Those They Left Behind
Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's characters!
Here is a sad tale of the passing away of a beautiful realm and its people, and of the final sleep of Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar of her people. Here is a story of the departure of a race, and those they left behind. She was the daughter of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell; she was said to have the likeness of Luthien Tinuviel herself, and indeed her story is not unlike hers.
Under the fading branches of Lothlorien's once grand mallorn trees Arwen laid herself down upon Cerin Amroth and succumbed to the Doom of Man. There her body lays still, in a sad grave, once marked by the lingering elven grace of elanor and niphredil, and the fallen mallorn-leaves. Now it is a mound flanked by gray boughs, the last elven mark in the eastern world.
I often go there, to Arwen's grave, and sit upon the now roughened earth, contemplating her sad fate. I bring with me, when I visit, the most beautiful flowers from my garden, knowing that they will never equal the blooms that have long since ceased to thrive in this land. Gracefully, I lay them upon her grave and allow tears for my own heartache to fall upon the dirt. Sitting beside this lonely burial, my eyes often wander to the dark, looming trees in the vicinity. Flashes of their old beauty still resonate in my mind when I come to this place. I look down at my mortal hands, resting on my lap and allow my mind to wander back through the years to the days of my youth, in search of those memories I hold closest to my heart.
I was barely seventeen in those days. It was a dark time, the Shadow in the East was at it's strongest, and a great battle was about to take place on the fields of Pelennor. But my village was small enough, and far enough away from Gondor for me to harbor the illusion of safety; that is, of course, until my father informed me of his immediate departure to aid in the effort against Sauron. I was heartbroken, my mother had been dead for years and my father was all that I had left in this world. I begged him not to go, but he was a man of strong determination, and so he left only two days later, with a number of local men, to go into battle.
The women of the village helped me in many aspects after my father left, offering to help with daily chores and cooking, but ultimately I was on my own. It was this circumstance which led to my adventure.
Father and I would often go into the forest when I was younger and pick berries to make pies and tarts, with this comforting memory in mind I set out one autumn day, into the forest in search of berries, I had never gone into the forest alone, but I decided I was old enough to handle myself. You see, these woods were no ordinary woods. The people of my village were well aware that somewhere deep in the forest lay the elven realm of Lothlorien. Rarely an elf of this realm would pass through our quaint village and everyone around would stare in amazement and fear; these elves were known for their ruthlessness. Yes, they were, like all their kin, good at heart, but they protected their land with fierce loyalty. Any trespasser, no matter how innocent, was seen as a danger to their home. There are many tales of men wandering into the Realm of Lorien, and never returning. However, the outer periphery of the forest was not apart of the elven kingdom and was safe to travel in.
It was four o'clock when I set out from my doorstep. Once I had broken through the trees and into the forest I began to sing softly under my breath and scan the shrubbery for any flashes of color. I commenced collecting berries in a basket I held in the crook of my left elbow and quickly lost track of time. It wasn't until I suddenly realized that I could barely make out the berries I was searching for that it dawned on me how much time had passed. I whipped my head from side to side and came to a second realization, I did not know where I was! I began to panic and sweat gathered on my brow. Getting lost in these woods could be deadly. I turned in a full circle and picked the direction I believed would lead me out of the forest and began walking at a very fast pace. It was not three moments later that I stopped in my tracks at the distinct sound of a bow being drawn.
I stood as still as the trees around me and desperately scanned the darkness for any figure, but my vision was useless. I nearly fell over when the voice spoke to me from the darkness.
"Do you know where you are, trespasser?" a male spoke in Westron.
My voice came up from my throat as a pitiful squeak,"I b-beg your pardon, sir. I did not mean to trespass...but...I simply lost track of the time while collecting-"
"Silence. Your excuses won't save you from your crime. The soil you stand upon is that of the Realm of the Lady of Light," at that phrase I let out a soft, but panicked cry,"none of your kind are permitted here. How do you explain your reason for breaking our laws?"
I stood for a moment at a loss for words, desperately attempting to think of something to say.
"Speak!"
"W-well...as I said, I'm lost...I'm truly sorry for b-breaking your law, but I've never been in the forest alone before and I just...do not know what to do!" I became more hysterical and weepy as I spoke.
Suddenly a form melted out from the darkness and I saw the face of the man speaking to me, his bow was lowered. The first thing I noticed about him was his hair. His long hair fell down over his shoulders and glinted silver in the starlight. It was beautiful. Next, I noticed his eyes, gray steel. They say that a gray-eyed man makes the best marksman, I supposed that he must have been and imagined his talents in weaponry. His face was smooth and flawless, perfectly white, radiating a vibrant glow. He approached me and I realized how tall he was. His form loomed over me, at least a foot taller than myself.
"What is your name?" he asked me.
I blinked and stared up at him for a moment before answering,"M-my name? My name is Edel, daughter of Dindur."
He looked at me then, with a queer expression, and I felt scrutinized beneath his penetrating gaze. He caught my eyes and I tried to keep his gaze, but I quailed and looked away, finding the threatening lines of his bow and arrow hung loosely in his grip. He did something then that changed my life forever after. He reached out his perfectly masculine yet delicate hand and stroked my hair. I looked up, startled, and saw a strange glint in his eyes.
Holding onto a tendril of my hair he spoke, "Never have I seen such a color..."
As a child I was teased incessantly for what my people thought was an abominable head of hair. I was born with the most vibrantly red hair most have ever seen. This elf, as I would later learn, had spent very little time in the lands of Men. He was accustomed to the beautiful golden haired elves of his Realm and the darker haired elves of Mirkwood and Rivendell. I would later learn as well that hair was one of the most coveted marks of beauty among elves.
At his comment my face blushed a red to rival that of my locks. I felt awkward simply standing before him as he admired my hair with his eyes and fingers. I had the compelling urge to break the silence.
"It...it pleases you?"
He turned his gray eyes to mine,"It's...magnificent."
"Th-thank you, sir. M-may I ask what is your name?"
"I am called Haldir."
Our meeting was strange. Haldir did not say much, he simply watched me, but there was something very intimate about the situation. As the darkness of the night grew deeper he offered to escort me to the edge of his Realm and direct me where to go in order to find my way home. When we neared Lorien's border Haldir took my hand in the most infinitesimally gentle grip and asked me to come again to him the next evening. I worried that I would not be able to find him, but he assuaged my fears telling me that all I need do was to lose myself and he would find me.
1: Elanor: A golden, star-shaped flower, with a name meaning sun-star. Sam Gamgee first came across it in Lórien, and named his eldest daughter, Elanor Gardner, from it (Encyclopedia of Arda).
Niphredil: A pale flower that grew among the golden trees of Lórien (Encyclopedia of Arda).
2: Elven attraction to hair: "All the Eldar had beautiful hair (and were especially attracted by hair of exceptional loveliness)"(The Shibboleth of Fëanor, The Peoples of Middle-Earth, HME).
A/N: Please review! Tell me what you think! Love it? Hate it? Should I continue?