"There is only one thing I fear in life, my friend: One day, the black will swallow the red." -Mark Rothko
They seemed to run forever and only a moment. For Lyra, getting further away from the mines of Moria was a reward in itself. At the same time, the new knowledge Legolas had given her soured any desire for the Golden Woods ahead and even secured a splinter of fear in her that worked itself deeper and deeper with every step they took.
If what Legolas said was true, would the Lady have her killed on sight? Would she break her mind trying to find whatever secrets were hidden so dark that Lyra herself did not know? Her father would be devastated. Is that why he let her go? Did he know what she was capable of, that the action of killing would one day fill her mind with pleasure instead of disgust? She still remembered the thrill of ecstasy when the orc had fallen to the ground, when his limbs had grown still, when the life had left his body.
So, when they arrived at the border where the empty plain gave away to thick trees, it was with bated breaths that Lyra forced herself to follow the rest of the company into its shade. If not for her promise to Aragorn not to leave him, she would have been tempted to turn around and go back the way she had come. She could always return to Rivendell. At least, she thought she could. Surely her father's love had not grown to hate in such a short amount of time.
Her very thoughts felt poisonous. What is she hurt someone else? Elrohir and Elladan would be the first to go, she realized with horror. How many times had they pushed her to the brink of insanity by their constant teasing?
In a moment of annoyance, would they end up like the orc? No. She shook the thoughts away and eyed Legolas. If that were true, the elf prince would have fallen long ago. Nonetheless, it was disconcerting at best and terrifying at worse that she had no knowledge of command over this strange ability.
The situation all seemed so preposterous that she began to wonder if she had only imagined it. The feeling of Legolas' keen eyes constantly studying her deflated that notion. Despite the beauty of the forest around her, she struggled to find it in her heart to appreciate it. Her home of Rivendell seemed to bring out the most beauty of the land around it. It reminded Lyra of autumn when the land appeared to grow weary, leaving everything in a slight amount of disarray. The pale light seemed to be in a constant state of sunrise or sunset. Everything about Rivendell was fragile and gentle, like the land's last grip on life before it bowed and allowed winter to consume it. Lothlorien's beauty overshadowed everything around it. Even the light of the forest seemed to stem from something other than the sun, trapped above the trees.
"Stay close little hobbits. You too." Gimli nudged Lyra with the butt of his axe. "Thy say a sorceress lives in these woods and all who look upon her fall under her spell."
Legolas stilled, glancing at the branches above them. She had the sinking feeling of being watched but every time she looked up, all that met her eyes was the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.
"Are you listening to me?" Gimli pestered, eying her with something akin to concern.
"What?" she glanced down at him.
"Typical elf." He grumbled. "Paying far too much attention in what happens above your heads. You need to stay grounded." He stomped his foot to prove his point. "Solid earth." He replied with a satisfied grunt.
"I'm sorry. I was just-" she broke off, unwilling to divulge how jittery the forest was making her. "I haven't seen trees like these before." She finished lamely.
"Silly girl." He snorted again. "Well. This is one dwarf she won't ensnare. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."
The archers seemed to appear from the air itself. One second they were alone and the next- they were surrounded, with several tightly notched arrows pointing at each of them. Even the small hobbits were not exempt from their clear warning.
One elf stepped forward, his eyes scanning over the fellowship with the briefest flicker of his blue eyes. He didn't look remotely happy with what he found.
"The dwarf breathed so loud we could have shot him in the dark." His words were forced and practiced, each word drawn out; giving the impression that he did not speak the common language often. Still, he signaled the archers to lower their bows and greeted them with a thin layer of civility.
Aragorn gave the elf a small nod of his head in greeting. "Haldir, I suspected you would be the one patrolling." It was impossible to tell if Aragorn was relieved or not by this fact. The two spoke in fervent whispers with their heads bowed closely together. Aragorn's expression was almost pained and there was a strange glint of desperation in the lines of his body. For his part, Haldir listened, his guarded eyes dancing over each person, studying them with an almost predatory stare.
Legolas was accepted into the small group with seemingly no thought. He was a prince after all. And elves, all except for her, seemed to be drawn towards him, respected him.
Feeling distinctly out of place, Lyra kept close to the hobbits, trying to ignore the curious glances of the elves. A few tried to speak with her but she refused to say more than a few words. It was clear they were wary of her and the reason was also clear- Galadriel had warned her guards to expect them, to expect her. What use was it to banter words with those who already had preconceived notions about her?
"These elves are a little scary-worse even than your brothers." Pippin had stuck close to her side since they had begun walking and now he waved her down to his level and whispered his fear in her ear.
"They won't hurt you Pip. They have no reason to." She tried to soothe the hobbit but the waver in her voice must have given her away.
"And what about you? They won't hurt you either right?" The hobbit had more sense than Lyra had given him credit for, she realized grimly.
"I hope not."
He didn't look particularly pleased by that and wrinkled his nose as if he had caught a bad smell on the air.
"Don't worry Lyra. We'll protect you." He said in a voice so determined that for a moment, Lyra felt some of her fear melt away.
"Okay." She smiled.
"It's time to climb." Haldir said, pointing to the stairs that twirled around the thick trunks until they disappeared in the twinkling canopy overhead. Here, light didn't seem to just shine. It glittered until the darkness faded from black to blue. The night here was softer. Instead of promising danger- like it had in the Mines, it beckoned the weary visitors to lay down their heads and sleep. Still, each of the company carried a piece of something else with them. She imagined the grass under their feet turning black and dry, leaving an ugly trail to prove what they had seen, what they had been through. And they still had so much further to go, Lyra thought with despair. What would their trail to Mordor look like?
And she was just so tired. The important thoughts in her mind had turned into a jumble of confusing emotions. All she was left with was an aching emptiness that reminded her something important had been taken. Gandalf. She closed her eyes against the pain and allowed her mind to wander, away from Lothlorien, away from the towering trees that surrounded her and filled the air with the smell of earth. Her mind wandered back to the jagged entrance of the caves, where everything had looked dark and unfriendly. She wondered what would happen to the body, what had happened already. Would he sit there for years and time would slowly erase all memory of him? Had he fallen into water? Perhaps he was now being swept back and forth by the dark current that ran far beneath the rock. A pang of pain stabbed at her gut at the thought. So wrapped up was she in morbid thoughts-thought that definitely didn't belong in a place like Lothlorien- that she failed to notice they had stopped climbing.
It was almost as if the glow of light around them was a forewarning of their presence, giving the guests time to collect their thoughts. Then Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel descended to meet them. Lyra could almost hear the thoughts chased from everyone's mind.
It wasn't their beauty. Lyra had been surrounded with the beauty of elves her whole life. It was more than that- deeper than that. It was the wealth of shadows they seemed to keep within them while still possessing the light of the stars in their eyes. It was the resilience to the darkness that seemed imbedded in their very nature. She doubted Galadriel had ever entertained the type of thoughts that Lyra would frequently find slipping into her mind.
Lady Galadriel's voice was an enigma. Like everything else about the lady, it was strong. The power of it alone kept the company suspended to a single moment. A few words would send the hardened warriors' eyes down in despair only to glance back up in hope. She gave them hope. And if Lyra had learned anything, it was that hope was a dangerous thing. But it was also impossibly gentle and brushed over every one of Lyra's scrapes and wounds as a soothing balm. It quieted the angry and frightened voices in her head, the voices she had failed to silence for years, ever since her dreams had grown dark. Soon enough, Lyra found herself alone with no whispered insecurities or stubborn complications. And then all at once, she found herself alone with the Lady. She wasn't exactly sure how it happened. She hadn't even been aware of the others being led away. She didn't see Aragorn's hesitance to leave or Legolas pause before hurrying away.
All she knew was the Lady's entire focus was now on her and it filled her with both adrenaline and horror.
"It is time we talked. I confess I have been impatient to meet my granddaughter for some time now." Surprised by her words and gentle manner, Lyra had merely nodded uncertainly before- unable to hold it in any longer- she had addressed the problem that had kept her mind in a whirlwind of doubt and panic for the past several hours.
"You told him to watch me." She said, sounding more like a confession than an accusation.
"Legolas' idea of looking after you was slightly different than what I had intended." She answered, her light voice wry with amusement.
Ah.
"You must forgive him my dear. His father's fears have finally fallen to him." She explained, growing troubled now.
"Fears?" Lyra echoed, trying to imagined a frightened Legolas. It was nearly impossible.
"Evil fights for a foothold in this world once again. Legolas is afraid for his people." The lady explained.
"Do you know everything- that happened I mean?"
Galadriel nodded once. Lyra fought the desire to bury herself under a rock and hide there for years.
"I do." There was not the slightest hint of judgment or reprimand.
"It's not what I did that worries me. I could do the same with a bow or an arrow but it's the way I felt-" she paused to take a deep breath, before forcing the words out of her mouth, the words she knew would make the Lady hate her. "I enjoyed killing it. I wanted it to feel pain-" she broke off, feeling spent with only a few sentences.
"And therein lies your struggle my dear." Even the sound of the water bubbling beside them couldn't be as light as Galadriel's voice, as though her words hadn't pinned Lyra to the floor with heavy weights. She spoke as if her words meant nothing at all, like the slightest breeze could send them tumbling away in the air.
"I still don't understand how or why I have this." Lyra said, hoping for an explanation.
"Even I only hold suspicions and they are not yet ready to be brought to light." Lyra nodded, knowing that no amount of begging or cajoling would make the lady relent. She wasn't even sure she wanted to know.
"Rest assured Lyra that this ability is not a curse. Just like your speed with a sword or your gifted sense, it can benefit you and help protect others."
"When I –did it- I didn't feel like I was protecting anyone. I was just killing." She whispered.
"But you were protecting Legolas." Galadriel smiled, closing her eyes and bringing the memory to mind. She seemed satisfied with it.
"I don't think he appreciated it." Lyra mumbled, worrying the edge of her shirt with her fingers.
She laughed in reply. "Legolas is very young in some ways and ancient in others. It is so for all elves."
"Does it not get lonely for you my Lady, that everyone respects you so? To be the oldest and wisest-" she cut off her wonderings, realizing that it was probably not polite. They had only just met, after all.
Instead of looking offended like Lyra feared, Galadriel seemed surprised, as though no one had ever asked that question of her before.
"Even with my wisdom, you surprise me child. I have my Celeborn and that is all I need. You will see that for yourself one day."
She brought her hands together, all fluid grace that made Lyra feel like a blundering dwarf in comparison. "You are tired. I can feel it. Go and rest child. You have earned it."
"Gimli, could you leave us for a moment?" Lyra froze at Legolas' voice before glancing up at Gimli and softly shaking her head.
Stay, she mouthed.
"Where have you been lad?" Gimli asked gruffly. The elf's bow and arrows were absent but he looked no less deadly and currently, those eyes were fixed on her.
"I was speaking with the Lady." he answered Gimli before turning back to her. Lyra ducked her head and continued to fletch arrows. "I'm trying to apologize." She looked up, at once suspicious of his words.
"Did she yell at you?" Lyra asked instead.
"The Lady of Lorien never yells." At her fallen expression, he pressed, "Are you disappointed?"
"It would have been amusing to picture." She shrugged.
"Lady Galadriel doesn't have to raise her voice to make something feel-less. I've seen the error of my ways." He grit out through clenched teeth.
And?" she pressed after he remained silent for several seconds.
"And I thought I should tell you."
She waited a moment for the rest but Legolas just stood there facing her, as if he were waiting for her to speak.
"You don't do this often do you?" she cocked her head at him.
"Do what?" He echoed.
"Apologize." She smirked.
"Why would you think that?" his hands were behind his back and his posture was perfect but Lyra got the distinct feeling that he might be nervous, or at the very least uncomfortable.
"Because that might have been the worst apology I've ever gotten and that's saying something. I live with Elrohir and Elladan after all."
A wry grin caught at his lips as his shoulders relaxed a little. "What should I do then?" It was the first time he looked at her like she wasn't something to be wary of. He had dimples, she realized with a start. How could that be princely?
"Hmm?" she hummed, shaking her head and returning to her work.
To her surprise, he lowered himself beside her. "Perhaps a favor would earn my forgiveness."
"A favor?" she echoed dubiously.
"A favor from a prince is nothing to snivel at." His tone had changed so drastically that she felt dizzy trying to keep up. Only days before, she felt that the prince hated her and now he spoke to her the way he might a young child.
"I have no use for princes." She paused to consider the offer. "Still, I might have use for your bow and arrow later."
"Is that so missy? At least give me fair warning to leave the room first." Gimli chuckled.
It took her a full minute to realize the double meaning in her words. She turned red and balled her hands into fists. "You have a filthy mind Gimli."
"Come now. You're young. It's natural to have these feelings. At least you're being honest about them." He continued to poke fun, clearly feeling better at her expense.
"Leave her alone Gimli." Legolas warned.
"You don't have to protect me." She shot to her feet, glaring at them both. The embarrassment made her cheeks radiate heat.
"If you hadn't noticed, I was defending my own honor as well." He added through grit teeth.
"Your honor?" Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Well I suppose your honor would be tainted by the thought of-" she broke off, unable to say the words- "with a half elf."
"That has nothing to do with it." He protested, fixing the dwarf with a glare. "This is all your fault."
"Don't blame Gimli." She sniffed, placing her hand on the dwarf's shoulder.
"Forgive me." Legolas said and Lyra could tell how much control it was costing him. "I only meant that-"
"And stop asking forgiveness if you plan on offending someone seconds later."
Gimli's eyes watched their conversation like it was a sword match, occasionally wincing when she blundered over her words.
Legolas put his finger on his forehead and closed his eyes before taking a deep breath. Lyra knew she was being childish but whenever the prince was around, it seemed she had no control over what came out of her mouth. He had made her life miserable since Rivendell. Surely, she was due some opportunity to return the favor.
Finally, he opened his eyes and smirked as though he had thought of the perfect answer.
She interrupted him before he even had the chance to start- "I'm tired. I need some sleep."
She didn't hear Gimli chuckled after she walked away or see the way Legolas' eyes followed her. "You've got a lot to learn about women lad."