In Valinor, the morning began like any other, with a gentle breeze dancing through the tall trees and the golden sun of Laurelin illuminating the immortal lands with its warm, soft light. The mountains, majestic and full of wisdom. The peace was almost palpable, as if the entire world held its breath before an imminent event, something that had not yet happened, but was about to bloom, like a flower that opens with the arrival of light.
In a house surrounded by gardens tended with love and dedication, Írien sat by the window. The golden glow of the sky bathed her serene face, while her hands rested on her belly. The previous days had been peaceful, marked only by the singing of birds and the company of her husband, Lenwë, who was now returning from the orchard to accompany his wife.
"The morning is particularly bright," she commented, entering the room with a discreet smile, her face still marked by the morning breeze. Írien nodded with a warm expression, looking at him with a tenderness that denoted many years of deep affection.
"Everything seems brighter today... as if Valinor itself awaits something special," he said, his gaze gently descending to her belly.
Lenwë approached and knelt beside her, resting his forehead reverently in her lap. He didn't usually speak much, but in his silence lay an immense love and a serene wisdom that only years and a connection to the land could bestow.
"Do you feel something?" he asked quietly.
Írien nodded slightly, as if he didn't need words to express what his heart already knew.
"Yes. It's near."
Outside, the trees whispered, and the sky seemed to stretch out with a softer light than usual. As if the entire world of the immortals had turned upside down in that instant.
Not far away, in another house equally serene and bathed in the same golden light, Eärwen, Finarfin's wife, rested in a bed surrounded by pale, perfumed fabrics. Her eyes, though marked by fatigue, shone with a mixture of emotion and anticipation.
Finarfin walked calmly down the hall. He was an elf of noble bearing and a firm yet gentle expression, with a tenderness he rarely displayed, more approachable. His hands trembled slightly, and his voice, though measured, revealed emotion.
"Do you think it will be soon?" he asked, sitting next to her, gently taking her hand.
"Yes," Eärwen replied gently. "She is near too. I feel her light, small, bright... still faceless, but so strong."
Finarfin remained silent, contemplating the quiet room. There was something in the air, something that seemed... synchronized. As if fate were weaving two invisible threads in parallel, ready to intertwine even before they opened their eyes for the first time.
In Írien and Lenwë's house, the atmosphere became even more serene. The birdsong softened, the air seemed to hold a sigh, and in that instant, he came into the world.
There was no great roar, no ceremonial chanting. Only a delicate and natural silence, like the sound of water sliding between stones, like a flame that ignites in the darkness without disturbing it. The boy opened his eyes for the first time, and the first thing he saw was his mother's smile, warm and radiant, as if it were the light that had guided him from the womb.
Lenwë embraced her son with the same gentleness with which she treated the flowers in the garden. Her usually serene eyes moistened slightly. Not out of worry, but out of a deep and serene joy. She said nothing, just looked at him for a long time, while Írien caressed the child's forehead with absolute tenderness.
"Annarrgeal," she said aloud for the first time, naming him. "You will be light... in this world."
That same morning, under the same gentle breeze and the golden skies of Valinor, she too was born. In Eärwen's arms, the child lay with a serenity that seemed ancestral, as if she already knew the beauty of the world. Finarfin, at her side, gazed in wonder at his daughter's open eyes, clear as the reflection of stars in water.
"Galadriel...?" Eärwen whispered, more as a certainty than a question.
"Yes. That shall be her name," Finarfin said with gentle firmness, as if the name existed before it was spoken.
Both houses, though separated by fields and gardens, seemed connected that morning by an invisible bond. Two new lights had been lit in Valinor. Neither of their parents yet knew how their lives would intertwine, nor the weight of the paths they would travel. But in that moment, all that mattered was the calmness of their breathing and the warmth of the love that surrounded them.
In Valinor, time mattered nothing. And so, Annarrgeal and Galadriel's childhood began amidst the light, in a world that had not yet known shadow.