Dragon Song

Ilayilia woke to the feeling of sunlight caressing her face and kissing her eyelids. She was aware of the rustling of leaves and hushed voices.

"Welcome back, tithen pin," (little one) a soft voice murmured. Ilayilia opened her eyes and saw a beautiful woman leaning over her. It was an Elf, with long golden hair and bright grey eyes and that same light the Celeborn wore.

"Are you... Galadriel?"

"No," the Elf smiled and moved out of sight. Ilayilia tried to sit up but her vision swam and she sank back onto the pillows. She was in a bed and lying between soft sheets. "My name is Lathien. Galadriel and Celeborn are my parents."

"How did I get here?" There was the sound of water pouring and Lathien passed Ilayilia a cup. The Elf helped her to sit, propping up pillows behind her back.

"Glarlauk brought you," the Elf smiled. Ilayilia took a tentative sip and then suddenly found that she was extremely thirsty. "He was most upset."

"Where is he now?" She drained the cup and passed it back to Lathien.

"He is near," the Elf assured her, filling the cup once more. "Galadriel spoke with him. She will speak to you as well, when you are well enough."

Ilayilia looked around her. Golden light filtered down through the leaves and illuminated the place. She lay in a bed in some sort of loft that was nestled in the trees. Lathien handed her the water again and gestured for her to drink it slowly.

"You should not have run away," Lathien scolded her gently. "You should not have hid your grief so long."

"What happened?"

"It consumed you," the Elf looked troubled as she recalled the state Ilayilia had been in when Agarwaen had given the woman over to her father. "You did not eat, you would not drink, and you could not sleep. Such grief is... terrible to bear."

"But... I've known my brother was dead for years now," Ilayilia argued feebly.

"Then it would be all the more powerful," the Elf told her. "You should rest now. My mother will wish to speak with you soon. Peace." Lathien lay a hand on Ilayilia's brow and the woman felt a dark sleep wash over her senses.

When she next awoke, Glarlauk's head was looming over her. Ilayilia stifled a startled scream as she sat upright. Lathien was there: still or again, the woman could not tell. The dragon was apparently sitting on the ground and looking into the talan.

"Are you better?" he asked, his eyes lavender with concern.

"I think so," she said. The woman noticed that the griffin feathers she had bound upon Glarlauk's brow were gone but before she could inquire why, Lathien shooed the dragon away.

"Galadriel will see you now," the Elf told her. Lathien helped her to get dressed in the blue gown Glarlauk liked so much. Then she led her along a trail of narrow platforms built into the trees and to a resplendent doorway of white wood. Lathien knocked, then departed and left Ilayilia to face the Lady of Light alone.

The first thing that struck Ilayilia about Galadriel was that she looked very much like her daughter. But there while there was a softness about Galadriel, her grey eyes held sorrow and wisdom that Lathien did not yet know.

"Come in, little Aew," the lady said with a small smile. "It is well to see you awake."

"What happened to me?" Ilayilia asked yet again. Galadriel's smile faded and she looked over the woman with intense scrutiny.

"You fell into shadow," the lady said, her voice distant. "Beyond light and life, beyond care and will. Only one thing kept you from the Halls of Mandos..."

"What is that?" Ilayilia asked when Galadriel paused, her eyes fixed on something the woman could not see.

"You have a task to complete," the Elf said, coming back to the present and glancing over at Ilayilia.

"To heal the earth, you mean?" Galadriel moved forward and placed a hand on Ilayilia's heart.

"To heal this," she said. "Mother, brother, father, husband, son. You have lost much, little Aew. Elrond looked into your future and he saw you mending the wounds of Arda, but will you lose yourself along the way?" Ilayilia turned her head away, trying to dispel the tears pricking at her eyes, but Galadriel grabbed her chin firmly and lifted her head. "Tears are no evil, child. When the soul is hurt, weeping is its way of recovering."

So Ilayilia cried, letting forth the well of her grief and sorrow. Galadriel took the woman into her arms when Ilayilia began to feel that her very tears would wash her away.

"I've lost everyone!" she sobbed. "Everything I ever loved!"

"I can still see hope," Galadriel soothed.

"Then I am blind to it," Ilayilia trembled in the Lady's arms. "How can there be hope?"

"The Moramlug Glarlauk," Galadriel told her. The woman pulled away, wiping away the last tears.

"He does not love me," she argued. "Nor I him."

"I think if you had seen the dragon when he first brought you to Celeborn," the Elf argued. "You would not say such."

Ilayilia's bare feet scuffed over the forest floor. Glarlauk sat at the edge of a pool of clear water. She came near and sat on the ground beside him, leaning against his warm scales.

"You worried me," the dragon chastised her.

"I'm sorry," the woman apologized in a small voice. "I don't know what came over me..."

"Hmph," Glarlauk rustled his wings. "Just don't do it again."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"On a griffin." The dragon seemed satisfied by this and he let the lavender in his eyes fade into a contented gold.

"You know, you've sung for me many times, but I've never sung for you," Glarlauk remarked.

"I didn't know you could sing," Ilayilia said, surprised.

"Well, it's different than you," the dragon admitted modestly. "Go and bring me a piece of wood and I'll show you how." Ilayilia went around the edge of the pool, and brought back the slender branch of a mallorn tree.

"Will this do?" she asked, laying it in front of the dragon. He picked it up delicately and examined it.

"Yes, this will be fine," he told her. Ilayilia sat beside Glarlauk as the dragon closed his eyes and began to sway his head slight.

He had been right: for the dragon did not sing with words as humans did, but with a ringing whistle that grew and then faded into a tumbling hum. But in that haunting melody, Ilayilia could almost hear the thunder and whisper of words:

"When gripping grief the heart doth wound, and doleful dumps the mind oppresses,

then music, with her silver sound, with speedy help doth lend redress."

And as the dragon sang, the wood began to twist and form. His music carved it and smoothed its surfaces, so that while wind disturbs smooth water his voice was like a wind that calms the ruffled surface.

The wood began to mold and take a form. It was slender and smooth, tapering at one end so that when Glarlauk finished, the wood formed a seamless horn.

Ilayilia picked up the horn and marveled over it. The wider end was in the form of a pony's head, its mouth open in a soundless call and its mane swirling back.

"Try it," Glarlauk encouraged her. Ilayilia put her lips to the mouthpiece and blew softly. To her surprise, it was not music that came forth, but the soft braying of horses.

"This is magic!" she whispered, staring at the horn and the dragon who sang it into being.

"Perhaps," Glarlauk shrugged his wings elegantly. "Perhaps the dragons have not forgotten everything."

"Thank you, my friend," Ilayilia told him. The dragon looked down at her, his eyes molten gold.

"You are welcome... my friend."

A/N: Can someone tell me where the words of Glarlauk's song come from? Here's a hint: it's Shakespeare!