A Walk in Lothlorien
Two figures slowly enter the misty forest, followed by many, many others. Many bear banners and pendants, others guide the horses that carry the frail or very young. Each carries their own weapons, though they are not needed now, it is as a sign of peace that they remain sheathed and slung over shoulder. Only the first two figures remain unarmed and carry nothing save the elegant and rich robes that they wear as a last tribute to their royalty. It is from these two figures that a sense of peace and sadness emanates from foremost. The taller of the figures treads lightly as the slowly wind their way between the trees, her dress barely rustling the leaves as she glides over them.
Time no longer has a meaning for these two figures, for they are leaving these lands, to never return. For the entire length of the journey, whether minutes or days, not a word is spoken, those that follow their mighty rulers are deep within their own thoughts their memories and the tales that have been told of their homeland. As the two figures continue to lead the way through the misty woods they too, are silent, each buried in their own thought. As of one accord they both stop, for there is a slight break in the trees, between the misty forest and one only lit by a distantly sinking sun. The taller figure glances at the other, as if reaffirming their decision. She nods, and they continue on until they reach the very edge of their misty woods where she pauses, and looks back on last time. Still, without a spoken word he reaches for her hand and holds it high as they both turn to face the sea and their true homeland beyond it.
As one of those 'could have been' stories what did you think? I know there's a better word then mist out there to describes the woods, I just can't seem to find it...any ideas?