The breeze of Lothlorien tickles your skin as you wander into the forest, leaving the fellow presence of your companions. Your feet move in a constant motion of left, right, left, right. The dress billowed behind you as you welcome the night wind.
Your brain was a flurry of thoughts, and unfortunately, not all of them are pleasant. You shivered slightly as you recall the piercing gaze of the Balrog, and remember every second and detail of it. Its flaming angry gaze was still embossed in your mind like a painting, a sorrowing one at that.
The night seems to grow darker and the light seems to grow dimmer as you kept trotting forwards, each step heavier than the last, and each step was full of death of Gandalf still weighs your heart down, and not even the most cheerful music could lift you up. Gandalf was like a mentor to you, more than a mentor really, he was like your father. A father, you've just lost a father.
An uncontrollable stream of tears rushed down your face, and the light that once burned in your eyes vanished. You put one hand over your mouth as you try to prevent a wail from escaping but it was to no avail. A wretched scream erupted from you as you fell to your knees, your legs buckling under the weight of sorrow and depression. The tears rushed in an angry current now, staining and dissolving the invisible mask that you have worn all your life. Pain erupted from the steely expression that you always wore, and for once, you let your guard down.
"My lady?" A tender but masculine voice asked from your left, his tone etched with nothing but worry.
You snapped your head towards the source of the interruption only to be greeted by a pair of solemn and worried gray eyes. You quickly wiped your tears and smoothed your dress as you stood up, ready to welcome the figure that you now recognize as the Marchwarden Haldir.
He was slowly moving towards you, hesitancy filling each step. His eyes never left you as he walks, his piercing gaze still upon you.
You opened your mouth to try to explain your condition, but the words were stuck in your throat and your lips refused to move even a millimeter. You only stared back at him as he approached you, your body also refusing to move, every muscle and nerves frozen in sadness.
A gasp escaped from your mouth as a strong pair of arms suddenly wrapped around you, nestling you in its warmth and pine-like scent. You felt the weight of Haldir's head laid upon your own, his golden hair wrapping your face in its celestial glow.
Trembling, you hesitantly laid your head upon his toned chest, where you could hear the comforting sound of his steady heartbeat. Time seemed to slow as both of you stayed in that place, each taking comfort in the other.
Comfort. That was what you felt, and for the first time since Gandalf's death, you finally saw a flame in the shadows.