Celeborn arose and greeted her with kind words, but the Lady Galadriel, who had risen as well, remained silent. She stared intently at Ithildin and her gaze was more piercing than an Elven arrow. Ithildin imagined she could almost hear a voice inside her head and it whispered things she did not understand. She looked back at the Lady Galadriel, and for a while, they were locked in a silent battle of wills until finally, Galadriel smiled and the spell was broken.
"Welcome, Lady of Mindon Enedh," said Galadriel and her voice was magical. "You have come a long way from your little home. I see though that your journey will not be in vain. You shall touch the lives of many and you will grow into wisdom and beauty as the time goes by. Yet all is not well even for such a young one. You are a mystery. You possess the sturdiness of a Man, yet speak the language of the Elves as if you were one of us. Child of the Silverlode after which you were named, what do you know of your past?"
Ithildin bowed her head. "Nothing, my Lady. It is not a matter that concerns me. My only family are the people of Herth-Milui and that is enough."
The Lady smiled, sorrowfully. "It is not so simple, little one. I see in you a power both good and evil, though you yourself do not see it. It will grow and you shall be tempted by it. Yet for all my knowledge I cannot determine what your power is, only that you shall carry it all your life. It is for this reason that I question you."
Celeborn did not say anything, but watched the exchange with interest. At length however he was called away by one of the elves and left the chamber. When he was gone, Galadriel came over to Ithildin's side. It was painful to the Lady to see the destiny that awaited the young woman before her. Ithildin's journey would not end for a long time, and Galadriel, who had seen the end, knew that it would not be a happy one. Not if the power that was growing within her became too strong.
"Do you know what your name means?" asked Galadriel. Ithildin shook her head. "It describes that which is reflected silver in moonlight...Silver moonlight. And it is an Elvish name as is the name of your home that you spoke of. You do not know your own heritage, yet the names you have grown up with are names of the Silvan folk. Tell me, have you ever spoken our language?"
Ithildin recalled briefly, her moment of song, when she had been seized by knowledge that she had never possessed. "Yes, my Lady. Before I came here, I sang a song to the Elves of Caras Galadhon and I sang it in your language, though I had neither spoken nor heard of it before. It was brief, but for a moment, I was able to know many things: the hearts of the people before me, things past and yet to come, and I could sense many emotions. I do not know where this knowledge came from."
Galadriel did not speak for quite some time. Ithildin's words had confirmed a suspicion in her mind, but the Lady felt she should not speak of such matters. Instead, she smiled and caressed Ithildin's face. Her touch was at once calming and Ithildin found herself growing sleepy after the day's long walk.
"Tonight, you shall rest for as long as you want and tomorrow, you may leave if you wish," said Galadriel.
This news brought joy to Ithildin, for though the woods of Lothlórien were fair and splendid, she was restless to see more of Middle-Earth. For the time being though she was content to be led to a room with soft blankets and warm covers. There, she slept peacefully, unaware of anything but the serenity of the night.