Silmarillion Writers' Guild

Series: Cousins
Title: A Sleep Over
Author: phyncke
Character(s): Aredhel and Galadriel
Rating: G
Beta(s): Tuxedo Elf and Aglarien
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Summary: Galadriel comes for a sleep over to Aredhel’s house to disastrous consequence.
Warning: Spooky.




A Sleep Over

If anyone had bothered to notice, the house this evening had gone all too still, with a hushed expectation. Gone were the giggles, the childish peals of laughter, no more running feet. Fingolfin was tucked away in his study; Anairë sat reading and the boys were all out riding somewhere so they might see the sunset.

Aredhel had begged and cajoled and pleaded until her cousin Galadriel had been allowed to come over to stay the night. Lord Finarfin dropped her off with her satchel early in the day so they might have many glorious hours together. They were thick as thieves those two, snatching cookies fresh baked from the kitchen, stomping up and down the stairs, legs akimbo and causing no small amount of commotion.

But now it was eerily quiet.

Fingolfin looked up from his parchments for a moment and wondered at the lack of noise but then buried himself in the latest bit of work from the Tirion assembly. What trouble could two little girls get into? He should have known better.

They were in little Aredhel's room, which was remarkably clean and done all in whites. She had a propensity for white surprising for a girl of her age. She liked the neatness of it, the calmness. It all looked so tidy and she was not one for frills, though Anairë could not resist a ruffle or two here and there.

As they stood thinking of things to do, Galadriel declared, "I will tell you your future. I can, you know. I have pre…pre…pre-conviction…"

Galadriel thought that was the word her mother had said when she'd had one of those dreams again.

"We need to pull the drapes and light a candle…"

It crossed Aredhel's mind that her cousin was a bossy bit of goods, but she scurried to do as she was bid. She so wanted to hear her future. It had to be good. She was sure it would be good. She would marry a handsome elf, live in a gorgeous palace and eat bonbons all day, dressed in long white gowns. Wouldn't that just be splendid? They could ride and hunt and do all the things she liked to do.

She untied the heavy drapes, and the room fell to darkness. Hurrying to fetch a light source, she found a candlestick with a large thick candle from the hall table. As an afterthought, she grabbed the wooden matches from the lace runner. They made a slight rattling sound as she walked back into the bedroom.

The two young girls positioned themselves in the middle of the room, on the ornate carpet, cross-legged. The dimness of the room enveloped them and Galadriel took charge as she did at such moments, opening the matches and lighting the candle with an overly dramatic flourish.

"I want to know who I will marry, cousin, and where we will live and how many children we will have and if we will he happy and..."

Aredhel had an endless array of questions but was quickly interrupted by her level-headed relative.

"Shhh. You must be still and very, very quiet. I have to think, and conjure the images of what will be…"

Aredhel fell silent and stared at the pale, translucent face of Galadriel haloed by thick, shimmering golden hair. The flickering light of the candle made her look different than her usual fun-loving self. She appeared serious, powerful and older somehow, potent.

"Look into the flame with me, Aredhel. Your future is told in the flame…"

Their eyes widened as they concentrated on the small, but persistent fire of the candle. The two little elves stared with intense concentration at the dancing flame. For ones so small, they showed remarkable restraint and perseverance. The room felt heavy with the silence between them and the only sounds were the sizzle of the tiny flame and the breathing of the two elflings.
Minute after minute passed which seemed like hours to Aredhel, as she fidgeted on the rug. The ominous silence was broken when Galadriel began to speak in an emotionless voice, which sounded like it came from outside of her body.

“You will meet a dark elf in a dark forest and he will try to possess you utterly, in body, spirit and mind. You will have a child by this elf who will bring betrayal and ruination upon your own family and indeed on many elves. Your future is bleak and you will meet a tragic end, Aredhel, daughter of Fingolfin.”

The subject of this prophecy looked on in mute horror as the words came tumbling out of her friend’s mouth. Terrified, she demanded in a shout,

“Take it back!”

“I cannot alter what the fates have in store.”

“Take it BACK, I say!”

“I cannot!”

Galadriel shook her head and her lips set in a stubborn line. What she said was true and no amount of taking it back would change events many years from now. Aredhel sat across from her stubborn cousin and felt the frustration well up in her, followed soon after by fury. This could not be! It would not be! Tears began to spill down her cheeks and then her eyes narrowed.

“We will see about this!”

In movements so swift that the candle was extinguished, Aredhel rose to her feet and exited the bedchamber, slamming the door soundly behind her. Galadriel, left all alone in darkness, could hear what transpired outside the room. Her immediate fate was sealed by her own ominous words.

“Faaaaaatheeeeeerrrrrrrr…..!!!!”

The study door opened and the heavy tread of Lord Fingolfin could be heard in the hall. His boots reverberated on the marble of the entryway downstairs. He met his daughter and knelt to receive her muffled, sobbing explanation of what had occurred upstairs. He gave her a fatherly hug of comfort and soothed her as best he could. Dark elf in a dark forest, eh? That sounded like his niece alright, of all the romantic, half-cooked notions…

He sent Aredhel off to her mother, and began the slow march up the staircase to deal with Galadriel. He would be gentle, of course, but scaring his daughter with tales of a tragic future; he could not have it.

Galadriel’s future was easy to see for the moment, plain as the frown on her uncle’s face.

*Finis*

Author’s Note: I take license in using the name Galadriel. She would have at that time gone by the name Artanis or Nerwen which were her father name and mother name respectively in Quenya. I do this to keep the story accessible and for ease of reading.