“Do you know the meaning of her name?”
Galadriel asked, breaking the silence. I nodded, as it would seem Legolas was not paying attention. Only looking towards where Vanya had been taken.
I answered which could not be more true. Vanya was quite beautiful. Long black hair, dark as night, a bit unusual for an elf. Big blue eyes, the color of the sea. Elegant features and a perfect body. I dared say she was as beautiful as the lady of the woods.
Galadriel nodded to my translation.
“Her name is a play with words. Vanya Serke Halda, beautiful blood hidden. Beautiful being a referral as to when she was born. The most beautiful child I had ever seen. And blood hidden, actually being hidden blood. To hide her lineage I gave her no last name as there were no parents to speak off.”
Galadriel told us, revealing she had been there, when Vanya had been born. Legolas looked up; the conversation had caught his interest. Galadriel shook her head in sorrow.
“Her mother was so young, an orphan I had taken in after her parents were killed in an accident.”
Her eyes had filled with sorrow.
“She came to me, after the death of Vanya’s father, revealing her pregnancy. She was by nature weak; the death of the parents had left her so. I tried to help her, keep her in bed. I did everything I could, but she was too weak. She died before being able to give Vanya a name. So I did, and send her away with my most trusted servant to hide her.”
Galadriel told, and once more shook her head.
“I thought I had lost her, when I heard nothing for months. Just by coincidence, I learned that she had survived an orc-attack and were now living in the Woodland realm. I wanted her returned to me. But Gandalf convinced me to let her stay, to keep her safe.”
Galadriel ended her story, once more shaking her head. I could imaging the shock she must have felt, seeing Vanya here.
“If, as you say, Vanya’s mother was a mere orphan, why the need to hide her?”
Legolas asked, his elven mind way ahead of mine.
“Because of her father.”
Galadriel answered Legolas, and looked at me.
“Her father was Arathorn, son off Arador. Your father, Aragorn.”
Her words were like a punch in my face. My father had fathered another child with a woman that was not my mother. Vanya was my half-sister. I sat down on a root, still not quite sure of how to handle her words.
“I can offer you no comfort; only tell you that he did not know about the pregnancy. It was a mistake, Aragorn. One that you now have to live with, as she is your sister. Should you fall, Vanya is the heir to the throne off Gondor.”
Galadriel told me. I placed my head in my hands, not knowing what to do. I had learned I had a sister, an elf and she could be dying, as we were speaking.