T
Some reckon their age by years,
Some measure their life by art;
But some tell their days by the flow of their tears
And their lives by the moans of their hearts.
- - - -Abram Joseph Ryan
Chapter 5: Atalantëa fëa
The dream came again. This time it was so vivid she could smell the blood and hear the scream on the battlefield. She recalled the rage and pain sketched on the woman's face before she fell to the ground, struck by Finrod's arrow. She felt her guilt and regret as she screamed in agony in her brother's embrace, "Why do you save me? Why don't you let me die instead?"
Warm tears flowing from her eyes awakened her. Her chest began to ache. Galadriel finally became aware of why she had decided to stay. After all these years, after all the consolation and counsel she had received, she could not completely forgive herself. She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away.
Her keen eyes fell on a pair of grey blue eyes concentrating on her. Legolas was looking at her from the tree he was sitting on. There was no contempt or disgust, only curiosity, and a little sorrow. 'Do you feel sorry for me, young Eldar?' Her mind reached out to him.
Unaware it was not his own thought, he answered, 'Maybe. For to see such beautiful eyes flooded with tears is unbearable to me.'
Galadriel smiled to him. Legolas turned away in slight embarrassment for she had caught him staring at her. 'Why are you so concerned over a witch?' Her mind questioned him, a question that was not answerable for Legolas and lingered in his mind long afterwards.
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Dawn rose. Dew dampened her skin and a misty fog floated in the air while the wind softly blew, making her homesick for Lorien worsen. Soft rain started to pour down, and memory of her parting with Celeborn and her granddaughter aggravated the pain in her chest. Never in her immortal life had she felt such loneliness and sorrow. In her darkest hour, she always had someone to strengthen her, encourage her. But now? She was completely alone, facing her own anguish and anything that lay in store for her future.
Daeross brought her some luscious summer berries but she refused. "Eat. I do not want you fainting during the journey. It is hard one, very unlike the save haven in which you used to dwell." Saying nothing, she ate without appetite.
"What have you done, Witch?" Sitting beside her, Daeross raised the questioned that had been haunting him since Langolin announced the mission. Legolas sat few feet away from them, but his ears could catch the conversation clearly.
"Why don't you ask your leader yourself about that matter? And please, for Elbereth, do not call me Witch. "
"So you say we have captured an innocent Lady?"
"Innocent I am not, for I have committed many mistakes. But the true reason of my captivity is still unbeknownst to me."
Daeross did not ask further. He was about to chain her back when Langolin approached. He looked at her boldly with flames burning in his eyes. "I know that an oath can tether you more than any rope. Give me your word you will not run from us and I will spare the chain."
Galadriel lifted her eyes to meet his. There was sorrow in her sea blue eyes, and pain too, but neither hatred nor rage could be found. Without hesitation she answered, "You have my word."
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It was a hard journey indeed. They had to walk since they did not bring enough horses. Galadriel walked haltingly as her shoeless feet were wounded and scarred by jagged stones she stumbled upon. She did not flinch. Instead she enjoyed her physical pain, as it distracted her from her sadness.
But the earth cried out to her as each drip of her blood touched the soil,
'Heavy is thy sorrow, Elven Queen!
Deeper than thy inflicted skin,
Bleed more than thy blood,
Mourn louder than thy tears,
And who would console thee?
When all fail,
Take comfort in this!
With wind as my breath,
Rain as my tears,
And tempest as my rage,
I, Arda will stay with thee.'
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Atalantëa fëa = downfallen soul in Quenya. I cannot find the word grief, sad, or sorrow.