"Before the gates of Valmar stood the two trees, one which gave off a silver glow, and one that gave gold, on a green mound. The light of these trees shone in Aman in ancient times, long before the moon and the sun." Haldir pointed to the word next to the golden tree on the page.
Squinting as he studied the picture, Gimlin sounded out, "Laur-e-lin."
"Very good," said Haldir, moving his finger below the letters next to the white tree.
"Tel-per-i-on."
"And this one?" On the bottom of the page, under the green mound was another word.
Gimlin frowned. "I don't recall seeing that before."
"Sound it out," prompted Haldir.
Gimlin propped his elbows on his knees and let his cheeks rest on his hands as he studied the word. He was sitting on his father's lap in front of a campfire, waiting for dinner to be done. He loved camping with his parents and his Gran'papa, and he loved sitting at the fire listening to his father tell him stories. He didn't like it so much when he didn't know what the words in the books were. "This is a hard one, Papa."
"You can do it," prodded Haldir. "You've said it before; you'll know it when you hear it."
Gimlin looked even more discouraged and looked across the fire to his mother. Elodien smiled back, turned the fish that were cooking over the fire, and walked away to gather the rest of the family, lest she be drawn to telling Gimlin the word.
"Papa, I want to read the horse story now," he said, reaching for the top book on a pile next to them.
"You know the entire horse story by heart," chuckled Haldir. "Don't you want to learn anything new?"
"I suppose," answered Gimlin. He looked at the page, at the word his father was still patiently pointing to. "Coro- Co- Cor-ol-lai-rė."
"Excellent!" Haldir rewarded Gimlin with a kiss on the top of his head and turned the page. "Sadly, the two trees no longer grow atop the green mound-"
"That's sad," sighed Gimlin.
"It's very sad," nodded Haldir. He held the book with one hand and snaked his other arm around Gimlin's waist, pulling him closer. "Sadly, the two trees no longer grow atop the green mound, but in the sky, you can find their final fruit and flower. From the white tree, one last flower bloomed and became the moon. The tree of gold bore one final fruit, to be sent into the sky as the sun."
"Isil," said Gimlin, pointing with his own finger to the word next to the moon. "And Anar."
"And dinner," announced Legolas, sitting down next to Haldir as he began to remove the sticks that held the fish across the fire.
"We're not done yet!" exclaimed Gimlin, clutching the sides of the book, just in case anyone tried to close it.
"We have one page left," said Haldir, pulling Gimlin's hands away from the book. He gave Legolas a sideways glance.
Legolas ruffled Gimlin's curls and said, "The fish will have to cool a minute, but you had best be quick, or else they'll be too cold to eat."
Gimlin nodded, turned over the next page, and folded his hands in his lap.
"The sun and moon are steered over the sky by Maiar who were appointed to the task," read Haldir from the last pages. "It is a fire-spirit in the form of a flame who takes the sun across the sky each day, and one of Oromė's hunters who leads the moon along a wayward path each night. High above, outshining them both, is the star of the morning and evening, set on the brow of the sailor of the sky."
Looking at the pictures, Gimlin sounded out "Arien" and "Tilion", but had no trouble saying the name of "Eärendil" when he came to it.
"That's Gran'papa's daddy," he added, rubbing the picture with his finger.
Haldir nodded. "Yes, it is."
Gimlin was quiet as Legolas began to pull the fish from the branches they had been speared on, placing them on plates. The elfling stared at the picture, keeping his hand on it even when Haldir made an attempt to close the book. "Does Gran'papa ever get to see him?"
"He sees him all the time," said Haldir, pointing into the hazy sky. The moon was just beginning to appear, and the sun had set, her light barely visible over the trees. Above them both was a bright spot of light, twinkling in the heavens. "Every time he looks up, he can see his daddy."
"No. Does he get to see him? You know…"
"I know. No, his daddy has a very important job to do. He has to stay up in the sky."
"He never gets to come down?"
"No," said Haldir sadly. "He never gets to come down."
Gimlin stared up into the heavens. "That's sad," he said.
"Yes," agreed Haldir. "That's very sad."
"No, it isn't," disagreed another. Both Gimlin and Haldir looked up to find Elrond standing behind them. He smiled and sat down, sliding the book from Haldir's hands into his own. "My father made a choice difficult for him. He chose to be counted among the elves, as did my mother. Although this ultimately led to their fate, had they not done so, I would likely not have chosen as I had. If that had happened, then Arwen would not have been born, she would not have had children, and my dear Gimlin, we would not be speaking right now. It is not a sad thing, to look into the heavens and see the star that shines so bright," remarked Elrond, looking at the watercolor image on the page. "Think how proud I am, to tell those who look above, 'That is my Ada, the brightest star in the heavens'."
Gimlin tilted his head back and studied the glowing speck. "That is my Great-great-grandfather, the brightest star in the heavens," said Gimlin proudly.
And the star seemed to flash for a moment, as if it had winked down at him.
