aaurenel Sarlayqua, said to be one of the most beautiful maidens in Dol-Amroth had been born in this ancient city, and lived by the sea for five and twenty years.  Her life was peaceful and happy, for Dol-Amroth was ruled well by the Prince, and what evil stirred in the East, though it had already proclaimed itself, did not yet reach so far East with its black hand.  Dol-Amroth, an ancient elven harbour turned later by men into a big and prospering city was beautiful and peaceful, as is the sea on a windless day. 

But our story begins on the day Laurenel left her home, for it was her wish to see Minas Tirith, Capital of Gondor, fairest, it is said, of the cities of the Southern Kingdom.  The roads of Gondor were safe at that time, for they were patrolled well by the rangers.  Laurenel, moreover, was a brave young woman, and had no fear of travelling alone, riding by day, and spending the night in the small villages by the road. 

Minas Tirith was indeed marvellous.  The White City exceeded all the young woman’s expectations.  Its very walls spoke of ancient glory, and yet it didn’t weigh on one who passed through it, and despite being a fortress prepared for war, it was beautiful and welcoming.  And yet, more wondrous than the City of the Kings of Gondor was a young ranger, Elphir.

Elphir Elenhilya was then twenty eight, a ranger of Gondor, serving in Ithilien under Captain Faramir’s command.  At dawn he was returning home, to the White City, for he had been granted a few days off duty.  Approaching the city as the sun rose above it, when the gleaming rays of the morning sun touched the ancient walls setting them on fire, and the tower of Ecthelion exalted above, shining as a spike of white crystal, Elphir beheld a young woman standing by the road, holding the reigns of her horse, unable to tear her eyes away from this breathtaking beauty.  She was standing with her back to the young ranger, looking at the Tower of the Rising Sun. 

“Marvellous, isn’t it?”  Elphir addressed her in a quiet, gentle voice, approaching.  Laurenel turned.  Her dark hair was drawn into an elegant bun, but unleashed, this gleaming dark cascade would have easily reached her knees.  Her eyes, hidden under long eyelashes were grey as the shadow of twilight, gleaming as the two last stars that may be seen in the morning sky.  Her soft skin was like white marble, and her full, elegant lips were like the corals found in the deep seas. 

“Yes.” She replied, finding nothing better to say.  Laurenel was surprised by the voice addressing her from behind, but she wasn’t scared, for this voice was very polite and gentle, a melodic baritone filled with nothing but great respect.  Turning, she beheld a man in the flower of his manhood, when the freshness of youth hadn’t yet passed away, but was already complemented by the wisdom and the even temper of maturity.  Elphir was strong and well-built.  His figure would have promised security even without the ranger uniform – a known mark of honour.  He was young and handsome; his jet black hair fell in gentle locks to his shoulders, while his face was neatly shaven, except for an elegant moustache.  His eyes were deep and grey, with only a slight shade of brown in them, and they were filled with kindness and courtesy. 

Elphir showed Laurenenl around the City that day, finding always the most beautiful sights, and delighting the young woman with an interesting conversation.  And when the evening came, Laurenel, to her surprise, found that she did not want to part with this gallant young ranger.  To her surprise, she was in love! 

Elphir didn’t have more than a few days to spend with Laurenel; he had to return to Ithilien.  Laurenel, meanwhile, had to write more than one letter home if she wanted this relationship with the young ranger to go any further.  But it was all done, and ere two months were past, the two were married. 

It was a year after that that Laurenel bore Elphir their first child.  Late in the evening of the fourteenth of Girithron, when the first snowflakes of that year were swirling outside, the baby’s first cry pierced the young couple’s house, filling their hearts with joy.  Even from her birth, the girl was like her mother in appearance, but her mind was rather her fathers, for she was strong-willed and adventurous, and ever she sought excitement, having no fear of battle, and yet kindness and merriness were ever in her soul, and mercifulness for any enemy.  And they named her Galastel – ‘Light of Hope’ for their lives were filled with light and hope, and the girl was a fulfillment of their happiness amid the darkness ever drawing near.

Three years later a second child was born in the Elenhilya family.  This time Eru granted Elphir a son, and he named him Anardil, for the child was born on a sunny morning in Urui, and he at once extended his little hands towards the warm sun, towards the playful ray that was tickling his newborn face. 

he times were now turning dark in Gondor, and Elphir was often far away from home, fighting in Ithilien, but despite the darkness, the two children grew up happily.  As is only natural, they were friends with many of the other ranger’s children, for they were of like minds, bold, at times reckless, and always seeking for an interesting adventure.  But the days that were most precious to the two children of all their childhood were the brief days when Elphir was home.  Above all else they delighted in their father’s wonderful stories, and he would spend many an hour telling them of all that he had seen in the East.  Of brave men he spoke, and of cruel orcs, and of far-off lands of which he had only heard, seeing the warriors that marched from there to join the Enemy.  And often in his stories appeared Boromir and Faramir, two great captains of outstanding courage and skill.  And the children grew to love them and admire them, and they were happy that such brave men lived in their city.  As all their friends, Galastel and Anardil were very proud of the White City, and they believed that for so long as such Captains as Denethor’s two sons stood in the head of Minas Tirith’s troops, and for so long as their parents were fighting for their land, no danger could pass the walls of the White City.  For although the children were young, their parents weren’t able to hide from them the surrounding danger, and indeed, they understood it better than any other group of children in Minas Tirith.

ut the Shadow in the East was ever growing longer.  Boromir left Minas Tirith, and no word came from him.  Every time Faramir set out for an action, fewer would return than had gone with him.  Until at last, almost a year after Boromir had left, the time came when it was no longer safe to stay in Minas-Tirith.  Elphir, unable to leave his post in Ithilien even for a single day, sent word to his family to leave the city at once, and seek refuge in Dol-Amroth, where Laurenel’s relatives still dwelt.  However Galastel, who was then ten, was not willing to go.  She deemed it to be an act of cowardice to run away, leaving her home behind.  And that was indeed but a natural thought to a child of a ranger, but it was mistaken, for of what use could she be, staying in the White City in the time of war?  A child, she could hardly be of any use, but would rather be a burden, another thing for the warriors to worry about.  This thought did not occur to her, however, and moved only by the love to her homeland, she decided not to desert her home.  On night before their departure she ran away, and her best friend Bergil hid her in his house.  On the next morning Laurenel and Anardil had no choice but to leave alone, for they could not tarry for long, seeking for the mischievous girl.  However, one shouldn’t think that Laurenel was leaving her daughter to whatever fate would find her.  The woman understood quite well that Galastel had help in hiding, and she had no doubt that whoever helped her in this, would also help her in everything else until Elphir’s return.  Also, by the age of ten, Galastel was an independent child, and could take care of herself for a few days.  For Laurenel understood well the reason for which they had to depart; the rangers feared that the city would come under a siege, and that would mean that the men would return home.  Nor was Galastel the only child staying in Minas Tirith.  Bergil was staying, and a few others, mostly children of rangers.  Besides, Laurenel could think of no punishment more severe than leaving Galastel to manage alone, and to see what war looked like.  That the White City might stand in the actual danger of falling did not enter her thoughts, for that fear was so great, that she didn’t dare to utter it even in her mind.  Yet, the mother made sure there was enough food in the house’s cellars to last for several days, and left also money, in case anything was needed.

s you can imagine, Elphir wasn’t happy upon his return from Ithilien to find Galastel in Minas Tirith.  The girl had been doing quite well on her own, but she was utterly unaware of the danger that hung over the White City.  She still wholly trusted in the courage and skill of the rangers to break any attack, and the thought of the reinforcement that had come but a few days ago lifted her heart, though she understood well that too few had come.  The child could very well say that the battle would be hard, but in her heart she didn’t really comprehend the meaning of this, and the great numbers of the enemy said nothing to her, opposed to the courage and heroism of the men of Gondor. 

Elphir didn’t tell Galastel any stories that evening, nor did he wish to listen to her excited tails of the Perian Prince, and how Bergil spent a whole afternoon with him.  He didn’t even tell the girl of the two Perians he himself had seen in Ithilien, and for the first, and last, time, he sent her to sleep without dinner.   But the father didn’t have much time to be angry with his child.  Ere two days were gone, Faramir was sent away again, to defend Pelargir, and Elphir went with him.  Many wondered at this move, but none dared question Lord Denethor’s decision.  Galastel was left alone once again.

On the day Lord Faramir returned for the second time to Minas Tirith, Galastel regretted for the first time that she hadn’t gone to Dol-Amroth.  Now, however, it was already too late to change her decision.  The night before the siege had begun.

Bergil and Galastel stood on the wall, watching the rangers’ desperate flight to the gates, their attempts to break through the besieging army, to win their way to safety.  The hands of the two children were clutched in fear for these men, and their hearts were beating fast, and they dared not look away, nor even blink.  As if glued to the wall they stood, and indeed they weren’t alone, for none of those who knew what was happening, could turn his gaze away from the scene.  They saw the rangers fighting against this great dark force, they saw the way Lord Faramir lingered always in the end, with the wounded, helping them, and managing to keep his whole force in order despite the terror surrounding them, they saw the sortie of the knights of Dol-Amroth, they saw the winged beast stooping over Lord Faramir, they saw the White

Rider coming forth, and finally they saw Prince Imrahil bearing Faramir into the citadel.  It seemed certain to them that the young son of the Steward, whom they so loved and honoured, was dead, as indeed were many rangers, who should have never been out on that battlefield.  Bergil was unable to hide his tears, and Galastel didn't even try.  Thus it was that Elphir found them, still standing on the wall, mourning for the fate of the brave captain.  The young ranger had not the heart to be angry with his daughter any longer, not now, when pain weighed so heavily on their hearts.  Laying his right hand on the boy’s shoulder, and the left – on the girl’s, he took them home. 

he next day was dark, and the day after that darker still, for that was the day when the Battle on the Pellenor Fields was fought.  Galastel and Bergil were running errands for the healers that day, for it was but their duty, as well as their desire, to do what they could for Minas Tirith in its time of need.  Bergil was the most useful that day, for he had the luck of finding the two Perians, and also the one to bring Kingsfoil to the King, but Galastel was first in the Houses of Healing when the King came, and she caught a glimpse of him as he entered, but she had not the time to tarry and look at him, for she was busy bringing bandages, and herbs, and water to wherever these were needed.  Nor was it at the moment the King Returned who occupied her thoughts.  Elphir was out, on the field that day, and she had not yet seen him.  Only late in the evening, when the battle was already long over, did Elphir return at last, and the child was comforted, for he was alive, nor was he wounded that day.  Yet, on the next morning the children were left alone again, for both Elphir and Berglund departed, led by Lord Aragorn to the very gates of the Dark Land, for a reason neither the boy nor the girl could understand. 

On the first day of the journey Elphir chanced to talk with one Galenard Ambarion, one of the Dunedain of the North, who had come with the King.  They were men of similar character and similar interests, and as it often happens in time of great danger, they soon became fast friends.  Under the shadow of fear, they were making happy plans for the future, imagining how wonderful the world will be when the King would sit on the throne of Gondor and Arnor reunited.  And in these hours of darkness and growing fear, hope was in their hearts. 

But it was not Elphir’s fate to see these joyous plans come true, nor did he see the King crowned in Minas Tirith at last.  Elphir Elenhilya did not survive the Battle of the Morannon.  When the Black Gates opened, and thousands of orcs and trolls, and Easterlings and Haradrim swarmed the plain around the two outposts of men, Elphir and Galenard fought valiantly side by side.  But even as the eagles appeared over the horizon, a cunningly thrown orc javelin cleaved Elphir’s armour, piercing his body.  Elphir’s spear was shattered, and the sword fell from his hand.  Galenard bore his wounded friend out of the battle.  But he couldn’t heal the hideous wound, nor stop the running blood.  Elphir died in his friend’s hands, hearing not the cries of hope that the eagles were coming, knowing not that the battle would be won in but a few minutes.  He died in despair, believing that all was lost, that Minas Tirith would fall, and Middle-earth would be covered in darkness.  But ere he died, in a failing voice Elphir asked Galenard to bear news of his death to Laurenel, and he gave the man his wedding ring, by which the young woman would know the Northern Ranger was speaking truth.  And Galenard swore to the dying man to help and support his wife and children as much as was in his power, for they were alone now in this world.

n the first day of May the King returned to his city. Galastel watched the coronation with Laurenel and Anardil, who had by then returned from Dol-Amroth.  Their joy was great, for this was the hour Gondor had been awaiting for many a generation.  This hour promised, as it seemed to them, that there would be no more wars, and Gondor would have peace and safety at last, and the King would sit in Glory on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom for ever, and rule it with justice, and wisdom, and mercy.  They couldn't wait for Elphir to come home at last, for they had heard no tide from him, nor did they see him in the King’s escort. But when the King was gone into the citadel and the great crowd assembled to see the coronation came apart, Laurenel went home with her children, still not knowing the fate that had befallen her beloved.  But it wasn’t an hour later, and the family had not yet removed their festive clothes, when Galenard found the house Elphir had told him about, and brought the young widow the news of grief. 

Before the stranger Laurenel attempted to hide her grief, and she thanked the man politely, asking him to come in, and tell her all the details of her husbands last battle, but she couldn’t live without her beloved.  She fell ill, and in the first days of June she died, leaving Galastel and Anardil to the cares of the man who had sworn to support them.  For during this week Galenard, true to his oath, and touched to the very core of his heart by the young woman’s grief, came of ten to the house on the Old King’s street, helping as much as he could, and Laurenel had come to know him, and dying she knew that at least she was leaving her children in good hands.  It was at the death of fair Laurenel that the full duty that he had taken on himself at the battle of the Morannon fell on Galenard’s shoulders.  He had to be now both father and mother to the two orphans. 

 alenard tarried in Minas Tirith until King Elessar’s wedding, but then he set out North, for there was his home.  Thus it happened that he was at the party that escorted king Theoden to his last home. From this point King Elessar turned back, but Galenard continued with the great company that took that way, and was one of those who went with Frodo of the Nine Fingers up until Bree. Galastel and Anardil, though still mourning for the loss of their parents and home, couldn’t but enjoy the trip, for they came to lands they have never seen before, and the people with whom they went were more marvellous still, and no child could long mourning such a situation. Perians and Elves and the White Rider went with them! Once Galastel even dared to speak with the Perian who accompanied Frodo of the Nine Fingers! As for Anardil, he was spending many an hour with the elves.  

From Bree Galenard and the children, with many more Dunedain turned north.  Their task was to rebuild Annuminas, and prepare it to the coming of the King.  They hadn’t heard yet of the evil that was afoot in the Northern Realm, but when that news reached them, it was also their duty to make the roads safe as they had been before.

or the following seven years, Galastel and Anardil lived with the Rangers of the North. They wondered far and wide, from Lake Evendim in the north, to Tharbad in the south, from the Blue Mountains in the west to the eaves of Lothlorien in the east. Most of their nights they spent in the wild, or in inns along the road, for Galenard returned rarely to his house, and that was empty and cold.  Although one could say that the two children were forced on Galenard, he loved them greatly, and made sure that they lacked nothing, physically or spiritually.  It was Galenard who, during their long wanderings, taught them all the skills that one might need in the wild, as well as the basics of the Sindarin and Quenya languages.  Galastel was always better than Anardil at these studies, for Laurenel had begun teaching her these ancient tongues at home, while Galenard, although he taught them lovingly, wasn’t the best teacher of languages.  Yet, it was Anardil who used what knowledge he had more often, for he wasn’t shy of the mistakes he was making, and thus, in time, he surpassed his sister in knowledge of the ancient tongue. 

Galenard’s preferred weapon was the sword, and it was therefore the use of the sword that he taught first the children.  Teaching a girl the art of swordplay wasn’t at that time a very common practice, but a girl who spent her days wandering in the wild had to be able to fight.  And indeed, it had ever been Galastel’s desire to learn the various arts of warfare, for ever she had desired to follow her father’s footsteps.  But with that weapon Anardil was always stronger, though his actual skill did not surpass hers, and in any playful fight with him she had to employ all her speed and agility to win.  But at that time swordplay wasn’t the greatest skill of any of them, though more than once they had to use this skill in real battle, for the North wasn’t yet clear of enemies.  Anardil was an excellent tactician, and few men dared to play chess with him.  Galastel, on the other hand, had great knowledge, love and understanding of all the living things - birds, beasts and plants, and ever she saw the beauty of the nature around her.  And in healing also she showed some skill; she was far more attentive than her young brother when Galenard explained anything of the correct way to bind a wound or to avoid injury, or when he spoke of the qualities of some healing plant.

At times Elladan and Elrohir joined the wondering companies of rangers.  Like everyone else, they liked the children, for they were charming, as any young folk who aren't bored enough to be naughty.  Elladan used to tell them stories of the past, of the heroic deeds of the first age, while Elrohir taught them to sing and play the harp.  It was he who taught Galastel to dance (or rather exalted her skill, for the girl had learnt much from her mother also, who had won renown on many a ball in her time).  He also tried to teach her to play the flute, but though Galastel tried hard to acquire the skill, she had no success in it.  It wasn’t until many years later that she learnt to play this instrument in a passable way.  The children were always excited to meet the sons of Elrond, and grieved at every parting, but Elladan and Elrohir couldn’t spend all their days wandering, for they were now Lords of Imladris, neither did their path always lie together with Galenard’s. 

lthough the life with Galenard was pleasant, for the man loved the children dearly, and most certainly the life in the wild couldn’t be called boring, nor did the children shun its hardships, Galastel ever yearned for her home, for the White City.  The life in the wild seemed too quiet to her, and the court at Annuminas was empty too often.  Often, especially in the first years of her life in the North, she lacked company of friends, and ever – the bustle of city life.  Thus, on her seventeenth birthday,

Galenard gave her a sword - Hirilmegil, and with it the permission to go.  This sword had belonged once to his mother, though she hadn’t used it, and then to his sister, who had died in battle several years prior, being but 21.  The meaning of its name was “Ladyblade”, and it had passed in the family from generation to generation, from mother to daughter for years uncounted, until at last Galenard passed it to his foster daughter.  This sword was very light, and the sheath was decorated with embossed lilies.  On the following day Galastel said good-bye to her brother and foster father, and set forth on the return journey. 

inas Tirith had changed greatly in the seven years that Galastel was away.  Everything in it looked familiar to the young woman, and yet different. The King, of whom she heard so much in her early childhood, ruled there now, and was loved by all.  Under his reign Gondor was prospering.  Only now did Galastel perceive the hardships of the life in Minas Tirith ere the Enemy was overthrown.  Now children could go out of the gates alone, and lights were ablaze all night.  No fear was left.  Houses that had once stood empty were now populated again.  People from all over Middle-earth were coming to live in Minas Tirith, drawn to the City of the King, fearing not the land in the East.  Minas Tirith had become even more beautiful than it had been before, for elves and dwarves were helping to rebuild it after the wrecking that war had done.  Trees and gardens were planted where once was only sober white stone, and the masonry was varied and beautiful. 

The house Galastel had left so many years ago, still awaited her, for it had been her family’s house for more than three thousand years, and still it belonged to her, though it had been empty for long.  Seven years do not go lightly on an empty house; Galastel found her childhood abode all covered in dust, and desperately needing repairs, but that was soon put right.  It was her home, and it felt as homely as it had ever done.  Passing the familiar doorstep, Galastel felt that after many years of wandering she had returned home at last. 

But the years of childhood that Galastel had spent in this house were gone.  She was a grown-up now.  Above all else she remembered from her childhood days Elphir’s stories, and still they burned like a bright torch in her imagination.  So many times Elphir had spoken of the great honour of being a Ranger.  His words were like a small seed put in fertile soil.  It had grown roots, and became a sapling, and now it was blossoming.  Ere long, Galastel joined the noble league to which her father had once belonged. 

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