Summary- AU. What if Galadriel had another daughter?
A/N- You know what belongs to JRR Tolkien. Even the flowers belong to JRR Tolkien. I got them out of my (very old) copy of the Fellowship of the Ring. The poem appears in the beginning of all three books if I am not mistaken. Whoa! My books were printed in 1976!
~Chapter One
The wind blew softly through the trees, making the leaves rustle. My golden hair blew into my face, but I did not bother to wipe it away. The wind always righted itself in the end.
Lori stood next to me, although I could not see or hear her. I simply knew she was there, waiting. Scouts that we had placed on the edge of the wood had spotted intruders- eight intruders; in fact- enter the woods a minute ago. They reported quite a strange group- a Dwarf, four Halflings, two Men, and most shockingly, one of our kind- an Elf. An Elf with hair of gold, the same color as mine, carrying a bow. My fingers instinctively stroked the smooth wood of my own bow, made from a sapling from this very forest. I heard a crackle of leaves under feet, about half a kilometer away. I silently drew out an arrow and stretched back the finely made twine of the bow. No one moved. I sensed Haldir move through the trees in front of me. Maybe he had seen them, this strange Company. My mind wandered for a moment and I scolded myself- an Elf never lets her guard down.
The moment draws near- the moment where I forget everything my mother taught me and be an adventurer. In my heart I yearn for adventure when I am at home and yet when I am on an adventure, I yearn for the dainty side of myself, the half of me they call Princess.
Suddenly I sprang forward, stepping beside Haldir. Lori was on his other side. I pointed my arrow at the Elf, who was pointing his arrow back at me. I mustered up all my courage and glared at him. His eyes shifted. Other Elves stepped from behind the trees, surrounding the Halflings. Haldir stepped forward, the well-known smirk on his face. "A dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark," he said, his voice smooth as syrup from one of our trees. I kept my gaze on the Elf while one of the Men talked to Haldir in our language. The Man spoke it well.
"Aragorn, these woods are perilous. We should go back." Said the Dwarf.
"You've entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood," said Haldir. "You cannot go back. Come, she is waiting."
We led this Company back to Lothlorien, our fair city. It is quite different from Rivendell, to say the least. I had visited Rivendell once and I did not like it. Our city is built around the Wood; it's a city in the trees. But we did not lead the captives up to one of the treetop apartments. Instead we led them to the anteroom of the Palace- my home. I hid behind a tree as my mother and father came down the stone steps, hand-in-hand. They did not know that I had gone with Haldir. My father would not be happy. I felt a prickling of fear at what would happen if my father found out. This happened at the end of every adventure.
I stole up to my room, hiding behind moss-covered statues to escape the notice of my parents. I hoped that my mother would not be looking in the Mirror soon, so she would not see my deceit. It would not escape her notice, that I was sure of.
I climbed the swirling staircase, leading up one of the tallest trees in the Wood. This was my place. I slipped past the guards at the foot of the stairs and silently closed the gilded door, throwing off my clothes in the same motion. I shoved them under the bed and hurried to pull a lace dress over my shoulders. It was very much like the ones my mother wore.
Once I had pulled a comb through my hair I crept back down the stairs and took my place beside my sister, Elanor, named for the flower that grows in the fields of the Cerin Amroth. I am named for the other flower, the Niphredil. I have been to the Cerin Amroth only once- it is a sacred place to my kind. Sometimes I think our parents- the Lord Celeborn and Galadriel, Lady of Lorien- misnamed us. I, like the star-shaped elanor flower, am bright and colorful. My sister is more like the niphredil. She is pale and more like the morning mist- she is transparent and predictable, fading away into the background. But I like my name and the flower, you must admit, is a very pretty flower.
My father was talking as I slipped into my place. According to him, there were supposed to be nine captives standing before him. Instead there were only eight. "Where is Gandalf?" he asked. I stiffened. Gandalf the Grey was a very beloved figure in this Wood. He had always been kind to us, bringing firecrackers on our birthdays and setting them off. The sparks rivaled the stars that shone in the sky above the Wood.
Celeborn's brow creased, a confused look on his face. My mother looked about at the Company. Her lips parted and a look of immense sadness came into her tired eyes. I marveled at my mother. She was very powerful, a mind reader. I hoped someday to become like Galadriel, exactly like her.
"He has fallen into shadow," she whispered. A soft sigh escaped her lips, barely detectable. She spoke again to the Fellowship, as she called them, but I saw in her eyes that she was talking to one in particular- a Halfling. I heard whispers hanging in the air as my mother talked to the Hobbit. I picked up something about a Ring. A Ring? I knew that my mother was a Ringbearer, one of three for the Elven race. Nenya, the Ring of Adamant, was on her finger. She had told the myth to me many times:
Three Rings for Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his Dark Throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
I knew it by heart; it was a story that I had been fond of hearing as a child. Lately I had been hearing the old rhyme more than usual. I had picked up frantic bits of conversation about a 'one ring.' My mother had mentioned a creature, a Golum, more than once, and there were also concerns of two Halflings by the names of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins. I had discarded the bit about the Hobbits- Hobbits never amounted to anything, really. They just sat about in their holes eating and drinking their low-quality ale.
My mind was drawn back into Lothlorien when everyone started picking up and leaving. I nudged Elanor in the side. "What happened?" I whispered to her. She looked at me. I could tell she was doubtful of how much I should know. "Oh, by the Evening Star!" I said, looking furiously at her. "Tell me!"
Elanor looked shocked. I knew she would. "Do not swear by Eärendil!" She said, looking around frantically as if the ghost of the star would jump from behind the tree and stab me. "I'll tell you. The One Ring has been found!"
"What One Ring?" I said, growing impatient.
"The One Ring!" Elanor repeated. "You know, One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them…"
"Bah!" I said disbelievingly. "That is myth!"
"No," said Elanor, shaking her head sadly. "No, it is not myth. Sauron, the Dark Lord, really existed. The Rings were created and given to the Elves, the Men, and the Dwarves. But there was another Ring forged, a Ring more powerful than all the others combined. The One Ring that the poem speaks of, that corrupts anyone who desires it. It was forged on Mount Doom and the only way to destroy it is to throw it back into the fires of the mountain where it was forged."
"And the Halfling found it!" I said. Elanor nodded.
"A Halfling found it, yes," she said. "And it was handed down to this Halfling who is going to destroy it. A Fellowship of Nine has gone with him, to protect him." My mind sped back to the Elf- the Elf! He was going to Mount Doom! I picked up my skirt and without so much as a wave at Elanor sped in the direction that the Nine had gone.