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"Even though I doubt you'll succeed, if you need help, you can come to me.
The Elves in Menegroth have never seen a human before—they may not be as friendly as the Elves outside."
Galadriel gave a slight nod, held her head high, and turned back toward the barrier.
"Follow me. Melian has granted me temporary permission to open the barrier."
George smiled and nodded as well, stepping after Galadriel.
The Noldor Elves had once lived in Valinor, and through the words of the Valar, they had long known that humans were the Secondborn Children of Ilúvatar.
There was even a time, under Morgoth's manipulation, when they believed the Valar had confined the Elves to Valinor just to make room for humankind.
But after learning the truth, and seeing humans freshly born into the world—fragile and inexperienced—the Noldor naturally developed a fondness for them.
They had always treated humans with great kindness, even passing down a vast amount of knowledge.
However, the Grey Elves, aside from Thingol who had once visited Valinor, were all native to Middle-earth and had been isolated from the world outside.
They were aware of humanity as a species, but knew little beyond that.
As such, most Grey Elves did not hold humans in high regard. In their eyes, humans were short-lived and weak.
In the original tale, when Beren and Lúthien fell in love, Thingol fiercely opposed the relationship. To him, Beren, a lowly mortal, was utterly unworthy of his daughter.
To keep them apart, he set an impossible task: Beren could only marry Lúthien if he retrieved a Silmaril from Morgoth's crown in Angband.
It was a test designed to discourage Beren—or to lead him to his death.
That was also why Thingol refused to send troops or allow the Grey Elves to communicate with the Elves in Dorthonion.
He simply did not believe that humans possessed any kind of magic worthy of sharing with the Elves.
After passing through the barrier, George was greeted by a lush, vibrant forest.
Thanks to Melian's divine power, the forest was a place of eternal spring. All sorts of adorable woodland creatures bounded through the trees, unafraid of strangers.
"I'm going to pick up the pace—try to keep up!"
Galadriel leapt onto a tree trunk and dashed forward with incredible speed, gracefully bounding from branch to branch. Despite wearing a long gown, her agility was completely unhindered.
Elves naturally possessed physical capabilities far beyond those of humans. In addition to their mastery of magic and forging, their vision was particularly exceptional—each one was a master archer.
Galadriel bore the bloodlines of three kinds of Elves: the Vanyar, the Noldor, and the Teleri. In all aspects, she excelled. In terms of overall power, she even surpassed her three older brothers.
So the bold words she had spoken earlier weren't just boastful talk.
"Already lost track of him? I thought he'd be more impressive... Guess I'll slow down and wait."
Galadriel had been moving at full speed, but after a while she noticed George was no longer in sight. Assuming he couldn't keep up, she smirked to herself and slowed her pace.
Her two brothers had praised George endlessly when they returned—so much so that she had grown a bit competitive, eager to see what this so-called extraordinary human was truly capable of.
"Princess Galadriel, no need to slow down. I can keep up."
Just then, a voice suddenly came from above her.
Looking up, George's pair of pristine white wings unfolded behind him, and he leisurely floated above her head.
"Y-You... can fly?"
Galadriel stopped, standing on a large tree trunk, her gaze filled with surprise as she looked at George.
Hovering in front of her, George responded, equally surprised:
"Didn't the princes tell you? It's because I can fly that I managed to catch up to assist the great prince."
"Of course they mentioned it, I just forgot."
Galadriel chuckled awkwardly, slightly embarrassed.
"Since you can fly, how about you carry me? I'll guide you, and we'll get there faster."
At the feast held by Thingol, she had overheard her two brothers boast about George's abilities in front of him. She couldn't help but feel a bit rebellious.
She had assumed her brothers were just exaggerating to convince Thingol to send troops, inflating a human's capabilities.
She didn't pay much attention to the conversation and wandered off to play. All she knew was that George had helped humans aid the Elves, ultimately securing the central defense line and driving back Morgoth's army—she didn't know the details.
"It's my honor!"
George lowered his altitude, wrapping his arms around Galadriel's waist, and flew her up over the trees, continuing forward according to her directions.
Galadriel, flying for the first time, felt a rush of excitement. She happily played the role of a guide, helping George gain a deeper understanding of the Grey Elf kingdom.
Galadriel was skilled in magic, but flying wasn't a part of her repertoire.
In Middle-earth, aside from the Valar, Maiar, and a few winged creatures, no other races could fly.
Otherwise, the Noldor wouldn't have slaughtered the Teleri to seize ships and leave Valinor.
Thus, this was Galadriel's first time in the air.
"Wait a moment, fly that way—I think I see Lúthien!"
After about half an hour of flying, a strange city appeared in George's view, nestled in the heart of the forest.
This city was built entirely from living trees, their roots and branches intertwining, covering an area more than ten times the size of Dorthonion's Elven city.
It was the Grey Elves' city—Menegroth.
However, as they neared the city, Galadriel suddenly directed George to change course.
"Lúthien is Thingol's most beloved daughter. If she speaks on your behalf, then it's unlikely we'll convince him to send troops, but having the Grey Elves visit your school to exchange magical knowledge should be more feasible."
Lúthien was Thingol's daughter, which made her Galadriel's aunt. But among Elves, they didn't typically refer to elders as aunts or uncles—they just called them by their names. The relationship between Galadriel and Lúthien felt more like that of close friends than family.
Elves didn't have the constraints of mortal lifespans, so even a thousand years apart didn't make much difference in appearance.
At Galadriel's words, George's mind stirred. He flapped his wings and followed her directions, heading toward the meadow she had pointed out.
In the meadow, a young Elven maiden was dancing gracefully.
Her gown was as blue as a cloudless sky, her eyes gray as stars twinkling at dusk. Her cloak was embroidered with golden flowers, and her hair was as dark as the shadows of evening.
Her radiance and beauty seemed as ethereal as light filtering through leaves, as clear as the sound of flowing water, as dazzling as the stars above a misty world.
In that moment, even George felt a little dazed by her presence.
"There is truly such beauty in the world!"
Galadriel had already struck him as breathtaking, but Lúthien was on an entirely different level.
The most beautiful of all Middle-earth's Elves—undeniably so.
(End of Chapter)