Chapter Fourteen – Leaving Lórien
As Aragorn had advised, the following day was spent in solemn preparation. I gathered my assorted weapons and cleaned them of grime alongside Gimli in the pavilion, who was lovingly wiping down his axe. He was mostly silent, although murmuring to himself once and awhile in Dwarfish. I caught a few words, and could only guess that he was reciting his own war prayers. Once his axe was cleansed to perfection, he stood, looking down at my own glimmering blade.
He shook his head, "I do not know how you could wield an awkward contraption like that all the time. It does not seem very strong." Gimli hefted his axe proudly, "Feel this, lass. It is heavy and full of strength!"
I stood, rolling my stiff neck to the side. Taking the axe from his hands, I was surprised by its true heaviness. I turned it over in my hands, admiring the foreign writing alongside the blade.
"And I do not know how you wield such a heavy contraption," I said with a smile, returning his axe, "My arms would fall off after only a few moments." I watched him swing the axe in a small arc, respecting the strength and endurance it took to wield.
Gimli threw his head back and laughed. "It is no small matter to swing about, lass, no no! But I would never wield anything else."
He glanced at me again, watching me crouch next to my sword and resume cleaning.
"Your swords a shorter and wider than most, are they not?" I asked, and the Dwarf grinned.
"Aye, short and wide like us!" he cried, but then he grew more serious. "Some are known to wield swords, but most of us Dwarves enjoy a good, solid axe."
I nodded, lifting my sword up for appraisal. It appeared practically new, although I had been travelling and fighting with the sword since I was nineteen. However, its history went far beyond me...It had been given to me by a Dunedain chief, Rogan, who was said to have known my family. The sword, he said, had belonged to my mother's mother, who had fought in a great many battles for the Dunedain people. I then traded my old sword, a standard model, for a new tunic.
The new sword was Elven made, and the writing etched along the blade itself was an ancient form of Elfish. It was a simple style compared to some Elven swords I had seen, but it was still quite beautiful and elegant, for an item of war. Gandalf had looked at the sword, shaking his head with an unreadable expression on his face. He told me it was likely forged at the beginning of the Second Age, but he never translated the text upon the blade.
"Is that a family blade?" Gimli asked, startling me out of my memories. I nodded, brushing my fingers of the slender hilt.
"It is," I said, and then I stood, holding out the sword to him. "Here, feel its lightness."
It was rather amusing to watch the look of bewilderment as the Dwarf took the blade into his hands, handling it as though he had never seen one before. He muttered to himself in Dwarfish again, backing away to give the sword a small experimental swing. The tip cut into the grass, becoming wedged. Gimli jumped back in a comical fright, the sword dragging back with him. I laughed at his wide eyed expression as he looked down at the sword again.
"Well, now, it is good that I am not fighting with this. It is too long for someone of my stature," he said gruffly, handing back my blade. I just smiled, crouching down to wipe down my remaining dagger. He sat down nearby, seemingly deep in thought.
Then he spoke, startling me by the intensity behind his words, "Let me see that blade again, lass,"
Slowly, I passed my sword into his awaiting hands. I watched his eyes scan the etching on the blade, and then he frowned deeply. "This is Dwarfish," he said, looking up at me with open curiosity.
I gaped at him. "I had assumed the blade was Elven made,"
We shared a moment of mutual shock.
"This is no Elven blade. It reads here..." he trailed off, clearing his throat, "Fear not, child of light, for even in the darkest times...there is always hope."
Gimli glanced at me, taking in my likely stupefied expression. I swallowed thickly, "I have never known what it read, but now..." I shook my head, "What can it mean?"
The Dwarf handed me my sword carefully after casting his eyes over the text one last time. "I suppose you will discover this at a later date, if you are meant to know," Gimli said, and then he chuckled, "It is a strange and powerful thing you have come to possess, and no mistake! You are certainly full of mystery,"
I shook my head, lost in thought as I turned over possible meanings of the etching...
After luncheon, Aragorn took Ehlon to the nearby training grounds. I followed along, leaving behind the Hobbits as they muttered over what food they should take with them the next day. The two Rangers faced each other in the circle, touching blades as was the custom before a spar. I watched for an hour as Aragorn pressed Ehlon's endurance, and I kept a strict eye on her expressions to be sure she wasn't in pain. She appeared completely well, and my concern turned to admiration and respect as I followed her quick, graceful movements. Glad was I that I wouldn't be her foe!
Finally, after neither could properly win over the other, Aragorn called for a halt. His ruggedly handsome face shone with sweat beneath the sun, and he laughed when Ehlon teased him for being an "old man". He leaned on his sword, the tip burying into the dirt. I realized this was the most carefree I had seen him since Rivendell, and I wondered if any of us would ever feel so lighthearted again...
When nightfall came and the sunsets beautiful hues had faded from the sky, I was feeling restless. The Hobbits were sleeping peacefully in the pavilion, and Boromir, Legolas, Ehlon, and Aragorn spoke in hushed tones of the upcoming journey. I rose from my bed roll, escaping out of the pavilion without the others notice. Something was tugging at me, but I could not place it. The stars and silver crescent moon were in the ebony sky, and I began to walk aimlessly.
I listened to the Elves singing and laughter, feeling that age-old connection to safe havens like these. It was always difficult to leave them. I sighed, continuing on down a path I had not taken before. My agitation grew with each step I took, and although I was weary, I did not stop walking. Almost as though I knew all along where my feet were taking me, I did not even gasp when Lady Galadriel's magnificent garden came into view. The ferns and flowering bushes here were thick, and the great tree trunks were covered in moss. I rounded a corner, watching the path decline into a slight ravine. A small creek flowed nearby, and its music joined the whispers of wind in the trees and the voices of the Elves.
Overwhelmed by the beauty of it all, I stopped in the middle of the path. At that moment, I vowed I would never forget the scene. I never did. Still gazing in awe up at the trees and sky, I was startled by a familiar, melodious voice.
"I had hoped I would see you alone before you left Lórien," it murmured, and I whirled around to face Lady Galadriel. My staggering heartbeat levelled, and I smiled at her, dipping into a bow.
"My Lady," I greeted her simply, for all my stores of eloquence had evaporated upon seeing her. The moon brought out the gold in her long hair and the white in her alabaster skin, but there were shadows over her face, making her appear more mysterious than ever.
She gazed at me for a long moment, and I felt a power probing at my mind. Relaxing my guard, I allowed her to see into my mind. I watched her sift through my memories at an astonishing speed, and once she had retreated, I felt slightly faint from the experience. She smiled sadly.
"You are young to see all that you have," she said, stepping closer. I felt as though I had been turned to stone, and I could not have moved even if I wanted to. It was not as though her presence was frightening, it was merely disconcerting. Finally, once she was merely an arm's length away, she stopped. Just as literature had attempted to describe for centuries, her beauty was beyond imagination.
"I believe you know why you are here," Lady Galadriel whispered. I sighed, feeling my tenseness ebb as warmth flowed over me.
"You drew me," I said, more to myself than to her. I felt entirely relaxed now, an abrupt change from moments before. It was as though I were in a dream. I had never felt more peaceful in my life.
She smiled, "I did."
Suddenly, a vision of Frodo and Sam standing in this garden flashed across my mind, and I gasped. "You summoned Frodo as well."
Lady Galadriel nodded, never moving her eyes away from mine. "Yes, Amira, he and his companion were here a few hours ago. They looked into the Mirror and saw what is to come..." she trailed off, her voice sounding in my mind.
And you would see what is to come as well, if you wished to see it.
My dreamlike relaxation ceased, and I stepped backward in surprise. My eyes fell to the earth. What was she offering me? Cautiously, I looked into her eyes again; they gave nothing away. And yet, I had a strong feeling that something had transpired between she and Frodo.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "M-my apologies, my Lady, but I do not know why you offer this to me," I stammered. I watched a small flicker of unreadable expression pass across her arresting eyes. And then she sighed.
"You are perceptive indeed," she murmured, and I had to look away from her piercing gaze. It was as though she could see into my very soul, extracting every thought or feeling that had ever lain there.
I frowned, still confused. "And what would I do with this knowledge, my Lady?"
"It would help you understand," she answered cryptically. Somehow, her evasive responses were reminding me of Gandalf, and a jolt of pain went through me at the thought.
In the silence after her words I met her eyes again. We watched each other like two opponents waiting for the other to make their first move. Finally, Lady Galadriel laughed musically.
"You do not need to fear or doubt my character, young one," she said, lifting her hand toward me. I hesitated, seeing the moonlight flicker over her Ring of Power. "Come with me for a moment," she prompted, and I finally took her hand. An immediate sensation of warmth flowed through me, and my body relaxed once again.
Slowly, she led me into the ravine where a shimmering pedestal sat, surrounded by the giant trees. She dropped my hand, turning to face me.
"I only offer you the choice," she intoned, and I wondered why I had ever been afraid to trust her. This was Lady Arwen's grandmother, the Lady of the Wood!
"I am sorry," I whispered, shaking my head and lowering my eyes in shame.
Her fingers touched my forehead, and my eyes snapped up to hers. "I understand," Lady Galadriel returned, but her voice held sadness.
I took a deep breath when her hand retreated. "My Lady, what would you advise I do?"
She shook her golden head, a smile forming on her lips. "I cannot say," she said quietly. "Only you can know."
I nodded, "If you still make the gracious offer, my Lady, I will look." To my shame, my voice had a tremble to it. Was I truly so fearful of the future?
Leading me to the pedestal, she warned me not to touch the water. Then she stepped back, watching with those knowing eyes. Forcing away my indecisiveness and fear, I looked into the waters.
At first, all I saw was a reflection of the starry sky above us, but then the image began to change...I saw Isengard, taken over by Saruman, and an army of Orcs chopping down tree after tree for their fires. Saruman himself stood upon one of the two towers, his white robes rippling in the wind. He turned toward me, as though sensing my presence. But then the image shifted at a dizzying speed. The scene was now by the sea, and a large boat was being boarded by hundreds of elves. One of them looked up, and their hood fell back, revealing an achingly familiar face. It was Arwen Undómiel, sailing to the Undying Lands! Her eyes filled with tears. The focus shifted to another Elf, who looked directly into my eyes: Lady Galadriel, also setting sail. The water boiled, changing to Minas Tirith lying in ruins, bleeding bodies amid the smoking rubble.
Children and their mothers were being rounded up by Uruk-hai, shuffling with chains on their hands and feet, crying as the bodies of their fallen fathers, brothers, and sons surrounded them. Suddenly Ehlon's face came into view, and she sat upon an ornate throne, her expression hard and forbidding. She then turned to someone I could not see, speaking to them rapidly. She stood, having taken a bow from an assistant. Aiming directly at me, she fired an arrow. Before I could react, the image changed yet again. It was the fields around the Shire that I had seen, but they were burning. Hobbits were being forced to set alight their own fields and houses by armoured Orcs, who flogged them into action with heavy black whips.
And this is when the image changed one last time.
My eyes widened when I saw a figure walking on what seemed like the slopes of Mount Doom, fear overwhelming as the hood fell back to reveal...me. There was a dagger in my hand and a wild expression on my face, which seemed to have aged greatly. In the next second, I watched myself bury the dagger into my heart, crumpling to the ashy ground as the Eye stormed suddenly in the background. The reflection of the stars returned, and I realized I was gripping the sides of the pedestal tightly and my breathing was ragged. I stepped back, feeling weak.
"So now you know," Lady Galadriel whispered almost sympathetically. I met her eyes, struggling to control my shaking hands and staggering heartbeat.
I swallowed back the lump in my throat. "You will sail to the Undying Lands," I said in disbelief, and she nodded. I was confused, for I had been of the understanding that Lady Galadriel had been in exile from the Valar and was not permitted access to those lands. Something must have changed greatly...
And that was when it entered my mind.
"Frodo offered you the Ring," I intoned slowly. I watched her eyes widen slightly before returning to normal.
She murmured something incomprehensible to herself, and then she smiled. "Yes, Frodo offered the One Ring to me, dearest Amira, and it took a great deal of my power to refuse it."
It was as though someone else was speaking through me in those moments. "For you would have become great and terrible," I whispered slowly, and she continued to stare directly into my eyes from across the pedestal.
It was me that looked away now, feeling weary. "What does this all mean, my Lady?" I asked, knowing the answer was not hers to give.
She smiled sadly, "You will find out in time, young one, but for now you should rest. Do not dwell on what you have seen, but remember it for the times when the Ring is at its most powerful."
I nodded, bowing my head. "Thank-you for this honour, Lady Galadriel. I will never forget it."
"Neither shall I," she murmured, surprising me. Then she laughed. "Dearest Amira, now is only the beginning from which you discover the true extent of the magic bestowed by the Valar. You do not underestimate the One Ring, young one, therefore do not underestimate yourself!"
"The Valar?" I asked in confusion, and Lady Galadriel held out her hand, the palm facing me. She nodded before I could word my question, and I stepped forward, laying my palm against hers. Immediately, the warmth of her power washed over me, but it was her eyes that brightened as she smiled.
"Ah, yes," she whispered, "It is very much alive within you now. It will only grow with time..."
She grasped my fingers suddenly in a tight grip, pulling me a step forward. I gasped at her action, but her eyes were alight with intensity far too deep to look upon.
"Magic is killed by doubt and fear, Amira, so keep your hope alive! Do not extinguish it!" Casting me a profound stare, she pulled back, releasing my hand.
I bowed my head, speaking in a trembling voice, "I would have wished to have met you far earlier, my Lady. Middle Earth shall mourn your departure forever."
Lady Galadriel's lips curved into a radiant smile, but she did not speak. She merely stood and looked at me, as though assessing every aspect of my soul. And then she sighed.
"Go now, dearest Amira, but remember my words for I will not speak them again! Find peace in your dreams,"
I bowed deeply to her, touching the earth with my hands. "Goodnight my Lady,"
She merely nodded, her eyes brimming with unreadable emotion and thought as I turned down the path. When I looked back on this moment far later, I would recall the shining tear that fell from the Lady of the Wood's eye, a crystalline orb falling gracefully and softly to the ground. Her mourning had begun as early as that night in Lórien, but the reasons for which I would only begin to understand on my journey that lay ahead...
It was as difficult leaving Lórien as it was leaving Rivendell, and I wondered if I would ever look upon it again (February 16th, TA 3019). Even Aragorn gazed at the scenery with pensiveness as we made our way slowly down the slope toward the Great River Anduin, and only later would I discover that on one of the grassy hills he and Arwen had entrusted their love to each other those years ago. Elves followed us and watched our descent while they sung their achingly beautiful songs. I passed by a familiar face, and when she waved, I could see that it was Bruhnen and her daughter.
"Farewell, Ranger Amira!" she called, "I hope we may meet again!"
Next to her stood the black haired Healer who had attended Ehlon. "May the Valar protect you!" he said as we walked past. I waved goodbye to all three, not sure if I could speak past the lump in my throat.
Suddenly Leirhen ran out from her mother's side, and she tugged on my sleeve. "Will you promise to come back and visit when you have finished your quest?"
Her innocent eyes and hopeful face nearly drew tears to my eyes. I crouched in front of her, "Yes," I said hoarsely, not sure if I was making a promise I couldn't keep. "I will come back."
"Don't let those terrible Orcs hurt you again," she said, and I just smiled. To my surprise, the young Elf wrapped her arms around my neck, and I embraced her tightly in return.
Pulling back, I touched her hair, "Stay strong and hopeful, Leirhen."
Bruhnen came to draw her child into her arms. "Thank-you," she said quietly, and I saw tears swimming in those twinkling eyes.
I looked up to where the others had advanced down the path, and the Elf merely smiled a sad smile. "Go! They await you," she whispered, "May Elbereth light your path!"
Jogging lightly, but with a heavy heart, I caught up with the rest of the Fellowship.
Sam looked at me with a solemn face. "Is it always so difficult to leave a place like this?" he asked quietly, and I sighed, drinking in the majestic trees and song of the Elves.
"Yes, Sam, I think it is," I replied slowly, and he squeezed my hand.
"I may be just a gardener from the Shire, but I think you and I should come back here again when the Ring has been destroyed," he said. His words made me smile, and I realized I had come to like the Hobbit quite a lot.
"I think we should," I agreed, "and you're not just a gardener, Sam, you're a member of the Fellowship."
"And a great friend," a voice added, and I turned to see Frodo slow down to walk with us.
Sam blushed but did not say any more, quickening his steps to join Merry and Pippin. Looking carefully at Frodo, I saw that he appeared far stronger and healthy than I had seen him in a long time. Lórien had done him well, it seemed. Truly, it had done us all well...
I lowered my voice slightly, leaning toward him. "And how are you, Frodo?" He met my eyes, and I knew he instantly understood what I was referring to: the Ring.
"I feel well. It does not weigh on me today," he murmured, "Not like it did on the day of our departure from Rivendell."
"I am glad to hear it," I said sincerely. "The burden you bear is heavy, far heavier than I know."
Frodo smiled a little. "It rests here, but perhaps once outside the borders of Lórien my heart may not be light for long,"
I digested his words for a moment. Finally, I asked the question I had been meaning to voice. "Is there anything I can do to lighten this burden, Frodo? If so, name it and I will gladly do it."
His response was immediate. He halted where the path had narrowed and the trees grew close together. "No!" he whispered, clutching my forearm tightly, "You do not know what you ask! And even if I knew how to lighten the effect of the Ring, I would never ask you to take on what is my duty to carry."
I glanced at his hand holding tightly to my arm, and then back into his eyes. We resumed walking again. "It may be your duty, Frodo, but remember my words when the Ring is at its most powerful," I cautioned, and then a disturbing thought came to mind. "I hope you do not think I desire the Ring, Frodo Baggins!"
To my surprise, the Ringbearer laughed before answering seriously, "Amira, I trust you far more than you seem to think."
I relaxed. "Then may your trust in me never have reason to waver,"
He smiled up at me, "I doubt that will ever occur."
"Even the strongest and most trusted fall, Frodo. If that happens to me, do not hesitate to use your sword against me!" I whispered darkly, and he nodded despite his shock. "Promise me."
"I promise," he acquiesced. I exhaled heavily.
"Good," I muttered, looking away and up into the trees. Belatedly, I realized the Elves had quieted their singing now that we were nearing the shore of the River Anduin. A gentle wind passed through the trees and ruffled my hair, and suddenly a familiar magic was probing at my mind. When I gazed sharply up ahead, I nearly gasped aloud when I saw Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn sitting on a small hill near a stone table amid their attendees. Lady Galadriel gave me a nearly imperceptible nod, and her voice rang in my mind.
The stronger you forge ties with the Ringbearer, the stronger he is but the more are you bound to his fate. Do not forget, dearest Amira, that a time will come for you to rise to your own power!
I nodded slightly in return, understanding her concern and mulling over her cryptic statement.
When the Fellowship halted at the base of the small hill, she rose from the grass and took a cup from a maiden and gave it Celeborn. "Now it is time to drink the cup of farewell," she said, "Drink, lord of the Galadhrim..."
Once the Lord has drunk from the cup, she descended toward us, bidding each of the Fellowship to sip of the contents as well. She turned to me last, and I took a careful sip from the ornately wrought cup, feeling the white mead burn slightly as it trickled down my throat. Handing her the cup, she merely looked into my eyes before gesturing for the Fellowship to ascend to the crest of the hill and sit upon the soft grass.
With the help of her attendees and maidens, we were all served a final meal from where it had sat upon the stone table. The songs of the Elves rose to crescendo as we ate in silence, and it was a moment caught in time like a raindrop freezing into ice. It was as though forevermore we would sit upon that grassy hill together, eating in the presence of the Lord and Lady of the Wood and never needing to leave...
When we had finished our meal, Lady Galadriel stood. Her maidens stood silent around her, and the songs of the distant Elves had since halted entirely. Only the wind and the Great River remained to disturb the silence which had descended.
Lady Galadriel spoke: "Before you go, I have brought in my ship gifts which the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim now offer you in memory of Lothlórien."
"Here is the gift of Celeborn and Galadriel to the leader of your Company," she said to Aragorn, and she gave him a sheath that had been made to fit his sword. A tracery of flowers and leaves wrought of silver and gold were laid over the exterior, and on it Elven runes were set among the small gems. "The blade that is drawn from this sheath shall not be stained or broken even in defeat," she explained, "But is there aught else that you desire of me at our parting? For... it may be that we shall not meet again..."
Aragorn shook his head, a small smile forming at his lips. "Lady, you know all my desire, and long held in keeping the only treasure that I seek. Yet it is not yours to give me, even if you would." Somehow I knew he spoke of Lady Arwen.
"Yet maybe this will lighten your heart," Galadriel said quietly, "for it was left in my care to be given to you, should you pass through this land." She lifted from her lap a stone of green set in a silver brooch shaped like an eagle's outstretched wings. The sunlight flashed upon the clear green stone, as she said: "This stone I gave to Celebrían my daughter, and she to hers; and now it comes to you as a token of hope. In this hour take the name that was foretold for you, Elessar, the Elfstone of the house of Elendil!'
When Aragorn took the gift and pinned it to his tunic, it was as though a transformation had taken place – no more would this Aragorn be a mere Ranger in anyone's eyes. "For the gifts that you have given me I thank you," he said.
The Lady bowed her head, and she turned then to Boromir and to him she gave a belt of gold; and to Merry and Pippin she gave small silver belts, each with a clasp wrought like a golden flower. To Legolas she gave a bow such as the Galadhrim used, longer and stouter than the bows of Mirkwood, and strung with a string of elf-hair. With it went a quiver of arrows.
"For you little gardener and lover of trees," she said when she turned to Sam, "I have only a small gift." With this, she placed a small box of grey wood, engraved with a single silver rune upon the lid. "Here is set G for Galadriel," she said, "but also it may stand for garden in your tongue. In this box there is earth from my orchard, and such blessing as Galadriel has still to bestow is upon it. It will not keep you on your road, nor defend you against any peril; but if you keep it and see your home again at last, then perhaps it may reward you. Though you should find all barren and laid waste, there will be few gardens in Middle-earth that will bloom like your garden, if you sprinkle this earth there. Then you may remember Galadriel, and catch a glimpse far off of Lórien."
Sam's ears went a deep shade of red and he bowed deeply, muttering something beyond my hearing.
"And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?" Lady Galadriel asked as she turned to Gimli.
He shifted beneath her stare. "None, Lady," he answered. "It is enough for me to have seen the Lady of the Galadhrim, and to have heard her gentle words."
The Lady's smile could only be compared to the sun. "Hear all ye Elves!" she cried to those present. "Let none say again that Dwarves are grasping and ungracious! Yet surely, Gimli son of Glóin, you desire something that I could give? Name it, I bid you! You shall not be the only guest without a gift."
His response was stammering as he bowed low before her. "There is nothing, Lady Galadriel. Nothing, unless it might be — unless it is permitted to ask, nay, to name a single strand of your hair, which surpasses the gold of the earth as the stars surpass the gems of the mine. I do not ask for such a gift. But you commanded me to name my desire."
Lord Celeborn gazed at the Dwarf in astonishment, and it was as though time had slowed to a halt as I watched Lady Galadriel's face. The moment passed when her smile remained true.
"It is said that the skill of the Dwarves is in their hands rather than in their tongues," she said, "yet that is not true of Gimli. For none have ever made to me a request so bold and yet so courteous. And how shall I refuse, since I commanded him to speak? But tell me, what would you do with such a gift?"
Gimli looked up sharply, having stared at his boots. "Treasure it, Lady," he answered with growing eloquence and fervour, "in memory of your words to me at our first meeting. And if ever I return to the smithies of my home, it shall be set in imperishable crystal to be an heirloom of my house, and a pledge of good will between the Mountain and the Wood until the end of days."
Unbraiding one of her long golden tresses, she cut off three hairs, laying them in Gimli's hand carefully. I watched as his face took on a mix of shock and reverence.
"These words shall go with the gift" she intoned. "I do not foretell, for all foretelling is now vain: on the one hand lies darkness, and on the other only hope. But if hope should not fail, then I say to you, Gimli son of Glóin, that your hands shall flow with gold, and yet over you gold shall have no dominion."
She then turned to Ehlon, communicating silently before smiling as she formed her next words.
"Lady Ehlon of the Dunedain, wise and strong, you too will not part without a gift! To you I give a ring," Galadriel said quietly, turning over her hand to reveal a plain, silver ring. From where I stood next to Ehlon, I could see Elven runes inscribed upon the surface but they were far too small to be read from my distance. "This is no mere Ring, Lady Ehlon. It is an ancient Ring of protection, and I give it to you now so that you may call on its power whenever you are in need. Call out the name of Elbereth, and help will come to you!"
The Lady took Ehlon's hand, sliding the Ring onto her right ring finger. She grasped the same hand suddenly, and I could sense a mental conversation taking place between the two before she pulled back. Turning to me, her smile faded as her voice entered my mind once more.
We will not meet again, young one. This will be our last farewell!
Her power retreating, she smiled again. "And dearest Amira, Ranger of the Dunedain and close friend of Gandalf the Grey, you will share in Lady Ehlon's gift!" Unfolding her other hand, she revealed a twin of Ehlon's silver ring upon her palm, although its runes were coloured in onyx rather than gold. "This is the sister to Lady Ehlon's ring of protection. Resting over your heart you already bear a gift from my granddaughter, Arwen Undómiel, also of protection, therefore this Ring will not be a duplicate of that power. As a sister to the other, its duty is to protect the wearer of the twin. No matter what consequences, these Rings will find each other always and the wearers will be reunited. This I give to you, dearest Amira!" With this, she gently took my hand and slid the Ring onto my right ring finger.
"And I have one other gift," Lady Galadriel continued, surprising me further when she took a bow from the hands of a nearby maiden. "This bow was made for you in the style and content as in Prince Legolas's bow," she said, placing the bow into my hands, followed by a standard quiver.
I touched the incredibly smooth varnish of the bow, feeling as though I had been given the world. "Hannon le," 'Thank-you' I managed to say, and she gave me one last lingering look before turning to Frodo next to me.
"And you, Ring-bearer,' she said, "I come to you last who are not last in my thoughts. For you I have prepared this." At this, she held up a small crystal phial, glittering beneath the sunlight as she placed the phial in Frodo's trembling hands. "In this phial is caught the light of Eärendil's star, set amid the waters of my fountain. It will shine still brighter when night is about you. May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out. Remember Galadriel and her Mirror!"
The Hobbit bowed lowly, but did not say a word.
Lord Celeborn arose now, and with a small smile he led us away from the grassy hill, Lady Galadriel, and her silent, beautiful maidens.
Stopping by the shore, Lord Celeborn gestured to the graceful boats at the ready. "These will bear you over the Great River as far as you may ride." His attendees were standing knee deep in the water by the bird-like prow of the boats, and they were surprisingly expressionless.
"There are lembas within leather holds of the boats, so if you should ever be wanting of food, the lembas will provide a day's energy for your journey," Lord Celeborn continued, his azure eyes and hair shining beneath the sun. "And these cloaks are for you all -" At this, several other attendees stepped forward with cloaks of a light green. "-if the need is great, the cloaks will change their colour to best hide you from foes, but they will also keep both the cold and heat away if it is extreme."
The green-eyed Elf attending to my cloak smiled when he surveyed his handiwork and stepped back. He bowed his head slightly, and I returned the gesture, amused when his expression turned from initially bewildered to pleased.
"Farewell to you all of the Fellowship!" Lord Celeborn cried as we were helped into the three boats. "You are ever welcome in Lórien. May the Valar protect and watch over you always, and Elbereth light your path!"
With Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam in one boat; Boromir, Legolas, Merry, and Pippin in the other; and Gimli, Ehlon, and I in the third, we pushed off from the shore and floated out to the middle of the Great River Anduin.
When I looked back over the water, I saw that Lady Galadriel and her maidens were there upon the shore. The Lady of the Wood smiled sadly, gesturing to the other Elves before breaking into a heartbreaking and beautiful song. Her eyes remained trained on mine until she became a mere speck on the shore, her power continuing to brush against me when she disappeared from sight altogether. Finally, though, even that receded, and all at once I was back among the Fellowship and our uncertain future...
I took over Gimli's place with the oar a little while later, and Ehlon and I rowed in silence. A moment later, the Dwarf sighed.
"I have looked the last upon that which was fairest. Henceforth I will call nothing fairer unless it be her gift," Gimli murmured before smiling at the memory. "I asked her for one hair from her golden head...She gave me three."
I glanced at Gimli, catching his eye and smiling. The Dwarf sighed, turning to Legolas as he rowed in the nearby boat.
"Tell me, Legolas, why did I come on this Quest? Little did I know where the chief peril lay! Truly Elrond spoke, saying that we could not foresee what we might meet upon our road. Torment in the dark was the danger that I feared, and it did not hold me back. But I would not have come, had I known the danger of light and joy. Now I have taken my worst wound in this parting, even if I were to go this night straight to the Dark Lord. Alas for Gimli son of Glóin!"
"Nay!" Legolas answered. "Alas for us all! And for all that walk the world in these after-days. For such is the way of it: to find and lose, as it seems to those whose boat is on the running stream. But I count you blessed, Gimli son of Glóin: for your loss you suffer of your own free will, and you might have chosen otherwise. But you have not forsaken your companions, and the least reward that you shall have is that the memory of Lothlórien shall remain ever clear and unstained in your heart, and shall neither fade nor grow stale."
"Maybe," Gimli mused, "and I thank you for your words. True words doubtless; yet all such comfort is cold. Memory is not what the heart desires. That is only a mirror, be it clear as Kheled-zâram. Or so says the heart of Gimli the Dwarf. Elves may see things otherwise. Indeed I have heard that for them memory is more like to the waking world than to a dream. Not so for Dwarves."
Then he shook his shaggy head, "But let us talk no more of it. Look to the boat! She is too low in the water with all this baggage... I do not wish to drown my grief in cold water."
Focusing back on my paddling, I watched the clear waters of the river and the trees upon the shore move past. Although I did not understand at that moment, I felt as though we were moving further and further away from anything that would resemble peace and protection, and there was a sinking feeling deep inside my heart that we would not know such things in the coming future. How true my prediction was! But only later would I realize the truth in such a feeling...
As you can see, I have stuck closely to the book in regard to the scene with Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. It just fits, in my opinion. Gimli's line, "She gave me three", has always been a favourite. :) Things are once against pensive in Amira's mind as they leave Lorien, and for good reason, as she is clearly feeling that something is about to happen. Of course, she is right. However, she just doesn't know what as of yet...
The breaking of the Fellowship, as you all know, is bound to happen and will be unfolding in the next two chapters. Those two chapters spell the end of Volume I, with the last chapter totaling approx. 10 000 words.
Stay tuned for the upcoming finale to Volume I. Reviews and comments are always appreciated.