’s reactions. After a whispered word from Maglor, the elfling finally responded. “Um, your welcome?”

“I also appreciate you bringing me here to see your boat.” Harry relaxed. This one was much easier. “You are welcome! I like showing it off. It is fun to see what people think of it.”

“Lord Cirdan, I am not surprised this is the first thing you wanted to do.” The amused voice of Elrond brought their attention to him. “If I had known a boat that Aule had a hand in making was here I likely would have had difficulty not visiting sooner. Which is likely while my lord Ulmo did not tell me of it.” The shipwright replied with good humor.

“You would have scarcely been the only one to arrive early if that had happened.” The wry response drew a laugh from Gilriant. “Though I am glad you arrived in time. Tomorrow will be a celebration for my brother’s begetting day.” That earned a groan for the elfling. “Still not sure why it is such a big deal.”

Legolas’ voice was amused. “I did warn you my friend.” Gilriant responded by sticking his tongue out at the woodland elf. “Alright,” came Maglor’s amused voice. “Let's get you cleaned up and let Elrond talk to Lord Cirdan. Everyone can always come back and take a look at the boat later if they want to.”

***

Gilriant wasn’t sure if it was elves that were weird, or it was the fact that they were adults, or that they were both. Either way the amount of fuss was just odd. And while the energy and everyone was positive, it still was unnerving the amount of focus on him today. To be fair he typically was the focus of attention most of the time, which was a whole different kind of weird. But it typically wasn't this intense. After a certain point he just needed to retreat.

The best part was shortly after he climbed a tree Haldir and Hallows came and took sentry at the bottom of it. Waving off anyone that came close. While he was certain that most of his family would absolutely let him have quiet time, it was awesome that the marchwarden chose to do that. Sure he could have retreated into the family wing and hidden there. But that wasn’t exactly foolproof. Plus being in the trees relaxed him. Sometimes it was nice to just sit and listen to the trees sing.

He used what Haldir had taught him. Let thoughts drift away until all there was, was what was in the moment. The heaviness falls away, find that peace. Balance the center and simply let things be. Helpful for both trying to understand what his senses were telling him, and stress relief. Yes sometimes the marchwarden just knew what Gilriant needed, somehow. The elfling was very lucky to have him as part of his life.

When he was finally ready Gilriant started climbing back down the tree. As he got to the last branches Haldir reached to help him down. Taking advantage of that, the elfling wrapped his arms around the marchwarden’s neck. “Thank you,” he murmured softly. “Of course,” Came the equally soft reply. “Whatever you need.”

Adjusting his hold to carry the elfling with one arm he turned to start walking. “I think it's time for a bit of archery practice. Your present is here, do you want to give it a try?” Gilriant perked up. “Yes!”

While there was some instruction, what else happened was equally entertaining. Legolas and the twins showed up, and there was some friendly bickering about various types of bows and techniques. Which somehow ended up in a competition. This was much more fun than being the center of focus. The elven version of trash talking was also highly entertaining. They were still at it when Arwen kidnapped him for their tea party. Gilriant wasn’t entirely sure they realized when he left.

Even though there was going to be a banquet later, they still had their tea party. A nice routine for the six of them, Hedwig always seemed to enjoy the way she was included and never failed to show up. Gilriant enjoyed this regular time with Arwen and Celebrian. He enjoyed the inclusion of Lindir and Mellessin. It was a different kind of energy. Not one that he would necessarily call softer, just different. Plus they kept teaching him different kinds of braiding. This time it was super-fancy. Showing him how to incorporate beads or semi-precious stones into the braids. Of course they let him practice too. When he asked, they even gave him supplies to use on his Atar’s hair.

What also was nice is that they tended to not wear any of the phoenix feathers in their hair unless he was the one doing the braiding. They always brought them back to him. So whenever he did the braids of whatever style, there was at least a couple of the feathers of either Hedwig or Fawkes tucked into them. Regardless of why they did it, it gave him a feeling of pride. Even though Lindir was undoubtedly busy with things for the feast tonight, he still made sure to spend the time with them for the tea party.

While there wasn’t anyone his ‘age’ to ‘play’ with, he never had a shortage of people willing to spend time with him. To be honest, Harry didn’t think he would fit in well with a typical elfling. So this worked just fine for him. Gilriant just had to show up somewhere and they would typically include him in whatever they were doing. Granted no one would give him any actual work outside of lessons. That didn’t matter as much as no matter where he went, they never made him feel unwanted or like he didn’t belong.

Instead of a formal feast, it ended up being a more relaxed affair. Gilriant moved around the room enjoying different foods and talking to people. He wasn’t sure if Haldir said anything but it didn’t feel focused on him. More of a general celebration and he was being welcomed into people’s spaces.

Of course he dragged his Atar around with him, including over to Legolas. While yes Thranduil was there the King only gave the bard a narrow eyed look before focusing on the elfling. He didn’t quite sigh, “While I suppose that is an attractive look, I do trust that you are being taught Sindaran culture as well.” Gilriant just grinned as Maglor helped him settle in a seat. “Yes, Erestor is including all kinds of cultures in my lessons. There are all kinds of elves living in Imladris so they help too. Everyone is always kind when I ask questions.”

“As they should be. Lord Elrond’s Seneschal is your teacher? Well I have heard of his scholastic nature. I may speak to him myself to make sure your lessons are suitable for you.” Gilriant was far more amused than anything else by the King’s attitude. “Ada, I am sure everything is well. I very much doubt anyone in Imladris is not going to make sure he is thoroughly educated.” While Legolas wasn’t disagreeing per say, their interaction was still amusing to the elfling. “Of course not, that does not mean that questions should be asked.”

He stayed with them long enough to have the King insist he try several dishes in between volunteering his opinions on things. While some might find it offensive it actually felt oddly nostalgic to Harry. It wasn’t lost on him the resemblance Thranduil had to the Malfoys. This felt more like the kind of positive relationship he might have had a chance for once upon a time with them. So given this opportunity, he wanted to embrace it. That and he had been asked to make sure both father and son and as well as the Greenwood were doing well. Gilriant could handle the slightly snobby airs.

As he dashed off to give Haldir a hug, he noticed the tables had been set out to represent the various elf havens and their cultures. One of Haldir’s brothers had come along so he got to meet Rumil. Apparently it was amusing to him how he interacted with the marchwarden. At least that’s how the elfling interpreted the comments and looks. Gilriant kept his back to Galadriel.

No one had asked him, he had told them she could be there as long as she behaved and he need not interact with her. Celeborn had been the one to extend apologies on behalf of both leaders of Lothlorian about the incident. Gilriant had accepted the apology from him. The elfling said nothing of forgiveness and it too was not asked of him.

Eventually Elladan scooped him up and carted him off to join the dancing while Elrohir quietly but stubbornly took Maglor to join the musicians. Dancing in Imladris was nothing like the dancing in the wizarding world. While yes there were some traditional dances most of the time it was simply free form of people moving to the music. The inherent grace of the elves meant that no one stumbled into each other. At least not until much later in the night if there had been a great abundance of wine.

Instead Gilirant found himself spun and twirled around between many elves. There seemed to be some sort of informal competition to see who could make him laugh the most with sheer enjoyment. Even Legolas took a turn. It seemed like he had danced with nearly every elf in attendance. It was just about having fun.

When twilight hit, a hush fell over the group as a small flock of nightingale descended upon them. They took perches throughout the room all facing Gilriant and started to sing. Delighted the elfing listened as they wove their calls around him in a cascading melody. It was beautiful, birdsong in a way he had never heard before. When they finished the flock flew in circles around him and he twirled with them until they flew off again.

Cirdan leaned towards Mithrandir. “Radagast, or did you somehow get word to Melian?” The gray wizard adopted a look of befuddlement. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” More amused than offended the shipwright just smiled. “I am sure you did not.”

***

Saruman arrived in Imladris the day after the festivities. Disgruntled at the somewhat quiet welcome to the city. This did not help his irritation that he was apparently the last to arrive. To him it seemed he was also the last to know and the last to be invited. Which is not the way things should be as he was the leader of the istari. Yet Gandalf was already here building a relationship with the elfling. He was ready to take the reports of the young one’s abilities as a vast over exaggeration and then get down to the business of actually determining what was going on. Then he saw him.

An elfling in form perhaps but the power under the young one’s skin was evident. It shone as brightly as any of Varda’s stars. Tightly wrapped around him yet at the same time curious fingers lightly touched the world around him. Someone so young, so powerful would need guidance and teaching as he aged. Curunir moved forward to intercept him. That is when the young one turned, saw him, made a startled sound and stepped backwards.

Gilriant met the gaze of the newest arrival, likely the white wizard they told him about, and his reality fractured. Dozens of scenes past and present featuring the istari in front of him. Interactions with many elves, some known to him and some not. Even the ainur featured in what he saw. Overlaid the images were emotions, a complicated festering knot that he didn’t even know how to begin to sort out.

Then more images flooded in of futures yet to come. Hopeful and utterly terrifying. There seemed to be no middle ground here. The ground opened up and corruption spilling forth in an overwhelming wave that battered at him. Wordlessly he cried out, reaching for the one he thought would be able to best aid him.

Brother! Help! It’s too much, Brother please!

Then Elrond was there, crouched in front of him. Hands on either side of his face and forehead touching his. The waves of images slowing, fading, stopping. Gilriant’s breathing shuddered and then started to calm as Elrond scooped him up. “Better?” He nodded, wrapping his arms around his brother’s neck. “I can’t sort them all out, it's too many.”

“Hmmm, my office then.” Elrond answered, turning in that direction. “Atar is coming?” Gilriant kept a tight grip on his brother. “Right behind us,” was the calm reply. “Curunir needs to come too. He needs to understand.” The lord of Imladris only paused a step before nodding. “Of course.” Which was likely a little redundant as the white wizard was already following them.

“Not Mithrandir, he can be told later.” The elfling sighed, his head tucked under his brother’s chin. “Haldir?”

“I’m here little one, whatever you need.” Gilriant further went limp, more tension bleeding away. Everything was still a jumble but it was enough to start sorting it out. Focusing on that more than his surroundings but he did notice that they stopped moving and there was the sound of a door shutting.

“Will you let me look?” Came Elrond’s gentle question as he settled them in a chair. Gilriant struggled to sit up and position himself to look around. His brother helped him. “Yes but first I, I need to say something.” Shifting around until he faced the white wizard.

“I know Vaire’s gift when I see it. What were you shown child?” Gilriant gave a faint frown at Curunir. “All is not yet lost, but there is a trap you are dangerously close to completely giving yourself over to. Power is an illusion, as is might, and superiority. Such things are masks to hide deeper truths. We are all but pieces of the same whole. Each our own strengths and it is only together we are strong. Separate we are weak. When you are starving you don’t need a soldier, you need a farmer. One is not mightier than the other. And no one should be so certain of what they think they know, as to think it as an absolute.” He screwed up his face. “There is more but I can’t, I can’t . . . “ Leaning back he curled up against his brother, feeling an arm come firmly around him.

When Elrond went to touch his face he nodded. He could feel his brother’s light touch, and the kaleidoscope of images briefly stirred only to calm and sink further away.

You did well little brother, I have it now. Rest.

He was only too happy to follow that instruction. Harry really hoped that there was a way to return to sender this particular gift. Vaire was being a bit too generous and this is one he could really do without. “Atar needs to stay,” He mumbled. “Explain. It is like, Dumbledor and Voldemort put together.”

There was a murmur of voices and another set up of hands picking him up. Gilriant easily recognized Haldir and curled into the marchwarden. Somehow he always ended up being where the elfling needed him to be. Up to and including helping carry him away from situations he was not yet ready for. He really should find Rumil and ask for help in finding what Haldir might like as a thank you.

Elrond studied Curunir as Haldir carried Gilriant away. Unfortunately it seemed his brother’s gift had woken up with a vengeance. He also seemed to not have the best of luck with the istari.