Day 29: Something about regrets
Galadriel. Wishing she had done more.
I think Galadriel, while she appreciated where her choices led her and wouldn't really have done much more if she could go back, always wished she had been able to save everyone else; all of her brothers, Celebrian, etc.
(I swear there was a mention of someone clad in Doriath cloaks that blended in or shielded sight or something to that extent in the Silmarillion, but I can't find it now so I may be crazy. Anyway, I keep imagining that Melian taught Galadriel how to make the ones she gave the Fellowship. But there's no reason this couldn't have happened, and I keep imagining that Melian basically taught Galadriel everything, though I'm sure Galadriel came already knowing plenty that the Valar had taught her, and that she was pretty powerful herself too.)
_
prequel:
Artanis had to work hard to contain her excitement while she waited for Melian to answer the door and let her in.
Melian had just offered to start teaching her, and her last two lessons had been full of stories of the Valar in the early days of the creation of Middle-earth, and of practicing mind powers Artanis had never imagined she could wield.
At first Artanis had been apprehensive about being under the tutelage of Melian. She had come to Middle-earth to get away from the Valar, to learn from experience and not their limited teaching, only showing her "what they saw fit" when she knew she was capable of so much more. But Melian had been different.
While Artanis suspected there was plenty Melian was holding back on, she didn't have the air of distance and superiority the Valar over the sea did, and she was willing to teach Artanis plenty worth learning. She couldn't wait to continue with lessons and see what they would be doing today.
When Melian finally opened the door she stood back and ushered Artanis in, and she strode in eagerly, looking around.
The excitement in her froze, however, when she saw all the cloth and needles in the room covering Melian's working desks, and she frowned.
Melian laughed at her expression.
"Today we will be weaving garments." Melian told her.
Artanis gave her a disdainful look, but feared to complain and held her tongue. Melian gave a nod, though, and she burst out:
"But that is just simple women's work! Anyone can weave garments, it is a simple task!"
"Then you have not been doing it right." Melian raised an eyebrow, not unkindly. "Your first lesson today is this: swords and armour are not the only ways to defend one's self or to give aid in a mission."
"Wait and see, sit." She added when Artanis did not look convinced.
She sat waited for Melian to begin.
"First, as you do not believe this is worth your time," Melian's eyes twinkled. "I will show you how they work."
She took a bunch of the cloth, an unappealing greenish grey, draped it over her shoulders, going to stand by the wood paneled wall.
"It doesn't work as well in here, but well enough for you to see. Out in the forest or in a field it should work entirely."
She stood holding the fabric behind her and facing the oak paneled wall, and smiled when she heard Artanis's quick intake of breath, for Melian had almost completely disappeared, the fabric blending to the wood.
"It takes on the colors of the natural world, of trees, of grasses, of sunlight, of moonlight, whatever you may pour into it. It will work against this wood, but much more so against living things, and the wearer can be nearly completely masked from unwanted eyes under it."
"How?" Artanis asked, fascinated now, and hoping Melian forgave her earlier protest.
"That is what you are to learn." She said with a smile, coming to sit across from Artantis.
Melian showed her how to pour thought and power into the cloth as it was woven, and she was thrilled to find she was able to master it quickly, the first one she made was nearly as good as Melian's, and Melian was pleased with her work.
Headcanon:
It was with a sad smile that Galadriel watched the Fellowship head around the bend in the river. They did not have the slightest idea how long and hard the road ahead of them was, not even Aragorn or Legolas. The hobbits did not seem to have the slightest clue, even Frodo, though perhaps that was better for them, not to know the horrors that may lie ahead.
Lórien had provided what it could, a place for rest and healing, food, supplies, and as best counsel as could be given.
The elven cloaks they wore, woven by herself and those she had taught to make them, the skill passed on to her so very long ago from Melian the Maia.
She found herself thinking what Melian might do now, in her situation. Probably exactly what Galadriel and Celeborn had done; sheltered the Fellowship through their grief in the loss of Mithrandir, given gifts of as much aid as possible, and sent them on their way.
But for Galadriel, it was always hard not to do more.
She had learned at an early age from her father, and later from Melian, not to rashly go off into fighting battles she had no place in, especially not against powers like Sauron, who was already watching her as closely as he could be.
She knew they were right, as she had seen such situations take many of her kin, as well as friends and allies, for the past three ages.
However, sometimes she felt guilty for not being of as much help as she could be, even if that were to claim her own life. She knew in her heart the right answer was that she was more use to everyone alive than in Mandos for who knows how long, but still, there had always been that choice.
Her father and Melian both had always counseled her to take care not to take unnecessary risks based on her emotions, and seeing what happened to her brothers and the rest of those who did not heed Melian's advice, Galadriel had always listened.
She might not have, had she not seen nearly every one of her kin lose their lives in their rashness during the First Age; Fëanor and his sons for their Oath. Finrod for a good cause, but because he, too, made a promise. Orodreth and Turgon both would have done well to listen to the advice of the Valar to prevent their deaths, so even if Melian's advice to her had been given long ago, she knew it still applied. Do not be rash, stay out of matters you would not be of true help in, no matter what you wish you could do. Do not let your pride rule your heart or your actions.
And so she hadn't.
During the Second Age and the battles against Sauron, it had been difficult. Celeborn had fought, and though she was just as skilled with the sword as any other elf in Middle-earth, Galadriel had only really fought in one small battle during that time, when Celeborn's forces along with Elrond 's forces had been attacked by Sauron, and Galadriel had helped lead an army of Elves and Dwarves to weaken Saurons forces.
During the Third Age she may have faced Sauron at Dol Gudur, but in his weakened form it was relatively less danger than most situations she wished to charge in to, sword ready. Besides, Songs of Power were a vastly different form of fighting than swords.
Since, most of what she had done was give counsel. Protect her family, her people. Organize the White Council, strategize with Mithrandir and Elrond, thwart Sauron in more subtle ways, and defend Lórien.
Elrond said often that the time of the elves was coming to a close, and he was right. Now all she could do was advise, give gifts, and hope that the strength of Men and Hobbits was enough to purge the world of it's greatest evil left.
Galadriel knew she had made the right choices, the right actions. But she still wished she had done more, could do more. She only hoped what she had done had been enough.
