In LOTR with Harry Potter system-Chapter 445: High King

The moment Sylas laid eyes upon the sacred white tree, his heart trembled.

This was no ordinary creation.

In his perception, the tree overflowed with boundless vitality, an immense, living force so rich that it surpassed even Sylas himself, Gandalf, and the Lords of the Sea. That inexhaustible life radiated outward, subtly shaping the land around it, filling Tirion upon Túna and the surrounding hills with vigor and renewal.

The Elves who dwelled here were all remarkably healthy, free of sickness and decay. Even mortal visitors, were they to remain for a time, would find their lives lengthened.

Sylas’s gaze sharpened.

For he sensed something more.

This tree possessed will.

Not merely growth, but awareness. It was fitting, then, to think of the tree as she, for her nature was closer to that of the Ainur than to any lesser living thing.

This was no simple imitation of the Two Trees.

This was a living work of Yavanna Kementári, the Giver of Fruits, an echo of divine craftsmanship shaped to endure within Arda.

’So this is the height of a Vala’s art...’ Sylas thought.

To create something approaching the nature of the Ainur themselves, this was a realm of power he could scarcely imagine reaching.

A gentle voice broke his thoughts.

"So you can sense it as well?"

Beneath the white tree stood Galadriel, clad in flowing white robes, her silver-gold hair catching the light. She gazed upward with unmistakable reverence.

"This is Yavanna’s gift to the Noldor," she said softly. "A living symbol of renewal, and a guardian of Valinor’s light. So long as she stands, the memory of the Two Trees will not wholly fade."

Galadriel smiled faintly.

"No matter how many ages pass, I find myself captivated anew each time I behold her."

Then she turned toward Sylas, her keen eyes glinting with insight, and something like amusement.

"Welcome at last to Tirion," she said. "I wondered whether the beauty of Alqualondë had tempted you to linger there forever."

Her gaze lingered on him, studying the subtle distortion about his presence, the faint, unsettling echo of time.

"But it seems your stay bore fruit. You have changed, Sylas. In ways I find... difficult to perceive." 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Sylas, for his part, was equally taken aback.

To his senses, Galadriel’s spirit now shone with an almost unbearable brilliance, like sunlight upon clear water. The weariness of the Ages no longer clung to her. She had crossed a threshold.

She had become something greater than an Elf, though still herself.

"A Maia-like grace," Sylas murmured inwardly.

He bowed slightly.

"Congratulations, Lady Galadriel."

She inclined her head, her smile deepening.

"After all that was endured in Middle-earth," she replied calmly, "this step was long overdue."

Then she turned and gestured for them to follow.

"Come. My father wishes to see you."

Sylas blinked.

Finarfin?

High King of the Noldor in Aman, brother of Fëanor, son of Finwë, and one of the few who had never fallen into pride or rebellion.

Sylas and Arwen followed Galadriel across the marble square, toward the royal halls. Along the way, Elves of many houses bowed respectfully to Galadriel, who returned their greetings with quiet grace.

Only then did Sylas fully grasp her standing.

In Middle-earth, she had been the Lady of Lórien, revered across Elvenkind. In Valinor, she was the daughter of High King Finarfin, Princess of the Noldor, and kin to the greatest of the Eldar.

At last they arrived before the king’s hall.

Finarfin was already waiting.

Beside him stood Elrond, smiling faintly, along with Celeborn, Elladan and Elrohir.

Finarfin wore a crown of gold set with rubies, his long golden hair flowing freely over deep blue robes. His bearing was calm, luminous, and suffused with quiet authority, the authority of one who had endured Ages without losing wisdom or humility.

Looking upon him, Sylas understood at once where Galadriel’s beauty and composure had been born.

His long, golden hair shone softly, catching the ambient light of Valinor.

His appearance carried the grace of the Noldor at their finest, noble yet refined, dignified yet gentle. There was no oppressive majesty about him, only calm authority and a warmth that put others at ease.

"Father," Galadriel said gently, "this is Sylas, the sorcerer who defeated Sauron, and also Arwen’s husband, and the father of Elseth."

Sylas stepped forward and bowed with sincere respect.

"It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty."

This was no ordinary meeting.

Before him stood Finarfin, Galadriel’s father, Arwen’s maternal grandfather, and by kinship, Sylas’s elder. Courtesy alone demanded reverence, but beyond that, Sylas could feel it clearly: the quiet, immense power of one who had endured the Ages without corruption.

Finarfin raised a hand, smiling warmly.

"Welcome, Sylas. There is no need for formality here," he said kindly. "You are Arwen’s husband and Elroth’s father. That makes you family. Treat this place as your home."

His gaze shifted toward Elroth, who stood nearby with barely concealed excitement, and a soft affection flickered in the High King’s eyes.

"You and Elroth have been apart for some time now," Finarfin continued. "You surely have much to speak of. Do not trouble yourself over an old king."

Sylas was momentarily surprised by the ease of his tone, but quickly understood when he saw Galadriel step closer and take her father’s arm, Finarfin’s expression filled with unmistakable fondness.

It was clear: Finarfin dearly loved his only daughter, and by extension, all who belonged to her.

Unlike many rulers of legend, this High King bore neither arrogance nor distance. His presence was like a gentle spring wind, remarkably similar to the sacred white tree in Tirion’s square, a living symbol of Yavanna’s blessing.

Sylas then greeted Elrond, Celeborn, Elladan, Elrohir, and finally his son.

When Sylas’s gaze fell upon Elroth, pride and quiet emotion filled his eyes.

The boy’s posture was steady, his gaze clear and resolute, no longer a child.

Elroth had inherited Sylas’s foundations and Arwen’s grace. In Middle-earth, he had studied under Elrond and Galadriel. After arriving in Valinor, he had first trained beneath the Olwë, mastering navigation and shipbuilding, and forging bonds with the Teleri and the mermaids of the western seas.

Later, while accompanying Arwen on visits to Tirion, Elroth caught the attention of Finarfin himself, and was kept at court to study.

With the alchemical knowledge taught by Sylas, combined with Elven forging arts, Elroth entered the Elven Craftsmen’s Guild, quickly earning recognition as a rising master craftsman.

He introduced refined wand-craft to the Eldar, helped improve the Floo Network, integrated dimensional passage keys, and assisted in stabilizing long-range transit systems connecting Valinor, the western havens, and allied realms.

Under Finarfin’s patronage, these innovations flourished.

At that moment, while Sylas and Finarfin were speaking, the familiar mechanical voice echoed quietly in his mind.

[Hogwarts Marking System: Valinor Location Detected - Tirion.

Do you wish to mark this location?]