It is dark outside. There is an enormous moon in the sky. When she looks up, she is reminded of the beach at night. She can hear the waves tackling the rocky shoreside. She can smell the sea salt forming in the stone. *Why does this remind me of the beach at night?* She thinks to herself. She closes her eyes for a moment and she sees her home, the sunny hills of the west side. Her daydream begins to fade when she hears footsteps approaching. She lowers her gaze to the ground and listens to the stranger's movements.
"Who are you?" He asks softly. He is calm and unsurprised, as if a stranger was the first person he expected to see tonight. She turns around and looks at him and her brow crinkles into thought. She takes a step forward and peers into his face. There is a moment of silence before she speaks.
"I'm... not sure I'm in the right place," she says grimly. She looks at him a moment longer before darting her eyes around the glen beside the river. "Where am I?" She asks.
"You are on the outskirts of Lorien, a breath away from Lady Galadriel's woods," he says. His voice is soft and alluring, the lilt in his accent comparable to that of an English poet's.
As she is listening to his words, he takes a moment to look at her. She wears garments he has never seen before; the pale yellow silk of her blouse and the dark cerulean chiffon of her scarf flutter with the Eastern winds this night. Her hair is a deep shade of chestnut, its length ending in curls of varying degrees. Her eyes are the color of twinkling umber and her lips are rouged to compliment the complexion of her skin. The curves of her face are Elven fair, strikingly beautiful and yet, it is clear that she is a mortal maiden. *Who is this strange creature that stands before me?* He thinks. Never before has he seen anything like her, it is as if she is from... a different place, maybe even a different time. How else could he explain it?
"You are not from here," he says after a period of silence as he sees that she is still in thought, "I know this to be true as I have not yet set eyes on any such person like you before." He smiles as he is also sure that she brings no evil. No enemy of darkness can be this fair. "What is your name, my lady?"
"My name is Tari," she says, her brow furrowing into thought once more. "And you're right," she begins, "I'm not entirely sure of how I got here." She hesitates a moment as she ponders her next realization. "I'm from a completely different place-" She stops suddenly and stares at him, her eyes filling with what appears to be confusion as the seconds pass.
"What is it?" He asks, taking a step closer.
"I-I come from a different time," she says, her voice quivering just a little. She can see the befuddlement washing over him as he ponders her words. She shakes her head and says, "I should be in the year 2011."
"But," he pauses momentarily, "how is that possible?"
"This must be a dream," she says, more to herself than to him. "Who are you?"
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn." He places a hand on his chest and lowers his head in a bow. As he looks up, he sees that she is smiling. He returns her smile.
"You are from a different time," she says wondrously, now grinning. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She takes a step closer and extends a hand to him. He takes a hold of her small hand and places a soft kiss on it.
She smells sweetly of wisteria as he stands inches away from her. There is a moment of silence in the darkness, her hand still secured in his. He looks into her face and a strange feeling overcomes him. It is as if the world has fallen away and his duties are no more. He is reminded of the songs of old, tales of love rediscovered. In the same likeness, there are no words this otherworldly woman can say to the man in front of her. She is overwhelmed with emotions she cannot exact into thoughts. *If this is a dream,* she thinks, *I'll just have to make the most of it.* She commits what she sees before her to memory; the man holding her hand stands at a staggering 6'4, the tensing muscles on his forearms are stained with the residue of a long journey, and his eyes are the color of the tropical sea. The light in his eyes flicker under the moonlight, illuminating the handsomely dark features of his face. She looks into his eyes and there she sees the raging of oceans, waves of fierce sadness and longing washing over their master's shores.
She raises a free hand to his face and lays it there. He closes his eyes as he takes this moment to understand the gesture. As he breathes in the sweet air of this night, he remembers a poem of Elvish origin. He recites this from memory, each syllable as lovely as a country melody:
"A star was bound upon her brows,
A light was on her hair,
As sun upon the golden boughs,
In Lorien the fair."
He opens his eyes and sees that she continues to smile, a carefree spirit never easing into darkness but always bound to the light. Maybe this is the reason he is drawn to her, compelled by her.
"You are lovely," she says softly as her hand falls away. The chill of the night hits his face abruptly and he flinches, his senses made aware of the absence of her touch.
"I don't know what I'm doing here," she says, taking a step back, turning to face the water. She looks up at the sky and marvels at the stars that are gleaming tonight; she can see Sagittarius shoot an invisible arrow at his target as Leo roars magnificently. Never before has she seen a sky like this one, so marvelous in the dark, like a curtain of velvet dotted with gems. He gravitates to where she stands and places himself beside her, and looks up.
"Earendil shines brightest tonight," he says. She looks at him and his eyes direct her gaze to a star that glimmers like a diamond in the backdrop. "I know there is beauty still in this world when I see his light." He looks over at her and notices her quizzical brow. "Tell me, my lady," he begins, "have you anywhere to go?"
"I've just arrived and I'm still not quite sure where I am," she says as she shakes her head in confused exhaustion.
"Then you shall come with me," he says. "You will stay in Lorien for the time." With this, he beckoned for her to follow him into what appeared to be the edge of a dense forest. Before Tari knew, she was in the land of Lady Galadriel the White.
Notes:
Nothing better than being able to sit in a theatre three weeks in a row on a weeknight to watch the extended release. Almost too much of a good thing. I suffered a bit of withdrawal after ROTK ended so as I ogled at the men on the gigantic screen before me, fantasies began unraveling in my head. Some of them vulgar, others romantic. Original female character and all. Though after writing this first scene I didn't expect for it to come out so soft/dreamy. Anyway, thanks for reading.
