The journey was long and despite the wonderful beauty about her, Ithildin found herself growing tired and weary. Haldir allowed her to rest a bit on a dazzling green mound of land. Here, the golden trees, which Ithildin learned were called mallorn trees, formed a great circle like a crown atop the hill and the lush grass was populated with golden, white and pale green flowers.
"Let us rest a bit in Cerin Amroth," said Haldir. For a while, Ithildin laid her head against the cool grass and allowed the fragrant scent of the hill engulf her. Presently, Haldir came by her side. He smiled a little at the beauty of the hill. "Come," he said, reaching for her hand. "I will take you up to the hill and there may you see as much of the splendor of Lórien as your heart desires."
Together, they walked up the Amroth and lo! the view was unlike anything she had ever seen. Vast stretched the lands of the forest and the golden treetops shone and glowed against the dark sky like a ring of gold wreathed in flame. Ithildin looked to the south and fair Lórien grew straight to the horizon. But when she looked east, she noticed a dark, flat land beyond Lórien and though the day was dark, the darkness of that land seemed impenetrable. She shuddered, for looking at it made her feel ill at heart and she was suddenly cold. Haldir noted her gaze.
"The dark land that you see is Southern Mirkwood. Once, before these years, it was as beautiful as its Northern brother, but the dark Lord that shall be unnamed took the land for his own and destroyed it. The magic of those woods was lost to his cruelty and the Elves that once dwelt there are gone. In Lórien, we still sing songs of lament for our lost kindred who fell to the Dark Lord. But that shall not be for long. My heart tells me that something great is going to happen in the next year and the years to come after. I do not know what; but something tells me that the decisions of a few may rule the fate of all Middle-Earth."
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Haldir took her to Caras Galadhon, the home of the Lady of the Wood. News of the mysterious stranger had reached the folk of this city and preparations had been made for her. Ithildin was invited to join the Elves for a late supper and the meal was unlike anything she had ever eaten. There was bread and butter, fruit, and a warm, fragrant drink that was not wine, yet gave her a strength that no wine could ever give. Ithildin ate to her heart's content and still the food never seemed to run out. The Elves were merry and joyous and Ithildin felt soothed by the sound of their clear voices. When the meal was over, the Elves sang many songs in their tongue for times were happy then and the shadow had not yet reached Lothlórien.
Ithildin was content to listen to their songs, but the Elves implored her to join. She protested for she did not know songs of their tongue or of their people. And yet, when she opened her mouth to bid them return to their singing, she found that suddenly she did understand their language and a desire to express it overcame her. Out of her mouth flowed a voice as high and sweet as a nightingale and all the Elves gasped. The song was short, and Ithildin did not understand what she had sung, or where she had learnt the words. When it was over, the Elves applauded and begged for another.
At this moment, Haldir came to her side and whispered to her that it was time to meet the Lady. He did not say a word about her sudden ability to speak his language, but he remained quiet and thoughtful as he led her away. The other Elves cried words of parting to her and Ithildin was sad to leave them. Soon, they reached a hill and upon it, on its southernmost side, stood the largest tree she had seen yet. Its first branches stretched high above into the sky. Indeed, the tree seemed to reach past the sky. Upon its side was a sturdy white ladder and after Haldir had conversed with a guard positioned at its base, he motioned for her to climb up the ladder. Ithildin did so, though it was a trying climb and it was not until she had reached the top that she realized Haldir had not followed her.
She passed many flets and climbed still until the ladder ceased and she stood in front of a house grand and regal. Its walls were green and silver and its roof, a shining gold. Into a room shaped like an oval she entered and in the center rose the mighty trunk of the tree. Seated side by side underneath its shimmering leaves were the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien: Celeborn, whose face showed no age and whose hair was of mighty silver and Galadriel, the Lady of the Wood, who had seen Middle-Earth before the darkness and would see Middle-Earth after the darkness.